All Of Me

52

Paige would forever and a day be better at handling things than me. She was strong, and I was weak. Even if she hid most of her pain behind alcohol and drugs, and wha whatever else she was involved in, she still didn't melt into a puddle of emotions and then drown herself in it. Much like me.

The next morning, I woke up being licked in the nose by Socks. And while I wanted to stay in bed to cry, sink into a deep, dark depression and forsake all of my responsibilites, I couldn't shun classes for one more day. My professors could find where I lived.

So I rolled out of bed and rubbed my eyes. They were heavy, and puffy from crying, and looked as bad as they felt. I heaved a sigh and threw on some yoga pants, a sweatshirt, some Uggs, and a scarf that didn't match, and headed out the door. I didn't forget to mention my hair, I really didn't fix it. I didn't care. My mother didn't care about me, so why should I?

I'd always imagined my mother showing pictures of my children to her friends, editors, distant family, ect. Just like most moms do. But...she was slapping me and calling me a whore; no daughter of hers.

It were as if I could feel an actual object in my chest breaking in half.

Halfway to my second class, my phone rang. Without looking, I answered it. "Gorgeous girl," Tripp was smiling as he spoke the words, I could tell. My heart skipped several beats and I sucked in a sharp breath. "Hey," Really, Brooke? That's all you got?

"Are we still going to Uncle Todd's today and tomorrow?" Crap, I forgot.

"Tripp, I don't know..."

"Nope. No ma'am. You said yes. Quite eagerly if I remember correctly, so get your tail home. We're leaving at 4." He playfully scolded me and I laughed a little. "How's your face?" He asked more gently. "Its fine. My pride is more bruised than my face...I really thought she would believe me." I leaned against the wall outside class and sighed, attempting to release the bad vibes.

Tripp took a deep breath, and I could see him rubbing the back of his neck in my mind. I bit my lip and blushed when flashbacks of Saturday night came flooding back.

If you claim to be living a good, wholesome life, yet you've never been pushed against a kitchen counter by Tripp Sparks and kissed so deeply you felt you might drown; like you can't breathe fast enough to keep up, and your knees may buckle at any moment...you aren't living at all.

"I'm sorry Brookie." I took in a deep breath at the words and willed away the tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. I was so close to a cliff. One that if I fell off would send me running in a full-on sprint back home. To Texas.

We said our goodbyes, and I thought about the fact that I'd have to miss my last class in order to be back home by four. Oh well. Didn't want to see Clint anyway. I felt my chest tighten at the memory of the altercation between the two of them.

The day passed rather quickly, and I made the short drive home at three forty-five, intentionally giving myself time to get more presentable before Tripp arrived.

Actually, I just sat on the edge of the bed and cried.

Tripp's POV

What's taking her so long? I knocked again...then again. And finally, Paige opened the door in tears, and a wide, fake smile across her face. "Paige?" I asked cautiously, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Its okay. Girl stuff." She forced a laugh and stepped aside. I didn't buy it, but it wasn't my place to pry, so I gave her a weak smile and walked through to Brooke's bedroom.

I sighed and ran a frustrated hand through my hair that needed a trim when I saw her curled up in a ball on the bed, arms around her tummy, crying.

Best friend mode.

"Brooke, get it together." I walked to her closet and dragged out her suitcase.

She sat up and wiped her palms across both eyes, sucking in a deep, shaky breath. "I'm s-sorry." She said softly, out of breath. I left her suitcase open on the end of her bed and walked over to her, pulling her off the bed and into my arms. I tilted her head back, forcing her blue eyes to lock on my brown ones. "You've got to pull it together for Luke." I said sternly. A repeat of the other night and I would combust. Thinking something might have happened to him.

She finally nodded and I planted a soft kiss against her chapped lips. One bad kiss from Brooke is worth more to me than ten kisses from the hottest super model in the world.

Boy, do I have it bad.

She sat on the edge of her bed, collecting herself and watching me as I grabbed a couple pairs of jeans and two tshirts from her drawer, stuffing them into her bag.

"I can't." Her words stopped me in my tracks as I pulled undergarments from her chest of drawers. I turned to her, and she stared straight through me.

"Hey," I pointed at her, "Don't talk like that."

"Why not? What's left for me?" What is she talking about?

"Think about Luke, Brooke!" I didn't mean to raise my voice at her, but I was amazed at her words. She shook her head in frustration. "I mean here. In Georgia." She cried. It hit me like a car running into a concrete test wall. Just like the car, I could feel myself all but burst into pieces. She wants to go home.

I stuffed the things in my hands into her bag and zipped it up, carrying it out to the truck. I kicked the drivers side of the truck out of anger, and immediately regretted the large dent it left. Which frustrated me even more.

I walked back up the stairs to the apartment and found Brooke hugging Paige. "If you would tell me what's going on, I could help you." Brooke spoke softly, neither of them noticing I was standing at the door. Paige sucked in some sharp breaths and I realized she was sobbing. "N-no. It'll be over soon. I don't want you to worry." She wiped her eyes and smiled. Brooke heaved a sigh and shook her head. "I'll only be a few hours away. Call me if you need me. I'll be back in record time." She kissed Paige's forehead and Paige nodded. I wish I knew what they were talking about.

Brooke turned and smiled weakly when she saw me, "Ready." She walked past me out the door and Paige walked over, shutting the door and locking it behind us.

On the ride to Uncle Todd's, Brooke was silent. And an hour into the drive, she fell asleep.

Her blond hair was a mess around her shoulders, and her long lashes fluttered as she slept leaned against the window.

I could feel the tears brimming in my eyes when I thought about how badly she wanted to go home. I could see it in her eyes. What would I do? If that's what made her happy, I would let her go. She'd been through so much. Much more than she deserved. And even if it tore me apart, I would go to the ends of the earth to make sure Brooke was happy. Even if that didn't include me. I felt the stabbing pain in my chest at the thought, and glanced back and forth between Brooke and the road.

She might stay if you say you'd marry her. The thought invaded unwelcome, and I shook my head. I was in no position to marry her and give her and our son any kind of acceptable life. Love isn't always enough. I couldn't be selfish. Not to mention, the thought of it scared me witless.

I finally shut down my thoughts and listened to the sound of the tires on the highway, and Brooke's soft breathing. And no matter what happened, that sound would haunt me for the rest of my life.