The Boom

by Glenna Maynard

  **

  “Where’s Amaya?” Dad asks as I sit my lonely bag down by the door. I’ve been putting off telling them about our breakup.

  “We called things off. With my schedule and her travelling, it just didn’t work out.”

  Cindy frowns. “I really thought you would have a ring on her finger by now.”

  “She’s your boom, how could you call things off?” My dad shouts at me.

  “She’s going to be touring internationally for the next two years. In this last year, we’ve only been able to see each other six times, and maybe talk on the phone once a month, we’re too busy. We’ve been pulling away from each other and it was hurting too much,” I tell them.

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Mom says, her voice catching. “You have Gramma’s ring, you were planning to ask her to marry you for months, and instead of doing that you broke up?”

  “It wasn’t planned, okay? She was already planning to leave me before I got home from the show. I came home early and found her packing.” I rub at my face. “I don’t blame her. Every time she is off I can never meet up with her, and whenever I have down time she can’t meet up with me. What’s the point of being together if we can’t ever be together?” I throw my hands up and go to the kitchen for a beer. Alcohol is the only way I am going to survive this Christmas without her.

  I chug a can down and instantly start on another before returning to my family.

  Raul clears his throat and nudges mom. Narrowing my eyes at her, I see that my mom looks guilty.

  “What?” I bark at her.

  Raul speaks up. “Amaya called us. We talk to her at least once a week.”

  “Okay? And?”

  “She’s been worried about you. Mostly in part of jealousy, the magazine’s she’s seen you pose in with beautiful women, the time you went to the Playboy Mansion…”

  “So, you’re saying she broke up with me because she thought I was cheating?” What the hell? Amaya knows me better than that, I would never hurt her in that way.

  “No, not at all. I’m saying yes, she was jealous, but she wasn’t worried about that, she was upset that you found all this time to party with other women but never time for her, to see her shows, to just be there.”

  Fuck, I never thought of it that way. It’s also true. I’m more to blame over the end of our relationship than she is. I chose partying with my team, doing things my manager and agent booked me to do, when that whole time I could have been trying to see Amaya instead.

  “Just give it some time. You only get one boom. You know good and well your mother and I never had the boom. We just dated like any high school couple would. And the next step was marriage. Once you have your boom you won’t be able to settle for anything less,” Dad tells me.

  “Yeah, but two years?”

  Dad shrugs. “Never know where life will take you. For now, focus on your game, yourself. And when Amaya finally comes back, fight and never let go. Even if it means sacrifices.”

  I glance to the Christmas tree and watch the twinkling lights and imagine Amaya’s face as I propose to her next to it. My grandmother’s diamond sparkling in the lights. That won’t happen now. I should probably give it back to my Grandma, but I can’t bring myself to part with it, yet. I keep thinking that one day I’ll slide it onto her finger. I keep thinking one day we will find our way back.

  I head upstairs to my old room. The sound of my parent’s laughter floats up the stairs. I had that and lost it, and I’m not sure I will ever get it back. I pull out my phone and call Amaya.

  “Hello,” she shouts over music and chatter.

  “Hey, Merry Christmas,” I yell.

  “Tate,” she stutters on my name.

  “Yeah, it’s me.” I sigh.

  “Sorry, I had to step into the bathroom. I’m at this thing for the company.”

  “So, I hear. When do you leave?”

  “Next week. New Year’s Day.”

  I have to bite back my tears as my voice wavers, cracking with all the things I never said to her.

  “That’s great. I’m really happy for you. Let me know when you land, okay?”

  “Sure,” she says with a pause. I wait for her to say more but some guy calls her name and she ends our call quickly.

  Has she already moved on that fast! What the fuck? Is that why she really wanted to end our relationship? I throw my phone against the wall and hear the screen crack.

  My heart crumbles as I hold onto her ring.

  I really fucked up and now she’s moving on. I waited too long to call her. I should have chased after her. I should have gotten her pregnant. An image of her with a swollen stomach, her hand resting on it, wearing the ring takes center of my mind…I can’t stop the pain. I need her. God, do I need her.

  I drown my sorrows and curse her name. I’m seething and want to hit something, so I do. I punch my fist through the wall and trash my room. It doesn’t make me feel any better. It doesn’t ease the pain I’m feeling, and I wish I could get on a plane and go to her to make her see that she belongs with me.

  We should be planning a wedding—a life together, not tearing ourselves apart.

  Fuck love.

  Fuck everything.

  Chapter 34

  Amaya

  One year later

  I’ve not heard back from Tate. I even thought he might’ve sent the flowers that arrived earlier but nope they are from my biggest fan. Even when I was overseas, I still received the letters and dead flowers. I finally told my tour manager about them, but he seemed to think it wasn’t a big deal. He said fans are weird. I suppose they are. I guess I should be happy I have one who cares so much. I would be more concerned if anything odd ever happened, but all I have ever gotten are the notes, flowers, and the occasional box of candy.

  I keep looking to his seat, the one I reserved but he’s not here. Tate promised. Any hour any day. I fight the tears threatening to escape. Courtney worked too hard on my hair and makeup for me to ruin it. She’s sitting next to Tate’s empty seat. She’s the only person I can ever count on. Too bad neither of us are lesbians, we could say fuck men and marry each other. I laugh thinking back at the time I went to that club with Celeste. Yeah, I’m so not into chicks.

  Without a minute to spare, I take my place and wait for my cue. With my hands at my sides, I shake my fingers. I never get nervous jitters before a performance, but this is my big moment to shine, and I’m not sharing it with him—with Tate. He said that he loved me, that he’d always be there for me. I was such a fool. He’s made it to the big time now. Everyone knows his face, his name. He graces the covers of the tabloids weekly. I’m just a girl he used to know. I thought I meant more to him than that.

  I take form and try to clear my head.

  The lights are down, the curtain is up, and the orchestra is paying in the pit. I glide across the floor. One two, three four, quickstep. I count in time to the music, afraid I’ll misstep somehow. My head isn’t in this performance. My heart isn’t in it either. My eyes keep zoning in on that empty seat. My feet move at their own accord, and I move through the motions feeling a little emptier inside every second that passes by that he isn’t here.

  **

  “I’m sorry he didn’t show,” Courtney says, giving me a hug after the performance.

  “It’s fine, I should be used to it by now, right?”

  “Yeah, but he promised he’d be here. This was your first show in the States after being gone for a year and you were the star. Your face and name has been on TV, on billboards, in the paper.”

  “It’s been a year. He’s probably moved on, made an empty promise. Whatever.” The two-year tour went down to one year after my male partner blew out his knee. Tate and I have emailed when we could, just talked, as friends. Even though I so badly wanted to tell him I loved him or hear those words from him. And when I spoke with him last week he promised he’d be here to see me. Especially since I’m in town and he lives here and his game is here this
weekend too.

  “Want to go out and get drunk?” I ask Court.

  “Yeah babe, but remember, it’s just you, I’ll DD,” she says with a small smile, rubbing her nonexistent baby bump. Big Tex and Courtney are still going strong, almost two years of marriage and now a child on the way. Every day I wish I could go back and that I could have what she has. But I know how that’s not going to happen. I should have known Tate wouldn’t change. Yeah, he was always the best, did everything he could to show me how special I was, but once he got into the NFL I was just a dot on his radar. Broken promises from him are nothing new.

  “Do that, it will be fun.”

  **

  I can’t get Tate off my mind. I know he didn’t owe me anything, but I thought… I don’t know what I thought. I down another shot. Then another. I’ve already had four or was it five? I’ve lost count.

  “Don’t you think you should slow down?” Courtney shakes her head at me.

  “Nope,” I say as the room spins.

  “Let’s have some water, hey?” Tex tries shoving a bottle at me as he twists the cap off. Big Tex showed up about forty minutes ago, once Courtney realized how trashed I wanted to get. He’s been a wet blanket since the minute he showed up.

  I shove it away and nearly fall out of my seat.

  “I think we should call it a night Twinkle Toes,” Tex says and my heart nearly shatters into a thousand pieces hearing what Tate used to call me. Oh God, that hurts.

  “Don’t…don’t you ever call me that again!” I snap at him, stumbling my way to the bar for another drink.

  “Fuck.” I hear Tex shout. Asshole should know better.

  “Hey baby.” I turn to my left and smile at the cute blond haired man next to me. “On me,” he says to the bartender and hands over some cash once I get my drink.

  “Thanks,” I slur happily.

  “What brings you out tonight?”

  I smile at him. “I’m celebrating and having myself a pity party. I had my show tonight, and the man I’ve been in love with for years, broke yet another promise and didn’t show up. So, fuck him.” I shrug.

  He gives me a sad smile as I chug back my drink and slam the glass on the bar top. I hook an arm around the guy’s neck and kiss him. Suddenly, he’s moved away from me harshly. I look to see that Big Tex has him on the ground.

  “What the hell are you doing, Tex?” I shout at him.

  “This isn’t you Amaya. Don’t let Tate cloud your head.”

  “Fuck you, then. Do you want to tell me why Tate didn’t show up? Huh? Want to tell me why I was never important enough for that bastard? No? I hate you, but most importantly, right now, I hate him.”

  Big Tex looks as if I punched him and he staggers back.

  I move through the crowded bar and make my way to the door.

  “Amaya, stop. Let me give you a ride home.”

  “Fuck you too Courtney,” I mouth off and run outside.

  My head is spinning, I need to get away from all these Tate loving assholes, or I need to go lay down. I stumble over my feet as my vison blurs. My mind goes back to the guy at the bar. Something about him seemed familiar. His head doubles behind my eyes, and I feel sick as I remember him—Keith, my first college boyfriend.

  I continue walking down the street as some guy rushes past me in a haze. I wave my hand in front of my face and my fingers look all funny.

  Chapter 35

  Courtney

  I see it happening too fast, and I’m too late. I scream for Amaya as she crosses the street, swaying in her drunkenness. The do not walk sign is flashing in red. The car is going too fast.

  Oh God. “Amaya!” I yell, panicking.

  She stops to look back at me and gives me the finger just as the car clips her and keeps going.

  “Tex!” I scream as I run to Amaya laying on the ground. “Please Amaya, please be okay.” I roll her over gently and see the blood, her leg is bent wrong and bone is sticking out. I’m going to be sick. I cradle my stomach and pray she is okay.

  “Oh fuck,” Tex says running to us. He looks up and another car stops.

  “How awful, they didn’t even slow. Oh my god,” she cries.

  “Someone call 911!” Tex yells, punching numbers on his phone.

  “Tate.” I hear Amaya whimper.

  A police officer is the first on the scene. He’s asking questions when all I want to do is get Amaya safely to the hospital.

  Tex speaks with him, and I hold Amaya’s hand until the paramedics arrive.

  I want to ride with her in the ambulance but the guy says I will only be in the way. He tells me the name of the hospital and Tex hurries to follow closely behind.

  I have Amaya’s phone, while in the waiting room. I call Tate. “Hello?” Some woman answers sleepily.

  “Tate there,” I demand.

  “Who’s this?” She bitches.

  “I’m his fiancé’s best friend. He needs to get his ass on the phone, there’s been an accident.”

  She laughs. “Fiancé, right. If that was true he wouldn’t have fucked me all night. Don’t call again. Tate’s with me now.”

  I hold the phone out not believing my ears.

  She hung up on me.

  “Everything okay?” Tex asks, wrapping me up in a hug.

  “While Tate should have been at the show tonight he was off fucking some whore, and said whore just told me never to call him ever again cuz he’s hers.”

  “You shitting me?” Tex growls.

  I shake my head no. “I can’t believe him. I’m going to kill him. You saw her T, she was devastated. I hate him. I hate him so bad. And she was so angry with both of us.”

  “I know she was, she was drunk, when she wakes up, and remembers she’s going to be upset she said those things to us. We’re not gonna hold them against her okay? I’m gonna give him a call. See what he has to say to me. Fucking prick.”

  Of course, I won’t hold them against her. She was hurting, and needed to lash out. If that meant lashing out at me or Tex, then so be it.

  Amaya doesn’t know this, but over the last year Tate has changed. To the point that if he and Tex hang out, I want nothing to do with him.

  Tex comes back looking angry. “The bitch that answered the phone? That’s his agent. And she basically told me that if people keep saying bullshit about Tate having a fiancé she was going to sue for slander.”

  “She can’t do that, can she?”

  “Doubtful but her father is a lawyer.”

  “Yeah. But mine is better.” I grin.

  “Maxwell family?” A doctor calls, coming into the waiting room.

  “Here.”

  “Relation?” He asks.

  “I’m her best friend, this is my husband.”

  “Her parents?”

  “Can’t make it, but I can put them on the phone right now, and they can let you know you can speak with me.”

  “Do that.”

  What a hardass. I dial Mrs. Maxwell and she answers instantly. “Courtney, baby, what’s going on. How is she?”

  “Mrs. M, sorry, doctor here won’t speak with me until you give permission, I’m gonna hand you over the phone.”

  “Your daughter has a crushed ankle and a clean break of her femur. She needs surgery. We are prepping her now. No ma’am I doubt she will dance professionally again.”

  My hand goes to my mouth. I look at Tex and he shakes his head muttering a curse. He squeezes my shoulder and the doctor hands my phone back.

  “I’ll update you once the procedure is over.”

  I can only nod. Amaya is never going to dance again…this will crush what is left of her.

  Chapter 36

  Amaya

  I wake to the sound of beeping and memories come flooding back. Blinking open my eyes I see Courtney and Big Tex sitting in the chairs next to my bed.

  “Amaya?” Courtney asks the second I try to sit up. “Are you okay? I’m going to call the nurse.”

  She moves out of the r
oom and Big Tex stands. “You scared the hell out of us.” He looks exhausted.

  “Were you guys here the whole time?”

  “Yeah, you got out of surgery a few hours ago, your parents are on their way, we didn’t want to leave you here alone in case you woke.”

  I try to reach for his hand, and when he notices what I’m trying to do he comes closer and touches my hand. “I’m so sorry for what I said.”

  “Don’t, don’t be sorry, just rest, get better, get healed.” I nod, tears swimming in my eyes.

  “Did, is, Tate?” I stutter.

  He flinches and squeezes my hand slightly, shaking his head no.

  That kills, worse than before. At least now I truly know he doesn’t give two shits about me. I’m in town, in an accident, and he doesn’t bother to call or check in on me. Nothing. He can rot for all I care.

  I’m interrupted from my ranting in my head by the doctor coming into the room.

  “Miss Maxwell, glad to see you awake. How’s the pain?”

  The pain in my heart hurts the most, but I don’t say that. “It’s not too bad right now.” It’s mostly because I haven’t even let myself think about the pain to my body, not when I’m more hurt by Tate not being here.

  He goes over a few things in my charts and as he drones on and on and on, I tune him out. “When will I be healed enough for dancing again?”

  The energy in the room goes south, so south I feel a chill.

  “I’m sorry miss Maxwell, you will never dance again, at least not at the capacity you are used to,” he states.

  I feel like I was just punched in the stomach and my breath rushes out of me.

  I’ll never dance again? No, how? Why? What did I do to deserve this?

  I don’t even get to question or grieve the loss of my dream. A cop comes into my room to question me.

  He’s an older man, reminds me of my Uncle Tim in a way, he has dark green eyes like his. “I wanted to let you know that we got that guy that ran you down in the street.”