The Upside of Letting Go Read online

  Nacole Stayton

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Author’s Notes

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  A Glimpse at Distractions

  To my beautiful baby sister, Chelsea.

  Despite the obstacles that life has thrown your way, you have amazed me with your story of triumph. I am proud of the woman and mother you have become.

  Life is a blessing, enjoy the ride.

  I love you, always.

  It was roughly one thousand miles from New Jersey to Alabama, and I felt every stinking inch of them. The heavy duty tires wore thin as I crossed from one state to another. The endless hours spent thinking were only a painful reminder of why I was doing this. The never-ending gas tank refills and snoring of my traveling acquaintances simply re-enforced my reasons for fleeing. There was an upside to this hell on wheels, and I hoped it was coming with the dawn upon the horizon.

  Finally stumbling off the bus, I have the only items to my name stuffed in a duffle bag slung over my shoulder. My hair is a mess from sleeping sitting up for the past week and the only shower I have had a chance to take was at a truck stop more than five hundred miles ago. I know I should be at least a little grumpy or irritable having spent the past week on a bus, but I feel like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders as I take my first step off of the blue and white Greyhound that has been my temporary home. Staring at the huge campus in front of me, I take the plunge head first, praying for a fresh start. In a place where no one knows me as the girl with no family and issues not even the best therapist in the world can help. A place where people merely see me and what I offer, not my horrid past that lingers over me like a black cloud I can’t seem to shake.

  Fighting my way through the crowd of students all dressed in Alabama gear from head to toe, I feel a little out of place. Knowing freshmen orientation is going on today calms my nerves. At least there are other newbies here. Carrying my duffle and campus map, I find my way to the Student Activities Center. I walk through the revolving doors and approach an enormous wooden desk. I look around, wondering if I am in the right place, when an older lady interrupts my stupor.

  “Can I help you?” asks the short, grey-haired woman wearing an alumni polo who is sitting alone behind the desk looking at me through thick, black-rimmed glasses.

  Good, I’m in the right place. “Yes, my name is Haley Martin, transfer student from Jersey. I’m here to check in.” She presents me with a pamphlet of campus information, a copy of my semester schedule and a set of keys attached to a whistle keychain. I head out of the office, palms sticky with sweat from my anxiety. Not paying attention, I run straight into a hard chest. My eyes slowly take in the man standing in front of me.

  “Excuse me miss,” the gorgeous sandy blonde-haired, blue-eyed gift from God says as he brushes by me without a second glance.

  If all of the men in this town look like him, I am going to love it here. I stifle a groan of acceptance under my breath since the hottie with the chiseled jawline just rendered me speechless. I shake my head allowing the boy-crazed thoughts to wonder somewhere else as my feet start to move forward following the map to my new house. Well, dorm room is more fitting, but it would become my safe haven and the only home I would have.

  “You’re a sophomore now, only three full years left,” I repeat to myself, trying to calm my nerves. I’ll be done with my nursing degree and hopefully find peace with my life, tightening up the loose knots where the past is lingering and throwing away the awful memories I harbor in my mind. I have to keep hope that maybe one day, in the not so distant future, that I’ll be able to simply think about my awful past and it won’t make my stomach churn. Hope is all I have creating my pathway for this new journey.

  Walking up the concrete steps to my dorm, I hear blaring music coming from the street. I turn around and see a blonde haired chick sucking face with what appears to be her Ken doll. Lovely. I turn into my building, pressing the delete button in my brain, trying eagerly to erase the images of the rated R movie happening in plain sight. The first thing I notice as I walk into the dorm room was a musty smell. Coming from a Northern state I didn’t have to deal with constant humidity. Newsflash: I am now a permanent resident of Alabama. Bring on the air fresheners and dehumidifiers! The second thing I notice is that my roommate isn’t here yet. At least I’m lucky enough to pick which bed I want. I start unpacking my limited supply of clothes and hair products when the blonde from the street barges through the door.

  “Ohmigod, you’re here!” she screams in a voice that calls out ‘I’m a pageant princess!’ How original. Then she rushes over and bear hugs me. It’s true; there is such a thing as a southern belle. Coming from Jersey, southern hospitality is like a foreign language. People don’t hug you, especially not strangers. It’s like a hidden law or something.

  “Ugh, I can’t breathe,” I mutter to the petite blonde.

  “Oh darlin’, I’m sorry,” she says taking a step back. Looking me up and down, it’s clear she can tell I’m not from her neck of the woods. Today I’m sporting tight holey jeans, a black Def Leppard T-shirt that is riding up my side, exposing my ivory skin, and my lucky pink Converse. My hair is still a hot mess from being on the bus and is piled up on my head in a not-so-presentable bun with a black leather headband. I clear my throat because it’s apparent she is staring.

  “Where are you from?” the blonde asks with a pained expression on her face.

  “Jersey,” I reply in a hasty tone.

  “Well that was totally rude of me. I do apologize. My name is Lucy, Lucy Masterson.”

  The blonde I now know as Lucy extends her hand to me. Reaching mine to meet hers I say, “I’m Haley Martin.”

  “So are you a freshman?” she asks so eagerly I feel like I might throw-up from her keenness.

  “Nope. I’m a sophomore transferring from Montclair State University. I just got into town today.” I turn around and resume organizing my products on the small nightstand beside my bed.

  “Whew, you scared me there for a minute girl. I thought they messed up my rooming and I was stuck with a freshman. I had this annoying roommate last year, long story short she got knocked up and her momma and daddy made her transfer to another town so she didn’t reflect poorly on them. I guess they’re big into funding here and Lord knows your reputation is everything in this place,” Lucy admits as she moves her massive suitcase onto the empty bed.

  I notice it is some fancy name brand. I could tell by the embroidered “C” written all over the luggage. Feeling slightly embarrassed, I kick my worn duffle bag under my bed before she notices. I have never been big with material things and name brands. Even now, when I can afford the stuff, it just seems like a waste of money if you ask me.

  “I can tell we’re going to get along great!” Lucy screeches as she picks up my bottle of Big Head hair spray. Southern girls love volume. I chuckle and try to be open-minded, reminding myself to not automatically categorize her as that “type” of girl. “Well go on; finish putting your stuff away. There was a Slip ‘N Slide going on down the street that I passed on my way in. Actually, I don’t really feel like unpack
ing, let’s change and see what kind of damage we can get into.”

  I should have known her blonde hair, petite build, and pink lip gloss was a front. This girl is a partier and, she just found the way to my heart. She has now moved to the “friend” category.

  I can remember the summer before my senior year in high school started. I was a varsity cheerleader, dating the quarterback of the football team. Life appeared perfect, but doesn’t everything on the outside? You could say I was a master at hiding emotions, but it only got worse with every passing weekend, when I would cover the pain that consumed my heart with alcohol and drugs. Jude never let me get too out of hand. Unlike me, he knew my limits and understood I was dealing with things in my own way. He was by my side regardless, even if it meant holding my hair while I puked up the sorrow I drowned out with booze.

  Lucy and I walk a few blocks to a street with fraternity houses lined up side by side. Banners are hanging on almost every house with the name of the fraternity printed boldly on them. It’s around eight o’clock from the time on my watch, and the street lights are just turning on. The sun has set, but the air is still thick and humid. I wonder if the humidity ever goes away?

  “Now what’s a fella gotta do to hang out with you fine ladies tonight?” a guy walking a few feet behind us slurs.

  I don’t take lightly to guys hitting on me. Especially where I’m from, muggings are a daily occurrence on the news. “Nothing douchebag, keep moving. Preferably away from us,” I mouthed off to the guy behind us without even turning around. I glance over to Lucy who looks impressed as she winks at me.

  We make our way to the giant Slip ‘N Slide, and as promised, people are everywhere. Girls in bikinis so small it would make your grandma blush, and guys running around like demented maniacs with beer bong hats on. Shuffling through the mass of people is a big enough task without constantly pushing male-groping hands off of us every five seconds. I look over at Lucy who doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. I guess when you’re the picture perfect image of what a woman should look like it’s easy to be admired. Not that I’m insecure. Hell, I’ve had my fair share of admirers in the past. I know I’m attractive, but looking at Lucy I can see why it looks like we have the entire football team following us around like a pack of lost puppies. She smiles and waves politely to her fans, like this is normal behavior to which she has grown accustomed.

  As we reach our destination, Lucy stops in the middle of the sidewalk and takes off up a steep driveway like a bat out of hell. Wherever she is headed it is clear she is on a mission.

  “Lucy! Stop!” I shout as I run after her, weaving in and out of the crowd.

  Standing in front of a giant flag that reads some Greek letter I can't even pronounce, I see her mission clear as day; beer in one hand, slut in the other. Then I see something I for sure thought I’d never see from Mrs. Prim and Proper. She grabs a fist full of the girl’s long, wavy brown locks and throws her to the ground. Lucy eyes the girl, tempting her to move, but she remains still lying in shock. Lucy stands back up and thrusts her hands in Ken’s face and then slaps him so hard I can feel my hand sting. Before I even get to see how he reacts, another girl- I can only assume is the slut’s friend- jumps on my back.

  “What the hell?” I yelp as the girl starts pulling my hair.

  I’m wrestling around with the hood rat, trying to get her talons off of me, when suddenly she is mysteriously lifted off of my back and is standing a few feet away, and I’m standing face to face with the blue-eyed God from the admin office I saw earlier today. Once again I’m speechless. Our eyes lock, and I feel something I haven’t felt in a very long time: lust.

  I don’t have time to deliberate my sudden foreign feeling because the sound of cop sirens break the spell his eyes have over me. My body becomes airborne as he hurls me over his shoulder and runs into a house. He locks the door behind us, rushing to draw the shades in the living room, where I’m standing flabbergasted.

  “I can hold my own, ya know? I could have beaten the crap out of that skank!” I holler at the handsome stranger before I notice Lucy and Ken making out like horny high school freshmen on the couch. I clear my throat, shocked at the scene in front of me. “I just got into a fight my first night here with a lunatic, and here you are frolicking on the sofa with Mr. Slut himself!” I yell, unable to bite my tongue. The look on her face is a mixture of anger and embarrassment. I sit down on the edge of a chair and put my hands on my head. What the hell? How did they know the guy standing in front of me, and why did he grab me of all people? This is a great way to fly under the radar.

  Lucy and Ken get up and fumble into an open door right off the living room without a word. A few minutes pass before I realize I’m sitting in a stranger’s house all alone. Then the blue-eyed stud walks around the corner, from what I assume is a kitchen, because he hands me a beer.

  “You’re probably going to be here a while.” He turns on the TV, sets the remote on the stand next to me then walks down a long, dark hallway.

  When I hear his door click I stand up and glance around the room. Oh God, am I in a frat house? Not a typical grungy one; it’s actually pretty clean and smells of fresh linens. I wonder if they have a maid. I make my way to the kitchen and place the beer on the top shelf. No way in hell I’m getting trashed considering the drama I’ve already been in tonight. When I turn around, the stranger I keep running into is standing behind me. His hands are gripping the counter. I’m not sure why he seems tense, but he is kind of intimidating, and I don’t normally get intimidated easily. Well, not since I’ve been flying solo for the past few years. Being a young adult alone in the city, I learned pretty quickly to hold my own.

  “You don’t want that?” he asks, breaking the silence. His words drip off of his lips with a sexy southern twang.

  “Nope. I think I’m going to head out. While this party has been nothing but a blast, I’m pretty tired from moving all day.” I turn to head out of the kitchen, away from the man who is looking at me with such intensity my body temperature actually feels like it is rising. He grabs my wrist as I try to breeze by unnoticed. I don’t have to turn around because his mouth is hovering right above my ear. I can feel his breath on my neck blowing the little hairs with the warmth oozing from his lips.

  “Kevin said Luce is staying the night. You’re welcome to have my room. The door locks, and I will be on the couch out here if you need anything. Or I can take you back to your dorm.” Wow, and to think I thought chivalry was dead.

  “I’ll take a ride,” I whisper, praying that he can’t feel my heart beating violently since my body is backed up against his chest. He is just a guy. Yes, he is completely and utterly the most handsome man on the planet, but he is just a guy. Do not let your guard down.

  “You staying or going?” He points his thumb backwards towards the door while raising one eyebrow.

  Shit. He definitely noticed my hesitation. Captain obvious.

  “Going. Definitely going,” I reply quickly, eager to get away from him and stop making myself look like a damn fool.

  “Come on then. I don’t have all night.” He says a little more aggressively, like a father scolding his child.

  I follow his lead towards a side door in the kitchen leading out of the house. There are less people outside, but you can tell this party isn’t nearly over. He places his hand on the small of my back guiding me towards a gigantic garage in the back, and holy hell when he opens the door, if it isn’t Heaven on earth.

  “Is that…a ’69 SS Chevelle?” I stammer.

  I stare with my mouth hung open in shock waiting for his reply. If my dad and I shared anything, it was a love for older cars. We used to go to vintage car shows on the weekends, just the two of us, before his disease got so bad he nearly forgot who I was.

  “I’m impressed Haley,” he nods his head as a small smirk eases its way onto the corner of his lips.

  The way my name rolls off his tongue makes every hair on my body rise, but I keep my compo
sure and remain looking at the car in front of me.

  “I was going to take the bike since the weather is decent tonight, but if you’d rather the car…” he motions to the passenger side door.

  “The bike?” I ask, unable to hide my enthusiasm.

  “Yeah, the bike.” He points to a black and chrome motorcycle.

  I can hardly contain my anticipation. I thought people in Alabama were still riding around in buggies pulled by horses. He tosses me a silver helmet.

  “No thanks.” I toss it back to the bench I saw him grab it from.

  “Safety first, Hale,” he says, sounding years older than his face portrays.

  I stare at him dumbstruck again. Why did he call me Hale? No one, and I mean no one, calls me Hale anymore. Not like he knows why, but still. First he has no right, and secondly how did he know my name to start with? What’s with the safety first spiel; is he a hall monitor too? “How did you know my name?” I ask once I regain my composure. He looks puzzled, like I should know the answer to that, which I obviously don’t. I’m standing with my arms across my chest, with a stranger, about to get on a two-wheeled death trap with him without a helmet. Hell yes I want to know how he knows my name.

  “Lucy told me to grab you as they ran inside the house when we heard the sirens, and I work in the admin office part time,” he rambles off his reasons justifying how he knows of me.

  That’s why I ran into him this morning. He wasn’t just a student dropping by to pick up his schedule, he was working, and then the realization from his words hit me. He’s read my file. He knows. No one knew. At least if I could help it and I’ve kept it that way for so long. I’ve planned three funerals and I’ve kept my secret until now. I’ve got to get away from here. I look out into the driveway full of people oblivious to us in the garage. I glance over my shoulder, and without hesitation I take off out of the garage door.

  I run by masses of people, and I don’t quit until I hear the sound of a throttle behind me. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” I know it is the nameless stranger approaching. He must think I am a freaking basket case taking off down the damn street. Steadying myself on a bench by the sidewalk, I stoop down hoping he doesn’t see me. You’re a coward. He probably has no idea who you are or what you’re hiding. I see one headlight, and I know it’s him. How are you going to explain this one Hale?