Struggle to Forever: a friends to lovers duet

by Lilliana Anderson

  She smiled gently at me. “You’re very sweet to worry about the cost. But I assure you, I’m not in debt one bit. It’s all yours, and it’s all paid for.”

  “But mum? It’s too much.”

  “No. It’s exactly what you deserve,” she said, touching me lightly on my cheek. “Now go and take it for a spin.”

  I stood there for a moment, not sure if this was really happening. Is that car seriously mine?

  “Go.” She pressed the keys into my hand.

  With a massive grin on my face, I kissed her on the cheek then sprang into action, practically bounding out the door.

  Running my hands over the dark-blue paint job, I walked around the car to check it out properly while my mum stood in the doorway, watching me happily. As I slid inside, it still looked and smelled new. I practically sunk into the leather seats as I sat back, taking in my surroundings.

  “Start her up,” my mother yelled, beaming at me.

  Placing the key in the ignition, I turned it, my chest vibrating when the 275 horsepower engine grunted to life.

  “No speeding!”

  “I promise.” I couldn’t stop the smile from taking over my face. This was the most amazing thing I had ever been given. Immediately, I headed to Katrina’s house. She was the first person I wanted to take for a drive, the only person I wanted to share this with.

  I pulled up to the front of the house and tooted the horn to get her attention. I saw the curtain in the lounge room pull to the side and Tom’s face poke through. Straight after that, the front door opened and out filed Tom, Katrina and Ethan.

  “Nice ride, mate,” Ethan said as they all looked over the car.

  “You going to take us for a spin?” Tom asked, not waiting for my answer as he slid into the front passenger seat.

  “Sure, hop in.” I laughed, reminding myself of my earlier decision to quit being so possessive. The more the merrier, I guess.

  “It really is a nice car, David,” Trina said as she slid into the backseat with Ethan. “Is this a Christmas gift from your mum?”

  “I guess so. It was waiting for me when I got home this afternoon.”

  “It’s gorgeous. I’m jealous.”

  “Can I drive?” Tom asked.

  “Not on your life.”

  We went driving for maybe an hour, talking and listening to music. After the months of agonising over my feelings and coming to a point where I had a clear vision of my future, having the freedom of my own car was a sweet reward.

  When I got home, Mum took some pictures of me posing with it. It seemed so strange to be enamoured over a tonne of metal, but I smiled proudly. Best afternoon of my life.

  And it wasn’t just that car that made it that. It was the combination of deciding my path, taking action, and being given some coveted freedom. I just wish it could have lasted…

  At maybe one o’clock in the morning, I was woken up by a loud banging on the front door. Jumping up in case there was someone trying to get into the house, I heard Mum’s voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “You gave the kid that car?” the early-morning visitor yelled. It had been a few years since I’d seen him, but I’d know that drunken slur anywhere. Dad. I stood at my door and pressed my head against the cool wood.

  “You gave it to me, and I gave it to him. It was my choice to make.”

  “He’s a seventeen-year old kid. Give him your old car.”

  “God, I should have known you’d react like this. I never should have sent you that picture. But I thought you might actually be glad to see him so happy. Can’t you be happy for your son?”

  “That piece of shit? No. He can’t have the car. He gets nothing.”

  That piece of shit. My fists balled up at my sides as I took a few calming breaths. Fuck. I hate him.

  “You lost the right to tell me what to do when you walked out of here. Go home. You’re drunk.”

  “You’re an ungrateful bitch, and you’ve raised an ungrateful bastard of a son. I never should have given it to you. I only did so you’d get off me fucking back about support payments.”

  “Leave.”

  “Fuck this shit. I’ll go home, and I’ll take the fucking car with me. I’m the one who won it. I’m the one who gets to say who drives it,” he slurred.

  “You're not touching the car. It’s the first bit of ‘assistance’ you’ve given us in three years. Stop trying to cause trouble.”

  “Car’s still in my name. I can take it if I want.”

  “What happened, Dan? Is your winning streak over and you’re not feeling so generous anymore?”

  When their voices became too low for me to hear, I ventured out of my room, needing to make sure everything was all right. I didn’t trust that man as far as I could throw him. And that wasn't far at all.

  “What the hell is going on?” I demanded, finding them wrestling in a tug-o-war over the keys.

  “Ha. Bitch,” my father grunted, winning the keys and making for the door.

  “Don’t you dare take that car, Dan!” she yelled, chasing after him.

  “Fuck.” I followed, hot on her heels as I grabbed the metal baseball bat we had sitting next to the door in case the wrong kind of person came knocking. Why didn’t she use this against him?

  “Dan!” Mum screeched into the night as Dad started up the engine.

  “No.”

  All at once, the excitement I’d felt over the car was replaced with the anger and hatred I felt towards the man currently taking it from me. The man who deserted us all those years ago, who left us struggling and didn’t even look back.

  “Mother fucker,” I grunted, rushing for the car with the bat poised over my shoulder. Before he could get the car in gear, I swung, bringing it down on the windshield with all the strength I could muster. I heard a loud crack as the glass splintered in a jagged pattern.

  “David. Stop,” Mum yelled. But I wasn’t listening. The rage had taken hold as I swung the bat again, this time taking off the side mirror with a clean swipe, causing the mirror to shatter, spraying glass up the concrete driveway.

  “It’s not insured,” Dad yelled, horrified while reversing as fast as he could, screeching the tires as he straightened himself on the road. All with me chasing him, beating on the car and denting the panels until he picked up speed and got out of my reach.

  “I hate you,” I screamed, hurling the bat at the back window, causing it to pop through the glass and lodge itself there. “Fuck you!” My voice grated until it felt hoarse as I hurled insults into the night, standing in the middle of the road with no shoes on and glass around my feet. “Fuck you.” The last past came out in a sob and I press my hands to my face.

  “Oh David,” Mum said, voice thick. “I am so, so sorry.”

  Meeting her eyes, I held them for a beat then I ran. Tears poured from my eyes, my chest burning, my head throbbing. I was so keyed up that I didn’t even notice the pain of the asphalt road on the bottom of my bare feet.

  I ran straight to the one person I always thought of when something was happening in my life.

  I ran to Katrina.

  “Oh my god, David. What happened to you?” she asked as soon as she opened her window.

  When I looked down, I realised that not only was I shoeless, but I was shirtless as well, standing outside her bedroom window in nothing but my boxers.

  “My dad,” was all I could say. Her face fell as she quickly undid the fly screen and helped me climb inside.

  “What did he do?”

  Wiping my hand over my tear-streaked face, I shook my head. I hate him.

  “Holy shit. Your feet.”

  “I forgot shoes.” My voice came out numb, and a little dumb.

  “Stay there, I’ll be right back.”

  I dropped onto her desk chair with a thud and finally looked at my feet. They were filthy and bleeding from the glass and jagged road I ran along.

  Katrina’s phone started singing and dancing from the vibration behind me on the
desk. I picked it up and looked at the caller ID, noting that it was my house calling. “Mum?” I said into the handset.

  “Oh, thank god you’re there. Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll come home in the morning,” I told her and ended the call. I wasn’t angry at her at all. I just didn’t want to go back there and talk about what happened with her yet. Right now, I needed Trina. Just Trina.

  Trina returned to the room with an old towel, a bowl of water and a first-aid kit. She knelt down in front of me and laid the towel on the floor under my feet and started to gently clean them for me, inspecting my cuts for pieces of glass and debris before applying antiseptic and bandages. I sat quietly and watched her work, fighting my tears the entire time.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?” she asked when she was finished.

  “He didn’t even want to see me, Trina. He just came and took the car. Said I was a piece of shit who didn’t deserve it and left,” I whispered as a couple of tears fell from my eyes. I wiped at them, embarrassed I was crying when he didn’t deserve my tears. “I hate him. So much.”

  “I’m so sorry, David,” she whispered, rising up on her knees and wrapping her arms around me. “He’s an arsehole. He doesn’t deserve to know you. Because if he did, he’d know how amazing and brilliant you are. You’re not a piece of shit at all.”

  “Then why do I feel like one?”

  “Because your arsehole father treated you like one. But it isn’t true. You’re wonderful.”

  I leaned into her and let go, crying like a fucking baby. If anyone else had been there, I never would have broken down. But it was just Trina and me, and this was the first time I ever let the fact that my father took off on me and my mum get to me. I wasn’t upset over the car. I really didn’t give a shit about it once I found out it came from him. I cared that he had been to my house. He had spoken to my mum, but he hadn’t even tried to see me. I cared that after years of no contact, he still spoke about me like I was the bane of his existence.

  “It’s going to be OK, David,” she whispered, rubbing my back. “I promise.”

  Eventually, we laid down on her bed together while I told her everything about the visit, how I chased him down and took a bat to the car. I spoke about how upset mum was, and how much I hated the man who was half of my makeup because he never really liked me. I was always in his way.

  She listened quietly and held me, gently stroking my hair as I talked my way through it all. I don’t remember at what point we fell asleep, but when I woke up, my head was on her chest, and her arms were still wrapped around me. And I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.

  When I opened my eyes, sore and swollen from a night of being upset, it took a while for me to focus and realise that the door to Katrina’s room was open. In the doorway stood Ethan, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed and a very unimpressed look on his face.

  I sat up and held up my hand. “This is not what you think, Ethan,” I told him quietly, trying not to disturb Trina.

  She stirred anyway. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice heavy with sleep as she rubbed her eyes to get her focus. Suddenly, she sat bolt upright with a gasp. “Ethan.”

  “I should have known you were full of shit, Taylor. Just friends, my arse,” he seethed, pushing himself off the door frame.

  “I wasn’t lying,” I said as Trina tried to scramble out of bed to get to him.

  “David is just a friend. I promise you. This is innocent,” she rambled, placing her hands on his chest pleadingly.

  “It doesn’t look innocent.”

  “Mate. We weren’t doing anything.” I swung my legs out of the bed and went to stand, pain shooting through my feet as I took my weight. “Shit,” I hissed.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Ethan asked, taking in the bandages around my feet.

  “You don’t want to know,” I told him, pushing up and successfully standing this time. “I’ll leave you two alone.” They moved out of the way, so I could walk out the door. But Katrina grabbed my arm at the last second.

  “What about my parents? I don’t want you in trouble.”

  Pausing, I laughed. “After all these years, do you really think they don’t know I climb through your window?” Spotting the look on Ethan’s face the moment the words left my mouth had me feeling instantly guilty. “Shit. I’m sorry. It's not like that… it’s….”

  “Just go, David. I can handle this,” Trina said, her face begging for me to shut up. With a nod, I limped my way into the kitchen and sat on one of the stools around the breakfast bar, listening to the murmuring as Katrina tried to calm Ethan down behind the now closed door to her room.

  Trina’s dad walked through dressed in his work uniform. For a second, my heart stopped beating. I wasn’t sure how he’d react to finding me in his kitchen so early wearing only my boxer shorts.

  “Morning, David. What ungodly hour did you arrive at?” he asked, heading straight to the coffeepot and pouring himself a mug. “Want one?”

  “Ahh,” I said, not sure what to say.

  He placed a cup of coffee in front of me anyway and took the seat opposite. “Your mum called us last night and told us what happened. We all figured you needed a friend to talk to.” He took a mouthful of his coffee. I did the same. “What’s going on in there?” he asked, inclining his head toward Katrina’s door.

  “Ethan came over, saw us asleep together,” I explained, pulling my mouth to the side.

  “Hmm, that’s a hard one to explain.” He took another mouthful and then narrowed one eye at me suspiciously. “Nothing happened though?”

  “No, Mr Mahoney. I promise you it was only sleeping.”

  “And crying by the looks of it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for pointing that out.”

  “I call it like I see it,” he said, drinking the last of his coffee as he got up from his stool and took his mug to the sink. “You’re a good kid, mate. Nothin’ like your old man at all. Don’t let him get to you.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  He cleared his throat, awkward because this wasn’t the kind of thing we did. I appreciated it though. “Well, I’ve got work. Do you have clothes? Or did you come here like that?”

  “Like this,” I told him sheepishly.

  “All right, I’ll talk to Carol. She’ll get you something of Tom’s to wear home.”

  “Thank you, Mr Mahoney.”

  “No sweat, son. Just don’t make a habit of sneaking in my daughter’s window and staying the night.”

  Giving him a nod, I sat in the kitchen on my own for a while and finished the cup of coffee. It wasn’t long before Mrs Mahoney came into the kitchen with a pile of folded clothes and a pair of flip-flops and placed them on the table in front of me.

  “I was told you might need these,” she said with a half-smile, before ruffling my hair and tilting my head up by the chin. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m OK. Thanks for these.” I said, indicating the clothes.

  “It’s no problem,” she said, getting her own cup of coffee and leaning against the bench top to take her first sip. “Is that your competition in there with Katrina?”

  “I think me being here has caused a bit of a problem.”

  “It’s hard being best friends with the opposite sex. He wouldn’t have cared if you were a girl.”

  “True,” I said, standing up and taking my cup to the sink. “He probably would have liked walking into that.”

  Mrs Mahoney giggled. “I think you’re right about that.”

  “I might go put this stuff on and get out of here. They obviously need some time to talk, and I’m probably making it worse by just being out here.”

  “Look after yourself OK? We’re always here if you need us.”

  “Thanks, Mrs Mahoney.”

  When I went back home, Mum was still crying. She kept promising to get me another car, but I told her not to. It wasn’t important. I knew she felt really bad
, but I assured her it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t have known that he’d be such a jerk about it. “I just want to forget the guy exists. Can we do that?”

  She nodded. “Only if you let me check your feet. I’m sure Trina did a great job, but the nurse in me needs to be sure.”

  With my feet re-bandaged, Mum and I spend the next hour staring numbly at the television. Some football match we didn’t care about was on, so I was relieved to hear a knock on the front door. Without waiting for us to answer it, Trina stepped in. “Hi, Mrs Taylor. David, do you think we could talk?”

  Nodding, I stood up, ignoring the pain in my feet to walk with her toward my room, waiting for her to go inside before following.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “He dumped me,” she told me before bursting into tears and flinging herself at me. I caught her in my arms and held her, rubbing her back and shushing her until she calmed down enough to speak.

  “I’m sorry, Trina. I never wanted that to happen.”

  “I know. He just wouldn’t believe me that there’s nothing going on between us. He said I couldn’t have it both ways, and when I refused to choose between you both. He chose for me.” Her mouth tugged up on one side.

  “Oh, shit. Do you want me to talk to him?”

  She shook her head. “He’s been jealous of you for a long time. Thinks we spend too much time together. Says it’s not normal for a girl and a guy to be as close as we are without, you know…”

  “I’m sorry, Trina. I really am,” I said, truly meaning it. I knew how much she cared for him, and I hated that I’d come between them when I was specifically trying not to.

  “I think I’m going to swear off guys from now on. What’s the saying ‘Boyfriends come and go, but friends are forever’?”

  “Yeah, I think that’s it.”

  “Well, that’s the way it has to be, I think. If a guy can’t handle the fact that my best friend is another guy, then I don’t want to know him,” she sniffled.