Learning to Live

by R Cole

  “I bet that piece of shit thing in your stomach ain’t even mine. You’re probably lying about that too, aren’t you?” I taste the coppery flavor of blood in my mouth as Brad grabs me by my throat and begins to squeeze. I start struggling for air.

  I can’t scream for the lady who lives across the hall to help me, so I do the only thing I can. I knee him in the balls and feel his hold loosen. I’m in survival mode but not just for myself.

  “Ahhh!!!” he yells, falling over and clutching his crotch. I catch a much needed breath and run for the door. I yank it open and try to scream, but it even sounds weak to my own ears.

  The next thing I’m aware of is something pulling me from behind, then I’m thrown back into the apartment. I land hard on the floor and feel a piercing pain on my right side. I clutch my stomach as Brad kicks me in the abdomen over and over. I try to roll over, but I can’t seem to do it, and I’m starting to feel lightheaded as my strength declines. My vision blurs and I see spots, but I continue to hold on to my child and pray for a miracle before everything goes black.

  6 months later

  Mobile, Alabama

  I stand in line at campus orientation to get my dorm key and class schedule. Looking around, I notice how clean and up to date everything is here. I feel out of place and nervous about being alone in an unfamiliar town, but there’s still a small amount of excitement that’s mixed in. People walk by and no one pays me any attention. Thank goodness. I just want to blend in and not be ridiculed by people. I hope college and high school are polar opposites. Thinking of the next step I need to take, I know I need to find a job, but not the type I had before I left Atlanta.

  Supporting myself in a big expensive city left me little options, especially since I had school during the day. I did what I needed to do and started working at a gentleman’s club waitressing and tending bar. The sleazier you dressed, the better the tips, and with all the debt I had from hospital bills and funeral expenses, I needed fast cash. It wasn’t easy and I’m not proud of it, but they had a no touch policy they strictly enforced, so it could have been a lot worse. Customers who didn’t follow it were thrown out immediately.

  Between bills and the self-defense classes I took for a few months, money was limited. Before the move to Mobile, I was short on cash and wanted to buy Brian’s headstone before I left, so I was convinced by one of the dancers to get on stage. I felt so dirty afterward I swore I wouldn’t do it again, no matter if I was still short on cash. I wasn’t proud of it, believe me, but I was desperate and on my own. I shake my head of the memories until I can be alone and shed the tears that always come.

  As I wipe my eyes dry, I hear a loud whistle and automatically look. I see a guy with light brown hair in a pink polo and khaki cargo shorts looking my way, surrounded by two others in similar attire. I turn around and ignore him. I know guys think I’m cute; that’s one of the reasons Brad was so possessive of me. With everything that’s happened in the last six months I don’t have time to lead people on or date. To avoid any unwanted attention I wear simple clothes. Today’s outfit consists of my old ratty jeans that are ripped from overuse and old, faded blue T-shirt. Unfortunately the shirt doesn’t hide my generous C-Cups. To be fair they are just boobs, and I’m not the only one with them. I see girls in way more revealing clothes than me walking around begging to be picked up. More than half of them wear bikinis. I keep my head down to avoid making eyes with pretty boy.

  After getting my key and schedule, along with a campus map, I start walking toward my destination to unload my belongings, all of which fit into one duffel bag. I’m not paying attention to my surroundings when I feel someone grope my ass. Instead of automatically letting go, the asshole continues to hold on and breathes down my neck. I turn around and remembering my self-defense classes, I stomp on the asshole’s foot and knee him in the groin, but before I can take my palm and ram it in asshole’s chin he’s, KO’d by someone else. I watch as pretty boy from earlier falls on the ground unconscious.

  Thankful but wanting to let Mr. Hero know I can handle myself, I turn around and see the most beautiful eyes that remind me of the ones I’ve only seen once before. They’re a deep brown with flecks of gold around the pupil. My mind automatically thinks back to my stay at the hospital.

  Leaning against the incubator that holds my precious son, I looked at all the tubes and wires connected to his tiny form and start singing A Thousand Years by Christian Perri. I needed him to know he was the most important person in my life, even though this was the first time we’d ever seen each other’s faces. My hand was inside and I watched as my two pound eight ounce son’s little hand grip my finger. The tiny portion of skin I wrapped around my index finger had me longing to feel the heaviness of him in my arms. He was so soft I wanted to touch his tiny body and count all his fingers and toes. My voice hitched with the emotion of loss, knowing I’ll never have that chance.

  I wasn’t supposed to be in the NICU due to my condition, but the doctor said it was okay because they knew how precious time was right now. Even though I have two fresh incisions, I blocked out the pain and refused any medication. I needed to be lucid and alert while sitting here with Brian for the first and last time.

  I drowned out all the noise from the machines and just concentrated on everything that was him. “I’m so proud of how strong and brave you are. You’re my everything and you’ve given me more joy in the past few months than I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. You’ll always be my baby boy....” I cleared my throat and took a deep breath “...don’t worry about me while you’re up in heaven. I’ll miss you every day, but I’ll be okay. I promise I’ll make you proud of me.”

  I wiped my tears with my other hand and sniffled. The nurse who was assigned to his pod brought me a tissue, and I thanked her. Looking past her head, I saw all the pods with babies’ names written on red hearts. I suddenly remembered it was Valentine’s Day and I was with the love of my life, saying goodbye. I felt the burning in my throat as tears filled my eyes and, again, took a deep breath.

  I prayed for the strength to stay strong because I didn’t want him to be scared. I knew it sounded crazy considering he was so small, but every time I felt like I was about to lose my strength and let my emotions take over, his tiny hand squeezed my finger and I was okay again.

  I gazed into his eyes and smiled softly while I told him how special he was to me. Eyes unlike mine or Brad’s, and they were so beautiful—a deep brown—I wondered if they came from heaven. I knew he could see me, so I continued to sing and ignored the reality crashing down on me.

  I shake my head, returning to the present. “Sorry, did you say something?” I ask the guy who is obviously talking to me, but I’m not paying attention. Looking around, I see asshole get up with assistance from another guy and walk—or should I say limp—away. I turn back to the other guy and he’s holding my bag toward me with a smirk on his face. For the first time I notice how sexy he is. I might have a plan to avoid dating, but I’m not blind.

  He’s tanned with short, dark brown, curly hair and perfectly sculpted lips that I can’t help but imagine how soft they must be. He has a strong jaw with a small amount of scruff on his face. The only flaw I can see seems to be a scar above his right eye. I want to reach out and touch it but quickly shake off the urge and look at the ground instead.

  I bet he’s an asshole. Nobody can look that good and still have a decent personality. I study his worn jeans and black, expensive looking sandals. He obviously has money because everything on him looks the part.

  “I asked if you were okay.” I can hear the smile in his voice as a shiver races up and down my spine from his southern drawl. “I’m Jaxon by the way. But my friends call me Jax for short.” I see a hand in front of my face and know I should be nice and shake it, but I don’t trust myself yet.

  I look up again and say in a bitchy tone, “Thank you, Jaxon, but I can handle myself.” I need to let him know I’m not his friend now and never will be. I take m
y bag and start walking away.

  “Don’t I get a name or should I just call you Laila Ali?” I see him keep up pace beside me while I continue to ignore him. “Okay, I get it. You don’t know or trust me since you already had one bad incident in the past five minutes, but you look lost and I know this campus pretty well. If you tell me where you’re going I can help.”

  That stops me dead in my tracks and I sigh. I hate looking lost so maybe I can get him to point out the direction I need to go and nothing more. “Okay.” I finally give in. “I’m looking for Stokes Hall,” I say, glancing over at Jaxon. He stares at me and I tap my foot impatiently. His attention turns to my mouth. My body becomes heated and I unconsciously lick my lips, not remembering if I put gloss on. There is nothing more unattractive than dry lips.

  I shake myself of those silly thoughts and remember that I don’t want to be attractive to him or any other douche on campus.

  “If I tell you it is going to cost you,” he states, taking a step closer so the light breeze picks up his delicious, clean scent. I’ve never smelled something so nice before, but his closeness causes the fear to creep back in. I feel sweat build on my brow while my heart rate increases and my breathing comes out rapidly. I look around, remembering I’m surrounded by others and not alone. He can’t hurt you Trudy. My mantra doesn’t help though.

  I step back, ready to defend myself. His cockiness vanishes and he holds his hands out like I’m a scared animal. “Calm down, all I want is your name. That’s it.”

  I let my shoulders relax and attempt to slow my heartbeat’s marathon. I’m aware everyone isn’t evil and out to hurt me, but it’s a feeling carved so deep in me I don’t know how to stop it. After a minute I decide that since I don’t want to come off as a freak I’ll tell him. “My name is Trudy and my friends call me Trudy.” I can feel his stare on me, so I glance up and feel a flutter in my stomach. Everything seems to stop, including time, and I have another urge to touch him. I mentally shake myself out of the absurdity of it. It must be his eyes reminding me of the love I lost six months ago.

  I can’t deal with this. It’s hot and my bag is getting heavy. I turn and continue on my way.

  “Wait up, Trudy.” I hear him call as his feet hit the ground to keep up with me.

  I don’t want or need this. I have to get him to just leave me alone. I gather up some backbone, determined to get him to not like me with my inner bitch.“First of all...” I turn and put a finger out “...I said my friends call me Trudy, and we’re not friends. Secondly, I can find it from the map...” I wave the campus map in the air “...and lastly, I don’t know you and I didn’t sign up for a tour guide, so don’t worry about it.” I ignore him as I walk off. I don’t need to be around this guy anymore because I can’t think right now. Besides, I’m here to keep up my GPA, not flirt with Jaxon or anyone else.

  “Alright, Trudy,” he says with a laugh in his voice. “I’ll see you later. Take a left up at Jack Brunson Dr. It will be on the corner. I could drive you if you’d like.” He’s still hollering while I walk away. People are starting to stare.

  I spin around because I don’t want to cause a scene. “No thank you.” I make my way in the direction I need to, even though I want to run back and say yes to the offer...because of the heat, nothing more. I just focus on my goal of making a good life for myself and keeping the promise I made to Brian six months ago.

  After I make my way up to my room, I notice there’s only one bed in the far corner instead of two like I’d thought there’d be. I say a prayer of thanks since I won’t be sharing a room with someone and start unpacking my light blue sheets to make up my single bed. Unpacking only takes me a few short minutes. Besides some sonogram pictures of Brian, as well as a certificate with his footprints, I don’t have many personal items.

  I finish hanging my clothes in the small closet and decide to check out the bathroom. Since the sink and vanity area are in the bedroom portion, the only things in the actual bathroom are the toilet and shower. I’m blinded by the pink and white zebra stripes that are everywhere. When I say everywhere, I mean everywhere—from the monogrammed towels to the floor and shower mats, as well as some framed pictures on the wall. I even see a pink night light that diffuses an apple fragrance in the air. I turn toward the shower and notice a pink loofah is already there with all kinds of body wash, soaps, and shampoos. I wasn’t expecting a bathroom that looked like Barbie puked all over a zebra. I take it that my neighbor and bathroom buddy likes pink.

  As I turn to make my exit, I’m assaulted with a piercing scream behind me. “OMG!!! You must be my new bathroom buddy.” Turning around, I’m immediately surrounded by arms and a strong perfume that invades my nasal canal.

  “Yup that’s me,” I say awkwardly while backing away a bit to get a look at my new neighbor. She’s like a cheerleading Chihuahua puppy: cute, small—maybe five feet— and full of energy. She’s obviously not shy, and I’m sure she’s not one to hold her tongue either. Her long blonde hair has some wave to it, and her blue eyes have an exotic look to them. Every stitch of clothing matches—from her pink Nike shorts with a black tank top that has a pink check on the front to a pair of shoes that are...you guessed it! Pink Nike with black checks on the side. Wow!

  “I’ve been waiting all day for you to get here. I was kind of worried that you weren’t coming, but I kept telling myself, ‘Jasmine, calm down! She’ll be here today because classes start Monday, and it’s already Friday. Plus, she’ll still have to get her books and settle in. And of course she’ll want to get situated before the big party tonight that the dorm is throwing.’ I mean who doesn’t want to party on their first night of college?” She finally stops and I’m amazed she’s not out of breath.

  I stand there wondering if I should say something, but I’m nervous. I’ve never been around a girl like her before and don’t know what she expects of me. I guess I need to give her my name.

  I hold out my hand. “Hi, my name is Trudy. Trudy Love.” Instead of the handshake I’m expecting, she hugs me again. Really tight too.

  “Aww! I absolutely love your name. It’s so sweet and has a famous kind of ring to it. My name is boring compared to yours. It’s just plain old Jasmine Coleman.”

  I take a breath when she finally releases me and step back to get her out of my space. I’m not used to people being so close, and today it feels like I’m a magnet for it.

  I look around embarrassed, not sure what to do next, and then notice we’re still by the toilet. She must see how uncomfortable I am because she backs up as well.

  “I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll come by before I leave and we can walk out together.” She smiles a perfect smile, and I can see the excitement building in her eyes. “My brother is a junior, and he’s going to show me around. Since it’s my first night, he’s getting all protective and taking me to the party. I told him that he can’t do it every weekend, but I’m allowing it this time. He can introduce us to people, and no idiot will think about getting fresh with one of us while we’re with him. Unless they want their ass kicked of course,” she says while laughing. “Is that Okay?”

  I don’t feel like going to a party and I want a shower. I need to get in bed early so I can get up tomorrow and look for a job somewhere. I’m about to tell her no but stop. It wouldn’t hurt to have a friend, and she seems genuine. I decide to take a chance on this girl even though I’m scared. I’ve never had girlfriends and have only talked to other girls during class. I want myself to have a life and make some memories. I nod my head and give in. “Sure, but I really need to take a shower first. I’ve been on a bus traveling all day and I smell really bad.”

  She does a little cheer clap while jumping up and down. “Okie dokie! You can use whatever you need in the shower stall. It’s just extra stuff I brought for you as a gift. My own personal stuff is in my caddy.” Walking out the door she says, “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  Once the door is shut, I go back to my room and grab a towel and s
ome jean shorts to wear with my plaid button down. As I take my shower, I can’t help but use the shampoo and body wash Jasmine offered. It smells wonderful and I feel so clean after exfoliating with the pink loofah. It’s much better that an old washcloth.

  Returning to my room, I feel up beat after that long needed shower and turn on my new iPhone—a treat I bought myself before I left, along with a new laptop—to play some Florence on Pandora. Smiling, I get dressed while listening to Florence and the Machine’s song with Calvin Harris, Sweet Nothing, and I then start dancing.

  Forgetting that I didn’t lock my side of the bathroom door, I’m again assaulted with Jasmine screaming, “I love this song.” She runs up while I’m having a heart attack, trying to cover my bra covered boobs, and starts to dance some crazy shake and jump dance. I can’t help but smile at the way she just lets go and gets crazy.

  “I knew I would get you to smile. See? I can be quite entertaining when I want.” She stands there still doing some of her Chihuahua moves, and I burst out laughing so hard I have to clutch my stomach. My awkward moment is forgotten as I try to decide if I should join in or call 9-1-1 for the seizure she looks like she’s having.

  “Stop it. Please, stop doing that. My gut is killing me from laughing so hard. You’ve got to stop.”

  After the song ends and I’m in tears, she finally stops. I take a much needed breath and bend over to pick up my shirt. I’m not thinking about my tattoo until I feel her finger outlining Brian’s foot prints.

  In a soft voice she says, “This is a beautiful tattoo, Trudy. I hope we become really good friends one day, and you can trust me with the story.”

  I look in the full-length mirror on the door and take a minute to look at the footprints that will forever be a part of me because Brian will always be part of my soul. The two lotus flowers are color of Amethyst for February, the month Brian was born. One is open on my left rib cage closest to my heart. In the center are Brian’s tiny footprints, and this symbolizes how he was there, alive for only one day, just like the lotus. The other is closed and symbolizes the death of such a beautiful life that was taken too soon. Vibrant green vines connect the two flowers and spread down my entire left side to my left hip bone.