by Claire Adams
Her eyes were the worst, though. They were red tinged, glossy, and full of so much heartache that it made it hard to be angry at the drinking. She looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. A bit of vomit was still caked to the side of her lips. “I don’t want to be like this, but I don’t know what else will numb this inside of me.”
“The alcohol is not numbing you,” I pointed out, like I had time and time before. “You try to numb yourself out by drinking, but you’re still in it the next day.”
“I know. I know. Ever since your father-”
There it was. The “f” word, as I called him. I set the plate of food down in front of my mom. A few scrambled eggs fell off, but it cut her off like I hoped it would.
“Stop talking about it,” I said, tightly. “I’m not in the mood, and neither are you. I have shit to do when I get back to Provo.”
My mother’s face fell at that. “You’re leaving already?”
“I’ve been here for two weeks, Mom. Remember? Christmas break. I told you that I would have to go back this weekend to get ready for school.”
I handed her a fork. Her clammy fingers brushed against mine briefly, but I worked to ignore the sensation. She wasn’t going to change. Not for me, and certainly not for herself. We were at the point of hopelessness, though I hated to admit it.
She stabbed at the eggs that had fallen off her plate. “Still,” she mumbled, “it was nice having you here with me. It gets lonely here.”
“Go out and do something,” I replied before venturing to the sink to wash the dishes I had used. I left the ones with food caked on them from last night. It’d give my mother something to do later on instead of moping around the house after I left. “Call up a friend. Take a shower, and find a boyfriend. Do something. Anything, Mom.”
“Like you’re the one to talk about boyfriends. You’ve never had a real one.” She snorted and let out a giggle. As if my lack of a love life was funny.
I ignored the insult hurled at my back. I had no time for a romantic life, nor did I really care to have one. I wasn’t like Bailey who always had some sort of boy toy chasing after her every need.
“I have to go,” I said, drying the pan before placing it back in the cupboard. “I’ll be back once the semester and exams are over.”
“You don’t want me going to your graduation?” she asked, a bit too sweetly. Shoving the plate of food away, she reached around to a small cabinet she kept hard alcohol in.
“I doubt you’ll remember.”
Nausea churned in me when she twisted the cap off a brand-new bottle of vodka. I leaned down to kiss her on the temple quickly as possible to avoid the smell of alcohol and vomit. She was still too drunk to even realize she had thrown up all over herself last night.
“Call me if you need me,” I told her.
“You won’t answer,” she replied, taking a swig that nearly gagged us both. “Thanks for the sentiment, though. It doesn’t make me feel less abandoned.”
“Right.”
I left her in kitchen to drink away her demons that she never escaped from. Grabbing my bags from where I had placed them next to the front door, I fled out into the snowy afternoon with a relieved sigh. The fresh air cleared my head as it always did, and I loaded my car with freshly-washed clothes.
Before I pulled away from the house, I grabbed my mother’s SUV keys from the engine and tossed them carelessly into the snowy front yard. It was peevish to do it, but I figured trying to dissuade her from drinking and driving again was better than bailing her out of jail in the middle of the night. Or having to take the blame for her killing an innocent driver.
Those thoughts lifted from my shoulders as I drove thirty minutes back to Provo. The apartment I shared with Bailey was thankfully empty and cold. I couldn’t handle faking a smile for her today. Our relationship was already strained and strange enough. Half the time, I had no idea if she was a friend or a frenemy, and sadly enough, I didn’t really care.
I kicked the heater on while I lugged my bags into my room before gathering the pile of mail that had fallen through the slot. Separating it into two piles, I debated on calling Bailey to see when she would arrive back to the apartment. It needed to be cleaned, and after spending two weeks of cleaning up after my mother, I hoped Bailey would return within the next day or two. She was OCD about cleanliness like I was.
I settled on sending her a text message about picking up cleaning supplies on the way back to Provo. I turned my phone off after that because I didn’t expect a reply, and I didn’t want to deal with my mother’s usual breakdowns after I left.
The cotton sheets still smelled fresh when I slipped into them despite it being mid-morning. The entire Christmas break had been all about staying up and listening to my mother’s problems. I needed to sleep. I needed to focus. I needed to push away my mother because I didn’t want to go down with her.
“She’ll be fine,” I whispered, rolling over to curl up into a sleepy ball. “She’ll get through the next couple of months. She always has.”
Sleep tugged at me, promising a rest from my worries. I ignored the little voice inside me that screamed, “Liar. She won’t be.” I only said those things anymore to comfort myself. Not because I believed any of it was true. I didn’t, couldn’t.
But unfortunately, I’d run out of options to help her. The damage her drinking was doing to me wasn’t enough… I wasn’t enough.
Chapter Three
Noah
I took one last sip of coffee before turning to look at the organized kitchen and living room. The last boxes were stuffed in the recycle bin outside on the curb, and I was relieved to finally have the clutter gone from my sight. There was no way in hell I would be able to concentrate on anything with my life packed up carelessly in boxes throughout the house.
I still had a few days before the spring semester started to get adjusted to West Coast time, but the dean insisted on meeting this morning to talk about everything. Sleep still clawed at my head, and it was sorely tempting to just go straight back to bed.
Sighing, I poured the rest of my coffee in a travel mug and left the house to embrace the frigid day.
The PHU campus was motionless and blanketed in snow when I found a parking space in the teachers’ parking lot. The Wasatch Range stood behind the campus, mountain peaks covered in snow and gray clouds circling about them. I could feel the presence of another snowfall in the air when I stepped out of my Jeep Wrangler to find the dean already behind me.
“Noah Webber,” Miles Crosby said, excitedly. “A true honor to meet you, sir. I am so excited to have you join us here at PHU.”
He stuck out a meaty hand for me to shake. I shifted uncomfortably on the balls of my feet at the visible excitement. I had no idea why the man seemed so overly happy to see me, but I grasped his hand strongly in return anyway. No reason to fuck things up before I even got started.
“Nice campus,” I said and glanced around, as if visually acknowledging the campus.
Miles grinned in pride. “We sit on 560 acres here. Not like New Zealand, I’m sure. I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It is.”
He danced around on his feet for a moment to the point I thought he had to piss. I tried hard not to fidget in annoyance under his stare.
Finally, he blurted out, “I’m a huge fan of your rugby days. I watched every single time you played.”
My teeth gritted together to keep myself from showing irritation. I didn’t want to hash out my days at New Zealand, or my rugby days. That chapter of my life was over now, and I wanted to focus my attention elsewhere. I wanted away from that shadow everyone talked about because it damn near suffocated me sometimes. Focusing on the past was just a reminder that I hadn’t made it as far as I wanted to, and yet my best days were likely behind me.
“Thanks,” I said, forcing a fake smile on my face “I appreciate that. I’m just here to teach freshman English, though. Nothing else.”
His face fell
ever so slightly. Suspicion ripped through me when a sudden smile spread across his face. Was there something going on that I wasn’t aware of?
“Of course, of course,” he said. “I understand that. Let’s go for a tour. You can get acquainted with the campus, get your office keys, and meet some other professors here.”
The next hour, Miles talked about the campus and various departments of studies they had for students. I admitted inwardly that I was impressed with the entire campus and curriculum. For a college in Utah, their programs were a lot more advanced and studious than the ones I had looked at years ago as an incoming freshman.
Miles led me into a large building on the other side of campus. The smell of old books and paper filled my nose the second we stepped inside the main lobby. Everything was neat and tidy like I had hoped for. Whenever it came to writing, I needed an organized space with no distractions.
“Your office is on the second floor,” Miles explained. “Down the hallway here is the printing room, in case you need to use the printer. We have students who work in here, so they can assist you with anything you need.”
We walked up a flight of stairs that groaned beneath our feet and to the very end of the hall. I pushed the door open slightly to take in the blank white walls and empty shelves. The desk faced wide, arched windows overlooking the entire campus with the mountains looming in the distance.
My office. I loved the sound of it.
“Here’s the key,” Miles continued, handing me a ring of keys. “The others get you into the other buildings late at night if you need to.. We don’t generally like our teachers staying real late except around exam time to help students.”
“Right,” I said, placing the keys in the pocket of my jeans. “Anything else that I need to know about?”
“Nothing that we hadn’t discussed before.” He motioned for me to follow him back out of the English department in the direction of what appeared to be a well-maintained field. My heart dropped with every step closer we got to it, despite how impressed I was with the entire facility in front of me. I knew where this was conversation was going before Miles even said a word.
“This is our rugby facility,” he said, beaming proudly up at it. “Our sports program is top notch, something I take great pride in. Rugby is the gem of my eye, though.” His grin widened at that. “We are currently second in the nation. I could put you in for this season to coach. The boys would love to have a celebrity and well-known athlete coaching them.”
I clenched my fingers into fists to maintain control over my quickly flaring temper. How many times did I have to repeat it to people? I was done with that life. My body couldn’t handle it anymore no matter how much I trained to keep up.
“Impressive,” I said, tightly. “I don’t think I’d offer much help, though. I’ve retired from the sport.”
“I heard about the ACL injuries, but that’s hardly a career ender.”
“It was for me,” I said, flatly. This guy just wasn’t going to get the hint.
Miles arched an eyebrow. “There were other reasons then?” Curiosity filled his voice.
I looked across the neatly-kept field, a pang of nostalgia filling me when I thought of how it had felt to be out there. Nothing gave me greater relief, outside of sex, than to be out there with my blood pumping through my veins.
That was, until the cameras started to follow me around too much. No one could prepare for what stardom would bring. I sure as hell didn’t know what the fuck to do with it. The fans were the bright light behind all of the flashing cameras, and there were other perks, too. Women loved the thought of chaining someone like me down for themselves.
And when I let them believe that, the cameras and reporters were there to document that part, too. There was nothing more aggravating than having your entire life spread out across the tabloids for complete strangers to pick you apart. Especially the critics who cited other reasons why I had left…and those were the right ones.
I turned away to look across the campus pointedly. “Just got to be too much,” I replied, coolly. “My body is getting older, like everyone else who went down before me. I’m not here to talk about that any more, though, with all due respect.”
“I guess I can understand that,” Miles said and slapped at his pudgy gut with a chuckle. “No matter what I do, this stays here. My wife tells me to watch my diet, to walk a mile a day, but it stays put.”
“Age will do that to you,” I said, forcing a tight smile. I barely knew him, yet I didn’t like him. Hopefully the rest of my introductions wouldn’t be so damn stiff and uncomfortable.
We walked back across campus with Miles talking my ear off about the previous championship games. I reminded myself that I needed this job over all his bullshit of trying to get me to coach the rugby team. I never felt so relieved to reach my car when I finally spotted it.
“Thank you,” I said, cutting in over his spiel about the coaching staff needing some help this year to get players into shape. “I look forward to teaching here. Should I send you my syllabus for class in the next few days?”
He nodded eagerly. “Yes, of course. That would be great. You still don’t want anything to do with the rugby team?”
“No,” I forced out, pulling out my car keys. “Not at the moment, but I’ll keep it in mind, if that helps anything.”
“It does,” he said, grin widening. “I will tell the boys that you are considering it. I already sent out an email blast that you were teaching here. Don’t be surprised if you have fans that stop by. I just couldn’t help myself. You understand, of course.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’ll reach out if I need anything. Thanks again,” I said. I shook his hand briefly. “I’ll see you in a week, then.”
I let out a haggard breath when I finally pulled out of the parking lot. “Fuck,” I swore, hitting the steering wheel out of frustration. “Of all the people to be dean of a fucking college, this one has to act like fan drooling over some boy band.”
I ran a hand through my hair and tried to force down the anger burning in my belly. Nothing sparked my temper like reminiscing on what could have been.
No matter who you were, you could never outrun your past – especially if you were even slightly famous. You couldn’t stop one life and start another one without the past wanting to interfere. That much I knew, but I was determined to get away from it.
I wanted nothing more than to teach, write, and maybe find some single ladies around the Provo area. I couldn’t touch any of the females on campus, and even it was tempting, I needed this job to launch other areas of my life.
I had other ways of release in the meantime.
Traffic was a bitch on the drive home, but by the time I reached my house in the middle of suburbia again, I had come up with a plan to avoid the rugby team as much as I possibly could. I also planned on staying away from Miles, too. I was just here in Provo to teach. Nothing more.
I repeated that mantra in my head over and over again: that I didn’t need rugby. I didn’t need a whole lot of friends because I had Hunter. I didn’t need women, either, but that was a futile hope on my part. I only needed what I had. I was content. Happy. Free.
Somewhere in the chanting of lies, I realized how badly I wanted one thing: the soft touch of a woman. It was deadly to even consider, seeing that I had a million other things to worry about. I forced the desire back down deep inside of me.
I had to focus on my job, not get distracted. I didn’t want to, but I had to.
Chapter Four
Iris
The clunk of Bailey’s boots followed by the door slamming open jolted me from a deep sleep. I groaned in irritation, not willing to look at my phone to see what time it was. It had to be mid-morning since Bailey had texted me the night before that she’d be back around 9:00 a.m. or so.
It was too early on our last week of break to be up.
I wrapped myself back up into the blankets with a desperate hope that Bailey would just go into her room.
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“Iris!”
The door to my room was pushed open followed by a gust of freezing air. I tugged the blankets closer about me to glare up at the uppity brunette now at my bedside.
“Don’t bring in the cold weather in with you,” I snapped out.
She rolled her eyes. “I told you that I was coming back today,” she said, cheerful voice filling my entire room up. “I’m surprised to even see you in bed still. I thought you’d be up, early bird.”
“It’s break. I’m allowed to sleep in.”
“Right,” Bailey said. “Get up and come talk to me. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”
She tugged at my blankets insistently when I didn’t budge right away. I kicked them away with a grumble, slipping my feet into a pair of Ugg boots to follow Bailey reluctantly out into the living room. Her luggage was scattered everywhere as she closed the apartment door before turning to smile widely at me.
“So,” she said. “How was Christmas break?”
I slipped into a sweater to warm up. “Fine,” I replied, shrugging indifferently. “Same as usual. Nothing different.”
“Your mom still drinking?”
“You have to ask that question?”
“I guess your bitterness answers my question,” she said. “What did you get for Christmas from your dad?”
“A MacBook Air” I said.
“Nice,” she said. “I got a MacBook Pro and the brand-new iPhone 7 and…”
I tuned out the rest of her prattling about all the fancy things her parents had bought her for Christmas. She didn’t even bother asking where the tablet was. She knew well by now that all the gifts my father sent were left behind at my mother’s house or given to someone else. I never wanted them. It was a poor attempt to win my affections over away from my mother.