12/11/16

MY HAND SHAKES ever so slightly as I hold my sleek phone in my hand.

I take a deep breath as my eyes glance at the closed door praying Chase doesn't walk in on me. I press my best friend's name and lift the phone to my ear. A piece of me is broken and I feel more lost then I have in a long time, so I can't keep lying. I have to step up. I have to share my life with those who love me. I have to hold on to what ties me to this life.

The phone rings a few times before she finally picks up.

"Hayley!" she cheers excitingly. Grayson never used to be this chipper, but being in a healthy relationship sure can turn a person. "I wasn't expecting your call."

"Is this okay?" I question. "Are you busy?" I test slowly. A part of me wishing she is so I don't have to admit my many faults.

"Never busy for you," she sings and I can already picture her large grin coating her face.

A weak smile reaches my lips but doesn't reach my eyes, because I know she will be disappointed. Disappointed in me and my actions that are slowly making me fall apart piece by piece.

"Hayley," she says my name slowly. "You're quiet," she states next. Without even seeing me she already knows I'm off, she knows the truth. She knows me, even when I try to hide myself from her. "Is everything okay?"

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. "No," I answer truthfully. "Everything is not okay."

"Hayley," she breathes her voice filled with uncertainty. "What's happened?"

"I don't even know here to start," I tell her honestly as my teeth begin to naw on my bottom lip.

"Begin whenever is easiest," she says simply because she is more understanding of me then I am with myself at times. She always is because she's my best friend and my number one supporter.

I open my mouth to tell her about Clayton and my mixed up feelings for him. How he consumes my every thought, and when he's around I feel as if I'm burning. That he is the sun and I don't want to get too close because I know I'll get burned, but I can't stop myself from moving closer. From wanting more. It's illogical, and heart racing, and everything I shouldn't need but it's all I want. Like the geological force that makes the waves kiss the shore, I crave Clayton Hasting.

But something stops me, holds me back, and keeps me from revealing a part of me still to my best friend. I don't know what it is about him that makes me want to hoard every moment I have with him and keep it for myself and no one else, but I do.

"I'm pretending to be Chase's girlfriend," I state truthfully. The words fumble out of my lips before I even realize what I'm saying. I want to tell her about Clayton, but I don't. I tell her about my fake relationship instead.

"Hayley," she chides slowly. "Why?" she questions next.

I shrug even though I know she can't see me. "He asked me to," I respond lamely knowing it won't be a good enough reason for Grayson.

"But why?" she asks not understanding the reasoning behind Chase and mine's actions. "He's gone home every other break without someone by his side and it's never been a big deal," she points out. "Why now?"

My left hand runs through my dark hair, lightly pulling on the ends hating the anxiety that is running though me. "His mom I guess has been making comments and he didn't want them again," I explain. "He wanted his last winter break to be fun before figuring everything out and coming out to his family."

"Hayley—"

"Gray, he's still so confused!" I point out hating the way I raise my voice at my best friend.

"You don't think I know that Hayley!" she exclaims. "He's my friend too, and I can see how confused he is, but he's also afraid to come to terms with himself and our job isn't to be his enabler and continue to live a lie."

Her words stop me.

Because they are true. Because they piss me off. Because of so many reasons.

But also because I know I don't push Chase to figure his life out, because that means I would have to figure my own out. Him being lost makes me feel less lost in my own mess of a world. It's selfish, I'm selfish, and I'm using my own best friend instead of helping him come to an acceptance of himself.

"Hayley...." Grayson trails hesitantly.

Tears sting my eyes at her severe, but true words. But I'm not ready to accept my truth, and if I can't deal with my own then how I can help my friend with his own lies.

I realize I'm not splitting at the seams anymore. I'm about to burst.

"Hay—"

"No," I cut off my best friend. "I think I need to go," I voice weakly swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Hayley—"

"Grayson," I state firmly. "I know what I'm doing isn't the smartest thing. But I'm also being there for my friend, which is more then I can say for you. I know you're happy with Cale, but you're also never around to realize Chase isn't the only one dealing with things Grayson. I also can't accept parts of my life, and I feel alone. And—"

"Ohmygosh Hayley," Grayson starts now cutting off my broken words. I can tell she's crying by the sobs that echo through her words. "I'm sorry, I really am. But what's going on? Please, talk to me," she begs.

I squeeze my eyes shut hating the urge to push all my feelings away and shut out my best friend. Fear rises in me at the idea of sharing this part of my life with anybody but I know that this is Grayson. My best friend, my confidant, and yet here I am still scared to open up about this. To open up about a part of me I've locked away for so many years.

"I'm sorry I said you're not a good friend, because you're amazing and my best friend Gray. You didn't deserve to have those things said to you," I apologize wholeheartedly realizing how harsh I had come across. Even when Grayson and I annoyed each other we never spoke to each other that way, and I regretted the words the moment they fell from my lips.

"No, you're right to an extent Hayley. But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt. I haven't been around as much as I could've, which means I do miss things. But I know there is a reason why you don't talk about your past and I've never pushed that on you but," she pauses as she sniffs. "I am always here for you."

A single salty tear slides down my cheek, and I quickly wipe it away hating the wave of emotions that are crashing upon me like a wild storm filled sea.

"My father was murdered," I breathe and as the words fall off my tongue tears fall from my eyes openly. But even more then that, it's easier to breathe. The weight on my chest lessens as I finally reveal apart of me to someone who loves me for me.

A gasp flies from Grayson's lips. "I...I don't even know what to say or how to respond," she admits. "Hayley, I am so sorry."

Sniffles pull through me as my body shakes slightly not only from the sobs, but also from opening up. I'm not used to it, and the anxiety I had before is now only heightened.

"I need to go," I say out of nowhere.

"No, Hayley let's talk some more," she argues trying to stop me from pulling away.

I shake my head. "I have to. I'm glad I told you Gray, but this was a lot and I need some space," I try and explain as the rush of emotions run through my veins making my heart beat so hard it hurts my chest.

"Okay," she concedes. "I'm sorry, and don't forget I'm always here. No matter what, I'm here," she tells me.

I run my hand over my damp face trying to get ahold of my emotions. I never let them run this wild and I feel out of control and shaky.

"Thanks," I murmur. "Bye," I whisper but I don't let my best friend respond before I hang up.

I let my body fall back onto the plush bed and stare up at the ceiling. Images of my loving father flicker through my mind, and I focus on that. Not on his death, or on my mother, or even on Chase or Clayton.

My eyes fall slowly and I focus on the ocean. I picture the rolling sea, and crashing waves. The soft sand, and salty air. I focus on the one thing that steadies and calms me at the same time.

The one thing my father gave me, and no one can take away or tarnish.

So I set my mind on that and nothing else.

* * * * *

"Can you grab the eggs?" Mrs. Hasting asks me as she stands in front of the kitchen island. She's mixing away clad in a Christmas themed apron that's already covered in flour.

"Of course," I smile as I open the enormous fridge and hand over the cartoon of large eggs.

I napped for a few hours after the phone call with Grayson. I felt completely drained emotionally after the conversation with her. I hadn't spoken aloud about my father in years, and to finally do so honestly made me feel light in a way as my chest didn't feel as burdened. But also so much heavier because telling people involved further questions into my life and my relationships with my family. Or lack thereof.

But now I'm in the kitchen, and focusing on being with the Hasting family. Because they are whole and humble and kind and everything I wish I had, but don't.

Mrs. Hasting is baking cookies and cakes for the holiday season and asked if I wanted to help. Of course I accepted, and now I'm downstairs with her helping her bake the sweet goodies. Well I'm more assisting, as I'm not much of a baker or anything to do with cooking in general.

Chase's mother quickly mixes together the dry and wet ingredients, and then we both start on the chocolate. She explained how these are her signature chocolate chip cookies, with three types of chocolate in them and then sprinkled with sea salt for that perfect mixture of sweet and salty.

I start chopping, carefully, at the hard blocks of semi sweet chocolate, while Mrs. Hasting begins to shred the bitter dark chocolate.

"Chase stop it!" she calls out and my head instantly snaps up to see him dip his pointer finger into the dough.

I can't help but giggle. We've eaten so much pre-made cookie dough at this point it's probably slowly running through our veins. It's our weakness, well that and coffee for me.

"What?" he asks innocently. "It's good," he shrugs as if that's a good enough reason.

I can't help but smile at my friend. He's so outgoing and personable, but he doesn't have to try like I do. It's natural for him to always have a smile on his face and run around bubbling with energy.

"You want some Hayley?" he asks me as he dips his finger back in the bowl so a large chuck on dough is now sitting on his finger.

I shake my head. "Stop messing with the dough, your mother's worked hard on it," I tell him.

Mrs. Hasting places a hand on my shoulder stopping my chopping movements. A kind smile touches her perfectly aged face. "No Hayley, we've worked hard on it," she emphasizes correcting me. Then she turns her motherly gaze on her youngest son, "Now stop eating the dough young man," she chastises.

I nod at her as she throws me a wink before she returns back to her growing pile of shredded chocolate shavings. Heat touches my shoulder at the small moment and climbs until I can feel tears threaten to well up in my green eyes. Not because I'm sad, but because I haven't had anything close to a family in such a long time that that small moment made me realize how much I miss having one.

Mrs. Hasting is so beyond amazing. I watch her interact with her children, no matter how grown they are and I can see how much she cares for them. How they are truly the things in her life that mean the most to her, true unconditional love.

Pain strikes my chest slightly, and I lower my eyes hating the way my thoughts then slide to my own mother. How I have no semblance of a relationship with her anymore because of her actions. Because of what she caused, even though a part of me knows I shouldn't blame her. I still do. And especially with how she handled everything after.

With a small swallow and shake of my head so my hair falls behind my shoulders. I push all the thoughts and emotions that already got the best of me today far, far away.

My eyes flicker up to see Chase and his brother Clayton sitting on the couch with their father shouting over a college football game.

"You guys aren't Seminoles fans are you?" I ask as I grab my pile of chocolate and toss it in the glass bowl in front of me.

Three heads snap my way immediately.

"Hell no!"

"Never!"

"FSU sucks!"

"Hayley you know better," Chase's voice cuts through all the shouting I started.

I shrug as I raise my hands defensively. "Just making sure," I tell them with my hands still in the air. "Because you're right they do suck," I smirk. My father had a best friend who went to FSU, and from a young age he instilled in me the hatred for that college team. Honestly no reason, as I like football but I'm not a die-hard fan. But I know till the day I die I will hate that team just because my father did.

"What team do you root for?" Mr. Hasting asks me.

"Well I'm a northerner so no SEC for me, but my parents are huge Indiana fans as we are from there," I tell them.

"But what about you?" Clayton asks me next.

My eyes shoot to meet his surprised he even asked me anything as he's been avoiding me lately. A small tentative smile touches me lips at his disheveled hair, and handsome face.

"OSU all day," I tell him genuinely.

"Oklahoma State?" Chase questions.

I roll my eyes. "I just said I'm a northerner dumb dumb," I tease. He sticks his tongue out at me in return. "Ohio State," I clarify for the southerners.

"I can respect that," Mr. Hasting says with a nod. "I also love that you hate FSU," he adds as he points at me with a smile.

He turns to Chase and nudges him with his elbow and says, "You got a good one son, don't let her go."

A faint blush coats my cheeks at his words. I know Chase and mine's relationship is fake, but that doesn't stop the part of me that still wants his parents approval. I want them to like me, to want me around, because maybe that will make everything easier when he tells them the truth.

Mrs. Hasting takes our bowls of chocolate and begins to mix that thick dough with the heaps of sweet goodness.

I glance up again at Chase and return the smile he's giving me. He's letting me know that I did well. I know his father's approval is number on in his eyes, something we definitely share. But my eyes then shift and take in Clayton staring directly at me as well.

His eyes are void of emotion, his jaw locked, and I can see how tense he is as he continues to stare at me. He then casts his eyes to his brother who is animatedly watching the game with his father and I can see the sadness that takes over his frame as he sinks into the leather couch.

I refocus on the dough in front of me and follow Mrs. Hasting's movements as she rolls them in equal sized balls.

My hands mimic her as my body flushes with shame.

Clayton is feeling guilty because of what happened between us, because he believes I'm dating and completely in love with his brother. And he touched me, kissed my skin, and made me feel things I never have before.

In his head he betrayed his brother, and I know that's eating away at him.

I lower my head and know I have to find a way to ease his guilt, and then stay far, far away.