King of Campus

by Jennifer Sucevic

  My quietly uttered questions are like bombs dropping right in the middle of the table. Neither of us dare to move a single muscle as a thick stifling silence suddenly descends. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait to see what he’ll do. Part of me wonders if he’ll even bother answering them. We’ve never sat down and talked like this before.

  It’s not that we don’t just talk about my mom. We don’t talk period. Not about the things that actually matter. I didn’t just lose my mom when she died five years ago. I lost my dad as well. The easy relationship we’d always had changed. Became more distant. It was like the loss of my mother made it impossible to bridge the distance separating us. Leah only fractured it further. I don’t think that was ever her intention, but it was the end result nonetheless.

  Not saying a word, he lifts the beer bottle to his lips before taking a long pull. He practically drains the entire thing before gingerly setting it back down. Leah and the twins aren’t home. They’re at swim class.

  It’s just us.

  His voice sounds strung tight when he finally asks, “Are you sure you want to talk about all this, Ivy?”

  Biting my lower lip, I give my head a slight nod. I need to know. It’s been stuck in my head for the last five years. No matter what it is, I need to hear the truth from his lips before I can finally get over it. I’m so tired of feeling angry with the pair of them. Five years is a long time to be consumed with bitterness and resentment. It’s exhausting. And it’s no way to live your life.

  Breaking eye contact, he lowers his head before staring down at his fingers. “I guess I’d always hoped you would just move on. That we wouldn’t have to discuss it.” His gaze rises, suddenly piercing mine. The agony is clear within his deep brown eyes. “But you’ve never gotten over it.”

  “No.” I shake my head even though the answer couldn’t be more obvious to either one of us. “I couldn’t. It hurt too much. I need to know the truth of what happened, dad. Then maybe I can finally put it behind me where it belongs.”

  He nods as if that makes sense but still I can tell he doesn’t necessarily want to dredge up the past. A faraway look enters his eyes as he begins, “When I met your mother, we’d both just finished college and were looking for jobs. Once we got together, we were inseparable. We just fell for each other so quickly. She was it for me and I knew it within a few weeks of meeting her. After dating for about nine months, I proposed and we got married.” Still looking caught up in the past, the edges of his lips tip up just a bit. “We were happy. Especially after we had you. You were such a good baby. Such a joy to both of us.” He shakes his head. “Your mother would have had a whole houseful of kids, if she could have.”

  His words catch me off guard. I’m an only child. Well, before the twins I was… “She wanted more kids?” I don’t know why that surprises me so much, but it does. I’d never heard her mention wanting more children.

  Sorrow fills his eyes before he finally nods his head. “She did. We both did.”

  My brow furrows together and I can’t help but ask, “So why didn’t you?” It seems so logical. You want more kids? Then you have more kids. But they only had one.

  He inhales another deep breath before forcing it out as if what he’s about to reveal is still tender and painful. “We discovered your mom had something called fibroids when she was pregnant with you. After that, they got worse and eventually she had to have a hysterectomy.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat before adding, “Which is to say-”

  Holding up a hand, I cut him off. “I know what it means, dad. She had to have her uterus removed.” My heart actually clenches as I whisper, “Which means no more kids.”

  He shakes his head. “No more kids.”

  Feeling slightly dazed, I sit back, staring at my dad. “I never knew that had happened to her.”

  Shrugging, he uses his thumb nail to pick at the label on the brown glass bottle as he continues, “You were very young when it happened. I’m not surprised you don’t remember. And it was a very painful subject for your mom to talk about. She’d always wanted to have a big family but I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. So we contented ourselves with you. And I think teaching filled a part of that void as well. Being around all those kids. She loved them.” He actually smiles just a bit. “Even the mischievous ones.”

  My mom was a wonderful second grade teacher. Everyone adored her. She was warm and fuzzy but tough as tacks when she needed to be. She’d dedicated her entire life to working with children. Instilling within them a love for reading no matter what level they were at. I’d always admired how dedicated and passionate she was about her profession.

  When she finally had to stop working, so many of her former students and their parents stopped by the house to spend time with her. Colleagues she’d taught with for more than a decade would come by, dropping off knitted hats when she lost her hair because of the chemo. Or blankets because she would get so cold. They would bring books for her to read and old photos of her teaching in the classroom to laugh over.

  Yes, my mom loved me and she enjoyed the kids she taught at Harper Elementary School.

  But none of that explains how he could just move on from the woman he claimed to love after she lost her battle with cancer. “None of that helps me to understand what happened, dad.”

  His eyes flick away for just a moment before arrowing straight back to mine. “We were happy, Ivy. The three of us. We had a good life. It was devastating when your mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. It seemed to come out of left field. But I thought, okay- we’re going to beat this. She’s a fighter.”

  I hate thinking about that time. How hard the chemo was. How sick my mom would get. The failed treatment plans. Always living for the next test results. Always worried about what tomorrow would bring. And then sitting by helplessly as she slowly deteriorated. Becoming weaker. More frail. Until she was really just a pale shadow of the vibrant, outgoing woman she’d once been.

  He slides a hand roughly through his peppered hair as his eyes take on a glassy, faraway look before continuing softly, “It was so hard to watch. Hard to realize, and then finally accept, that the treatments weren’t working, that we were losing the battle.”

  My heart cracks wide open as I silently listen to him talk about such a difficult period in both our lives. But at least he’s talking about it now. At least he’s finally letting me in. Even though it hurts to discuss, I don’t feel quite so alone with my pain. Like I have to continue nursing it all by myself.

  “It was hard on all of us.” Clearing my throat, I finally whisper, “Mom included.”

  Eyes wide, he nods in agreement. “Of course it was. She lost her life. She’s missing out on seeing what a wonderful, smart, talented daughter she raised.”

  As soon as he says those words, my eyes flood with moisture.

  “After you’re mom died, I guess…” he gulps, “I guess I shut down. It felt too raw to deal with. I started putting in a lot of hours at work. It was hard being at home where everything reminded me of her. Of the life we had built together, the life we no longer had. It was just easier to stay away. And you were only fifteen years old at the time. I didn’t want to burden you with what I was feeling.” Pausing, he wipes some of the dampness from his own eyes.

  “Leah was just a colleague at that point. She was someone I had worked with for years. We weren’t close. A couple of weeks after your mom passed away, she came into my office and told me about her mother dying of cancer. As weird as it sounds, we had that loss in common. She could understand everything I’d been going through, all the grief and anger and depression. It was nice to share my feelings with her. To finally open up with someone who wasn’t involved in the situation.” He gives a tiny jerk of his shoulders. “I guess our relationship developed quickly from there.”

  All I can do is stare at him silently, trying to wrap my brain around what he’s telling me.

  Before I even have a chance to respond, he continues, “It’s hard for me to re
gret what happened because if Leah hadn’t ended up pregnant, we wouldn’t have the twins right now. But I also know that my relationship with her, and how swiftly everything evolved, was hard on you. And I’m sorry for that, Ivy. I really am. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant, we wouldn’t have had to move so abruptly. We could have taken our time.”

  His eyes hold mine and I can tell he’s trying to be honest about what happened. “Leah is a good woman and she makes me happy, she really does. Maybe us getting together didn’t happen the way it should have, but it happened nonetheless. I hope at some point in time, you’ll be able to accept that. The five of us, we’re a family.” He sucks in another deep breath before pushing out the rest of the words, “We may not be the family you want, but we’re the family you have. And we’ll always be here for you, Ivy. No matter what.”

  As he finally finishes, a thick silence settles over us as everything he just told me circles viciously around in my head. Honestly, I’m not even sure just how to respond. For so long I’ve been holding onto this deep well of anger I had for both Leah and my dad.

  Obviously Leah was an easy target to focus on. It felt as if she just moved herself right in and took over what used to be my mom’s role in this family. And that was a bitter pill to swallow. It put us instantly at odds.

  Although, thinking back now, I can’t say she ever tried acting like my mom. She always left all the parenting decisions to my dad. There were many times when she tried striking up conversations, but I was so full of grief and anger, I just couldn’t see past it. She tried telling me about the loss of her mom but, at that point, I just hadn’t been ready to listen. I hadn’t wanted to hear anything she had to say. I hadn’t wanted to have anything in common with her.

  What I know is that it’s been five years since my mother passed away and the loss of her still feels painful. The ache is still ever present. Some days it throbs more than others. Sometimes I think the pain of her death will never fade.

  Not completely.

  I want so badly to share all the details of my life with her. All the competition dance teams I made, prom, getting accepted to Barnett, going to Paris, falling in love with Roan, auditioning for Cincinnati…

  I miss her dearly.

  No one will ever fill that void within me.

  But I’m so tired of carrying around all this anger. It feels like I’m constantly hauling around ten heavy bags of luggage. It’s exhausting. And I know my mom wouldn’t want me living like that. She was always so positive and forgiving. I also think she would have wanted my dad to find love again. Maybe not as quickly as he did… But she would have wanted him to have more children. Kids she couldn’t have.

  That thought alone has a sob rising to my lips.

  In the blink of an eye, my dad is there besides me, taking me into his arms and holding me tightly against him. All the sadness and anger I’ve been holding onto for all these years finally breaks free. It’s just as powerful as a dyke bursting. I must sob in my father’s arms for a good fifteen minutes before I’m finally able to pull myself back together again.

  “I’m so sorry, Ivy,” he whispers harshly, “sorry I didn’t take more care with your feelings.”

  Pulling away, I swipe at my eyes with shaking fingers before grabbing a napkin from the silver holder sitting in the middle of the table. I dab at the wetness still clinging to my eyelashes before blowing my dripping nose.

  God, I hate crying.

  It’s never been a good look for me. I’m not one of those girls who cries pretty. Nope. Big noisy tears, red rimmed puffy eyes, splotchy looking skin and a runny nose...

  But I have to admit that it feels so good to finally purge myself of all this poison. My mom wouldn’t have wanted me hanging onto it. And more to the point, I don’t want to hang on to it anymore. Because at the end of the day, my anger won’t bring her back. And it hasn’t helped me to move on either. If anything, it’s probably impeded the healing process.

  “I want to be able to talk about her, dad. And this is the first time in five years we’ve actually sat down and done it.”

  Looking remorseful, he bobs his head. “I know… I know, you’re right. I’m sorry for that, Ivy. I didn’t handle her death well.” He looks down at his hands for just a moment. “I never planned on Leah getting pregnant when she did. It was completely unexpected. I’m just sorry for all the pain it’s caused you.”

  Biting my lip, I ask instead, “But you’re happy, dad?” Because that’s what seems to matter now. I want my dad to be happy. I really do.

  The edges of his lips finally tilt upward. “I am, Ivy. You, Leah, and the twins make me happy.”

  Emotion suddenly wells in my throat again. “I’m glad. Mom would have wanted you to be happy,” I whisper the words thickly because it’s my way of saying that I forgive him for what happened. I forgive him for everything. I don’t want to hold onto this anger anymore. I want us to move on and be more of a family than we’ve been in the past.

  “She would want you to be happy, too. She loved you so much, you were her everything.”

  “I know.” It feels so good to finally say the words out loud. Amazingly, I actually feel lighter for it.

  “And she would be so damn proud of you, of what you’re doing with your life. She would love that you’re following your dreams and not letting anything stand in your way.”

  Hearing him say that has my lips tipping up. “I hope so, dad.”

  “Oh sweetheart, you have to know that she would be absolutely thrilled with you getting a position with the Cincinnati Ballet. She would be bursting with pride. She always thought you had amazing talent.” He smiles. “Even when you were just three years old.”

  I can’t help but chuckle. My mom was my biggest champion. My loudest cheerleader. I suppose that’s why the loss of her was so devastating. It was like a light instantly being snuffed out within me. And then there was only darkness. “Thanks for saying that.”

  “It’s the truth. She was always so proud of everything you did, everything you accomplished. Of the young woman you were growing into.”

  It’s funny, because my dreams of dancing with a ballet company are actually coming true and I’m finally having this amazingly candid conversation with my dad and for the first time since my mom was diagnosed with cancer, I finally feel like a huge weight has been lifted from me. Like I can finally breathe again…

  And yet something is still missing.

  Or rather someone...

  Without Roan in my life, my dreams can’t fully be realized because without him to share them with, they don’t feel as monumental as they should.

  “Dad,” I push out the words hastily before I can overthink them, “can I borrow your car? There’s something I need to take care of.”

  That’s the moment I realize that I’m doing exactly what would make my mom proud… I’m following my heart.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Sources confirm that Roan’s ex-girlfriend has left Barnett. Does this mean we’ll finally get our favorite player back? The one who has all the girls on campus happily dropping their panties with one sexy smile aimed in their direction? Here’s hoping so… KingOfCampus.com

  Roan

  Today, like the last week and a half of my life, has definitely sucked some major ass. Thank god it’s almost over. My gym bag is slung over my shoulder because I just can’t sit around that goddamn apartment for one more moment.

  Thoughts of Ivy are pounding through my brain like a vicious headache.

  Well that and the fucking mistake I made in letting her go in the first place. But what else could I really do? Hold her back from making a go of her dreams?

  Nah... No matter how much I love her, I couldn’t do that.

  Plowing an agitated hand through my hair, I click the key fob to unlock the doors of my SUV. I swear I had to stop myself about ten different times from jumping into my truck and taking off to see her.

  Of course I want her to follow her dreams, but why couldn�
��t we do it together?

  Maybe we could somehow beat the odds and make this relationship work.

  But every time those thoughts would start to gain just a little bit of traction, reality would once again come crashing down upon my head. Because letting her go, letting her pursue her dreams in Cincinnati without having to worry about me is the right thing to do.

  God, but I just want her.

  I’ve never wanted anyone more. I never realized just how much it could hurt to love someone. But it does. Because it forces you to put that person ahead of your own selfish wants and needs and in the end, do what’s best for them. Even if that means letting her go so she can achieve everything she was meant to.

  Love sucks, man.

  It sucks the big one.

  So I’m heading to the gym and I’m really hoping that after a couple of hours working myself over, I’ll be exhausted enough to fall straight into bed and not think about how damn much I’m going to miss her.

  How much I already miss her.

  Fuck!

  She’s all I can think about, all I see, all I hear…

  “Roan!”

  I have to actually shake my head because her voice won’t stop filling it. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to get through the next semester feeling like this. There are memories lurking around every single corner of campus.

  “Roan, stop! Wait!”

  Even though I know it can’t possibly be Ivy yelling my name from the opposite end of the parking lot, I can’t help but whip towards it. As my eyes collide with hers, my mouth falls open in surprise.

  “Ivy?” Even as I say her name, my eyes are eating her up. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes wide. She looks breathless. “What are you doing here?”

  Not saying another word, she continues jogging towards me. It takes her just a moment to finally close the distance separating us. When she’s just about three or four feet from where I’m still standing, her feet slow to a stop. Her eyes suddenly flicker with uncertainty as they lock on mine.