Five

"Betrayal is the only truth that sticks." - Arthur Miller

Callie

His mouth began to get slightly blurry as he spoke, which was definitely a sign I needed to stop begging Brandon for more shots. I've had four, and he immediately cut me off after that, but my tongue craved the taste and my body craved the numbness.

He took only two, and the only thing I noticed that was different was that he talked a lot more. I sipped on my boring ice water that he got for me while he served other customers. Mostly women that fucked him with their eyes as soon as he came to take their drink orders. I didn't blame them.

Brandon never really made eye contact, which was something I hated that I paid any attention to, but I did. I watched his eyes as they spoke to him, I watched his body language. He would dryly laugh at their corny jokes and focus his gaze on the drink mixes in front of him, or at me, occasionally.

A couple of guys tonight, a couple meaning literally only two, sat onto the stools next to me and tried to spark up conversations. I knew that happened in bars a lot, and I was nervous as hell at the thought of having to try and seem interesting to strangers before I got here. If you sit alone, people always assume you're lonely or want company. I wanted the opposite. But now I was tipsy and found myself not minding the presence of other men around me.

Especially when Brandon was watching. I even noticed him clench his jaw in annoyance when a man told me I looked sad and needed to smile more. It hurt to hear that stupid remark, and Brandon definitely noticed, but did not intervene. He only took the guys order dryly without eye contact, and when he got his long island iced tea he went to a redhead in a skirt across the bar.

Brandon rolls his eyes. "A long island tea, what a pussy."

I laugh, and try to forget about how I apparently look sad to everyone around me.

I still couldn't believe the interaction between Brandon and his girlfriend earlier. Besides her snotty personality, I couldn't help but notice how absolutely gorgeous she was.

She was model-worthy beautiful with perfect blonde waves that framed her face nicely. She had thinner lips that were over lined and filled in with a nude lipstick that suited her well. And when she got closer to me she smelled like an expensive perfume that I probably couldn't pronounce.

I looked at Brandon as she spoke to him. The look on his face as she talked could only be described as tension. His once calm and cool demeanor quickly changed with her presence that I swear could fill the room. I froze when she looked at me with her piercing sapphire eyes. She was definitely intimidating, but her smile and persona seemed illegitimate; almost venomous.

I felt like I could finally breathe when she left, and so did Brandon. He looked at the door for a few seconds after the doors shut with his hands on the counter. I watched his thumb tap the slick surface, and had to pull my gaze away before he could notice that I was concentrating on his lips for too long.

I was stirring my ice water with the straw as he ripped me from my thoughts.

"You feeling okay?" He asked, walking away from the group of girls that he'd been serving for about an hour now as they began to leave.

I nod. "Yeah, I'm okay."

He puts his elbows on the table and lowers his head to meet my gaze. I bite my lip, kind of, but not kind of on purpose.. the alcohol was burning in my veins, as well as somehow in-between my legs as I watched his eyes lower to my lips.

"Don't lie."

"I never lie."

He shakes his head slowly with a smirk. "Why do I feel like that's a lie?"

I shrug, sucking what's left of my ice water from the bottom of the glass, my eyes never leaving his.

"Do you love her?" I ask as a rush of rare bravery courses through me.

I instantly regretted it, but his face didn't change like I thought it would. Maybe he's thought of this already.

"Yes." He said too quickly before taking my glass and putting it in the dish bin. His eyes left mine for the first time in what felt like minutes as soon as he answered the question.

I think he is lying. I keep that thought to myself.

I look down to my lap and nod, fiddling with my slightly blurry fingers. God, I'm such a light weight.

"Have you been in love before?"

I scoff and look back up at him with scrunched brows and a grin."Yes, I mean, I think I have."

"If you think you have, you haven't."

I frown, wishing the subject would change. I guess I started it.

"You're probably right." I felt embarrassed saying this for some reason. I felt like everyone my age has at least had a taste of love. I had a boyfriend before, but with my mother so sick I never really let myself completely fall.

"I don't know," I continue. "it felt more like a friendship to me. I had love for the person, but it wasn't the kind of love he wanted."

Brandon nods slowly and sets an arm on the counter, his eyes urging me to continue. The alcohol was making him nosy, and it was making me want to tell him every detail of my life. Very bad combo.

"It started out okay. We were young, I was a hopeless romantic, I loved the idea of love." I laugh, genuinely laugh. Brandon just smiles.

"My mom liked him. Which made things a bit harder when I was going to end it, but he made it easy and did it for me." I pick at my fingernails and shrug, trying to seem carefree about it.

"I've seen in the movies all of that passionate shit, you know, and kinda craved it. But in that relationship it didn't really exist.

"I understand that." Brandon finally says after a few moments of somewhat comfortable silence.

"Maybe it just doesn't exist at all, for me at least." I smile to hide the twinge of pain I feel. "He found it just a month after we ended, though. Go figure."

I realize I've said that out loud when the air in the room seems to change. I could feel his gaze even when I was looking to my lap. I could see his fingertips slowly start to move towards me, and all I could seem to focus on was his veiny hands and tanned skin. I swallowed hard and finally grew brave enough to meet his burning gaze.

"Passion exists, Callie. Even for you."

"I," I try to speak, but it began to feel like we were the only ones in the room and the only things heard was the pattering of our hearts. I haven't felt anything like it before.

It's just the alcohol, I tell myself.

"I have to be going soon."

"Oh." Brandon stands up straight just as he and I both notice his coworker staring right at us with a cocked brow.

"I'm driving you home though. Your words are slurring."

"No, I'm fine. I live right down the block."

"It wasn't a question, I'll drive your car there and walk back down here it's no big deal. I need to walk off the shots anyway." He chuckles while untying his booze stained apron and mouthing to his coworker from across the bar that he would be right back.

"I promise it's not necessary.."

"I thought you didn't lie?"

I tried to come up with a quick response, but he was right.

"Okay." I sigh. "Thank you."

"No worries, we're friends now right?"

I sling my bag over my shoulder as we make way towards the doors to leave. He now has his hands shoved in his pockets as we made way across the dimly lit parking lot scattered with groups of people either smoking or making out.

I take my keys out and hand them to Brandon just as I try my best to hurry to the front seat to declutter at least a little bit. School papers, binders and notebooks were scattered everywhere.

"Excuse the mess." I huff and sit in the passenger seat, feeling the world spin as I closed my eyes.

The ride home was fast and completely silent. It wasn't a weird silent, though. I never felt awkward.. just afraid?

My stomach falls as we pull into my apartment complex, memories of my mother in the mirror resurfaced so quickly that I felt like it had just happened. It hits me hard.

"Actually, maybe we can go back to the bar. I'm feeling a little better now." I try to sound as normal and carefree as possible. I couldn't imagine stepping foot in the apartment without having my mirrors covered. It's something I decided to do on the drive to the bar after it had happened.

Brandon's eyes move towards my apartment building, then back down to me.

"Are you safe there? Is there someone-"

"No, no" I quickly stop him, but appreciate that he seemed genuinely concerned for me.

"Let me walk you up then."

"Brandon, I'm fine I promise. I actually think I just need to get some sleep." I feel heat rise to my cheeks and small tears pricking at the corners of my eyes in embarrassment. I was scared to go in my apartment alone, yes, but I couldn't ask him to follow me.

We both get out at the same time and he hands me my car keys. It's a bit chilly out, but I'd rather stand here all night with him than try to sleep with my dead mother staring at me.

"You have my number." Brandon says quietly and grabs one of my hands to slide something onto it. It was my bracelet. The thing I told myself I was coming to the bar for in the first place.

I give him a thankful smile and try to calm my breathing as I watch him slide it onto my wrist. The cold metal charms kissed my skin as they dangled slightly, I missed the feeling. He doesn't let go, only continues to look at each of the different charms while caressing my hand with his thumb. My face heats up. This felt like too much, but I don't dare stop him.

"Do you like music?" He asks softly, twirling the music note charm in-between his pointer finger and thumb.

I smile at the memory I had of my mom picking it out for me the same day she bought me a keyboard piano for my birthday. I remember her attaching it to the bracelet with a smile, the smile of a proud mother.

"I used to play Piano. Took lessons as a kid." I say while examining his features. He was focused so hard on my little bracelet that I loved so much; he looked at each charm individually, giving each of them their own special time to be admired.

He asked about each of them, all except the one obvious charm of a heart that said "mama" in the middle. It's what I've always called her.

The night sky above us was naked of any stars, and the air was cold enough to give my arms goosebumps. But with Brandon's hand still holding mine, it kept me warm enough to not mind the chilly breeze.

Brandon

I ended up deciding to go home after dropping Callie off at her apartment. I technically still had a few more hours at the bar, but I wasn't up for it and it was dead anyways.

I let my coworker know and then headed straight home before he could ask any questions. I couldn't get Callie and her soft voice and her soft touch out of my head.. she was slowly consuming me in a way I've never been before. Maybe it was simply infatuation. She was someone new and different, she was the opposite of my current girl but also the opposite of any girl I've ever met. She had demons, and I could tell by the look in her eyes before we said goodbye that there was something hiding. Lingering.

I did watch her go up to her apartment and I didn't leave until I saw she was safely inside. I wanted to be her friend, truly I did, but could I survive a simple friendship with Callie? Could I really survive looking into her eyes without thinking about devouring her mouth with mine? It's all I could picture.. those lips..

It's just the alcohol, I tell myself as I run a hand over my tired face and push my key into the lock. I pushed the door open and tossed my keys on the counter before freezing in place. I could hear noises, a loud banging coming from the bedroom accompanying the sound of moans.

No fucking way.

I waste no time and stride to the bedroom door before pushing it open to see exactly what I was expecting.

April screams dramatically as fucking ever, and the guy that was just literally inside of her was a fellow nursing student with me and was trying his best to scramble with the blankets to cover himself.

I walk towards him as he begins to stand up, fully ready to break his nose or at least draw some blood. But as I look into his scared-shitless eyes and then back to Aprils tear filled ones, I lift my hands in the air in defeat. I even start fucking laughing.

"You know what," I say, turning towards the closet to grab at least a bags worth of my shit. "You might have just done me a favor."

"Brandon, baby." April pleads as I see her pulling her skimpy top over herself from my peripheral.

"Dont." I snap, not even bothering to look in her direction. "You and I both know you can't afford this place on your own. So take a couple days, and I want you out."

I was done playing nice. I've always thought it was easier to carry her on my back for all these years than to end it with her. I thought maybe she would open her eyes one day and change, but you can't wait for someone to change when the change is not even a thought in their thick, dimwitted skull.

I was upset, raging. Enough to actually see red, but I didn't let it show.

"I..I" April tries to talk through her obnoxious sobbing, but by then I'm already making my way out the door.