Ripping Pages (2 page)

Sure, I crushed on pretty much every guy at school, but I was shy and a bit guarded, so I never made a move, and neither did they. James changed all that. James, with his olive skin, lean, muscular, sexy body, with abs
for days,
and that face. He was gorgeous. Not high school boy gorgeous, but Man gorgeous. He had jet-black hair that he rather spiked up just a tad, and kind, deep chocolate brown eyes, and don’t even get me started on those lips. He had full, kissable lips that I just wanted to bite all the time. And eventually, when we were dating, and it was appropriate, I did. A lot. Not having a boyfriend before to compare with didn’t stop me from realizing he had to be the perfect one. He was so sweet and attentive. Always making sure I was ok and not in need of anything. Knowing I had zero experience in the boyfriend area, he took his time with me, never rushing me. Letting me tell him when I was ready. Always taking care of me.

Despite my hesitance to get close to anyone, I couldn’t believe how fast and hard I fell for him. He was everything to me. We made so many plans, and I had so many hopes for our future together. He, like I, came from a damaged background. His parents had been killed in a car accident when he was just a child, and he and his brother were raised by the only family they had left, their grandmother on their mother's side. She brought them from New Jersey to live with her in Houston. As they grew up, James and his older brother, Jake, became estranged somehow. He never really told me much about him. He said he hadn’t seen him since the year before when their grandmother had passed away, and Jake had come down for the funeral. He didn’t say anymore. Just that they weren’t close and that he didn’t want to talk about it. So we didn’t.

We had been blissfully dating for about a year and a half when he started to become distant. He would go out and wouldn’t tell me where he was going or who he was with. It obviously became a major issue in our relationship. We fought a lot, and he would never explain himself. Eventually, I started to feel like we were falling apart. He stopped really communicating as he had before. Our relationship wasn’t what it once was, and I hated it. I felt my heart breaking every time I thought about it. He would be graduating soon with a degree in Architecture, and I still had another year and half to go. After a few weeks of his shady actions, I decided that I couldn’t do this anymore. He was going to talk to me, and we were going to make this work, or I was done. It hurt more than I could express. He was my best friend, my first love, my first everything. But there was no way in hell I was going to let a man treat me like that. My mother didn’t raise me that way, and I sure as hell wasn’t a weak girl.

I hadn’t spoken to him in a few days so I tried to call him and tell him that we needed to talk. I got his voicemail. I left a message and then I texted him. No response. I decided to go to his apartment. We had exchanged keys a few months after we started dating so if he wasn’t there then I could let myself in. I was going to let myself in now and snoop around to try to figure out what the hell was going on with him. When I pulled into the parking lot of his apartment, I didn’t see his Chevy in his usual spot. I got out and walked up to his door.

He was gone. He left without a reason. Without really saying goodbye. It took me several months to get out of my funk and move on with my life. My mother, my friends, everyone tried to make me feel better. Always trying to get me to go out and meet someone new. But I didn’t want anyone new. I wanted James. Even after he left me, I still wanted him to come back and I would forgive him it all. But he never did and I never heard a thing from him. I tried to look him up on Facebook but I couldn’t find anything. I even tried looking up his brother, Jake, but nothing.

It was early May when I decided. I had put everything on the back burner when I met James. It was ok because I thought we were on the same page and I thought we were going to start our family and our lives together, but life doesn’t always work out the way you planned. So with nothing holding me back, I made the decision to pursue my lifelong dream of starring on Broadway. It was a far-fetched dream considering I lived in Texas and had never even been out of state, but I knew I had the talent, and now seemed like a perfect time to try. I would make it work.

My cousin, whose family had moved to upstate New York when we were younger, and who I had kept in touch with more so now than ever thanks to social networking, had just moved to the city a few years ago. Tatum’s father was a wealthy man and, because of that, she had a very nice apartment in Greenwich Village, which was completely furnished. I had always heard of the Village, as obsessed with New York City as I was, but I had never been there. I had no clue what to expect. I was from the suburbs of Houston, and New York was enormous.

Once I had made my decision, I called Tatum and asked what she thought of me coming to New York. She was so excited at the prospect of us getting to bond again. She and I had been very close when we were younger, but when they moved away when I was ten and she twelve, it was hard to stay close. She had a two bedroom, and she said she never wanted a roommate because she wasn’t sure what kind of freaky, stalker,
Single White Female-esque
person would apply. I agreed that I would work and pay her something even though she said I didn’t need to because her parents paid for it, and her modeling career was taking off, but I insisted. It was set. I was so excited and ready. I'd had enough heartache because of James, and now it was time to move on to the next chapter. Mom, on the other hand, was a little leery. She had just moved to London with her new husband, Steve, the year before, and she had come back for a while to help me with the James heartbreak, but had returned to London just the month before. She had tried to get me to go with her across the pond, but I hadn’t wanted to leave school and James. She had been a single mother pretty much my whole life, since my real father had abandoned us when I was seven. I know it killed her to choose between her new life and me but I insisted that I was a big girl now and she needed to find her happiness. She was fine with me being in Houston alone, because I had James and my friends. She was happy I was pursuing my dream, but like any mother, she was scared of the horror stories she had heard about young girls alone in the big city.

“Tinley Marie, I just don’t think it’s smart or safe for you to just up and move to New York. You have no idea what it's like there,” She told me over our video chat one afternoon.

“Momma, I will be fine. I promise. Tatum has been there for almost two years, and she has friends and everything. She knows her way around. I have her to help me. She also gave me a number to a little cafe right down the street from the apartment that's hiring. I called them and have a phone interview with them tomorrow. I swear, I wouldn’t go if I didn’t think I could do this. Come on, Momma. Have some faith in me,” I pleaded.

“I have faith in you, baby. It's the city of New York I’m not so sure of,” she sighed.

“Momma, I will be fine. I need to do this. For me. Uncle Phil and Aunt Emma are only eight hours away, too.”

“Ok, baby, but do not go walkin' around alone. You tell Tatum the same, too. And remember, if you ever need anything, and I mean anything, promise me you will call me immediately,” she resigned.

“I promise, Momma.” I blew her a kiss and she blew me one back and smiled, but I could still see she was uneasy about this whole thing.

A few days later, with my car sold and most of my belongings placed in storage, I was on a plane headed for the Big Apple.

Today was the day that my dream was finally becoming a reality. After three months of working at Caffenation, the twenty-four hour coffee shop and cafe down the block from our apartment, I had finally saved a bit and was able to focus on auditions. Today was my first audition with a legitimate theater. I was nervous and excited. I was auditioning for a spot in the company. They held these auditions once a year for non-union members, and it was perfect timing. If you made the cut, they would cast the upcoming performances based on your audition. So if I wanted a good part, I had to bring it. I had to have two songs prepared, one upbeat, and one ballad, and bring my black and white headshot. I chose two songs I had performed in high school and both had been received very well back then. I was already so familiar with them that I knew them both like the back of my hand. I had been practicing over and over for weeks just for good measure, though. Which I was sure was making Tatum regret her decision of letting me move in.

I jumped out of bed and stretched my limbs. My audition was in three hours. That gave me an hour to shower and do my hair and makeup, and another hour and a half to rehearse. The great thing was the theater was just a short walk from the apartment, so if I got a part it would be so easy to commute to work at the cafe, to the theater, and to home.

I walked out of my bedroom right into the living room. It was small but cozy, and I loved it. I loved the exposed brick wall that the plush cream couch sat against. I especially loved the small but cozy old chair that I'd found at a sidewalk sale the month before for practically nothing. I reupholstered it thanks to instructions I had found on a pinning website, and I made it my own. Tatum said everything of hers was mine, but it was nice to contribute something no matter how small. It became my petite reading nook where I would get lost in romance novel after romance novel. Reading became my escape after James. I loved living in my book worlds where there was always a happy ending. Life wasn’t like that, as I had unfortunately learned, so I liked to drown everything and everyone out and live vicariously through the heroines in my novels.

In between the two windows on either side of the wall adjacent to the brick wall, was a pretty large plasma TV that Tatum's many boyfriends, if you could call them that, hogged to watch all their sports. I loved the small windows that looked out onto the street. I would find myself just staring out and daydreaming. We were on the third floor of the walk up, and even though it was a bitch to carry groceries up, I adored living here.

Tatum came sauntering out of her bedroom at the same time I reached the kitchen. I had only gotten to really know her again for a few months, but it was as if she had never left. Tatum was simply gorgeous. If I had seen her on the street with her tight, toned gorgeous body and equally gorgeous legs that went on for days and her caramel colored hair with her striking blue eyes, I would have instantly hated her. However, Tatum wasn’t what you would expect. She was the kindest person I had ever known. I can remember when we were younger, she always protected me like the big sister I never had. She wasn’t fake-nice. She was real, and I just loved her. Being related—my mother and her mother were sisters—her personality was a lot like mine. She was a sarcastic smartass, but unlike me, she wasn’t shy. She had the ideal childhood thus making her confident in areas I was not. She could have any man she wanted, and she did, sometimes more than one a day. She kept me laughing nonstop. She got the ‘good body genes’ on the Smith side of the family, and I got the genes on my father's side. Yet another thing to remind me of the man who abandoned me.

Tatum was literally the model version of me. We were both brunettes but her eyes were bright blue and mine were brown. Puppy dog eyes as my mother called them. Where Tatum was thin, toned, and tall, I was curvy, soft, and short. I wasn’t fat or unhealthy, by any means. My mother would always say I had a woman's body. My breasts were fairly large, and I had an ass to match and though I didn’t have a gut, my stomach was softer than I wanted it to be. No matter how much I worked out, I couldn’t fight my genes. James never seemed to mind. Although, I couldn’t help, but wonder if I had been better at anything, if it would have made him stay.

“What's up, whore?” I laughed as Tatum, so not a morning person, groaned.

“Ugh, where is the coffee?”

“I'm making it. So? How was... what was his name again?”

She giggled. “Um, I think it was Chris or Cash or Crap. Hell, I don’t know. He was all right, I guess. I kicked him out a few hours ago.”

This was another drastic difference between Tatum and me. She would meet these hot, random men and bring them home the same day as if it were nothing. Me, on the other hand, as lame as it sounded, could never be with a guy in that way unless we were in a committed relationship. I was an old-fashioned southern girl. You just didn’t do that. I had only been with James, and even then, it took a while for any kind of sex to come into play.

“Well, aren’t you the hostess with the mostess.”

“Shut it, Tin!” she laughed. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to get laid one of these days.”

“No thanks. I'll just live vicariously through you. It’s way less complicated.”

“It's only complicated if you let it be, Tin. You need to put yourself back out there.” I sighed and looked away. She always brought this up. Yes, I know it had been over seven months since James left, but I was still hopelessly in love with him. I had always heard it was hard to get over your first love, and I had to agree. I didn’t know if it was worse because of how he left me, or if everyone had this hard of a time moving on. I just missed him. I missed the easy way we flowed together. I missed how comfortable I was around him, and how open I was with him. I just missed...
him
. I honestly didn’t know if I could ever date someone else. Somehow, I let my guard down around James, and he had destroyed my trust in men. My father and now James. Why did all the men I loved leave me?