Page 55 of Tracing Holland

“Excuse me?”I manage, suddenly unable to draw in enough oxygen.

“You heard me, bitch.Stay away from Holland.I told you, we know what you are!”

“How do you know Laurel?”

“Why does it matter?Laurel isn’t important.It’s the fact that you’re a douchebag who’s about to wreck someone I care about that matters!You’re a fucking loser!Total scum who doesn’t deserve…”

I see red.I’m not even sure what happens next, I just know it’s bad.I know it makes my fist hurt, then my cheek, then my fist again, then my stomach, my ribs.I know it’s happening again.I know old wounds are ripping open, tearing chunks of flesh out of my consciousness and littering them all over a grimy bathroom floor that’s collected so much of my past over the years.

I catch a brief flurry of activity in the mirror, two grown men flying at each other, fighting for, I don’t even know what.What am I fighting for?Certainly not my dignity.I threw that away a long time ago.Holland?No.I’m smart enough to understand that this insanity isn’t going to win me any points there, only push me further from any chance of convincing her I’m not this kind of monster anymore.No, I’m just fighting because that fucking fuse blew my head apart and let this idiot derail everything I’ve been working to build.I’m fighting because sometimes no matter how hard you fight it’s not enough and all it takes is the tiniest trigger to explode the landmine.

It doesn’t last long.I sense neither of us had a clear goal when we started, and at some point I find myself alone again.There’s a sharp pain around my eye, blood dripping from my lip.My right knuckles are swollen and throbbing.My ribs are on fire, but Wes is the one who ran.He looked about how I feel, so I don’t even know who won.I’m pretty sure we’ve both lost, considering the coming fallout.

I grip the edge of the sink and stare at myself in the mirror.My fingers instinctively rise to the growing welt around my left eye and I wince from the contact.My bottom lip is cracked and I don’t even want to know what my chest looks like.So stupid.Completely ridiculous, and I’m furious about the entire encounter.I know I should be hating that dick Wes right now, and I do, but it’s my own battered reflection that’s haunting me.

Old Luke woke up bloody and sore on bathroom floors.Old Luke fought over girls and trash-talked puny threats to his manhood.Old Luke embarrassed himself with public displays of primal rage, and here I am, staring into the troubled eyes of Old Luke.The Luke I just fought to prove I wasn’t.

The door bursts open, startling me from my critique, and I sigh as Casey rushes toward me.

“What the hell happened?Are you ok?Oh, shit!”

“I’m fine,” I mutter, pushing away from the sink and grabbing a paper towel.I wet it and hold it up to the burning bruise on my eye.

Casey collects a couple more and hands me the wad for my lip.

“So are you going to tell me what happened or am I just supposed to guess,” Casey quips, leaning against another sink to face me.

“I told you.I’m fine.Can we just let this go?”

“Let it go?You and Wes just beat the shit out of each other!We’re touring with them!It’s kind of a big deal!”

I sigh and shake my head.“Seriously, Case, just let it go.We had a misunderstanding.It’s worked out now.”

He still looks concerned, and I know this placating thing is not going to work on him, but there’s no way I’m getting into the story now.

“Do you want me to call TJ?I’m sure we can get them kicked off the tour.”

“No!”I blurt way too fast.“I mean, it’s fine.I had it coming.We both did.Just let it go.We’ll work it out.”

We’re silenced by a knock on the door, and Casey pulls it open with a wary peek.

“Is Luke in here?”

My stomach drops at Holland’s voice.

“Oh, hey, Holland.Yeah, he’s here.”He lets her in and I brace myself, having no idea what to expect from her.

“Oh my gosh!”she cries, rushing toward me.“Luke, I’m so sorry.”

I’m strangely touched by her unexpected apology.“It’s fine.I’m fine,” I assure her, turning back to face my battered reflection, mostly so I don’t have to face her.But she follows and meets my gaze in the mirror.

“Case, do you mind making sure everyone gets back to the buses?I’d rather not have to see anyone right now.”

Casey is clearly still concerned.“Are you sure, man?I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I told you, I’m fine.I just need a few minutes.Please, Case?”

“Go, Casey.I’ll stay with him and make sure he gets back,” Holland chimes in, and we both glance at her in surprise.She shrugs.“What?I think I can handle a few wet paper towels.I was pre-med after all.”

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