Ryan Michele - Wanting You

“What changed your mind then?” Gunner’s hand touched my thigh, but I didn’t pull away.

“Me. I changed.” We sat in silence for a moment. “After I went to college and got away from my mom, I finally realized that I’m not the shit on the bottom of someone’s shoe. I’m worthy of wanting what I want. I guess you could say I gained some confidence.” I smiled over at him.

“Glad to hear it, because you are a beautiful woman.”

“Thanks.” I blushed.

Hearing the sound of a car pulling up, I glanced over to see the cab I asked the bouncer to grab me was parked and ready. “Sorry to cut this short, but I have to go. Thank you for tonight.”

“It was fun. Thank you.”

“For what? I used you like a therapy session. What a great night for you,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Stop. It was great. It was nice to have a conversation that wasn’t hyped up on getting someone in bed.”

“Thanks, I think.” I didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.

“Vann, just remember that, in life, lots of things aren’t what they seem. Sometimes it takes blind coincidence to pull in your favor. Sometimes it’s pure luck. Other times, it is persistence. Think about what you really want. You never know, this guy could be hiding and not ready to be found quite yet. It could be him and not you.”

As Gunner’s words began to sink in, I was mesmerized by his straightforwardness and willingness to give advice.

“Thanks.” Walking up to him, I threw my arms around him one final time. His strong arms pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank you for everything,” I whispered in his ear.

“It was nice to meet you, Vann. I’ll see you around.” Letting me go, he opened the cab door as I climbed in.

“Same here.”

Shutting the door, the cab took off. I couldn’t help but turn around to the man still standing there. If only it was a different time in my life, maybe it could have worked.

Deke

Fuck. I felt like I just experienced some out of body shit. Vann had no clue who I was, but she was damn smart. The comment about getting rid of my hair and changing a few things struck me. I should have known that if anyone would be able to tell, it would be Vann.

Luckily, alcohol played a role in keeping her thoughts away from the realization. But that fucking conversation. I wanted to know why she left. I’d wanted to know for five years, but couldn’t bring myself to talk to her. Anger was something that just ate at your insides, and I was too damn stubborn to let it go.

When she left, I couldn’t take it.

“What’s this?” I asked Mom.

“It was taped to the front door with your name on it,” she said curtly.

Who the hell would tape a note to the door? Texting, calling, emailing … but a letter. Really?

Climbing up the stairs to my room, I opened it.

She left? No, she didn’t leave. I just talked to her last night. She never said one word about leaving me.

Grabbing my keys, I ran outside and two doors down to her house. Banging on the door, my heart was beating feverishly. No answer. I slammed the door again with my fist, but nothing.

Running around the house, I peered up at Vann’s window. I’d climbed in it several times, and she always left it unlocked for me. Hoisting myself up, I found it open. Bingo.

Climbing in her room, everything was scattered. There were clothes, books, pictures laying aimlessly on the floor. The closet door was wide open, hangers dangling from the racks.

Shit.

Walking through the house provided the same picture. Everything was out of place and ransacked. If I hadn’t gotten the note from Vann, I would have thought they had been robbed.

She’d really left. Going back into her room, I slowly eased onto the bed. Lowering my head into my hands, a lone tear fell from my eye. She couldn’t have just left me.

Raising my head, I looked up to the ceiling; I thought God really hated me. I didn’t understand what I had done wrong in my life to keep having bad things happen every time I turned around.

Glancing at the dresser, I noticed a bunch of jewelry thrown about. Rifling through it, I didn’t see anything of significance. Looking down, I noticed the top drawer askew and something shiny caught my eye.

Inside was a long, black leather rope chain, and attached to the end was a key—a very old looking key with a long, rounded belly and a lone notch at the end. The top was rounded in several spots in a swirly design.

Reaching in, I picked it up in my palm, the weight of it heavy against my fingers. Clutching onto it for dear life, I wished that Vann would come walking in the room and say it was all a joke. But she never came in.

Eyeing the key, I realized this was the only connection that I had to her now. Slipping the key around my neck, I clutched it to my palm.

And five years later, I could still feel the rope of leather around my neck. Placing my hand on my chest, I could feel the key through my shirt. The rope was very worn since I had yet to take it off.

Heading back into the bar, I set my sights on grabbing Z and getting fuck out of here. Sliding up to him, I said, “Let’s go.” Z was still talking with Kinsley and Sawyer at the bar and, from that damn smile on this face, appeared to be enjoying himself. I wasn’t sure why he did this to himself; he knew these girls were off limits. They were the relationship type and that was not Z or I.

A slight brush of a hand on my arm caught my attention. Sawyer. I smiled politely at her. “Did Vann get in the cab okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry about her. She’s just not herself right now.”

“It’s cool. She told me about it.”

Sawyer’s eyes bore into mine as she whipped her head around. “She told you about him?”

“Yeah.”

“But she knew you a whole five minutes,” she argued.

“Guess I’m easy to talk to.”

Sawyer sat for a bit, staring at me. “Huh. Well, he doesn’t know it, but he did a number on her.”

He did a number on her. What the fuck? I didn’t leave, she fucking did. Shaking my head out of my internal freak out, I focused on Sawyer.

“She said she had to leave.”

“Yeah, not by choice; her mom guilted her into it. She’s a piece of work. She tried to stay with her Grams, but her mom spewed a bunch of shit at her, and she believed it. Hell, she even tried to stay with me.” Turning to look me in the eye, she added, “I’m not sure what she told you, and she just has a lot to get over, but don’t count her out yet.”

Winking at me, she pulled Kinsley back out to the dance floor, leaving Z and me in the wake.

“Let’s go,” I growled.

“We gotta get some first,” Z argued.

“No. Not tonight. Let’s go.” Grabbing his arm, I pulled him to move.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Z barked at me.

“Nothing. Let’s go.” I let anger flow through me. I knew I was radiating some seriously mean vibes. I couldn’t put how I was feeling into words anyway.

“Fuck.” Z finished his drink and followed me out.

The car ride back was quiet, except for the roar of the Camaro engine. My mind replayed the entire conversation with Vann and Sawyer. She was guilted into going? Really?

Climbing out of Vann’s window, I ran. I took off until my body couldn’t move, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I hunched over and leaned against a large oak tree. The run did nothing to clear my mind, though. Did she even know how deep her leaving cut me? Did she even give a shit?