“If he’s not an ex, what’s his deal?”
“I have no idea,” I whispered truthfully. I had to know what was going on in his head, though. I needed something, anything just to put an end to it once and for all. “Excuse me. I need to...” I scooted past the guy, careful not to touch him and lead him on any further. Once I was safe in knowing the guy wasn’t going to follow me, I made my way over to the far side of the bar where Jake was standing…or should I say, propping himself against the bar.
I took the spot beside him, resting my elbows against the wooden surface as I leaned forward. “You’re back?” I stated, which came out more like a question than an actual statement.
“Gold star for pointing out the obvious.”
Okay, I asked for that.
“I didn’t think you were coming back yet. The newspapers said that—”
Jake cut me off by raising both of his perfect dark brows. “You of all people know not to believe everything you read in that shit.”
He was right. Even so, I couldn’t hide the way my body tensed at hearing that. I would never live it down. Not ever. I’d destroyed Lola’s world when I’d handed that incriminating article out. I practically told the whole of our college that she’d killed her boyfriend by driving recklessly while she walked away from the accident unscathed. She hadn’t. She was a mess. Her guilt had swallowed every memory she’d had of him and their life together before the accident. But Lola had what I wanted and could never have: Taylor’s heart. Jealousy is an ugly trait and it consumed me, had me acting out, inflicting pain on two people who were already suffering. I’d been paying the price ever since.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply before I opened them again. “I didn’t come here for an argument, Jake.”
“That’ll be a first.”
“Seriously?” I rolled my eyes. “You’re really going back there? I said I was sorry, Jake. Besides, that was a long time ago. I’m different now.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “Ever heard that saying, Mel? A leopard never changes its spots.”
“Leopards, no, but people can change. And from where I’m standing, you don’t appear to be the same person you were when you left, either. What happened to you?”
“The same thing that happens to all of us.” He shrugged.
“And what’s that?”
“Life, Mel. Life happens.”
I shook my head. “That’s not true. We control our own lives. Our own happiness is down to us. If you don’t like something, change it. Don’t use life as an excuse to be an arse.”
Jake laughed into the glass topped with brown liquid before placing it back on the bar. He turned his body sideways to face me, and I fought to keep my eyes open and my breathing normal as he gazed at me intently. The softness I knew too well was somewhere in there, hidden in the depths of his cold brown eyes. I knew it. I just couldn't seem to find it.
Jake lifted a hand and began to rub at his jaw line. It was then I noticed the light stubble that had formed there. It was different. He looked mature… and dangerous. He must have caught me staring because he cleared his throat, bringing my eyes back to his.
“So, what’s your excuse, Melanie?” he said in an even tone. I could’ve sworn I saw a ghost of a smile in his expression, but who knew? This wasn’t the Jake I remembered.
When I realised I still hadn’t answered his question, I shrugged. “Some people are just lost causes.”
Jake frowned and I knew then that this conversation wasn’t going to go the way I hoped it would. Deep wasn’t exactly my thing, and besides, the man in front of me no longer cared what I had to say or how I felt. I inhaled and slowly released the breath before doing what I should have done when I’d realised that Jake was there. Leave.
4
I watched Mel leave, and for the first time since I’d been back, I felt like I could breathe, all while her words continued to echo through me. She never had been one for logical thinking, but even I couldn’t deny that, for once, she’d been right. I had to get my shit together and fast. Only that was easier said than done. I was stuck in limbo, waiting on a call that may or may not even happen, while I pretended to play happy families with my arse of a father.
There was a time when I hardly ever saw him from one month to the next. Back when my life had been relatively normal. Now, though, he was home more often than he was away, and I had to keep coming up with excuses as to why I couldn’t make it home on the weekends.
Staying away was the best thing for me. Doing so meant I didn’t have to face him or keep up the never-ending façade. Granted, crashing on my teammate Tanner’s couch wasn’t exactly an ideal situation for a twenty-one-year-old guy, but it was better than facing the shit-show back home.
I threw back the rest of my Jack and Coke and shivered at the thought of being back home for good.
The few times I had gone home for the weekend had been more awkward than I could handle. Forcing conversation as Mum, Dad, Taylor and I sat around the dining table, eating the roast dinner my mum had spent three hours slaving over when it was the last thing she’d wanted to do, wasn’t my idea of fun. Even worse was watching my father paw all over Taylor as if he were the greatest thing to ever grace the Earth. Taylor lapped it up. He’d grown up with that kind of father-son relationship—one where his father took the time to ask how his day was and how he felt about signing a new deal for the season. Tom loved Taylor, and Taylor had once idolised his father. When Taylor and I were kids, his dad was all he ever spoke about. Well, him and football. So when Tom was sent to prison and Taylor’s life spiralled out of control, he had been lost, craving the relationship that he once had. Taylor had taken it hard at first, struggling to understand that we shared the same father. But he quickly fell into the familiar relationship with my dad and they’d been going strong ever since.
I was happy that Taylor had a father in his life again; his real father this time. But did it have to be my father? Even though he was technically his, too, it still seemed unfair to me. That shit was far too fucked up for me to stick around and deal with. When I'd found myself switching off during family dinners, letting the conversation float around me without knowing who was speaking or what was being said, I'd decided that it was better for everyone if I wasn't around. But now, with my future at Winslow F.C. uncertain, I was officially out of excuses that made it okay for me to stay away.
A loud growl cut through the music and reminded me where I was. “I thought you were done with her?” Riley snarled as he watched Melanie push through the doors, out into the open air.
I grumbled some sort of incoherent noise. “We were just talking,” I told him.
He ordered a drink and turned his attention to me, his expression a serious one I knew all too well. He was judging me. And her.
“You’d be sane to keep it that way,” he finally said. “Nothing good ever comes from that. I should know.”
I shot him a look, raising both brows. “Yeah, you should.”
Riley and Melanie had slept together a couple of years back. It had been a one-time thing before he’d gotten serious with Brie—his now very serious girlfriend. When Brie had found out, she’d hit the roof and told him it was over between them. The breakup didn’t last long, though. They were in love, as it turned out.
Ignoring my obvious insinuation, he clasped a hand to my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re back, bro. It ain’t the same around here without you.”
I smirked. “I’m sure you’ve coped just fine,” I said, eyeing the leggy redhead approaching us.
As if sensing her presence, he looked back over his shoulder just as Brie slipped her arms around his waist and leaned in for a kiss. He smiled at the affection she was offering him. Brie’s forehead was damp with sweat, and her cheeks were flushed pink as though she’d been dancing for hours. She most likely had. Then she kissed Riley again, this time longer and with more passion than I was comfortable with.
I shook my head and gestured to the bartender
for another Jack and Coke. If I was going to have to deal with all this lovey-dovey shit all night, I needed to at least be on my way to that place where I didn’t care.
“Hey, superstar. Good to have you back. Finally…” Brie beamed, eventually pulling away from Rye. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten all about us while you were out living the dream.”
I grinned. “It’s only been a few months, Brie.”
“I know. It’s just… everything’s different now. Don’t you ever just wish you could go back? Do it all again?” she asked wistfully.
I shrugged. What could I say? Yeah, sure, I wanted to go back to when life was a breeze. When I didn’t have a brother and my father was still very much in my life. I couldn’t tell her that, though. It sounded bad enough in my head.
“We need to do this more often. All of us together again, just like the old days. Speaking of…” she said, twisting her head to the side. “Here they are!” She squealed.
Great. Just fucking great.
I didn’t have to look to know who she was referring to. My stomach instantly dropped when my suspicions were confirmed.
I sank the rest of my drink and tossed a twenty on the counter, swiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I gotta shoot,” I announced.
“Mate, you ain’t long got here,” Rye said. “And Tay and Lo are here now. You can’t leave.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve still got to unpack, though, and honestly, bud, I’m knackered. I’ve hardly slept for shit the last few days and I could do with an early night.”
Brie and Riley traded glances, a silent exchange between them. Before they could quiz me, I tucked my wallet in the pocket of my jeans and slipped past them. Only Taylor, having finally fought himself away from his adoring fans, gripped my elbow before I had the chance to escape.
He frowned. “You’re not going, are ya?”
“Sorry, mate. I’m shattered,” I said, hoping it was enough to convince him.
“Don’t be such a pussy. I haven’t seen my brother in months. You didn’t even call to say you were coming home. I had to hear it from Riley. You can’t go.”
I’d kill Riley if I didn’t love the kid so much.
“We’ll catch up tomorrow, I promise.”
“You better,” he said in a tone that said he was serious. I just nodded my head in return and flashed Lola a brief smile before I slipped past them and made my way outside.
5
Growing up, I was always taught to see the good in people and to treat everyone the same, like each person was this wonderful being created by God. Look for the positive instead of the negative, my grandma always used to say to me. Seeing the good in people was something I’d always admired about myself growing up. For the most part, I was a happy child, always finding ways to do good. Then everything changed. Shawn left me and I experienced heartbreak for the very first time. You see, losing someone you loved because you continued to see the good in them, even though you knew there was a darkness hidden in the very depths of their soul, wasn’t something you got over. Not ever.
Now I didn’t see the good in anyone. I was constantly aware of just how much people were capable of hurting you, of the darkness they held inside of them. I guess you could go as far as to say I was a much wiser person now. I saw the beauty in people, sure. But I also saw the ugly side to them that they tried desperately to hide. The stuff that people, like my parents, chose not to see. Maybe because of fear? Fear of public perception or the knowledge of knowing that once they discovered something new, something dark, nothing would ever be the same way again. Who knew? All I knew was that as a kid, I’d idolised my brother Shawn. In my young, naïve eyes, he could do no wrong, and like my parents, I had chosen to turn a blind eye to the truth—the bad stuff that surrounded his very soul, turning him into someone I barely even recognised. After all, we lived in Winslow, and drug addicts didn’t exist in Winslow. Scum that sought euphoria from the inside of a baggy rotted on the outskirts of town where crime, prostitution and getting high were common. Except, now I knew different.
Shawn had been loved by our community. He’d helped old ladies cross the street and was always willing to lend a hand to anyone else in need, even if that meant sweating like a pig during the summer holidays whilst he mowed the neighbour’s lawn. He’d do it. He was athletic and fit, participating in all sports activities, with football standing strong as his main passion. Typical. He rarely had any enemies, either. He had always been a good kid, but as the son of James Livingston, the town mayor, Shawn Livingston could do no wrong in the eyes of the community. A community that looked down their noses on the less fortunate and turned their backs on you quicker than you could say guilty.
My parents failed Shawn. They didn’t seek help for him because they feared being alienated from this community of ours, and I refused to acknowledge his drug addiction from fear of losing him. When my parents finally did right by Shawn and checked him into an expensive facility a few miles away from Winslow, it was way too late. He was too far gone.
If only they’d known that their actions—or lack of—would cost them both their children.
Shawn had just been released from the army when I first started noticing the changes in him. His erratic behaviour was unusual, and at first, I simply put it down to him adjusting back to normal life away from the army. But as time went on, I began to question what was really wrong with him. He was constantly on edge. I didn’t know much about drugs at that time so it never occurred to me that he could be hooked on something. If it hadn’t of been for Aubrie calling me one night, I might never have known. She was at a house party of a mutual friend and Shawn was there. She knew something was off immediately—he’d been so off of his face he hadn’t even tried to hide what he was doing.
At first, I convinced myself that Brie must have gotten the wrong idea. Shawn wouldn’t do that. I was too afraid to confront him, so I kept it to myself, hoping that Brie had, indeed, been wrong. Only it wasn’t long before I learned that I was the wrong one.
Some weekends, Shawn never came home. Other times he wouldn’t leave his room. Family dinners had always been fun growing up. He and I would fool around at the dining table while my parents complained that we were making too much noise, then we’d all fall into conversation about school and whether we had any homework that needed to be done that night. Shawn would always say no, that he’d already finished it. I knew different, though. As soon as dinner was over, he would leg it round to his friend Joel’s house and have him do it for him. But those fun, lively family dinners became something of the past as Shawn’s presence became non-existent. I would sit in silence, afraid to ask the questions that raced around my young mind. Where was Shawn? Was he okay? Would he be joining us for dinner? If he came home, would he be my brother, or the new version I didn’t like so much? My parents would also be sat in silence, my dad frowning at the empty place setting at the dining table, wishing for the noise that once flowed around the room. The rare occasions that Shawn decided to come home it was as if he wasn’t really there at all. He didn’t speak unless he absolutely had to, and the only noise that came from his mouth was the tail end of a deep groan. I knew that sitting at the dining table with his family was the last thing he wanted to do. I knew it and my parents knew it. But they never said anything. At least not while I was in the same room. When they thought I was out of earshot, I would hide on the stairs and listen in while they argued. Mostly they argued about money, but if things had gotten particularly heated, my father would bring up the drugs. Shawn denied he was using, and although we wanted to believe him, we knew he had a problem.
It started with lies, then the drastic change in his appearance. The lack of cleanliness of his clothes, and those dark circles framing his red, bloodshot eyes. Towards the end, those eyes became vacant ones. Those were the things that got to me the most. The empty stare that haunted my sleep even to this day. Emptiness. Lifeless. The weight started shifting dramatically after that, his appetite d
ecreasing as he struggled to keep even fluids down. Even seeing, knowing all of this, we continued to hope that his addiction would go away.
It didn’t. But Shawn did.
And soon after, my parents did, too. At least emotionally, anyway.
With Aubrie Harrison, my only true friend, nowhere to be seen and Shawn gone entirely, I had no one. I had no one to cling on to when I felt like following right behind him. No one by my side when I fought for air as my whole world was caving in on me. The only true friend I had on Earth, the one I knew was capable of saving me from the darkness that I had found myself in, had gone. Aubrie had deserted me when I needed her the most, without so much as a goodbye. One moment she was there. The next, she wasn’t. Much like Shawn.
Faced with the realisation that no one could be trusted, I learned quickly that I didn’t need anyone in my life and I would treat others how they treated me. I wouldn’t love again. No, I wouldn’t put myself in a position that could so easily end me. I would take life at face value. It was worthless, cold and dark. There was no happiness and nothing worth clinging on for.
I came close once, though. So close to breaking my own rule. Close to descending on my own journey to heartache and abandonment. Again.
The first time I caught a glimpse of him was at the sweet tender age of fifteen, when life had been relatively normal for me. It was at the annual garden party my parents had thrown that my life started to change, and I began to realise that boys were about to play a huge factor in my life. He had gone with his parents and cousin who looked around the same age as him. My father called them friends, but I knew different. My father didn’t make friends with anybody. He used them for his own benefit and kept them within reaching distance until he no longer needed their services. They weren’t his friends. Acquaintances maybe. Friends? No.
A Different Game: A Wrong Game Novel Page 3
