Saving Barrette

by Shey Stahl

  Asa notices. He tries to stop me. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

  I don’t. I cry, shake, and continue.

  “Damn, Barrette, stop.” His voice is soft but strained. With more pressure, he places his hands on my face and lifts. He puts his fingers under my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Stop. You’re upset. Don’t do this if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I cry, my body shaking. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I know you want it.”

  He yanks me up and holds me to his chest. “I don’t fucking care about that.”

  “But you want it.”

  “Well, yeah, but not like this. Not if this is your reaction.” His voice is hard, his eyes tight with anger.

  I rest my head against his chest and listen to the thumping of his heartbeat. “I’m sorry.”

  He wraps his arms around me, rubbing my back. “Don’t be.”

  For a moment, he holds me, and I let him. I breathe through what I’m feeling and focus on him. I refuse to let myself ruin this. I can do this.

  I squirm out of his grasp. “I want to try again.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes narrowing on mine. “No.”

  “Asa.” I sigh and move my hands to his thighs. “The only way I’m going to move on and find myself again is to keep trying. Let’s just… go slower. Tell me what you like.”

  I can see the internal struggle. He obviously wants this. He doesn’t say anything, but his hands fall away. I position myself between his legs. His breathing kicks up. He’s into it and encourages me by saying, “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

  Maybe that’s what I’d been missing before. His words. His reassurance.

  I smile. Though the tears are still there, I’m no longer shaking. My stomach tickles and things are happening. I’m… turned on by it and still don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

  “Is this right?” I ask, pausing to stroke my hand up and down him.

  He nods, his lids heavy. His head rolls back when I go all the way down on him and tighten my lips around him. I do that once, and then slide up again keeping my lips tight like I’m biting, but with my lips.

  That gets him. His grunts and lifts his hips again. Then he yanks me up, off him and onto my back on the mattress.

  “Why did you stop?”

  “I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he growls and positions himself at my entrance.

  I giggle, my lips swollen as his find mine. “Why not?”

  His kisses hold his words captive, but eventually, he mumbles, “Because all I’ve thought about today is this pussy.”

  His vulgar words tremble through me and my legs spread wider. I move my hands to his hips, and then lower and cup his ass, driving him into me. “Do it harder,” I beg, trying to angle my hips at just the right angle to get him inside me further. “Oh my God… it feels so good with you that deep inside me.”

  “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he pants out against my lips.

  “Me too.”

  Somehow, I end up on top of him and we come together. I smile down at him when our movements slow. He’s still inside me, grinning, and then he chuckles. “What the fuck made you want to do that?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it since you did it to me and I never repaid the favor.”

  He lifts me up, wrapping his arms around me. “You know I never expect that from you.”

  “I know.” I trace his jaw with my fingertips. “But I want us to have a normal relationship. One where I don’t burst into tears anytime we do something sexual that reminds me of that night.”

  Shock hits his face and his lips tighten. “Did you remember something?”

  “Your hands.” My words tremble though I don’t mean for them to. “Your hands gripping the sheets…. I remember his hands when he was on top of me. His knuckles were white.”

  Asa sighs, his jaw clenching. He lets go of me and then lays back on the bed. But then he jerks his head to mine. “We’re not doing that again.”

  I glare at him. “Yes, we are, Asa.”

  “No.”

  Anger shoots through me. “Yes, we will.” I move away from him and stand next to the bed. “And I’m going to get really good at sucking your dick and you’re going to come in my mouth. Maybe even all over my face. Something dirty. I’m going to be the best blow-job giver and you’re gonna be begging me for it.” Before I know it, I’m yelling at him and he’s laughing. “Why in the heck are you laughing at me? Stop it.”

  He doesn’t. He’s laughing so hard his chest is shaking, his eyes dancing with amusement. “It’s just funny hearing you say shit like dick and telling me I’m gonna come on your face.”

  Nice. He’s making fun of me. “Ugh, you’re such a jerk.” I turn away from him and stalk toward the bathroom. Slamming the door shut, I use the bathroom and then when I’ve calmed down—not really—I open the door to find him there. “What do you want?”

  He guides me back into the shower, still smiling and turns it on. “Practice makes perfect.”

  Water hits my body, but when he pushes down on my shoulders to bring me to my knees, he winks down at me. I’ve never seen this side of him, so sure of what he wants sexually with me. He’s been just as reserved as me when it comes to trying new things, always afraid of what it will do to me. But this time, this time he’s showing me what he wants, and once more, it gives me the courage I need. Maybe that’s what had been missing before. His sureness that I can do this.

  Water beads down his chest and I take him in my hand again. He smiles. “I really want to come in your mouth this time.”

  And he does. He talks me through it all, telling me how much he loves it and how fucking sexy I am, and then he comes in my mouth. It’s… weird. I had no idea what it’d taste like, but I’m not exactly a fan of it. He laughs when I spit it out in the shower.

  “I said you could come in my mouth, not that I’d swallow.”

  Another laugh as he moves toward the spray. “Quitter.” I slap his shoulder only to have him yank me toward him. “I’m kidding.”

  “I know.”

  He cups my cheeks, his words sincere when he whispers, “I’m proud of you.”

  “I’m proud of you.”

  His fingers brush the tattoo on my chest just above my left breast. The one that reads, “Sometimes fear does not subside and one must chose to do it afraid.” It’s a quote by Elizabeth Elliot, and the quote he placed inside the mason jar he gave me the day he won the Heisman Trophy. On a day where we should have been celebrating Asa, he gave me the words I needed to hear to keep pushing forward because he knew I needed them.

  That tattoo, it’s a reminder that it’s okay to have fears.

  His hold reminds me of the night after I was released in the hospital, when he was holding me because I couldn’t even draw in a breath without thinking I was going to fall to the floor and crumble completely. But this time, his hold means so much more because he’s not supporting me any longer. I’m standing with him.

  When I first started going to therapy, Lexi told me, you tell your story when you’re ready. I loved that she said that to me because it was as if she was giving me the okay to move at my own pace. She gave me control. I didn’t have it completely, fear has a way of holding it hostage, but tonight, Asa gave me back that control I thought I’d lost.

  “COME WITH ME.”

  I sit up and rub my eyes. I look around and notice quickly that it’s not even light outside. I thought we were on vacation and sleeping in. I make eye contact with Asa. He’s smiling. “Where?”

  He motions to the windows. “To watch the sunrise.”

  I sigh and reach for my dress next to the bed. “Are there pancakes?”

  Asa chuckles and tugs on my hand. “Yeah, they serve them on the beach.”

  “Really?”

  He sighs. I’m annoying him. “No, but come on.”

  I groan, and complain, but I follow him outside our room to where Terrell and J
oey are waiting for us. Joey’s holding three coffees. She hands me one, then Asa. “Do you know why we’re up so early?”

  “Sunrise,” the guys say together.

  Terrell rolls his eyes. “You’d think girls would be up for all this romantic shit.”

  Joey slurps her coffee dramatically. “Nope. We value sleep more than romance.”

  I smile. “Truth.”

  On the beach, sadly, there are no pancakes, but there is a boy in front of me, holding my hand and looking rather nervous. I can practically feel his hand shaking in mine.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, walking with him along the shore where the waves tickle our toes and the sky bursts to life with pinks, purples, and lighter blues.

  He runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

  “You look like you did the day the trial ended.” Fear pricks my skin and I curl into myself. I watch his facial features nervously. Is it me? Did I do something wrong last night?

  “You know.” He pauses and squeezes my hand. “When the trial ended, I thought, fuck, finally we can start our lives together.”

  My heart thumps wildly in my chest waiting for his words. “And now?”

  “And now it feels like we’re still waiting to start our lives.”

  I know exactly what he means. We’re in college. We have no idea what the future will hold for us. Yeah, we want that happily ever after as much as the next couple, but what if we don’t get it?

  Asa pulls me closer, his warmth radiating into me. I lift my eyes to Joey and Terrell in the distance, walking the same path we are in so many ways. “I didn’t say that to freak you out, Barrette.”

  I nod. “I know. I totally get what you meant.”

  “I guess I’m just saying that I’m nervous as to what the next year will bring for us. My career is an unknown and I want to go as far as to say I’m going to take care of you, but how can I do that when I don’t know what my future holds for me with football?”

  I lean in and press my lips to his. “If anyone can get through the unknown, it’s us.”

  We keep walking up the beach and before I know it, we’re in loose white sand away from the water’s edge. With a smirk on his lips, he sighs, his breath blowing over my face and then he drops down to one knee. He doesn’t look at me. No, instead, he sweeps sand away and uncovers a mason jar. It’s glowing, like the ones he gave me when helping me through the darkest days.

  His eyes drift to mine and he swallows as he holds the jar up. “I brought you out here at sunrise because this is our beginning. A new start to a life I want to share with you.”

  Tears sting my eyes. In the distance, I can see Terrell and Joey over his shoulder, watching us and taking pictures.

  He’s proposing and I’m sobbing. My hand flies to my mouth, my words caught in my throat when I read the note on the inside of the mason jar, purple and gold glitter surrounding the words Forever?

  My heart twists in my chest as I look down at him, his eyes on mine, hair hanging in his eyes, and then the diamond ring he produces from his pocket. I nod, unable to say the words I so desperately want to give him. He reaches for my hand and places the ring on my finger.

  I cry harder and stare down at it in disbelief. “Just so we’re clear, you’re asking me to marry you, right?”

  His shoulders shake with laughter as he pulls me into him. “Yes, silly girl. I am.”

  I snort, and it’s not pretty. I’m crying so hard snot is literally pouring from my nose. It’s not romantic on my part. Placing my hand on his chest, the ring catches the morning sun bursting to life in the distance. In my other hand, the mason jar I will cherish just as much as the ring on my finger. “How long have you been planning this?”

  Drawing back, he stares at me with a sudden serious edge. “Since we booked the trip. You wouldn’t believe what I had to do to get a glow stick on the plane.”

  I laugh, remembering him freaking out and having Joey take me to get coffee when they searched his bag in customs.

  Within a minute, Joey and Terrell return. “She said yes, right?” Joey asks, her hand in Terrell’s.

  I smile, nodding and showing them the ring.

  “Perfect. Now we can eat.”

  “The buffet is half priced today,” Terrell notes, dragging us toward the hotel.

  We follow, hand in hand, only now everything is different. I don’t fear the future. I look forward to it.

  2 years later

  Seattle, Washington

  Draft Day

  “Steelers, Steelers!” Joey chants, parading around the house wearing her Steelers gear. Shirt, socks, hat, all of it she’s sporting. I just hope the Steelers select Terrell in the draft or his fiancée is going to be pretty pissed off.

  Our house is swarming with people. Cameras. Reporters. Family. Friends. They’re all here for the day. Draft day. The exact moment in my, and Terrell’s, football career that defines how our lives play out. I thought maybe I’d want to be in New York and see all this live, but it didn’t feel right. Being here with family, in our own environment, that felt right.

  Nerves? That’s funny. They don’t even begin to describe the gamut of emotions surging through me. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.

  I breathe in. I breathe out. Nothing helps. I’m left with the same nagging feeling that today will change everything.

  My life now? It’s nothing like I thought it would be two years ago. Two years can change a lot about a person. It can change everything. I don’t even know that guy I was two years ago sitting on the beach in the Bahamas with Barrette. The one fearing what the future would hold and afraid of change. I remember wanting to stay like that forever. I didn’t want to leave that beach because everything was perfect for once.

  That’s not to say it’s not perfect now, but I feared leaving, not knowing what change would happen. And our lives did change. Rather quickly. I went from being a college junior who’d just won the Heisman Trophy, engaged, to a soon-to-be dad. All within a month of leaving. Turns out the Bahamas offered a little more than we’d planned for. A baby. I was teasing when I said I’d put a baby in her but apparently I wasn’t. Nine months later, Crew Warren Lawson was born. And he’s the best fucking thing in the world. We never planned on having a kid in college, but you know, sometimes life just works out that way and you roll with it.

  I’d never known the love a parent truly had until I held him in my arms. Do you want to hear something even crazier than me falling insanely in love with my son?

  The day he was born, Roman was released from jail. While I had mixed feelings about it, I felt like it was a blessing I had the distraction because, in my head, I had visions of showing up at the jail and putting a bullet in his head. Now, I clearly wasn’t that irrational, but I guess you never know. I like to think my mom was watching out for me on that one. She was because instead of focusing on the past that day, Barrette and I were together, sharing the experience of bringing our son into the world. He gave us the strength to see that it didn’t matter what happened, we could push forward. Yeah, it still fucking sucked that the judge was an ignorant bastard, but the outcome remained the same. We had to find the strength to accept that because the justice system failed us—and many others—it didn’t mean that we had to stop living.

  “Are you nervous?” Barrette asks, sitting next to me on the couch at my dad’s house.

  Nervous? Ha. I sigh, flipping my phone around in my hand. “No, not really. Terrified is more like it.”

  She laughs and rests her head on my shoulder. Crew pushes her head away. “No.”

  “I thought when I had a baby, he’d love me. This one just tells me no.”

  I kiss her temple. “I love you enough for the entire world.”

  Livia stands in front of me, fussing over Crew in my arms, constantly offering him toys he doesn’t know what to do with. He’s thirteen months old and Livia thinks they should be playmates by now. She holds up her hands, smiling around the pacifier in her mouth she
refuses to get rid of. “Why he not play with me?”

  “No,” he says, clinging to the football in his hand and glaring at her. He doesn’t say anything but pushes her away with his hand. He’s not exactly the nicest kid. He’s actually kind of moody. Joey says he’s an asshole baby. Terrell thinks he’s amazing. Barrette and I, we think he’s the best baby in the world, but yes, an asshole most days. My dad likes to tease me that I was that way too, but I refuse to see it.

  “He’s shy,” I tell Livia when she starts pouting, already making excuses for my kid being a dick.

  She rolls her eyes and walks over to my dad where he looks probably as nervous as me. He winks at me and I give him a nod.

  “Daddy?” Crew says, pointing to the television we’re sitting in front of.

  My heart swells at his word. He says three words. Daddy, no and ball. Barrette’s not pleased by it. “Yeah, buddy. That’s me.”

  His attention remains on the television above the fireplace. I can’t look at the TV and the predictions they’re talking about. It only makes it worse for me.

  Barrette notices my distraction and reaches for Crew in my arms when he starts crying over Livia taking his football from him. I let her take him because yeah, I am nervous. My career, our future, it lies in the hands of others today. Today I’ll get the call from a GM and asked the words “How do you feel about playing for our team?”

  And I’ll answer with “I feel great.”