A Fresh Start

by Lexi Bissen

  Sean doesn’t answer for a while, but when he does, his body slumps, and he takes a deep breath. “Honestly, Gibson isn’t such a bad person. I’m sure, under different circumstances, we could have been friends. I don’t have the best dating track record, so I shouldn’t have been too quick to judge him. What I didn’t like about you dating Gibson was I knew he would break your heart. I didn’t want you to have to go through that. I knew before there was something going on, much like when you and Rodger were sneaking around. You don’t hide much, Ronnie, and you did the nose scrunch thing most of the time you said you were going to stay at Allen’s. I didn’t want to call you out on it, but when Rodger told me about you two sneaking around at school that day, I finally had proof and I guess I went a little overboard with it.”

  “You think?” I spit out. “It doesn’t matter anyway. He left and he didn’t seem too happy when he was yelling at me last time I saw him.”

  Sean’s eyebrows raise. I forgot I never told him about Gibson leaving, only Jerry knew. “What are you talking about? Why would he leave? Anyone paying attention could tell the guy was crazy about you. It was annoying as shit, but he could never take his eyes off you when you were in the same room together.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. I guess the media found out about him being here and maybe in some way he thought I told them? I really don’t know. He was talking as if I knew what he meant.” I think back to the last words Gibson had said to me, but I can’t remember half of it. That morning, I was exhausted from the night before, but texting Gibson put a smile on my face. Too bad he ruined everything just as I was going to send him that message.

  “Maybe he thinks you’re the one who called the media? From what I’ve read about him in those magazines, they had no clue where he was. After they couldn’t find him, they moved on to the next bit of gossip. Maybe he thinks you tipped them off and that’s why he was pissed.”

  I think over what he says, but Gibson wouldn’t think that of me. “He knows I would never do that to him. The last thing I’d want is for him to be found, because I knew there would have been a chance he’d leave.”

  “Well, someone had to have tipped them off. It isn’t like they just happened to have found out about Gibson’s uncle when no one’s heard of him before.”

  It’s as if I can almost feel the light bulb above my head switch on. I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier, but everything makes sense now. There are two things that happened last weekend. One, Rodger found out about Gibson and me. And two, the media got a tip to where Gibson has been living the past few months. The only answer I can come up with is Rodger’s loud mouth sold Gibson out.

  More and more students start pulling into the parking lot and when I glance at the clock, I see we have fifteen minutes to get to first period. Rodger should be here by now and if I hurry, I can catch him before class.

  Note to self, when looking for a man in the morning, always check the cafeteria first. It’s my third location before I finally find Rodger. Walking straight up to the table, I tap Rodger on the shoulder to get his attention. When he turns around, he’s surprised to see it’s me standing there.

  “We need to talk,” I tell him.

  All the guys around us start “oohing” and “ahhing” like Rodger is some elementary school kid being called down to the principal’s office.

  Rodger turns around and smirks at the guys. “Nothing to worry about, fellas. Ronnie left something very delicate at my place last night. I’m sure she just wants to get it back.” That earns a round of hoots and catcalls. I don’t have the energy to deal with that problem, so I let it go and turn on my heels, heading toward the hallway connected to the cafeteria with Rodger tailing behind me. Once were out of ear shot, I turn around and begin to lay in to the asshole.

  “I’m only going to ask this once and I want an honest answer from you, got it?” I don’t give him a chance to answer before continuing. “Were you the one who tipped off those reporters about where Gibson was?”

  Rodger doesn’t even try to hide the proud smile on his face. “Yeah, babe, and it couldn’t have worked out any better. Got that guy out of my town and away from my girl. I’d say that’s an accomplishment.”

  “I’m sorry, but what? Your girl? Are you seriously telling me you did all of this because you were jealous of my boyfriend?” This guy has lost his mind.

  “Boyfriend?” Rodger says the word like it’s going to grow eight legs and start crawling all over him. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call him your boyfriend, babe. I’m sure you were just a shiny new toy to him.” He scrunches up his nose as he looks me up and down. “Well, maybe not so shiny and new now, but I can look past that. With him out of the picture, I’ll have you all to myself.”

  “You are seriously nuts if you think this is going to get me to date you.” I shove Rodger’s shoulder when he tries to make a grab for my waist and he wraps his fingers around my wrists, making my pulse increase at the pressure.

  I try to pull free, but that only makes him squeeze harder. My breaths start to come out faster. I don’t like the sneer he’s giving me and want nothing more than to get the hell away from him.

  “Listen to me, little Ronnie Hamilton, you’re mine whether you realize that now or later. You always have been. I’m tired of you not understanding it and I’m going to send a message out to all the needle dicks in this school. They will know who you belong to. You’re going to forget about that prick Gibson and learn your place, got it?”

  I’m trying to fight back the tears pooling in the corner of my eyes. I’ve never seen Rodger like this before and it truly has me scared. Even that time he cornered me in my room, he was never this harsh.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” I say a silent prayer to the man above for bringing my brother here at this exact moment.

  Rodger quickly drops my hands and I begin to rub the soreness out of my wrist. Sean’s face is red with anger, but the color drains when he sees me cradling my hands to my chest. One look at Rodger and Sean is ready to pounce.

  “You’re dead, fucker,” he says right before he drops his backpack and connects his fist to Rodger’s face.

  Rodger wasn’t prepared for the hit and goes down with a hard thud. It doesn’t help that Sean has almost thirty pounds on the guy. When I turn my attention back to my brother, he’s picking up his backpack. One hit was enough for Sean. He’s never been one to use physical violence unless necessary, like in football.

  I grab my brother’s arm and try to drag him toward the exit. He pulls out of my grasp and goes back to stare down at Rodger, who is now clutching his jaw. “You ever put your hands on my sister again, you’ll wish all I did was knock you out, you sick son of a bitch.”

  With that, he turns and heads out the door, pulling me along with him.

  Sean and I sit in the truck, neither of us saying a word, both too shocked by Rodger’s actions to speak.

  “I don’t even know what to say right now. I’ve never seen him act like that before, not toward anyone. I’m so sorry, Ronnie.” It must be hard for him, seeing his best friend hurt me like that, which only makes me realize I should have told him about the other incident in my room at the beginning of the school year.

  “I hate to say this to you, Sean, but this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. At the start of the semester, Rodger cornered me in my room and pretty much threatened me to stay away from Gibson. I didn’t take him seriously, but now I’m thinking I should have.”

  Taking a deep breath in through his nose, Sean lets it out slowly before turning to me. “I wish you would have told me this, but I’ll handle the Rodger situation. You have your own problem we need to take care of.” Pulling the keys out of his pocket, Sean starts the car and heads in the opposite direction from town.

  “What? Where are we going?” I ask, trying to figure out his plan.

  “We’re going to get your boy back.”

  The airport is full of people rushing towa
rd their gates or baggage claim. I’ve never seen so many people in a hurry to get somewhere before. I want to ask them where the fire is, but I doubt they’d give me the time of day.

  Sean and I are sitting at the door to our gate, waiting for our seating section to be called. I can’t stop shaking my leg in anticipation of riding on a plane for the first time. It could also be the fact that I’ll be in the same state as Gibson in less than eight hours.

  On the way to the airport, Sean told me his plan. Since Gibson was being a whiny baby, Sean’s words, we were going to go to him and explain everything that went down with Rodger. Since I wasn’t sure where Gibson lived, I took the risk of sending River a message on Facebook. To my surprise, he responded right away with an address, telling me it was about time. Guess I have his approval, which helps.

  When we board the plane, I frown. I always thought it would be…more, but there’s nothing exciting on here. Oh well, not like I plan on flying much anyway.

  After our flight, I want to take back everything I thought earlier about the plane being disappointing. Flying. Is. Awesome. We’re moving so fast, yet it feels like we’re stationed on the ground. Insane to think that someone can create a machine as high tech as a plane.

  We make it to LAX right on time, not running into any problems on the way over. If I thought Birmingham airport was hectic, LAX is like Black Friday shopping at Walmart. People crowd every direction I look, all of them rushing to get to the next place. Luckily, Sean and I don’t have to wait for a checked bag. We head out to the cab and rental car area. After snagging one of the available drivers, I tell him the address River sent me and we head in that direction.

  The car ride is only supposed to be twenty minutes, but with the bumper-to-bumper traffic, we make it to the small, suburban house after almost an hour. After paying the cab driver a small fortune, I take a deep breath and stare up that the house. It’s not what I would have expected for the ex-wife of a rock star. I figured it would be more in your face and flashy. This home is close to how mine looks, except they actually have green grass. Ours hasn’t looked like that since I was a kid.

  Sean comes up beside me, patting my back and giving me his support. He may not realize it, but having him here means more than anything to me. The two of us walk up to the front door, but I’m too afraid to ring the bell. After making no effort to do so, Sean gives it a push.

  A tall, beautiful woman in her early forties answers the door. Her black, long hair is hanging in loose waves and she’s dressed casually in a pair of jean shorts and a flowy tank top. This is not how I envisioned Gibson’s mother. He said she was a drug user, so I assumed she looked like those people you see on criminal shows like Law & Order, but this woman is clear-eyed and gorgeous.

  I don’t realize I’m staring until she bends down to meet me at eye level and slowly says, “Hello”. Smooth, Ronnie. Make her think you’re some creep with a staring problem.

  Clearing his throat, Sean begins to speak. “Hello, we’re looking for Gibson. Is he here? We’re friends of his.”

  Now it’s the woman’s turn to stare. Her eyebrow raises as she takes me in. “You must be Ronnie.” I take a slight step back, shocked she knew who I was right away. That must mean Gibson talked about me. I can only hope what he said to her doesn’t earn me a slammed door to the face.

  Holding the door wide open, she motions for us to come in, and some of the tension in my shoulders eases. Some. “You’re just as I expected, too,” Ms. Mitchell says, not taking her eyes off me. “Let me go grab him. They’re upstairs playing some war game on the X-Box. The living room is right through there, make yourself at home.” She points down the hall and then heads to the other side of the house.

  Even though I’m on edge about seeing Gibson and having him hear me out, her home does relax me. It’s lived in, yet neat and clean. The living room is full of warm, comforting colors that make me want to curl up on the light brown sofa with a good book. This is the home of a loving family—something Gibson never had. He always talked about his house feeling cold inside and the warm colors and lived in feeling is nothing like that.

  Whispered voices come from the end of the hallway. “What?” someone spits out as heavy footsteps head our way. Gibson rounds the corner and seeing him makes me want to run and jump into his arms, but I don’t have the right to do that anymore. I have to sit on my hands to keep from wanting to reach out and touch him.

  Gibson stands there, staring at me. I want to rush out and tell him everything, but I know he’d have a hard time believing me since his trust in people isn’t the greatest. It’s probably not any better now after what he thinks I did to him. River and Gibson’s mom join us in the living room and stare between the two of us, waiting for someone to say the first word.

  Finally, Gibson’s mom ends the silent torture. “Boys, why don’t we head on into the kitchen and find something to eat while these two have their long overdue talk,” she tells Sean and River. The three of them exit the room, leaving Gibson and me alone.

  Gibson takes a seat on the sofa across from me and leans forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “How did you know where I was?” he asks.

  Looking for something to do with my hands, I begin to wring them together in my lap. “I messaged River and after listening to what I had to say, he told me where you were.”

  He nods and runs one of his hands down the front of his face. It’s scruffier than usual, like he hasn’t shaved in almost a week. There are also dark circles under his eyes, making me think he hasn’t slept much. I hate to think all of this is because of a jealous guy and Gibson’s insecurities.

  “I’ll have to thank him for that later.” His sarcasm breaks me down a little inside. I don’t want him to cast me off without listening to what I have to say and giving him the paper that has been burning a hole in my back pocket this entire trip. From the way he won’t even look at me, I’m afraid he isn’t going to hear me out.

  I wish I could reach out and hold his hand, or have any contact with him right now, but I know that isn’t the right thing to do. Instead, I keep my hands in my lap and begin telling him everything I came up with on the plane ride here.

  “The first thing I want to say is I love you…more than anything.” Gibson flinches at my confession, but I continue anyway. “It crushed me more than you will ever know when you walked away with no explanation. I was left standing in the kitchen, hurt and feeling like an idiot because I didn’t know what I had done wrong.”

  Gibson rolls his eyes and I push down the hurt it causes. I know he still thinks I sold him out, but it doesn’t mean his lack of trust burns any less. “I truly didn’t know,” I continue. “That morning, I was typing you a text, telling you I was coming over soon and wanted to talk to you about what happened with my parents, because a lot happened that night. I was also bringing you my essay so you could read it, but none of that happened because you walked away.” All my emotions over the last week start to surface—the hurt I felt when he walked out, the nights I was up crying myself to sleep, the anger because he left without a second glance and wouldn’t let me talk before he was gone. “You have no idea what that did to me, having you leave like that. Even if I were the one who told the paparazzi where you were, you should have stayed there and listened to me—that’s what adults do in this kind of situation. But you ran.”

  There’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes, but changes to anger in a moment of seconds. “What was the point in staying there and listening to more lies? There were stories of me and you all over social media. How else would they have known about us if it weren’t for you or Allen?”

  “I didn’t know about any of that, but you still should have talked to me. It’s what people in relationships do, they communicate, and you didn’t let me that day.” He hangs his head, probably thinking I’m right. “I didn’t come here to rehash what happened that morning. I do understand where you were coming from, but I’m telling you right now that I would never do anything like tha
t to hurt you. I love you too much.”

  “Well, if you didn’t, who did?”

  “Think about what happened Friday. We got caught, remember?” His expression changes when he realizes what I’m talking about.

  “That son of a bitch!” Gibson jumps up from his seat and runs his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth in the small living area. “How could I not have thought of that? Of course that asshole would do something like this. Doesn’t he have anything better to do than mess with other people lives?” This may not be the best timing, but seeing Gibson angry like this is kind of hot. His hair is now a bit messed up from running his fingers through it and he keeps tonguing his lip ring, which makes me want to do that same. Focus, Ronnie, I scold. Now is not the time. My brain knows I need to finish having this conversation with Gibson before anything physical happens, but my body misses the hell out of him.

  Shaking off my lust-filled thoughts, I continue telling him about what happened with Rodger. “Apparently, he thought if you were gone, him and I would be together. None of it makes sense to me. I made sure, over and over, he understood I didn’t want a relationship with him. Maybe he thought I just didn’t want a relationship at the time and since I was dating you, I was ready for one. I didn’t stick around long enough to get everything from him. Plus, Sean knocked him out, so he wasn’t very talkative.”

  “Why would Sean hit him?” Gibson sits and takes a deep breath, calming down.

  “Oh, um…well after he saw Rodger grab me—” Before I can finish the sentence, Gibson is out of his seat again, making his way over to me.

  “He fucking touched you? I’m going to kill him.” He sits next to me and begins inspecting all the exposed parts of my body, which is hard since I’m still in my hoodie and jeans. Gibson does manage to get my sleeve rolled up and freezes when he sees the ring of bruises around my wrist. He grabs my other hand and checks it to see a matching print.