Forever Love

  Part of me wondered about what could have been with Landon because we got along so well. It was only natural. And him. He was just as curious. I think in some ways though his heart was always with Macy, he wondered because we didn’t have to try. With Macy it seemed he always had to try. It was an effort to be with her.

  When I look over at Landon, he’s staring at his text book, a slice of pizza in one hand and a beer in another. Watching him brings back a memory out of nowhere.

  “Landon…” I pushed against his shoulders.

  Pulling back, but not away, his eyes snapped to mine but then he pushed against me harder, this time his body felt stronger. “Madison…” he shook his head against my shoulder, his breathing heavier than before.

  I heard the door handle rattle and then open.

  “I just don’t get it,” Landon groans drawing me from my thoughts. I feel bad but I’ve missed what he was just saying. “She fucking acts like my mother at times.”

  I don’t have much I can offer him that he doesn’t know already.

  “You know what I don’t get… I can’t blame Macy for hating me. But what hurts the most is that she forgave you, and not me. I don’t get it.”

  “It’s because I have a dick.” Landon says, conversationally, never breaking his eyes from the text book in his lap.

  “Landon…” I roll my eyes and push against his chest when he leans over to grab another slice of pizza.

  “It is.” He says angling the slice of pizza into his mouth. “She loves me because I have a dick and I fuck her like a boss.”

  “Like a boss?” I level him a serious look and smile. “Cash is pretty fucking good.”

  Landon huffs, lashes fluttering closed in annoyance. He hates it when I refer to how good I think Cash is in bed. “Whatever.”

  And then I ask, because I still don’t understand, “Why do you really think she refuses to acknowledge me?”

  “I’m not really sure.” He sounds annoyed and stares at the book again. “But it’s not right and I’ve tried to talk to her about it.”

  “And she doesn’t say anything?”

  He scratches the side of his head leaving his brown hair sticking up. “Nothing that makes any goddamn sense to me.”

  It doesn’t make any sense to me either. It’s like she wanted to hate me all along.

  “Remember when we made out?”

  Landon laughs pushing the pizza box away. “I can’t believe I ate two pizzas.”

  “Me either.” I pick through his pieces of crust he never eats and nibble on one. My stomach rolls when I take the first bite. My body isn’t craving food. It’s craving numbness.

  Leaning over I reach inside my nightstand for the joint I have in there. Landon watches me carefully as I light it.

  All’s quiet for a moment when Landon sighs and reaches for his beer. “Which time?”

  “What?” I look over at him tossing the crust back in the box.

  “You asked if I remembered the time we made out. We’ve done it more than once.” He points out taking the joint from me. “Which time?”

  “The time we were sober. I think we were studying for our world literature mid-term.”

  “Yeah, I remember. Freshman year, right?” He smiles bringing the joint to his lips but doesn’t inhale yet. “I felt like I was kissing my sister, if I had one.”

  “Uh, thanks.” I tease kicking at his legs that he has hanging over the side of my bed. He laughs, his chest shaking with the motion. It makes me laugh because let’s face it, Landon Hayes doesn’t laugh very often anymore. I can count the number of times I’ve heard him laugh out loud. And every time, it’s made me laugh too.

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “It’s okay. No offense taken.” But then I wonder. “Would you have continued if Alexa hadn’t knocked on the door?”

  Landon takes a moment to think about that. He never lies. And he never pretends he’s anything but what he is. I like that about him. I know if he gives me an answer, it’s his honest take on the situation. “Yeah. I probably would have tried to fuck you. I wasn’t thinking right then. At all. And for some reason I thought you would be the answer. I don’t know why, but I remember being upset that we were interrupted.”

  I take the joint back and inhale. Landon knows exactly what I’m feeling right then. He always does.

  Landon shakes his head, his eyes wander to mine. “You’re not a bad person, Madison. But you’re not mine. I shouldn’t have pushed the issue that night.”

  “I’m not anybody’s, Landon.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re Cash’s girl whether you see it or not.”

  “I haven’t been Cash’s girl since that night.”

  “You know, he’s never with any other girl. Ever. Even the cheerleaders. Never touches them.”

  A gasp escapes me as I look at Landon’s face. For some reason I’m relieved. Though I know I have absolutely no say in anything Cash does, it’s a refreshing to know he’s not interested in anyone. Especially girls like Amber or Bethany, two cheerleaders I know are obsessed with him. I don’t know what I’ll do, and I know the day is coming, when he’s with someone else.

  Landon’s quiet beside me and I wonder if he’s fallen asleep when I look over at him. His eyes are on his beer. He’s concentrating, deep in thought with the way his brow is scrunched. “Would you have let me?”

  “Let you fuck me?”

  “Jesus…” he laughs again, his head bopping to the song that’s playing on my phone. “You’re so fucking crass.”

  “So…” I shrug, the mood lightening up as we pass the joint back and forth.

  “Answer it.”

  “Answer what?”

  “Stop avoiding the question.” Landon looks at me, his expression completely serious as he draws his eyebrows together, piercing blue eyes that beg for an answer. “Would you have let me?”

  It’s my turn to think. “I probably would have let you stick it in.” I smiled when he shook his head. “But then I would have stopped you.”

  “Oh man,” his head falls back against the wall with a thud, “that would have totally sucked for me.”

  We’re quiet after that. Landon concentrates on his phone, and then looks at me.

  “Why do you feel like you can’t talk to Cash?”

  I think about his question. I don’t like the question one bit. I don’t want to answer it either.

  But I do because it’s Landon asking.

  “It’s not that I don’t feel I can’t. He would listen if I asked him to. It’s just that he doesn’t need my shit in his life. He’s always so focused and I feel like he’s trying to fix me. If he knew how bad it really was, how often I think about… well… he would do something to fix that. He doesn’t need my shit.”

  In my mind, I’m right. It’s not fair for me to push my burdens on Cash. There’s also a part of Landon that understands that. It’s exactly how he feels about my sister. He’s never felt like he’s good enough for Macy. In some ways, he’s not.

  October 16, 2013

  It’s four AM. I know Cash has his workout at five and him still being here means he’s running late.

  But he’s not stopping.

  He can’t.

  We can’t.

  His breath expels in a gasp when I arch my back against his chest. He’s gripping sheets and whispering words I can’t make out but sound like either fuck and something else.

  I push the palms of my hands to his face and bring his kiss to my lips.

  I can tell when he’s been tempted with other girls, trying to forget me. I know because he’s more desperate for the contact, the connection we don’t have, but we both get glimpses of when we’re like this, soaring on the passion.

  I don’t blame him for searching for it with others. It’s only natural when I give nothing in return but the occasional release. There’s conversations and late night texting but no emotion outside of that. I haven’t told him I loved him in three years. He doesn’t s
ay it either. It’s just something where I’m searching for comfort and he’s the arms I need. I bleed and he tries to compress the wound. I crash, he catches me trying to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders. But I’m always the heart I insist on turning black.

  It’s evident Cash didn’t finish with whomever filled the emotional gap tonight. Maybe she tried, but based on what Landon told me, he never gives. It’s me he runs to. It’s me he’s craving and comfortable with.

  “Fuck, baby…” he grunts, sitting back on his knees, he brings my legs over his shoulders, his hands on my upper thighs driving me into each thrust. I scream out in pleasure, pleasure only he gives me. He’s the only one that ever gives me an orgasm, the only one.

  I’m sure Jenny can hear us. I want her to at times. I want her to know Cash is still mine no matter how many times she makes eye contact with him and watches us fuck in the mornings when he runs to me.

  We fuck for hours sometimes when time allows it.

  However long he wants me for.

  I never ask him to leave, but he does because there’s nothing left of me to give.

  Cash’s body slumps forward, parting my legs for a moment, he finds my breasts, drawing my nipples in his mouth. He doesn’t stay there long before he brings his chest against the backs of my thighs, fisting his hands in my pillow, my knees against my chest. He moves one hand to adjust the blanket and cover his bare ass, but then brings it right back to the pillow. His forehead rests against mine. Sweat covered and panting, we make eye contact. It’s the only time I can make eye contact with him though my knees are pinned to my chest, I love this position because of how deep he is… almost like he’s reaching in to my very soul, it’s an intimacy that’s shared between us when nothing more needs to be said.

  His thrusts come faster now and he’s louder than before, panting and grunting with each movement.

  He pulls away just slightly, enough to part my legs once more so his chest slides against mine. A sheen of sweat covers both of us as he bites my neck. I feel his teeth sink in and I know he’s leaving a mark, I flinch at the pain. I gasp but he doesn’t say anything, he usually doesn’t. Cash is the quietest guy I’ve ever fucked around with. The most he’s ever said is “fuck.” The passion we share when we are like this doesn’t require words.

  I can feel when he’s close but he stops for a moment, attempting to hold himself off but he can’t. He comes, unable to stop. I can feel his dick swell, twitching a couple times but he doesn’t pull out, instead, mumbles against my lips, voice like gravel ripping my wounds open, “One more…” and goes for another. One is never enough for him. He’d go days like this, inside me, if he could.

  I want that too. I want more I just don’t know how to give it so I wrap my legs around him drawing him in deeper. He groans at the position as his lips finally find mine. Giving me intoxicating kisses, he’s searching for an answer, one I can’t give. He’s asking me what this is with the passion infused with our kisses. And every time he gets the same answer. Two people afraid to let go. If there was anything I was holding onto, just within reach, it’s Cash.

  The blanket falls away leaving our naked bodies—just like our hearts—bared to the world. It’s then that he doesn’t care because just a moment later the rumble that leaves his heaving chest, the way he throws his head back and the way that million dollar arm pins me to the bed is worth the whole world to see. He looks down at me as he shakes, body trembling, eyes dark as he stares at me, his brow scrunched in concentration. His breath expels in heavy gasps when he draws his bottom lip in. I know what he likes so I push him back, my hand on his chest, and kneel in front of him for a moment and remove the condom tossing it on the floor next to my bed. Taking him inside my mouth, I taste the latex from the condom but I don’t care, I have to have Cash like this, all of him, in the most intimate way. In the low light of the early morning, I can see Jenny’s awake by the light in the bathroom, watching us. When I see the door’s cracked, I know for sure. It’s weird that she does that but I can only assume it’s because she has a thing for Cash. She’s curious about him and why he’s drawn to someone like me.

  Despite knowing she can probably see us, though my room’s dark, we don’t stop.

  At least I don’t.

  Cash leans forward, his hands on my ass, body slumping against mine as he thrusts his hips into my movements. He moans, one hand moves from my ass to fist my hair in his hand, and I grab onto his hips driving him into my mouth as hard as he wants to go. He comes again, just as strong as the first one, hunched over and clinging to me, I feel my mouth flood with the warmth of him.

  This is what I give Cash Bryant. Release. I don’t give him love the way he craves it, but I give what I can, what I feel right now. I give him a girl so bent she’s wrapped around him, but not touching. Like a cuff bracelet. Always there but just hanging off your wrist. Never attached.

  When I know he’s done, I pull back and watch him, sitting up on my knees like he is. He’s not looking at me, his hands on his knees and he pants. His lashes flutter, a quick peek at me and then he pulls away completely. As soon as he’s a foot away, I feel the coldness creep over me, the warmth of him so far away.

  When he stands and pulls his jeans on, a wave of nausea hits me. I’m not saying anything to him and that feeling of utter despair overtakes me.

  There are times—when he’s leaving my room at four in the morning that—I feel I’m holding him back.

  October 17, 2013

  I drink.

  I smoke.

  I pray for darkness.

  I find it.

  My problem is finding it in ways I shouldn’t. Ways that lead me to trouble.

  It’s Friday night, I’m on my knees in a room that’s too dark, too loud and filled with guys I don’t know. Everything’s spinning and I’m gone. My stomach burns when images of Cash flash behind my closed lids.

  Check yes or no.

  Is it me or him? He’s too young to say this. He’s too young to feel this intensity. He’s nine years old, but he does. We do.

  Promise me. Promise what? Forever.

  I want to ask you something tonight? Anything. Stay with me.

  You’re killing him.

  I am. I know I am.

  What are you doing to me?

  I’m destroying you.

  I roll on my back and stare at darkness. There’s a steady rain falling and I’m outside now.

  How’d I get out here?

  I don’t know.

  I blink.

  And I blink again. I breathe. And then again. My chest feels like someone is on top of me.

  I’m in the middle of the yard, grass green surrounds pitch black. I’m hot so I reach down to my chest to see what I’m wearing. I have on football shoulder pads and my panties. Nothing else. No bra.

  Raising up on my elbows, my fingers dip into the wet grass, nails embedding in the dirt.

  As I look around, a pair of strong arms tug me closer and slide my panties down pushing me flat against the grass. The heat leaves my body all at once and I start to shake.

  A guy hovers over me, spreading my legs apart.

  I blink.

  And again.

  I think it’s Jet but I can’t see, everything is so blurry and dark. Headlights spark in the distance and I see that it is Jet. His hands go to his jeans and he’s unbuttoning them, pushing them down past his hips.

  I try blinking again. Maybe it will stop.

  More images. It’s all wrong and my stomach turns, my throat tight as the vomit rises.

  The boy above me, he’s the wrong boy. Always the wrong one. I cling to his neck imagining Cash, needing him. Wanting him.

  I say his name.

  He doesn’t respond.

  I look up at the sky, there’s one star I focus on before the clouds cover it, rain pelting my face.

  Raising my hand, it feels so weighted, I push against the heaviness on top of me. “Stop…” I don’t say it loud enough.


  I try to move back but he doesn’t let me. “Come on, you know you fucking want it. Just take it.”

  He’s wrong.

  I don’t want him. Or this.

  “Get off her!”

  That voice is familiar.

  “Get lost. She’s asking for it!” I feel the guy pull out.

  My body is heaved by strong arms that hold me close to his chest. I think maybe he wants his turn, but I know that smell and I know his voice.

  It’s Landon.

  He’s saving me from the bitter cold again only he’s there too. I smell it on his breath and skin.

  He takes me to his car but we don’t move.

  “Madison…” his voice is distant but he helps me get my panties back on.

  “What are you doing?” I ask trying to pry one eye open. It’s hard. An effort I don’t have.

  “You’re naked. I’m trying to get your panties on.” He taps my knee. “Help me out. Lift up.”

  I do and smile, lightly when he’s struggling. My head falls back against his seat, my legs dangling over the edge. “Are you taking them off?”

  He laughs, he’s high too. But he’s not as far gone and still making sense. I’m not.

  “I’m usually taking panties off, not putting them back on.” His brow scrunches, he’s trying to figure out how to get them on since they’re sticking to my thighs. “This is surprisingly difficult.”

  I think I laugh again. I’m not sure.

  I close my eyes and when I open them, I’m on Landon’s bed and puking. Colton’s holding a bucket, Landon’s holding my hair and rubbing my back.

  “Jesus…”

  “What did she take?”

  “Fuck…”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Should we call Cash?”

  I moan shaking my head. Please don’t. I can’t actually speak the words. He can’t see me like this. He’ll never talk to me again.

  There’s voices all around me, I turn my head to the one that’s familiar. Landon.

  “Madison…” They’re shaking me. I curl into myself wrenching in pain as my stomach turns and twists.

  “I think we should call 911.”