Easier to Run Read online

  He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Then, give it to me. You asked me to help the other night.”

  I shook my head while I gathered the strength to speak. “I didn’t even know what I was talking about.”

  “Let me in, Cassie.” He squeezed the back of my neck pulling me closer. “We’ll figure it out and face it together. All you have to do is give me the word.”

  I closed my eyes, pulling back slightly and testing his grip. It was firm and sure. “Yes.”

  His lips found mine again, and I relaxed into his touch. Following his cue when his tongue pressed at my mouth. My body went lax in his grasp, letting him pull me closer as his tongue jostled with my own, assaulting my senses with his taste. The buzz in my ears became a roar as my heart pounded in my chest demanding its freedom.

  “Better?” Ben asked, a slight smirk drawing his mouth up sideways.

  I wasn’t sure I could ever look away from his eyes, and I trusted my mouth less than usual to speak, so I just nodded.

  He pressed one more quick kiss to my lips, then laid back, pulling me with him.

  “You don’t think I’m too young?” I asked, still not convinced that anything about the situation was real. There was a good chance my three drinks had been too much and I was enjoying some kind of alcohol induced fantasy.

  “When have you ever let being too young stop you?”

  “Anytime you’ve been involved.”

  He made a sound in his throat. “Like when you crashed my study sessions with your sister, or school lunches, or football celebrations.”

  “You didn’t complain.” Why didn’t he ever complain? Even my sister complained about it on a regular basis, but then, she had to live with me.

  He rubbed the back of my hand and stared up at the ceiling. “You know my Dad is seven years older than Mom, right? We’re not exactly setting any records.”

  “We grew up together.”

  “Not in the same house. Stop overthinking it.” He traced my lips with his thumb, and I closed my eyes, slipping deeper into quiet peace, and hoping that it could keep me.

  Cassie

  Morning came too early, but we had to hit the road again. Home. I wasn’t ready to reconcile that notion. I also wasn’t sure what to say given the turn of events the night before.

  “You look exhausted,” I said, staring across the cab at Ben. After the storm cleared, it left the air thick and miserable, and even within the protection of the air conditioned cab, the world seemed more miserable. I felt exhausted down to my core, so I knew he had to be. I wasn't the one who'd been driving for hours on end every day. On top of that, we were both emotionally wrecked.

  Ben huffed and shook his head. He'd barely spoken since we got out of bed and he had another call from his dad. Being the quiet one was usually my role, and it seemed especially strange on him.

  I had walked back into a mess, and even though I wasn't sure of my place in the whole thing yet... I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to stay either.

  It had been almost a week, but I still hadn't figured out what I was going to do.

  My money was going to run out eventually. Dirty money. I almost wanted it to be gone. I wanted to be rid of it and the entire memory. But that one memory, in particular, was online and no longer a secret.

  I wondered if Ben was really mad at me—disappointed in me. It was a stupid mistake because I was weak and desperate, but making him understand that was a different story.

  “Promise me something, Cas?” he asked.

  “What?” My heart fluttered. Part of me knew exactly what he was going to ask of me.

  “Stay.”

  I opened my mouth and closed it again. One simple word, but it wasn’t a simple request. “I'm scared.”

  “Of what?” His even tone didn’t dismiss my fears.

  “Being there.” I took a long deep breath. “I don't know where else to go either.”

  “Stay with me. You'll be safe. My roommate is a driver too and he's hardly ever home either.”

  “Ben, I—” I shook my head. I was going to get enough flack over everything. “People are going to think—”

  He groaned. “Who cares what people think? You need to be somewhere you feel safe. I'll sleep on the damn couch and give you all the space you want, but I want—” he paused, and the cab was silent for a long time. “I want you somewhere I don't have to worry about you.”

  “Don't think I can make it on my own?” It wasn’t a genuine accusation, but I was running low on arguments.

  He scoffed. “I know you can, but I don't want that to be your only choice. I don't think you do either. “

  “I'll think about it,” I said.

  “Well you have about an hour left,” he said with a laugh.

  The roads had been quiet all morning—a bittersweet respite. It gave Ben a break, but it also meant we were making fantastic time. “Thanks for the reminder,” I said.

  “You haven't stuttered since we hit the road this morning,” he said.

  I hadn't thought about it. Too many hundreds of other thoughts raced through my head instead. I didn't know what to say either. “Are you sure you're not mad at me?”

  He huffed and glanced over—his expression twisted with hurt. “Why on earth would you still think that?”

  “What I did—”

  “I won't say it doesn't bother me. I'm barely grasping at understanding, but do you want me to run down the list of everything I've done that I regret? All of the stupid things you could hold over my head. We all have something, sweetie.”

  “But mine is on the internet for the world to see.”

  “And that sucks.” He snorted. “But we’ll get through it.”

  Get through it? How do people get through filming pornographic videos, having them posted online, and then going back to life as usual? It was fucked up on the largest scale I could imagine—granted I hadn’t done heroin, become a hooker, and contracted a deadly disease.

  I stopped my thoughts. I sucked at trying to reassure myself. “What if other people find out?”

  “Then we deal with one disaster at a time.”

  One at a time. I felt sick to my stomach. It seemed like there were already more than one to deal with. I felt selfish. We were heading back to deal with Ben's “problem.” It seemed wrong to think of it like that, but his ex fit under the problem definition perfectly. And the bitch definition. I wanted to ask why in the world he got wrapped up with someone like that. Because he was always on the road, or because he didn't want more?

  “I'll stay,” I said. At least that gave him one less thing to worry about. Then again, maybe he wanted other things to worry about, and I could give him plenty of that.

  “Good.” He smiled and stretched across the cab to squeeze my arm.

  “Your roommate won't care?”

  “I doubt it,” he chuckled. “Like I said neither of us are usually home.”

  “That's reassuring,” I muttered. If the whole point was not being alone, that seemed quite contradictory.

  “I figured you'd just tag along with me until you got settled,” he smirked. “I thought you liked traveling with me.”

  “I need a job, or something. I can't just leech off of you forever.”

  “You'll figure it out. But, give yourself time.”

  ***

  Chuck was waiting outside the building when we pulled into the lot. It was a Saturday afternoon, so the rest of the lot was dead. I shoved all of my stuff in my bag and waited for Ben to climb out first and walk around to open my door. I didn't want to step out.

  I wasn't ready to be back home. I wasn’t ready to be stationary.

  And worse yet, after the last couple of days, I wasn't ready to face Chuck.

  My stomach perfected a tumbling routine while I scaled down the side of the truck. Ben's hand touched my back, and he took the bag from my shoulder, tucking me under his other arm. The blood in my veins turned to concrete, weighing down my arms and legs until I didn't have the e
nergy to move. His touch did so many things to me—none of which I wanted Chuck to know about.

  “Sorry, to cut your trip short,” Chuck said, more to me than to Ben.

  I shrugged, but I didn't really know what else to say.

  “I need you in the office for a few minutes,” he said to Ben, nodding toward the back door. “Maybe we can meet you in the parking lot, Cassie.”

  I glanced from Chuck to Ben and nodded, so Ben reluctantly handed me back my bag. “No disappearing,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Promise,” I mouthed, giving him and Chuck a quick smile before I started my long trek across the lot alone.

  Ben

  I had no idea what Dad wanted, but I knew it couldn't be good. What else did I need to hear? How badly I'd screwed up? I'd already told myself that a hundred times.

  “You all right?” Dad asked as he filed my return paperwork.

  I sighed and gave him the only truthful answer I had. “I have no idea.”

  “Did you know before you left?”

  I shook my head. “Didn't know until Monday night. She just called me up and told me.”

  “Cassie know?”

  I nodded. “Who doesn't at this point? I tried to talk Liz out of it—tried to get her to talk to me, but—” I sat down against the desk. “She doesn't want a compromise. I—”

  I shrugged. There were so many more things I wanted to say, and yet there was nothing I could say.

  “And what about you and Cassie?” Dad crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the wall.

  My gaze jerked up. “What do you mean?”

  “I'm not blind. You're gone for a week and things are different.”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, so I stayed away from anything incriminating. “I think it's been a long time since she's had room to breathe and be herself.”

  He saw right through it. “I'm not just talking about her.”

  “Dad, I—” I shook my head.

  “You can say whatever you like, but don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  “I do. And I don’t.” I rubbed my hands over my face trying to buy a moment to get my thoughts straight. “Hell, you seem to have figured out more than I have. How?”

  “Simple,” he said. “Now you look at her the same way she’s always looked at you.”

  I sighed, closing my eyes and shaking my head. “Anything you don’t know?”

  “Don’t be a smart-ass.” Dad pressed his lips together and tilted his head to the side. “There’s plenty I don’t know. You and her were always close, but she’s also like part of the family. So, I’m going to have to think long and hard about whose side I take if you two ever have it out.”

  “Hers,” I chucked. “You’ll take hers.”

  “Probably,” Dad said with a smile. Then, he patted my shoulder. “But you have a lot to think about before you drag her into this.”

  “I know—” I exhaled and stared across the room at the old pictures that covered Dad’s office wall. “But Cassie. She's—she's what I've been missing. When she moved away, I—”

  “You fell apart,” Dad finished where I didn’t have words.

  “She was fifteen,” I growled.

  “And for eleven years she was an important part of your life. You lost a friend, even if she was younger. You watched her lose everything, and you tried to be there for her through all of it. But you're not kids anymore—neither of you are. You already have a lot on your own plate to deal with. Before you do anything crazy, you need to slow down and think.”

  I imagined his head exploding if I announced she was staying with me, so I tested the waters first. “Are you saying we shouldn't travel together?”

  “I'm saying you both need time to heal and consider whatever you might be feeling for each other, now that your lives are so different.”

  I'd always respected my dad and his opinion. Usually anyhow. It didn't always mean I listened—I should have taken his advice long ago when it came to Liz, but I thought it was no big deal. I wasn't serious about her, and I always thought there'd be a way out. There was still a way out, but that had come at a huge cost.

  “I know you care about her,” Dad said, interrupting my thoughts again as he switched off the office lights. “And a lot can change in six years.”

  “She’s not fifteen anymore.” I followed him through the door, my conscience now heavier than it was when I pulled into the lot. Why did it have to keep getting more and more complicated?

  “And I’d guess she doesn’t have a lot of people she can rely on. Work on being that person first.”

  “Yes, Dad,” I said moderately sarcastically. Even if he was right.

  I held my breath as we stepped out the door, praying that she hadn’t gotten cold feet and taken off, but when we rounded the corner and the parking lot came into view, she was sitting against the trunk of her car, picking at the hem of her shirt.

  “I assume you’re staying around,” Dad said.

  Cassie nodded. “Ben talked me into it.”

  “We have extra space at the house if you need a room,” Dad said. “And you’re always welcome to dinner.”

  “Thanks. I—” She glanced in my direction.

  “I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable with Ben.” Dad chuckled and shook his head as he walked to his car.

  Cassie blushed slightly but smiled. I joined her on the trunk and pressed my shoulder against hers. “Welcome home, Cas.”

  Cassie

  After the looks Chuck gave us, I doubted my decision long before we reached Ben's apartment. Being inside the apartment made it even worse. I left most of my things in the car to be unpacked later—maybe—and just brought up a small bag of clothes and my meds.

  The apartment was so much different than being in Ben's truck. This was like stepping into someone else's life. I wasn’t sure why it felt so much more intrusive since he spent more time in his truck than here, but maybe that was the problem—this felt more like his private life.

  “Kitchen's probably empty,” Ben said. “But welcome to my place.”

  The kitchen and living room were open with beige walls and carpeting that I figured was the standard for the building. Along with an entertainment center that covered one wall with DVDs and games, a blue couch sat in the middle of the living room catty-corner to a red armchair that didn’t match at all. Not even the tall wooden chairs that lined the breakfast bar matched.

  “Middle door's the bathroom,” Ben said, pointing to the three white doors that lined the back wall. “My rooms on the left, you can put your stuff in there. And I'll... round up some clean sheets.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Are you sure—”

  “You're here,” he said, taking me by the shoulders and pressing his forehead to mine. “You're not going anywhere.”

  Someone pounded on the front door and I jumped away, my heart lodging in my throat.

  Ben peeked through the peephole then threw his arms in the air. “She's a fucking stalker,” he whispered. “You might want to disappear for a few, and... don't mind the impending fight.”

  “I'll charge my phone and put in my headphones,” I said.

  I dropped my bag inside the bedroom door and closed it, leaning back and sliding down the solid wood to the floor. My body tingled with the excess tension and anxiety I'd built up again. It'd been two days since I had taken my anxiety meds, but they knocked me out almost instantly and left me numb to the world.

  Most of the time, they also kept away the dreams though, so it was worth it.

  I dug through my bag, pulled out my phone and power cord again and found an outlet to sit next to. Once my phone booted up, I popped the ear buds in my ears and turned up the volume just enough to turn the conversation on the other side of the door into muddled mush.

  Gone were the football posters and music posters that used to adorn Ben’s walls. This room was sparse, less lived-in. Ben’s life was on the road now. His truck had
more elements of home than these four walls. But a silver picture frame on the dresser stood out, and I stood to investigate. The last football game that Ben played in—the state championship. They’d lost by three points, but a few dozen college football teams came calling for our running back.

  He said no to all of them.

  He already knew what he wanted to do. Sometimes, I thought he was crazy for it. But I assumed there was a lot more to his decision that he didn’t want to talk about. He loved football, but I don’t think he ever wanted to live it.

  Instead, he choose what really made him happy. No one else had to understand.

  In the picture, I was wrapped around Ben’s arm. He was covered in mud, grass, and sweat, and I was bundled up in the only high school sports sweater I ever owned with streaks of school colors in my hair. His girlfriend was somewhere around too, she was some track star, who went off to college the following year on a sports scholarship.

  Ben started driving. A year later, my sister got married, and a month after that, my parents died. Ben and his family were there with us through it all—like extended members of our family. Sometimes those memories made how I always felt about him seem even more wrong.

  I traced the smooth silver frame.

  I’d kept all those feelings to myself—apparently not so successfully. But his friendship meant more to me than anything else. Knowing that he was always there and always had my back.

  But then, in the back of his truck, less than twenty-four hours ago, he kissed me.

  I’d asked for it, in my crazy state of not-really-thinking, but he kissed me. And it had been more than a kiss. It shattered walls in my body and sent my blood rushing and my head spinning. For so long, I had thought I knew where I fit into his world. I felt safe and secure there.

  My grandparents had taken the iron-handed approach to everything. No phone, no internet, and definitely no contact with Ben. In their minds, he was the cause of my problems anyway. I needed friends my age.

  Right, because they were so understanding.

  Ben was the only person who ever fully understood me—and I think that was mostly because he didn’t really try to understand me or work me out, he just let me be. He let me be the wild babbling girl on his arm after the big game because that’s what I needed to be then. He let me come on the road with him because that’s where I needed to be.