by Lynne Jaymes
One Last Night
by
Lynne Jaymes
A prequel novella to One True Thing
One True Thing
Lynne Jaymes
Copyright © 2014 by Lynne Jaymes
Smashwords Edition
www.lynnejaymes.com
Cover Design by © Helen Williams, AllBookedOut.com
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Ty’s Last Night
“Surprise!”
The entire back room at Oceana erupts as soon as we turn the corner.
Shit is all I can think, once my heart stops pounding. It looks like everyone I’ve ever met is here and I know that not only did Hailey plan this whole thing, but I’d bet anything on the fact that her parents are putting up the money for it. So not what I planned for tonight. But I don’t have a choice—Hailey is standing next to me practically vibrating with happiness as she holds my hand. I have to plaster a smile on my face and somehow get through the next several hours.“Are you surprised, Ty?” Hailey asks, her dark eyes shining.
“Completely,” I say, and give her a kiss. I’m sure it was a lot of work to put this whole thing together, and I can’t be an asshole just because I’d hoped for a quiet dinner on my last night in town, just the two of us.
She waves at a couple of the guests. “Well I couldn’t have you take off for the middle of nowhere without a huge send off.”
I take in the red and white balloons, the tasteful, color-coordinated flower arrangements on every table, the giant Garvin State banner hanging on the back wall and the pile of gifts set up on a table by the door. Not to mention the entire room reserved at one of the nicest restaurants in all of San Francisco. Most people in this city can’t get a table at Oceana. Leave it to Hailey to take over the whole place.
“It’s great,” I say. “You really outdid yourself.”
“Come on in,” she says, pulling me further into the room. A waiter walks by carrying a tray of champagne flutes so Hailey grabs two and hands one to me. I’m about to say something to her, but quickly change my mind because anything I say is guaranteed to start another ugly fight, something we’re almost famous for these days. After the last time, Hailey promised she’d take it easy. I have to trust her—at least that’s what she keeps telling me.She clinks her glass with mine, her eyes shining with anticipation like they always do at the beginning of a party and then drains half the glass. As the cold bubbles hit my nose like an explosion of pinpricks, I remember why I actually hate champagne. I look around for a waiter, wondering if I can grab a beer anytime soon.
Even though we’ve just arrived, the party’s already in full swing. High school friends mix with some of the guys from my junior college baseball team, along with a bunch of Hailey’s girlfriends who are probably just happy to be at a party with so many single guys for a change. There’s a group in a corner booth I don’t recognize right away—a little older, in their late-twenties I’d guess. And then I recognize the guy in the middle with the short black hair and neatly trimmed goatee.
“That’s not Carlos Mendez is it?”It feels ridiculous saying it. Why would the new star closer for the SF Giants be sitting at my going-away party?
“Yep.” Hailey snuggles against my shoulder and looks at the booth. “He’s friends with my boss at work so I pulled a few strings. I thought you could get some pointers. You know, for getting into the majors.”
“You got Carlos Hill to come here?” I stare at her in amazement.
“Of course I did.” She gets up on her toes and kisses me, her lips tasting of gloss and champagne. “Nothing but the best. I love you.”
“I love you too.” These days I say it out of habit, but despite everything, I still mean it. We’ve been together for three years—how could I not? With her smooth amber skin and dark curly hair that falls in waves down her back, she’s one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever met. I still remember the first time I laid eyes on her at that party senior year—she had a body that looked like it belonged on the cover of a swimsuit issue but she was drinking beer and shooting pool like one of the guys. I think I fell in love with her the moment she sunk the eight ball, beating some poor sucker out of his gas money for the rest of the month and then collecting on the debt without an ounce of regret.
“Tyler!” Jason comes up and gives me a quick hug and pat on the back. “I still can’t fucking believe you’re leaving.”
“I can’t believe you kept this a secret,” I say. I just saw him at our apartment an hour ago.
He smiles at Hailey. “When your girlfriend orders you to keep a secret, you keep a secret.”
“You bet your ass you do,” Hailey says, winking at him. She squeezes my hand and then lets go. “I’m going to make sure everything’s good with the food, okay?”
“Okay.” I say. I watch her walk by another waiter, depositing her empty glass on the tray and replacing it with a full one in a quick motion. My heart sinks a little but I have to believe Hailey’s going to be cool this time. She promised.
“You are one lucky fuck,” Jason says, watching her walk away.
“I know,” I say, admiring the way the short black dress seems to float along her curves. And I do know. How many times have I watched Hailey work a room, making people laugh with her quick wit and having every guy wishing he was the one she was going home with at the end of the night? And for the past nine hundred and something nights, that’s been me.
“What are you going to do about Hailey while you’re gone?”
I take another sip of the champagne and then put it down on the table next to me. “What do you mean?”
“Come on,” John says, shaking his head. “With you a couple of thousand miles away most of the year, you know every guy in town is going to take a run at that.”
“We have an understanding,” I say, hopefully with more confidence than I feel, because we haven’t exactly talked about it like it’s a real thing. We were both happy when I got this scholarship to play ball in Texas—it’s all I’ve been working for since the day I set foot on a baseball field back in second grade—but the actual, concrete fact that I’m getting on a plane in less than twenty four hours hasn’t really sunk it with either of us.
“Well, I’m understanding that a girl as hot as Hailey isn’t exactly going to be sitting around at home every night waiting for your sorry ass to call,” Jason says.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I don’t love the direction this conversation is heading. I see a waiter hand a tall glass to one of the guys at Carlos’ table. “I’m going to go see if I can find a beer.”
I push through the crowded room, shaking hands with people I know and accepting congratulations from people I don’t.
“Can I get a beer?” I ask the waiter with th
e empty tray.
“Sure thing,” he says. “Any particular draft?”
“You choose,” I say, thinking that a cold beer in my hand is going to make this night a lot easier
“I’ll be right back,” he says and disappears into the hallway.
“Tyler, right?”
I turn and see Carlos leaning up against the corner of the booth.
“You’re the one all this is for?”
“That’s right,” I say, trying to think of something to say that won’t make me sound like a dumbass.
“Congratulations on the scholarship,” he says with a friendly smile. “Garvin State is a badass baseball school—we used to play them when I was with Indiana. You’ll do well there.”
“Thanks.” There’s an awkward silence. “That was a great game against the Yankees last week.” As soon as I say it I feel like some idiot superfan, but he actually breaks into a smile.
“I got lucky,” he says. “It almost got away from me in the top of the ninth.”
“No way,” I say. “You had it locked up. The minute you had Teixeira fanning at your curveball there was no way you weren’t going to win.”
The waiter brings my beer and sets it on the table.
Carlos indicates the empty booth next to him. “Grab a seat,” he says.
I look around but I don’t see Hailey anywhere. Besides, what idiot passes up an opportunity to sit next to Carlos Mendez?
“What position do you play?” he asks.
“Center field,” I say. I hesitate, not entirely sure where the line is between telling and bragging. “And usually lead-off hitter.”
“Nice,” Carlos says, sipping his beer. “Coach Castro’s always on the lookout for a power hitter at Garvin. No wonder he picked you up.”
“I’m just glad to get a shot,” I say.
Carlos looks around the room. “I grew up in Texas,” he says. “Not all that far from Garvin.” He looks back at me, his face suddenly serious. “Texas is no San Francisco.”
I wait for more. “I know.”
“It’s different there,” he finally continues. “Just watch your ass, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree, not totally understanding what he’s talking about. A couple of his friends come back and stand next to the table and I get the hint. “I’d better go and mingle a little bit.”
He tips his beer to me. “Look me up when you get back in town and I’ll get you a couple of good seats.”
“Thanks. That would be great.”
“But if I ever meet you on the mound, I won’t take it easy.”
I smile, thinking about the prospect and how it would feel to face Carlos at the plate. “I wouldn’t expect you to.” I slip out of the booth and wander toward the table towering with food. I spend the next hour eating and talking to my friends, realizing how much I’m going to miss everyone. As exciting as it’s going to be to play baseball at a big school, it’s going to be weird living someplace else.
“There you are!” Hailey throws one arm around my neck, one hand clutching a full champagne flute. By the slur in her words I’m guessing it’s not the same one that I saw her with earlier. “I missed you.” She pulls me down toward her and kisses me deeply, her tongue darting against my teeth, ignoring the guys from my team as they stand around staring.
“I missed you too,” I say, trying to untangle myself from her grip. My heart sinks as I try to gauge just how drunk she is. I really don’t want to deal with this again.
“No, I mean I really missed you,” she says, pressing her hips against me and licking her lips.
Damn. She knows what that does to me. I twist away from her just a little bit. I need to get her sobered up before everything goes to hell. “Hey, have you eaten anything? The crab cakes they were passing around earlier were amazing.”
Hailey shakes her head, her long hair falling into her eyes. “I don’t need anything to eat.” She drains the rest of the champagne in the glass and waves it at me. “What I need is another drink.” She grabs me by the hand and pulls me into the crowd, noticeably unsteady in her heels. “Let’s find a waiter.”
Thankfully, all the waiters have vanished for the moment.
“Why don’t you sit here,” I say, steering her into an empty chair. “And I’ll find you something.” She’s going to be pissed when I come back with coffee, but I have to give it a shot.
Hailey looks around the room, frustration etched on her face. Her hand darts toward a half-full champagne glass that’s been left on the table. “No need,” she says, grabbing it and downing the contents.
“Seriously?”
“It’s fine,” she says, slamming the empty glass down on the table. “The alcohol sterilizes any of the germs. Plus, that shit’s expensive—can’t have it go to waste.” A dark look crosses her face. “I have to pee. Come with me.”
I know where this is going. There have been other bathrooms in other parties and just the thought of Hailey in an empty stall makes me twitch. But as much as I’d like to follow my dick on this one, she promised me that she wouldn’t get trashed anymore and I have to stick to that. “You go ahead,” I say. “I’ll be out here.”
Her eyes flash and I can see she’s beyond reason at this point. “I said come with me.”
“Fine,” I say, knowing that if I don’t, it could get ugly quick.
She smiles like she does when she gets her way. Which I have to admit is pretty much all of the time. Saying no to Hailey never goes over well. Saying no to a drunk Hailey is guaranteed to cause a scene.
Taking my hand again, she maneuvers us deftly through the knots of people and down a side hallway toward the bathrooms. Pushing the ladies’ room door open, she looks around and then pulls me inside the small room, locking the door behind us.
“I just want to be alone with you for a minute,” she says, the familiar whiney edge creeping into her voice. She stands up on tiptoe and buries her face in my neck. “I can’t believe you’re really leaving me.”
I can feel my resolve weakening. As much as I want this shot at Garvin State, it doesn’t erase the guilt I feel for leaving her behind. I look at the two of us in the mirror—her image rich and dark, mine blonde and light. We always seemed to complement each other, but now I’m starting to wonder if we really go together. “Not forever,” I say, pulling her to me. “I’ll be home at Thanksgiving.”
“Thanksgiving!” Hailey pulls away to look at me, tears shining in the corners of her eyes. “That’s three whole months away. What if you meet somebody else? What if there’s some little Texas hottie with her cowboy boots and Daisy Dukes shaking her ass in your face?”
I can feel her ramping up. “That’s not going to happen,” I say, in the calmest voice I can muster.
Hailey tries to smile, but I see the drunk desperation in her eyes. She bites her bottom lip and presses her hand against my crotch, cupping me through the fabric of my jeans. “But your little Texas hottie won’t know what you like, will she?” Her fingers creep up and fumble with my belt buckle. “I’m the only one who knows what you like.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to get rid of the image that’s forming in my head. It’s tempting to give in, to let her fingers undo my zipper, to let her warm breath surround me. But I can’t. Not this time. I quickly grab her hand before I can change my mind. “Come on Hailey. Let’s go back out there.”
“No!” she says, twisting her arm out of my grip, her full lips in a pout. She leans into me, pressing her chest against mine. “What’s the matter? You don’t want me anymore?”
I grab her shoulders and look into her face. “Of course I do. You know that.” I take a deep breath, knowing I’m entering dangerous territory. “But you’ve been drinking a little bit. And a blowjob in a public bathroom isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend our last night together.”
“Our last night?” she says, her voice rising. “Why would you say that?”
Shit. “Not our last night forever,” I say quickly. “Just our last
night for now.”
“I know what you meant,” she says, shoving me away from her with both hands. I see the tears start to form rivers down her cheeks. “You’re moving on. I knew it.”She tries to jerk the door open, but it’s locked tight, only fueling the rage that’s building up inside her. “Fuck!” she screams, pulling at the door with both hands.
“Hailey, wait!” I say, reaching for her.
“Get your hands off me,” she says, calming down enough to flip the lock on the door and fling it open.
I manage to grab her arm just as she reaches the hallway where several people are lined up waiting to use the bathroom. I hope the presence of an audience will calm her down, at least outwardly so that I can talk some sense into her. “Stop,” I say, pulling her back.
“Get your fucking hands off me!” she shouts again as people flatten themselves against the walls in the face of her rage.
I let her go and hold both hands up. “Come on, let’s go somewhere and talk about this.”
“Talk about what?” She whirls on me. “How you don’t even want to fuck me anymore?”
I see several girls give each other looks. Hailey’s already gone and there’s nothing that’s going to fix this except time. Time to sober up and then call me in tears, asking to be forgiven for all of the shitty stuff she says to me when she’s drunk. Not the first time I’ve been down this road and at this point, the drama is just making me tired. “I’m not going to deal with this right now,” I say, pushing past her.
“Tyler!” she yells after me. “Where the fuck are you going?”
But I don’t answer, I don’t engage. Tomorrow I’m going to get on an airplane and head for a new life—one that I always thought would have Hailey in it, but now I’m not so sure. I hear her screaming and cursing behind me, but I don’t even look back—I just keep walking away.
Jenna’s Last Night
Even before the last notes fade into the studio walls, I sprawl on the wooden floor and untie the ribbon that winds around my calf, peeling the toe shoes from each foot and carefully placing them in my dance bag.
“Good work today Jenna,” Madame says as she walks by, her steps steady and precise as always.