by Marie York
I remembered going out to eat with my family and Beckham, and drawing my stick figures on a placemat. Beckham made fun of me and insisted I draw a pair of pants on the poor guy…Dammit. No matter what I did I couldn’t get him out of my head.
The coffee cart came into view, and relief flooded me to see Beckham nowhere in sight. Jimmy stood in his designated place, making coffee and collecting money. He glanced in my direction and spotted me coming his way. A smile spread across his face, and he waved.
With a skip in my step, I waved back. I waited for him to finish with a customer, and then I jumped in before a line formed. It was around that time, and I wanted to beat the rush.
“Your usual?” he asked with the cup already in hand.
“Yes, please.”
“So, I was thinking,” he said, and I raised an eyebrow. “We should get away for a weekend. My grandparents have a lake house two hours from here. It’s beautiful and quiet and far away from all the bullshit. What do you say?”
A weekend trip away was exactly what I needed. Two hours away from campus and two hours away from Beckham. It could be a weekend where I purged him from my system. Focus on myself and having a good time with someone who had quickly become one of my best friends.
He handed me my coffee, and I excitedly took it from him. “What do I say? That sounds amazing! When do we leave?”
“I was hoping this weekend.”
“Really?” He nodded, and the corner of my lips tugged upward into the biggest smile. I couldn’t contain my giddiness. I ran around the cart and threw my arms around Jimmy. “You’re the best.”
“I know,” he agreed with a cocky smirk. “I see my grandparents Thursday. If all goes well, we can be driving up there after classes on Friday.”
“On the drive, you can listen to me recite my presentation for Art History. I have to present on Tuesday.”
“Only if for the rest of the trip I have control of the radio.”
I tapped my chin and rolled my eyes up as if I was in deep thought. “Deal,” I finally said and held my hand out to shake on it. Jimmy gladly accepted. “Just do me one favor.”
“What’s that?” Jimmy asked.
“If I mention Beckham even once, hit me over the head with the closest object you can find. I don’t want to think about him at all this weekend.”
Jimmy gave me a weird look, but it was a strange request, so I understood his hesitation.
“No Beckham talk. Got it,” he said, but for some reason I got the feeling that he knew that was never going to happen.
I would prove him wrong. I’d be strong. From the minute I got in the car on Friday, Beckham would no longer exist.
Chapter 8
Kennedy
Friday’s classes seemed to never end. I couldn’t wait to get in Jimmy’s car, and disappear for the weekend. I hadn’t seen Beckham since our kiss at the club, but still knowing I could bump into him at any minute, was nerve wracking. I didn’t want to have to think about where I was walking and at what time. I wanted to be free to move about without panic that I’d bump into him.
The professor wrapped up his lecture, and I had my notebook closed and in my hand before his last sentence was even out.
“Have a good weekend, folks,” he said, and I took off for the door.
I headed straight to my dorm to grab my bag and then meet Jimmy in the parking lot. In twenty minutes, I’d be on my way to paradise. As I walked, I checked the weather on my phone. Severe thunderstorms were going to be coming through the area late in the evening, but would break way to sunshine midday Saturday. Fine by me. We didn’t have any plans for tonight other than eating ice cream and binge watching 90’s movies.
I made it to my dorm in eight minutes. I think it was a new record for me. I swung the door open, grabbed my bag, and raced down to the parking lot. Jimmy had asked Erica if she wanted to come, but there was some poetry reading at the coffeehouse tonight she didn’t want to miss.
Jimmy leaned against his Prius, and I skipped toward him. “Time to get this party started,” I called out.
He reached into the car, and cranked up the radio. He grabbed my hand, and spun me around. My bag slid off my shoulder, and I let it fall to the ground as I continued twirling. A few people walked by, and looked at us like we lost our freaking minds, but for the first time in a few days, I felt like I finally found it.
“Did you pee?” he asked as I came to a stop.
I lifted my eyebrow. “Yes, Dad.”
“I’m just saying, once we start going, I’m not stopping.”
“You said it’s only two hours. I think I can handle it.”
“Just checking,” he sing-songed before tossing my bag into the backseat, and then jumping in the driver side. I stuck my tongue out at him, and then went to my side of the car.
“So, what’s the town like?”
“What town? We’re seriously going to be in the middle of nowhere. There’s the lake and a few neighbors. Other than that, the closest store is thirty minutes away.”
“Sounds like the start of a low budget horror movie.”
“They haven’t found any bodies in the lake for at least a few years now,” he said, and I swiveled in my seat, eyes wide with fear.
“Bodies?”
“Poor Sally Peterson. Such a sweet girl. May she rest in peace.” He made the sign of the cross, and I was seriously ready to jump out the car. I didn’t care that we were going sixty-five on the highway. I was all for being in the wilderness, but being in a ghost-infested lake town? No, thank you. A smile spread across his face. “I’m kidding. You are so damn gullible.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Am not.”
“Am too. You were two seconds away from me turning this car around so you could go hide under your bed.”
“No more ghost stories.” I gave him puppy dog eyes and pouted my bottom lip.
He flicked my lip and laughed. “Does that really work for you?”
It worked with Beckham all the time. He always tried to pretend it didn’t affect him, and then a few moments later, he gave in. I guess I just assumed it would work with everyone.
“Sometimes,” I answered.
“Probably because you look so damn pathetic.”
Is that why it worked with Beckham? Did he think I was some sad pathetic little girl and he felt bad for me?
Jimmy put his hand on my head and shook it. “I thought this was a no Beckham weekend.”
“It is.”
“Then stop thinking about him.”
“I’m not.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar?”
“How did you even know that I was thinking about him?”
“Because you always get this look in your eye when you do. It used to be a happy sparkle, but lately it’s been less sparkle, and more sad and dull.”
I shrugged, not because I didn’t know what to say, but because he was right. It wasn’t just my eyes that were sad and dull, it was my entire being. I never thought missing someone so much could completely drain you.
“Have you talked to him?” Jimmy asked.
“No.”
“Maybe—”
I held my hand up, cutting off his words. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Talking about it only made me sad, and that was the last thing I wanted. I wanted this weekend to be fun and happy. I wanted to pretend Beckham didn’t exist.
Taylor Swift came on the radio, and I leaned over and turned it up. Jimmy didn’t push the topic. Instead, he scooped up his cell phone from the center console, and sang into it like a microphone.
We spent the rest of the ride singing and laughing. This was exactly what I needed. Two hours later, we turned down a road that brought us into the woods. Jimmy made a few more turns, and we pulled up in front of the cutest cottage with dark siding and lots of windows overlooking the lake.
I got out of the car, and stared across the serene water to the beautiful trees that were slowly starting to shed
their green leaves for vibrant reds, yellows and oranges. The sun was setting, disappearing into the horizon, mixing streaks of pink with blue.
It was absolutely breathtaking.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Jimmy said, coming up behind me, and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“Gorgeous.”
“Come on, let me give you the tour of the house.”
I followed Jimmy inside, and glanced around the cozy living room. A fireplace sat in the middle of the room, and I couldn’t wait to get a fire going. I just hoped Jimmy knew how to make one because, other than Duraflames, I had no idea how to get one going.
Whenever I went camping when I was younger, Nix and Beckham always were in charge of the fire. I always stayed with Mom and pretended to help setup the sleeping bags while she did all the work.
“Oh, crap. I forgot something in the car. I’ll be right back,” Jimmy said, and headed back out the front door.
I continued to scan the room, taking in the warmth of the house. A large light brown sectional sat to the far left and across from it closer to the fire place was an oversized recliner that I imagined spending my night in cuddled up in a blanket.
“It’s pretty awesome, isn’t it?”
My heart stopped at the sound of his voice. I was imagining it. Had to be. Why would he be here? My mind was playing tricks on me.
I spun around, and was faced with the one person I was hoping to forget about this weekend. His hair was pulled back, and his beautiful hazel eyes were intent and focused on me. He looked amazing in a white t-shirt and grey hoodie that fit snuggly around his biceps.
Desire coursed through me, but I let the anger push it aside. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded.
“I just want to talk. You didn’t give me any other choice.”
“Too bad for you. I don’t want to talk. I’m leaving. Goodbye, Beckham.”
I ignored the urge to run into his arms, and ran out the front door instead. As I came to a stop in the driveway, I watched as Jimmy drove away. He rolled his window down, and a sorry floated out as he disappeared into the early evening.
Fuck. I threw my hands up in the air. What the hell was I going to do now?
Chapter 9
Beckham
It’s not that I expected Kennedy to welcome me with open arms, but I honestly didn’t think she’d run out the damn door. Nor did I think she’d start walking down the dirt road. Her blonde hair trailed behind her as she stomped down the road, her tight ass swaying with each step.
I ran after her, jogging up beside her when I finally caught up to her. I wrapped my hand around her wrist. “Where are you going?”
She snapped her hand away from me. “Home!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Didn’t you pay attention on the way here? The closest store is thirty minutes away. And some of these houses look like the backwoods, and God only knows what you’ll find behind those doors.”
“I’d rather take my chances than spend another second here with you.”
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t. I’ve had my share of drama to last me a lifetime, thank you very much. So if you excuse me, I’m going to go on my way.”
“It’s getting dark. Pretty soon it’ll be pitch black, and you won’t be able to see where you’re going. And I heard a storm is rolling in.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, I do.” Arguing with Kennedy could last for hours, and I was losing my patience. So, I cut the argument short and grabbed her, throwing her over my shoulder.
“Put me down, you ogre.” She punched my back and kicked violently, but I locked my arms on her thighs and kept walking. It felt good to have her in my arms, even if she was resisting the entire time. I would take what I could get at this point.
“I tried doing it the nice way. You gave me no choice.” She squirmed more, and I just held her tighter.
“You can fight all you want, you’re not getting away from me.”
“Is that what you tell all the girls?”
She meant to hurt me with her words, but I shook it off, and laughed instead. “Only the feisty ones,” I joked.
Her struggle calmed and her body relaxed against mine. “I hate you,” she whispered into my back, and those words hurt most of all.
I didn’t respond, pretending those words never left her mouth. We made our way back to the house in silence. The house came into view, and it began to lightly rain. I walked up the driveway, and right to the front door, refusing to put Kennedy down before we were safe in the house.
I locked the door and finally let her down.
“Kennedy,” I said, ready to tell her everything. Prove to her that I wasn’t the guy she thought I was because I wasn’t. Deep down, she had to know that.
I smiled at her, but instead of smiling back, sitting down, and listening to what I had to say, she went right to the master bedroom and locked the door.
Chapter 10
Kennedy
I was going to KILL Jimmy. Actually, no. Killing was too nice for a treacherous asshole. He deserved something much worse than death. I wasn’t exactly sure what that was, but I had an entire weekend to sit in this room and think about it, because there was no way in hell I was walking out this door so Beckham could smirk sexily at me, making me forget about why I’m avoiding him.
It’s not even the fact that he got another girl pregnant, though that isn’t exactly sitting well, but it’s the fact that he just got up and abandoned his own child. The reason he was always at my house and with my family was because his father didn’t give two shits about him. He was never around, and, when he was, Beckham got on his nerves, so he gave Becks money to leave him alone. He never said it out loud, but it was obvious the way his father treated him cut deep. He knows what it’s like to be neglected. To not know the love of a father, and yet he was willingly doing that exact same thing to his own child. That was something I couldn’t look past.
We were young, but God forbid, I got knocked up. Would he run from me and our unborn child too? What hurts the most is that I thought I knew him. And not just the Beckham he came across as to everyone else, but the real Beckham. The guy who liked to stay up late watching crappy movies with me, who liked to talk for hours, and loved nothing more than me running my fingers through his hair. The guy who brought peace offerings every time we had a fight, and who wouldn’t take go away as an answer.
I curled up on the bed, tugging the folded quilt at the foot of the bed around my shoulders. Beckham hadn’t even knocked since I came in here. I honestly believed he’d put up more of a fight. I almost wanted him to. Moments like that showed me he cared, and made me think that just maybe I really did know him.
Thunder roared in the distance, and I pulled the blanket tighter. There was nothing I hated more than a thunderstorm. They were Mother’s Natures way of scaring the shit out of me. Normally, I’d pop some headphones in, and let the music wash the haunting sounds away, but I was trapped in this room that didn’t even have a TV.
A loud thump came from the living room, and I wondered what Beckham was doing. I didn’t have to wonder for long because, a few minutes later, he knocked at the door.
“Kenny, I started a fire,” he said, his voice strained with frustration. Good.
“That’s nice.”
“You can’t stay in there forever.”
“You want to make a bet?”
“You’ll have to use the bathroom at some point.” Dammit, I didn’t think about that.
“I think I’ll survive.”
The thunder grew louder, a hard rumble followed by a deafening crackle. My body jolted at the sound, and I closed my eyes, praying it would pass quickly.
“Ken, I know how much you hate thunderstorms. Let me in, and stop being ridiculous.”
Wind picked up, causing the tree branches to smack the window, and I swear to God, it sounded like fingernails scraping across the glass. A vision of poor Sally
Peterson, bloated and grey with long straggly hair popped into my head.
A forceful thump came from the other side of the door. “Dammit!” Beckham yelled, and I assumed his frustration finally came out.
I gathered my legs, pulling them close to my chest. I was fine. Sally Peterson didn’t even exist. It was all made up. Besides, nothing would happen to me. It was just a storm, and I was safe inside, far away from the elements.
I got up from the bed to prove to myself that I could handle this. It was just a storm and I wasn’t a child. There was no reason to be scared.
Another pulse-stopping boom shook the house, and a flash of light so blinding, I was seeing stars, lit up the entire room, and then everything went black.
A scream tore from my mouth as panic set in. I lost awareness of my surroundings, and had no idea where I was in the room.
Beckham banged on the door. “Kenny, you okay?”
“Fine,” I managed.
“Bullshit. Open the fucking door.”
I wanted to so bad. I was done hating him. Done doing whatever we were doing. I was scared, and I needed him. I moved toward where I heard his voice. My foot hooked on something, and before I could stop myself, I went down with a glass shattering crash.
Chapter 11
Beckham
“Kennedy!” I yelled as the sounds of shattering glass traveled through the closed door.
She screamed again, but this time was different. It wasn’t a “she’s scared of thunder” scream. It was a scream of pain.
I banged on the door, turning and twisting the knob. “Kennedy! Are you okay? Answer me, dammit.”
“Ow,” was all I heard. Fuck this. She was hurt, and she needed me. I wasn’t wasting another goddamned second. I took a few steps back, and then ran at the door with my shoulder. It broke open, as a flash of lightening lit up the room, and I could see Kennedy, slumped on the floor, surrounded by broken glass.
