by Foxx, Gloria
Boston slams the trunk before pulling me close to say goodbye. Gloom settles in my stomach at the upcoming separation.
“I’ll miss you Sterling.” He nudges my temple with his cheek, and I lean in. I can’t help myself.
I bow my head, lifting my eyes and not letting on how hard this is.
“Julie’s ready. You’re ready. Go see your father and mother, see if you can repair your relationship.”
“I know it’s only one night, but I’m going to miss you,” he says, pulling me into his arms.
Wrapping my arms around his lower back, I settle my cheek against his neck, right above his collarbone. “It’s not like we spend all that many nights together,” I murmur below his chin.
“True, but I’ll be in Chicago, and that might as well be a million miles away.”
“C’mon, it’s only two hours away,” I protest, with a funny feeling in my stomach.
“Well I can’t run over to your apartment at a moment’s notice.”
“You can call me.”
“Sure. I’ll call and text along the way.
“I’m having lunch with Annie so if I don’t answer, that’s why.”
“Okay.”
I lift my head to meet his eyes and slide my arms up his back, pulling his shoulders even closer. I can see the smile in his eyes and some uncertainty.
“I’ll be right here waiting when you get back.”
Boston holds me up against his body, my toes barely skimming the ground as his lips crush mine in our first farewell. I hold on as tight as I can, feeling like one of those clingy girls who doesn’t know what to do when not attached to her boyfriend.
“Gross,” says Julie. “Get a room.”
We pull apart. Julie pulls open the driver’s door and disappears inside.
“Have a safe trip and a good visit with your parents.”
“I will. Miss me?” he questions, in our last moment.
“Hell, I miss you already.”
He smiles, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me in for one last hard kiss.
I wave as Julie pulls from the curb and continue waving until they’re out of sight.
Feeling like a sap, I drop my arm, turning back to my car. Pulling up the hood on my jacket, I shove my hands in my pockets and drop my head, so people on the street don’t see the moisture gathering in my eyes.
Chapter 13
Annie and I meet on the street outside the sandwich shop. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me in for a hug. I’ve never been a hugger, either with family or friends, except for Emma.
I wrap my arms around Annie, taking comfort in the greeting.
We enter the dim sandwich shop. I’m comfortable here. It’s not bright with sunlight or fluorescent, just a dim amber glow and earthy tones. It’s the slowing pace of autumn, the color of Boston’s eyes, the warm feeling of hearth and the melancholy of endings.
We order sandwiches and move on to the drink station where I add a touch of cream to my coffee. Annie goes for a soda.
“I should try drinking coffee,” she says, “if it’ll keep me thin like you.”
“I didn’t drink coffee before Boston. It must be good genes.” I think about how thin my mother is. Then I wonder if I’m wrong and her weight is more about her lifestyle choices than her genes.
“So where’s the B-man today?” We’d just settled into our seats.
“He went to Chicago to see his parents.”
“Whaaat?”
“I know. I guess his dad is sick and his mom wants him to visit.”
Annie sighs. “I hope it goes well.”
“Me too.”
Our sandwiches arrive and we’re quiet for a minute, enjoying our lunch.
“So do you miss him already?”
“I do.” I can feel the ends of my lips curl up at the thought. It’s one of those closed-mouth, not-trying-to-smile, but you can’t help yourself smiles.
“You’re falling in love Sterling.”
“What? I am not. This is a casual thing.”
“There’s nothing casual about you and Boston,” she smirks.
“But there is. We’re not dating, not boyfriend and girlfriend, just friends who enjoy each other’s company.”
“And each other’s bodies … don’t forget that.” There’s laughter in her voice that’s somehow grating, when it shouldn’t be.
I smile, but I can’t laugh. “I think Julie likes him,” I confess.
“I know she does. She makes every effort to have breakfast with me, and she’s always so much brighter when he joins us.”
Something sinks inside my chest. “She has breakfast with him?”
“With us, not him alone.”
That should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. The hot-air balloon that’s been there before is deflating fast. It’s not an explosive blowout or a slow leak, more a sudden loss.
“Oh no … I’m falling in love.”
“Actually Sterling, I think you’re already in love. There’s nothing you can do now, but hold on and enjoy it.”
“But I don’t want to hold on,” I whine.
“Too bad. This is what we all live for, the thing we’re all looking for. Some search years and you’re one of the lucky ones who found it early. Now all you have to do is grab hold of Boston and hang on.”
“My relationships spell disaster and I’d hate to do that to him.”
“What do you mean, ‘do that to him?’”
“I mean get serious and then implode. It’s got to be even harder when love is involved. I’m not going to do it Annie.”
“Oh Sterling, It isn’t always that way.”
“It is for me. I’ve had enough and I’m not sure I want to go through it again.”
“Then why did you start seeing Boston?”
“I don’t know.” I slouch, my head tipping forward, my back hunching, wilting like a flower collapsing from within.
“It’s because you like him. You’re attracted to him, and you hoped something might come of it.”
“No. I like him. I’m attracted to him and I figured sleeping with him would get him out of my system.”
“You thought you were just scratching an itch? You are so wrong Sterling. I could see it that first day he walked you to class. There’s something between you two, and you better figure it out before you push him away.”
“I’m not figuring anything out,” I huff, my spine going stiff again. I grab my bag, knocking my chair over as I rush to the door.
I leave Annie sitting at the table, both her lunch and mine half eaten as I rush from the sandwich shop.
Walking back to my car, I bowed my shoulders against the cold washing through me. It’s not from the frigid November air. I’m cold because I’m running from the truth.
* * *
They were late. I waited for nearly twenty minutes, pacing and nervous before I texted. “You guys coming?”
“Sorry. We got slowed down coming out of the city.”
“What’s your ETA?”
“About ten.”
“Okay. I’m here.”
“You don’t have to wait. I’ll see you Tuesday.”
“I’ll wait. I’ve missed you.”
“Good. I’ve missed you too.”
It’s true. I’ve missed him. I didn’t sleep much last night, coming to terms with Annie’s insight. I’m not jealous, although I am worried. If I really love this guy, it’s going to be like Emma all over again when it ends. I contemplate ending it now. I’ve had my fun, but I’m not ready. That little bit of hope sparking and then disappearing like a flash of reflected sunlight keeps me focused. I want to see where it comes from, bask in it and see where takes me.
As I’ll soon learn, when the sun moves that flash of reflected light disappears. Like Emma, it’s over already. I just don’t know it yet.
“Hi,” Boston says as he climbs out of the car, leaning in to kiss me. He pulls back with a big goofy grin, his arm still holding tight around my wais
t.
“You’ve missed me. I can tell.” I try to smirk, but I can’t keep the secret as my lips curl into a big smile of my own.
“You’ve missed me too I see.”
Julie’s not so excited about our reunion. “Cut it out you guys. You’re embarrassing.”
“You’re just jealous,” Boston teases as he pulls away and moves toward Julie to get his bag from the trunk.
“Hey, can you check my oil before you go?”
“Sure. I need to give you money for gas too.”
“No need. I was going anyway.”
I stand to the side watching as she cocks her head and flips her hair, trying to get his attention. He didn’t seem to notice as he pulled a red scrap of fabric from a small bin in the trunk.
“Can I use this?”
“Yep. There’s oil and windshield wash too.”
He grabbed the jug of blue liquid and left us behind the car, ducking into the driver’s door to pull the hood latch.
“You guys had a good trip?”
“It was wonderful,” Julie beamed as if she’d been on the best date ever.
“Good.” I had nothing else to say, standing quiet and awkward while waiting for Boston. The hood is up and he’s disappeared behind it doing whatever it is he’s doing.
“I know who you are Sterling.”
“What?” Tension laced through me, pulling that single word tight.
“My family lived here until this summer.” I didn’t understand and she must have realized from my expression because she continued. “My dad took a job in Chicago almost two years ago and he commuted rather than moving while I was still in high school.”
That’s not what I really wanted to know. She’s younger than me and I can’t imagine where we might have had contact, but I’m cautious. “What do you know?”
“I know about the drunk driving, about Emma dying. I saw the news. I even know about your mom.”
My mind is scrambling to figure out where she’s going with this. It’s public record, although not many would be interested enough to check it out. My eyebrows pull together and I pin her with a stare.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him. I didn’t share your secret.”
I still wonder if she knows the real secret. So few do, “Tell him what?”
“Don’t worry Sterling,” she stresses. “I didn’t tell him anything. There’s something you should know though.”
“What?” My mind is frantic, my eyes probing. I struggle to see what she really knows, but she’s playing coy. I grapple with the impulse to wrap my hands around her throat and shake the words out. “What do you know?” I hiss.
“He’s a drunk driver.”
My world goes glacial, the drone in my ears drowning out the rest of her words. Of all the things she might have said, this came at me like a freight train bearing down on a blind guy. I hear the hum of car tires on the road next to the parking lot. A seagull squeals as it reels above. The hiss of air released from the bus as it stops to offload passengers is there too, but I can’t hear her words. Her lips move, but there’s no sound as if I’m surrounded by a wall. Far-off noises ring loud in my ears while anything close bounces off the barrier, not quite reaching me.
“What?” I feel like an idiot, a mynah bird squawking and “what” is the only word I know.
“He told me himself on the drive.”
“He told you he drinks and drives?” Thoughts of that first party when he drove everyone home drifted back. He’d said he doesn’t drink and drive. It was the first chink in my armor.
“I don’t think he does anymore, but he did, got in trouble, ruined his relationship with his parents.”
I’m numb. Right when I thought I might want to chase that flash of light, that glimpse of peace, that shimmer of happiness, life springs the trap and I’m stuck again, damn it!
“He never told me,” I whisper.
“I didn’t think so, but like I said, I know who you are and I thought you needed to know.”
Too wrapped up in my own thoughts, my own reactions, I didn’t see the malice glimmering in her eyes, the glee she took in revealing Boston’s secret, until it was much too late.
A loud whack from the front of the car startles both of us as. I jerked, turning with sharp panic riding me to see Boston moving away from the front of the car. My heartbeat calms and my eyes slide back to Julie to find she’s studying me.
“I thought you should know.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re good to go Julie.” Boston drops the red rag into the bin, sliding the jug of washer fluid back into place. “You sure I can’t give you any money for gas?”
“I’m sure.” She smiles tilting her head, interest oozing from every pore. “You’re a good travel companion. I’ll let you know next time I go in case you’d like to ride along again.”
“I don’t think so. Well, maybe.” His head shook side to side and he sounded vague and uncertain. “I’ll let you know.”
Boston grabbed his duffel with one hand, slinging it over his shoulder and across his body while wrapping the other arm around me as we headed toward my car.
“I missed you.”
“Umm hmm.”
“Hungry?”
“No. I’m tired Boston. I should get some sleep.”
I turned to study his expression, wondering if he knew what Julie had said. When our eyes met, his were hooded, want and need lurking. “Want me to come back to your place?”
I unlock the passenger door, now knowing to avoid his gaze.
“No. I’m in desperate need of sleep.”
“Couldn’t sleep while I was away?”
“Something like that.” I didn’t want to tell him I’d tossed and turned with the thought that I might be in love spiraling through my mind like those dancers that spin with colorful skirts flaring as their revolutions continue in a journey without destination. No good can come of it now.
Boston watches me as I move around to the driver’s door. He doesn’t bend into the car until I slide into my seat.
“I wish you could have been there,” he says, leaning across the console to kiss me.
I turn my face away, ducking my head. His lips land on my temple and I endure, putting the car in gear.
As I pull away from the curb I wonder, how I could let this happen. How did I go from avoiding all relationships, knowing that nothing lasts forever, to falling for the first guy to catch my eye? My heart wants him. I’m alone and he’s a kindred spirit. I didn’t realize it earlier, but it’s true. He’s alone too. That’s why I let him in. My heart convinced me to lower my defenses, convinced me to make room for him and I did, only to find he’s not worthy, just like the others. I want to talk about this now while I watch the road so I don’t have to look him in the eye, but I’m weak and quiet, mulling what I’m going to say.
I’m not able to concentrate on anything, Julie’s words play over and over in my head like a bad song set to repeat. I know she did it on purpose. I also know it’s better I find out now than find out later. While her motives were devious, she did me a favor. All too soon I’m at Boston’s dorm. I put the car in park, but I don’t turn it off. His hand on my arm arrests any further movement. Darkness spreads through me like the night stretched ahead of us. I’d planned to tell him about Emma eventually, but now he’s gone and ruined everything, or maybe Julie has, but he’s the one who chose to drink and drive and there’s nothing I can do about that. Drunk driving is a deal breaker and I suppose it’s better that I find out now.
“Sterling?”
His hand circles the back of my neck, fingertips teasing my jaw. I look back, his gaze pierces mine. My breath dries up when he pulls me as close as can be expected with a console between us.
“I thought we were good when I left. What happened?” He’s still; maybe confused, as if memorizing this moment to carry with him forever, somehow knowing something monstrous is wrong.
Boston rests his forehead against mine. The in
timacy of the small gesture shocks me. I want to keep him at bay and contact makes it almost impossible.
“Are you angry with me?”
I want to say yes, but as tears threaten, I know hurt is the real cause. “No,” I respond, hiding my eyes.
“Is it Julie?”
“Yeah. No.”
Now he doesn’t respond. I peek, looking sideways at him, dying a little inside at the irritation settling over him like a crystalline frost with razor sharp edges. I should have listened to myself that day he scared me on the quad.
I shake my head in the negative, resigned. “This isn’t going to work. We should have never gotten involved.”
Boston radiates tension. I can feel it coming off him in waves.
“Wait … hold on.” He’s facing me now, pulling on my arm. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. We have plenty of time to figure this out. I’m tired. You’re tired. My father’s not doing well and I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“I’m sorry Boston. I should have been more considerate. How is your father?”
“He had open heart surgery, but they can’t get him off the ventilator. Either his heart’s not strong enough or there’s something wrong with his lungs.”
Now I really feel like an ass, thinking about only myself. “I don’t know what to say.” I’m at a loss. All of a sudden, cutting him loose isn’t quite as important as protecting him.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not sure I even care. Let’s both get some sleep and then we can talk about this tomorrow with clear heads.”
I don’t want to wait. I need to talk to you now.
“Fine. It wasn’t Halloween was it?” The words come through his teeth. “It’s something else.”
I panic. Then I calm. He doesn’t know about Emma. We never got that far. “You’re right. It’s not Halloween. It’s something else.” I feel like I’m getting smaller as the seconds tick by, diminishing in record time, decaying and becoming ugly.
“Tell me Sterling. What’s wrong?”
I have to remind myself, convince myself maybe, that this isn’t an excuse. I’ve lived with the fallout of drinking and drunk driving. I know what lies ahead. I’ve heard that bit about changing, that next time it’ll be different, but I know better. People don’t change. They just continue to disappoint.