“Why are we watching this?” he whispers into my ear. I shrug and motion toward Noah. Nick knows I’d never put this in, watching these highlights does nothing but open old memories.
Noah continues to laugh at me and Nick about how funny we looked in high school. Each time I remind him that I have naked baby pictures of him and I’ll be showing them to all his girlfriends.
Beaumont wins the game and that’s my cue to turn it off. I search for the remote, panic setting in. I don’t want to see what’s at the end.
“Mom, who are you kissing?”
I look at the screen and see the boy that haunts my dreams and reality. He turns and faces the camera, his arm slung around me. When I see his blue eyes I bite my lip. I’ve been thinking about him more and more since Mason died, and I wonder if he’s happy. I get up and turn off the TV so I don’t have to look at him anymore.
“He’s no one, baby.” I say as I leave the room.
Driving through town last night was a mistake. Stopping in front of the Preston house was an utter lapse in judgment. I was surprised to find that Mr. Preston was awake, let alone willing to come outside and stare down a stranger on a motorcycle, especially one dressed in all black.
The walls of this hotel room are closing in and fast. I should’ve stayed farther out of town where I could at least have a suite with space to move. I need to pace and think. Think about what I’m going to do when I see her. I just want to look. I need to know that she’s okay and happy. That she’s moved on with her life and I’m nothing but a blip on her radar.
Maybe she buys my music because she can say she once knew me, a long time ago. I’ve pictured her many times standing in the line at the grocery store holding People or Rolling Stone when I’m on the cover. I want to think that she’s read the articles and seen me talk about her without actually saying her name. That she’s created a playlist on her iPod of all the songs that are about her, that she knows I’ve never stopped loving her.
I pound my fists into my head. “You’re so stupid, Liam. She doesn’t fucking care about you. You left her and changed your number so you wouldn’t have to listen to her crying on your voicemail.”
I have to get out of this hotel because staying here just reminds me of her and the night we lost our virginity to each other and it’s driving me insane.
With my helmet on before I reach the lobby, I sprint through the door avoiding the day clerk that is working. She’s actually a bit cuter then the night clerk, but not by much. There’s nothing worse than a woman who tries too hard.
I speed through the back roads, taking corners faster than I should, passing cars that are going too slow and blowing by a school bus full of kids. A few horns honk and windows roll down, hands flying out. I don’t bother to look in my mirror to see them flipping the bird. I’ve done it before to whatever jackass thinks he owns these roads.
Mason and I used to own these roads. We were so stupid when we were younger. Always driving too fast or drinking, not to mention the many games of mailbox baseball. Hell, I used to make-out with my girl while driving, letting her straddle me just so I could feel her against me before dropping her off at home.
Hot summer nights spent in the back of my truck looking at the stars, holding her between my legs with my arms wrapped around her. I told her I’d love her forever. I said I love you first and promised to never let her go.
I pull up short and pull over into a parking lot. I need to calm down. Driving like an idiot doesn’t solve anything. The last thing I want is my name in the paper because I was being reckless. I’ve worked hard to keep my image clean. No more mistakes for me.
When I look up I see that I’m at the Allenville Museum, a place dedicated to high school sports. I get off my bike and walk in, paying the five dollar admission. Inside it’s like a shrine. I’m hanging from the ceiling with my record breaking stats displayed under my picture. There’s a picture of Mason and I together. We were supposed to break records at the University of Texas but he wanted to stay close to Katelyn and opted to go to the state school with her. He was the smart one.
A large picture of Mason is front and center in the museum with a black cloth draped over the edges. There is a table next to his picture with more photographs from high school, with a few of him and me and some of the other guys. We’re all so young in our football uniforms, holding up our index finger telling the world that we’re number one. We didn’t have a care in the world, we just wanted to win. One of our championship footballs sits on a stand. I want to touch it, feel the pigskin against my fingers, but I refrain. Those days are gone. I left them all behind when I packed up and left Texas for the bright lights of the big city.
“Do you hear that crowd?” Mason yells at me before we leave the tunnel. This is our last game ever in high school and this year we’ve gone undefeated. We annihilated the competition. Mason is so close to breaking the state record for rushing yards and I broke the record for passing earlier this season. We both signed our letters of intent for the University of Texas this morning.
And now we’re about to play for our fourth state title.
“Yeah man, I hear it. Crazy, right?”
“There has to be more people than last year.”
Of course there is. We are the best.
I slap my girl’s ass as she passes by with her white, gold and red cheerleading skirt flipping up as she runs. She turns around and saunters up to me with that look in her eye. I know what she’s expecting and I plan to deliver.
“You know how sexy I think you are when you bite your lip? You have this look in your eyes, Liam. Do you have plans for us later?” she whispers into my ear. My focus is now solely on her instead of the game as her hand sneaks under my t-shirt. There is nothing better than her skin against mine.
“Knock it off you two,” Mason says as he slaps me in the back of the head. “If you give him a stiffy during the game, some linebacker is going to break his pecker.”
We all start laughing. She kisses me goodbye, telling me to kick ass. She never wishes me good luck, just to kick ass.
I slip on my helmet and run out onto the field. We run through the cheerleaders and the student body. Music is blaring as we are announced onto the field. Parents and fans are on their feet in the stands, yelling loudly.
Mason and I go off to the side and warm-up, always together. We have a routine and we aren’t about to break it now.
When the whistle blows, I take center with Mason on my left. The play is for him. He needs only one hundred yards to break the state record for rushing and I’m going to make sure that happens tonight. Our first play is a hand-off to him; he breaks the first tackle for a thirty yard gain.
We do this over and over until his dad holds up a sign showing 100 and I know. I hand Mason the ball and watch him jog it over to his dad. They hug and the fans go nuts. Mason Powell just set the state’s all-time leading rushing record with nine thousand five hundred and two.
I remember that game as if it was yesterday and standing here makes it feel like it was. I can almost smell the concession stand cooking hotdogs and popcorn. I can hear the cheers and feel the vibration from stomping feet on the bleachers.
I can still see Mr. Powell’s face when Mason broke that record. I wanted my dad to look at me like that.
As I walk around I see us everywhere. The four state titles we won in football and two in baseball. Nick Ashford is staring back at me, his smug smile as he holds his most valuable player award. He wanted to be me. When he came to Beaumont he followed me around. He was always hanging out with us like he was our life-long friend, when all he wanted was my girl.
Other than Mason, I don’t know what happened to any of my classmates. I didn’t keep in touch because I had nothing to say and didn’t want to hear what a failure I was for dropping out of college. I had to make the best choice for me and I did even though I know I hurt everyone that I loved, especially her.
When a group of young kids come pouring in I duck into the bathroom. I’m n
ot expecting them to know who I am, but their teachers might and I don’t want to sign autographs or pose for pictures. I just want to be me even if it’s short-lived.
When I come out of the john there’s a young boy standing at the counter with his hands under the water. I look at him through the mirror. He’s crying even though he’s trying to wash away the tears by splashing water on his face.
He’s sort of small and his hair is a bit longer than normal for boys his age. Maybe he’s being bullied and hiding in here. I hate bullies. Mason and I wouldn’t stand for any bullying when we were in school. We made sure of it.
“You okay, bud?” I ask against my better judgment. I don’t want to know because I don’t want the confrontation, but I can’t stand seeing kids cry.
He nods and covers his face. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” he says. Smart kid.
“You’re right. I just want to make sure you don’t need your teacher or anything.”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Good deal.” I wash my hands looking back at the boy through the mirror. He’s watching my every move, eying the tattoos on my forearms, probably wondering if I’m going to kidnap him now that he’s spoken to a stranger.
“Hey Mister, I know you.”
I wipe my hands on the paper towel without giving much away. “You do, huh?” I say with no eye contact.
“Yeah, you’re the one kissing my mom in the video I have.”
I think back to my many music videos and don’t remember kissing anyone. “Did you see this on TV?” I ask.
“No, you were in a football uniform.”
I freeze. I’ve only ever kissed one girl while wearing a football uniform. I look at the boy, really look him over. His dark hair and elongated chin and his piercing blue eyes. It can’t be.
There’s no fucking way.
“Oh yeah, who’s your mom?” I ask, playing it off.
“Josie Preston.”
“Is that so?” I ask barely able to make the words come out of my mouth.
He nods and smiles real big showing some missing front teeth. “Did you kiss my mom a lot?”
What do I tell this boy? I can’t exactly tell him the truth, especially not knowing what’s going on. “Yeah, your mom was real beautiful. I bet she still is.”
He nods in agreement. I used to think my mom was the prettiest until I couldn’t stand to look her at her and watch her robotic ways.
“I gotta go. See ya around,” he says. Before I have a chance to respond, he’s out the door.
I run out of the restroom and museum as fast as I can. The boy tried to talk to me as I went by, but I ignored him. I need answers and whether I’m ready or not, she is going to give them to me.
I have to slow down when I hit Main Street. I can’t afford someone getting suspicious or risk being pulled over. I park across from her shop and watch the door for a minute. I’ve known about the florist shop for a few years. When our anniversaries came up or I was homesick, I Googled her like a crazy stalker and found out what she was up to, but nothing I read said anything about a kid.
I drive around until its dark, waiting for closing. I don’t want an audience. I pull up just as she steps out with a short red head. They hug goodbye and she looks at me. Her features are soft and she’s not scared of this stranger on a motorcycle covered in black. She doesn’t know who I am, she’s just being friendly.
I have no game plan as I watch her step back inside. She switches the Open sign to Closed. If I’m going to do this, I need to do it now before she locks the door. Leaving my helmet on, I open the door, the bells alerting her to my presence.
“We’re closing up,” she says from somewhere in the shop. I can’t see her, but I can feel her in the room.
I take off my helmet and pull off my gloves setting them on the counter. She doesn’t see me when she comes around the corner.
“How old is he, Jojo?”
My hands fly to my mouth in a lame attempt to catch the gasp escaping. The vase I’m holding crashes to the floor, the water drenching my shoes, socks and jeans. I step around the broken glass and destroyed flowers for a better visual. I close my eyes before looking at the man standing at my counter.
It’s him.
I can sense him; feel him moving across my skin like he’s never left. When I open my eyes, he’s staring at me. I remind myself that I need to be strong. I call the shots here.
“What are you doing here?” I barely squeak out. My voice is hoarse as if I’ve been yelling for hours on end. It’s not strong and determined. It’s not the authoritative voice I’ve practiced in the mirror a thousand times over for this moment.
He moves toward me. I step back and put up my hand. I don’t want him to come any closer. He looks dejected. He puts his hands into his pockets and looks down. I don’t want to look at him, but I can’t help it. It’s been ten years and he’s changed so much, yet everything is the same in the way he looks at me.
“Jojo.”
“Don’t call me that,” I blurt out.
“Why not? It’s your name.”
I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek. I know why he’s here and I want to hate Mason for it. I want to kick and scream and punch him for doing this to me… us. Everything was okay and now it’s not.
He smirks and shakes his head, taking a step back and leaning against the counter. I break eye contact with him when he bites his bottom lip. I clear my throat and move away from the broken glass.
“What are you doing here, Liam?”
He shrugs. “Do you have something to tell me?”
I shake my head, bringing my hand to my forehead to push off the pending headache. This is not happening right now, it can’t be. “No, we have nothing to talk about. You made that very clear that night in my dorm room.”
Liam moves away from the counter, he stops at a few of the plants nearby, rubbing their leaves between his fingers before stalking toward me. I have nowhere to go. I could run, maybe scream and alert the neighboring business next door, but what good would that do? One look at Liam means their golden child is back in town. Everyone will be so happy.
“What’s his name, Josie?” he asks bluntly as he get closer to me.
“Why do you care?” I fire back. His eyes throw daggers. I don’t care if he’s some hot shot musician. He left me. “You should go.”
“Nah,” he says shaking his head. He steps closer and I step back. I can’t move anymore without falling into a display of flowers. He holds up his hands. “I just want to talk. I don’t think you want me to start asking questions, do you?”
I shake my head no. Liam asking questions throughout town is the last thing I want. I don’t want Noah’s name brought up and people pointing fingers at him, even though some already do.
“How old is he, Jojo?” he asks in the same tone he would tell me that he loved me in when we’d walk from class to class or when he’d drop me off after a date.
“He’ll be ten in June.”
He steps back and looks at me. I can see the hurt in his eyes but I don’t care. He left me. He left me to raise a baby on my own.
“What’s his name?” the hurt evident in his voice, but I can’t let that get to me. I can’t. I need to be strong.
“Noah.”
“When can I meet him?”
I laugh at his question and take this opportunity to move away from him. He stays where he is. I move behind the counter and start putting my things away. “You can’t, there’s no need.”
“What the fuck do you mean I can’t? I have a son. A son that you kept from me and you’re telling me I can’t meet him?”
“What makes you think he’s yours?” I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth. Sheer pain washes over his face and I feel a small amount of elation for hurting him.
“You’re telling me you cheated on me? Is that it, Jojo?” I don’t have time to react before he’s next to me. His cologne overcomes me, making my heart beat faster. Over the yea
rs I’ve wondered if he’d changed the Burberry cologne I bought him, but he hasn’t and I have to fight every desire I have to reach out and touch him.
“I love you, Jojo,” he whispers into my ear. He moves with fluidity and desire. I know I’m his first, I’ve never doubted that. I bury my head into the crook of his neck; he smells so good, desirable, and sexy. My body sings a song and only he has the melody.
I look into his eyes, his forehead rests upon mine. His mouth drops open when my fingers trail down his body, pushing him deeper.
“You’re so perfect,” he kisses me in between the words, showing me how much he loves me.
“I love you, Liam.”
“You’re forever my girl.”
“Why are you flushed, Jojo?”
“Please stop calling me that,” I all but beg. He steps away and leans on the other side of the counter.
“Sorry,” he says. He starts playing with his lower lip and I want to slap his hand away and tell him to knock it off. “Did you cheat on me?”
I can’t answer him. I don’t want to answer him. Even if I did it’s none of his business, but he knows me. He knows I didn’t, he’s just waiting for confirmation.
“You don’t get to come in here and demand answers, Liam. You’ve been off playing rock star. You’re the famous Liam Page. You left this,” I spread my arms around and point to myself. “You left me. There’s no room for you here.”
He laughs. “That’s not very hospitable of you. Whatever happened to the old adage that you can always go home?”
“People don’t disappear without a freaking phone call or letter for ten years. People don’t show up at your dorm and break up with the one they said they love and never return phone calls.” I hide my face behind my hands. I didn’t want this to happen. I could’ve gone twenty years and been okay without seeing him again. I fight to keep the tears away. I’ve shed enough tears over this boy to last a lifetime. I can’t shed anymore.
“People change,” he says.
“I don’t want to do this with you.”
“Right now?” he asks.
Liam's Journey Page 28
