Fall Into Forever

by Beth Hyland

  “Hell,” says a fat guy. “I didn’t know one of your kids was this old.”

  A sour pit forms in my stomach. So I do have half-siblings out there somewhere.

  “I’m not planning to fuck your girls, so chill the fuck out, okay?” Angus scratches his upper leg. He’s wearing a huge skull ring on one finger and a huge sideways cross on another.

  “You don’t exactly have the track record to back up that statement.”

  Angus exhales loudly, then he smiles at someone behind me. I turn to see Ivy and her friends. It literally makes my blood boil as I imagine every sick thought running through his head.

  “Jon, are you okay?” Ivy tries to come closer, but a security guard steps in front of her.

  “You the girlfriend?” Angus asks, letting his gaze roam up and down her body.

  I try to jerk away from the guys holding me, but they’re too strong. My fist is itching to connect with Angus’s face again. Multiple times, if possible.

  “I don’t know why you’re so upset,” he continues. “What have I ever done to you?”

  Is he fucking serious? A million possible responses are clogging my brain right now.

  “I know I haven’t been the best father, but that doesn’t give you the right to come backstage and get violent.”

  A hush goes through the small crowd around us as his words sink in. Yes, I am Angus Oliver’s son. One of the most famous rockstars on the planet is my father.

  About fifteen to twenty people are watching us, and a few of them have their camera phones out. Fuck. It’ll only be a matter of time before all of PSU hears this. I’ve tried so hard to keep that fact to myself. I don’t want to be known as Angus Oliver’s son. I want to be known for being me.

  That’s when I notice that everyone except Tina is wearing matching shirts. Matching O-Twist shirts. Including Ivy. Anger doesn’t begin to describe what it feels like to see my father’s face on my girlfriend’s chest. I want to rip it off of her and burn it.

  “Angus Oliver is your dad?” Sara asks, her eyes wide. “Oh my God. I want both of your autographs on my shirt. Father and son. It’ll totally be a collector’s item.” Angus produces a black Sharpie from somewhere—probably from Phil’s pocket—and motions her over. She pulls the hem of the shirt down, making the fabric go tight across her chest.

  “Sign right here,” she says. “Right above my heart.”

  Angus gives her an I-want-to-get-into-your-pants smile as he signs it.

  Then she looks at me.

  I shake my head slowly. Don’t even fucking try.

  I hear her say to someone, “That’s okay. I’ll just get his autograph back at PSU. He’s my tutor.”

  “How’s your mom doing?” Angus asks, putting the cap back on the pen and handing it to Phil. “Still cutting hair?”

  I grind my teeth at his conversational tone. “For your information, she died several years ago. Cancer. She tried to get in touch with you to let you know what was going on, but she never heard back. Imagine that.” Despite my protests, she wanted to see if I could go live with him. To make sure I was taken care of after she was gone.

  Angus gets a hurt look on his face. “She died? Wow. That’s too bad. I always liked her.”

  Liked? He liked her? An uncontrollable rush of anger hits me like a truck, and I lunge at him again. “You bastard. You fucking ruined her life.”

  The two guys jerk my arms back harder this time, taking me to the ground.

  “Me?” Angus raises an eyebrow. “We had a good time. She enjoyed herself. What you need to do,” he says, pointing a finger at me, “is take a long, hard look in the mirror. If her life was fucked up, it’s because of you.”

  chapter twenty-four

  Loving someone is giving them the power to break your heart

  but trusting them not to.

  ~ Julianne Moore

  Ivy

  Numb.

  Hollow.

  Empty.

  I’m in bed, my body curled around my stuffed animal.

  Yesterday, after I waited in front of the security trailer for over an hour, Jon finally emerged. I rushed to him, but he deflected my advances and strode in the direction of the campsite.

  Okay, he was angry. Didn’t need my gushing sympathy. I totally got that.

  I fell in step beside him, tucking my hands in my pockets. “I’m really sorry about what happened.”

  He mumbled something under his breath that I didn’t catch.

  “Your dad was—”

  “I’m leaving. Driving Tina home.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Tina? What did she have to do with this?

  “You’re...leaving? Um…okay.” I was confused, but I’d go along with it considering everything that just happened. Security probably kicked him out of not just the venue but the campground too. “I’ll get my stuff together.”

  “Without you.”

  It was like he’d punched me in the stomach, and I suddenly couldn’t breathe. He was upset—I got that—but with me? “I…don’t understand. Why don’t you want to go back together?”

  “I need to be alone.”

  Then how did driving home with Tina equal being alone?

  “Jon, if it’s about your dad, I—”

  He stopped abruptly, his face contorted with emotion. “It was a mistake, okay? A big fucking mistake. All of this.” He made a swirly movement with his finger. “We’re too different for this ever to have worked out anyway.” Then he turned on his heel and stormed away.

  I stood there, in the middle of the gravel road, trying not to cry. Jon, the man I loved, had just broken up with me. And I didn’t know why.

  At the White House campsite, people were standing around drinking beer and roasting hot dogs. Jon was talking to James, then he grabbed his duffel, shoved it into Tina’s blue pickup and drove away. Without a backward glance.

  I was numb, just going through the motions, when James helped me pack up the tent. Dani and Kelly tried to talk me into staying, but I didn’t want to if Jon wasn’t here. I took a migraine pill to stave off the inevitable and drove the four hours home. By myself. In a complete and total daze.

  Laying on my bed now, it feels as if a big part of me has withered and died. I’m the shell of the person I was yesterday—the person I had become.

  My phone vibrates now. I sit up and grab it, hoping that it’s Jon. Maybe he just needed some time and he’s calling to apologize.

  But it’s Cassidy, not Jon.

  I sink back on the bed and take the call. She’s extending her Memorial Day holiday because she’s only got one class on Tuesday and it’s no big deal to skip it.

  “I still can’t believe that Jon’s dad is really Angus Oliver,” she says. “I mentioned it to my mom and she was so excited. She and my stepdad have some of his CDs.”

  Yeah, so does my dad, but I don’t tell her that. It doesn’t feel right to mention anything remotely positive relating to Jon’s asshole father.

  “So how did you hear about his dad?” I ask her.

  “It’s everywhere online, Ivy. Everyone knows.”

  That shouldn’t surprise me, but I cringe anyway.

  After we hang up, I trudge down to the laundry room to put in a load of clothes from the weekend. Even though they caught Maddy’s attacker a while ago, I still hate coming down here, so I make Bryce my RA come with me.

  “How was the concert?” he asks.

  “Okay, I guess,” I answer flatly.

  “So you’ve been dating a celebrity and didn’t even know it. Do you feel famous all of a sudden?”

  Oh my God. First Cassidy, now this? “Jesus, Bryce. He’s not his dad.” I have a feeling this is just the beginning.

  I’m guessing this is why Jon’s been keeping that fact a secret from everyone. He might enjoy attention from people, but not because of who his father is.

  When I get back to my room, I put on my headphones and grab my knitting. I should be studying. Finals are coming up, but I ca
n’t concentrate worth shit right now.

  The tab with the Butterfly Lovers ballet is open on my screen, so I press Play and watch it for the hundredth time. I’m struck with the realization that trust plays a key role in the performance. The dancers need to rely on each other implicitly, with no hesitation or worry, in order to make it all come together.

  I set down my knitting and rub the ink work on the back of my neck.

  Trust. It’s the core of everything.

  chapter twenty-five

  Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.

  ~ Victor Hugo

  Jon

  “Why’d you fucking leave her, asshole?” James glares at me. “I still can’t believe what a dickhead move that was.” He’s never been one to mince words.

  It’s been a week and I haven’t seen Ivy or called her. She’s left me a couple of voicemail messages, but I haven’t listened to them. “I told you. They kicked me out. I had to leave.”

  “Without Ivy?”

  I shrug, pretending I don’t care. “There were still more bands left to play that night. I didn’t want her to miss them.”

  “She told me she’d have gladly left with you.”

  “You talked to her?”

  “Yeah, I helped her take the tent down, remember? You need to call her. Apologize for being such a douche.”

  “She and her friends were going apeshit over my father. I couldn’t take it, so I had to get away.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  I don’t want to get into it with James, considering that he just lost his own dad. Besides, people are already acting different around me. Like I’ve suddenly changed. I got a message from my station manager, saying they want me to host an O-Twist show this week. And the reporter who interviewed me before the zombie race has been calling my cell.

  “I don’t want my cred to go up because of who my dad is.”

  “And you think Ivy cares? She thinks the dude’s an asshole.”

  I swallow hard. “And what about everyone else?” I think back to my first foster family, who bent over backward after learning who my father was. When they found out I’d never received any money from him, let alone met him, they quickly changed how they treated me, figuring there must be a reason for my father’s rejection.

  “Dude, don’t look at me,” James says, putting up his hands. “Do you think I care? I grew up in LA and my father was in the film industry. Half the kids at my high school had famous mothers or fathers. I could seriously give a shit who your dad is.”

  I run a hand through my hair.

  “Did you know that after security took you away, Ivy stayed backstage and gave your dad a piece of her mind? I guess she raked him over the coals. Cussed him up one side and down the other. I’d have paid some serious cash to see that.”

  “She tell you that?” I ask, unimpressed.

  “No, Sara did. We…uh…hooked up the last night. She said Ivy was like a goddamn pit bull. I don’t know if this part is true or not—I mean, it’s Sara talking here—but she said that Ivy actually made your father cry.”

  “She what?” My head jerks up.

  James nods. “She totally went to bat for you, bro, so you need to pull your goddamned head out of your ass.”

  What could Ivy have said to my father to make him cry? Then I recall our conversation in the kitchen after the attack in her dorm when she said it was my father’s loss not to know me.

  James takes a sip of the protein smoothie he just made and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I know this is going to sound all sappy and shit, but you guys are good together. Seriously, dude. You need to make things right with her before it really sinks in what an asshole you were and it’s too late. Girls like Ivy come around once in a lifetime.”

  * * *

  Ivy

  I’m walking back from my car where I’d left one of my textbooks, when my phone chimes. It’s a text from Jon. He wants to talk.

  I say a little prayer. Please let it be good.

  Stepping off to the side to let a group of students pass me on the sidewalk, I text him back. When?

  It takes, like, a second for him to reply. ASAP.

  How about now? Do you want to call me?

  I’m coming over. U home?

  I glance over at the dorm. I will be in a minute.

  K. See u in 5.

  I blow out a long breath to calm my erratic heartbeat.

  Does he want to talk about why he left?

  I can’t tell if he’s still angry. I hope this means he’s not. I really miss him. Then I think about how he rode back with Tina. He’s not going to tell me that he’s breaking things off with me and getting back together with her, is he?

  I read through his texts again, trying to decipher what he’s thinking, so my head is down, when another group of students passes.

  “Keep going without me,” says a male voice to my right. “There’s someone I want to talk to. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

  That voice. It’s…familiar. Too familiar. I raise my head, look over, and my blood runs cold.

  There, just a few feet away from me, is Aaron Marquette, Chase’s younger brother, the guy who’s been making my life a living hell.

  “Hello, Ivy.”

  How is this even happening?

  “Aaron.” I can barely hear my voice over the roaring in my ears. It’s tentative, like a question. As if I’m not sure it’s really him.

  He laughs. “Surprised?”

  I take a step backward, but there’s nowhere to run. No White House bathroom to hide in. He’s already seen me.

  Security. Call campus security. Oh God, what the hell was the officer’s name, anyway?

  I don’t want to talk to Aaron or hear anything he has to say. His taunts. His lies. It’s bad enough reading the stuff online.

  My conversations with Dr. Mehta echo in my head. There could be an element of truth to some of what Aaron is saying, which causes me to make assumptions that he’s right about all of it.

  Logically, I know this, but what if he is right? What if I did kill Chase? What if I did do it on purpose?

  “What are you doing here,” I ask, trying to make my voice sound stronger than I feel. The back of my neck aches and my temples start to pound.

  He rubs his thick beard as his gaze rakes over me, assessing every inch and making me feel dirty. “They want me to play baseball here, so I’m practicing with the team. Won’t that be great?” His smile is cold.

  So it is true. My perfect little world at the school I love is coming to an end. I can’t possibly stay if Aaron’s here, too.

  “You’re looking good,” he continues, nodding almost to himself.

  I want to say something that cuts him to the bone, something witty and clever, but my brain pretty much isn’t working right now. “What do you want, Aaron?”

  “Life without my big brother has worked out well for you. I can see you’re all broken up about losing the love of your life.”

  My whole body tenses up. “Chase was never the love of my life. I know a lot of people thought he was, but he wasn’t.”

  He takes a menacing step toward me. “Well, you’ve obviously moved on, haven’t you? What a fucking bitch. I don’t know what my brother ever saw in you.”

  Ignoring the name-calling, I stand my ground. “So why are you here then, if you’re not getting on with your life?”

  He’s either surprised by my reaction or I struck a nerve, because he hesitates for a half-second before replying. “I’m here because that’s what Chase would’ve wanted. He always dreamed of playing professional ball, so he’d have been excited for me. This is my chance, Ivy. I’m doing it for him.”

  I’m suddenly more pissed off than I am afraid. So it’s okay to move on if you’re doing it for him? That’s such bullshit. I’m done having Chase’s memory haunt me. I want to live my life for me. No one else. And I’m sick to death of being scared.

  “He loved yo
u, Ivy. All he wanted was to get married and start a family with you. Or the other way around, whichever happened first.”

  I open my mouth to say something, but stop. The other way around? Start a family and then get married? Why does that sound familiar?

  My head is really pounding now.

  “But no,” he continues. “You had to break up with him. He was crushed, Ivy. He didn’t know if he could live without you.”

  Give me a break. “Couples split up every day, Aaron. It’s called dating. If he couldn’t handle it, that was his problem, not mine.”

  He narrows his eyes as he assesses me. I get the sense that he wasn’t expecting me to argue with him. “You like wearing the pants in a relationship, don’t you? Chase tried to teach you that life doesn’t work that way, but you wouldn’t listen. Does your new boyfriend let you talk to him like that? Does he enjoy being pussy-whipped?”

  I don’t dignify his bullshit questions with an answer.

  As I look at him and listen to his words, it becomes clear to me that I’ve been giving Aaron way too much power. Maybe my mom was right on some level. It’s easy to read words on a screen and think that there’s an intelligent human being on the other end making the claims. You think, what’s wrong with me? What did I do? When the real question should be, what’s wrong with him?

  It’s easy to see the messenger for who he really is. A misogynistic, egotistical bully, just like his brother.

  I may not be able to make Aaron go away online, but my attitude about the power he has over me has changed. Unlike back home, I have people here who support and care about me. People who believe me. People who will protect me. I will not let him intimidate me again.

  “Chase thought that if you got pregnant,” Aaron says, “you’d settle down.”

  Pain spears through my temples, but I try to ignore it. “As in barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen, catering to his every desire?”

  Aaron smiles. “Yeah. Something like that.”

  I can’t take it any more and laugh. Right in his face. “Last time I checked, it’s the twenty-first century, dickwad, not the fifties.”

  In a flash, he grabs me by the wrist. “Think that’s funny?” I try to jerk away, but he holds on tight. “You know what would’ve been goddamn funny is if Chase’s plan had worked.”