by Nikki Paris
“Or maybe I’ll see you at one of your games when you’re famous.” She gave me a half-smile and wiped away a tear that dared to escape.
“Right.” I smiled.
“Evan?” Her voice cracked.
“Yeah?” I wanted to hold her so fucking bad.
Sienna hugged herself and looked down at her trademark black canvas shoes. “I just wanted you to know that I told Ava to stop telling people that you cheated. That was shitty of her, and I know she’s sorry about it.” Her beautiful eyes hesitantly met mine.
So Sienna wasn’t okay with Ava’s lies, and she really did love me. How the hell was I going to walk away from this girl? I took a deep breath and felt a pain spreading across my chest. “Thanks.” I ran my hands through my hair and let my eyes travel up and down her body, trying to memorize every inch of her. “Bye, Sienna.” I studied her face for a minute longer and then turned to walk back to my Camaro.
Right before I climbed in, I yelled, “Promise me you’ll stay away from wasps!”
Sienna laughed through her tears and yelled back, “Promise!”
And then I drove away, already missing her like crazy.
9
Four Years Later
Evan
Glioblastoma. Gli-o-blast-o-ma: Brain cancer. I’d never heard the word before, but it was about to become my life.
My older sister, Bea, called me a week before my college graduation. “Evan,” she said, “You need to come home.”
“What? Why?” I laughed.
“It’s…” She sighed loudly into the phone. “Dad’s sick.”
“Like, the flu?” I tried to joke, but it fell flat. Bea’s shaking voice told me that this was fucking serious.
“Evan! You’re so insensitive! Dad has brain cancer! You need to come home!”
What? It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I’d just talked to my dad a couple of weeks ago. We talked about graduation and the semi-pro soccer team that I’d signed with. He cracked a few dirty jokes and laughed at my most recent hangover story. No. My dad was fine. “Are you serious, Bea?” I finally breathed out.
“Do I ever joke, Evan?” Bea was crying now.
“Nope.” I sank onto my bed and dropped my phone. “Fuck,” I whispered.
◆◆◆
When I walked through the front door of my parents’ house, it didn’t feel like home. The big gray sectional still sat in the living room, with the same light blue throw pillows. The white curtains with blue diamonds still hung in the windows, and the gray oriental rug still covered the hardwood floor. Everything looked the same, but tension and fear hung in the air that had never been there before.
“Oh! Evan!” My mom hurried down the stairs and flung her arms around my neck. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
“Hey, mom.” I wrapped my arms around her, noticing that she felt thinner than usual.
“Where’s dad?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes. “He’s out back. He’s mowing the lawn.”
I laughed and shook my head. “What?”
“I know. I keep telling him to rest, and he says, ‘Tanya, I’ll rest when I’m dead!’” My mom’s voice cracked on the last word.
I pretended not to hear it and headed for the sliding glass door in the kitchen. I looked out the window, and sure enough, my dad was out there mowing the lawn. He looked fine.
This wasn’t fucking real.
My mom wandered into the kitchen and stood beside me. “Oh, Evan, Aunt Jen is staying in your old room for the next couple of weeks. I would have you stay with Bea and Jack, but they’ve got Sophia, and they only have the two bedrooms. We can set up an air mattress for you in Charlie’s room, though.”
I smiled and shook my head. “I’m sure Charlie would love that.” I shoved my hands in the front pockets of my jeans, my eyes never leaving my dad. “I’ll see if I can crash with Rob or find something to rent.” I hadn’t seen Rob much since I’d left for college, but we still kept in touch, and I knew he lived close by.
“You don’t have to do that, sweetheart!” My mom’s eyes were glued to my dad, too.
“I don’t mind,” I said, and then, “Should I go help him?”
“He won’t let you. His pride might be what kills him in the end.” She wiped a tear that trailed down her cheek. “Oh, one of dad’s old college friends is coming to dinner tonight, so I better get started on the ribs.”
Was everyone in my dad’s life dropping in to say good-bye?
I nodded at my mom and headed up the stairs to find my little sister. Charlie sat on the end of her bed, staring at the wall with a blank look on her face.
“Hey.” I stood in her doorway and waved.
Charlie’s blue eyes flicked up to meet mine. “Hey.”
I walked into her room and sank down next to her on the bed. “I’m going to rent something, Charlie. You won’t have to have me as a roommate.” I grinned and nudged her with my elbow.
She nodded.
“How are you doing?”
Charlie shrugged. She clearly wasn’t in the mood to chat. I was about to get up and leave when she suddenly spoke. “My high school graduation is the last big moment in my life that dad will be a part of. I should be grateful that I at least get that, right?” She met my gaze with eyes full of questions.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I didn’t have answers, only more questions. “They’re really only giving him six to eight months?” I asked.
“Yup.”
“They’re really saying the tumor is inoperable?” Bea had tearfully given me all the details of our dad’s illness over the phone last week, but I almost didn’t believe her. Bea was a drama queen.
Charlie let out a long deep breath. “Yup.”
“I call bullshit. Dad looks strong and healthy. This can’t be real.” I ran my hands through my hair.
Charlie gave me a half-smile. “If anyone could beat these impossible odds, it would be dad.” She leaned her head on my shoulder. “What are you going to do about soccer?”
I’d signed a contract with Cali United about a month ago. It wasn’t the team I wanted to play for. It wasn’t even the league I wanted to play in, but it was a way to keep playing my favorite sport. “Uh, practice doesn’t start until September, so I have a few months to figure it all out.” It was the beginning of May, now, so I had exactly four months to decide.
Charlie sighed. “Yeah. Maybe dad will have miraculously conquered his inoperable brain tumor by then.”
I grinned. “I’m counting on it.” I told myself I didn’t know what I would do with my soccer contract yet, but deep down, I knew I’d drop it if my dad weren’t improving.
“Well, kid.” I patted Charlie’s knee. “I’m going to go look for an apartment and a job while I’m here.”
“Cool.” Charlie’s voice was deadpan. “Maybe I’ll move in with you if aunts and uncles and ‘old friends’ keep parading through our house.”
I laughed. “Wherever I end up, you’re always welcome.”
“Thanks.”
We could hear the lawnmower shut off outside, and I felt my heart start to pound. I’d spoken to my dad on the phone once since his diagnosis, but we heavily avoided talking about the cancer.
I stood and headed down the stairs. I watched him standing in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water. He glanced up and smiled at me. “Hey, son.”
“Hey, dad.” He looked fine.
◆◆◆
Rob looked at me like I was from Mars when I told him about my dad. I hated it. I hated the fucking pity in his eyes. He had two roommates, but said I was more than welcome to his couch. I declined his offer and decided I’d rather live alone anyway. Being around people sucked lately.
I slept on the sectional in my parents’ living room for a week, and then I picked up a part-time job bartending at a little Italian restaurant called Emiliano’s. Once I had a job, I rented an apartment. Charlie wasn’t wrong; there really was a constant parade of aunts, uncles,
and neighbors coming in and out of my parents’ house.
It was exhausting and suffocating.
And I felt powerless.
10
Sienna
I sat at my desk, rubbing my temples, willing the clock to change from 3:30 to 5:00 pm magically. I’d been working as an office bitch at an educational software company for two weeks, and I already wanted to quit. I was starting to understand, just a little, why my dad was always in such a lousy mood growing up.
“Did you send the contract over to Mountain Ridge School District yet?”
When I glanced up and saw one of the salesman looking at me, I straightened in my chair and cleared my throat. “Uh, doing that right now! Sorry!”
The salesman —Tom or Dave, or something boring like that— folded his arms and furrowed his brow.
Calm down, Tim. You’ll get your stupid commission check whether I send the contract now or in ten minutes. To him, I just gave a bland smile and turned back to my computer screen. He stood over my shoulder and watched me email the paperwork to his client.
“Thank you.” He gave me a pointed look and stalked off back to his office.
Did I honestly attend four goddamn years of college and wrack up tens of thousands of dollars of student loan debt to end up here? My phone buzzed in my bag, and I glanced around the office to make sure no one was looking before pulling it out.
I read the text, and my heart rammed against my ribcage. It was the owner of a little bar downtown, letting me know he had an opening for a performer tonight. I’d get paid $100 for an hour-long set, and if it went well, he’d add me to his list of regulars. Holy shit. I shot off a quick reply to let him know I’d take the time slot and slid my phone back into my bag.
This would only be my third paid gig. My nerves ruled my first one, and it turned out to be a complete disaster. My voice was tight and strained, and I rushed my first three songs, so I ran out of things to play almost ten minutes early.
The second one was better, but not great. I really wanted to nail this one tonight. I needed a little validation that it was worth my time to keep pursuing my music.
As soon as work was over, I rushed home to change and grab my guitar. I thought about calling Ava and telling her about the gig, but she was probably busy tonight. She was always busy lately, now that she was Insta-famous.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to know I was playing in public yet anyway. Ava used to force me to play in front of our college friends and then get annoyed with me when I told her my music would never pay the bills.
And it didn’t! It only paid one bill — my cell phone bill — not bills, plural. So technically, I was still right. But Ava would purse her pretty little done-up lips at me and say some bullshit about me “self-handicapping, and hiding.”
Maybe I was hiding, but I wasn’t even remotely ready for Ava’s level of fame. She’d turned her beauty blog into a wild success, and now she had more money and attention than she even knew what to do with. Sometimes, when it was just Ava and me, her shoulders would slump, and the bags under her eyes would show. On those nights, Ava’s fame looked heavy.
I picked up my new guitar and ran my hands over it. It was a gift from Ava for my twenty-second birthday, and she’d spared no expense. She’d even had a little rose custom engraved right below the bridge. Ava always told me I was like a rose, gorgeous and sweet once you got past the thorns.
After I’d unwrapped the guitar at the huge ridiculous party she threw for me, Ava said, “Now you have to play in front of more people!”
I appreciated Ava’s love and support, but she’d been a little pushy lately, and I wanted to go after my dreams on my terms. I didn’t want Ava’s help. I didn’t want to ride her coattails and stay in her shadow. I’d tell her about the gigs soon, after I’d built up something solid by myself.
I hurried out the front door of my apartment and headed to the bar.
There were only a handful of people in the bar when I arrived. A few more trickled in as I stepped onto the stage with my guitar. My heart pounded in my throat, and I felt nauseous.
Suddenly a pair of deep blue eyes filled my mind, and I could almost hear the last words my high school crush said to me. “Keep playing. You’re really good.” I wondered for a split second if Evan was happy and if he’d found someone that he loved more than Ava and more than me.
I hoped so.
I cleared my throat and started to play the pop covers I’d practiced that week. My voice sounded too thin. Shit, shit, shit! I needed to relax! This time, Evan’s smile filled my head. I felt a familiar warmth spread through my chest, and then my voice came out clear and strong.
It was pathetic that I still thought about Evan so much, and even more so that he was the thing that calmed me down when I sang. He’d loved me once, over four years ago, and now he was on the other side of the fucking country. I didn’t know what sad little hope I was holding on to.
When I started my next song, I saw a group of college kids pause their conversation and stop to listen to me. It made my heart skip a beat and almost made me forget the lyrics.
By the time I got to the end of my set, there were over twenty strangers in the bar, and half of them were looking right at me. I’d played for this many people before, but they were all friends. This was a brand new terrifying and electrifying experience.
I closed my eyes and sang the last note of the last song. My eyes popped open at the sound of scattered applause, and one lady even gave me a “Woo-hoo!” I smiled and waved at her, then packed up my guitar. This was my best gig yet.
The bar owner walked over to the little stage and handed me a check. “Well done,” he said. “You’re welcome back any time.”
“Thank you so much!” My smile was too big.
“Oh,” he turned over his shoulder, “I have a guy that’s looking for someone to sing duets with him. He plays here almost every Thursday and Friday night. Should I give him your contact info?”
Wow. If I could start landing regular gigs, I might actually have a shot at building a real music career. I nodded. “Yeah. I’d definitely be interested!”
Was this really happening? I knew it was such a small thing, but it hardly felt real.
11
Evan
A few weeks after coming back home, I was stressed out of my mind and needed a night out. I thought about calling Rob, but he was still acting weird around me since I told him about my dad. He didn’t crack jokes anymore and walked on eggshells. It was exhausting.
I’d go out and drink alone. I wasn’t sure exactly when I became the kind of guy that wanted to drink alone. I suspected it happened the second my sister called and said, “Dad has brain cancer.”
I walked into a little bar down the street from my new apartment. It wasn’t one of those loud, rowdy bars. It was kind-of quiet and low-key. I liked it. I sank onto a barstool and ordered a Guinness.
There were only a handful of patrons scattered throughout the bar. There was a cluster of pool tables to the left and a small stage to the right. A couple sat with their guitars on the stage lit with blue lights so I could only see their silhouettes. The guy started singing first. It was a vaguely familiar sappy love song. I turned back to my beer and took a sip, and then the girl began to sing.
My breath caught in my chest. Holy fuck. I would know that voice anywhere. It was Sienna. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since I left for school, but our last conversation was still burned in my memory. Sienna. The girl I should have asked out when I was a stupid sixteen-year-old. The girl that was never far from my thoughts.
I stood and made my way over to the stage. Slowly the lights came up, and I saw her face. Fuck. She was even prettier than I remembered. Sienna’s eyes were on the guy while she sang. Then she closed them, and I knew the music was ripping through her. Sienna felt shit.
Suddenly her beautiful eyes popped open, and she saw me. Our eyes met, and I swear to god, lightning struck me. After that moment, she locked into me whi
le she sang. It was like she was willing me to stay right where I was until she finished her set.
She didn’t even have to ask. There was no way in hell I was walking away from her. I didn’t even care if the guy she was singing with was her fucking husband.
Sienna and the guy finished their song, then she leaned over and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and started playing another song, but Sienna hopped down off the stage and threw her arms around my neck. “Shut up! Evan fucking Cox!” She was laughing and squeezing me so tight I could hardly breathe.
I didn’t even want to breathe. “Sienna fucking Black.” I laughed and wrapped my arms around her waist. She smelled like lilacs and summer. Damn, she felt good in my arms. All of my old familiar feelings came rushing back with a vengeance.
She pulled away and smiled at me. “How are you? It’s been ages!”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t stop smiling. It was the first time I’d really smiled in weeks. “I’m good.”
“Holy shit! I didn’t even know you were in town!” Sienna looped her arm through mine and led me to an empty table.
“You done singing with your boyfriend?” I pointed to the stage.
Sienna raised her eyebrows. “Hank? Gross. He’s like fifty. And yes, I’m done singing because we need to catch up, dude.”
I grinned at her. “Sure, pal. Let’s do it.”
Sienna sat across from me, smiling and shaking her head. “I can’t believe you’re here! What are you doing here? I thought you signed with Cali United!”
I raised both eyebrows and laughed. “How the hell would you know that, Sienna? Do you stalk me?”
“Ha!” Sienna laughed and said, “Maybe a little.” Then she cleared her throat and stared at her hands. “Ava stalks you a lot, though.” Sienna’s eyes flashed up to meet mine. “Does she know you’re here? Have you seen her yet?”
