A Cross to Bear

by Julieanne Lynch

  “No one asked you to be the hero, Logan.”

  “You know what, screw you.”

  I turned my back on him and went straight to my room, taking a bottle of beer from my small refrigerator and drinking on my own. It wasn’t something I normally did, but right then, I was furious. Drake refused to allow me to be the friend I wanted to be to him. It was stupid and irrational, though I didn’t think my drinking would hurt those I loved.

  By morning, I was hungover and had totally forgotten about meeting Bree. With a heavy head, I made it to the bathroom before throwing up the contents of my stomach. After a quick shower and a bottle of water, I met Spence on the stairs.

  He looked as if he’d just arrived. From the looks of the love bites on his neck, he’d had a night of action.

  “Where are you off to?” he asked, grinning like the cat that got the cream.

  “I think I may be in the dog house.” I ran a hand through my hair.

  “Whoa, rough night?”

  “Yeah. Can you talk to Drake, because for some reason, he’s hating on me right now?” I replied, and yawned.

  “He’s not in a good place at the moment. Just give him some time,” Spence said. “But I’ll have a chat with him once I have a power nap.”

  “Sure, whatever helps with getting our friend back,” I said, and went down the stairs.

  The house was pretty quiet and clean, but it was the first weekend in nearly two weeks that we were all back. It wouldn’t be long before it resumed its usual business. Not focusing on the house or my future meets and deadline, I headed straight over to Bree’s, knowing the welcome committee wouldn’t be out in full force.

  Knocking on her door, I bit down on my bottom lip and waited for her to answer.

  After my second attempt, she opened her door and looked at me.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I ended up drinking and crashing. I fucked up.”

  “I know,” she replied, and folded her arms across her chest.

  “What? How?”

  “I called over and tried to talk to you, but you were being an asshole, so I left you to wallow in whatever that was,” she said.

  Disappointment filled her eyes.

  I scratched my head and tried to remember last night, but I had no memory of ever seeing her.

  “I can’t remember,” I mumbled. “Jesus, I hope I didn’t do or say anything stupid. Did I?”

  “You were mumbling something about Drake, then you vomited,” she said. “Then you mentioned something about a meet and how you would nail Ethan if he dared fuck with you. After that, I left. I couldn’t stand seeing you behaving like an entitled prick.”

  Feeling like a jerk, I couldn’t even look at her. I had never gotten myself so drunk that I had memory loss. I’d seen enough people in my time become monsters and lose themselves on their nights out. I always promised myself I wouldn’t become another carbon copy of my peers. Yet there I was, ashamed of what I’ve become.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It’s not fair, Logan. Not to me or the people who care about you,” she said, touching my arm.

  “I think I got wound up with Drake. He keeps shutting me out, and I really want to help him.” My voice broke. “His being in that house is killing him and I regret ever introducing him to that world.”

  The emotion coursed through me like a volcano ready to erupt. The magma of pain and anguish slowly made its way up to the surface, causing more damage and hurt on the way out. I ached, knowing I’d been a complete asshole, and I regretted ever drinking.

  “You can’t let them make you one of them, not like this, Logan. You have so much more to lose than being just a regular frat guy. People are watching, ready to judge you. Are you willing to put your entire family and future in jeopardy because you can’t handle rejection from your best friend?” Her words were cold, but to the point. “I love you so much, but I won’t sit back and allow you to become a shadow of the guy I fell in love with. Don’t lose sight of that just because you’re in that house. Believe me, I know how easy it is to fall from grace, and it isn’t pretty.”

  I rubbed my eyes, not wanting to break down in front of her. I wasn’t comfortable enough to let her see how vulnerable I was. It was bad enough she’d seen the ugly side of me when I had booze in my system.

  “I’m sorry. So, so sorry, Bree. Can you forgive me?”

  She reached out to curl her hand around my face, running her thumb across my cheek. “Of course I can,” she whispered. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” I pulled her into my arms, wrapping them around her tight, afraid to let go. “Mind if I sit down?” The effects of the hangover made my head pound.

  “Absolutely, and if I’m right, based on how you look and smell, I’d say you’re in the throes of the horrors,” she said, chuckling.

  “Oh my God, my head won’t stop spinning!” I sighed, lying back on the bed and closing my eyes. “Maybe forty winks will cure all my woes.”

  “Yup,” Bree replied.

  She lay down beside me, taking my hand in hers and holding it to her chin.

  I drifted off to sleep with the sweet scent of her perfume and the warmth of her touch to keep me company. I’d never been more grateful for the woman I loved.

  * * * *

  The adrenaline pumped as the crowd cheered. I looked up at the stands, my heart thumping hard. The echoes of the clapping thundered through my skull.

  We were off to a strong start on day one of the NCAA Championships in Iowa City. In the finals of the two-hundred-freestyle relay, we earned twelfth place with a time of one minute, fifteen seconds. We collected nine points toward the team effort. Ohio State’s quartet was comprised of Tommy, Ethan and Drake. The group qualified for the ‘B’ final with the ninth fastest time among the field in prelims. Ohio State posted a preliminary time of one-minute-eleven, which was a season-best.

  The team was also impressive in the four-hundred-medley relay, backed by performances from Richard, Russell, Drake and Tommy. We placed eleventh overall in the event, recording a time of three-minutes-five seconds. All in all, we were in good form and raring to prove how excellent we were.

  It wasn’t until the last day of the championships that I found myself slipping. I was tired, irritated and the pressure finally got to me.

  “You need to snap out of whatever this is,” Tommy said when he found me vomiting.

  “Just leave it, I’ll be fine. It’s just something I ate,” I lied.

  “Get your shit together. The whole team is counting on you.” He was pissed and I was close to breaking.

  I stood in the cubicle, trying to compose myself. The adrenaline coursing through me during the first two days had long passed. Now, I was there, feeling every inch a fraud. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t.

  “What’s going on?” Drake asked, the first few words he’d spoken to me in over forty-eight hours.

  “I’m just a little…under the weather,” I replied.

  “You sure? You can’t let us down, not when we’re doing so well.”

  “Yup, duly noted. Screw how I feel as long as the team is winning.” I stormed past him and out into the waiting noise and chaos.

  I took first place in the two-hundred freestyle with a season-best time of one-minute-thirty-two seconds, and was crowned the conference champion. I tried to downplay the achievement with smiles and false gestures. The first thing I did once I was back in the locker room was vomit.

  Drake said nothing once he showered and got dressed. He avoided looking at me. I wanted to hit him hard. Tell him to wake the fuck up.

  “Listen, bro, if you got a problem with me, spit it out. I’m man enough to take it,” I said, the blood boiling beneath my skin.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Tommy piped in. “Logan, get the fuck out of here. Go calm down.”

  I couldn’t help it. Instead of reveling in my success and the team’s victory, I was more riled up than eve
r before.

  The celebration soon commenced. I was the first one to down shots of tequila, consuming enough alcohol to secure me a nice hangover the following morning. Right then and there, I didn’t give a shit. I wanted to unwind, to lose myself in booze and let the numbness consume me.

  The girls were certainly interested in champions, fraternity champions being the flavor of the night. It was hard to ignore the attention. Tits rubbed up against my back, hands touching me. The more I drank, the more obnoxious I became, until finally I blew a fuse.

  “Get your skanky hands off me,” I said, standing and pushing away the girl.

  “What’s your problem?” she shouted angrily.

  “If I wanted an easy lay, I’d choose something worth banging.”

  “Fuck you, asshole. Fuck you!” She threw her beer in my face.

  Just as I was finishing my last shot, something hit the back of my skull, the ringing in my ears deafening.

  “The fuck?” I mumbled. Confused, I held my head, stumbling around to see a group of guys glaring at me.

  “You disrespect one of our girls, you disrespect your hosts,” a guy with a serious case of bad attitude shouted.

  “Get the fuck out of my personal space,” I warned.

  I was soon deprived of the joy of having my first drunken brawl. My two little bodyguards appeared, making their presence known.

  “Sir, you need to vacate the premises now,” I was told by the shortest of the two, who I’d come to know as Peter.

  “And there I was getting all worked up,” I stated.

  “Yeah, that’s right, run along home to daddy.”

  I was escorted out, taunts following in my wake.

  “You can be a real piece of work when you want to be.”

  I walked away from the house and down the path to the awaiting car.

  “Learned from the best,” I answered, hopping into the back of the car. “I guess my daddio will hear of this. Isn’t that right, Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”

  “Sir, it’s best you get some sleep. It will be a long drive back to Columbus,” Peter said, completely ignoring my remark.

  “What? No private jet?” I laughed.

  My question was met with more silence. Before long, I was out cold.

  * * * *

  I awoke in my own bed. The familiar thumps of the hangover reared its ugly head. I retched and failed to make it to the bathroom before my stomach gave in, throwing up the undigested food from the night before. Tacos and tequila didn’t make for a good vomiting experience.

  I crawled to my chest. I opened the drawer, took out my bottle of Tylenol and popped two into my mouth. As far as I was concerned, it was a risk worth taking.

  * * * *

  I was fresh out of the shower and had just returned to my room when my phone rang.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “Logan,” my father said.

  “I was expecting this call.”

  “Do you want to explain what’s going on?” he asked.

  I paced the floor of my room and closed my eyes, cringing as the drunken flashbacks from the night before made their appearance. “There’s nothing to say. I got drunk and acted like an ass. I’m no different than any other guy going to school.”

  “But you’re different, Logan,” he said. “You have the added pressure of having a detail follow and report your every move.”

  “Dad, you aren’t even close to what’s going on.” I gulped. “I’m just feeling a little…”

  “Lost?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just so angry.”

  “Then, talk to me, son. I can help if you let me.” He sounded almost as upset as me.

  “Listen, Dad, I’ve got to go. I’ve some stuff I need to get sorted before classes tomorrow,” I lied.

  “Okay, Logan, but this isn’t over. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  Before he had the chance to end the call with some inspiring quote or words of wisdom, I hung up. I rested my head against the wall and closed my eyes. I wished I could turn back time just to have a chance of doing things differently.

  Some things weren’t meant to be easy.

  * * * *

  I was given the cold shoulder after turning up to my Monday morning training practice thirty minutes late. I didn’t care how many times Tommy knocked at my door, or the Coach called, I found it impossible to lift my head from my pillow.

  A light had gone out inside my head. I tried to focus but something had snapped. This wasn’t the man I had been raised to be. I had become the very person I hated and had refused to become for so long.

  I stepped under the hot water after my first disastrous training session in history, wanting to run back home to my mother and forget about my dreams. Anything would have made me feel a hundred times better than I did.

  “Way to go, Logan,” Ethan remarked. “One queer, and one loser. How many more of you will fall, leaving the path clear for the real men of this world?” he asked, his voice echoing throughout the locker room.

  “I don’t know, but I guess we shall see,” I snapped, and pushed past him.

  “It’s funny how things work out.”

  “And what does that mean?” I turned and looked at him straight in the eye.

  “Well, you being the bastard son of our president, yet you’re still a sad little prick with small-town dreams.”

  There was nothing I wanted to do more than to smack the smug grin off his face. For some reason, I composed myself. I calmed down and glared at him before turning my back on him once more.

  “That’s right, Belanger, keep on walking. I’m sure your daddy didn’t think twice when he walked away.”

  Ethan’s voice became nothing but a blip on the radar as I got dressed and left the pavilion. The world around me was no longer a great place to be. I had once been a cynic, skeptical about the whole college journey. Right then and there, I hated my existence all the more.

  Chapter Thirty

  Bree noticed the change in Logan. She tried to engage with him but he was so withdrawn and jaded that nothing made sense to her.

  She refused to allow him to wallow in his self-pity, and booked a table at the little restaurant they’d had their first date at. Bree wasn’t in the mood to take no for an answer. There wasn’t much else she could think of. She had to get him out of the funk he was in and fast.

  “Do we really have to?” he asked, rubbing a hand down over his face.

  “Yes,” Bree insisted, and applied one last coat of gloss.

  Logan sighed and got up. He picked up his wallet and phone. “Then, I guess the least I get out of this is a blow job, right?”

  “Oh, baby, you’ll get way more than that if you smile,” she said, and grinned.

  Bree knew she was clutching at straws. She missed the guy she’d fallen in love with. The confident and caring guy who never gave a shit about anyone but her.

  “Then let’s go eat,” he said, holding his hand out to Bree, who gladly took it.

  * * * *

  As they were seated, Bree couldn’t stop smiling. This was the first night they’d gone out in weeks, and she didn’t want the moment to pass her by.

  “Do you remember when you first brought me here?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Logan replied, smiling. “I freaked out about the whole date, and couldn’t wait to finally kiss you.”

  Bree couldn’t stop smiling as she listened to him talk. It was like having the old Logan back and she couldn’t have been more grateful.

  “When I first met you, I knew there was something special,” she said. “You had this aura that shone so bright.”

  “You spend way too much time with Jet.”

  Bree giggled and took a drink of her soda. “Nah, I know I sound like a wacko, but it’s true. You’re so different to every other guy here. I wish you could see it.”

  “Maybe not so different, after all.” He remarked.

  “Don’t do it, Logan. Please, not tonight.” The butterflies of uneas
e swarmed in her stomach.

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” he muttered, sadness filling the depths of his eyes.

  “I get it. I really do,” she said, reaching across the table to take his hands in hers. “Drake will come back, that much I know. He’s just a little lost. With everything that’s happened in the past few months, things have taken a toll on him. He needs to find himself again and get back that zest for life he once had.”

  Logan closed his eyes momentarily. “I don’t get why I’m on the receiving end of his anger and resentment. That hurts me more than anything.”

  “It’s because you were the closest thing to him when you were pledging. You witnessed him being used in a way he didn’t want. No matter how much he tries to pretend it didn’t happen, the shame of it all is still new and raw.”

  “But we told him things would get better. Surely, we should be the first people he’ll come to when he needs us, right?”

  Logan looked at Bree with desperate eyes.

  “Baby, I know it’s hard, especially when friendships are tested. You’ve got to give him time. Be there when he comes out the other side,” Bree replied.

  The waiter appeared, ready to take their order.

  Logan reached across the table and stroked the back of her hand. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

  A little over twenty minutes later their food was served and Bree shifted in her seat as she began to eat. She smiled and chewed, catching Logan staring at her often. “What?” she asked, her face alight with pleasure.

  “You,” he replied. “You never cease to amaze me. You know that? I’ve been such a shitty boyfriend this past month, and not once have you given up on me.”

  “It’s called love, Logan. I love you with every inch of my soul.”

  Well aware of how much she meant to him, Bree wanted to reiterate her own emotions. Somehow, he’d lost sight of his value and worth.

  After they finished their meal, Logan asked for the check and paid the bill.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “I don’t mind paying, or at least splitting the bill.”