Stealing Sawyer

by Samantha Christy

  “He’s paying you to click with him, surely you must realize that. You are his fake girlfriend. He’s pretending to like you so he can stay with the Hawks. That’s all this is.”

  “I know. But sometimes I think maybe there’s more. He’s a baseball player, not an actor.”

  “His job is on the line. He will do anything to save it.”

  I nod. Everything Bass is saying is true. Everything he’s saying is what I tell myself each night before I go to bed. It’s what I tell myself every time Sawyer touches me.

  “I didn’t mean to fall for him,” I say. “I don’t want to feel this way. But my mom used to tell me that you can’t help who you fall in love with. That the heart wants what it wants.”

  “Love?” he says abhorrently. “You’re in love with the guy?”

  “I – I don’t know. Maybe not. Maybe I’m just infatuated with him and his celebrity and his money.”

  He shakes his head in disgust. “Since when have you given a rat’s ass about someone’s fame and fortune? Fuck, Penny, I can’t believe this.” He looks at his phone. “Damn it, we’re going to be late. We have to go. Let me get my jacket.”

  He goes back into his bedroom and I’m pretty sure I hear him say a few more choice words, and I can’t be sure, but I also think I hear him throw something against the wall.

  Thirty minutes later, Bass, Brooke and I arrive for graduation.

  “I can’t believe we’re graduating!” Brooke squeals, holding onto Bass’s arm. “Oh, and did I tell you I got a job?”

  “Congratulations,” I say. “What will you be doing?”

  “I’ll be working with the children’s symphony right here in New York.”

  “That’s fantastic,” I tell her. “I’m so glad you get to stay here. I know how much you like the city. Isn’t that great, Bass?”

  I have to nudge him.

  “What? Oh, yeah. Congratulations. Nice job.”

  He seems completely uninterested in her and oblivious to just how much she likes him.

  Brooke and I head back for the pre-ceremony instructions and Bass finds a seat in the auditorium. I can’t help being upset as I look around at the people arriving. So many people are missing. Mom. Dad. Denver. But I want to kick myself when I realize the one I miss the most is the person who cares about me the least.

  I’m not sure why I thought he would show up. Maybe it was all the groveling he did over the past week. I thought maybe he would come as a gesture of goodwill. But Bass is right. Sawyer Mills cares about one thing and one thing only – Sawyer Mills.

  “Come on,” Brooke says, hooking my elbow with hers. “Let’s go get our diplomas.”

  ~ ~ ~

  After the commencement speeches, my name is the first called as they hand us our diplomas in alphabetical order. I’m not nervous. I’m used to being on stage at Juilliard. But when I shake hands with the deans, my spine stiffens when I hear someone shout, “Way to go, babe!”

  I turn in the direction of the voice and see Sawyer, Brady, Caden, Murphy and Rylee standing up next to Bass as they all cheer for me. I realize in this moment how grateful I am to have more than one person in the audience clap for me as I cross the stage.

  Suddenly, my nerves hit and I become unsteady on my feet. I also feel bad for the next few graduates behind me, as Sawyer and his teammates have caused quite a stir in the auditorium.

  I look over at them as I make my way back to my seat. Sawyer looks good. Like Bass, he’s dressed for the occasion wearing a nice shirt and tie. He smiles seductively at me. I can’t help but smile back. Tingles work up and down my spine as he looks at me. I’ve missed looking at him. I’ve missed talking to him. I’ve missed touching him.

  I break our stare when I sit down. I promise myself I will remember what Bass said. Sawyer is not my boyfriend. He’s using me. He’s paying me. It’s not real. But then why does it feel like it’s nothing but?

  I fidget the entire time I’m waiting for the other graduates to make their walks. But it doesn’t take long as there are only a couple hundred – less than my high school graduation even.

  When it’s over, the president directs everyone to the reception hall. I find Brooke and then we find everyone else. Brooke has even fewer people here than I do. Unlike mine, her parents are alive. But they are off jet-setting around the globe and couldn’t be bothered to come home long enough to see their only child graduate from college. She’s never seemed that upset about it, however. I guess you get used to it after a while, growing up in boarding schools instead of in your parents’ home.

  Murphy and Rylee run over to hug me, offering me their congratulations.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” I say. “I thought Bass was going to be the only one clapping for me.”

  Rylee nods to Sawyer. “It was his idea that we all come.”

  “Really?”

  “I guess when he thought about it, he knew it was the right thing to do. Sometimes he just needs a little nudge in the right direction, but he’s a good guy, Aspen. I hope you know that.”

  I shrug. “Did he tell you what happened at the benefit?”

  “He did. I believe he’s telling the truth. And so do the guys. As far as we know, he’s never lied to them, so why would he start now? Women want him. They will do almost anything to get him. You should give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  Sawyer walks over to me and kisses me on the cheek. “Congratulations,” he says.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “I should have planned on it all along.”

  “Well, you’re here. And I appreciate it. But I’m sorry you had to change your plans.”

  He looks down at me. “I didn’t have plans with another woman, Aspen.”

  “Then why are you so secretive about it?”

  “There are just some things I don’t share with everyone. Not even Brady and Caden.”

  “Do you have a brother in prison or something?” I joke. “I can see you not wanting that to get out.”

  He laughs boisterously. “No, not a brother in prison. Just something I do for myself.”

  I look around to see many people staring at us. “What now?” I ask. “I’m sure you’ve seen the tabloids. We’re supposedly broken up.”

  He puts his arm around me and pulls me close. “Those rumors will be put to rest by midnight. And speaking of midnight, I’d like to go home with you tonight.”

  My heart races. He has no idea just how much I want to bring him home and have him in my bed. I dream about it. I fantasize about his hands on my body and my lips on his tattoo.

  I say the only thing I can. The only thing that will leave me with a shred of dignity. “No, Sawyer. I’m not sleeping with you.”

  “I know. You made that perfectly clear last Saturday. But we need to be seen sleeping over at each other’s places. You’ll have to get used to it sooner or later seeing as you’ll be moving in with me in a few weeks.” He reaches over and grabs two glasses of champagne from a tray, handing me one. “Come on, Aspen. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  I sigh deeply. How on earth am I going to manage living with the man if my heart beats this wildly just standing next to him? How am I going to handle being around him every morning and night when he’s not traveling? Will I go into his room and lie on his bed when he’s gone? Will I sneak a t-shirt of his and put it under my pillow so I can dream of him? Oh, God, will I see him in a towel when he gets out of the shower?

  “Aspen?”

  “Oh, sorry,” I say, composing myself. “I suppose you can sleep on the couch. Bass will be there of course.”

  “To protect you?” he asks.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Do you think you need protection from me?” he asks, looking guilty.

  “No. Not from you.” From myself, maybe.

  “What does that mean?” he asks, looking at me strangely.

  I ignore his question as Bass, Brooke, and Brooke’s roommate, Jordan join us. They are deep in conversa
tion.

  “Maybe you can post a sign for a roommate at the new freshman orientation this summer?” Jordan asks. “Surely there will be people who need a place to stay.”

  “Living with a freshman?” Brooke says. “I’d rather move.”

  “You need a roommate?” Sawyer asks.

  “Are you applying for the position?” Brooke jokes.

  “No, but I know someone who might.”

  Sawyer nods to Bass. “He’s getting kicked out of his building at the end of next month.”

  “I, uh, was looking to live with someone from fire school,” Bass says.

  “Have you found anyone yet?” I ask.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then why not take Brooke’s spare room?” I ask. “It’s in a good location. You’re both in need of a roommate. It’s the perfect solution.”

  Bass shoots me an annoyed look. I don’t know what the big deal is. Brooke is nice enough. He doesn’t have to date her if he doesn’t want to.

  “That would be great!” Brooke hollers. “It would be a huge relief. What do you say?”

  Bass looks at me and I nod in encouragement. I can practically see the wheels spinning in his head as he tries to think of a reason not to live with her. But he can’t.

  “Let me get back to you after I talk to a few of the guys that were looking into something,” he says.

  “Okay,” Brooke says, looking hopeful. “I promise I’d be the best roommate. I won’t play my cello too late at night.”

  I laugh. “Bass is the one who plays his guitar at all hours. You might want to soundproof his room.”

  He nudges me. “I thought you loved my guitar playing.”

  “I do. And I’ll miss it.”

  “Are you moving out of New York?” Brooke asks. “Is that why Bass needs to find another roommate?”

  Sawyer and I look at each other, just now realizing his blunder. We hadn’t yet announced to anyone that we were going to live together.

  “Uh, well we have to move out of the building because they are going to demo it and –” I try to think of a quick excuse.

  “Oh, my God, are you moving in with Sawyer?” Jordan squeals, looking between the two of us.

  Sawyer pulls me close and kisses my forehead. “It’s fine,” he says to me and the others. “We weren’t going to tell anyone for a while, but yes.”

  “But I thought you broke up,” Jordan says.

  “Don’t believe everything you read,” Sawyer tells her. Then he raises his glass. “Since the cat is out of the bag, I guess we have a lot to celebrate,” he says, loudly. “I’d like to make a toast.”

  Several groups of people surrounding us stop talking and turn around to listen to Sawyer speak.

  “I’d like to toast this incredible woman standing next to me. At twenty-three, she’s been through a lot, yet here she is graduating from one of the most prestigious music schools in the world.” He takes in a deep breath and winks at me. “It’s no wonder I’m in love with her.”

  What. The. Fuck?

  Gasps are heard all around us and I think I hear Bass choke on his drink.

  “So lift a glass with me and drink to Aspen Andrews,” Sawyer says.

  “Here here!” many people say as they all take a drink.

  Then it feels like the room goes completely silent. He’s stunned them. He’s stunned me. The difference is, most of them think this is real.

  Sawyer leans down and kisses me. Then he whispers, “This is when you say it back. Everyone’s listening.”

  “I – I love you, too, Sawyer,” I say with shaky words that may have just been barely loud enough for those standing around us to hear.

  People erupt in cheers. Snapshots and videos of us are being taken from dozens of cameras. No doubt his toast – and thereby his declaration of love for me – will be on YouTube, TMZ and probably ESPN by night’s end.

  Then I realize how pathetic I am. I’ve just said the truest words I’ve ever spoken, yet this is all a lie.

  “I can’t believe you just did that,” I say so only he can hear.

  “Had to redeem myself after the shitstorm I caused last weekend.”

  “I thought you said it wasn’t your fault.”

  “It wasn’t, but I still needed to do damage control.”

  He leans down and kisses me again. I let him. Of course I let him. I melt into him. I let him wrap me in his arms and hold me.

  And as he holds me like I’ve dreamed of being held, it dawns on me that just like my brother has, I’ve been handed a sentence. I’m sentenced to five more months of torture being in the arms of the man I love who will never love me back. And Sawyer’s house will be my prison.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Sawyer

  “I know you love baseball,” she says. “And if that’s your dream, I want it for you. But remember to be kind, Sawyer. Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. If you do that, everything else in your life will fall into place.”

  I nod my head. “Okay, Mom.” But I know she’s lying. Things don’t work out that way. She’s the kindest person I know, but even at ten years old, I know her life didn’t ‘fall into place.’ I may be young, but I’m not stupid. I know how things are.

  “Do you remember the story of the caterpillar?” she asks.

  I do. She’s told it to me a dozen times. But I want her to tell it again, so I shake my head.

  “Baby caterpillars eat and eat and eat. They stuff themselves with leaves and get as big as they can. Then they find a safe place, usually on a stick, and they make a cocoon. Inside the cocoon, they go through a transformation. The caterpillar dissolves into a soupy substance and then rebuilds itself into a new body. But this transformation is not easy. It has to struggle. And it becomes exhausted, because apparently becoming a butterfly is hard work. But then something wonderous happens, it emerges from its cocoon as a beautiful creature with colorful wings. And it can fly. It can go anywhere and do anything. It becomes free.”

  She squeezes my hand extra hard and she starts to cry. It looks like she can’t breathe very well.

  “Mommy, are you okay?”

  “I’m going to be a butterfly soon, my sweet boy. So I never want you to worry about me. I’ve had my struggle and now I’m going to get my wings. I’m going to be free.”

  I want to ask her what she means. I think maybe she’s confused. She’s said things today that don’t make any sense. But before I can ask her, the nurse comes in and tells me I need to leave for a minute.

  I go down the hall to the chapel where my dad likes to sit when he’s not in the room with my mom. I open the door and see him praying on the bench in the front. He knows how to pray because we go to church sometimes. But I don’t get why he’s praying. What does God have to do with any of this?

  I scoot onto the bench next to him and put my hands together and ask God to make Mommy feel better. Then I ask God to make Daddy sick in the hospital bed instead of her. But I know He won’t listen. He never does. I’ve prayed so many times that I ran out of prayers.

  I hear the doors open behind me and turn around to see a nurse nodding to my dad. Then Daddy cries out like someone just hurt him. He grabs my hand and pulls me back to Mommy’s room. But when I get there, she’s lying flat on the bed and her eyes are closed and she looks … different.

  Daddy walks over and collapses down onto her. I worry that he will hurt her, but when he gathers her into his arms, she still doesn’t move. Her arms are like those of a rag doll. He cries into her hair.

  The nurse comes up next to me and pulls me to her. “I’m so sorry,” she says.

  I wonder why she’s sorry.

  Then a man in a white coat walks into the room. I think he’s Mommy’s doctor. He makes Daddy put her down and he uses that thing around his neck that goes in his ears. He puts the other end over Mommy’s heart. He looks at me sadly before he glances at the clock on the wall and says, “Time of death: ten forty-three.”

  Death? I look around the
room to see everyone looking sad. My dad is still crying. I run over to Mommy to try and wake her up, but she doesn’t move and her skin isn’t warm like it usually is.

  The doctor puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, son.”

  I remember the TV show I saw last week where someone died. She looks just like that person did.

  Mommy died? She’s dead?

  I look at Daddy and get my answer. He looks awful. I’ve never seen him look so sad. My tummy starts to feel really bad and I need to get away from this. From him.

  I run down the hallway until I find the stairs. Then I run down the stairs and out the front doors of the hospital where I throw-up into the bushes. He doesn’t run after me. I’m glad he doesn’t. It’s all his fault and I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to go home with him. She was the only good thing about home. But I’m only ten. I know I don’t have a choice.

  I look around the parking lot. I’m not sure what for, a place to hide maybe. I see some kids like me, walking beside their mothers and it makes me cry even harder. I’ll never get to walk next to her again.

  And I’m mad at myself. If I had known when I saw her this morning that those were the last words I’d ever say to her, I would have made them better words. But I think she knew they were our last. She wouldn’t let go of my hand. She knew she was going to die and she didn’t tell me.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see something fluttering around. I turn to see a beautiful orange and yellow butterfly. It flies around the flowers by the sidewalk, then it flies around my head. It flies around my head for a long time. Then I watch it fly away. I squint hard and watch until I can’t see it anymore.

  Then I smile.

  I smile because Mommy is a butterfly.

  ~ ~ ~

  Hands on my body startle me and I lash out. Then I hear a cry and a thump. I sit up quickly and try to orient myself. I look around. I’m at Aspen’s. I look down at the floor and see Aspen in the darkness holding her cheek.

  “Fuck. What happened?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m okay. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you while you were sleeping. You got me with your elbow.”