First Crush, My Forever

Chapter 27

  "Hey, Dani. Is everything okay?"

  "E-Everything's fine. Just go home, Taytum."

  "Dani, come on. It's clearly not. Can I come in? Let's talk. Please."

  She shakes her head. Still won't meet my eyes. Her arms stay crossed over her chest like she's holding herself together. I step a little closer, not sure if I should, but I need to try.

  "Almost two weeks ago, we had that date. A real one. It felt good. You smiled. You laughed. We came back here, and it still felt right. The next morning was good too, even with me having to leave. Then I texted, and... nothing. Sunday, I came by, and no one answered. You didn't show up to school all week. Every message I sent? Ignored. What happened?"

  "I've just been... busy. Sick. And I realized none of this should've happened. It was wrong. We crossed lines. We're professor and student. You also work for me. We shouldn't be anything else."

  Dani's voice cracks near the end, but she's trying hard to keep it even. I can hear it though. That tremble. That lie.

  "You're telling me what happened between us meant nothing?"

  She shrinks into herself more.

  "We can keep it professional. I was fine with that. At school, around KK, we agreed. But here, Dani? You and me? That was real. You can't rewrite that just because it scares you now."

  She wipes at her face and stays quiet.

  "Dani, talk to me. Please. If I messed up, just tell me. If it's something I said when I left for the hospital, I need to know. Don't shut me out like this."

  I reach out, trying to take her hand, but she steps back.

  "Taytum, I already said... it was a mistake. I'll be back in class Monday, and I've requested your work-study be reassigned. That's it. We're just professor and student."

  My chest tightens. I don't even try to hide the way I flinch at that.

  "That's really how you feel?"

  Dani finally looks up, but her eyes are empty. Guarded.

  "It was a mistake," she says flatly. "I regret it."

  Those words hit like a punch I wasn't bracing for. My throat tightens. I stare at her and try to find some hint that she doesn't mean it. But if it's there, she's hiding it well.

  "So that's what I was to you? A mistake?"

  "I was lonely," she says after a pause. "You were there. You paid attention to me. That's all it was."

  "Dani, come on. That's not true and you know it. You're scared. I get that. But don't rewrite the whole thing like it didn't mean anything. You said you felt something. You looked me in the eye and said it. This, whatever this is, it mattered to me. And I thought it mattered to you too."

  She swallows hard but stays silent. That silence says enough.

  "Alright," I say finally. My voice is tight. "If that's how you want it. You've got a month to find someone else to watch KK."

  Dani's head snaps up. "Wait, what? Taytum..."

  "No. You made yourself very clear. So I'm making myself clear now. I'm done."

  I didn't wait for Dani to say anything else. I turned and walked away, the weight of her silence chasing me down the steps.

  That conversation has been running through my head on a loop ever since. Every word. Every pause. Every time she couldn't look at me. It's like a film that won't stop playing no matter what I do.

  I didn't sleep last night. I couldn't. I laid in bed for hours just staring at the ceiling. Around five this morning, I gave up, went to the home gym, and stayed down there for three hours pushing myself through sets I barely even tracked. After that, I showered, locked myself in my room, and haven't come out since.

  My moms let me know dinner was ready but I couldn't even eat. I didn't want anything. They knew something was wrong but realized I didn't want to talk about it and thankfully they didn't push.

  Now it's Saturday night, and I'm still stuck in my own head. Normally I'd stay in, maybe read, maybe work out more or maybe just crash. I don't usually go out, not for drinks, not to meet people, not to forget... but tonight, I need the noise. I need something to drown this out.

  Around 7 I get dressed and head to Oak Hills Tavern. It's far enough from the busy downtown scene, not as packed as Riverwalk would be. I had gone there once before, just bars are not really my thing. Just people having food, drinks, maybe listening to some live music. That's what I need, just enough distraction. Just to get my mind off of Dani, even if just for an hour or two.

  I pull into the lot and take a moment to breathe before going in. It's not empty, but not loud either. A good mix of background chatter and a mellow band playing in the corner.

  I walk to the bar and take a seat toward the end. There's space, nobody else at that end. That's all I really wanted.

  "What can I get ya?" the bartender asks as I settle in.

  "Double margarita. And a menu."

  He slides me one and gives a knowing nod. "One of those nights. Got it. I'll be right back with your drink."

  I skim the menu but I'm not really hungry. Still, I land on the BBQ pork quesadilla. Comfort food. That'll work.

  The bartender returns with my drink and I give my order. He takes the menu and disappears again.

  I take a long sip, two, actually, and let the tequila do its job. The band's playing something bluesy. Not bad. I glance around. There's about a dozen people scattered at tables, a few at the bar. Low energy. Easy to blend in.

  That's when I hear her.

  "Rough day?"

  I turn to see a young woman, brunette, maybe mid 20s, highlighted hair and confidence in her smile, leaning on the bar just a few feet away, just watching me.

  "Something like that," I say, not fully turning.

  She doesn't leave. Just shifts closer and takes the stool next to mine without asking.

  "I'm Natalie," she says. "I saw you from my table. You've got this whole brooding thing going on, and I figured I'd come over before your frown starts breaking glasses."

  I let out a quiet laugh through my nose. It's not funny but the effort's appreciated.

  "Sorry to be blunt," she adds, "but you're too damn good-looking to be sitting here stewing in silence and looking all miserable. Want to talk about it? I'm a stranger, sure, but I've got a good ear. And decent advice, depending on the topic."

  I glance over at her. She's bold. Confident. Trying, at least.

  "Appreciate the offer," I say. "But I don't think I'm great company tonight. Your friends are probably missing you."

  She seems to ignore the last thing I said. "That's the best time to talk to strangers," she says with a half-smile. "No expectations, no filters. Just honesty. It's not like you will probably ever see me again."

  I look down at my drink again, lift it and take another long drink. I don't want to open up. But sitting here stewing in it isn't helping either.