Travis

by Rebecca Elise

  “It has been really great,” I agree. “But you make it sound like we won’t have that again.”

  “I was hoping maybe that would guilt you into staying.”

  “Travis!”

  He laughs, but the sound seems strange. Almost like it was forced, like he really was hoping he could try to get me to stay, but not because of sex. I climb off of his lap, glancing back at him with a sigh. I’m probably looking into this too much. Travis isn’t the kind of guy that would try to get me to blow off work to stay with him. He needs his time just as much as anyone else. Plus, even if he doesn’t come out and say it, it’s been a couple of days since he was in his studio. It’s his haven and I know he is looking forward to getting back down there.

  “The rest of my stuff is in the living room,” I say.

  Travis nods as he stands up, grabbing his shirt from the floor and pulling it over his head. He follows me out of the room silently. It’s funny, when I first met Travis, I never thought I would see the day where he would be sad at the thought of not being around me.

  “I’m, uh, I’m kind of going to miss you,” Travis mumbles as we reach my car.

  I turn around to look at him. He’s looking down at the ground, kicking the dingy tip of his black Converses in the dirt.

  “I’m kind of going to miss you too,” I tell him.

  Travis reaches up, pushing me back against my car, pinning my body into place with his. His hands dive into my loose blonde waves as his lips crash hard against mine. He kisses me with a frantic passion, his mouth rubbing hard over mine. A groan erupts in his throat as his erection presses into me.

  “All right, go to work before I drag you back inside,” he says, his voice sounds so deep and husky right now.

  He kisses me once more before letting me go and turning to walk to his car. He pauses halfway there, turning around. “Hey Gracie?”

  “Yeah?” I ask, hovering halfway inside of my car.

  He opens his mouth to say something but pauses. “Have a good day.”

  My forehead wrinkles. Is that really what he stopped to tell me? For a moment I thought maybe…never mind it doesn’t matter what I thought. Even if he was, he obviously changed his mind. “You too, see you later.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Travis

  For a moment, for one brief moment as I was leaving Gracie, I nearly told her that I lo - Christ I can’t even bring myself to think the word. Why is it so hard? I do love her. It should be easy to tell her that, right? So why didn’t I do it then? I regret it now. I should have just told her, but it’s too late. I can’t call her and tell her on the phone, and I’m certainly not telling her when I get to the diner.

  Hey, Gracie, could I have a swiss mushroom burger, some cole slaw and a Coke? Oh, and by the way, I love you.

  Is it even love? I am pretty sure it is, but really, I have no idea. I mean, I want to be with her all of the time, I think about her all the time, I can’t imagine myself wanting to be with anyone else but her, but is that love? It sounds like infatuation to me. We’ve been together for a couple of months now, long enough that it would only be natural for me to be in love with her. At one point I thought I might have loved Veronica, but that was me being young, stupid and fueled by my dick. I thought I was in love with Linley, but that was just me being possessive and not wanting to see her with someone else. Mel was my go-to girl for a long time, but I never developed feelings of love. This, what I have for Gracie, is different, maybe that’s how I know it’s love. Shit, I should have told her.

  “Damn it!” I yell out, smacking the brick siding of a drug store with the yellow bag from Claire’s Arts ‘N Crafts that contains the five new paint brushes I just bought. Why do I always think about the things I should have done when it’s too late? Now, more than ever, I want to disappear into my haven so that I can work out the feelings of stupidity coursing through my veins.

  “Yo, yo, Trav…is that you man?”

  I turn around to see Billy Dixby walking down the street towards me. I haven’t seen Billy since right before rehab. I met him through Veronica. I’m actually surprised to see him here. Last I heard, he had skipped town because his parents put their foot down and stopped feeding his habit.

  “Hey, Billy…It’s been a long time. What’s up?”

  He walks up to me, grabs a hold of my wrist and pulls me in for a quick hug and a pat on the back.

  “Where have you been, man?” he asks. He sniffles, rubbing the pad of his thumb across his nose a couple of times.

  “I’ve been around. Working. You know how it is.”

  “Yeah man, I know, I know. Hey you still talk to Quinton? I’ve been trying to find him.”

  Quinton was our supplier. Anything you wanted, Quinton could get it. Top quality stuff too. I thought I heard that he was arrested at one point, but after rehab, I made it a point not to follow his life anymore. If I would have kept in contact with Quinton, there is no way I would have remained clean.

  “No, I don’t hang out like that anymore. Been keeping my nose clean…my veins too.”

  Billy nods his head as he stares down the street. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, removing one and placing it between his teeth. He holds the pack out to me and I shake my head. Believe it or not, despite the hardcore shit I have put inside my body, smoking cigarettes is something I have never done. He places his smokes in his back pocket and pulls out a lighter. Cupping his hand around the end of his cigarette, he lights it and quickly takes a drag.

  “Listen,” he says as he exhales a puff of smoke. “A bunch of us are getting together to celebrate Frankie Warren’s upcoming wedding. You should come.”

  “I don’t know, man. I don’t do that shit anymore. Been sober now for four years.”

  “No kidding.” He nods his head. “Well, you can come and hang out. It doesn’t mean you have to rally. Do you remember that spot we used to hang at down by Beyers Lake?”

  “Yeah.” Beyers Lake is a large lake on the outskirts of town. I hung out there a lot with my brothers when we were younger, fishing and checking out girls sunbathing in their tiny little bikinis. As we got older, Beyers Lake became notorious as being a hangout for misfits and hooligans, especially at night. How could I ever forget that place? I lost my virginity in the old boat house there.

  “We’ll be there ‘bout eight tonight. Seriously, you should come hang out.” Billy starts walking backwards, pointing his fingers at me. “No pressure man.”

  I yell back at him that I’ll definitely think about it. What surprises me as that I am actually considering it.

  I spend the better part of the day going back and forth with whether or not I want to go. The truth is, I have spent the majority of the last four years with my family, Claire, or, most recently, Gracie. I kind of miss hanging out with all of my old friends. There’s bound to be drugs and alcohol there, I am not even going to entertain the idea that they have all sobered up, but I think I have been sober long enough to resist. It wouldn’t hurt to go see what everyone has been up to and congratulate Frankie on his upcoming wedding. I pull out my phone to text Gracie, letting her know I am going out and I won’t make it to the diner, but I’ll call her later. Then, I grab my keys and head out the door.

  ~*~

  I maneuver my Jeep into a spot at Beyers Lake about a quarter after eight. The party is already in full swing. I head towards the noise. It only takes me a few minutes to find everyone.

  “Travis!” Billy yells out. “You came, man! I wasn’t sure if you would.”

  “Didn’t have anything else going on. Figured it didn’t hurt to come find out what everyone has been doing these past four years or so.”

  Frankie walks over to me, his Hawaiian print shirt is unbuttoned to reveal his white ribbed undershirt. He has a cigarette behind one ear, a beer in one hand and a shot of something brown, most likely Jack, in the other.

  “Look what the mutha-fuckin cat dragged in,” he says. “No shit! Travis fucking Foster has graced us
with his presence once again. What the hell happened to you, man? I went by your place one day and your old man chased me outta the yard. Said you weren’t there. I haven’t heard a thing about you since.”

  “Went to rehab for a while. Got into painting and attending meetings and stuff.”

  “Like house painting?”

  “No, like on canvas and stuff.”

  He nods his head, wrinkling his forehead and pursing his lips together like he is slightly impressed. Lifting the shot glass to his lips, he throws his head back, drinking it up in one gulp. He drapes an arm around my shoulder. “C’mon, I want to introduce you to my old lady.”

  He leads me over to where a group of women are sitting close together talking and laughing. “Come here baby girl.”

  A tiny, thin brunette bounces up from where she is sitting and hurries over to him. Despite the chilly fall evening, she’s dressed in a tiny jean skirt that shows off a peek of her black panties every time she moves. Her tight peach top is stretched as far as it can possibly be over her voluptuous breasts, causing them to spill out over the top. Frankie moves his arm from my shoulders just as she jumps in the air, latching herself onto his body.

  “Baby, this is my old friend, Travis. Travis, this is Audrey, the future Mrs. Warren.”

  Audrey smiles and moves from Frankie to me, wrapping me into a tight hug.

  “It’s so good to meet one of Frankie’s old friends,” she gushes.

  “Hello Travie,” a voice says from behind me.

  My heart stops and my blood turns to ice. There is only one person who has ever called me Travie and it is the one person I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing. I turn around to see Veronica standing there. I feel sad by the sight of her and wonder what she has gotten herself into since we parted ways. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything good. She used to be gorgeous, thin but curvy, soft, shimmery brown hair and blue eyes that could make a man weak in his knees. The woman before me is practically skeletal with greasy hair and dull, lifeless eyes. She smiles, flashing a set of teeth that have clearly been destroyed by meth.

  I hold my hand out towards her, pointing one finger up in the air. “You can stay the hell away from me, Veronica.”

  She rolls her eyes and takes a step closer to me. “Oh come on, baby, you can’t still be upset with me after all these years.”

  “I went to juvie because of you and your lies.”

  Veronica moves so that she is standing right in front of me. She reaches her arms out and flings them around my waist. “Oh, you were only there for a couple of nights before your daddy got you outta there. Besides, I’m sure we can come up with a way for me to make it up to you.”

  “I have a girlfriend.” I take her arms and remove them from my waist.

  “Where is she?” Veronica glances around the crowd, searching for anyone that she doesn’t recognize.

  “She’s too good to bring around this shit.” I grumble.

  I walk over to where someone has started a fire pit and drop down on one of the logs that is surrounding it. Veronica follows me over like some obedient little puppy. She sits down next to me and wraps her bony arms around her equally bony legs, bringing her knees up to her chest.

  “Travie,” she whines.

  “Don’t call me that,” I snap.

  “Are you really still mad at me?” she asks. She cocks her head to the side, sticks out her lower lip and bats her fake eyelashes.

  “What don’t you understand about the fact that you got me arrested?” I ask her.

  “You were the one that got caught,” she accuses.

  “With your stash and you repaid me by screwing Marcus,” I seethe. I’m not even sure why rehashing this shit is pissing me off so much. I’m not interested in Veronica and I got past the fact that she screwed me over and used me a long time ago. It doesn’t mean that I will ever have any desire to be friends with her.

  Veronica lets go of her knees, allowing her bare feet to drop down into the sand. She reaches over and grabs a hold of my inner thigh tightly. She flashes me a smile that, at one point, would have made me do anything she wanted, but now it just makes me want to run away from her as fast as I possibly can. Her hand slides up my thigh and grabs a hold of my dick, which unfortunately for her, doesn’t show the slightest bit of acknowledgment.

  I quickly smack her hand away. “Veronica, that ship has sailed. Go find some other sucker to mooch off of.”

  Her face contorts into sheer anger. “You think you’re so much better than we are, Travis? News flash, you’re not,” she seethes. “You’re a pathetic, washed up, no good junkie, just like you always have been. Just like the rest of us.”

  “Say what you want, Veronica, I stopped giving a shit about what you thought a long time ago.”

  “I bet that’s the reason you didn’t bring your precious little girlfriend tonight,” she continues as if she didn’t just hear a word I said. “You don’t want her to see what you’re really like. You don’t want her to realize how much better off she would be without you cause then she would leave your pathetic ass.”

  “Hey, Trav, you want a drink, man?” Frankie calls out. I turn around to see him glancing back and forth between me and the bitch sitting next to me.

  “Just some Coke, man, I’m sober.” I quickly hop up and walk over to where he is standing, happy to get away from Veronica.

  Frankie throws an arm around my shoulder and leads me over to where the beverages are. “That girl is trouble with a capital T.”

  “Always has been,” I agree.

  I grab a plastic red cup and the bottle of Coke. Unscrewing the cap, I fill my cup up halfway. Since getting clean, I don’t trust other people filling up my cups on the rare occasion that I hit up a party. Some people just don’t understand my sobriety and the fact that, even though my main issue was drugs, I don’t want to drink. I don’t want to put myself in the position where I could be tempted in any way to use again. Getting through the normal stress of life is enough sometimes.

  I bring the cup up to my lips and take a sip as I glance around, surveying the crowd. It really hasn’t changed much since the last time I hung out with these people. The pot heads are sitting in a circle, passing a joint around. There’s a group of people huddled together, one of them holding a mirror that is covered with white lines. They each take a turn, holding the straw up to their nose, moving one end along the powder until it disappears.

  Four years ago, I would have been bouncing back and forth, drinking, snorting, lighting up, shooting up. I shake my head as I take another sip of soda. There are some days that I really don’t recognize the person that I was. Veronica was right in a sense. There is a part of me that is always going to be a junkie. I’m not saying I am going to use again. I have no intentions of doing that, but that’s the thing about recovery. You’re always recovering. It doesn’t just magically shut off to where you don’t want drugs. There are so many days I think just one hit. I can handle just one. I know that isn’t true though, which is why I haven’t done it. I never knew what willpower was until I went to rehab.

  “Hey, man, you still play the guitar?” Frankie asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “Yeah, not as often as I used to though,” I admit.

  “Impromptu jam by the fire pit?” he asks.

  “Yeah, man, that sounds great,” I say.

  I walk back over to the fire pit and sit down on a log, setting my cup down next to me, nestling it into the sand. Frankie walks over and hands me one of his guitars. We both start strumming some of our favorite tunes by Nirvana, with Frankie singing and me doing a little bit of backup vocals.

  The crowd starts moving closer to where we are playing, calling out requests and dedications. A couple people are dancing and a couple people move back by where the trees are to fool around. We used to do this all of the time when we hung out. I miss moments like this.

  A couple of songs in, I reach for my soda, take a sip and frown. It tastes a little off. I
shake it off and chalk it up to the fact that I might be the slightest bit paranoid around these people.

  We continue playing and I stop every couple of songs to take a drink. Each time, though, I swear the soda tastes different than the time before. I take another sip and there is no mistaking the taste of rum in my mouth.

  “Fuck!” I yell out as I jump up. I grab my red cup and smell it. The burning scent of alcohol fills my nose. My head starts spinning as I dump the contents of my cup into the sand.

  “Who the fuck did that?” I yell. I take a couple of uneven steps and widen my eyes, trying to focus on something. Everything is moving though. How much did I drink without realizing it?

  “Enjoying your drink?”

  I whip around to see Veronica standing behind me, smiling an evil smile. She holds up a bottle of rum and shakes it at me. “Really, Travis. Did you not realize your cup was never emptying?”

  “What the fuck did you do?” I ask her.

  “It was so easy. You weren’t even paying attention so every time you took a sip, I added a little more Coke and a splash of rum. Only each time I added a little less Coke and a little more rum.”

  “Why? Why would you do that?”

  “To prove a point.”

  “Which would be what?”

  She walks up so that there is barely any room in between us and leans in close, closing the small gap between us. “That you’re a fuckin addict, Travis, you always have been and you always will be. You wanna know why you didn’t notice the rum? It’s because deep down you wanted it”

  “Veronica, get the fuck away from me or so help me God, I won’t give a shit that you are a female.”

  Veronica cackles loudly, clearly pleased with herself, as she turns and walks away, bringing the bottle of rum up to her lips and tossing her head back as she gulps the brown liquid.

  I’m so fucking pissed off right now. I can’t think straight, and not just because I am drunk. I need something to take the edge off, to calm me down, to drown out the hate I feel building up inside of me. I stumble over to where the drinks are set up and grab a bottle of vodka. Twisting off the top, I bring it up to my lips and take a long swig. No one even seems to notice as the party continues around me. I don’t think they would have stopped me if they could. They are all just a bunch of fucking drunks and addicts. All they do is enable each other. No one cares about anyone else’s sobriety.