The Good Ones Go

"Cole," she calls out. Her voice is demanding as her left hand raises to push her wavy chestnut hair back from her face. She reaches over to nudge her boyfriend's body gently before leaving the room to frantically search for her keys. Once they are securely in her hand she returns to the room and raises her voice, "Cole, you gotta get up." She leans toward the mattress to elbow him with her right arm while putting her black heels on with her left.

"Later," he grunts up at her still half asleep. She can smell the alcohol on his breath from the single word he utters, and she knows he is still drunk from the night before.

She sighs begrudgingly at his response and pulls the maroon cotton sheets up to his waist. Leaning down she leaves a loving kiss on his forehead before closing the bedroom door behind her. She knows he's got responsibilities to take care off, but she doesn't want to upset him so she gives in and lets him sleep. On her way out, she makes sure to lock both locks on the apartment door and rushes off to the bus stop. In the back of her mind there is a nagging telling her to stay until he gets up, but she ignores it because she knows she can't afford to be late one more time this month, or she'd fail this rotation.

The half hour ride on the bus is solemn; two elderly women sitting next to her are having a conversation that she can't help but eavesdrop in to. Just before she's about to get off at her stop she hears one woman say to the other, "he's just not ready." Though their topic of conversation had nothing to do with her relationship, Chelsea couldn't keep the images of her boyfriend from clouding her vision as they rushed through her mind. As much as she wants to push them out of her head she can't: she knows he's not ready. Not ready for this - for her. She finds her will to bury the thoughts again as she approaches the office building, and the images dissipate to leave her with only one intention in that instant: getting to the urology office in five minutes.



Finally home after a long day of playing doctor, Chelsea jiggles the key in the lock and the heavy oak door swings open. She pulls off her heels and takes a second to rub her aching feet before she pulls her sleeves off and hangs up her coat, sighing as she looks around her mess of an apartment.

She eyes the bedroom door wearily and notices that it's still closed. She's scared to go in and find him sleeping - not at work - so she chooses not to go in at all and just trusts that he has his priorities straight. In the clothes she wore to work she begins to clean up the mess he left the night before. While picking up the empty pizza boxes from the ground she stops mid-motion when she hears a noise. At first she thinks it's in her head, but when she hears something resembling a grunt she swallows hard as a wave of fear washes over her, and her hands begin to shake. She takes a deep breath and refuses to jump to conclusions; if that were all she did, her relationship with him wouldn't have come this far.

She straightens out her dress, in attempt to recompose herself, and walks over to her bedroom door opening it gently. A gasp resounds through the room, but it isn’t Chelsea's because she isn't the one surprised. Her face gives no indication that she's upset; she is the definition of stoic in that moment. On the surface she manages to keep her poise, but inside she's crumbling, and thanking God that Colson had the decency to stop when he saw her.

"You need to leave. Now," Chelsea demands as she looks sternly at the young girl. She must be only 17. She is a pretty little thing with her whole life ahead of her, wasting her time on man that will take her then leave her. She knew that from her entire relationship with Cole, and she also knew that no matter how hard women tried, they could never be okay with just sex: there are always strings attached. Especially with girls so young. Shame.

"I'm sorry," the girl says to her. Her voice is high pitched and full of fear, but Chelsea shakes her head in disappointment at her.

"Stay in school and out of my house," Chelsea tells her; she's calm as she can be in a situation like this, and if she looked any older the teen might've thought she was the man's mother. She watches the tiny female frame pull her dress over her head before rushing toward the door. Once the girl leaves she locks the door after her, not bothering to acknowledge Colson.

Chelsea walks into her tiny bathroom and shuts the door, making sure to turn the lock before running the faucet and staring at herself in the dirty mirror. She is only 25. She's in graduate school. She's in shape. She isn't good enough. It doesn't make sense; then again, nothing ever made sense when it came to him. What was missing so badly for him in this relationship that he couldn’t stick to it? High school sweethearts - what a crock of shit. How much longer could she do this?

"Chels," she hears him begging from the other side of the door even over the running water. Letting out a sigh she splashes a little on her face, pats it dry, and closes her eyes for a second. She decides to act like an adult and unlock the door. He's surprised. He's surprised by her poise, by the lack of tears on her face, by the serene aura that is surrounding her as she walks towards him from the safety of the cozy room she is leaving behind.

"Baby," he starts without being entirely sure of what to expect from her - he was more used to tears.

Chelsea only response is a heavy-hearted sigh, "last chance, Colson." She has said those words so many times before, but this time they land a little different on his ears. Demanding. Threatening.

"I'm sorry," Cole lets out a sigh of his own, breathing life into his empty useless words.

"We'll see," she says with her back towards him and her arms crossed over the denim blue dress she wore. He makes looking him in the eyes nearly impossible.

"Why don't you go take a bath, and I'll take care of this?" he suggests. His face is full of false regret that she would see through if she dared to look at him.

She shakes her head as she continues to pick up all the dirty clothes scattered across the living room - she had to find some way to distract herself. "I don't have time for that right now," she tells him while wishing that he'd just leave her alone to grieve. She had already mastered the process, and every time it hurts a little less because every time he looses a little of her love.

Instead, Colson gets closer to her: his hands settle on her hips and pull her body into his. Chelsea stands up straight, tense, and sighs again, and Cole takes the opportunity to wrap his lanky arms around her waist while nestling his head on her shoulder. He can't see, but her face contorts in disgust at his touch knowing just minutes ago he was rubbing up on someone else - someone that wasn't her, a child.

"You should go wash up," she tells him eager to get some space. She tries to move away from his grasp, but he grinds into her, pulling her hips toward him even closer.

"Come with me," he whispers. His voice tickles her neck, but it does nothing for her like it usually would - he disgusts her.

"I don't have time. My study group is tonight," she tells him hinting that this needs to be rushed a little.

He nods defeated. "Okay," he says hesitantly; he's deep in thought now. "Well, why don't I finish cleaning up while you get ready for all of that, and then I'll go get us all some take out and maybe a movie for when they leave?" he suggests. He doesn't know how to make it better, but he'll keep trying until something works.

"Okay, but I'll clean up. You go shower and get the food," she instructs as she shimmies out of his grasp before he attempts to kiss her. She doesn't know he keeps insisting that she wash up. She wasn't the one with her dick inside a stranger! a minute ago But now with his hot touch lingering on her body she does feel dirty. She hates herself for almost wanting it back.

Chelsea gets back to her distraction, and once she's done cleaning (and Colson's left for the food), she heads to her bedroom. She wastes no time pulling the sheets off her bed and throwing them in a garbage bag - there is no point in washing them because she could never use them again without having the image resurface in her memory. She makes her bed and picks up all the things that the pair knocked over from the mahogany side tables. She pulls off her work clothes and finds a pair of leggings and a tank to wear. Finally, when she lets her body drop onto the sofa she begins to feel the exhaustion. Before she can doze off, though, her doorbell rings.

"Come in!" she shouts with a groan, and the door is flung open by four of her peers.

"We brought coffee," Jessica sings as she kicks her navy heels off before walking in, and Chelsea immediately springs up for her cup.

"Long day?" Adam inquires while pulling off his coat and hanging it up. He runs a hand through his slicked back hair as he gives her a weary smile.

"Don't even ask," she tells them as she re-directs her attention down at her out of season halloween socks.

"Oh, honey," Jessica fixes her flouncy white top before reaching over to rubs Chelsea's back; she knew that look on her friend's face, and it meant Colson cheated again.

"Oh, honey, what?" Jeff asks, curious. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up at the women before him.

"Oops, he did it again," Tobias answers which earns him a punch in the gut from his cousin Jess.

"Insensitive, much?" she yells at him, and Chelsea just shakes her head wishing they would just drop this.

"What? The guys been doing it for years, and she's still with him; I offer no sympathy," Toby replies rubbing his growling belly through his Green Lantern tee.

"Years?" Adam's eyebrows rise in question when he realizes what they're talking about. He straightens his plain white t-shirt as he walks over to the sofa giving Chelsea a look she hated getting.

"It's not a big deal. I really don't wanna think about that when we have an exam in three days, guys," she tells them hoping to wipe the pity from his face as she gets her bag from the desk in the corner. She throws herself onto the loveseat, and Adam eagerly grabs the spot next to her. Jessica rolls her eyes; she knows how bad Adam wants do her best friend, and she doesn't understand why all the bad boy go for her.

An hour later with her legs thrown over Adam's lap, Chelsea looks up at the opening door to see her high school sweetheart walk in with bags of food. It smells Chinese, and her stomach growls.

"You nerds hungry?" Colson jokes as he closes the door behind him and sets the food down on the coffee table. He listens to their jeering confirmations and goes to get plates from the kitchen. When he sets them down on the coffee table, out of the corner of his eye he notices how close Adam is to Chelsea. The unnerving feeling of jealousy fills his belly, but he shrugs it off - he isn't in any position to argue anyway.

"Thanks, Colson," Jessica coos flirtatiously as his lanky tattooed arm hands her the plate. For a moment it slips his mind that she's his girlfriend's best friend, and that his girlfriend's sitting right in front of him. He grins at the blonde and gives her a wink before digging in.

Adam rolls his forest green eyes at Colson's behavior and asks Chelsea what she'd like, prepping her plate for her. Chelsea takes it with a simple, "thanks." There is no flirting from her side of the couch: she is a one-man girl.

The group tries to quell the awkwardness through out the meal, but eventually the T-Mobile jingle breaks the flow of their conversation. Jessica answers her phone and rolls her eyes before turning to Tobias and asking him for a ride; she always had somewhere she needs to be.

"Alright then, I guess I'm coming too," Jeff stands up and grabs his bag. He needs a ride, and Adam stays on the opposite side of town.

"We're not done you asshole!" Adam protests with his butt firm on the loveseat.

"We'll see you guys tomorrow," Toby's voice rings through the air as he slides his Vans on while ignoring Adam completely and leading the way out the door.

"Bye!" Chelsea exclaims with a full mouth of orange chicken; she had had enough of studying for the night anyway.

Adam laughs at her but doesn't mind so much that their study group disperses as his eyes trail over the pair of legs still lingering on his lap. "I guess it's just you and me," he tells Chelsea with a chuckle.

"And me," Colson adds. He's tired of Adam flirting so explicitly, and he had to make it known that he is a witness. Just as he speaks, though, his phone rings and he laughs, "maybe not." He takes the call very quickly and gets up saying, "Slim and the guys are goin' down to the bar tonight. I'll see you later, babe."

"Alright," she forces a smile. "Say hi to Travis for me," she tells him.

"Travis?" he asks already halfway out of the door. "We're not with him tonight. The fuck you on that motherfucker's dick for?" he teases as the image of his best friend flutters through his mind.

"Watch it, Cole," she tells him with a stern look on her face. He could try to be a little polite in front of company.

"Bye babe, bye asshole!" Colson yells back with a huge grin on his face.

"It's Adam!" The man next to her rolls his eyes at the insult.

"Yea, that's what I said!" he yells slamming the door shut.

"How do you deal with him? He's such a bitch," Adam groans leaning over and absentmindedly pushing Chelsea's feet off of him.

Chelsea shrugs in response as she wiggles her way to a seated position, "the things you do for love."

Adam sighs at her words. He knows that her relationship what the last thing she wanted to think about right now so he loads up her plate again, and they continue to chat. The conversation is easy. Everything with Chelsea is easy for him. After finishing his third plate Adam excuses himself. While he's in the bathroom Chelsea grabs her phone and taps the second number under her favorites.

"Hey, ma," she hears his coarse voice from the other end and smiles into the receiver.

"Milliiie," she drags out as a sudden grin breaks out on her face.

"What's up, baby girl?" he asks letting the smoke escape his lungs with a breath.

She bites her lip before asking, "you're not out?"

"Nah, me and the guys got some girls here; we're just chillin' at the crib if you wanna come through," he says as he eyes glide down the body of a brunette sitting across from him.

She knows he's having a good time because she can hear the laughter in his voice. She's disappointed, but she decides not to bother him any further and says, "okay, we'll catch up later; have a good night, Mills."

He shuts his eyes when he hears the tone in her voice. He doesn't want to leave, but he'd do anything for Chelsea. "Sit tight, ma, I'll be there in thirty," he tells her before he hangs up quickly without giving her a chance to protest.

Chelsea smiles to herself; she's glad that she has a friend who knows her so well.

"Everything OK?" Adam asks as he strides slowly into the living room surprised to see her smiling.

"Yea," she nods surprised that she forget Adam hadn't left, "one of my friends is coming over in a little bit."

Adam bites his lip and nods, understanding the source of her happiness now. He crashes down on the sofa once again, and the pair stare at each other for a moment before he finally says, "you know I'm always here for you, right?"

"Yeah," Chelsea flashes a weak smile his way unsure of what to tell him.

"I like you, Chels," he admits refusing to take his eyes off her, "I don't want you to get hurt."

Chelsea suddenly feels feverish as the butterflies invade her belly. Adam likes her? Surely she's taking it out of context.

The buzzing of his phone interrupts her thoughts. She watches as he checks his message before redirecting his attention back to her and saying, "one of the residents says there's a rager tonight."

"You should go," she tells him with an encouraging nod.

"I will," he agrees, "but I can always be here when you need me." They stare at each other again neither gaze wavering. The insects in her belly flap their wings harder at the look he is giving her, and she Chelsea scolds herself mentally because it feels so wrong to be feeling this with someone that isn’t Colson. Thankfully, the doorbell rings and brings her back to reality. Adam stands up and throws his Nike bag over his shoulder with his tattooed arm, and Chelsea walks over to the apartment door to open it.

"Hey, mama," Travis' voice sings to her as he walks in and reaches over to hug her. She smiles at him genuinely before turning to Adam and saying, "thanks again. Have fun tonight."

"Yea, no problem," he tells her, "and you too," he adds eying her company with a raised brow.

She laughs at his response before giving him a quick hug and locking the door behind him.

"Pimp status, huh?" Travis asks jokingly pocketing his hands in his black jeans.

"We were studying, dummy," she shoves him playfully, and they land on the loveseat together. "Why'd you come?" she asks him. She's curious how he could give up a night for her (and so many others) when Colson couldn't.

"Because I can get pussy anytime I want," he admits, "when you call that's more important," he tells her honestly, and she laughs at him.

"You're good at what you do," she says. "Keep talking like that, and my pants might come off too," she jokes giving him a nudge.

Travis doesn't comment. He isn't sure how he feels about it. Instead, he pulls a rolled joint out of his pocket as she gets up to find the DVD Colson rented for the two of them. "I Love You, Man?" she holds up the case asking Travis if he wants to watch.

Travis nods at her as he lights up. He doesn't really care what they're doing, just that it's them. Chelsea closes her eyes at sound of lighter sparking and inhales the smell from where she stands before rushing to turn off the lights. She crashes into him on the love seat eagerly waiting for him to pass the weed so she can just forget the pain for a moment.