by Shane Morgan
I backed away from the window and laid down flat on my back with my head on the pillow. He plopped down beside me, getting the icepack to keep against the side of his face.
We stayed in silence for a while, listening to each other’s breathing, sharing the same craving to get even closer. If our kisses were that good, that immersing, I could only imagine what it would be like to feel Branden’s bare skin on mine, to feel him inside me.
“Stay,” I whispered, gazing up at the concrete ceiling.
He rolled onto his side and stared at me as he replied, “You really want me to?”
I looked back at him, instantly getting lost inside his piercing eyes. “I do.”
“You’re not driving home tonight?”
“No.”
“Your mom’s expecting you—”
“Branden, I love you. Stay.”
Getting the confirmation he needed, he eased over on top of me. Then he lowered his mouth to mine, only to be disturbed by a rap at the door.
“Moya, it’s me.”
“Vanessa…” I answered, surprised, glancing up at Branden with wide eyes.
He climbed off the bed. I hurried to do the same and fixed my clothes and hair, making sure there wasn’t any sign of us messing around even though we didn’t.
Vanessa pushed past me into the room the moment I opened the door. “Ms. Marie said you were still in Harrington, so I figured you’d be here—oh…”
She placed her hands on her hips and leaned on one side, looking back and forth from me to Branden, a sly look on her face.
“Ahem,” she cleared her throat and winked at me. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Actually, Vanessa, I was heading out.”
“Oh, don’t let me chase you off,” she said.
“You’re not. I should get going before it’s too hard to drive in the snow.” Branden walked over to me. “I’ll call you later,” he murmured, kissing me sweetly before leaving.
Vanessa gave me a knowing grin when I closed the door and turned to face her.
“You naughty girl you,” she teased.
I cut my eyes at her. “Nothing happened.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
She took off her red coat, placed it on the back of the chair then plopped down on my bed. I walked over and sat down next to her.
“So, I take it you’re not mad at me anymore?”
“Obviously,” she smiled. “That was silly, plus I need some girl time.”
The distressed look had resurfaced on her face.
“Have you decided what you’re going to do?” I asked.
Vanessa laid down on her side. “I’m going to tell Calvin to give me some space.”
“What about Warren?”
She pressed her eyes shut. “I’m still deliberating.”
“Wait,” I shot to my feet. “You’re willing to drop your boyfriend of three years for someone you only met a few days ago—”
“I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how I feel, Moya.” She sat up. “Maybe my relationship with Calvin has ran its course. Maybe we’re done.”
“No, don’t say that,” I replied in a low, childlike tone, going back to sit down on the edge of the bed. They were the only couple I knew still together after all they’d faced over the years. My grandparents weren’t together; my parents certainly weren’t together. “You guys actually give me hope.”
“Hope about what?” Vanessa stared at me with dreary eyes, as if overwhelmed by her situation.
I draped my arm over her shoulder as I answered, “That love lasts.”
Sucking her teeth, Vanessa hopped off the bed, pulling me up as well. “Girl, let’s forget about that right now. We are going to go out and celebrate, because not only did we finish the first semester of our sophomore year, we sailed through our finals.”
“True,” I nodded. “Still, you know me and partying don’t go well together—”
“Uh, none of that whiny stuff again.” She tapped me on my nose and hauled me over to the closet to get my black coat. “You are coming with me, and we are going to go downtown and tear the roof off any building we grace with our presence.”
She tossed my coat over my shoulder. While I put it on, she went to get hers off the back of the chair.
“You ready, girl?” she asked, buttoning up her red coat and fixing her afro.
“Yeah,” I exhaled. “Let’s go.” I snatched up my purse off the desk, let Vanessa step out into the hallway, then locked my room door.
Hooking my arm around hers, we strutted down the stairs and into the dorm lobby. It had stopped snowing; there wasn’t any on the ground when we walked outside.
Getting to my car in the parking lot, I realized I couldn’t turn back now. I would never be able to get out of not celebrating with Vanessa tonight. I was giving up an evening with Branden, one that would have been great, but perhaps I wasn’t ready after all. And admittedly, I didn’t mind loosening up a bit with my friend.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Branden
It was impossible to slip by Mom with a bruise on my face, not when she was waiting for me to get home. She hastened out of the living room the instant I entered the front door.
“Branden, we need to talk. Your brother will be here soon and I want you to help me convince him that going to Spain is a bad idea. He’ll listen to—” she paused and placed her hand at her chest when I turned to meet her gaze. “What happened to your face? Have you been fighting?”
I didn’t think it looked that bad. I walked over to the mirror hanging in the hallway to examine my face. My cheek was swollen, and there was a cut above my left eye.
“Well?” Mom grew impatient.
I backed away from the mirror and walked over to her. “It’s nothing.”
She scoffed. “Obviously something happened, Branden. Please tell me you haven’t been in a fight. For Heaven’s sake, you’ve had chest surgery only a few months ago.”
“Oh give it a rest, Mom,” I groaned, getting tired of her bringing up my surgery.
“I won’t. Does this have anything to do with Moya?”
Of course the conversation would end up there. Lately she seemed driven on ending my relationship.
“What’s going on?” Dad entered the front door, Ashton right behind him.
“Whoa! Little, bro,” he laughed. “Kicked somebody’s ass, huh?” Ashton reached over and gave me a playful punch to the shoulder. It aggravated Mom even more.
“Don’t encourage this hooligan behavior. You’re older, you should be a good influence to your brother,” she scolded.
“I am being a good influence,” he grinned. “Look at him, he won. I’m very proud.”
“How’d you know I won?” I asked.
He squeezed my shoulder. “You would’ve looked worse if you’d lost.”
Mom scowled and shook her head slowly. “Oh, you…”
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Dad piped in, confused. He settled his briefcase by the stairs and took off his gray coat.
Looking at him, Mom’s eyes darkened. The air suddenly felt tight.
“Where’ve you been?” she snapped.
Dad hung his coat inside the closet, peering around with his forehead creased. “My God, Deborah. I’ve been at work all day. You remember that, don’t you? That I work as a Financial Consultant in a company that bleeds me dry, but I take it so you’ll have all the luxury you desire.” He waved his hand about. “So our sons can have a proper education and receive opportunities I didn’t get.”
Deepening his voice, he spoke in a more furious tone, “Even though I work hard and give you everything your petty heart desires, you still make me feel like a sore thumb whenever I walk through that door.”
Chest heaving, Mom tightened her fists into balls and lifted her chin boldly. “Spare me your self-righteous crap. I’m sick of it. I know about all your accomplishments. Just like I know you’ve been seeing that slut again after leaving work every day. You son of a—”
>
“Wow!” Ashton interrupted, a sarcastic laugh coming out. “This cycle never ends. Does it, Dad?”
My brother and I were like victims in our parents’ endless battle.
With regret in his eyes, Dad glanced at me, then at Ashton and said, “She’s right. I have been seeing someone.” He turned back to Mom. “I’m filing for divorce—”
“You’re walking out on your family for another woman, you bastard!” she yelled.
“I’m not leaving my family; only you.”
“Lying, cheating coward!” her entire body shuddered with each word.
Dad countered, “Hypocrite!”
“Disgrace for a man!”
I wondered if they’d forgotten we were standing there. Witnessing them bash each other made this scene sad, yet trivial.
“And you wonder why I want to leave, mother?” Ashton’s voice came out rasped. Looking over at him, his jaw stiffened in anger, his eyes reddened as he fought back tears. I always knew our family problems affected him deeper than he’d shown. Since he was older, he had more memories of our parent’s battles than I did.
Composing himself, Dad stepped away from Mom and headed down the hallway, shoulders straight, contented, not saying another word to me or my brother about his wanting a divorce.
For some reason, I wondered if he loved this other woman; if he found peace with her that he couldn’t find in this house. Whatever the case, a part of me was actually happy. My parents seemed to hate each other, a lot. Divorce was possibly the best solution for them. And then, there was a side that was sad. I wanted them to remember the love they once had for each other—if it ever existed. There was always a rumor that my mom had married him for money.
Clearing her parched throat, Mom rubbed her forehead then said to Ashton, “We still need to talk about you going away. I’m not comfortable with that decision. Branden, tell him—”
“I don’t care if you’re uncomfortable with it,” he grunted. “And it looks to me like you have much bigger things to worry about, Mother.”
That said, Ashton spun and went up the stairs. He was never one to mince his words, no matter how much they hurt. He’d been that way ever since our parents started fighting.
I peered back at Mom. She folded her arms tightly at her waist, letting out sorrowful sighs. In silence, I debated whether or not to say something consoling—a habit of mine after an argument when she was the last one standing in the stifling air left behind by Dad and Ashton.
She inhaled a deep breath then her gaze met mine. Maybe she wanted to reassure me she wasn’t affected, but when Mom smiled, it was beyond pretentious. I knew she felt her life was over, and I needed to remind her it wasn’t.
That’s what a good son would do.
“You still have me, Mom.”
Surprised by my words, she moved closer and draped her arms around me, sobbing on my shoulder.
“Thank you, Branden,” she choked on the words.
Hugging her back, I muttered, “It’ll be all right. Everything’s going to be all right.”
***
After the drama ended, I went up to my room to relax. My cell phone buzzed the second I closed the door.
“What’s up, Warren?”
“Hey, man. You wanna check out a hockey game later? It’s at L. Roger’s Arena, and I got tickets.” He sounded elated. So was I. It had been a while since I attended a game, and tonight’s college teams match-up should be great. Not to mention I wanted to get out of this tormenting house.
“Sure,” I replied. “Didn’t know you were into hockey?”
“Yeah, well, these tickets were a good deal; hope there’s a fight at least,” he laughed.
I couldn’t help shake my head. Warren was something else. “All right, man. I’ll meet you there in half an hour or so.”
“Yep. I’m already downtown, so just give me a call when you’re heading out.”
“Cool. Will do.”
Getting off the phone, I went into the bathroom and turned the facet on to take a shower. Waiting for the water to warm up, I called Moya. I wanted to know if she drove home to Berlin Heights after all. The snow had eased up, still, it was already dark out and I’d hate for her to drive home tonight.
She answered after one ring, “Hey, babe. What’s up?”
“Hey, are you still on campus?”
“Actually, Nessa wanted to celebrate so I’m out with her now; going to drive home in the morning.”
The thought of her being out now made me worry. Harrington was a college town, and a lot of kids around here partied hard. No wonder Ashton ended up in the wrong crowd, coming close to screwing up his life.
“Okay,” I mumbled. I didn’t want to be the controlling boyfriend. I wanted her to feel free with me, to be able to go out with her friend and have fun. “Just be careful,” I added. Nothing wrong with that.
“Hey, you should meet us. We just arrived at this place called Laney’s. It doesn’t seem as loud or packed as Sound Box, but it gives off a cool vibe.”
Crap! “I can’t, babe. I told a friend of mine I’d meet him later to watch the hockey game.”
“And you really want to go ‘cause you have the hockey fever, huh?”
“I’ll call him and cancel—”
“No,” she stopped me. “Go, have fun. We don’t have to be together all the time.”
I confirmed, “You sure?”
“Yeah,” she didn’t sound disappointed. I was relieved.
“Thanks, babe.” I unbuckled my belt and slid out of my jeans.
“Is that the shower I hear?” her voice switched to flirty.
“Yeah, you want to come join me?”
“As good as that sounds, Branden, I’m not sure your parents will like us showering together under their roof.”
Her response assured me my playful suggestion wasn’t too audacious. After asking me to stay when I was in her dorm room earlier, I could tell our relationship had reached the point where I didn’t have to worry.
“Your loss,” I teased.
She released a short laugh then said, “Listen, I’ll call you when I’m heading back to campus. Have fun at the hockey game.”
“Okay, babe. Thanks. Have fun with Vanessa, and like I said, be careful.”
“Yes, dear.”
***
Later on, I met up with Warren at the ice rink. The game was really exciting, with a packed arena of energetic people chanting on top of their lungs to support their teams. It gave me a rush, watching a hockey game again.
I envisioned myself on the ice, heart pumping, my hand gripping the stick, trying to keep position of the puck. There I was, in my high school team uniform, strategizing with the guys, working our way up to the net.
The best goal was the electrifying one that won the game; on many occasions, it had been me who made the shot. Victory tasted sweeter then. I couldn’t wait to recapture that feeling next year.
At the sound of the horn signaling the end of the final period, the crowd roared around me, jumping to their feet. My mind snapped back to reality. The college team I liked had won.
Warren bounced my arm, laughing, fist-pumping as he jumped up and shouted along with everyone. He’d gotten sucked into the game from the start, especially after the fight around the second period. Crazy guy.
Exiting the arena, we headed up the sidewalk behind the large crowd towards the parking garage.
Warren continued to rave about the game. “Man, I applaud you for playing hockey. That was one heck of a game. Those guys really pushed hard to win. I was only interested in the fights before, but damn, after tonight, I’m a fan of the sport in general.”
I laughed my reply, “Yeah. It’s like any other sport. I mean, we all want to do our best to win. And those were two good teams too.”
“True. So, listen, the same team that won tonight is playing again the day after Christmas. You wanna go?”
I was about to answer when a sharp pain shot through my chest. Voices muffl
ed, as if everything was closing in on me. Heaving, I pressed my hand against my chest and slowed my pace.
“You okay, man? You gonna make it?” Warren asked, getting concerned.
I walked over to the side and leaned against the wall, hunched over and fighting for air. The pain persisted, coming in and out and intensifying each time.
“I’m…all right,” I gasped.
He came over and stood in front of me. I was still bent over with my hand rubbing my chest, and the other resting on the stone wall. People continued to move past us towards the garage. Some glanced at me, curious, but went on their way.
“Man, you don’t look good. Is it…that again?” he asked, growing alarmed.
My head snapped up. “I’m fine. No. It’s not that. I just got too excited.”
Straightening, he looked at me with a worried expression. Warren peered ahead. “All right, you wanna keep moving then?”
The pain hadn’t returned for a few seconds now. I stood up, guessing it must have stopped altogether, and started walking again.
He fell in stride. “Sure you can make it? If you want, I could carry you on my back,” he joked.
I managed a laugh, “How sweet of you.”
“So, you on for that game next week?”
“Sure.”
“Oh and hey, maybe we could double-date sometime, me and Vanessa with you and Moya.”
“So you guys worked it out then?”
He nodded. “Yeah, she’s cool now.”
“I’ll let Moya know. We’ll do that.”
Not long after getting to the parking garage, we reached the level where we’d parked our cars. Warren climbed inside his shiny black, Dodge Challenger. Not too shabby. It was way cooler than mine.
I walked over to my SUV as soon as he took off. Warren wanted to hang out a bit and have some drinks, but I wasn’t up for it. Whatever that pain was from earlier scared me. With any luck, it wasn’t that blasted disease coming back to destroy my life.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Moya