What Happens Over Spring Break: A Short Story Anthology Read online

  I guess I was wrong.

  The date with Elliot wasn’t terrible. When he showed up at my apartment, he wore jeans and a button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up at the elbows. He was classically handsome. Hell, he looked like he’d stepped out of a magazine ad. But the guy was funny. He tried so hard to make me laugh and distract me from my broken heart. We ended our date with a kiss on the cheek and plans to get together again. He said that I needed something to take my mind off Trevor, and at first I thought he was insinuating something physical.

  And I was right.

  Only he was suggesting running.

  Elliot liked to do marathons, and said that running was a great way to take your mind off everything else and just exist. It seemed like a load of crap, but he urged me to give it a try and I was surprised at how true it was. Thoughts of Trevor would still enter my mind, but I was more focused on healing myself.

  And thanks to Elliot, I had come out of my funk and emerged back into the world of the living.

  But even six months post-breakup, I was still not in a place to be in a relationship, and neither was he. He never elaborated on his aversion to relationships, but I never really questioned it either. I was a good listener, and if needed to talk about it, I would listen. It was the reciprocation part of the conversation that I was no good at.

  I appreciated the friendship we had, and I couldn’t deny that I was in a better place. Still, we grew tired of the question “are you okay?” and decided to use our friendship as a smokescreen when needed. I’d be his date when a situation called for it, and he would return the favor. Especially when it came to my family. Mom and Dad were so worried after the breakup that the first time I showed up to dinner with Elliot, I didn’t have the heart to tell them that we were just friends. And they didn’t know the truth until Erica blabbed about it a few weeks before the wedding, during her final dress fitting.

  Apparently, while there was no romance between Elliot and me, we could fake it quite convincingly because Mom was stunned.

  “Elliot, you look so handsome,” Mom gushed as she adjusted his tie.

  Elliot was quite attractive, with dark brown hair and brown eyes. His chiseled jaw was peppered with a bit of facial scruff that made him appear slightly older than his twenty-five years. He had a tiny scar just to the side of his lip that he told me he got from his sister when they were kids.

  “Thank you, Mrs. James.” He smiled. “And you look beautiful yourself.”

  I noticed a tinge of red touch Mom’s cheeks at the compliment, and she smiled.

  She opened her mouth to say something else, but when she saw my sister walking toward the bathroom the conversation stopped.

  “Will you two excuse me? I think Erica needs me.”

  She kissed my cheek and rushed off to assist, giving me the time to finally breathe normally.

  “I’m so ready to go,” I told Elliot. “It’s been a long day.”

  “What? And not have cake? Hell, we haven’t even danced yet,” he protested playfully. “We have to have at least one dance.”

  “But my feet are killing me,” I told him, hiding the truth that seeing Trevor there for the first time since the breakup was torturing me.

  “Then take them off. Who cares? It’s your sister’s day and I really don’t think she’ll mind if you walk around without those ten-inch heels.”

  “Three,” I corrected with a huff.

  “Whatever. Take them off and let’s go.”

  Before I could come up with another excuse, the DJ requested that the wedding party report to the dance floor.

  “That’s us,” Elliot said, taking my hand in his gently and pulling me alongside him.

  The bridal party stood on the dance floor, all of us looking to the others for answers, but no one had a clue. The DJ walked over to us and asked the guests to applaud us for making the bridal party cut, and continued making a few lame jokes at our expense.

  “Okay, so all of you look confused as to why you’re out here, so I guess I better explain.”

  We nodded and he continued.

  “Erica and Brad will be having their first dance shortly, but they wanted to try something a little different. Instead of an anniversary dance, or something like that, they’ve decided to have a dance-off.”

  There was a burst of laughter at the suggestion as the wedding guests gave the DJ their full attention. I looked at the other bridesmaids, who wore the same confused expression because Erica had never mentioned anything about further public humiliation.

  “As the song plays, if your dance moves aren’t up to par they’ll tap you on the shoulder, and that’s your cue to exit the dance floor,” he said. “So to stay in, you better keep it interesting—and PG, folks. There are kids here,” he laughed.

  I whispered to Elliot, “We’ll be gone in no time.”

  “You’ve never danced with me before,” he muttered back, and I looked up at him to see a sly grin on his face.

  “Okay, are we ready?” the DJ asked. “Now try to keep up, because as an added twist, the songs will change without notice.”

  I, and the rest of the bridal party, groaned at what was about to take place. But when I looked over at Erica, she looked incredibly pleased with herself and that brought a smile to my face. That is, until I pointed a finger at her and mouthed a few choice words that she decided to ignore.

  “We’ll make this easy to start, okay?” And with that, he played a song that everyone recognized from Grease, so of course we all quickly did our version of the hand-jive. Except Jenny, Erica’s oldest friend since we were kids. She and Daniel, our cousin, were laughing so hard at their lack of coordination that Erica and Brad tapped them on the shoulder almost immediately and they were the first to be dismissed. They received a few sympathy “aws” as they departed, leaving five couples still on the floor.

  The DJ then began playing the “Cupid Shuffle,” but being a teacher, I was familiar with the dance. My second-grade students had played a game to the song during their Valentine’s party the month before. Elliot followed the steps, adding a few moves of his own, but I hated the feeling of having all eyes on me so I stuck to the basics. Since everyone was able to keep up with the selection, no one was eliminated and the DJ changed it to salsa music.

  “We’re done,” I laughed as I looked up at Elliot.

  I was not the most fluid dancer, but I could keep up when I had a good partner. I was waiting for the happy couple to tap us on the shoulder when Elliot took my hand in his and started to spin me. To say I was a little more than surprised at how well Elliot could dance would be an understatement. He skillfully twirled me and led me around the dance floor as if we’d done it a million times. I was so caught up in his movements that I didn’t notice two couples were eliminated during the song.

  There were only three sets of us left, and the DJ took pleasure in pointing out that it was only going to get more difficult from there.

  “I think this has to be the hardest to move to,” I said as Elliot continued to move us around the dance floor.

  “You’d be surprised,” he said with a smirk.

  The song suddenly changed to swing music, and I paused my movements as I tried to figure out what to do next. Elliot grabbed my hand and again started leading, just as he had done with the salsa music. It was so much fun dancing with him, and I was impressed with his ability to move so effortlessly.

  “How did you learn this?” I asked as we danced.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet,” he teased.

  “Apparently,” I said.

  Another couple was dismissed from the little contest, leaving us and another bridal couple.

  We were beginning to celebrate our triumph when the song changed, slowing down to one that I recognized all too well. My heart thudded in my chest and it felt as if my legs wouldn’t move anymore. Elliot stepped into my space, pulling me close to him as he wrapped an arm around my waist. I grippe
d his shoulder tightly, feeling as though I might lose the ability to move altogether.

  “Elliot,” I whispered, feeling exposed at hearing the song that reminded me of Trevor.

  “Shh. It’s okay, Bee. It’s just a song,” he said.

  I leaned back to get a better view of his face and he offered a lopsided grin.

  “I’m okay,” I said, trying to smile convincingly.

  He nodded but didn’t take his eyes off mine, and I found myself either unable to look away—or not wanting to. It was hard to tell.

  “No, Bee, you’re not okay.”

  “I am. I’m fine.”

  “You never talk about it, but I know you’re not completely over it,” he said, and I understood then that he knew more than he would admit.

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” I told him.

  “Is he here?”

  I was certain that Brad or Erica had mentioned that Trevor would be there. Elliot was trying so hard to distract me, but when that song played, it wasn’t as easy. I dropped my face and stared at the button on his shirt as I nodded, but he reached between us and lifted my chin with his finger.

  “Do you know how beautiful you look today?”

  He had complimented me before, but it was usually about how my running time had increased, or telling me he was impressed that I was getting more runs in. But I didn’t recall him complimenting me physically.

  “What? I can’t say something like that?” he asked teasingly. I guess the shock I felt at his words registered on my face.

  I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Erica and Brad had tapped the other bridal party couple from the mix, leaving only us.

  “I don’t think you’ve ever said something like that to me,” I said, feeling slightly vulnerable at the time.

  “I’ve wanted to say it every time I’ve been with you,” he said.

  “You have?”

  He was staring so intently into my eyes that I could feel the sincerity in his words. My entire body warmed as we continued moving to the music, but as we turned, my eyes landed on Trevor again.

  “Just pretend he’s not there,” he said quietly. “It’s just you and me right now.”

  When I looked up at him, for the first time, I saw eyes looking back at me that were full of understanding and admiration. In the time that Elliot and I had spent together, he was always confident bordering on cocky. That was not the man in front of me at that moment.

  For once I was at a loss for words, but when his eyes darted to my lips, I knew what he was thinking. Only I wasn’t sure if I was on the same page as him. All eyes were on us since we were the last couple standing and I didn’t like the attention. We stopped dancing and I dropped my arms as I took a step away to give myself some distance. My head was spinning because all of it was too much to take in. And as the guests applauded, the DJ walked toward us and I felt my cheeks grow hot.

  “Well, it looks like we have our winners. The maid of honor and the best man.”

  Brad shouted something and Elliot laughed—some inside joke between them. He nudged my shoulder playfully with his and reached out to raise our hands in the air. It was then that I noticed our fingers were entwined.

  “Brad and Erica are about to take the floor, so we’re gonna have to ask you two lovebirds to step aside.”

  I wanted to kick the guy in the balls. I got that entertainment was his thing, but at the humiliation of others? I searched for the nearest exit, but I was still tethered to the man I considered my friend. Although it was beginning to feel like maybe he wanted more.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please give a round of applause for Mr. and Mrs. West.”

  Elliot and I cleared the dance floor, giving the happy couple the space. The music started and I watched as Erica teared up, staring lovingly into Brad’s eyes. They were so happy.

  “Will you excuse me?” I asked, pulling my hand from Elliot’s.

  “Wait…”

  I was practically running away as I glanced over my shoulder, promising to return with a forced smile fixed on my face. But as I neared the bathroom, there were several women standing outside of it, waiting to enter.

  “Damnit,” I muttered, which caused several eyes to look at me.

  I was certain Elliot would come to check on me, but I needed space. As I stood there, I decided to check out the bridal room around the corner. I knew that no one would be there—at least I hoped. We’d stashed Erica’s going-away dress in there earlier in the day, along with the bridal party’s belongings.

  As soon as I entered the room, I closed the door behind me and pressed my back against the solid wood door and exhaled loudly.

  Tears felt like they were bubbling at the surface, and just as I thought they would begin to fall, a burst of laughter erupted from me—uncontrollable you-are-out-of-your-mind laughter.

  “This isn’t happening,” I said aloud through my chuckles. “What the hell.”

  The small beige room was covered with all the extra wine bottles, guest favors, and bridesmaid duffel bags that we didn’t have anyplace to store. It was a complete mess and there was nowhere to sit, since the single couch in the room was covered with everyone’s coats. All I wanted to do was have a meltdown in private.

  Trevor and I had ended and it was devastating. It had been six months, but in that moment it felt like yesterday.

  “Trev,” I said, as he sat on my couch watching a football game. “Can we talk?”

  “In a sec,” he said, not looking at me. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, his elbows resting on his knees. My irritation grew, because it was a pattern I’d grown tired of seeing. I worked, came home, changed, and then Trevor would show up. He’d give me an obligatory kiss as he walked in and would proceed to set up camp for the night in front of my TV.

  “No. Now,” I said, turning the TV off.

  “What the hell, Bianca? There’s only three minutes left of the game.”

  “How much time is left for us?”

  The words flew out of my mouth, and I felt as stunned as he looked. My pulse raced and I wished I could take it back, but it was a conversation we’d needed to have for a while.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  I took a deep breath and remained standing across from where he sat. I could tell he was angry by my question, but he had to realize it didn’t come from nowhere. Two years together—there are some things people talk about by that point.

  “We’ve been doing the same thing for the last five months. You practically live here, but you don’t.”

  “So you want me to move in?”

  “What?” I asked as I stood totally confused. “No. I mean…I don’t want to live with you.”

  “Bianca, what the hell is going on? Are you saying you want to break up with me?”

  “No,” I said quickly, wondering how he’d come to that conclusion. “I just want to know what’s going on. What do you see for us?”

  He sat back against the couch and scrubbed his hands down his face before looking at me again. When he smiled and waved me over, I felt my nerves evaporate as I walked over to sit next to him. Trevor’s arms wrapped around me, holding me protectively against him, and I loved it.

  “Baby, where is this coming from?” he asked.

  My head was against his chest and I listened to the sound of his heart beating beneath his shirt. I closed my eyes and memorized the sound, squeezing him tightly.

  “I love you, Trev,” I said.

  “But?” he asked.

  I exhaled and pulled away slightly so I could look at him. His blue eyes were staring at me, searching for answers, and I knew I had to push through with the talk.

  “What comes next for us? We’ve been together two years, and it seems like nothing has changed. Everyone else is moving forward.”

  “Is this because Erica is getting married?” he asked.

  “Don’t do that,” I warned. “This isn’t about
the wedding.”

  “Then where is this coming from? Why do things have to change?”

  “Because,” I said in frustration. “Because I need them to change. I need to know that this isn’t it for us.”

  “Then let’s move in together,” he said, sitting up and grinning. “Your place or mine, I don’t care. How does that sound?”

  As I stared at him, I realized that he knew what I wanted, but he didn’t want the same thing.

  “It sounds temporary,” I said. “It doesn’t sound like forever.”

  “It’s the best I can do, Bianca.”

  My eyes began to water and I knew the tears would spill any moment. But I needed to hear the words from him.

  “Is marriage in our future?” I asked, finding it hard to get the words out of my mouth.

  Trevor remained quiet and then looked away from me. He clasped his hands behind his head in a frustrated movement before standing up. My world was about to fall apart, and there was nothing I could do to stop it or take it back. And that was the moment my heart first began to fracture.

  “No, Bianca. It’s not.”

  And that was the moment it completely shattered.

  Tears streamed down my face, and somewhere in the far recesses of my mind, a voice told me that maybe he’d change his mind. But I knew better.

  “Then what are we doing?” I grabbed a tissue and wiped my eyes.

  “I love you,” he said as he walked over to me, but I stood up and walked to the door.

  Trevor watched me with wide eyes as I opened the door.

  “I love you too,” I told him. “But I can’t do this anymore. My heart breaks every time I realize that this is it for us. We will never be anything more than we are now. And I want more.”

  “So that’s it? We’re over?” he asked.

  He grabbed his keys and stormed to the door where I stood, and glared at me. It was the only time I’d seen hurt and anger in his eyes directed at me. As I stood there sobbing, it took every ounce of strength I had not to reach out and wrap my arms around him. My forever was slipping away before my eyes.