by Bella Grant
I cleared my throat and looked away, embarrassed. “Uh—thanks.”
“Your cover of that song was amazing,” she lauded me. “I’ve never heard it before. Who’s the original artist?”
I debated for a split second if I should lie to her and make up a name, but I didn’t particularly feel like lying and causing a rift in the fabric of this delicate tapestry of a new relationship we were in—one of awareness. “It’s not a cover.”
“Oh, my God, are you trying to tell me you wrote that song?” She gasped in amazement. “I couldn’t tell it wasn’t professionally written.”
The more she gushed, the more my face reddened with discomfort. Singing and playing the guitar was a pleasure for me, and I hadn’t shared it with many people.
“It’s one of the saddest songs I’ve ever heard,” she stated, coming over to stand by me. “It pulled at my heart strings, reminding me of losing my grandmother. She was very close to my family. Did-did you write that song because you lost someone?”
The painful reminder stabbed me in my heart. “My brother,” I whispered, my tone full of agony. “I lost my older brother.”
“Oh no!” she exclaimed, her hand going up to cover her mouth. “That’s so horrible. How did he die?”
Shutters came over my features, and I retreated. I stepped back from her, both physically and emotionally. Because I couldn’t look at her and see the condemnation and disgust in her eyes if I told her, I stalked out the apartment.
“Liam, wait!”
I ignored her voice, though it pulled at me and made me yearn to wait, to stay with her. Still, I couldn’t explain to her. I slammed the door behind me as I ran down the stairs and into the night until my lungs burned and my legs ached. And still I ran, but no matter how far I got, I couldn’t get the demons to stop chasing me. I couldn’t avoid the sightless eyes of my brother staring at me.
12
Emily
Lindstrom’s Buy-ology: Truth and Lies About Why We Buy sat in front of me on the desk, but I had been stuck on this chapter for the past hour. I couldn’t move on. My foot tapped a worried rhythm against the floor as I tried to concentrate for a test coming up, but I couldn’t get Liam out of my mind. I had eaten my dinner alone, although I’d dished him a plate and left it for him in the microwave. It was almost midnight with still no sign of him.
Other times, I wouldn’t have worried about him, but tonight, I did. I couldn’t get the haunted look in his eyes out of my mind. I hadn’t meant to upset him. I still wasn’t sure what I had said that was so bad he had run out on me. It had to do with the death of his brother. That was when he’d clammed up on me.
Today had gone so well, and I had hoped that finally, we would connect, which would improve our living arrangements. Despite bickering at odd times, it hadn’t been with anger like before. The arguments had been transformed to light bickering, like the kind between married couples.
When he’d started singing, I had been pulled by the sound of his intoxicating voice. The blend of his clear, strong tone in addition to the strumming of the guitar had prodded me from the kitchen and to the living room as I listened to him, I’d felt the pain in his song. I considered it impossible to pull off such a song without feeling some type of pain. I’d thought he would talk to me about it. Now, as I mused over it, I realized how dumb that was. Until today, all we did was to fight. Why should he feel he could trust me?
Liam was gone for hours, which scared me, knowing the condition he had been in when he left. I hovered over the computer icon over the right bottom corner of the screen and looked at the time. 12:10. Where could he be? My guess was drinking, but drinking in the state he had been in was not a good idea.
I got my phone and dialed his number from my contact list. My breath blew out in a frustrated puff as I heard it ringing on the sofa. He’d left his phone. Although it was late, I panicked and didn’t know who else to call, so I called Miranda. She picked up after the fourth ring, her voice slow from sleep.
“Hello000.”
“Miranda, I’m so sorry to wake you,” I apologized, speaking rapidly. “But I don’t know what else to do. Liam’s gone.”
“Huh? Give me a second.” I heard her whisper something to someone and a door closing before she returned to the line. “God, Em, do you know what time it is?”
“I know and I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to do.”
“You’re talking way too fast, honey. Slow down and tell me what happened.”
I took a deep breath before I tried again. “It’s Liam. He left and I don’t know where he is. He hasn’t come back to the apartment and it’s so late.”
“I’m confused. You like it when he’s gone. He’s probably out drinking with his buddies as usual.”
“No, that’s not it at all. We were sort of getting along today and everything was fine, but then I made a comment about something and he left the apartment. You should have seen the look on his face, Miranda. He looked hopeless. Do you think I should call the police and have them do a search for him?”
“Absolutely not!” she exclaimed. “First of all, they’ll tell you he’s not been missing for twenty-four hours. Liam’s an adult, Em. I’m sure he’s fine, wherever he is. Just give him space and he’ll return when he’s ready.”
“I don’t know. Something feels off with him.”
“Hmm,” Miranda said speculatively. “Why are you so interested in what happens to him?”
“Well, because…because,” I spluttered.
“Oh, my God, you like him!”
“No!” I denied weakly. I wasn’t even convincing myself, let alone her. “I don’t know what to do. I would go out to look for him except I wouldn’t know where to look.”
“You’re overreacting,” she responded on a yawn. “Wait it out until morning. Now, if you’re finished, I need to go warm up Alexander.”
“All righty then. Sorry for waking you.”
“It’s okay. Call me when it’s a decent hour and let me know what happened.”
“Okay, I will.”
I hung up but wasn’t satisfied. I got up from my chair and went to the sofa where I grabbed his phone. I couldn’t see me getting into it without a password. I swiped my hand across the screen and idly selected the forget password option. I gasped when I saw the security question prompted for me to respond to: What is your roommate’s name? I couldn’t believe my luck and hesitated at the thought of invading his privacy before I entered my name and his phone was unlocked. I wasn’t going through his phone to be nosy. I would try to find someone in his contact list I could talk to about his possible whereabouts.
For the life of me, I couldn’t remember his friends’ names, but I hovered over the name Shawn, who he had called last. This had to be one of his two friends he always hung out with. I rang the number and hoped for the best.
“Hello,” another sleepy voice answered. “Look, Liam, I didn’t get to bring your car over, but I promise it’ll be there before you are ready for work.”
“Umm…this isn’t Liam,” I responded. “It’s his roommate, Emily. I’m sorry for calling so late, but I’m trying to find Liam.”
“What? Why do you have his phone?”
“He left it on the couch,” I explained. “Look we had a-a…I don’t even know what to call it. I asked him about…about the death of his brother and he stormed out. I’m worried. He hasn’t been back and I need an idea where he is so I can go look for him.”
“Shit!” Shawn exclaimed, his voice alert. “You asked him about his brother’s death?”
“Yeah, I didn’t know it was traumatic.”
“He’s probably deep in liquor by now. I think I know where he is. I’ll go get him.”
“No,” I protested. “Please, this is my mess. Let me go get him. Just tell me where he is. I’ll bring him home. I feel bad for letting him go like that. We…we were actually having a good time before it happened, but I didn’t know about his brother.”
I still
had no idea about his brother, but apparently, it was bad enough for it to send Liam missing and his friend to warrant it serious enough to go after him. I could do no less.
“He’s probably at this bar we always go to,” Shawn replied hesitantly. “It’s late. I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea for you to go.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just getting him out to come home and that’s it.”
“Okay, but if you run into any problems, call me.”
“Sure.”
He gave me the address to Innis, an Irish pub I’d never been to but knew its location in passing. Since I wore an old t-shirt and cut-off shorts, I changed into a pair of opaque black leggings, an off-the-shoulder top, and a pair of black and white Converse. I grabbed my car keys and headed to the I-65 route, which would get me to him in a little over fifteen minutes.
The parking lot of the pub was half-full, and I eased my car between an SUV and a bike. I took a deep breath as I regarded the pub. It would almost seem like a home from the outside, but as I walked through the door, there was no masking what it was. The décor was earthy and natural. The design of the bar as well as the tables and chairs was all wood, and not perfectly polished either. The bar stools looked like something a local craftsman would put together, a little rustic but totally in sync with the look of the place.
Several eyes turned toward me as I walked into the bar, and I clutched my car keys so hard the ring dug into my flesh. I walked slowly, scanning the bar, and sighed with relief when I spotted him. He was slumped on a bar stool. He had a large pitcher of beer in front of him, which was almost finished, and a glass. As I watched him, he tossed back the beer in the glass and refilled it from the pitcher. My heart sank.
I walked slowly over to him and sat on the stool beside him. He didn’t even glance up to see who was there. His whole attention was on the beer in front of him
“Can I get you anything?” the bartender—a beautiful brunette in a mid-riff top which showed off her incredibly sized knockers to the best advantage—asked me.
“Uh, I’ll take a Miller Lite,” I responded, not because I intended to drink but so I didn’t get kicked out.
At the sound of my voice, Liam turned to me. “Emily?” he slurred, frowning at me with squinted eyes as though he couldn’t see me properly. “What are you doing here?” His speech was sluggish, and it was obvious he had to make a conscious effort to speak.
“Thanks,” I told the bartender when she handed me the beer. “I came to find you,” I explained to him. “I was worried about you, Liam.”
He scoffed. “Ain’t nobody’s worried about me.”
“That’s not true,” I said, my heart heavy from the despondency in his tone. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here. I’m here to take you home.”
“I can’t go home yet.”
“Why?”
“Becaushh I’m not drunk enough yet.” He was drunk enough as far as I could see. The stench of beer was strong on him.
“Look, Liam,” I calmly said, placing my hand over his as he tried to raise the glass to his lips again. “I can’t pretend to know what’s going on with you, but I know this isn’t the answer and you need to stop. Please, let me take you home so you can sleep this off. You’ve got work in a few hours. You’ll be in a shitty mood if you continue drinking like this.”
He frowned as he thought long and hard, although I couldn’t fathom how he could form a coherent thought in his current state.
“Please, Liam,” I pleaded with him, and when he didn’t respond, I settled comfortably in my stool, lifted the bottle of Miller Light to my lips, and took a long gulp. “I guess I’ll just have to stay with you all night and get drunk.”
“What?”
Instead of responding to him, I drained the Miller Light and signaled to the bartender to hit me with another beer. I was just putting the new bottle to my lips when Liam took it from me.
“Fine, I’ll go with you.”
Relieved, I asked the bartender for his tab combined with mine and shelled out the cash after staring at her in disbelief. Liam would have to give me back his portion when he sobered up. I would not pay all that cash for his drinks.
“Come on, Liam.”
I wrapped my arm around his waist, and he leaned heavily on me as we left the bar. By the time I got him in the car, I was panting. God, he was heavy! His arms were like steel bands around my waist and shoulder.
I had barely pulled out of the parking lot when I heard his snores, loud enough to wake the dead. I drove as quickly as possible without breaking the speed limit, and within fifteen minutes, we were at the apartment. I had to rouse him from his sleep, which wasn’t an easy feat, and even worse was getting him up the stairs. It was a wonder we both didn’t tumble back down. Inside the apartment, I led him to his room and allowed him to fall on the bed with a groan.
I had never been in his bedroom before. His door was always closed, so I never got so much as a peek inside. Compared to the mess he left in the kitchen and living room and occasionally, the bathroom, I would have expected his room to resemble a dumpsite. I couldn’t have been more wrong. His bed was made with plain khaki bedsheets and two fluffy pillows. No pieces of clothing littered the floor and his shoes seemed to be put away in his closet despite him always leaving the shoes he wore to work in the hall.
Before I could contemplate what it meant, I heard him groan and feared he would throw up all over the bed. “Liam, you’re not going to throw up, are you?”
“No, just turn off the lights.”
“In a minute. Let’s get you out of these shoes first.”
He was basically useless to me, so I wrestled the pair of Vans from his feet. I thought about helping him out of his jeans, which would be hell to sleep in, but I couldn’t imagine getting him out of them. I decided to leave him in his current state.
When I placed his shoes in the closet, it was as organized as the rest of his room. Where had this man been hiding? If he kept such a tidy bedroom, why did he insist on leaving the rest of the house messy? Was he doing it spitefully or was he just too lazy to make the effort beyond his bedroom? After all, he knew I would clean up the rest of the apartment.
My irritation at him melted away when I turned and saw him sleeping on the bed. I was drawn to him and sat on the bed, staring at his face. Even in sleep, his brows were knotted. Of its own accord, my hand reached out to smooth the lines, and his face relaxed visibly with a smile.
“Emily…”
My name on his lips took me by surprise. I scrambled off the bed so quickly, it was a wonder I didn’t wake him. After checking he was okay one last time, I turned out the lights and left the room. I crept back inside to place his phone on his nightstand. I hoped he didn’t realize I’d gotten into it last night and called his friend.
Who was I kidding? He would figure it out. If he didn’t notice the call, his friend was sure to mention it to him.
13
Liam
“Come on, Kyle, we don’t have to stay long.” I urged my twenty-two-year-old brother with whom I shared a dorm room. He sat at the little work station in the corner, trying to prep for an exam, while I tried to get him out the house. It was his birthday—or birth-night, if there was such a thing. All I wanted was for us to hit the newest club—Energy—and have some fun.
My older brother was the opposite of me. We looked similar in appearance, so people knew right away we were brothers—roughly the same height, black hair, and blue eyes. I always thought my brother the goody-two-shoes. He was the perfect son, especially for overbearing Christian parents who believed their two sons should follow in their footsteps.
I never wanted anything to do with being a Christian. When I was younger, I went to church services because I didn’t have a choice, but as I grew older, I refused to go. After realizing threats wouldn’t work with me, my parents had left me alone. They hardly bothered with me while they doted on Kyle, who continued going to church to this day and had an actual interest in
it. Although he could pursue anything at Auburn, he’d opted to study Theology, right in keeping with what my parents had in mind for him—a life in the clergy.
It didn’t bother me one bit that this was the life Kyle wanted, even though in my view, it was staid. What a man chose to do with his life wasn’t any of my business. I was concerned, though, that he had never had much experience outside the church. Even coming to university, Kyle had chosen to dedicate his time to church-related associations. He never went out to simply grab a beer with the guys. He still made it to church like the dutiful son every Sunday, while I stayed away from home as much as possible. I hadn’t been back since I started at Auburn. I didn’t even go home for Christmas. I’d chosen to spend the time at my friend Shawn’s house, and it was one of the better Christmases I’d had. For once, it was all about the hype and the commercialism of the holiday instead of attending church and reminiscing about the birth of a baby thousands of years ago.
“You know this exam is the biggest for my career,” Kyle replied to me. “I can’t fail.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “You know you won’t fail. You never fail. You’ve lost the capacity to ever fail a test, and knowing you, I would guess you’ve long studied for this test. Now, you’re just being a chicken about the entire thing.”
“It doesn’t matter. I could do with some revision.”
I stalked over to his desk and slammed the book shut. “Be fun for once in your fucking life, man!” I shouted at him. “All this studying and never letting off any steam is not good for you. You’ll be a youth minister soon, and you’ve got no experience whatsoever. You’ve got no stories to tell a youth group because you’ve never lived. How do you think normal teens will feel, going through as much struggle as they do, when they have a goody-two-shoes minister to talk to? This can be your story. Come on, man.”
Kyle didn’t say anything, just sat there with his black head bowed as if in prayer, and I lost my patience with him. I gave his chair an immature kick and reached for my wallet and car keys.
