Holding Onto Forever (The Beaumont Series: Next Generation Book 1)

by Heidi McLaughlin

  Maybe I have died and this is me as a ghost, standing on the outside and watching as my family falls apart. We’ve always been a strong unit, supporting each other’s goals and aspirations. Growing up, our parents encouraged us to find ourselves and to follow what we love. It’s how I ended up in Chicago while the rest of my family lived in Los Angeles. Elle wanted the sun, the sand, and surfers. Quinn wanted the music scene. My parents wanted solitude and quiet. I wanted the crazy, hectic life of a sports reporter.

  There’s no doubt in my mind that my time to shine was about to happen. Being on the sideline, even for one game, was going to be enough to catapult me into something amazing. I had big plans for that article even if my professor was the only one to see it. I would’ve used it as a reference when I applied at ESPN or Fox Sports. I suppose meeting Kyle changed all that.

  Speaking of, I still don’t know where he is. In my current state, it seems that I can roam the halls freely. I’ve tried to converse with the nurses and other staff members, but it’s as if they can see right through me.

  The hall is quiet, except for the annoying beeping sound coming from every room on this floor. I peek in each one, most patients are sleeping and only a few have people in them. My room by far is the most packed with bodies, all here to say goodbye according to the doctor that stuck those odd drumsticks into my chest.

  Yet, I’m not ready to go. I’m not done being me. I continue to visit each room, looking for someone like me that can tell me what I’m going through. Is this common for people who have died? The only other person I know is my father and I was far too young to remember anything other than his funeral. Sure, I can recall bits and pieces of my life with him, but his funeral is vivid and often plays like a movie when I’m not sleeping well.

  The double doors open when I approach. This hall is far quieter than the one I was just in, with the only sound coming from the television. The noise is easy to follow and I’m surprised to find the room empty when I arrive. Whoever left it on would be in trouble and on dish duty for a week in our house. That thought makes me giggle a little bit because it was always Quinn who left something on and was stuck with that horrible chore.

  As I approach the elevator, it opens for me. I’m alone and the number for the fifth floor is lit up but once the doors close they open again. There are a lot of people waiting to get on so I step off quickly, not wanting to be the reason they’re held up any longer.

  This floor is busy with nurses walking up and down the hall, patients being wheeled in their chairs to their next destination and a police officer standing outside one of the rooms. That’s the one I go in, curious as to what they did to warrant a policeman to stand guard at their door.

  It’s Kyle! I rush to his bed only to realize that he can’t see me either. His leg is in a cast that extends up his thigh and his arm is bandaged. He’ll surely be done for the season with an injury like that, and he’s probably very upset about it.

  There’s another officer in the room talking to Kyle. It’s only after I hear my name that I start to pay attention.

  “Tell me again how you met Peyton James?”

  “It’s Powell-James,” I tell him, but he doesn’t seem to repeat the change. My dad has always insisted that we hyphenate even though it can get a bit tedious.

  “I met her before warm-ups. I thought she was beautiful and she knew her stuff about football. That was an instant turn-on so I asked her out.”

  “Kyle that’s so sweet,” I say.

  “You said thought?” the officer says to Kyle, which confuses me.

  “She was dead… I mean…” Kyle shakes his head and looks out the window. I wish he’d look at me so he could see that I’m not dead. I’m alive and standing right next to him.

  “Did she have her seatbelt on?”

  Kyle nods.

  “Were you speeding?”

  He shakes his head. “The truck… I didn’t see it until it was too late. I couldn’t do anything to move my car out of its way.”

  “It’s okay, Kyle,” I tell him as I run my fingers over his hair. He seems to like that since he closes his eyes and leans his head toward me.

  “Were you angry that you lost tonight?”

  I look at the officer and say, “What kind of question is that?”

  “I was, but I was looking forward to spending some time with her.”

  “Me too, Kyle.”

  “When they run your toxicology screen will they find anything?”

  Kyle shakes his head again. “I’m clean.”

  “Kyle stop answering his questions.”

  I turn to find a man walking in the room and handing the officer a card. He seems angry and quickly tosses his briefcase and jacket into the chair that rests by the window.

  “From this point forward if you need to speak to my client, you will do so when I’m present.”

  “Have a good day, Mr. Zimmerman.”

  “Asshole,” the man mutters to the officer’s back. “What the hell happened, Kyle?”

  Once again he’s shaking his head. “I don’t even know. One minute I’m talking to Peyton and the next the roof of my car is flying away and she’s in my lap. There was so much blood and screaming.”

  “She was screaming? That’s good. That means she was alive when they transported her.”

  “No, I was screaming. She didn’t make a sound. She just laid there like she was sleeping,” he tells the man.

  Kyle’s friend leans down and peers into his eyes. I do the same, wanting to know what he’s looking for or what he’s seeing. “Any drugs in your system?”

  “No, I swear to God I’m clean.”

  The man nods and stands back up, but I’m still looking. I like Kyle’s eyes. They’re green, but look lifeless right now.

  “This doesn’t look good, Kyle. If she dies--”

  “She’s still alive?” he asks.

  “Yeah, but they don’t expect her to make it through the night. Her family is with her now.”

  “I want to see her,” Kyle says, but his friend is shaking his head. Why can’t he go see me? Maybe Kyle is the reason I’m not awake yet. Maybe I’m waiting for him. This man should help Kyle to my room so he can see me.

  “Kyle…” his friend sighs and looks out the window. “Her dad is pretty famous and I’m afraid there will be a lawsuit. I don’t want you going up there to see her to be seen as a sign of guilt.”

  I don’t understand what the man means about my dad being famous and a lawsuit. It was an accident and not something Kyle could’ve prevented.

  “I am guilty. I should’ve seen the truck. I should’ve looked again before pulling out. She’s up there dying because of me. Her family needs to know that I’m sorry, that I was taking her to dinner after the game because I like her, they need to know that I thought she was beautiful and loved that in the few minutes we spoke she had me in awe of her football knowledge. They should know that I never wanted to hurt her and that I wanted to spend time with her and get to know her better.”

  “Oh, Kyle,” I say wishing he could hear me. He turns his head away from me as if he doesn’t want me to see his tears, but it’s too late.

  “I’ll talk to their lawyer and see what the family wants to do, but don’t get your hopes up.” The man grabs his coat and briefcase and hastily leaves the room. Kyle punches his bed with his free hand and slams his head back into his pillow. His tears flow more heavily now and he turns away from me to face the window.

  I take that as my sign to leave and return to the hallway, which is still busy. Nurses run down the hall toward the elevator and I follow, curious as to what is happening. They run through a set of double doors, but I’m unable to keep up. I try to return to Kyle’s room, but can’t find my way back. The only things visible to me are the elevators. I step back on and the number seven is illuminated taking me back to the floor where I am.

  In the waiting room, I see my uncle Liam, holding my cousin Betty Paige. He’s singing to her while he rocks her
back and forth. Paige was such a cute and fun baby, although anytime uncle Liam was around, he was holding her. I heard aunt Josie tell my mom one time that Liam was making up for lost time because he wasn’t there for Noah. The doors open and my dad and Quinn are standing outside the room I’m staying in. They look lost and in pain. I step back into my room to find my sister, mom, my nurse and aunt Josie flanking my sides. But that isn’t who catches my attention.

  It’s Noah.

  My Noah.

  He’s come to see me. To be here when I wake up. I stand in front of him, looking up so I can see his eyes and let my fingers ghost over the worry lines that have seemed to appear on his forehead. The normal vibrancy, the happiness that is usually there is missing. He peers down at my body and chokes on a sob. My instincts tell me to reach out to him, to catch him before he falls, but instead, it’s Elle. She’s there to break his fall and to hold him as he makes the most agonizing cry I have ever heard.

  6

  Noah

  The gut-wrenching sob that gets everyone’s attention comes from me. I can’t recall a time in my life when I have ever emitted such a sound like this, not even when I thought I tore my ACL in high school. My reaction then was purely out of fear and frustration. My response now is all out of heartbreak. I grip the end of her bed to steady myself, to keep my legs upright when all they want to do is collapse, but Elle’s arms wrap around me and I sag into her.

  My mother is there too, helping Elle hold me up so I don’t fall on top of her. She whispers that everything is okay, but I know it’s not. Peyton looks nothing like the girl I watched grow up into a beautiful woman. Her face is swollen and bruised. Her long brunette hair is missing on one side. And arms that have held me more times than I can count are bandaged and laying at her side, unmoving.

  “What happened to her?” The words are barely spoken but heard loud and clear by everyone.

  “The truck hit her head on, Noah. You need to tell her goodbye,” my mom says as her tears dampen the side of my cheek, at least I thought they were hers until she wipes my face, clearing mine away.

  I shake my head. “I won’t. That was a promise we made to each other years ago.”

  “She’s leaving us, Noah. You have to tell her it’s okay to go be with our father,” Elle begs me to do the unthinkable, but I still refuse. It’s a long-standing thing between us. We never say goodbye unless we’re singing Bon Jovi’s song. I don’t remember how it started, but I remember the last time she tried to say it and I wouldn’t let her.

  Seeing Peyton’s number flash on my screen shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. We haven’t spoken in months, not because we’re mad at each other, but because I’ve been busy and she’s been trying to give me the space I need to get acclimatized to the NFL. I’m in my second year, and there are times when I still find myself shaking in my cleats. I’m getting better, but… well, I’m always going to have doubts that I’m not good enough.

  “Noah,” Alex Moore calls my name, taking my attention away from my ringing phone. I send Peyton to voicemail and rush over to where Alex is standing with two women. Dread washes over me the closer I get. Since the Portland Pioneers drafted me, he has been trying to set me up with anything that crosses his path. Of course it only works if the babe he’s interested in has a friend, otherwise he’s not willing to share.

  “What’s up,” I say to Alex as we shake hands and the two women stand there watching. I try not to look at either of them. It’s not that I’m playing hard to get or that I’m not interested, it’s because more often than not, they’re only interested in one thing. This was something I witnessed first hand when it came to my dad and his career. There was always someone who didn’t give a shit that he was married or that Betty Paige and I were with him. They’d hit on him, throw themselves at him or proposition him, always promising him something better than what he had at home. How my mom could put up with that, I never knew or understood until my senior year in college.

  The team was really good that year and suddenly I was the most popular guy on campus, at least during the fall. It was as if I was an overnight sensation. Not only was I the starting quarterback, but also Liam Page’s son and that made me the most eligible man on campus, meaning women were throwing themselves at me. I entertained a few, but none that I wanted to bring home to my parents.

  When I was drafted, the attention from the opposite sex grew exponentially. It’s everywhere I go. If I’m at the store, the gas station, walking down the street or even running out onto the field, I can hear them calling my name, telling me that they love me.

  My father always told me to never say it back unless I meant it. He said that while fans love you because you bring a certain amount of joy to their lives, you appreciate them. The word love is to be saved for the people that mean the most in your life. I have always heeded his words and aside from my parents, sister, and grandparents I haven’t told anyone that I loved them. Not even my high school girlfriends.

  Alex introduces me to his new friends, Sabrina and Sadie, both of whom are models. He suggests that we go out on the town and before I can respond, my phone rings again.

  “I’m sorry, I have to take this,” I say as I step away from Alex and the women. I can hear him grumbling as I walk away, but that’s par for the course with him. He’s all about one thing and usually has no problem achieving his goal.

  Looking quickly down at my phone, Peyton’s name and number are there. She usually leaves a message, knowing I’ll call her back, but not this time. I don’t know whether I should be concerned or not.

  “Hey.”

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” she asks. That is how she normally starts our conversation, always conscious that I might be in the middle of something or about to become busy. There was a time in college when I would drop everything to talk to her, but those days quickly faded when I was drafted. Even in college, I would drop everything when she would call, often pissing off whatever girlfriend I had at the time. They were jealous of her and it didn’t matter that I told them they had nothing to worry about, they never believed me.

  “Just got done working out. What’s up?”

  “My prom is this week.”

  “Ah, joyous time. Remember to smile nice and bright for your mom.”

  “I don’t have a date,” she says, rendering me speechless. It’s not that guys don’t ask her out, they do all the time because Quinn fills me in, so I’m a little flabbergasted by her statement.

  “How is that possible?”

  She sighs and I swear I hear her sniffle. “Stupid Diana told everyone that you’re taking me to prom and even though I told everyone that wasn’t the case, no one asked me and now everyone has a date.”

  Diana Jenkins has been a thorn in our sides for as long as I can remember. Her mother moved to town after she became infatuated with my dad’s band. Diana immediately tried to submerge herself into our tight-knit group. It didn’t go so well and she’s been a pain ever since.

  “When is prom?”

  When she gives me the date, I cringe. It’s at the end of the week. I pull my phone away and open the calendar app to check and see what I have going on this weekend. Thankfully, I’m free and can’t believe what I’m about to do.

  “Do you have a dress?”

  “Yes, why?” she asks.

  “I need to know the color so I can match my bow tie.”

  “Noah,” she drags my name out. “I didn’t call and tell you this because I need you to take me to prom. I need to know how to handle my mom because when I tell her, she isn’t going to be very happy. In fact, she may cry and you know how I am when she cries.”

  It’s how we all are. Growing up I never knew Katelyn to be a crier until Quinn started high school then she went on this mom kick where everything was documented and he, along with the twins, had to partake in every rite of passage. Thankfully, the age difference between us meant I got off free of having to do anything I didn’t want to, not that my mother didn’t
try and force me.

  “Peyton, I want to take you to prom. In fact, I’d be honored.”

  “No, Noah. People will bug you for your autograph. I don’t want that for you.”

  “It’s too late, I already ordered my tux.” It’s a lie, but one that she’ll buy.

  “Noah,” she whines. I already know what’s going on in her head. She has held our friendship close to her heart and more so since she arrived at high school and I was in college.

  “I want to do this, Peyton.”

  “You won’t be mad?” she asks.

  “At you? Never in a million years. Be ready for the time of your life.”

  “I gotta run.”

  “Okay, well goo--”

  “Don’t say it, Peyton. It’s our deal, remember?”

  “Only because of that stupid song.”

  “You love it and we’ll dance to it at prom. See you soon.”

  As soon as I hang up I text my mom and tell her I need a tuxedo and to have it at the house for Saturday. Like any other mother, she asks me why and I tell her that I’m coming home to take Peyton to prom. I know for a fact that Peyton won’t tell anyone because she feels like she’s bothering me. Someday, I hope that she realizes that she never is.

  I go back to Alex and the two ladies, who I thought would’ve left by now and try to engage in a conversation with them. My mom, dad, and Katelyn are all texting me and instead of being rude and answering them, I toss my phone into my bag so I can’t feel it vibrating.

  Alex suggests we all go out and grab dinner, I agree and offer to drive until Alex pulls me aside.

  “You take Sabrina. I’m getting vibes from Sadie.”