Laney: I trusted myself. I trusted you.
Reading the words while feeling this raw has my heart rupturing. She sent it a week ago, and then the texts stopped. What message am I sending her by ignoring it? I vowed to be the one man in her life that wouldn’t abandon her. The anger was enough then to fuel my silence, but now it’s the hurt and fear keeping me quiet. We met at a crossroads, and now we’re at another. Trust is what we based our whole relationship on and what tore us apart. The brutal truth is, every time I think about her, I see him too, and the way she looked at him.
Music blares out of the jukebox as I sit at the bar downing another shot before drowning the aftertaste with beer.
I’ve been sitting here since school let out, unwilling to head home. Troy moved out the night I blew up. The house has been eerily quiet since and if I’m honest, I miss the traffic.
“Hey, man.” I look over to see Lance sidle up on the barstool next to me.
Glancing over, I study the bulk of him. I observe he’s the dark jock to Troy’s light as he orders a beer. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here. This isn’t your scene, is it?”
I glance around the musty bar. Skeletons of longhorns hang sporadically around the place while stapled signed dollar bills pose as wallpaper.
“Not my scene, no,” he says, sipping his beer. “This is where you come to hide, and it’s cheap.”
“Yeah.”
“You look bummed.”
I shrug. “Girl shit.”
“Something to do with that beauty you used to bring home all the time?”
“You saw her?”
“Heard her mostly. She cracked me up.”
I frown.
He shrugs. “Thin walls. Couldn’t be helped.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Seems like you had a good year.” He grins and sips his beer, and I study the barbed wire tattoo around his bicep.
“Well, my good year is ending on a shitty note. Garçon!” I call to the bartender who gives me a tattooed bird before pouring more shots.
“So, what’s your story?” I ask. “Seriously. I’ve never seen a jock be such a recluse.”
“I’m a creature of my routine. I break out once in a while. But I stick to my circle, and it’s small.”
“I get it. Mine is dwindling.”
“Yeah, be careful with that,” he says, tapping the bar next to my empty shot glass. Seconds later we’re raising freshly poured shots in a toast. “To the graduating class of 2019,” he says before tipping it back. I inhale the liquid with him.
“So, are your parents coming to your graduation?”
He shakes his head. “Nah.”
“Really, why?”
“I’m up,” he says, jutting a chin over his shoulder at the guy waiting at the pool table, stick in hand. “See you, man.”
“See you.”
He lays a twenty on the bar, and it’s when he walks away that I realize I discovered absolutely nothing about Lance. He’s moving out in a week and will forever remain a mystery to me.
I raise my finger.
“Another shot?”
“Line ‘em up,” I pluck my wallet of another twenty when my phone buzzes due to a slew of incoming texts.
Zach: Fucking parties everywhere man! Hit me up!
Courtney: You better not have screwed this up!
Brenna: Hey Ya? What the hell is going on?
Jamie: Call me right now!!
Sighing, I glance down at the coaster under my beer and see it’s an advertisement for Laney’s favorite. It doesn’t matter where I look, she’s there.
Just as that thought crosses my mind, the music changes, and Tim McGraw’s voice fills the bar.
“Are you fucking serious!?”
“What’s that?” The bartender asks.
“Mind if I unplug the jukebox?” I ask before tossing back the shots.
“Yes, I fucking mind, and you need to slow it down there.”
“I’m good,” I stand on shaky legs and make my way toward the source of the noise. The words of the song are like gravel scraping across my gaping chest. I pull another bill from my pocket and put it into the machine as the chorus hammers into me. “Fuck you, Tim McGraw,” I flip through the music as Laney’s first love tells me the story about a girl he lost because he was stupid enough to let her go and how it haunts him.
I white-knuckle grip the side of the jukebox shaking myself back and forth. “This. Is. Not. Happening.”
Drunk and stupid, I close one eye and focus on the title “Everywhere”.
“Well, isn’t that ridiculously appropriate,” I spit at the machine as I enter the song’s number eight times using all my credits before I slink down onto the dirty floor next to it. Closing my eyes, I thump the back of my head against the wall memorizing every note, every single syllable of every lyric, knowing I may never play it for her.
I make it to the sixth replay before I’m slung over a shoulder and hauled out of the bar.
The next morning, I wake up dressed in bed with a post-it stuck to my forehead and Laney’s open shampoo bottle running down my chest. The scent of orange blossoms causes my chest to re-crack just as a searing pain makes its presence known behind my eyes. Cracking one open, I spot an icy Gatorade on my nightstand. I down the liquid and squint at the words until they come into focus.
Theo
“Yo, Theo,” Dante calls from the porch.
“Sup, little man?” I say, approaching him. “What are you in for today?”
“I got in trouble at school.”
“You need to take it easy on your mom.”
“I know,” he says, looking surprisingly guilty. “I made her cry.”
“Not good, buddy.”
“She didn’t even tell me to come out here. I came out by myself. I told her I wouldn’t make her cry no more, but she said she’s tired of the men in her life letting her down.”
“Oh,” I say, glancing toward the door. “Look, she’s going to need you to be really nice to her for a little while, okay? Think you can handle that?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Dante grins as a familiar truck comes into view from down the street. “Mommmm, Troy is here!”
I watch his truck pull up to the curb before Troy opens his door and looks at me pensively. With a sigh, he makes his way to the bed of the truck to grab a lawn mower. Once he has it down, he walks over to the porch.
“Hey, little dude, where’s your mom?”
Dante shakes his head. “She’s inside, but she’s crying.”
Troy looks over at me, guilt covering his features.
“Tell me you didn’t,” I say as he sinks where he stands.
“Jesus Christ, Jenner,” I say, tossing my hands up.
Dante looks between us confused. “What did he do?”
“Nothing to worry about, little man,” Troy says, giving me a warning look. “Hey, Dante, do you mind letting me talk to Theo a minute?”
“Momma got that cereal you like,” he supplies as Troy walks him toward the door.
“Yeah, maybe I’ll have some after I do the grass. Go on inside for a second, okay?”
“If this is man talk, I’m cool. I’m the man of this house.”
Troy grimaces. “Go on,” he says, ushering him inside.
“Fine,” Dante huffs. “Later, Theo.”
When the door closes, Troy looks down at his feet and sighs. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Please don’t confuse me for someone who cares enough about you to want to understand. It’s them I care about.”
He shakes his head and turns to me, crossing his arms. “You think I don’t?”
“I don’t think you care about anyone above yourself.”
“Well, you’re fucking wrong. Look, you hate me, and that’s fine, but there’s something you need to know about Laney.”
“Save your breath.”
“S
he wasn’t lying. She never once gave me any reason to go after her. She wouldn’t even tell me her name. Every bit of that cat and mouse was me. It was all me. She’d already told me to fuck off twice before you came outside and at every turn before that. I’m the one who ran up on her. I’m the one who tried to force it. I was in a fucked-up place.”
I glare at him from where I stand.
“I just thought you should know.”
“She already told me this herself.”
“Yeah, but I’m guessing you didn’t believe her.”
“And I should believe you?”
“Yeah, you should because when she looked at me, she saw me the same way you do, and I think that’s what attracted me to her. I wanted to prove you both wrong.” He glances at Clarissa’s closed door. “But I was trying to prove myself to the wrong people.” He lifts his chin. “You assume so much about me, just like everyone else and I just never bothered to correct you.”
“Troy! Momma won’t come outside!” Dante pokes his head out of the door, and Troy winces, kneeling to whisper something to him. It’s then that I see the resemblance and it’s uncanny. I never looked for it, but now that I am, it’s blatantly obvious. Troy closes the door and turns back to face me.
“He’s yours.”
Troy nods.
“And you haven’t told him?”
He harrumphs. “This is messier than you could ever imagine and fuck the look on your face, Houseman. Do you think I answered your ad because I couldn’t find anywhere else to live closer to campus? Half my friends wouldn’t even charge me to live at their spots. Your address was my chance to be closer to him and look out for them both. She,” he wipes a hand down his face, “she doesn’t want anything to do with me.” His voice turns to ice. “You think I wanted to pay rent late every month? Contrary to what you think, I wasn’t getting my dick waxed every time I had a late night, I was working my fucking ass off to pay the rent for three. Between that and ball—” he shakes his head in aggravation, “you know what? I could fill a fucking book with what you don’t know. You got the only explanation I owe you,” he snaps before slamming the door behind him.
Stunned, I stare at the door long after it’s closed. Troy is right. I’d assumed far too much about everyone close to me and used my judgments as armor, which only ended up pushing people out of my life. People I care about, people I love.
Laney’s words come back to me. I did need another serving of humble pie.
And I just ate the whole fucking thing.
Grannism—Love ‘em enough to let them break your heart but learn enough so they don’t break your spirit.
Laney
“To the class of 2019, we salute you.”
We all rise, tossing our hats and throwing our hands in the air. My heart’s in it just enough to celebrate the moment as camera flashes go off like sparkling diamonds across the stadium. We march out in rows, and it takes me a small eternity to find my mother. And when I do, she’s not happy.
“You can’t just come here.”
“I have a right.”
“You have no right.”
“Mom?” I ask as the man she’s arguing with turns to face me.
My mom smiles and pulls me to her. “Oh baby, I’m so proud of you. Let me see this diploma.” She takes the pleather folder from my hand and opens it as I study the man next to her.
“It’s fake. They’re going to mail the real one.”
“Oh,” she says, taking a step forward and blocking my view.
“Hello,” I address the man behind her.
“Hi Laney,” the man smiles, and it’s familiar.
“Jim, right?”
His smile widens. “You remember me?”
“Not really, no.” I’d looked him up a couple of years ago, but I’m not about to admit it. He has a pretty wife and a young son that looks just like him.
“I told you she wouldn’t remember you.”
“Please, Deidra, don’t make a scene.”
“Then take your ass on back to Houston,” she snaps over her shoulder, carefully tugging on my hair and fussing over my gown. “You look so beautiful.”
I step around her, curious.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you graduate. You know this is my alma mater.”
I nod. “I’m aware.”
“I just wanted to be here for you, to congratulate you.”
“Why?”
“Well, I was told you were graduating soon at a Christmas party.”
“By who?” I look at my mother, who looks just as clueless.
“The son of one of my golfing buddies. Theo. He’s not a fan of mine, and had some choice words for me and—”
“My Theo?”
“Yes, he didn’t tell you we met?”
“No, he didn’t,” I say, tears springing to my eyes.
“Well, he made quite an impression on me and seems to care a great deal about you. Told me he was madly in love with you.” My sperm donor smiles as my heart crash lands in my stomach.
“He told you this at Christmas?”
“He did, and I’ve been thinking about calling but—”
“What exactly did he say?”
“Laney, I’m trying to tell you about how I’ve—”
“I don’t care about you,” I say, letting my tears fall freely. “At all. I care about him.”
Jim’s features twist in defeat. “That seemed to be his exact sentiment.”
“Yeah well, he could tell me exactly what was said. You know why? Because that’s the type of man he is. He would know how important the conversation was to me.”
“I’m sorry, I was in a bit of shock. Laney, I’d like to—”
I laugh sarcastically. “It’s way too late, Jim. My mother did your job and hers. Thanks for the checks, we used them. We needed them. We deserved them. But this here,” I gesture between us. “Ain’t happenin’. Ever.”
“Laney, please hear me out.” His face is reddening from my rejection.
“No offense, Jim, but I don’t want to know you. I have no hard feelings against you. None. Truly. But I don’t want to know you.”
I walk away, unable to hold the emotions surfacing.
Theo met my father and didn’t tell me. It’s too much.
“I’m going to go look for Devin,” I tell my mother. “I’ll be back.”
I hear the faint sound of my parents arguing behind me, and I have to admit, it’s odd.
“I told you.”
“Fine, Deidra, you told me, I just want to be there for her.”
“Well, if you’re really sincere—”
I can’t listen to anymore. Once I’m a safe distance away, reeling from the idea of Theo confronting my dad about being a deadbeat. Life decides to deliver another blow when the crowd parts and I see him. He’s dressed in a suit, black skinny tie, and his chucks. My eyes re-fill instantly at the welcome sight of him as he searches the crowd with eager eyes, panic covering his features. I’d never been so emotional in my life as I had been while falling in love with this man and losing him. When his eyes finally land on mine, I see relief briefly as he stops his feet and stands a few yards away. His eyes roam my face, my parted robe and my new dress beneath, before trailing down to my boots and I see his lips lift at the sight of them. It’s a dagger to the heart when his eyes return to mine filled with the same longing I feel. My heart calls out to his from where I stand, my eyes pleading with his to close the distance.
Swiping the tears off my cheeks, I wait while he studies me, my heart bottoming out in anticipation. Finally, he takes the few steps separating us.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“You look incredible.”
“So do you,” I say, trying my best to keep my voice even.
“Still taking that trip?”
I nod.
“When do you leave?”
; “In a few days.”
He nods. “How have you been?”
“Horrible. You?”
He cups the back of his neck, guilt marring his face.
“Are you—”
“Are we really going to do small talk?”
He runs a hand down his bearded jaw and pulls it away before shaking his head and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Laney, I’m so sorry. For the things I said. For the way I acted. I’ve never acted like that. Ever. I’ve never felt like that. It scared the shit out of me.”
“Me too.”
He studies me, his face filled with remorse. “I’m so sorry for a lot of things.”
I nod. “I know. Me too.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He takes a step forward, and I’m hit with the familiar scent of his cologne. The cologne my mother bought for him on one of our happiest days. He still wears it, even without her audience.
I’ll never stop loving this man.
Senses reeling, I swallow all the things I want to say and let him take the lead. The ball has been in his court the whole time we’ve been apart. In a way, this is our moment of truth. We stand divided for endless seconds, just staring.
“I made my mistakes,” I confess, “I know what they were. But you’re right, you should be sorry. And you went silent on me.”
He shakes his head as if to ward off emotion while we both choke on the pain radiating between us. All too clearly, I can see the battle warring in his head.
The future I’ve been so scared of is now, I’m standing in it. There are no decisions left to make. Today is the first day of the rest of the forever I have, and I want to live in it with him. With a hopeful heart, I stare on at him, willing him to believe me. Willing him to bridge the gap, because it’s his to close.
It’s when he remains quiet, that his lack of words rip what’s left of my heart apart.
The Underdogs: The Complete Series Page 25
