Because there I sat—a meeting with my coach to gather information on how to get released from my commitment, since I had another commitment—one I really wanted to keep.
I tried and failed to get him to understand my desires the prior Friday, so I just thought I would try again. I didn’t need his blessing, but for some reason I wanted it. I needed to know that I was not making a horrible mistake.
Coach came in, and he frowned as soon as he saw me. “Josh, I already told you last week that this is a bad idea. Why do you want to give up this opportunity?” he asked in a disapproving tone.
He told me to sleep on it over the weekend and to give it some real thought. I had, and more than ever I believed staying in Texas with Riley was the right decision. Seeing her in that hospital bed and thinking about losing her—well, I didn’t want to ever let that happen. I knew I couldn’t leave her, not after spending the past few days with her—we’d worked so hard to get here. Not to mention, when she admitted all of that stuff to me at the park, and I told her I would be there with her—I knew it would be impossible to go.
“Because Coach, sometimes other opportunities are more important.” I admitted, hoping he’d understand but when I saw his expression, I knew that he hadn’t.
His mouth set in a straight line, and I was pretty sure he wanted to kick my ass. “Look, boy...I know about you and that girl. Your head has been preoccupied for weeks, but you need to pull your head up and get it back in the game. Balls to the wall—own up to your commitment—you signed that scholarship, and it’s a damn good opportunity for you, not to mention this school. A year fully paid to do jack shit but learn under some of the best. I don’t support any of this nonsense, Parker. I don’t think your dad will either. A pussy is a pussy whether here or there. So man up,” he growled at me, slamming his hand down onto his desk.
I stood up, feeling angry at his assumption about Riley and me. “Coach, I came to talk to you because I wanted you to understand, but I don’t need your judgment, or for you to agree. I can call the recruiter myself, and I will. This isn’t just about some piece of ass. I love that girl. I know well and good that long distance relationships don’t work. If I keep my football commitment, I might as well say fuck it, to the one that matters the most to me.”
He stood, as well, and again I thought he would punch me the fuck out. Coach is known for drilling sense into his team with harsh language and verbal slander, no one questioned him. “You are throwing away your future, and there is no going back on this,” he said sternly.
I nodded my head. I realized that would be the thoughts of many—just not mine. “Coach, if I leave her—I am throwing away my future. She is my future.”
He sighed, sat down and began to circle his thumbs around each other. “Parker, you’ve got real talent…a real shot at going to the pros one day. You’re willing to just throw all of that away for a high school crush?” he asked.
“She is not just a crush. That is what you’re not getting.” I threw my hands up and groaned in frustration.
He shook his head disapprovingly. “You’re right. I don’t get it. If you do this, I can guarantee you will regret it.” He pointed to the door—dismissing me.
I headed to the door, fucking happy to oblige, but before I did, I turned around. “I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for everything that has been offered to me, and all the hard work you instilled in me while I was becoming who I am. I am so grateful, but...I believe if I don’t do this...that will be what I regret.” He frowned and picked up his phone probably to call my old man.
With that, I left.
I’d like to say I didn’t have doubts about the decision, and that I knew for sure that I was making the right one—that I knew for certain that one decision would keep my future (our future together) intact.
I don’t know any of those things, though. I do have doubts. I do wonder if I am making a mistake by choosing to stay. I do wonder if Riley and I will be okay if I still leave. Could we make it work? Could I have her and the scholarship? A free ride—it was a necessary evil. I didn’t have a scholarship to UTA, and A&M is still far away if I choose their offer instead. My dad very well could refuse to pay out of pocket for fees, and all of those feelings make me feel like an asshole, because I desperately, irrevocably and without question love that girl with every breath I take, and every fiber in my being.
My thoughts are all over the place as I sit in second period barely hearing any of the words being lectured to me. I feel conflicted. When I made the decision to sign, I knew the ramifications of it. I knew it meant leaving her, but part of me had been excited, at least, at the time it was. She was with Dean, and for two years I’d watched him have the life with her I wanted. It was painful, so yeah...a little bit of me was excited to start over, make anew. Collin was excited, too. We had discussed that very thing a little later that week.
Back to Monday—after class I was walking to my locker, and I could hear the whispers around me. They ceased when I walked by, so I didn’t hear what they were saying, but I knew it was about Riley and me. I heard her name.
One week. One fucking week and these walls become part of our past. That became my mantra to survive the bullshit that surrounded me—surrounded us.
I never understood why those asshats couldn’t mind their own damn business. All anyone wanted to do was gossip about shit. In the snap of a finger, the gossip flew from one story to the next—no one really cared about its truth. Tomorrow they would be discussing how Brad was rumored to be having an affair with his girlfriend’s mom, just like last week they were bitching about some other lame ass thing— that’s just how shit went in those halls.
I hated the way Riley’s classes didn’t line up with mine. She was on a complete different hall, so I didn’t see her until lunch, and of course my favorite period when we had class together—but that wasn’t until the end of the day.
Collin came up to me with a note. “Dude, what the fuck is this?” he said handing me a piece of paper.
I took it from him and read, for a good time call, and it listed Riley’s phone number. “Where the fuck did you get this?” I snapped.
He looked at me just as shocked as I was. “They are being placed inside guys lockers. I have no fucking clue where they are coming from. That is Riley’s number, right?” he asked.
“Right.” I shoved it in my jean's pocket, and my eyes started eyeing everyone in the hall speculatively. A realization set in that the whispers were probably about that.
“Have you seen her?” he asked.
“No, she doesn’t have classes on this end.” I said, thinking that the day had just got shitloads worse with each passing second. Then he pulled out his phone, “This is also being shared.”
I took his phone, and on display was everything I wanted to forget. In small text scrolling across the screen, what happens when she can’t decide between two lovers?
You have got to be kidding me? She has decided. Two lovers? Those were all words that ran through my mind. I looked to Collin just as the bell rang, “Find out who is behind this shit,” I demanded.
“I’m already on it, Parker,” he said.
Emily sat down next to me in third period, placing a note on my desk. I looked at it and over to her, if it’s another ‘for a good time note’ I may have lost my shit right there in that room. Thankfully, it wasn’t. “What’s that?” I asked, a little harshly.
She frowned, “it’s from Riley. People in this school are complete fucktard twatwaffles,” she whispered, glaring around the room.
I couldn’t agree more with whatever it was that she had called them. I placed the note in my book and discreetly read it.
I might not make it another week without murdering someone.
I texted her my reply, ME NEITHER.
The worst day had to have been Thursday. I was sitting in fifth period, not able to concentrate on a damn thing the teacher was mumbling on and on about. I knew Riley was dealing with shit from t
he drama at school, even though she wouldn’t open up to me about it. I didn’t blame her. I was being quiet—unintentionally pulling away again. I didn’t know why I did it, but when my head gets fucked up, I retreat into this shell to sort it out on my own. I hated it, because I needed her—I just didn’t know how to open up to her about my own issues without hurting her. Not just that, but she genuinely seemed to be freaked out about something. She had been doing a few things that bothered me. One, she was always looking around and over her shoulder. She would shiver, and her frown line would deepen like she was thinking deeply about something. And the second, she would stare at me a little deeper, like she was trying to climb inside of my mind and read it. It was unnerving, but then again I wasn’t giving her much to go on.
I wasn’t in the mood for school or lectures, but the teacher called on me to answer him. “Mr. Parker, I asked you a question. In chapter twenty-four what was the purpose behind—,”
I stood up and grabbed my backpack, ignoring the gasp from my classmates, or the glare from Mr. What’s-his-face. “I don’t know the answer. I don’t know the purpose behind anything. I didn’t read the damn chapter, and I’m out.” I stormed out the classroom with him yelling after me.
I was clearing out the rest of my locker, and restraining myself from punching a dent into the metal, when a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard screeched in my ear.
“Josh, are you okay? I mean like that was some scene back there. It was kind of hot,” Preslee said. I rolled my eyes. What is up with this chick? Can she not get the hint? I wondered for n ’ th time.
“Look, Preslee, I’m not in the mood for any bullshit right now, so just go back to class,” I told her.
She grinned at me and ignored my request. She moved to stand directly in front of me and placed her hand on my arm. I looked down at her hand on me with disgust. When I looked back at her, she tilted her head to the side. “No, bullshit, okay. I know ways to make you feel better. It will feel good. I promise.” She said in that sugary voice that she liked to use, thinking she was flirting. I knew exactly what she was implying—it wasn’t the first time she’d offered to suck me off. As always, I turned her down. If I were any other teenage horny guy, I would have probably taken her up on her offer. Most guys would look at her pouty pink lips and would love them wrapped around their dick. I wasn’t like most guys, though. Her pouty pink lips and everything that came out of them pissed me the fuck off.
I tore each and every finger off of my arm and dropped her hand. “No, thanks.” I turned away from her, finding Riley standing in the hall—watching.
If looks could kill, she would have stoned Preslee to death. I stood motionless just looking at her until her eyes met mine. She held up her phone, “Em texted me. I came to check on you.”
She stated it as though that explained why she was out of class—every word dead of emotion. I forgot Emily had been in my class. I should have known that she would alert the troops of my blow up. I moved closer to her, and her eyes darted back and forth between Preslee’s and mine. I didn’t know how much she saw or heard, or what she was thinking right then, but I knew that I didn’t like it—the unasked question in her eyes—the little visible sliver of doubt always lingering beneath the surface. I reached for her cheek, and she flinched just slightly.
However, then she turned her cheek into my touch, and squeezed her eyes shut. “I hate her, Josh,” she breathed. I wrapped my hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her to my chest. I kissed her forehead and inhaled the coconut smell of her hair.
“Me too. I hate her, too,” I muttered. When we pulled apart, Preslee was already gone.
Riley looked up at me. “Are you okay?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I’m just in a bad mood. I’m good now, but I’m going home for the day. I’m not feeling this right now.” She nodded. It wasn’t long before the bell rang, and she went one way, and I went another. The irony of that wasn’t lost on me.
I didn’t know where I was going, and I also knew the school would call my dad soon. I just didn’t care right then. I needed to clear my head, so I left the campus. I drove around aimlessly not really sure where I should go, or if I should go back. Somehow, I ended up in the spot where most confessions and realizations have been made for me. I ended up at our spot by the lake.
I sat there at the dock imagining Riley sitting in the same very spot alone, crying and hating me for leaving her. I sat there imagining Dean coming in to dry her tears and to fill her head with doubts and more confusion like he always did when a window of opportunity came. I just imagined all sorts of scenarios, and each made me crazy mad.
I didn’t know how long I sat there. It could have been a few minutes, a few hours—an entire day. I wasn’t sure. I knew it was long enough for her to realize I wasn’t at home and to come looking for me.
“Josh?” Riley’s voice. Jesus. Just her voice alone made me want to cry.
I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t look at her. I just couldn’t, so I stayed right where I was—facing the water, and imagining my life without her—and hating it.
She knew me well enough to know I was upset, and to know that when I was that upset—I remained quiet. She sat next to me and stared out at the water, probably imagining our future together and embracing it, while my image of us was falling away.
I could feel her look at me, but she didn’t pry. She just put her hand on top of mine and interlaced our fingers. We sat like that in quiet silence because she apparently knew it’s what I needed. She was what I needed. I fell in love with her even more that day—just for being everything I needed and for being her—my love, my life—everything. With her head on my shoulder and without a word being said—she had me.
I offered to give her a ride home, and she agreed. The entire drive was quiet—not a peep—just breathing. She would never forgive me for doing this. We wouldn’t survive it. I drove the block, and a million different thoughts sped through my brain at lightning speed.
When we got to her house, I thanked her. She gave me an odd look, but I truly was thankful. And then I told her, “I love you, never forget that.”
Her face contorted into various phases of emotion: confusion, high alert, sadness and then panic. She didn’t say anything. Then again, I turned away and left her standing in shock in the yard—not really giving her an opportunity.
CHAPTER 9
I’m lifted higher and higher—seeing the world in beautiful colors, until I’m falling and scared as shit. The first weekend as Josh’s girlfriend is like a roller coaster ride. One second, my head is stuck on my worries about rumors, and then I’m thrown for another loop, my head becoming consumed on the potential loss of everything I want—again. Not just that, but I get a creepy feeling someone is always watching my every move.
Some words are like torture to my ears—and I hope are lies. I’m lying in my bed replaying what Preslee had said to me, ‘Josh likes it in my mouth.’ I may be virginal, but I know what she meant. It’s been on my mind for a week. Imagining her on her knees for him is torture. She has to be screwing with my head, because he told me he never touched her, and even if technically she was the one doing the touching, it’s still a sexual act. I just keep remembering the time at Collin’s party, though, when they went in the bathroom together, and he joked with me about her doing him a favor. He’d seen my reaction and told me he was kidding and that they just made out. Surely, he wouldn’t have lied about that just to spare my feelings. She’s just always there—making me uncomfortable about them.
Everything in my mind is one big cluster fuck, because not only am I stuck on her implications, but also, I’m worried about Josh. He kind of has me freaked out this week. He’s been extremely quiet but then he kisses me, and it’s a different kind of kiss—a desperate kind of kiss. Yesterday, he flipped out at school, and when I found him at the lake he couldn’t even look me in the eye. He didn’t talk the entire ride back to his house, which wasn’t that long of a ride.
It wouldn’t have bothered me as much except that he’d gotten out of his truck, and then he’d hugged me tightly and told me ‘thank you.’ Thank you? He’d looked directly into my eyes and told me he loved me and to never forget it. After that, he went inside and left me in his driveway wondering what the hell had happened and why he’d said ‘loved’ like it was in the past tense.
I have suspicions about what’s going on with him, but I’m not 100% positive on any of it anymore. I’m pretty sure nothing is thrown under the rug. Something is definitely bothering him, and he won’t open up to me about it. It’s a bit of unwanted déjà vu, because the last time he got this quiet and shut down on me this way, was three years ago when our lives had been changed forever. I can only think he just isn’t ready, but the fact that he isn’t telling me puts my nerves on high alert.
It’s the last day of senior year—big friggen’ deal. It’s done, kaput, O.V.E.R.—over. I should feel bliss, but I only feel on edge. I barely even saw him today to question any of it. At lunch, I had to make up things I’d missed last week just to complete my grade. It’s been one hell of a week, to say the least, one I barely survived, but it’s over. My nerves are shot. I’m ready to explode. Then there is the thing that Josh and I have yet to discuss—the elephant always in the room—his scholarship, among the other things that seem to be weighing heavily on him, which could very well be one and the same.
Today is the first day I turned my phone on in a few days. I’d been getting random texts with dirty messages from unknown numbers, some also known—all guys. I had to delete my Facebook page just so I wouldn’t see the mentions of us in the newsfeeds. It’s so ridiculous. I’m tired of hearing people talk shit about me—about us. Their words make Josh and me sound ugly and debasing. We are beautiful—like a sweet symphony of music.
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