by Marci Fawn
His mother leaves the kid on the couch and moves towards the door.
No, no, no. River needs to answer. River.
His mom opens the door, her smile growing taut as she realizes it is me.
Just me.
She’s never been hostile towards me, but I can tell she sees me as a child. Not the girl for her son, if anything.
His father prefers me. Hopefully.
Is she going to tell me that River doesn’t want to see me anymore, that he–?
“River isn’t home, sweetheart.” Her smile is more genuine now, her eyes tired as she picks up the toddler that has crawled to her. She bounces the boy on her hip.
Oh.
“Okay, can I wait for him? Or maybe come back later? He won’t be long, right?” The words are just pouring out of my mouth and I finally manage to shut myself up. I can’t help asking about him. I need to bring her into the conversation, someway, somehow… God, I am so awkward.
“How are you, Mrs. Xavier? Are you okay?” From the way her eyes crinkle as if she is ten years older, I can tell she isn’t okay.
“I’m alright,” she says, smiling again. “Just tired. Motherhood does that, you know.” She leans into me like she is telling me a secret. “Children aren’t for everyone, Faith.”
I nod. I’m not really thinking of having any for a long time. Definitely not now.
But she hasn’t answered my questions about River!
I plead with my eyes as she talks, waiting for her to get to what I so desperately need to hear.
Over Mrs. Xavier’s shoulder, I see her husband. He waves at me sadly, like he knows something I don’t. There’s something weird going on here. Neither of them are mentioning River, my River… Where is he?
“River left, sweetheart.” Mrs. Xavier finally drops the bomb.
And I instinctively know she means it. He is gone, not he’ll be back in a while after getting groceries or helping out a neighbor, like he used to do, but he is gone… Forever.
“Uh huh,” her husband nods. He walks over to the door and gives me those sad puppy eyes. He looks tired as well. Downtrodden.
“Signed a contract. Left today. Real proud of him. He’ll be far away now, though. He hasn’t told you, Faith? He’s known for over a year.”
“Oh, I… See.” I pause, my eyes threatening to spill over. I am still just his childhood best friend he hasn’t seen in a while to them. They can’t know how much this hurts me. I pause, catching my breath, waiting for my voice to come back. “No, he didn’t tell me. He’s known for a year?”
His dad nods sadly and I can see the pity in his look. It pisses me off.
“When will he be back?” I smile, but it’s more like I’m just gritting my teeth. God, he could be gone for weeks. And he never told me… despite spending all night with him. Despite the way we connected.
“I don’t know, honey,” Mr. Xavier says, ruffling my hair as if I were one of his boys, not the girl his son loved. “The contract’s signed for two years. But he’ll be back for the holidays! I’m sure he’d love to see you come Christmas?”
It’s May.
It’s fucking May.
And no one knows if he loved me or not. Not even me.
I nod again. I’m holding my emotions in check. I have to, at least until I get off the Xaviers’ property. I feel so numb. “Where’d he go?”
“Missouri, for now,” the lonely pride is back in Mr. Xavier’s voice. “Knew he could do it. He’ll be travelling all over the states – River Xavier the professional boxer! One of the youngest, too. He’s nineteen now, you know.”
I know. I celebrated his birthday with him yesterday, bonded with him more than I ever thought possible… And it was probably the last time I’ll ever get to see him.
I nod a final time. “Well, thank you,” I say.
And this time, I can’t hide my voice breaking. I can’t stop the tears from spilling over.
I break out into a sprint back to my house, across the Xaviers’ perfectly manicured lawn, which River won’t be mowing anymore. I don’t even hear the sound of their door clicking shut as my head rumbles like a storm is passing through it and tears cloud my eyes.
I sit on the tile.
At first, I think I feel sick because I miss River. He called me. The conversation was awkward as hell.
I didn’t let him explain. Couldn’t let him cut another scar in the remains of my heart.
I promised to call back, knowing I wouldn’t.
He calls me more times, and I ignore every single call. Now, the days since we last talked have turned to weeks. My heart hasn’t gotten better.
If anything, it has gotten worse. Sicker. He came to my door one day, when he came home to pick up some things he forgot to pack.
Daddy told me he waited on the porch for hours.
I didn’t even leave my room.
Physically, I feel so different, and it has only been weeks.
The toilet is cold against my lower back as I slouch in front of it. I look down at the test I’m holding in my hand, feeling a tear stream down my eye, past my cheek, down onto my chest.
It only took that one time.
I love him… But he destroyed me. He can’t know.
I need to move on, to get over him. He will not be the last.
But he is my first.
I need to be strong. I can’t turn my love for him to hate.
No one knows about us. No one knows anything happened between us, although I think my dad guessed. Things still haven’t gotten better for us, house-wise. Not yet, anyway. But daddy assured me they would.
The house next to us is empty now.
The Xaviers have gone on the road so they can keep up with their star son.
When they said they’d help our family in times of need, they meant it. They left us some of the money from when they sold their property. My father tried to stop them. I saw the conversation through my bedroom door that I’d left ajar.
He couldn’t convince them to take their money and leave. They knew about our problems. I knew, too. We were so close to losing the house. We probably would, if it weren’t for the Xaviers’ kindness.
A new family will be moving in soon. “Befriend them,” the Xaviers said.
I’ve only seen the inside of my room for weeks, besides school. I quit debate club. I won’t be able to go back now. I ruined my chances with Jason, definitely.
Who would take me like this? No one.
I don’t know who to tell.
Definitely dad. Maybe Sabrina.
Never River. Absolutely not River. He has hurt me too much, and he is too focused on his boxing career. There is no way he would – or could – come back. But…
My body slouches forward as I look at the pregnancy test. It isn’t the first one I’ve taken, going to a drugstore two cities away so no one would find out about my suspicions.
The tests all line up on the bathroom tile beside me, telling me everything I already know, even though I was hoping that one of them would give me a different answer, the one I answer I wanted to run with.
But none of them did.
God, I am so stupid.
Positive.
All positive.
I’m pregnant, alone and heartbroken. But this baby is the only piece of River I have left…
42
River
She isn’t fucking answering her phone.
I don’t know why I bother calling. She isn’t going to see me. I want to see her! Fucking. Christ. I even used my first paycheck to go all the way there, tell her I love her, let her know how much she means to me. That if she wanted, when I got back from this tour, we could get married. I’d take her with me. Anywhere.
She doesn’t want to see me.
I throw my weight into the punch, slamming my fist against the punching bag. Almost did it the wrong way… Could’ve broken my hand. I don’t give a fuck. I hit it again. Then again. Then a third time, throwing all my rage and frustration into the
bag until my body is so fucking exhausted I can barely stand anymore.
And then I keep going.
Fight.
Fuck.
Sleep.
Repeat.
Just another day in the life of River Xavier.
But I hadn’t just fucked Faith. She meant so much more than that to me. Did she think otherwise? How could she think she meant anything else?
I grit my teeth so hard my lower lip gets caught in it. I ignore the bleeding, punching the bag again. Maybe I can trick myself into thinking the blows will solve my problems.
They won’t.
I’m looking at the punching bag in front of me, but I know I threw my gym pack somewhere in a corner earlier. My phone’s in it. Her number’s engraved in my head.
I should call her again.
Don’t fucking do it, Xavier. Don’t be a dumbass.
“Cool it, Xavier, you don’t need to be that nervous about your first fight,” Coach Daniels comes up behind me, smacking my back a few times for good measure. “You’ll do great.”
That isn’t it at all. But if Coach needs something to make me feel better about, something to keep him from asking fucking annoying personal questions, so be it.
“Doubt it,” I grunt. The words are fake. The frustration behind them isn’t.
Faith Collins.
She isn’t gonna be Faith Xavier.
Goddamnit!
I hit the bag again.
“Hey,” Coach Daniels grabs my fist as I rear back to hit the bag again, and I swear – if I didn’t have to work with him, I’d probably hit him, too. But he’s older and experienced, and he’d block it anyway. He has taught me everything I know. And he’s my friend, and it wouldn’t be right. I breathe heavily. “You sure this is about your first match?”
“Yeah.” Keep it short, River. You’re not going to be able to hide this if you get chatty. “I’m good. Ready to kick ass.” I throw Coach my trademark grin, telling him I am okay.
“Well, all right, then,” he lifts his hand as if he is going to pat my back again, but thinks better of it.
Good. I can’t take that kind of comfort right now. I just want Faith in my arms, but I’d probably fuck the hell out of her. I am pissed.
“Go get ‘em, tiger.”
Coach throws me my proper gloves. The ones I’m using now are for training only. Too worn. I’d hurt myself if I fought against someone with these on. Not that it mattered.
I don’t say anything about it, though. Just curtly nod. Strip my hands of the worn gloves – check – and throw the new ones on. Check. Fit in all the boxes, the perfect River Xavier. The bad boy. Rising from my fighting position on the training mat, I stretch.
Then, without a word, I walk out.
Crowds have never made me nervous. I smirk at the people surrounding the ring, trying to hide the indifference I feel, compared to how my heart pounds when I think about Faith. I wonder if I’m hiding it well at all. Or if they even give a shit.
A girl who looks to be a few years older than I am winks at me from the front row. Her hair is short and blonde. The opposite of my Faith. I don’t care if Faith considers herself mine anymore, or if she ever did. She is still mine.
I wink back at the chick, turning my attention from specific faces to the whole crowd and giving a wave to everyone as I pass.
No one seems particularly impressed.
I’m sure as hell not.
But maybe the crowd just seems empty because that is the way I feel. Looking around, there are signs, some cheering on the man I am fighting against, and some rooting for me – the newcomer.
I don’t give a fuck. I make my way through the crowd and up the ramp, swinging myself into the ring and waiting for my opponent to turn to face me.
He calls himself “the Devil.” Like I care. I size him up, getting a rush in my veins as I realize I could beat this guy, make a bitch out of him. We are both about the same height and he might be a little more muscular than I am, but nothing can hold a candle to my rage.
I feel my jaw tighten. I raise my fists to guard my face, waiting – wanting, so goddamn bad – to beat the shit out of this guy.
But first, the pleasantries.
The rules.
“The fight goes for three rounds, or until someone gets a knockout. If at any time you think you can’t take it, you can tap ou—“
Coach has run this through with me thousands of times. I am ready. I was born ready. I move my left leg slightly forward so I get the advantage, defending myself, attacking this bastard.
I know it won’t solve my problems.
But it will make me feel better.
Coach tries catching my attention from outside the ring, but I don’t even look at him. “Bettin’ on you, kid!” he yells. I nod curtly.
I am a jackass, not an asshole.
“Ready? Start.”
This douche can’t even get the drop on me before I slam my fist into his gut. There is no point in hits for play. I am going all out. Jab, cross. Jab, jab. Straight hit. The guy gasps as I rain blow upon blow on his flesh. I don’t stop.
Round two is harder.
He grabs me by the side, throwing me to the mat. Trying to get me out of the ring. My elbow slams into his stomach, freeing myself from him. I grab his neck with my hands and slam him down like he’d done me seconds earlier, bashing his head to the ground as he tries to free himself. He can’t. Doesn’t.
For a while.
I let him stand. Not to be nice, but because I want to watch this guy struggle to defend himself. To see his skin move as I hit him.
Jab. Cross, cross. Hit.
He taps out before round three. My breath is coming hard. I am almost growling as the ref takes my arm and raises it to the sky, like I had with Faith that day at the concert, announcing my win. The crowd erupts in cheers. So they don’t give a shit about who won. Just that someone did. Would the girls running at me now do the same for that sap I just beat?
Faith wouldn’t. She also wouldn’t accept a call from me if I threw another at her, so why bother?
Can’t think about that.
I have to get over her. And I know just how to do that.
A long-legged hottie with obviously fake red hair looks at me, pressing her arms together over her chair so I can see her tits. I eye them, looking at her from where she’s sitting in the front row. Then I call her over to the ring, helping her through the ropes as she stands up.
“Hey, doll,” I say, my eyes roaming her body. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Madeline.” She looks at my biceps, moving so I can see her ample rack even better than I could before. I don’t know how that could even be considered covered.
She is just a body.
“Maddy, babe.” I grab one of her sleeves, pulling it down a little so her tits almost fall out for the crowd’s pleasure. “You want to have some fun?”
She giggles. She does, of course. I don’t even know why I’m asking. Of course she does.
I feel my cock get stiff at the thought of her beneath me. Purely physical. Yeah, sex would be the way to get over Faith. This girl will just be the first.
The first of many.
43
Faith
I’m pretending to be angry at him. But I’m a different person than I was three years ago. He hurt me then. But now I have to pretend it’s all fine and perfect, like he never hurt me in the first place.
For Dawn.
That’s what I’d named her. She was a new chapter, a new day. My baby. And this is what is best for her. Maybe not for me, but for Dawn.
He can’t get close like that again.
“Congratulations,” he mutters.
He never used to mutter. That’s how I know he doesn’t mean it.
I lied. I’m pissed. How could he come back now, when everything’s going so well? When I needed him so much before? Didn’t he know how much I needed him before?
I doubt it.
I purse my lips in
a thin line like I used to when I was a kid, when all I had to worry about was stories and whether or not I’d make it through the school day. River had meant so much to me. He changed my life, forever.
Sometimes I wonder if he ruined it.
No…
Shut up, Faith. You helped him as an old friend, but that was it. He means nothing to you now. Less than nothing. In fact, you’re fucking pissed at him.
I move to the coffee table I grabbed the remote from, and pick a mug up. The coffee in it is lukewarm but I still bring it to my lips. I’d do anything right now for an excuse not to talk to him. I focus on the dregs of coffee at the bottom of the mug as opposed to the wounded look on his face.
Jason never looks at me like that. Jason is emotional, but he’d never do anything to hurt me. Unlike River.
“Whatever,” I mumble into my drink, hearing it echo back to me. I doubt River hears anything. I set the mug down, staring at him heatedly. It probably looks like hate to him. Good. “I have to go get Dawn.”
“Dawn?” he questions, stupidly.
We’ve both changed over the years. He must have gotten slower.
I roll my eyes at him, making sure he can see it. “My daughter, stupid. She has preschool to be getting to.”
Never mind that he and I met in preschool. The same thing had better not happen to Dawn. We’ll be moving more than my family, though. We’ve always been too stable, at least for my taste. But maybe I felt that way because I got so close to River…
I shake my head. “Stay where you are, and don’t break anything.” I resist the urge to throw something at him again, half because I actually don’t want him there and half because his lips aren’t crushing theirs to mine again. “And don’t you dare swear around my daughter.”
He looks like he is about to say something, his mouth opening in a half-want. I’m not sure if he is going to touch me or defend himself. It makes me want to slap him. I turn on my heel, no longer the awkward, shy girl I once was. That Faith might be buried somewhere deep inside of me, but around River?
