Hell yeah. “Baby, I want that, too. I don’t ever want to be without you again. You belong with me. I belong to you. You’re my girl.”
“I’m your girl,” she admits. It’s like a declaration, an admission that I want to be eternal.
“Say it again,” I demand.
“I’m yours, Josh.” I sigh deep and contented, rubbing the spot on my chest that is filled with warmth. “And you’re mine,” she adds.
“Damn straight, baby. I will always belong to you.” I look up at the stars—our stars and wish we were holding hands under the tree by our spot. Wishing I could roll her to her back and kiss her. Kiss her like it’s the first time we have ever tasted the other. Drive her body into a frenzy until she’s begging me to do more than just kiss. “Man, I don’t want to go to this party, tonight. I just want to stay on the phone and talk to you for hours,” I admit as I reach the building of my dorm with distaste.
“So don’t go,” she says. “I love hearing your voice. I could listen to you talk endlessly and still want more time.”
“Is that so?”
“M’hm.”
“What would we talk about?” I ask as I open the door to walk inside, dropping my voice into the flirty tone that always makes her trip up.
“Uh, well you could whisper sweet love notes in my ear.”
“Love notes, huh? I could sing you to sleep if you wanted me to.”
“I would love that actually. You singing, though, doesn’t make me sleepy.” She makes this cute little croaking sound as she yawns. “Sorry, that wasn’t cute.” It totally was.
“Not sleepy, huh?”
“Sorry, sing to me and I won’t be sleepy anymore. Promise.” Her voice becomes raspy and I want to know why. I want to know how my singing affects her.
“What does my singing make you then?” I rest against a wall before heading down the hall to my dorm.
She pauses a beat, “Um…it makes me need you. Like, uh, really need you.”
Damn. “My singing turns you on?” I know my voice has dropped into that low register and I have to adjust myself because now I’m turned on.
“Yes,” she breathes the word out.
“You’re killing me.” I push off the wall and head the rest of the way to my dorm, prepared to take this conversation somewhere more private. I get to my door and, “Fuck me!” I say out loud, but under my breath.
“Uhhh…how would that work exactly on the phone?” I hear her ask.
“What?” I have ideas…for another day now. “Sorry, no, I was talking to myself. I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I seriously hate my roommate. The damn sock is on the door again. I haven’t been able to get in the room for most of the day.”
“Oh,” she says like she’s disappointed a little. Interesting. “Sock? What does that mean?” Her innocence is adorable. How does fucking on the phone work? What does the sock on the door mean? So freaking cute.
“It means he’s doing the nasty with, Kristen. Seriously, they go at it like bunnies when she’s here. The sock was already on the door once today.”
Riley giggles. “Well, I happen to know sex can happen more than once a day when um…you really want it.”
The tension melts away and all that’s left is me wanting her…again. I could teach her how we can do this on the phone. “Damn,” I sigh. “Listen, let me call you back in a bit, okay?” I yank the sock off the door. This is done. I need my space too. I need privacy with her.
“Actually, I’m sort of tired and will probably fall asleep to be honest. Enjoy your party, though, and we can talk tomorrow. K?” I won’t enjoy the party. I’m so pissed and just done with this bullshit. We were having a moment and now it’s over.
“Love you, pretty girl.”
“Sweet dreams, baby,” she says and warmth fills my chest from hearing her call me baby. She hasn’t called me that before.
I hang up the phone and throw my hand over my eyes as I open the door to confront the horny bunnies on the other side that have ruined my night.
“Chris, bruh… I need to grab my clothes so I can shower and change…and well, this is my fucking room, too. You’ve had the sock on the door twice today, dammit. C’mon man.”
“Fuck, dude. Give us a second,” he says and I hear ruffling about, groaning and gasping.
“Twice today?” I hear Kristen ask. She didn’t know that? Oh, hell.
“It’s not what you think. I let someone else use our room,” he declares. Such a liar.
“You have 60 seconds, Chris.” I state and shut the door.
Thin walls, thin doors. I can hear every word they are saying.
“You let someone else screw in your bed? That’s like double contamination and disgusting, Chris.”
“No, I let them screw in his bed,” he corrects.
He what?
Naked or not, I head back in the room. “You did fucking what again? You let someone use my bed to get nasty?”
They are both getting dressed, but I’m too angry to give a damn. He best be joking.
“No, I didn’t,” he retracts his admission straight faced.
“You didn’t?” Both Kristen and I ask at the same time. Me in annoyance because he’s full of shit, her in confusion wanting to see the best in her boyfriend.
Chris runs his hand across his face, his composure slipping. He begins to pace dressed in nothing but his boxers, his eyes bouncing between Kristen and mine nervously and full of guilt. I see it. It’s written all over him. Why doesn’t she see it?
She dresses quickly and halts his pacing with a hand on his chest. “You’re not making sense, Chris. Your story keeps changing. Did you or did you not let someone borrow the room? And if so, your bed or his because seriously, if it was your bed and then we almost did it, that kind of makes me have a cringe attack.” She shivers and makes a gagging sound.
He looks down and I know. He’s lying. He hung the sock on the door for himself. She just wasn’t the one he hung it for.
“Oh, my God!” she throws a hand over her mouth. His head dipped low, his eyes not meeting hers are all signs of guilt that she is seeing with her own eyes now.
He’s there in front of her. “It’s not what you think, Kris. I was studying and I just didn’t want anyone to bother me. So I hung the sock and I—,”
She interrupts him, her eyes narrowing. “You’re lying. You’re always lying to me, Christopher. Making excuses for shit, for why you can’t come visit me, but I can come here when you tell me it’s okay. Making me think it’s one thing when deep down I know it’s something else. I always believe you. I always forgive you because I never thought you would do this. I just thought you were busy.” She slaps his chest and makes a hiccuping sound. “I’m so stupid. You weren’t just busy were you? You were actually getting busy. Who is she? Is she prettier than me?”
“Kris, baby, it’s nothing really. I love you.” He reaches for her and she steps away, her eyes narrowing and his flashing cold with anger in an instant. “Fuck it. You wanna make a big deal out of this, fine. I’m over it. I have a party to go to.”
I feel awkward standing here watching them trip up over this lie, this lie that I just exposed without knowing so. I begin to gather my clothes and bathroom accessories.
“You’re over it. What the hell does that mean? And it’s a big deal. You hung the sock on the door, Chris. You did. It wasn’t for me. You know that. How could you do that to me? Why would you?” She begins to cry and he continues to try to deny the obvious. I ignore it all and leave the room. Not my business. She will forgive him. She always does. It baffles me.
Seconds become minutes, minutes become hours and hours become days. Those days turned into moments, moments of awkwardness with a roommate I drunkenly punched in the face at Collin’s party a week earlier. I don’t even remember doing it. I don’t know exactly what had happened, just that I was pissed at him.
I had come out of the shower, dressed in my outfit that night, thinking the room would be empty
, but it wasn’t. Kristen was just standing there looking down at his bed, the bed that he had shared with someone else before she had arrived. She looked up at me and something in my heart broke for her because in that moment she wasn’t Kristen to me, she was Riley. I imagined her trusting Dean and him cheating on her time and again. I imagined her face when she saw me in bed with Natalie thinking I did the same.
“He just left you here?” I asked her.
A tear slid down her cheek. “He said he had a party to go to, you heard him. I was supposed to be going with him, but apparently I’m no longer invited. He said that I was overreacting, that I needed to quit being a little girl. He said a lot of things I will replay in my head,” she told me before glancing back at the bed splintering before me. I stood stunned, wondering what things, what lies and excuses Dean has told Riley over the years. How many times he said cruel words like those to her? How many times did she wear that sad expression on her face, not knowing the real him, not knowing I knew the real him the entire time and never told her.
I don’t know what had possessed me to do it, but I invited Kristen to the party with me. Wrong move. Not only was Chris pissed at me for it, it looked really bad. Like I was there with her and I wasn’t. Like I was stepping in or something. She might have gotten the wrong impression and of course I had to explain it, which made her feel even more stupid. I wanted to be nice, but instead I looked like an ass.
Chris ignored her for the most part. He was too busy flirting with another girl, flirting with Natalie. Natalie flirts with everyone. They kissed and I watched Kristen in the corner staring at him, the hurt and devastation evident all over her face. I fought the urge to comfort her. The alcohol in my system was blurring my judgment.
I had drunk a lot. It wasn’t purposely. Just happened. I felt awkward with Kristen, pissed at Christopher, missing Riley. The guys were talking football. Football talk led to discussions of my being released. That thought led to frustration and shame. Add that on to this thing with my roommate acting too much like I guy I despised for years, I got reckless.
Something about the two of them bothered me immensely. I think because I knew Dean was cheating on Riley and I never said anything. I should have. Had I been honest with her from the beginning, so many things wouldn’t have happened. So much time wouldn’t have been lost and wasted. I wouldn’t have been hours away without her. We wouldn’t have hurt each other time and time again. The more I thought about the past, the more I drank. The more I drank, the more seeing my roommate act so much like Dean, the more pissed I got. I don’t remember much. I just know him and I had words at some point and we fought. I hit him. He obviously had hit me back based on the sore jaw I had the next morning. I honestly didn’t remember much of it.
Time past and it was forgotten for the most part. Guys do this. We fight, we move on. He and I just stay out of one another’s space now. Kristen did forgive him. She always does. I avoid them both when she comes to visit.
Then awkward went to worse when the coaching staff made a press release. The thing with being a part of and then not a part of a nationwide, well known, well-respected football team is things like that happen, stuff makes the news. Especially when you’re good and talk whirling around your name has always been, “This boy is going places,” and “What potential!”
I was good. I was really good. I had potential and I single handedly fucked it up. Recruiters had been watching me for years and this not working out was a big freaking deal. It was in my hands. I was distracted. I wasn’t focused. I wasn’t my best and I deserved to be cut, but it still didn’t feel good, even if I knew my heart was back in Texas, even if I knew I wanted her more than the game.
The guys were treating me differently, although not all, just some. Things were changing for me. I wasn’t who I thought I was anymore. I wasn’t needed. I wasn’t their leader. I still worked out at the gym with Collin and many of my teammates, but for the first time I felt like I was in foreign territory. I felt uneasy. I felt homesick and out of place.
Watching my picture, my name announced on the screen by sportscasters was difficult to say the least. I felt like a failure. I felt embarrassed. I knew these things happen all of the time, and it’s just the nature of this business, but it hurt.
It hurt worse that I hadn’t told my dad. I hadn’t yet found the words to explain to him, to apologize for letting him down. And seeing the news talk about me, to see it being explained for me was hard to watch, hard to swallow and I felt sick. Sick because that is how he was going to find out. That was how he would learn that his son that once had such a bright future ahead of him as the quarterback of this amazing team was now a failure, a broken instrument of no use to them.
I was at Daryl’s sitting on a bar stool watching it on the screen, knowing I should pick up the phone and call him. Give him a heads up except I’m sure he knew by now, surprised my own phone wasn’t ringing. I was a pussy and just couldn’t bring myself to make that move first.
I’m playing tonight, playing soon actually and all I want to do is get up and leave, call Riley and act as though this is all going to be just fine. That’s my loss on that screen, that’s my failure and everyone around me knew it.
“Dude, did you really want it?” Collin asks, sitting down next to me. “You’ve got the music and that’s what you truly love. Besides, this takes you back to Riley.”
I know all of this. I really do. It doesn’t hurt any less to hear how you weren’t good enough, though. How big things were expected of you, but that you failed to measure up. I’m a guy. My pride is wounded.
I sigh, doing my best to push through the melancholy. I have a show to do. I grab my guitar and head to the back room to warm up my vocals. I have one week and then it’s Spring Break. One week and I can breathe and pretend that this isn’t one colossal fuck up of epic proportions, one thing that befuddles my future.
My phone pings with an incoming text in my back pocket. I pull it out to read a text from Riley.
Riley: I HOPE YOU’RE OKAY. I’M WORRIED ABOUT YOU.
Of course she is. I’m sure she’s seen the news. I’ve been quiet for a week, being a little distant. She knows by now, though, that this is how I handle things when I’m upset. I’m sure people are talking back home about me. For the first time ever, I wonder what it will be like for me back there. Will people look at me like the star I once was, or view me as the kid that threw it all away for a girl? She’s not just any girl, though. She never was. She’s THE GIRL! I text her back.
Josh: I’M FINE.
I wasn’t. Another ping.
Riley: IS FINE THE SAME IN GUY TALK AS IT IS IN GIRL TALK? CUZ THAT ISN’T REALLY FINE, THEN?
I grin and it’s just like her to make me smile when I feel so shitty. I think, ‘Fine’ in any language means I don’t want to talk about it so just drop it.
Josh: IT’S ALL GOOD PRETTY GIRL. GOING ON STAGE SOON.
Riley: YOUTUBE?
Josh: OF COURSE. IT’S AN ORIGINAL.
My phone rings in my hand and I answer it right away.
“Tired of texting?” I ask.
“M’hm. An original? Josh, that’s awesome.” Hearing her voice, her excitement melts away the tension I feel.
“Yeah, it’s all mine and it’s for the girl that is all mine, too.”
“You wrote me a song?” she asks so sweetly.
“Haven’t you learned yet that every song I write is for or about you? You are my lyrics, Riley. You are the music.”
“Awww…” she says. “I love you, Josh. This thing you’re dealing with…it will be okay. Your dad will understand. I hope you know that.”
I run my hands into my hair. “He hasn’t called. Maybe he hasn’t seen it, yet. I know I should call him and give him a heads up, but one, it’s too late and two, I just…I don’t know how to say it.”
“He’ll understand,” she repeats. “This isn’t your fault. This stuff happens.” So sweet. So naïve.
“You’re sweet
to be so understanding, babe, but it is my fault. Look, don’t worry about me, okay. I’m good. I’ll call you later tonight. Love you, pretty girl.”
My times up and I make my way to the stage, ready to leave it all there. When I’m here submerged in the music, everything ceases to matter. It’s bliss in the purest of forms.
I do my intro and no matter what is being said about me the crowd cheers, and I smile because this is where I fit. Collin is right. This is my true passion. The music is what sets me free. Brings me to life. Maybe I should pursue this.
I glance around at the crowd and one guy sitting at a table catches my eyes. He’s not a regular, yet seems vaguely familiar. I stare for a bit before placing my hands on the strings that take me to another place. I sing a song I wrote about Riley the night she went back to Texas. I tap my guitar with the flat of my palm to get a different beat going and then I bring to life the love Riley and I share with one another.
IT NEVER WAS A SIMPLE THING
WE’RE ALWAYS BARELY BREATHING
BALANCING ON THE EDGE
HELD TOGETHER BY A THIN THREAD
YET, SO ENTANGLED WE CAN’T LET GO
KNOWING WE DON’T WANT TO
WE FALL… FAST
HANDS CLASPED WITH ONE ANOTHER
WE KISS… GENTLY
LOVING THE TASTE OF THE OTHER
WE TOUCH… SLOWLY
EXPLORING WHERE THIS ALL GOES
WE LOVE… MADLY
FINALLY OKAY WITH BEING EXPOSED
LOOKING BACK ON ALL OF THE YEARS
WHERE WE HELD ON TO ALL OF OUR FEARS
TO THE LIES AND THE MISPLACED TRUST
TO THE DENIAL AND BEING AFRAID OF LOVE
TO US FINALLY BELIEVING IN SOMETHING
IN MORE, IN LOVE… IN EVERYTHING
WE GIVE… INTENTLY
ALWAYS WANTING MORE
WE DANCE… SWEETLY
TO MUSIC THAT IS ONLY OURS
WE FLIRT… RECKLESS
SEDUCING WITH WORDS AND TOUCH
WE FELL… HELPLESS
GIVING IN CAN’T BE STOPPED
Emerge into Forever Page 26
