by Layne, Lyssa
He took a few deep breaths, obviously trying to calm himself. He walked over to me and stood in front of me, looking at my face, my belly and my face again. ''I need some fresh air, baby. I’m going to smoke a cigarette outside.''
My parents didn't want him to smoke in the house. My dad had stopped smoking and he had a hard time dealing with smokers around him.
Brian bent down to eye level, holding my gaze intently, as if he was memorizing my face. He kissed me softly.
''I’ll be right back," he nearly whispered. He grabbed his t-shirt from the couch, put it on and jogged up the stairs.
''Be quick!'' I told him before he reached for the door. I was a nervous wreck. I needed him to comfort me, to help me figure this out.
He paused briefly before opening the door and walking through it.
He never came back inside.
Brian never came back at all. He never even called. He simply left town and never returned. The last thing I saw of Brian was the tattoo of a phoenix he had gotten earlier that day. The bird remained imprinted on my memory. It was singed into my subconscious, like a burn. I couldn’t forget that tattoo if I tried.
I attempted to call his number many times over the next few days, but the line was disconnected. His friends wouldn't tell me where he was but, to be honest, I don’t think they knew. He left everything he had behind. He’d gotten scared and run.
I was devastated – crying myself to sleep every night. I didn’t expect Brian to be thrilled about the baby, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect him to leave me. I had to try to make peace with Brian abandoning me, before I could face my parents. I had to get myself together before I could deal with them - there’s only so much one person can take at a time.
I waited three weeks before I felt confident enough to approach my parents. My mom, as expected, didn't take it well. She slapped me across the face, yelling that I was an embarrassment to our family. That she could never forgive me. That I should not expect any help or sympathy from her. My dad remained silent through her tirade and I think my dad’s silence hurt more than my mother’s screaming.
They kicked me out, effective immediately. My parents, the two people in the world whom I should have been able to lean on, left me on the sidewalk with a garbage bag full of my personal belongings. I had nowhere to go. I was alone - well, not exactly alone, but I had nobody to count on. I felt more alone than I’d ever imagined possible.
I ended up in a shelter for women that first night. Thanks to the assistance of the people running the shelter, I was able to find a job and earn a few bucks as a waitress in a small cafe in downtown Dallas.
My life was a mess. I’d never expected to end up pregnant at nineteen, and living in a shelter. I put one foot in front of the other for those first few days, silently promising my baby we would make it. That I wouldn’t fail my unborn child. I wouldn’t give up on our future, like everyone else had. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I wouldn’t give up without a fight.
I met Carlson at the café a couple of weeks later. He came in one night while I was working, and was charming and polite. We had an easy banter between us from the beginning and he kept me company during the shift. The cafe wasn’t busy that night and Carlson and I traded stories and chatted. He was in town for a few days for business and I secretly hoped he would come back in - I had never met anyone like him before. Carlson was a tall, good-looking man with short brown hair. His suit fit him perfectly, he looked like a responsible businessman.
He paid his bill and turned to go, but stopped a few feet from the door. He held my gaze for a few seconds before he spoke.
“I won’t sleep tonight, knowing you’re pregnant and sleeping in that shelter. I have an extra bed in my hotel room, Jackie. You’re more than welcome to use it. I would like it if you chose to use it."
For some strange reason, I trusted Carlson. Trust wasn’t something which came easily for me, especially after the recent events with Brian, but Carlson seemed different.
I ended up staying with him for the remainder of his stay in Dallas. We talked a lot and I learned more about him over the next few days. The night before he was set to leave town, we were sitting in the kitchenette, drinking tea. He seemed especially pensive.
“Jackie, where will you go when I leave tomorrow?"
I shrugged. I hated the thought of going back to the shelter, but I had no other options. I had no one. Tears sprang to my eyes and I silently pleaded with them not to fall.
“That’s what I thought.” He set his cup down on the table and leaned back in his chair, studying me. "Come with me to Seattle.”
My eyes almost popped out of my head. Whatever I thought he was going to say – whatever direction I thought this conversation was going – this wasn’t it.
Seeing my shock, Carlson explained. “I’m not married. I have no kids. I have this house which is too big for me alone, and I’m never there much anyway. It wouldn’t make sense for you to go to the shelter in your current situation, when you could come with me.” He leaned forward on his elbows. “You’d be safe. You’d have food. You could rest. Please, come with me.”
All I had in the world was a trash bag full of clothes. This man was offering me the basic necessities of life, somewhere safe for my baby and I to stay. I would’ve been an idiot to refuse his generous offer.
The next morning, I grabbed my bag and placed it in the trunk of the taxi alongside Carlson’s luggage. I sat in the back seat with my hand settled on my belly.
"It's our only chance to have a better life, Phoenix. I promise you a great future and I will do everything I can to get it for us," I whispered to my baby. “I’ll protect you from bad things, ensure you’ll stay away from scum like your father. You deserve much better, I won’t ever let you be hurt like I was.”
Carlson slid in beside me, and as we pulled out onto the highway, he smiled, quietly watching as I said my silent goodbyes to Dallas. I would never return, never see my parents again.
This part of my life was over.
CHAPTER ONE
The Beginning – Summer time
''Hey, girls! I'm done for the summer, I just finished my last exam. God, it was so hard,'' I said, still thinking about the answers I had written down on my paper. I hoped it had gone well, as every questions was tricky. I hated the teacher, I expected exactly that with him; nothing could ever be simple.
''I’ve just sent my essay to my teacher. So I'm done too.'' Val added.
''I've been done with school for an entire day already,'' Bekka teased. ''It feels really good to be off.'' She stretched, still wearing her pyjamas.
''Our summer should be fun… the apartment, our jobs. I can feel it,'' I announced.
Bekka and Val laughed.
It was the end of the semester - the beginning of summer. Our summer, I thought. Freedom, hanging out and a nice tan, I was more than ready.
We were all twenty-one and enjoying every second of our lives. Bekka, Val and I had finally moved into our apartment. It was close to the University of Washington in Seattle, as our parents had insisted. They all thought if we were going to move out of their houses, we had to be close to school - that way, we had no excuse to be late for classes. At first, they were worried sharing an apartment was going to disturb our studies, but we promised numerous times that it wouldn't and they finally agreed. To be honest, the people we had to convince the most were my parents. I was an only child, and they wanted me to wait until my studies were done to move out of the family home. For them, moving away from their supervision meant I was going to become careless about my studies. Maybe even drop out. They were just being parents - worried we wouldn’t study and would turn into party animals, but that wasn't us. It wasn't what we wanted. Our future was important to us - we just wanted to live together and start experiencing life independently. We’d rented a small three bedroom flat. It was old and in need of new paint, but the rent was cheap and we loved it. The nice beige brick wall in the livin
g room and kitchen was the charm of the apartment. The purple curtains in the living room helped turn the shabby interior into something incredibly girly and, in our opinion, fabulous. While it may not be perfect for everyone—to us, it was home.
All three of us had gotten a job at a club downtown, Black Shakers. We lived together and worked together - we were inseparable. They were like my sisters. We grew up together, never fought, and we’d made a rule to always talk about what was on our mind. No secrets allowed - honesty was our one and only rule. We had been friends since the age of seven; there was nothing in the world which would be strong enough to tear us apart. The summer before we started high school, we knew things would change. New school, new temptations and probably new friends. We didn’t want things to change in our friendship, so the last weekend before starting school again, we made a blood promise with a prick of our fingers and friendship candles we’d found at some obscure store. It kept us together through high school.
''We promise to always be honest with each other and to always defend and protect our sisters.'' We repeated it three times, and blew out our candles to end the ceremony.
My parents didn't know I had a job in a club. I knew how much they would worry about my safety if they ever found out, so some things were better left unsaid. They would almost definitely blow it out of proportion, so this was one life change I decided they didn’t need to know about.
The sun peeked through my thin curtains and I was slowly pulled out of my dream. I stretched my sore muscles, feeling way too tired to get out of bed. But I was supposed to be at work in the music store in two hours, so I had to resist succumbing to the warm and comfortable confines of my bed. The tips from bartending at the club were enough to pay all my expenses but there was one thing it didn’t have—Tristan. He worked in the classical section and one smile was enough to make working there totally worth it. His perfect ocean-blue eyes matched his curly blonde hair to perfection. He was a brilliant law student and everything I wanted in a guy – gorgeous, polite and caring with the people at work. His sweetness also drew me to him; the first time I met him, he blushed and stammered when he told me his name. I thought it was adorable. Every time we spoke, I would replay our conversation in my mind for days. I was falling hard for him and I’d decided I had to take the next step – I had to ask him out.
Today is the day. I had to work up the courage and ask him out for coffee or a movie. I wasn't working at the club tonight, so it was the perfect opportunity. As soon as I set foot in the store, my heart started fluttering, I was so anxious and jumpy. I dropped more CD's than I could count, and if my fingers would just stop trembling, it would help me get through the day. Every time, I looked his way, I felt the jitters and trembling fingers getting worse. It felt like an out of body experience or as if I was a recovering drug addict. His eyes met mine a couple of times. Once, there was such intensity in his look it made me feel special for a brief instant. A little while ago, Bekka had come to visit and she said Tristan watched me constantly when I wasn’t looking. Little moments like those had to mean something—right?
I stayed in bed a little longer, daydreaming about how our first kiss would go, I imagined it would be soft, gentle, and just absolutely perfect. I fantasized about telling him all the little things I thought about him - like how cute he was when he helped that little boy pick out a gift for his mother, and how his smile made my insides turn to jelly.
I wanted to experience all of those small, everyday things with him. I wanted to walk down the street and hold his hand with pride. I wanted to feel his skin against mine, feel him touching me. I wanted to smell his cologne, and when I was away from him at night I wanted to be surrounded by his scent still. He was so attractive. My mind raced with excitement, I had to do it today. I couldn’t wait any longer, I wanted him to be mine.
Three knocks resonated on the bedroom door.
''Nix, wake up,'' Bekka ordered. ''I'll give you a ride if you hurry.''
''I'm up, I'm up.'' Geez, I hated it when she acted like my mother.
I rolled to the side of the bed and stretched my tired legs, yawning as I got up. I grabbed clean clothes from the dresser and shuffled to the bathroom. Some people need coffee in the morning - I needed a hot, steamy shower.
The warm water ran down my skin, spreading goose bumps all over my body. I lathered the loofah and scrubbed myself clean with raspberry shower gel, and then ran a razor quickly down my legs to make my skin smooth. Maybe I was putting in just a little more effort than usual, but I was uncharacteristically nervous and wanted to make sure everything was perfect.
Bekka and Val always told me I had nice legs – they were one of my best assets. Long and athletic, I knew how to use what my mama gave me. With that in mind, I carefully selected a black denim skirt which I was sure would make Tristan drool. I wasn't the type of girl who liked wearing skirts and heels - I was more of a tomboy than Bekka and Val, but every now and then I liked to make an exception. And trying to win Tristan’s heart was the best exception I could think of.
Looking back at my reflection, there were a few things missing. Some foundation added a healthy glow to my skin, while soft pink gloss pumped up my lips; and I couldn't leave the house without my signature dark eyeliner and mascara which made my blue eyes stand out. My skirt was paired with the store’s t-shirt, which just happened to skim my curves, making me feel sexy in a way I never thought possible. I was as ready as I’d ever be, not to mention Bekka was already in the car waiting. I threw my bag across my shoulder, took a deep breath, and headed out the door.
I sat in Bekka’s car as she searched for a song to play. I tried to prepare my ears for what was coming, but no amount of preparation could ready someone for Bekka’s musical tastes. When the music started, the car practically bounced down the road as Bekka always pushed the limits of the speakers. The music was blasting into my poor ears, giving me a headache immediately, but I knew better than to think about turning the volume down. Bekka was always crystal clear when it came to catching a ride in her car - her car, her music, and her rules. That was the deal.
Minutes later, she dropped me off at work and I could swear I heard my ears sigh with relief. I could still feel the vibration of Jeff Buckley’s voice on my eardrums, even after Bekka’s car was out of sight. I love him and his music, just not when the speakers are screaming the lyrics at me and causing pain for no reason.
When I walked in to the store, I spotted Tristan instantly, as if my eyes were magnetically drawn to him. He was working in front of a rack of new releases, filling the slots with the accomplished dreams of so many talented individuals. My heart melted as I gazed at him; it didn’t matter if he was a superhero out saving the world or completing a task as simple as this—I could watch him forever. His blonde hair was styled à la James Dean, giving him a sexy appeal which was irresistible and he was humming a wordless tune – I couldn't recognize it, but I loved hearing him. His black pants were sitting low on his waist and his t-shirt was clinging tightly around his biceps, displaying his muscular build. I was certain he had abs to die for and I had to hold myself back from racing over, grabbing his shirt, and ripping it off his body to see if I was right. Instead, I passed him and said hi as casually as possible. He nodded and winked at me in return. I almost passed out.
These actions were flirty and definitely not the way he greeted everyone. Maybe I was crazy, but the gesture caused my mind to race. No—I wasn’t crazy! This had to mean something!
At least, I hoped it did. I took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, trying to calm the vigorous fluttering of butterflies in my stomach.
I had to formulate a plan. I only had a five hour shift, and I needed to come up with a reasonable excuse to talk to him and about something other than formalities. I dropped my purse and hoodie in my locker and re-emerged onto the store floor. I still had fifteen minutes before the store opened its doors for the day. There were always people waiting outside to get in and I had to figure out something f
ast, before the customers became witnesses to my attempts to ask Tristan out.
''Nice skirt, Phoenix,'' Tristan said, as I walked out of the storeroom.
I blushed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks, undoubtedly turning my face as red as a tomato. It was crazy what a simple sentence from him could do to me. Maybe I was over-reacting just a bit.
''Thanks.'' I mumbled, silently berating myself for such a monosyllabic response. I felt like an idiot. This was my opportunity to talk to him and I was blowing it.
Do it, Nix, I silently prodded myself.
''Hey, I was wondering. Are you free tonight or tomorrow? We could hang out,'' I blurted out, trying to force myself to look at Tristan, and not stare at the floor.
''Hang out?'' He frowned.
''Yeah. Only if you want to - no pressure.'' I was silently begging him to say yes. He ran one of his hands through his hair, seeming as if he were deciding what to do. He appeared to be hesitating, as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Maybe he was trying to remember his schedule – I wasn’t sure if that was it, but I was dying to know his answer. The frown on his forehead had me believing it wasn't going to be a positive answer. The butterflies in my stomach erupted into panic mode.
''Yeah, um, sure, after work. We could grab something to eat,'' he finally answered, raising his eyes to meet mine. I tried to play it cool, but I had no doubt my giddiness was written all over my face.
''Sure. That sounds great,'' I responded, with a smile the size of Russia on my face. He said yes! My face actually started to ache from the smile, it was so wide. ''I’ll meet you in the storeroom at 5pm?''
''I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Tristan smiled and, with another heart racing wink, moved to the front of the store. He paused and turned back to face me. ''Later, beautiful,'' he said, with a smile to match mine gracing his handsome face.
