Dare to Dream (Truth or Dare #2)

by Sloan Johnson

  “That’s going to be hard, but it’s good that he’s finally working to make something of himself. I only hope that he’ll be able to stick with it. That boy never was good at holding down a job for very long.” I stare at her, wondering when she became so condescending. It’s as if she’s forgotten that her parents struggled for everything they had. Her father is the one who pushed her to make something of herself, saying that life isn’t worth living if you don’t leave a mark that lasts once you’re gone. She spent my entire childhood reminding me of that statement every time I complained that I didn’t want to continue with dance or the forensics team. Somewhere along the way, she built a pedestal for herself, a perch where she can look down on those who haven’t achieved a certain level of success.

  “Yes, Mom, it is hard. But we love one another and this is Colby’s footprint on the world,” I respond bitterly, hoping it’ll remind her of the words that used to be her mantra. “And just like you were there for Daddy when he was in law school, I’m going to be there for Colby every step of the way.”

  She stands, pacing in front of the row of perfectly aligned plants at the window. It’s a gesture typically reserved for when she knows she’s fighting a losing battle. “You can’t compare law school to playing rock star every night,” she huffs, narrowing her eyes on me. “I know you think you’re in love with this boy, but you’ve been apart more than you’ve been together, by your own admission. You have no clue if the things that simply annoy you when you’re playing house will become deal breakers down the road. And if he were so serious about his devotion to you, I would think it would have been harder for him to pack up and leave. What are you going to do when he strays for the first groupie to flash her chest at him? You know he will.”

  I launch out of my seat, wishing there was a way to teleport myself out of the house and back to the sanctuary of my apartment. “You know what, Mother? If you had taken any time to get to know him in the four years we were friends before we admitted that we were in love with one another, you would know that’s not who he is. He’s a good man who’s never had anyone willing to believe in him. Now, he has that. I’m not the only one who can see how special he is. And as for his devotion to me, you should know that he didn’t want to go, but I told him it was the only way I would be in a relationship with him because I never want him to wonder what his life would be like if he had given up on what he wanted for my sake.” With quick strides, I cross the kitchen to my purse, needing to get out of this house before I say something I can’t take back.

  “Fame changes people,” she says, trying to justify her ludicrous foreshadowing. “It’s all over the news week after week. And you have a year and a half left of school. That would be a lifetime, even if you were both living here. I guess I don’t see how you plan to make it work when you have no assurances that he’s coming home to you at night.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you would!” I shout, not looking back at her. I knew this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, but we didn’t even get to the worst part before my mother turned on me. “And just so you know, you don’t need to set a place for me at the table for Thanksgiving because I won’t be here.”

  The slamming of the front door behind me seems symbolic of the detonation of the bomb I just dropped on my mother. I run across the perfectly manicured lawn to the Cutlass Colby left behind for me to drive while he’s gone, almost breaking down when my senses are filled with the scent of his cologne lingering in the upholstery. Somehow, I manage to make it two blocks to a vacant parking lot before I have to pull over, unable to see the road through my tears. I sure hope Aaron was right that Colby’s simply overwhelmed and everything will be okay because I know my relationship with my parents will never be the same after that little show.

  **

  I click ignore when my Dad calls, just like I have the previous eleven times he’s tried getting in touch with me since I left the house. I’m not even checking the messages anymore, hoping that eventually he’ll fill my mailbox and won’t be able to continue telling me what a disappointment I am to him. How he expected better of me than to lash out at my mother over something as silly as a boy who will be out of my life in a matter of months, if we even last that long. I can assume that’s what he’s saying every time he leaves another message because that’s what the only one I checked said, more or less.

  I haven’t bothered telling Colby what happened because there’s no sense in ruining his day over something we both knew was going to happen. I’ll tell him tonight when he calls me. If he calls. God, I really need to tell him that I need to talk to him, one way or another, every day until we can see each other again. I don’t care if that makes me sound insecure and needy, it’s the only way I won’t start to overthink the fact that I’ve just turned my back on my family moments after my mother did a fine job of planting doubt in my mind.

  When heavy fists start beating on my door, I realize the error in my ways. I should have known better than to think my father would give up when I didn’t answer my phone. Now, I’m going to have to look into his eyes as he admonishes me.

  “Hi Daddy,” I say meekly as I swing the door wide. What I see causes a tight knot to form in my stomach. I was prepared for rage or even condemnation, but my father’s sagging shoulders and vacant eyes convey neither of those emotions. The man standing in front of me looks utterly defeated. Like I’ve cut him so deeply with my defiance that, he’s been gutted to the core. He pushes past me, falling onto the end of the couch.

  “What happened to you?” he asks, shaking his head, eyes not meeting mine. I don’t respond because I can’t think of a suitable answer. I don’t think either of us are up for a fight at this point and everything I could possibly say would be a catalyst to that end.

  I settle into Colby’s ratty recliner in the corner, the furthest seat from my father and the one that can offer me a shred of comfort. For all of the problems, all of my resentment over the way they’ve controlled every aspect of my life, I’m still a Daddy’s girl at the end of the day. I’ve never pushed back when he’s told me what to do because I wanted to avoid ever seeing that look in his eyes. The one that says I’m not his little girl anymore.

  “I don’t think anything happened to me, Daddy,” I admit, so quietly I’m not sure if he hears me. His silence leads me to believe he didn’t, but that could simply be his way of avoiding an answer he didn’t expect from me. “I know you’re mad at me right now, but I love him. And that has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

  This afternoon, I thought appealing to my mother was the best course of action, but since that didn’t work, I have to hope beyond hope that I can still salvage my relationship with at least one parent now that he’s here with me.

  “I’m not talking about that boy, Lea Diane. What made you think it was acceptable to speak to your mother the way you did? Everything she’s done since the day she found out she was pregnant has been for you,” he chides, picking at a loose string on his trousers. “All she has wanted is for you to have the best life possible and you all but slapped her in the face today.”

  I chew on my lower lip, waiting for the lecture to continue, but the only sound breaking the silence comes from the muffled noises of the city outside of my window. In a bold move, I cross the room, coming to rest on my knees in front of my father, hoping he’ll look at me, but knowing that at least he’ll see a part of me if he won’t lift his gaze.

  “Daddy, I know that she thinks she’s done what’s best for me, but the truth is, she’s done everything possible to live vicariously through me,” I say, knowing I can’t make things any worse than they already are. There’s no way of knowing if I’ll ever have this opportunity again, part of me prays I won’t because my heart is breaking a little bit more with every beat.

  “I’m almost twenty-two years old and I have no clue what I want to do with my life. It took pushing Colby to do something uncomfortable to make me see that.” Tears gather along my lower lashes, refusing to
fall. “I told him that he had to move down there so he wouldn’t regret me later. And now, he’s the only piece of my future that seems to fit. I know you and Mom want me there for Thanksgiving, but this is something that he’ll only have once in his life. And Daddy, I know you don’t like him, but he’s good. Real good. I can’t make you see that, but she made some vile accusations that I couldn’t stand around and listen to.

  “And even more importantly, he loves me back. There have been times when I couldn’t even tell anyone that something was wrong, but he knew. He knows me almost better than I know myself and he’d never do anything to hurt me.” Tears stream down my face as I reach for my father’s hands. “Daddy, I don’t expect you to be happy about this, but I hope that you’ll understand how important it is to me.”

  For the first time since entering my apartment, my dad’s eyes meet mine. His expression softens as he searches my face. “You really do love him, don’t you?” he asks softly. I nod, unable to speak around the lump in my throat. He grips my hand firmly, pulling me off the floor to sit next to him on the couch. After he places his arm over my shoulder, I begin to relax, curling my feet on the cushion next to me, leaning against my father for comfort.

  “I still don’t approve of what your mother told me happened today,” he informs me, staring straight ahead. I nod, knowing that I crossed the line. “But I believe you when you say she said things in anger that she might not have meant. Her passion is one of the first things I loved about your mother. Sometimes, that is a weakness more than a strength. And you are what she’s most passionate about. It’s been hard for her to see you growing up, drifting away from us.”

  “But she can’t say things like that and expect them to encourage me to stick around,” I say defensively. “She never took the time to get to know him in all the time we were friends, but now she thinks she can judge his character based on what she’s read about other celebrities in the tabloids.”

  My father sighs, torn between the two women in his life. “You’re right, and that’s partly my fault,” he admits. “I thought he was taking advantage of your generosity for a long time, but knew that you had to realize that on your own. I’m the one who told your mother he wasn’t welcome in our home, and I’m sorry. As for the other, I’ll sit down and have a chat with her. Sometimes, I think she gets a bit too caught up in all those entertainment gossip shows and now, she’s projecting what she thinks is reality onto your relationship.”

  “Just like that? Just two hours ago you were leaving me irate messages, telling me how I would regret lashing out at her in a few months when my relationship with Colby falls apart.” I want to trust what my father’s saying to me now, but it’s too much of a change for me to believe it’s sincere.

  “That was before I saw the look in your eyes as you talked about him. The look in your eyes when you’re sticking up for him is the same one I saw in your mother’s eyes when her father told her that I had ruined her life.” I lift my head off his chest, staring at my father in disbelief.

  “But you and Granddaddy got along,” I say, cocking my head to the side.

  “Yes, by the time you were old enough to remember, we did. But it wasn’t always that way,” he says somberly. “Your grandfather wasn’t a fool. He might have walked your mother down the aisle, but it wasn’t until you were about three that I had his blessing to be with her. By that time, I was finishing law school and I had worked multiple jobs so we could pay for daycare while your mother also finished college.”

  “If Mom went through all that, why is she so angry about Colby and me?” I ask, truly wanting insight because I’d rather not have to live without either piece of my family.

  “Because she’s afraid. Today was the first time you stood up to her and I don’t think she knows how to deal with that.” Again, he stares at the wall on the other side of the room for a long time. “You’re not a little girl anymore and that’s going to take some getting used to. I’ll talk to her about Thanksgiving, maybe offer to take her on vacation this year.”

  “You’re really going to let me go?” I ask, still in shock.

  “Lea, you’re a grown woman. Whether I like it or not, what you do is no longer my decision. I only ask that you don’t allow yourself to be completely blinded by love. It’s going to be even harder for the two of you than it was for your mother and me.” He shifts beside me and I sit up, allowing him to stand. “Keep your head on your shoulders and your heart guarded and I think you’ll be just fine. Now, how about we get something to eat? Your mother was so upset after you left that she left me to fend for myself while she went to sleep early.”

  “I’d like that. I just need to change real quick.” I turn around as I reach my bedroom door, just in time to see my father wink at me. His face is still somewhat somber, but this time it’s because he’s learning to let go of me, not feeling me pull away.

  Over dinner, my dad grills me about what’s going on with Colby. He seems pleased that Aaron has been there for him, making sure Colby doesn’t jump into any contracts without having them looked over. At one point, he even offered his services, free of charge, if Colby’s interested. When he hands me a check for a thousand dollars, to cover airfare and whatever else I need for my trip, my jaw nearly hits the floor.

  “All I ask is that you remember what I said earlier. Head on your shoulders and keep your heart safe.” He kisses me on the cheek before turning to walk away. I stand in the lobby, watching until he’s out of sight before running up the four flights of stairs to our apartment so I can call Colby.

  Chapter 13

  Colby

  Cameron slaps me on the back, knocking me off balance. After a successful day in the studio, the first rehearsal with my new band and a photo shoot amidst the neon lights of Broadway, all of us wound up at Black Skye to celebrate. Aaron informed me two hours ago that I’m not going anywhere until he’s ready to leave, so I haven’t bothered to count the number of shots appearing in front of me.

  “Colby, my man, you ready for this shit?” Cameron asks, enthusiastically. “A few months from now, you’re going to walk through that door and think about the night it all started. Sometimes, you might even wish you could go back to that night and duck out before you met us…”

  “Not going to happen,” I promise, my words slurred. “Meeting you and Pete is the whole reason I packed all my shit up to come down here. Sure as hell wasn’t so I could listen to Aaron and Becky having sex all night,” I laugh, the statement made more hilarious thanks to too much Patron.

  Aaron slaps his hand on the bar in front of me, causing me to jerk my head up. Fuck, I really need to go home. “First of all, she’ll kill you if she hears you call her Becky. Second, I’m too busy covering for your sorry ass to get any, so if you’re hearing noises from the bedroom, I might need to talk to her.”

  “Fuck, you know I’m kidding,” I say, reaching across the bar to pat his shoulder. “I’m just fucked up, don’t listen to me.”

  “Yeah, no shit.” Aaron chuckles, setting a glass of water in front of me. “Just so you know, you puke in my truck, you’ll be up at the ass crack of dawn to detail it before the sun bakes that shit into the leather.”

  “I’m not gonna puke.” I hope. “Fuck, who let me drink so much?”

  Cameron laughs, pulling up the stool next to me. “Buddy, it’s the only way you’re going to build up a tolerance before you hit the road. Trust me, you’re going to hate me tomorrow, but you’ll thank me next month. Plus, this way you get the need to celebrate out of your system before you can make an ass of yourself. You can be an idiot all you want until you load up on that bus. After that, I won’t be around to save your reputation.”

  He’s a bit unorthodox, but I suppose his logic makes sense. I’ve partied hard, but now that I’ve been focused for a few months, it’s not as much fun as it used to be. And I know he’s right about hating him in the morning. There’s no way I’m getting out of this without a hangover and I will more than likely be worsh
ipping the porcelain god before I go to sleep. Fuck, I have no clue how people do this shit night after night.

  Aaron’s hand comes into view as I prop my elbow on the bar, the only hope I have of keeping my head from hitting the brass rail. This time, he’s holding his phone. “Your phone dead?” he asks, still holding the phone in front of my face.

  I reach into my pocket and see that I’ve somehow missed fourteen calls. “Fuck, she’s pissed, isn’t she?” I ask, reaching for Aaron’s phone, but not putting it to my ear.

  “Right now, I think she’s more worried than anything, but give her a minute talking to your drunk ass and I’m sure she’ll be annoyed with you.”

  My head slips off my hand, hitting the bar. That’s one more pain I’ll have to deal with in the morning. “Hello?” I answer, breathing deeply, as if that will help me instantly sober up.

  “Are you drunk?” Lea asks, laughing. That’s a good sign.

  “Lil bit,” I respond, holding my fingers in front of my face so the thumb and forefinger are almost touching. “What’re you doing?”

  “Now that I know my boyfriend isn’t lying dead in a gutter somewhere in Nashville?” she asks playfully. Something in the back of my mind tells me she shouldn’t be so happy, but fuck if I can figure out why. I’m not going to question it because the alternative is for her to be angry with me for being a drunken asshole and not answering her calls. “I’m going to sleep now. We can talk tomorrow.”

  “No, it’s okay. I just need to get to someplace quieter,” I stammer. Cameron catches me when my body begins to sway the moment I hit my feet. I sit back down, offering him a silent thanks. “Actually, yeah, let’s talk in the morning. Call me before you head to class? And before you say that I need to get my rest, Cameron’s not having us do anything until tomorrow evening, so it’s all good.”

  “Okay, I’ll call you then. Make sure you charge your phone so I don’t wake up Aaron again.” She sighs, like there’s something else she wants to say. Damn, her good mood didn’t last long. “I love you, Cowboy.”