Focus on Me

by Megan Erickson

  I was in the kitchen of Patty’s cutting French fries. We had this cool machine that cut the fries for us. I set a halved potato on top, pressed down on a lever, and a platform shoved the potato through a sharp grid below it. Boom. Instant French fries—well, after the frying. Plus, it was a good way to get out aggression.

  The last e-mail I’d sent to Riley had been that morning. I’d finally used the dog as a pawn. Dallas misses you. I snorted to myself as I slammed the lever down. Another couple of fries fell into the bucket below me.

  I heard a shuffling and turned my head to see Jess’s best friend, Quinn, drag in another bag of potatoes. He laid the bag beside my foot and then straightened, brushing a lock of red hair out of his face. “Your mom asked me to bring these to you.”

  I nodded, knowing the bag I was working on wouldn’t last the lunch rush. I continued to make the fries, until I realized Quinn was still standing there. I paused with my hand on the lever and eyed him over my bicep. “You need something, Quinn?”

  He ran his teeth over his bottom lip, blue eyes on me. I’d always thought Quinn was cute. But he was my sister’s best friend, and only worked at Patty’s over the summer. He was smart like my sister and went to the same college she did. Plus, doing anything with him felt icky because of how close he was to my sister. And now, I didn’t feel anything for a face that wasn’t Riley’s.

  “Do you want help?” he asked.

  Jess had told me before that Quinn had a crush on me. I liked to pretend I never knew that. “Nah, I got it. Thanks, though.”

  “Okay.” He still didn’t move.

  “Okay.”

  I went back to making the fries, but had to stop again when his soft voice said, “Colin?”

  I paused. “Yep.”

  He swallowed and shifted his weight. “Jess told me about your friend—er, boyfriend—and I just wanted to say that I hope he gets better. And I’d love to meet him one day.”

  Jeez, this kid. So fucking nice. I wondered whether he’d get walked all over in school by some asshole, but Jess had said he was holding his own. I clapped him on the shoulder, despite the pain that flared to life again in my chest. “I appreciate that. Thanks a lot.”

  He nodded with a small smile, and his shoulders relaxed. “Okay, I gotta get back to clearing tables.”

  “See ya, Quinn.”

  He gave me a wave over his shoulder.

  ***

  Later that night, I was out on the back porch of our house. I had a beer in my hand and my feet were propped up on the deck railing.

  I was thinking that I should probably get my own place. Maybe a cheap apartment near Patty’s. Without Riley around . . . well, I kind of just wanted to be by myself. With Dallas, of course. He sat at my feet now, chewing on a rawhide bone I’d picked up. I’d taken him to the vet a week ago. He was up to date on all his shots now, and I forked over the money for a microchip. I didn’t want to lose him. Riley’d kill me.

  At least, I thought so.

  Jess walked out of the back sliding glass doors as I took another swig of my beer. She sat down on the chair beside me and pulled her knees to her chest. “Hey, you.”

  “Hey, you,” I said back.

  She stared into the dark wooded area behind our house. “What’re you doing out here?”

  I shrugged. “Just thinking.”

  She waggled her fingers and Dallas trotted over to perch at her feet.

  “I think he likes you better than me,” I said.

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  I took another sip of beer.

  “So what if you don’t hear from Riley again?”

  I choked, sputtered, and spit my beer all over myself. I dropped my legs to the deck and wiped off the beer splatter on my leg and stomach. “Can you warn a guy before you ask a question like that? Holy hell, Jess.”

  She looked chagrined. “Sorry.”

  I slumped back in my chair and let my head fall back. I closed my eyes. I thought this so many times. The what ifs had run through my head over and over again. And really . . . what other answer was there? “I’d live with it.”

  “What?”

  I rolled my head and opened my eyes. She had an elbow on the armrest and her chin in her hand. “I’d live with it. I’d go to work and eventually I’d have another relationship. I’d live with it. We all have heartbreak sometime in our lives. Riley was mine. And I’d have no other choice but to move on.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay, I think that’s a great attitude to have.”

  “You sure you don’t want to do counseling?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well hopefully this will make you feel better—Riley called your cell while you were in the shower earlier.”

  I jolted forward. “What? Riley called? What the hell? Why didn’t you—”

  “Calm down. I told him I’d get you, but he didn’t want me to. He just said . . . to visit him at SkyHope tomorrow. Between ten and four.”

  I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Tomorrow?” My voice cracked.

  She nodded. “Tomorrow.”

  I leaned forward. “How did he sound? Happy? Anxious? Sad?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know him. I think he sounded . . . fine. Maybe a little anxious.”

  I stared down at my hands clasped between my knees. “Holy shit, I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

  “Please don’t do that.”

  “That’s all he said? That I was to visit tomorrow?”

  She nodded. “I told him that wouldn’t be a problem. That you’d be there . . .” She bit her lip. “That was the right answer, right? You’ll visit him?”

  “Hell yeah, you kidding?” I ran my hand through my hair and then rubbed the back of my neck. “Shit, what if . . . what if all he wants is closure?”

  “Colin—”

  “Why in the hell would he want someone like me? He’s a fucking model, for God’s sake. He’s gorgeous and smart and funny. And I’m just . . . me. I smell like barbecue and I drive a shitty Jeep. I don’t . . . what do I have to offer him?” I looked at Jess pleadingly.

  Her face darkened and her mouth tightened. “Colin Michael Hartman, don’t you ever let me hear you talk about yourself like that.”

  I started laughing. Which made Jess’s face morph from anger to confusion. And maybe some concern. But all I could think about was the time Riley called me by my full name and used ‘Francis.’

  I still hadn’t cut my hair. I thought I looked like a shaggy dog. I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about something Riley said and . . .” I waved a hand. “Never mind.”

  “I don’t understand how you can think he wouldn’t want you.”

  I shrugged.

  “You told me what he said to you on the pier. You told me—”

  “Jess, he was clinging to anything he could. And I happened to be there. I don’t know if he actually meant what he said or if he was desperate to latch onto the reason he was staying alive.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  I thought about all the happy times we’d had together—all the words we’d whispered to each other while in bed with skin pressed against skin. But I wasn’t sure what Riley would emerge after treatment. I didn’t know if that Riley would still give a flying fuck about some guy from North Carolina.

  If I dug deep into my heart, I believed Riley cared about me, and that scared me the most because that meant I wasn’t letting go of hope. That meant I was going to show up at SkyHope right at ten in the morning. And I was going to hope that the Riley who greeted me wanted me there.

  “No, I don’t believe that, Jess. I don’t. And that’s what scares me the most.”

  She reached out her hand and gripped mine. “I know. But you’ll go tomorrow, right?”

  I turned my hand over so our fingers laced together. “You bet your ass I will.”

  Chapter Twenty-one
r />   SkyHope was much less intimidating during the day. I pulled Butch into a parking spot facing the building and squinted up at it through my windshield. I was early. I glanced at my watch. Okay, really early. I’d woken up before my alarm after a fitful sleep, so I’d thrown on my clothes and driven the couple of hours to SkyHope. I’d stopped at a gas station about a mile away to piss so I didn’t have to go running into the building like a freak.

  I sighed and glanced at the backseat, more out of habit than anything. I hadn’t brought Dallas. It was too hot to leave him in the car even with the windows cracked. I hoped I didn’t let Riley down, but there was nothing for it now.

  I hoped I was enough.

  I glanced at my watch again, muttered “Fuck it,” and got out. Whatever. Maybe they’d make me wait in the lobby.

  Each step toward SkyHope was filled with a nervous excitement. The place was almost pretty, now that I looked at it. A small water fountain trickled off to the side. I threw my empty coffee cup in the waste can near the door, wiped my damp hands on my jeans, and stepped in front of the automatic doors. They opened in front of me on a whoosh, and then I was inside.

  It was nice inside. All creams and beiges and blues and greens. It was busy, too, with what I assumed were employees wheeling carts or walking holding clipboards. I smoothed the front of my shirt down. I’d worn a simple blue T-shirt that was a little snug. Riley had told me he thought it looked good with my “coloring.” And since he was the expert in that sort of thing, I took his word for it.

  In front of me was a front desk. The lady behind it sat with a bent head behind a layer of glass. My boots sounded loud on the solid floor as I stepped up to it.

  The receptionist raised her head and slid open the glass window. “Can I help you?”

  “I-I’m here to see a patient.” Was patient the right word? “Er, client? Um, R-Riley Sorenson.” Since when did I stammer this badly?

  “Your name?”

  “Colin Hartman.”

  The woman’s face changed slightly, softening. “Please have a seat and someone will be with you shortly.”

  Okay then. I turned around and sat down in the small waiting area off to the right. The chair was vinyl and made a loud fartlike sound when I sat. I looked around but no one noticed.

  I resisted the urge to lower my head between my legs and work on my breathing. I had to get myself under control.

  A TV was on in the waiting room and I stared blankly at it, not really paying attention to the news. I was there for maybe ten minutes when I heard, “Are you Colin?”

  I jerked my head up. A nurse stood in front of me. Or, I guessed she was a nurse. She wore those white rubber shoes and white pants and a shirt with ice cream cones on it. She was almost smiling, a kind smile that put me at ease a little. She was black with hair buzzed close to her scalp. Her name tag said “Felicia.”

  I cleared my throat. “Yep. Yeah, that’s me.” I stood up and held out my hand. “Colin Hartman, ma’am.”

  She shook it, her brown eyes studying me. “Yes, I’ve heard some things about you.”

  “Me?” That was a squeak. I definitely squeaked.

  She laughed softly. “Follow me.”

  We walked toward a set of doors, and when she swiped a card she wore on a lanyard around her neck, they opened. I followed her through them.

  “I’m Felicia, by the way,” she said. “Riley’s in the main room. He normally has therapy now, but he told us he might have a visitor, so he’s skipping this session.”

  Well now, I didn’t want him doing that. “He didn’t have—”

  She waved a hand, and kept talking. “He’s with Kara right now. They’ve become fast friends. He’ll tell you about her, I’m sure. They have a lot in common.”

  My head pounded. The white walls were starting to hurt my eyes. I appreciated Felicia’s presence and calming voice. Without her, I might have turned around and walked back out.

  But this Colin didn’t quit when things got rough. At least, the Colin I wanted to be.

  We walked through another set of double doors into a large room. It was lined with large windows that overlooked the acreage behind SkyHope. It was bright, too, with high ceilings etched with skylights. I took a deep breath, feeling much less claustrophobic.

  Felicia pointed toward the back of the room. “There he is with Kara.”

  Riley’s back was to me. He sat at a table with a very pretty girl, a brunette with large eyes and a full mouth. They had playing cards in their hands. Riley’s laughter drifted over to me, and that hope in my chest sparked, bright and full.

  I hadn’t known if he’d be listless or angry or sullen or manic. I realized that was where a lot of my anxiety was coming from. But that laugh . . . well, that was a damn good start.

  Felicia led me over to the table. “Riley,” she said.

  He spun around.

  And damn, but I hadn’t realized how much I missed his face. He stared up at me, all big dark eyes, full parted lips, and flushed cheeks. “Riley,” I said softly. I waited, my entire body tense for his next move. My eyes strayed to the card game. I caught a flash of pink and I almost gasped out loud when I saw he was using the pig playing cards that he’d bought at that shop.

  Did that mean anything? What hand would Riley deal me? Was he folding or all in?

  Fingers closed around my wrist and my gaze jerked back to Riley. He tugged so I sat down at the empty chair beside him. He had a brilliant smile on his face and that should have eased me, but there was something slightly off about it . . .

  “This is my boyfriend, Colin.” He squeezed my hand, still pinning me with that brilliant, off-kilter smile, then turned back to Kara. “He’s hot, right?”

  The girl nodded, her brown hair swishing along her shoulders. “Very hot.”

  “Riley,” I interrupted, my stomach queasy.

  He ignored me. “He’s got that whole rugged cowboy look. I bet he’d look great in a bolo tie.” Riley’s giggle was a little manic and Kara fed off of it with one of her own.

  “Riley.” My voice was more urgent this time, and I gripped his thigh with a hard squeeze.

  He shuffled the cards. “Yes?” Again with the no eye contact.

  “Can we talk somewhere? Alone?”

  The first negative emotion since I’d been there flitted across his face. Just one clench of the jaw. Then that brilliant smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sure! We can go to my room. Be back soon, Kara!”

  She waved, said something about how it was nice to meet me, but I was already walking across the room, gripping Riley’s hand while he trotted behind me. “Which way?” I asked.

  “Through those doors,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. Once we reached the doors, I ushered him through and he led the way to his room.

  Once inside, I slammed the door shut behind me. Riley sat on his bed and dipped his head.

  “What. The. Hell. Riley.” I ground my molars so hard, my jaw ached.

  Riley slowly raised his head. And all traces of happy-fun-time Riley were gone. “I overdid it, didn’t it?”

  His broken, tremulous voice was another hammer on the cracked pieces of my heart. “Yeah, you did. A little bit.”

  He nodded and bit his lip, his head turning so he could gaze out of his window. “Thought so.”

  “Ri—”

  “I wanted you to see that I’m doing better, because I am. I mean, I’m not normal. I’ll never be normal. I’ll still be Riley with all my tics and quirks. But I wanted you to see . . . that I can be . . . good enough for you.”

  That was like a sledgehammer to the midsection, taking out about three ribs. My head whirled as I took a step toward him and then crumpled to my knees between his legs. I gripped his face and turned it, forcing him to look in my eyes. “Are you kidding me? I’ve spent the last couple of weeks losing my mind that you’d come to your senses in here and leave my ass. You didn’t call or e-mail or . . . fuck, I was losing my mind.”

  He reached
up and gripped my wrists. “I didn’t take your calls because I was a mess. I had to get used to my medication and I was pissed about what they were making me eat and . . . it wasn’t pretty. I wanted to wait until I felt like I was okay enough for you to see me.”

  His voice, the pain in it, was killing me. All this time I was losing my mind over him, and he was doing the same, with a mind that already wanted to kill him. “Jesus, Riley, I’m not the one who’s not good enough. I’m the one who didn’t see how bad you were hurting and get you help faster.”

  He shook his head vigorously, eyes wide. “No, no, if it wasn’t for you, I-I wouldn’t be here, I don’t think.” His head dropped forward. “God, I’m such a mess. I thought you wouldn’t even bother coming. Figured you were happy to get rid of the head case.”

  Anger flushed hot over my skin. “Why would you talk like that? Why would you ever think you’re not good enough for me? Fuck, baby, I’m barely good enough to lick your shoes.”

  He choked out a sob, the tips of his hair tickling my hands as his whole body shook. “I’m a mess, Col. A complete mess, and I think I’ll always be a little bit of a mess.”

  I grazed my thumbs over those perfect cheekbones. “Yeah? Well good thing I hate order. I love you, Catwalk. I love every part of you. All of you. And I’ll be there every time you need to be picked up. You hear me?”

  He was full on crying now, his chest heaving, tears running over his lashes and dripping on my fingers.

  I shook my head. “You still look gorgeous when you’re cryin’, you beautiful bastard.”

  He barked a laugh then, and gripped my face, smashing our lips together in a teary, snotty kiss. I didn’t care.

  ***

  I learned Kara used to model as well. She’d started out as a dancer but a knee injury cut her career short. The pressure to stay thin as a dancer and then as a model caused her to exercise to the point of exhaustion. She had been existing on seven hundred calories and finally got help after she collapsed on a public sidewalk after a long run.