Forever Reckless

  Forever Reckless

  Brittany Butler

  Copyright 2015 Brittany Butler

  Prologue

  My eyes slowly peel open. The sunlight bathes through an unfamiliar window. I try closing my eyes, willing to forget. I blink, hoping this dream will end and I will be in my bedroom. My luck fails me.

  My eyes linger on the other half of the bed. William, my childhood friend, is stretched across the bed. The white sheets wrap around his waist, leaving his chest exposed. His dark blonde hair is tousled, carelessly scattered on his forehead. A faint smile rests on his face. In this moment he doesn’t look like the newly big shot, control freak I’ve grown accustom to. He looks different—peaceful.

  A blush creeps across my face; memories of last night invade my mind. Not to be misinterpreted, I’m not a virgin and this has happened a lot, but never with him.

  I gently push the sheets back to grab the pieces of scattered clothes that line his bedroom floor. My body groans in protest with an ever present hangover. I tug on my plain black shirt and my skin-tight skinny jeans before leaving his apartment. I push my sunglasses on my face as I exit his building.

  New York City, home of the original walk of shame, as I step on the sidewalk I no longer feel ashamed. The sidewalks are loitered with people leaving a strangers apartment. But William isn’t a stranger. I shake my thoughts and walk into the first coffee house I see.

  The bell chimes when I walk through, modern art scatters the wall, indie music flows from the speakers. The booths are filled with writers and their chorus of clicking keys, girls drinking mochas in over-sized sweat shirts.

  “Next!” I look up to find a girl with pink hair and a piercing through her nose, frowning at me.

  “Large coffee, black.” Like my soul.

  She runs my card and hands it back to me. I accept my coffee and walk outside to hail a cab. My phone buzzes from my pocket. I freeze when I see that Adrian texted me.

  My plane just landed

  My coffee slips from my hand and splatters on the sidewalk. Reality crashes into me like an angry tide. My boyfriend is in New York to meet my family, and I’ve just cheated on him with my best-friend. I hail a cab and direct it to the airport.

  The city streaks past me as I contemplate my next move. Do I tell Adrian? Or can I put this behind me and pretend that this never happened? I’ll see William often, but he’s my best friend and this was a mistake. I don’t have feelings for him. It was simply the vodka clouding my judgment. I can’t act on impulse; I force a tight smile and will myself to make it through the holiday.

  Chapter One

  My eyes linger over each unopened present. Any other Christmas my sister and I would be begging to open early gifts, insisting that we do each tradition. But this Christmas is different. This holiday will forever be remembered as ‘The day Adrian stopped putting up with my shit.’

  Our relationship faltered when I came clean about what really happened on Thanksgiving break. It was a mistake. William is my best friend. Or my personal favorite, it won’t happen again. It happened, again, and again. I told William the same line, of course. I fed each of the guys’ promises that I knew I couldn’t keep, but I couldn’t decide. I couldn’t make the decision to end ties with the first guy I had an actual relationship with, or my best friend.

  All good things must come to an end, it backfired. After Adrian read that text, we caused a huge scene before he stormed out of my house for the first flight to San Francisco. My parents keep meeting my eyes with a sad, apologetic smile. They want me to talk, but what would I say? Although my reputation couldn’t be worse, I can’t tell them the truth. I feel too awful. That’s where I’m confused, why do I feel anything?

  “Let’s open an early present,” my mom says. My sister, Hilary, agrees.

  I pick up my phone to call Audrey, but then I remember that she hates me too. This is exactly why I didn't tell Audrey what happened between Kellen, her boyfriend, and me! We almost hooked up a few years back, long before they met. I knew she would be upset and end things with Kellen. It was a stupid, drunken night that was forgotten by both participants until some dumb skank told her.

  I want to speak with Audrey, but I decide its best to wait until I'm home. Audrey needs to know that it was a mistake that happened years ago. I want her to forgive Kellen, he needs her. If anyone can tame an unattainable bad boy, it's Audrey.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I mumble. My mom shoots me a concerned look, but it’s replaced with joy as Hilary rips into her first gift.

  She thanks our parents for her first gift and turns to me. “Toss me one,” I tell her. I tear off the wrapping paper to reveal a new MacBook.

  “You mentioned that yours has been running slow,” my mom explains. I lift the corners of my mouth, realizing I was scowling at the gift.

  “It’s great, mom. Thanks,” I tell them both. My dad nods and returns his attention to my sister.

  “I’m here for you if you need to talk,” my mom tells me. She wraps her arms around me and plants a kiss on the side of my head.

  “I know,” I tell her, but she knows that I won’t talk. This isn’t a scrape she can kiss to make me feel better; this is a disaster that happened because I’m reckless.

  I lay my laptop on the couch and walk into the kitchen to find the one person I can talk to. I spot her salt and pepper, shoulder-length hair and small rectangular glasses, I grin. Phyllis was a part of our family before I was born. She has warmth about her that makes my heart swell. Her British accent only makes me love her more. I would request story after story from her as a child, never tiring of her voice.

  “There’s the lady I was looking for,” I say. She pops her head up from dinner, awarding me with a big smile.

  “How are you, love?” Her rich accent is tender.

  “I’m okay,” I tell her. I pull a bar stool from the kitchen island to take a seat. I glance around the cold, industrial kitchen in my parent’s house and grimace. I never knew why they found this room attractive.

  “Do you want to talk about it? You know I won’t tell your mum,” she sweetly reminds me. I know she’s telling the truth. Phyllis has listened to many stories from me. She has kept them to herself, or else I would be kicked out of this family. She understands my need to have an interesting college experience. But I would like her to think under my exterior there’s a decent person inside, and right now I’m not sure there is.

  “Not yet.” I shake my head. I offer her my most convincing smile. I have nothing to say, and yet I had to see her. She always calms me.

  My dad walks into the kitchen; he’s traded his button down shirt for a sweater. He slides on a coat and grabs the unopened bottle of wine from the counter. I glance at Phyllis, she has her head down.

  “Going somewhere?” I ask him.

  “Yeah, something came up at the office.” He smiles, digging in his coat pocket.

  “But it’s Christmas Eve…” He finds his keys, plants a kiss on my head, and waves to Phyllis.

  “Merry Christmas, princess.” He walks to the side door that leads to the garage. When I hear his car crank I turn to Phyllis.

  “Who is she?”

  “Same one,” she says, looking at me apologetically.

  I want to scream, call her names, break something—anything to take the pain from my family. But I can’t, because I’ve done the same thing. My little sister’s laughter fills the living room, bringing a smile to my face. Maybe they didn’t see my father leave. I don’t want him to ruin their night.

  “Are you ready for tomorrow? The Chase family will be here…” Her eyes cast over the rims of her glasses.

  “Like every other holiday,” I remind her. A soft, knowing smirk appears over her face.
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  I sit, starring at the white cabinets in front of me. While Phyllis prepares food for our Christmas feast, I simply sit and enjoy her company. When she announces that she’s going to bed I stand and stretch before following her from the kitchen.

  Her arms wrap around me. “If you need anything I’m just down the hall,” she reminds me.

  I nod my head, “G’night, merry Christmas, Phyllis.”

  “The same for you Miss. Foxe,” she grins at me and walks up the stairs. I peek into the family room before going to my bedroom. My mom and sister have gone to sleep. I yawn and trudge upstairs to collapse in bed.

  ⇟

  The brush glides over my full lips, glossing over the second coat. I tug on my red dress, and correct any smeared make-up. My reflection shows a blonde-haired, pale blue eyed, heart shaped face beauty. But on the inside I’m torn apart. Within minutes William and his family will be here.

  I hear a knock on my door. “The Chases are here,” my mom calls to me. “Olivia?”

  “Coming!” I toss my make-up in my bag, slip on my shoes, and walk downstairs to join the families.

  Dianna Chase gracefully glides across the floor to pull me into a tight embrace. Her chin-length blonde hair is pinned from her face, accentuating her warm brown eyes. Her husband clasps hands with my father before walking into the living room.

  “How are you, dear?” She asks me.

  “Never better,” I mutter.

  William steps through the door and locks eyes with me. He’s alone, the corner of his mouth quirks in a subtle smile.

  “You must remember William,” his mother clasps her arms around him, pushing him into my direction.

  “Barely,” I say, he smirks.

  Our mothers walk into the living room after their husbands. I glance in each direction, searching for Phyllis or Hilary. Once I’m satisfied, I turn to him.

  “You’re alone.”

  “So are you,” he says, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Where is she?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound hopeful, or worse, desperate.

  He shrugs, “With her family.” He slips his hands in his pants, leaning casually against the door frame. “I didn’t invite her.”

  My mom bursts through the opening, “Come, come. We’re ready to eat.” She smiles, waving us inside.

  "It smells divine," Dianna beams.

  "How is your other son, Michael?" My mom asks as she seats herself.

  "He's well. He made partner at his firm."

  "Probably because his firm is owned by his dad," William says. I take a sip, hiding my smile.

  "Don't be bitter," his dad chimes in. "You had the same opportunity as your brother."

  "He dropped out of law school during his first semester." His mom adds.

  "What are you doing now?" My dad asks, intrigued.

  "I'm running Henson for Vivian. Audrey doesn't want it. I'm hoping she makes me an offer soon."

  "An offer?" His mom seethes.

  "Yes, I plan to buy it with the right offer. Audrey doesn't want it. Vivian needs to get that through her head."

  "William that sounds permanent."

  "Dianna that's enough," his father finally puts in an end to the show.

  Phyllis comes in carrying the last tray containing a pie. I smile and mutter an awkward thank you. My fork rakes nervously across my plate, shoving untouched food around. The tension is growing thicker by the second. I steal a glance at William; he looks unfazed like this is a normal family dinner. He never mentioned problems with his parents to me.

  Frowning, I can’t help but wonder, why would he tell me? He has her.

  "Olivia." My head snaps to attention. Dianna is watching me with a warm, tight smile. "Did you hear me?"

  "No, sorry."

  "I understand you're about to graduate."

  "Yeah, I am."

  "What are your plans after graduation?"

  Just like that all eyes are on me. "I have absolutely no idea."

  Her smile falters, and the conversation trails from me. I catch William grinning my way. I shove my chair back and stand to leave this room.

  "Where are you going?" My mom asks.

  "I'm finished."

  "You're not excused," she reminds me.

  I walk from the room before I yell. The faux persona we portray when they're around makes me sick. I can't be in the same room with those people any longer. I hate being degraded and talked to like a wayward adolescent. A hand catches my wrist. Jolted, I turn to see William standing behind me.

  "You always were dramatic." His lips tuck into a grin.

  "I do what I want," I shoot back at him. He laughs at me, which rubs me wrong. "Why did you follow me?"

  "I don't know. The conversation was going so well." The sarcasm dripping through his tone isn't lost on me. "Before I stopped you, where were you going?"

  "To my room. I was planning on slamming the door, maybe screaming." I shrug my shoulders. "I was deciding on the way."

  His lips break into a wide grin, "Amateur." He walks past me, purposely touching me. I watch him, confused, as he walks up the stairs.

  "Do I need to come get you?" He asks.

  "No," I laugh, making my way up the stairs. He walks into my room, closing the door behind me.

  "That was brutal," I say, taking a seat on my bed.

  "I've had worse." He inspects my walls and picture frames that line my tables. He stops and leans down, his eyes focusing on one. "I remember this," he laughs.

  He hands it to me. Memories flood back as I look at the night of my Halloween party. I was a senior in high school and it seemed like a good idea at the time. However, my parents returned early. Audrey, William, and I are dressed up and grinning at the camera. I hand it back to him; he puts it down and looks at each one.

  I grow self conscious of him being in my high school bedroom. It hasn't changed. Purple is the dominant color, lining my bed and my curtains. The pictures and decorations represent an awkward time in my life. I have the urge to explain this to him, but I clamp my lips together.

  "The screaming and door slamming has subsided. What do you want to do now?" He collapses onto my bed, catching my gaze. For a moment I think he's flirting with me. But I push that aside, I don't know where he stands with Rachel.

  He leans closer, tucking a lock behind my ear. His breath, minty fresh, teases my lips. "No," I blurt out.

  He leans back, his expression confused. "What?"

  "I can’t."

  "Is something bothering you?"

  "Rachel."

  "Ah," he says, leaning back on my bed. His hand runs down his face. He sighs, exasperated.

  "Are you guys together?"

  "For right now. I just haven't had the chance to talk to her." I roll my eyes, pissed off at the same excuse we've fed to each other for a month. "When she gets back I'm going to talk to her."

  "If you're doing that for me, don't bother."

  "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Of course I'm doing it for you,” he says, his expression is sad.

  Sighing, I cross my arms. “What’s keeping you with her?”

  “My timing is off,” he says, shrugging. “I tried last week but she… Never mind. It doesn’t feel right talking to you about this.”

  “She what?”

  “She told me she loved me before I had the chance.” He clasps his hands in front of him while looking at the floor.

  “What did you say back?” I demand. When he doesn’t answer I fume. “You said it back, didn’t you?”

  “No! Damnit stop jumping to conclusions.”

  “You have to tell her. It’s not fair,” I say, shaking my head. “You can’t string her along while trying to get with me.”

  “You think I don’t know that?”

  “I think you know, but I’m not sure you care.”

  “It’s going to crush her.”

  “Maybe leave this part out,” I say, wiggling my finger between us. “She needs to know you don’t feel the same way.”


  “I know, Liv. I will.”

  "Well, I hope you figure out what you want." I stand, working up the courage to leave him.

  “I know what I want. I knew from the moment you snuck out of my apartment.”

  My hands ball into fists at my side. I want to tell him off but I bite my tongue and storm off. If he felt the way he claims, he would end it with her.

  This life is a sick, cruel one. How is it fair that I have feelings for my best friend? My emotionally unavailable, fucked-up in the head, best friend. I make my way into the kitchen, finding Phyllis. She offers a warm smile as I sit on a bar stool. I pull pieces of food from each platter, sampling the dinner I missed.

  "Do you want to talk about it?" She asks.

  "There's nothing to talk about." The truth of my words leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

  Chapter Two

  My plane touches down in San Francisco. My first thought is joy, the sun is shining and my body can thaw out after my visit in New York. My second thought is, a night out. I pull out my phone and type a text to Audrey, but I stop. Shit, my best friend hates me. I’ll go home and beg for her forgiveness. I’ve burned so many bridges that I’m officially stuck on my island alone.

  “Miss, do you need a cab?” I snap from my pity party to see a cab driver leaning out of his window to get my attention. I nod my head, toss my bags in and slide into the back seat. I intend to use the drive to rehearse my apology, but I’m easily sidetracked.

  When the cab pulls in front of our house, my eyes are glued to Kellen’s white Range Rover parked in the driveway. I want to yell at the driver to drive far in the opposite direction. I reach for my bags and attempt to smooth my facial expressions before I walk in. Eventually I’ll have to face them, it’s better to get this over with.

  I walk in the door and keep walking past the living room. Kellen passes by me but I don’t glance in his direction. My plan is to run upstairs unnoticed and think of how to approach her.

  “How was your trip?” I glance at her to make sure she’s talking to me. This has to be a mistake, but her eyes are fixed on me. Her blonde hair is pulled in a loose bun and her face is free of make-up. She looks rough, beautiful, but rough. The corners of my mouth tug down when I remember that I’m responsible for this.