A Real Disaster

Chapter Eight



When we got to his house I hesitated at the door. I was nervous and terrified to be alone with him. It wasn't that he had done anything specific to be afraid of him but I was scared of being alone with any guy because of my past. I knew I had to get over it though and I just needed to be cautious instead of holding myself back all the time.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a concerned look on his face.

The door was wide open and he was standing inside on the rug. He smiled and waved me in.

“Yeah, I'll be okay,” I said, slowly walking inside.

I sat him down and began to tend to his mouth. The bleeding clotted and I gently wiped away the dried blood. His lip was swollen, not unexpected, and on his jaw there was a nice flourishing bruise. He winced as I cleaned him up but not once did he complain or tell me to stop.

Finally, when I was finished, Nash took my hand and led me around the house. We were ending our tour with his bedroom.

“And this is the bedroom. This is where I do all of my best thinking and creating.”

“Nice,” I said as I took a tentative step inside.

The last time I was near a bedroom with Nash, he wanted to join me. The room was painted a deep blue with white checkered curtains and lamps in each corner. There was a queen bed against one wall and a desk on the other side. In the corner was a guitar and a stand. Clothes littered the floor but the closet was closed.


“Yeah, it’s one of my favorite places,” he said, pushing the clothes out of the way and patting the bed. “Sit down for a bit.”

“Nah, I’m okay,” I responded, eyeing the bed. “I don’t need to sit, I’m not tired.”

“Lily, sit down,” Nash said as he patted the bed again. “I’m not going to try and f*ck you here.”

I cocked an eyebrow and Nash chuckled.

“Okay, I’ll try not to... I can’t make any promises, though.”

That’s what I was afraid of.

After hesitating a moment, I sat next to Nash on the bed. He grabbed my hand and squeezed.

“Thanks for taking care of me. You didn’t have to come home with me or make sure I was okay.”

“It’s fine,” I said as I waved away his thank you. “What kind of person would I be if I let you go home by yourself? You looked half dazed when I pulled you up off the floor. I’m not sure you would have been able to make it here by yourself, honestly.”

“Well, I appreciate it either way.”

Nash dropped my hand and stared around his room.

“So what kind of greatness happens in here? And don’t say sex,” I said, smiling.

He laughed.

“Well, do you know how many songs I wrote in this room? How many times I paced back and forth, thinking of the best words to use or a new verse? I play my guitar for hours in here, sitting on the bed, until my fingers are raw and my body is stiff.”

“So you’re passionate about your writing. You’re passionate about your music.”

“Yeah, I always have been. Music is my life; it has been since I learned how to play the guitar when I was kid. It was an escape from everything.”

“An escape?” I asked. “An escape from what?”

“Life… Reality… You know, just everything. Writing and playing music has been my way to dealing with growing up and the people around me. It helps me figure stuff out.”

“Life couldn't have been too hard for you considering you are so popular.”

“I was anything but popular. Everyone looked at me like I was just the guy in a rock band. It was nothing like how it has been in college. I had a couple of friends that were in a band with me and that was it. No one else.”

I was surprised. After going to the party and seeing all the girls that wanted his attention I never suspected that it was any different when he was in high school. It felt good to be around someone that felt alone in high school just like I did. Going to college has been good for him and it is already pointing towards it being good for me too.

“Really? You must be in heaven with all these girls screaming your name now then.”

“I guess you could say that...” he said, pausing. “So you don't have anything like singing to help you escape from life?”

“I was really into chorus but it didn't help me escape from anything. I just did it for an extra-curricular activity. Sure, I loved it, but it didn't help with any of my life problems. All I really did was study and read books. I always wanted to get perfect grades. That's just who I was.”

Nash looked at me, tilting his head.

“Really? There wasn't anything that helped you get away for a bit and not worry about anything? Reading books didn't even do it for you?”

I paused, thinking about it for a bit. I thought back to my childhood, back to my family and school. I couldn’t think of anything.

Nothing that I used to escape…

“No,” I said honestly. “I don’t think there’s anything that I used to escape. But I’m not sure if I had a reason to escape either. My life wasn’t bad…”

Well, for the most part.

Unless you count not having many friends as being bad or the life changing event that caused that to happen.

But I didn’t want to tell him or anybody about that.

“Life doesn’t have to be bad to escape. My life wasn’t bad at all. It was hectic, sure, but it wasn’t bad. You really had nothing you wanted to escape from?” he repeated again.

“Not one thing,” I lied to him.

I shrugged. Nash shifted on his bed before lying down on his back.

“Damn my head hurts and I’m f*cking nauseous.”

Immediately I shifted on the bed before I was on my hands and knees, leaning over Nash. I was looking at his head, trying to see any cuts or bruises on any other surface of his skull. I tried to remember: did Nash hit his head when he fall? Was there anything in his way as he toppled over, anything that could have nicked his head? I scrunched my eyes together, trying to reset the picture in my head, but I came up with nothing. I couldn’t remember what happened after Turner punched Nash except for the bloody lip and Turner storming away.

“Did you hit your head?” I asked Nash, running my hand over his scalp. “When you fell did you hit anything? The concrete? Metal? Anything?”

“I don’t think so. But everything is kind of a blur. All I remember is Turner decking me and then being on the ground with blood pouring from my lip.” Nash frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for any bumps of cuts,” I explained.

“Why?”

“Because if there’s a bump, you might have a concussion,” I told him. “If you have a concussion then you need to go to the hospital.”

“I don’t think I have a concussion. I’m just a bit dizzy.”

“Nash, I really think you should go to the hospital. This could be really bad.”

Nash didn’t answer me. A layer of sweat gleamed on his body and, for lack of anything better to do, I rubbed Nash’s back. His breathing was rugged and he looked pained when he rubbed his hand across his mouth.

“Nash.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to go to the hospital?”

Nash shook his head.

“No. I don’t want to go anywhere near a hospital. Hospitals scare the shit out of me.”

“But what about your head? What if you have a concussion?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve gotten punched before and I’m pretty sure it’s not a concussion.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“How about you kiss me and make it all better?” Nash asked, winking at me.

He opened his eyes and stared at me.

I closed my eyes and felt the heat of his breath get closer to me.

“I don’t think so Nash.”

I opened my eyes and backed away.

“How about I just sit here and keep you company? I read somewhere that if you have a concussion that you have to stay awake to make sure of one thing or another. I don’t want you stay here, awake, by yourself.”

“Can you stay?”

I knew I shouldn’t stay with him. I had class the next day and I had none of my stuff with me. Turner was expecting me for dinner. There were so many things I needed to do but my something was pulling me to stay.

“Sure I’ll stay,” I found myself saying. “If you really don’t want to be alone I’ll be here with you, it’s not a problem.”

Nash smiled.

“Thanks,” he said. “One day I’ll get that kiss...”

Goosebumps crawled on my body.

“I know you want it as bad as I do.”

“Whatever you want to believe Nash. So… Now what do we do?”

“Whatever you want to do.”

“Well, I would love to go to the beach. I have never seen the ocean that has been my lifelong dream to do so.”

“I think it is a little late to go to the beach.”


“I know. I was just making a joke. I'm going to go soon though because I’ve never seen it before.”

“You should... I can't believe you've never seen the ocean.”

“Yeah, me neither… Anyway, how about we watch Disney movies?”

I was that girl in college that still loved to watch Disney movies. A couple of my cousins were the exact same way so I knew I wasn't the only one.

“No way. Please not Disney movies!”

“Oh come on. If you want me to stay in you’re going to have to watch some with me. A lot of them are on Netflix.”

“Fine...”

I looked over at him and we smiled at each other.



* * *



“You can’t honestly be telling me that Monsters Inc. is better than Toy Story,” I argued. “Toy Story has a plot, it has feeling!”

“Like Monster’s Inc doesn’t? Come on! Boo is adorable!”

“Yeah but the friendship between Woody and Andy is unforgettable!”

Nash threw a pillow at me and I caught it easily. I chucked it back at him and, unfortunately he didn’t have as quick of reflexes. The pillow bounced off his face before dropping onto his lap.

“Nice,” Nash said.

It was nearly four o’clock in the morning and we were filling our time with Disney movies thanks to me, bad TV shows, and stale popcorn. My eyes were heavy and I yawned, stretching up as I did. I wanted to sleep and that’s all I wanted. I wanted to throw an old t-shirt on, crawl into bed, and close my eyes. I was so tired that my vision was doubling.

“Hey are you okay?”

“Fine,” I said as I swayed. “A little sleepy, maybe, but fine. I’m not used to pulling an all-nighter.”

“Haven’t you ever had a sleepover? You and your girlfriends, in your pajamas, gossiping until the sun rose? Isn’t that what girls do?”

“Not since I was twelve,” I admitted. “In high school I wasn’t very social. I liked being home by myself more than I liked being with other people.”

“Funny, I was the complete opposite. I never wanted to be home and when I was home I was jumping out of my skin.”

“Why?”

“Boredom.”

“Oh,” I said. “Kind of like now?”

Throughout the night Nash and I had went through movies, junk food, and bad TV shows. We talked and joked, teasing each other about our tastes in about everything. Now there was nothing left to do and I felt like the night was dragging.

“I guess… You probably had a million things to do tonight.”

“Not anything that couldn’t get moved around,” I told him.

“Well, in any case, I owe you. You kind of went above and beyond helping me, considering you didn’t even like me before.”

I shifted back.

“That’s not true,” I told him, but I hesitated. “Okay it was a little true. But you came off as such an a*shole! You were leering at me in my skirt.”

“Well your legs were sexy,” Nash argued. “What was I supposed to do? Pretend that I didn’t notice?”

“You used a lame ass line on me too!”

“Yeah, I did. They usually work on most girls.”

“I’m not most girls. You’re not going to be able to just say some lame line and I’m going to sleep with you. Why do you want to be with me anyway?”

“Because you’re sexy and for some damn reason you won’t put up with my shit. Most girls would jump at the chance to kiss me.”

“Whatever Nash...”

Girls did jump at him though and I didn’t want to have to compete.



* * *



I didn’t remember falling asleep but when I opened my eyes, Nash was lying next to me, his head propped up on his hand, and grinning. It was the slight brush of his fingers against my cheek that brought me back to the land of the living.

“Hey there beautiful,” Nash murmured as my eyes fluttered open.

I was disoriented and groggy.

What time was it?

Where was I?

What happened?

It took me few minutes before my brain caught up with my body. I was at Nash’s house, keeping him company. I had no idea what time it was but the sun filtering through the window hinted at daylight.

My heart started to beat fast as I realized I was lying next to Nash. His arm was wrapped around me. I moved away and laid on my back far enough that I didn't feel like I was close enough to cuddle with him.

“How are you feeling?” I asked immediately, my heart’s pace slowing down. “How’s your head? Your jaw?”

“Both are fine,” Nash said.

I looked at him, confused, before my mouth split into a grin.

“You’re so lame,” I said as I pulled myself up to the sitting position. “What time is it?”

“Nearly noon,” Nash said and immediately my heart went into my throat.

“Oh my God, I missed my class!” I screeched, jumping off the bed.

I rummaged around the cluttered floor for my bag and shoes. My head was spinning. How could I forget class? It was the first class of the semester and I missed it!

“Calm down.”

“Calm down?! How can I calm down?” I demanded. “I missed class, Nash, and it was the first one! I can’t even imagine what the professor thinks of me! He’s going to hate me if he doesn’t already!”

I grabbed my stuff and shoved my feet into the shoes. As I moved I calculated how quickly I could get to the professor’s office. Maybe I would be able to talk to him, explain what happened. I could tell him about Nash and the concussion. Hopefully that would sway his opinion.

“Lily, calm down,” Nash said again.

He tugged at my arm, pulling me onto his lap. I struggled as Nash wrapped his arms around me. Bad memories came flashing back to me…

“Get off of me!” I seethed. “I have to go talk to my professor. I have to make this right. I screwed up, Nash, I screwed up badly.”

“No you didn’t,” Nash said. “It’s okay if you miss a class. The first two weeks of school are when people drop classes and add classes. The classes don’t really start until that period is over. I doubt you missed much, if anything, today. I promise.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, doubt filling my head.

“I’ve been at this school longer than I care to remember. Don’t worry so much.”

I let myself relax and I tugged his arms apart, slipping out from between them.

“You need to relax a bit or you’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”

“No I’m not. I’m resilient. I’ve been this neurotic since I was younger. What’s going to give me problems is you holding me like that. Don’t ever do that again…”

I took a deep breath.

“Sorry, won’t happen again. I’m surprised that you haven’t had a heart attack though. Why are you so hard on yourself?”

I shrugged, unable to explain it to him. How could I explain my ‘good girl’ status and need to be perfect? It was a self-imposed purpose, an obsession really, and my parents’ approval fueled it. When everyone expects you to be perfect, and you succeed, it becomes like a drug. You want to succeed over and over again, no matter what the cost.

“Because I’m good and I’m good at being good. That’s who I am,” I told him. “I want to be the best, act the best, and reach the highest.”

“But at what cost?”

“At whatever cost it takes,” I answered immediately.

Nash furrowed his eyebrows together.


“It’s not as bad it sounds, I swear.”

“Good because it sounds like you’re a bit psychotic.”

“Thanks,” I said warily. “That’s so nice.”

“I never said I would be nice. I’m not nice… I’m honest.”

“Well maybe some people don’t want the honesty.”

“Those are the people who usually need it the most.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

My brain was beginning to work on overdrive trying to figure out what was going on with Nash and I. Everything was moving fast, faster than I thought it ever would. He didn’t ask me out but tried kissing me and called me…

Sexy…

These were cautionary signals.

We were hanging out and joking as friends too though. Just because there was no explanation for what was going on, didn’t mean I wanted it to end. I didn’t. But I also didn’t like the uncertainty. Turner could be right about him too.

I sighed and rubbed my temple with my hands.

“I really should get going,” I said.

“Do you have to? I thought that we could go out, have some lunch.”

“I can’t,” I said, even though it was a lie. “I have to go meet up with some people.”

“People like Turner?”

That wasn’t on my list of to-do’s but now Turner crept into my mind. I had already missed most of my class and Nash had persuaded me that it wasn’t a big deal.

“Maybe… He seemed so angry yesterday,” I said for an explanation. “He was practically foaming at the mouth and, well, you know the rest. I do want to see if he’s okay... I want to try to talk to him…. But…”

“Why?” he asked, cutting me off. “You just go back to the guy who has no control over himself?”

I paused. That was a good question and I didn’t have a set answer for him.

“Because he’s my friend,” I said finally. “Just like you.”

Nash shrugged but there was a frown on his face.

“Do what you want,” he said and disappointment seeped into my heart.

I was hoping that Nash would put up fight, even a little one, trying to get me to stay. But he didn’t. If anything, he was trying to get me to leave quicker.

What the hell did I do? Was he jealous? Actually jealous that another guy might have a chance with me? What did I get myself into?

“I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, see you around,” I agreed.

I glanced at Nash over my shoulder one last time before exiting his room. I let myself out into the warm day and headed back to school, leaving my heart behind.