Finding Our Way

by Ahren Sanders

  Nate never mentions Holli, which I’m thankful for. I prefer not to hear about her at all. Bryce has contacted me a few times via text, email, and even a few voice messages. Instead of calling back, I always reply with the same answer.

  ‘Hey Bryce! Nice to hear from you. Hope you are well. Things are great with me. Super busy. Maybe we can catch up soon. Thanks for checking in!’

  This always seemed safe since it acknowledged his message. Confirmed I was okay. And mentioned I was busy.

  So today the message ‘We need to talk.’ Catches me off guard. What do we need to talk about? Curiosity gets the best of me and I type a reply.

  Me: Why? Is everything okay?

  Bryce: We need to talk.

  Me: IS NATE OKAY????????

  Fear washes over me for a brief second, but my parents would have called if there was a problem.

  Bryce: Nate is fine. You’ve been dodging my ass forever. Now I hear you aren’t coming home for Christmas—again. SO as I said, we need to talk.

  My mind goes into defense mode and I need to shut this down. He doesn’t get to decide when we talk. What is there to say? We were friends and I’ve been a shitty friend, but he has a fiancée. What the hell does he need with me? He broke my heart, I don’t owe him an explanation and vice versa.

  Me: I haven’t been dodging you at all. It’s nice to hear from you. I hope you are doing well. I’m still super busy, as a matter of fact, sitting in class now. Yep, going out of town for family trip over holidays. Maybe we can catch up soon. Thanks for checking in!

  Bryce: GODDAMMIT, Devon! Cut the bullshit. Either you call me or else. I mean it. I’ve put up with this for too long. You have to let me explain.

  Silence

  Bryce: Devon! I know you’re there. I can see when the message is delivered. Answer me.

  Silence

  Bryce: I’ll give you two days.

  Luckily my professor comes in and starts the class. I turn off my phone after sending Quinn an SOS message.

  Me: Tequila and limes for dinner.

  ~~~~~

  Ugh—I feel like shit. I skipped my class this morning and now Quinn’s driving us to D.C. to chase series of protests we found online. She watched as I drank myself into oblivion last night, dissecting every text from Bryce. At one point she called Nate, and he tried to talk me into at least listening to Bryce, but I shut him down. He acted really weird about the whole thing. I figured it was because they were still best friends. Little sisters and best friends never mix. I’d learned my lesson.

  “Let’s make sure we get the protesters outside the White House. I have an idea,” I tell Quinn as she parks.

  “You got it,” she agrees.

  We go in different directions, making plans to meet in three hours. I trudged along the back of the park, still cursing my hangover and the man who I couldn’t get out of my mind.

  Once I pass the first alley, I stop and turn back. There’s a very petite lady and two small children sitting in a huddle. She holds the small children as they cry. They look at me uncomfortably as I approach.

  I explain I’m a college student taking pictures for a project and they instantly relax. Over the next hour, I listen to her story of fear and uncertainty and I know—I have the story for my World Journalism paper. I only leave them to go to the protest and take pictures for Quinn’s piece.

  On our way home, we talk non-stop about our different experiences. She found her angle and I found mine. And for a brief moment I think about how proud Nate and Bryce would be. But I let it go… This is my life now.

  Chapter 2

  Three hours. Only three hours until I get on the plane and head across the country to Aspen, Colorado, for the next ten days.

  Quinn is next to me refreshing the site every few minutes looking for our grades to post. I asked her to stop an hour ago, but she won’t. She’s addicted. If she gets less than a B she’ll have a total melt down. That’s one reason we’re at the airport so freaking early. Our flights are an hour apart, but she needed moral support.

  So I sit here drinking a beer, and she has her head buried in the computer. My adrenaline is flowing, ready to be on the slopes and Quinn is killing my excitement.

  “Will you stop and have a beer?”

  “Yeah,” she sighs pushing the computer in her bag.

  “So, what are you thinking about Miami on New Years?”

  “My parents got us a room. After the game, I guess we’ll figure out where the party is.”

  “Knew we wouldn’t be apart!”

  When UVA was invited to play in the Orange Bowl, our plans changed completely. My parents got us a room away from the chaos. My break was looking awesome, snow and sand sounded heavenly.

  It’s been ten days since Bryce texted me and I’m still on edge. He said he’d give me two days and then nothing. My heart was not letting me forget, but my mind was winning. I had to let go.

  Quinn and I decided to do a few shots before our flights and somehow ended up with an audience. We had guys doing body shots up until the last minute. We said our goodbyes and ran to our gates.

  I settle in with my iPad, getting comfortable against the window seat when the scent of familiar cologne wafts through my senses. Holy shit! It’s been a while but I’d know that smell on my deathbed…Bryce. I look around, inspecting every seat but there are no familiar faces. It’s ridiculous; tons of men probably wear the same brand of cologne, why does my mind automatically assume it’s only him?

  A young businessman sits next to me and immediately brings out his computer. I sink down and close my eyes. Knowing someone on this flight is going to torture me with the one scent that can bring me to my knees.

  Once we take off, I order a vodka and soda, showing my fake ID with a huge smile. The guy beside me chuckles and gives me a wink. I almost think he’s flirting but he snaps his attention back to the computer.

  The flight attendant returns with the drink and I suck it down quickly. The stranger beside me laughs softly again, shaking his head. Really? Is he flirting or judging? Not giving it a second thought, I position my hoodie against the window and fall asleep.

  Dreams invade my mind. Images of the rally in D.C. last week and the woman that spoke to me candidly about her fears. The two small children that clung to her but watched me in fascination. Then the scene fades to just me in a field, laughing and smiling. Spinning in circles as rain drenches me. I feel carefree, happy. Lightning strikes and someone is calling me, telling me to get out of the rain. A hand reaches for me but there is no face. The damn cologne permeates the air around me again, so close…

  I jerk awake and feel warmth on the skin of my wrist. There’s a hand wrapped around it securely, resting on my thigh. I lurch back ready to scream when my gaze connects with the deep blue eyes I’d recognize anywhere. Bryce Randolph is facing me, caging me in between him and the wall of the plane. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. My eyes rake over his body. The last nineteen months have been good to him. His chest is fuller, his shoulders broader. The muscles in his arms snug tightly to the long sleeve thermal shirt. For a brief second, I grin at him then remember where we are.

  “What are you doing here?” I hiss and pull back on my wrist.

  “We need to talk,” he growls.

  The man occupying the aisle seat has disappeared.

  “You keep saying that, but what do we need to talk about?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Where should I start?”

  Seriously?

  “Well, you can start with answering the question. What are you doing here?”

  “I gave you two days to call me, or else. This is the ‘else.’”

  “You got on a plane that’s going to Colorado because I didn’t call you?”

  “Not just that. If I got another one of your fucking fake ass texts telling me ‘you were busy’ and we’d ‘catch up soon,’ I was going to punch something. This shit has gone on long enough.”

  “I am busy!”<
br />
  “Devon, don’t throw your sass. I live with your brother. If you have three hours a week to fill him in on everything from your school project to your latest failed date, you have ten minutes to spare for me.”

  “You listen to our conversations?”

  “If I can. It’s the only way to know how you are. The monotone texts with the repeat message give me nothing.”

  “So you fly to Virginia to get on a plane with me, to then turn around and fly across the country three thousand miles?”

  “Drastic measures.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”

  “It was a last resort to get you to listen to me. Now I have almost six hours with you alone.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I share you with the rest of our families for the next ten days.”

  “What!?” I screech a little too loudly because the woman in front of me turns around and looks at me worried. I nod apologetically.

  “Yep, I’m delivering you safely to Aspen, where we’ll meet our families.”

  Dread washes through me. There is no way I can be around Bryce for the holidays. Even though I’m doing better, seeing him makes old feelings resurface. Feelings I thought were gone, but obviously just repressed. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. My breath picks up and I start to wheeze. My vision becomes spotty as tears pool in my eyes.

  “Hey, Devon, what’s going on? Breathe baby girl.” Bryce’s arm wraps around my shoulder and tugs me into his shoulder.

  “Holli?” the word slips out and my voice cracks.

  His face melts and he lifts my chin so I have no choice but to look at him. “There is no Holli. If you’d have responded to my texts or returned my calls, you would know that. She’s been gone a while now, Devon.”

  The confusion I’m feeling must be transparent because he chuckles and laces his fingers through mine, holding my hand tightly. He motions for the flight attendant, who disappears into first class and comes back with my original seatmate.

  Bryce shakes his hand and thanks him then stands. He gets my bag and pulls me behind him.

  There are two empty seats in the back of first class and he motions for me to take the window seat again. The flight attendant brings him a beer and me a Diet Dr. Pepper.

  “I’m not really in the mood for a soda.”

  “Humor me, with the amount of alcohol you’ve had the last few hours, I need to try and clear your head and make you stay awake. At least until we’re done talking.”

  “Have you been watching me?”

  “Yep. Been watching you since you came through security. Nice body shots by the way. I almost ripped those guy’s head’s off. But I kept my eye on the bigger picture.”

  “Bigger picture?” I squeak, embarrassed he saw the guys at the bar.

  “Yeah, like getting you on a flight where you had nowhere to run.”

  “But why? What do you need to talk to me about? Really what is there to talk about?”

  “Maybe the fact that I saw you or spoke to you almost everyday for years and you cut me off without even a goodbye. Maybe the fact that we used to be close, and you’ve dodged me repeatedly for far too long.”

  “This is about me not being your friend? Because I’ve always been your friend Bryce, but my life has changed. And let’s not forget, I’m Nate’s little sister.”

  “My friend? Nate’s little sister?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “You have no fucking clue do you? I stopped thinking of you as Nate’s little sister the night you stuck your tongue down my throat with the sweetest kiss I’d ever tasted.”

  Embarrassment floods my cheeks and I look around to see if anyone heard. But the people around us are all lying back with headphones, watching the in-flight movie.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, it was the highlight of my life so far. I dream about the feeling of your soft, sweet lips on mine. You have to understand where I was coming from. You were fifteen years old, I was almost nineteen. Leaving for college in a few weeks. And you should have been off-limits.”

  I think about it for a second and see his point.

  “Okay, but don’t flatter me. I’m sure a baby on the way and proposing to your girlfriend trumps a kiss from a lovesick teenager.”

  “No.”

  I roll my eyes and reach for his beer, which he quickly replaces with my soda.

  “Fuck!” he groans rubbing his hands over his face. “Shit this is hard.”

  “You know what? Let’s not make it hard. Let’s not talk at all. I’ve personally had enough. I’ll go back to sleep and you can watch the movie. Then when we get to Aspen, we can go our separate ways.”

  “How do you propose we do that? We’re in the same house.”

  “Not if I go to Nashville!” I slap my hand over my mouth, cursing myself for saying my plan verbally.

  “You wouldn’t. Your parents would be so upset.”

  “They would understand. They’ve always understood,” I whisper, and watch his face fall.

  “Shit, that explains it.”

  He throws his head back and drains his beer, then turns to me and pleads. “Please listen to me, Devon. Let me explain. Since the day you turned eighteen, my life has been a rollercoaster. I’ve had to make some really hard decisions and the one person I wanted to throw a joke at me or make me smile has been gone.”

  My heart beats so loud it’s a wonder my chest isn’t pulsing. I want to tell him no, just to leave the past in the past, but I can’t. “Okay.”

  He motions for another beer and I give him my drink to throw away. The little I sipped, threatening to come back up. My mind is telling me to just hear him out, but my gut is saying he’s about to crush me again.

  “Where should I start?”

  “Wherever you want.”

  He sighs and then turns his whole body to me, knees and chest trapping me in.

  “Nate and I had a plan. Officer Candidate School after college. Serving our country, being the men we wanted to be. Our plan was in sync until I met Holli. She was easy, a simple distraction. I swear it was only casual. About three months after we met, she became clingy. She had a fit when you and Quinn visited. She knew who you were. Not just Nate’s little sister, but she knew who you were to me. What you meant. I blew her off all weekend and she saw us at the bowling alley that Saturday night.

  “The week of your birthday and graduation, she tried to pin me down on the status of our relationship. I explained there was no relationship. She told me she was late and took a test that morning. She was pregnant. My world stopped. I knew that she wasn’t who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but what about the innocent child? He or she never needed to know their mother was a quick lay.”

  I wince and he notices.

  “This isn’t a pretty story, Devon. But I’ll always be completely honest with you. Especially about this.”

  “Go on.”

  “She tricked me. I wanted to talk to my parents alone, but she showed up to our apartment with her bag packed and convinced Nate I invited her home with us. He played along since he couldn’t find me. But when I got there and found her, I was livid. She gave me an ultimatum. Either I introduce her to my parents, or she made a decision about keeping the baby alone. I caved. When she met my parents that night she played me. She made our relationship seem stable, committed and then let the pregnancy slip. My mom was shocked. My dad knew right away something was wrong. We talked that night after Mom and Holli went to bed and he made me understand my obligations were clear. Finishing school, OCS, and being a good father.

  “The next morning, my mom asked me if our relationship was serious enough for me to marry Holli and she walked in. Her reaction was disturbing. She jumped on me and accepted a marriage proposal that never occurred. We had to be at your house in a few hours and I called Nate to tell him what happened. We knew she was crazy, but Nate didn’t want to ruin anyone’s day. My mom knew I was unhappy, but made the effort to keep
Holli satisfied. When she saw you coming down the stairs that day, she stiffened and held onto me. I knew it was going to be bad.”

  “So you never proposed to her? She wasn’t your fiancée?”

  “Never. When we went back to UT, I had a heart to heart with her. Using my parents’ words of wisdom, I explained I would be the best dad in the world, but I didn’t love her and had no plans to marry her. She turned against me for days, threatening to end the pregnancy, and I was a wreck. Once again, I caved and promised to give the relationship a chance. She was a manipulative bitch, but she was carrying my child. I tried, I really did. But nothing ever developed on my end. When she lost the baby, we were in the movies. She started cramping and panting hard. I knew something was wrong, but she ignored it—saying we were on a real date. Finally I forced her to the hospital, where she miscarried. It was devastating. She hung to me, and I let her. Her parents live in Utah, so I took her to mom and dad’s to rest for a week.”

  “That’s so sad, I’m sorry.” Two tears fall down my face as I think of anyone losing a child.

  “She took a while to recover. I knew she was hurting. We both were, but I was able to compartmentalize. She had nightmares and anxiety attacks all the time. I felt an obligation to help her through her pain. By December of last year, she was in counseling and working through the loss. It had been months, but she wasn’t getting better.”

  “I don’t understand, was she your girlfriend?”

  “Not in the true sense of the word. But after the surprise pregnancy and the miscarriage, she asked me not to embarrass her further. The loss of her ‘boyfriend’ would be too much. So I played along. I met her a few times a week on campus for lunch, took her to dinner and made sure she had support when she felt depressed. But we never had a relationship outside of that. Finally last February, she made a break through. Her counselor asked me to come to her last session and I agreed. When I showed up it was an ambush.”