Machine by Normandie Alleman
25
Dynassy
Back in my room, I stared down at the phone and part of me wanted to text Bridger back. I wanted to tell him that it was okay, and that everything was going to be fine.
But I couldn’t. Because I knew my mother was right.
Associating myself with Bridger Thompson now was career suicide. Not only for me, but also for my sister and brother. I thought Nick’s career could probably go on unscathed. He was well known and valued for his talent and his skills on the basketball court. But my younger brother and sister? Lucinda was right. They were looked upon as role models for the younger generation. It might not be fair, but heavy was that head that wore the crown, and Ivy and Leo were the crowned prince and princess of pop music. I could take the hit on my own career, but I didn’t see how I could do the same thing to my brother and sister.
It killed me to think of never being with Bridger again, and my mind went back to the first day we met. I can still see him coming out of the back of that auto shop and remember how my heart started to beat a little faster once he entered the room.
Then when I met him at the event for injured vets. He’d been so different from the other men I knew. He exhibited such quiet confidence, and I remembered how much I wanted him then when he left me on my doorstep. I wanted him even more now. How ironic that this time it was me leaving him, especially when my heart yearned to be next to him again. Longed to hold him, to touch him.
But I was going to have to get over that. Family always had to come first. That was something I’d learned at a very young age. When my father died and it felt like the world was coming to an end, I knew that family was all you had. People come and go, even people in your own family, but the members of your family who are left—those are the people you owe your loyalty to.
I was lucky enough to have a mother, brothers, and a sister, and we all looked out for each other. We were a closely knit bunch and that would never change. My loyalty had to be to the Barneses, and Bridger was just going to have to accept that.
I poured myself a vodka from the tiny bottle in the bar and chugged it down. Why did doing the right thing have to be so hard?
With slow, heavy fingers I texted Bridger.
I’m sorry but we need a break.
Immediately he texted back.
What kind of break? For how long?
My heart clenched, and at that moment I realized how incredibly douchey it was to break up with someone over text messages. But I honestly didn’t have the strength to do this in person, and it made me feel about one inch tall.
I texted back.
I don’t know but I can’t do this anymore.
Then my phone was ringing. Bridger of course.
Taking a deep breath, I clicked the red button not to accept, and then, like the coward that I was, I turned my phone off. I took a sleeping pill and went to bed, my mind unable to stop thinking of all the things I’d never do with Bridger anymore, like hear the cute way he snored, or feel the ridges of his muscles. Finally, my head heavy on my tear-soaked pillow, I fell asleep.
