“New York City,” Ryan answers.
When I hear the band begin the intro to another one of my favorite songs, I excuse myself to walk over to the bookcase where we were standing earlier so that I can listen and enjoy the song. A few moments later, Jase, Mark, and Ryan join me. Jase is on one side of me and Ryan stands opposite. Leaning forward, resting my elbows on the bookcase, Ryan lowers himself next to me, and I instantly feel Jase’s protective hand on my back.
I shift my eyes slightly to look at Ryan, and he is watching the band. I know I shouldn’t be looking at him like this, but I find it intriguing that he doesn’t make me feel scared. He turns his head and catches me staring at him. Cringing inside, I try and play it off by giving him a slight grin and refocusing my attention back to the band. When they announce their last song for the evening, Jase leans into my ear and whispers, “Mark and I will be right back.”
Looking at him curiously, I ask, “Where are you going?”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll be back in a second.” He kisses me on the temple, and gives me a reassuring nod before he turns and walks off with Mark.
Standing here alone, next to Ryan, we listen to The xx play an extended version of ‘Intro.’ The languid plucks of the guitar are soon interlaced with the ever thumping of the bass drum. The song begins to intensify into a fusion of haunting and seductive sounds. I push back off the bookcase while Ryan remains leaning on his elbows. I watch him. I shouldn’t be, but I am. His hair is a rich dark brown that falls slightly over his ears. He has a strong, well-defined jaw and a muscular frame that is evident through his dark grey shirt. Looking back at me over his shoulder, a small lock of his hair falls over his forehead. What am I doing? I take a step back as he pushes himself off the bookcase and looks at me. Turning around quickly to walk away, I run smack into Mark’s chest.
Tripping over my own feet, he catches me and asks, “Whoa, everything okay?”
“I wanna go,” I say softly so that no one can hear me but him.
Clutching both of my arms, he looks back at Jase and gives him a nod. When Jase walks over he asks, “You ready to go?”
“Hey, man. It was good seeing ya. We’ll catch up later this week,” Mark says to Ryan.
I turn around as Ryan approaches Mark and they give each other a tight handshake as Mark slaps Ryan on the side of his shoulder. “Catch you later,” Ryan says before holding his hand out to me. “I’m glad I ran into you again,” he says.
Sliding my hand into his, I say with a slight hesitation, “Yeah, it was nice.”
As Jase and Ryan say their goodbyes, I walk out into the drizzly, cold night and take a deep breath. Jase walks out, hands me my coat, and I shrug it on before getting into the car.
“What was that all about?” Jase asks me.
Leaning my head against the window, I quip, “You tell me. Where the hell did you two run off to?”
Turning around in his seat, he adds, “Just thought you two should talk without Mark and I around.”
“Why?”
“Just got that feeling. You two kept staring at each other with that look.”
Sitting up, I ask, “And what look would that be?”
“Candace, the guy is hot. You know what look he’s talking about,” Mark adds as he drives back to my house.
“Doesn’t matter,” I say as I lie back against the seat.
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Jase asks.
I shake my head and stare out the rain-covered window.
“Candace?”
“It just doesn’t matter, Jase. It’s wrong.”
“It’s not wrong for you to find someone attractive.”
Turning my head to look at him, I say, “Yes, it is.”
I feel the car slow down and can see that Mark is pulling into a random parking lot. He turns the car off, steps out, and opens my door. Sliding in next to me, he shuts the door behind him. “Stop punishing yourself.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he immediately cuts me off and repeats slowly, “Stop punishing yourself.”
Facing me, Jase adds, “Nobody says that you can’t enjoy life. You can. You should. You just won’t allow yourself.”
“How can I feel like that after what happened? It feels wrong.”
“It’s not wrong,” Mark says. “You need to let yourself feel happiness and not run away from every good feeling that comes over you.”
“It doesn’t feel right.”
“Why?” Jase asks.
“Because . . . it makes me feel cheap—dirty.” My stomach is in knots talking about this. I don’t want to be talking about this. I never want to talk about this.
Mark places his hands on my shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. “You aren’t either of those things, not even close. What happened doesn’t make you cheap or dirty or whatever else you’re thinking. It happened, and you have been punishing yourself ever since.”
“Candace,” Jase adds, “He’s right. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You can’t keep taking this wound and ripping it further open beyond repair. You have to try and leave it be, and allow it to heal.”