Chapter 25
Goodbyes
The following morning I was cleared to leave. My sister was delighted at the news and actually kissed the doctor on the cheek when he told her. As she was wearing her Hooters outfit - tighter than tight orange shorts and a much too opaque, white logoed tank top - the doctor blushed furiously and quickly fled the room. My sister giggled attractively and helped me dress and brush out my bed mangled hair.
I watched the doors while we waited for the okay to leave. I wasn't sure who I was hoping would come to see me off - Denny or Kellan. I hadn't seen Kellan again, and when I asked my sister, she would only frown softly and say that he was "around". I remembered that he hadn't wanted her to mention to me that he was hanging around the hospital, and wondered if he'd found out about her slipup.
I'd hurt him enough that he couldn't make himself even see me, but not so much that he could leave me completely alone. I had no idea what that meant. He said he still loved me and I certainly still loved him. Even now, even after my mistake in the parking lot, after Denny's awful discovery, and the fight that still woke me up screaming sometimes, I loved him...and missed him. But I understood his need to be away from me, to finally let me go.
Jenny came in while we waited and sat on the bed with me, occasionally stroking my arm or tucking some hair behind my ear, revealing my yellowing bruise. She told Anna and me stories of the bar and the crazy things some of the customers had done. She started to tell a story about Evan and Matt ganging up on Griffin, but stopped shortly after mentioning their names. I didn't know if that was because she thought I didn't want to hear about men so close to Kellan, or if it was because Kellan was in the story too. I couldn't bring myself to ask her.
Anna grabbed the reins of the conversation once Griffin's name was half-heartedly mentioned, and by the end of her story, even sweet 'whatever floats your boat' Jenny was blushing furiously. Anna was laughing huskily about that as Denny walked through the door.
He waved a greeting to the room and I startled to see him during the day...and in casual clothes. When I asked him if he should be at work, he shrugged and said that he took the day off to help me get settled. He raised his eyebrows at my expression and dryly said, "What are they gonna do, fire me?"
I smiled and thanked him, and the four of us chatted amicably until I was discharged.
Two hours later, I was staring out at a view of Lake union from the two bedroom apartment building my sister had managed to find and acquire, in one afternoon. Granted, the apartment was tiny. The kitchen had space for the stove, refrigerator, and a dishwasher, a slab of Formica above it being considered the counter. The two bedrooms were on opposite ends of a short hall and I had to smile that my sister's had the full length closet, while mine was only half the size. My room had a futon and a dresser and my sister's had a mattress on a low bed frame with a nightstand. The bathroom was the shower only kind, and was already overflowing with my sister's beauty products. The living room and dining room were combined, and a rickety folding table indicated where we'd be eating. The remainder of the space was filled with an ancient looking orange couch and a chair that I knew from experience, was the single most comfortable chair in the world. My heart seized as I ran a hand along the back of it. It was Kellan's...and it was the only semi-decent piece of furniture he owned.
As Denny was watching me curiously, I brushed my fingers over my cheeks, swallowed repeatedly, and sat on the ugly orange couch. Denny made up a small lunch with some groceries he'd picked up for me, Anna left for her job, and Jenny sat by me on the couch, turning on some soaps on the tiny television tucked in the corner. I half-watched TV with her, half-ate the sandwich Denny made me, and cast several looks at the comfortable chair... that no one was sitting in.
The following week, while I recovered and adapted to my new home and my sister's fanciful presence, things had adjusted into a sort of new routine. Jenny would come and visit in the afternoons, sometimes with Kate, and try to get me out of the apartment and back to work at Pete's. I'd shake my head at both suggestions, and stay buried in warm blankets on the growing-on-me ugly couch.
My sister would head off to work, telling me that they were looking for another girl, and sisters would be a huge tip-maker, which, of course made me blush at just the thought of wearing those tight shorts. Then she'd come back later in the evening with an obscenely large wad of cash from those tips...and sometimes with Griffin's hands firmly attached to that absurdly tight uniform. On those nights, I wished our apartment was a little bigger, or soundproof.
And Denny stopped by every night after he got off work. I marveled at first that he was still so attentive, after everything I'd done to him. But I did notice the emotions he didn't want me to see - the tightness around his eyes when he looked at Kellan's chair, the sadness in his features when he looked over my body, and the guilt he'd swallow back when he looked at my bruise.
His voice also betrayed the casualness of his actions. He'd harden up whenever we talked about our history; I tried not to bring it up very often. He'd crack and have to swallow and restart if we talked about that night, about the fight; I tried to do that even less. And he'd refuse to talk at all about Kellan, only saying that he rarely saw him, but when he did things were "cordial". In fact, the only time his voice warmed and his accent thickened in an excited way, was when he spoke of going home, of starting his new job and seeing his family.
I was equally delighted and scared of that prospect that was looming larger every day. It seemed to grow larger and larger every time he visited. As I got better, he got more and more anxious to be gone. By the end of the week, we talked less and less about "us" and he talked more and more about his job. It was no surprise to me when he told me he'd moved up his flight a few days early. It was no surprise, but it still hurt tremendously.
A few days later found me driving him to the airport in his Honda, wanting that final goodbye, that closure. I walked with him through the sea of holiday travelers and held his hand, which he surprisingly let me; he usually tried to keep our physical contact minimal. I thought maybe he was savoring every last minute as well.
When we finally arrived at his gate, I froze and my mouth dropped open in complete shock. Sitting on a chair and staring at his cast, which was completely covered in writing and drawings, was Kellan. He looked up as we approached and my heart sped up. He looked better since I'd last seen him at the hospital, only a bluish bruise at the base of his eye and a couple of pink scratches marred his perfection, or perhaps they amplified it. Whatever the case...he was stunning.
He stood as Denny slowly walked over to him. Denny reflexively clutched my hand tighter for a second, and then he dropped it completely. I struggled to keep Denny's slow pace over to where he waited, my eyes never leaving Kellan's face.
His deep blue eyes however, were locked only on Denny's. He seemed to be purposely avoiding looking at me. I didn't know if he did that for Denny's benefit...or his own.
He held his hand out to Denny in a symbol of friendship. His eyes studied Denny's face as Denny studied the offered hand. With a small sigh, that to me, echoed loudly throughout the noisy, crowd covered room, Denny grabbed his hand and firmly shook it. The corners of Kellan's lips curled up in a tiny smile and he nodded briefly at Denny.
"Denny...man, I'm..." he trailed off, words failing him, as his eyes drifted to their still shaking hands.
Denny released his hand and brought his to his hip. "Yeah...I know, Kellan. That doesn't mean we're okay...but I know." His voice was tight, his accent thick, and tears stung my eyes watching the two once close friends struggle to even find words to give each other.
"If you ever need anything...I'm...I'm here." Kellan's eyes moistened as he said that, but they remained fixed on Denny's face.
Denny nodded and clenched his jaw. Several emotions seemed to sweep through his features before he finally sighed and looked away. "You've done enough, Kellan."
My heart squeezed painfully at the infinite ways that one sentence could be interpreted. In one line, Denny had pretty much summed up everything between them - the good, as well as the bad. It tore my heart, and warmed it at the same time.
I felt a tear roll down my cheek, but I was too intently watching Kellan to do anything about it. I was sure he was going to crack. I was sure he was going to sob and beg Denny's forgiveness on his hands and knees if he had to, but then, a ghost of a smile touched his lips and he swallowed roughly, forcing back the tears encroaching on his eyes. It seemed that Kellan had decided to take the good in that sentence, and leave the rest behind.
Kellan clapped Denny's shoulder affectionately. "Take care...mate." He said it warmly and with no trace of an implied accent; Kellan was one of the few people I'd met who never tried to sound like Denny. With Kellan, it somehow seemed a level of respect that he never tried to copy him.
Denny seemed to understand that and while maybe not exactly reciprocating feelings of respect for Kellan, he did clap him warmly on the shoulder. "You too...mate."
Then Kellan gave him a swift hug and walked away from us. The urge to reach out and grab his shirt, to make him look at me, talk to me, was so great...but I couldn't make a scene with Kellan while saying goodbye to Denny, not after everything we'd put him through.
So I balled my hands into fists to stop the strong desire sweeping through me, and I silently watched him leave. Just as the crowd was swallowing him up, he turned to look back at us. Our eyes finally met for the first time in so long, that an actual ache ripped through my body at the all too brief connection. I watched his mouth drop open and his face contort in pain and I knew he'd felt the same agony rip through him. He wanted me...he still wanted me, but I'd hurt him too greatly.
His hand came to the bridge of his nose as he turned back around, the crowd immediately obliterating any sign of him. I closed my eyes and when I reopened them, Denny was watching me with an expression on his face like he finally understood something. I didn't know what he'd seen in that one painful glance, but he'd definitely seen it. With a shake of his head and a suddenly sympathetic look, he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to him, in an almost consolatory way.
I lay my head on his shoulder and as one, we turned to face the windows, to watch his plane gleam in the sun. "I'll miss you, Denny," I finally whispered, once I could speak again.
His arm squeezed me tighter. "I'll miss you too, Kiera. Even with everything, I'll still miss you." He paused, then whispered, "Do you think...?" I pulled my head up to look at him, as he turned his head to look down at me. "Do you think, if I had never taken the job in Tucson, you and Kellan never would have...?" He looked down at the ground and bunched his brows. "Did I throw you to him?"
I shook my head and rested it on his shoulder. "I don't know, Denny, but I think that, one way or another, Kellan and I would have..." I looked up at him as he looked back down on me. I couldn't finish that sentence, not directly to him, not with his dark brown eyes looking back into mine so painfully.
"I'll always love you, you know," he said thickly.
I nodded and swallowed. "And I'll always love you... always."
He smiled softly and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers starting to brush my cheek. With a look of great internal debate, he finally bent down and gave me a tender kiss on the lips. It lasted longer than a friendly kiss would, shorter than a romantic kiss would. Somewhere in the middle, just like us.
When he pulled away, he kissed my bruised face once, before I laid my head back on his shoulder. I squeezed his free hand while his other held my body close to his, and we waited. Waited for them to announce he would leave. Waited for our separation to be permanent. Waited for our deep, but broken connection, to be physically severed.
Eventually it did happen and with a long sigh he pulled away from me. After grabbing his bag from where he'd dropped it when he'd taken Kellan's hand, he kissed my head in farewell. I clutched his hand and held on to him until the last possible second. The very tips of our fingers were the last pieces of our bodies to stop touching each other. I felt something leave me when the contact stopped. Something warm and safe, and at one point in my life, something that had been everything to me. He held my watery eye contact with his own until he disappeared around the corner, and I knew that those warm, deep brown eyes and that charming goofy grin, were finally lost forever to me.
My body shut down. I felt it going. I felt my legs leaden and my knees buckle, and my head fade to a hazy gray-black. My legs hit the floor with a thud that I was sure shook the bolted seats in front of me, and just as I waited for my still tender head to smack painfully onto one of those seats, warm hands cradled me.
I recognized the scent first, the unmistakably delicious odor of leather and earth and man that was Kellan Kyle. I didn't know how he was with me, and I couldn't see him yet through my foggy vision, but I felt him and knew it was his arms that held me.
He lowered my head carefully to his knees as he huddled on the floor beside me. One hand stroked my back, while the other felt my face, making sure I was okay. "Kiera?" His voice still sounded distant, even though I knew he was right beside me.
My vision started clearing and his faded jeans came into focus. I weakly lifted my head and attempted to understand what was happening. His eyes softened as he gazed down at me, his casted hand rubbing my back, his other fingers tracing my face lovingly. Instantly I realized I'd fainted, and he'd been watching me, always watching me, and had saved me from a world of pain. Then I remembered our distance, and my ache and overwhelming grief at watching Denny leave. I sat up and threw myself into his arms, straddling his knees on the floor and tangling my arms around his neck, never wanting to let go. He stiffened and convulsed like I'd hurt him, but eventually he brought his arms around my back and held me tight to him, rocking us gently on the floor and murmuring that it would be okay.
The roar of the airplane's engines brought our attention back to the ache forefront in our minds, and we both turned to look at the window and watch the huge plane begin to taxi away from us. We both watched it silently, tears streaming down my face and soft sobs escaping my lips. Kellan continued to rub my back and rested his head against mine, occasionally bringing his lips to my hair. I clutched at him fiercely and when the plane left my sight, I dropped my head to his shoulder and sobbed mercilessly.
He let me hold him until my pain eased, if not stopped. When I was hiccupping and attempting to breathe with some normalcy, he gently, but firmly, pushed me off his lap. I tried to stay, embarrassingly clutching at his clothes, but he was persistent and eventually he released himself from under me and stood.
His face was resolute as he stood in front of me. I had to look down. I had to stare at the floor. For a brief moment I'd thought we'd reconnected in our mutual grief, but I must have been wrong. His face didn't look like he was welcoming me back to him. His face looked like he was about to say goodbye again. I didn't want to hear it again.
A hand reached out and gently touched the top of my head as I stared at my knees on the floor. I tentatively looked up into Kellan's amazingly perfect, bruised face. A soft smile played on his lips and his eyes had warmed a bit, although, the sadness never really left them.
"Can you drive?" he asked lowly.
Grief threatened to wrench through me again at the thought of driving home alone and sitting in my empty apartment alone. I wanted to tell him no, that I needed him , that I needed to stay with him, and we needed to find a way back to each other, back from my mistake. But I couldn't. I nodded my head, yes, and prepared myself for the one thing that had always sort of terrified me...being alone.
He nodded and held his hand out to me to help me stand. I took it and clutched his warmth tightly as he pulled me up. I stumbled a bit and put my hand on his chest to steady myself. I felt a bandage under my fingertips and he flinched in pain. My hand was resting on his Pecs not his ribs, so I wasn't sure why that hurt him. Maybe his injuries were worse than I knew. Maybe he just didn't like me touching him.
He removed my hand, but continued holding my fingers. We faced each other, both hands clasped together and standing close, but an almost insurmountable distance was between us.
I'd chosen him and then left him. How would he ever forgive me?
"I'm so sorry, Kellan...I was wrong." I didn't offer any more explanation than that. I couldn't, since my throat closed up completely and speech just wasn't possible.
His eyes misted over and he nodded. Did he understand what I meant? That I meant I was wrong for leaving him...not wrong for loving him. I couldn't explain and he didn't ask. He bent his head down to me and I instinctually raised my chin. Our lips met in the middle - soft and passionate, pulling apart, before fully sinking into the feeling of being together. Dozens of tiny, hungry, not nearly long enough kisses that spiked my heart rate.
Finally, he forced himself to stop, and pulled away before it got to be too much, and we both caved to the underlying sexual tension that was always between us. He dropped my hands and took a reluctant step back from me. "I'm sorry too, Kiera. I'll see you...around."
Then he turned and left me, breathless, spinning with confusion and grief, and...alone. His words echoed in my ears and I felt one hundred percent positive that he hadn't meant them. I felt positive that I'd just seen the last of Kellan Kyle.
Somehow I made it home. Somehow I managed to not break down while driving, and smack right into the back of someone in my tear-obscured vision. No, I saved all of my tears for the heart-shaped pillow my sister had scrounged somewhere for me. I drenched that thing, and then mercifully fell asleep.
My world felt a little lighter when I woke the next day. Maybe it was because my head felt better and the bruising was switching colors, indicating that some healing was going on somewhere in my body. Or maybe it was because the final painful break with Denny had been made, and I didn't have to be anxious about it anymore. It was done...we were done...and even though those words hurt my heart, I felt okay.
Showering and getting dressed brought even more relief, and as I looked over my beaten skull, I wondered where my life would go from here. Certainly I needed to find a job. And I definitely needed to catch up on schoolwork. Winter break had already hit while I'd been recovering, but a few phone calls from my doctor, and me, and surprisingly Denny, had gotten me an extension on the classes I was behind in. And if I poured myself into school, I was confident I'd be caught up before next quarter.
I clenched my jaw and decided that was what I'd do. I may have lost my job, my boyfriend, and my lover, but if I focused hard enough, I could possibly keep my precious scholarship. And if I did that...maybe, just maybe, my heart would heal as slowly and assuredly as my head.
Denny called me two days later, right before my sister and I were about to fly home for Christmas. My parents had the tickets they'd gotten for Denny and me, switched over to my sister and me, and seemed genuinely sorry when I'd told them that things hadn't worked out between us. They'd also grilled me for two hours on when I was coming back to Ohio U.
Denny told me all about his new job and his upcoming plans with his family. He seemed genuinely happy, and his good spirits lifted mine. Of course, his voice did break when he wished me a Merry Christmas, followed immediately by, "I love you." It seemed to slip out of his mouth without him thinking about it, and a silence hovered in the air between us as I wondered what to say to that. In the end, I told him that I loved him too. And I did, there would always be a level of love between us.
The next day, my sister and I braved going home for the holidays. She artfully covered the slight yellowing of my bruise with makeup, and vowed that she wouldn't mention the accident to mom or dad; they'd never let me come back to Seattle.
Before I left my bedroom, I rifled through my dresser for the hundredth time, looking for the necklace that Kellan had given me. Every day I wanted to wear it, wear a piece of him with me, since I hadn't seen him in so long, but I hadn't been able to find it since the night he'd given it to me. A part of me feared that it had been lost or stolen in the fiasco. A part of me feared that Kellan had decided to take it back. That would almost be the worst scenario. It would be like he was taking back his heart.
I still couldn't find it, and had to leave the city without my symbolic representation of him...and it cut deep to do so.
Home with my family was odd. It was warm and welcoming and a barrage of childhood memories hit me, but it didn't feel like "home" anymore. It felt like I was walking into a best friend's house, or an aunt's house. Somewhere comfortable and familiar, but still a little foreign. It had the overall vibe of childhood safety, but I felt no desire to stay and wrap myself in that feeling. I wanted to be home...my home.
We stayed a couple days after the holidays and then, my sister even itchier than me, we said tearful goodbyes to our parents at the airport. My mother was a blubbering mess as she watched her two girls depart, and I momentarily felt bad that my heart was anchored so far away from them. I'd told myself that I'd just fallen hopelessly in love with the city...but a tiny part of my brain, that I forcefully ignored, knew that wasn't it. A place was just a place. And it wasn't the city that made my heart pulse and my breath quicken. It wasn't the city that drove me to distraction, and left me sobbing in the still of the night.
After my frantic catch-up on schoolwork over the holiday break, and wistfully watching my sister duck out on New Year's Eve for a special D-Bag performance that twisted my heart into knots, I focused on the second most important thing I needed to get squared away - a job. What I ended up getting, early on in the New Year, was a waitressing job at a popular little diner in Pioneer Square, where Jenny's roommate Rachel worked. The place was famous for its all night breakfast, I guess, and drew quite a crowd of college kids. It was hopping busy on my first night there, but Rachel gleefully showed me the ropes.
Rachel was an interesting mix of Asian and Latin with latte skin and mocha hair, and a smile that charmed quite a few frat boys out of some large bills. She was as sweet as Jenny, but quiet like me. She didn't ask about my injury and even though she had to know the whole torrid love triangle (being Jenny's roommate and all), she never once commented on my romances. Her quiet was soothing.
I fell into my new job easily enough. Along with great managers and amusing cooks, the tips were good there, the other waitresses welcoming, and the regulars were patient. It didn't take me too long to feel moderately comfortable in my new home.
Of course, I missed Pete's like crazy. I missed the smell of the bar. I missed Scott in the kitchen, even though I didn't really spend too much time with him. I missed talking and laughing with Jenny and Kate. I missed dancing to the music from the jukebox. I even missed horny Rita, and her never-ending stories that made me blush all over. But of course, what I missed the most about Pete's, was the entertainment.
I saw Griffin repeatedly, as he came over often to "entertain" my sister. Actually, I saw way more of him than I ever wanted to see. In fact, I now know that he has a piercing in a spot that I'd never imagine a guy voluntarily asking someone to push a needle through. I considered scrubbing out my eyes after that little naked encounter in the hallway, one evening.
Matt would occasionally stop by with him, and we'd chat quietly. I'd ask how the band was going, and he'd start talking about instruments and gear and songs and melodies and shows that went really well and a few places that he'd managed to line up gigs, and on and on about the business end of it. Not exactly what I wanted to hear about, but I nodded and politely listened to him, watching his pale eyes sparkle as he talked about the love of his life. I was glad after talking to him, that Kellan hadn't left Seattle; Matt would be crushed if their little band broke up. He really believed that they had a shot at going big one day. Thinking over their performances, with a painful tug in my heart, I did agree. With Kellan as their front man...they could go all the way.
Sometimes Matt and my sister would talk about Kellan, only to stop when I entered the room. One such conversation left an icy pit in my stomach. I'd just quietly cracked open the front door and heard them talking in the kitchen. I heard Matt's soft voice finishing telling her, "...right over his heart. Romantic, huh?"
"What's romantic?" I muttered, as I walked into the room, thinking they were surely talking about Griffin, although, I couldn't imagine what he'd do that was "romantic". I grabbed a glass and started filling it with water, when I finally noticed the awkward silence suddenly in the room.
Pausing, I noticed my sister staring at the floor, biting her lip, and Matt looking out into the living room, like he really wanted to be over there. That was when I understood that they weren't talking about Griffin. They were talking about Kellan.
"What's romantic?" I said automatically, even as my stomach clenched. Had he moved on?
Anna and Matt looked briefly at each other for a second, before simultaneously saying, "Nothing." I set down the glass and left the room. Whatever romantic gesture he'd done, I didn't want to hear it anyway. I didn't want to think about who he was with now, about who he was "dating". Whatever romantic thing he had done for a girl -some girl not being me - I didn't want to ever hear about it.
Surprisingly, I ran into Evan at school. Aside from work, school was really the only other place I went. I spent every free moment there, studying, and quite honestly, busing my head, to stop the gnawing ache in my heart. I'd been coming out of one of the impressive brick buildings, lost in painful thoughts I shouldn't have been thinking about anyway, when I'd nearly run right into him. His warm, brown eyes had widened and glowed at seeing me, and then he lifted me into a massive bear hug and I giggled until he let go.
Apparently, Evan was a big fan of people-watching on the campus. He loved hanging around the school, and had even made Kellan take the freshman tour with him nearly a half dozen times, a couple of years ago. With a small grin, Evan confessed to me that he'd had a huge crush on the girl giving the tour at the time. Surprise flashed through me, as I realized that that was how Kellan knew so much about the campus. He had certainly been with girls here, but the majority of his intimate knowledge, was because of Evan dragging him on the same tour that I'd drug him on.
That thought made my eyes water, and Evan's happy face looked over me with a trace of concern in it. "Are you alright, Kiera?" I tried to nod and that only made my eyes water more. Evan sighed and brought me back in for another hug. "He misses you," he whispered.
I startled and pulled away at that. Evan shrugged. "He acts like he doesn't...but I can tell. He's not Kellan. He's moody and writes a lot, and snaps at people, and drinks a lot, and..." He stopped talking and cocked his head. "Okay, well, maybe he's still Kellan." He grinned as I managed a half-laugh. "But he really misses you. You should see what he..."
He stopped talking again and bit his lip. "Anyway, just know that he hasn't moved on or anything." A tear fell on my cheek as I wondered if that was true, or if Evan was just trying to make me feel better. He tenderly brushed the tear away. "Sorry, maybe I shouldn't have said anything."
I shook my head and swallowed. "No, it's okay. No one will really talk about him in front of me, like I'm porcelain or something. It's good to hear about him. I miss him too."
He cocked his head at me and his brown eyes turned unusually serious. "He told me how much he loved you. How much you meant to him." Another tear threatened to fall, and I brushed my lid to halt it. His face blushed curiously as I sniffled. "That night...that I kinda...walked in on you. I really didn't see anything," he quickly added. I blushed in kind, and he looked at the pavement for a moment.
"He told me once about his childhood...about his parents' abuse." My mouth dropped open as I gaped at him. I got the impression that he didn't talk about that with anyone. Evan seemed to understand my expression and smiled grimly. "I figured he told you. With me...he was really drunk. I don't think he even remembers telling me. It was right after they died...when he saw the house." He raised an eyebrow at me. "You know that's not his childhood home, right?"
I frowned and shook my head, I hadn't known that. He nodded and sniffed. "Yeah, we were playing bars in LA, once we got together with Matt and Griffin, doing pretty good too, made a name for ourselves down there. Then...well, I still remember the day his Aunt called, and told him they'd both been killed. He dropped everything and drove up here that night. We followed him, of course."
He looked down at the pavement and shook his head. "I don't think he ever really understood why we did that, why we moved here with him. I don't think he grasped that we believed in him, and loved him, like family. I still don't think he grasps that. I think that's why he thought he could ditch town without telling us." He shook his head again. "He said he thought we wouldn't care, that we'd just replace him." I cringed that Kellan had been going to bail on them, because of me, and was a little surprised that Kellan thought he was so easy to replace. That word sounded so wrong in reference to him.
After a silent moment, Evan looked back up at me with an eyebrow raised. "Of course, his version of family is a little...skewed." I nodded at that, and thought over just how twisted Kellan's version of love had been, for most of his life. Evan cleared his throat and continued. "Anyway, they left him everything they had, even the house. He seemed really surprised that they would do that, but he was even more surprised when he saw the house...and realized they'd moved."
Evan looked out over the campus, his eyes speculative and sad for his friend. "They never even bothered to tell him that they'd sold the home he'd grown up in. That they'd moved across town. And then...he found out that they'd tossed out all of his stuff. And I mean, everything, there wasn't a single trace of him in that house, not even a picture. I think that's why he tossed out everything of theirs."
My breath caught as I realized that was why Kellan's house was so barren when we first moved in. It wasn't just that he didn't care about decorations, which I'm pretty sure he didn't. It was mainly because he had inherited a home that was completely foreign to him, and then out of anger or resentment, or both, tossed everything of his parent's...everything. He'd left no trace of them in his life, really he'd left no trace of any life in his life, until I'd come in and thrust mine upon him. His never-ending pain made my heart thud loudly in my chest as I ached with sympathy for him.
Evan sniffed again as he looked back to me, another tear rolling down my cheek as I was too stunned from his revelation to wipe it away. "They were real bastards, but...their death still really affected him. He got really ripped and told me about what they used to do to him. Some of his stories..." Evan closed his eyes and shook his head, a light shudder running through him.
I closed my eyes as well as I thought over all the conversations I'd had with Kellan about his childhood. He'd never gone into specifics with me, about just what his father used to do to him. From the look on Evan's face, I'm guessing he'd gone into some pretty horrific details, and it had really affected Evan. I was both grateful I didn't know, and curious to know, those details.
When he reopened his eyes, they shone with compassion for his friend. "He must not have grown up around a whole lot of love. I kind of think that's why he screwed around so much. I know that sounds weird, but...he's always seemed a little different in the way he went after women." He scrunched his brows as he unknowingly correctly analyzed his band mate. "He's not just a horn ball like Griffin. He was almost...desperate to connect with someone. Like, he really wanted to love somebody...he just didn't know how."
He shrugged and laughed. "That sounds weird, I know. I'm no psychologist or anything. Anyway, I think that's what he saw in you...why he risked it. I think I understand what you meant to him." He put his hand on my shoulder. "What you mean to him."
I brought a hand to my mouth and held in a cry. I was sure Evan didn't know everything about Kellan's upbringing, but he understood a lot more than Kellan probably realized he did. He smiled sadly at my reaction and shrugged again. "I'm not trying to hurt you or anything. I guess, I just wanted you to know that he still thinks about you."
With tears freely flowing down my cheeks, we said our goodbyes and he walked away, waving. I couldn't tell Evan that even though I knew I'd meant something to Kellan at one point, and maybe, he did still think about me...I also knew from Matt's slipup that he was trying to get with other people. I liked to think that it was hard for him, that he was forcing himself to do it, but, Kellan had every right to try and move on from me. I'd hurt him so badly. But I couldn't mention that to Evan. That part of Kellan's life, I did not want to talk about...with anyone.
And even though I missed my D-Bags, I was a little glad that I didn't see them more often. It hurt too much. And of course, the one that I really wanted to see, stayed completely hidden away from me...and I let him, even though it kind of killed me.