Holding On

by Allie Everhart

  "He doesn't?"

  "Shit." I cringe. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Don't tell anyone I said that."

  "So what's he want to do?"

  "I don't know. I don't think he does either, which is why he feels lost. I think talking to you might help."

  "I doubt it. And honestly right now I'm so pissed at him for taking advantage of you that I'd probably punch him if I saw him."

  Throwing my hands up, I say, "For the last time, he did not take advantage of me. We're dating. That's what dating people do."

  "Don't talk about it." He gets up and returns to the stove. "I don't even want to think about that."

  It dawns on me that this is the first time Mike's seen me date someone. He was deployed overseas when I started dating in high school, and since he's been back, I haven't had a boyfriend until now. So it makes sense Mike's reacting this way. It's just annoying because he makes me feel like a kid.

  Wanting to get off this topic, I walk over to the stove where he's stirring something in a pot.

  "What are you making?" I ask.

  "Tacos. I'm making the meat and Heather's doing the rest. She volunteered to make the meat too but I told her I'd do it. It's one of the few things I can cook."

  I smile. "You're going out with Heather again?"

  "We're not going out. We're staying in. We were going to have dinner here but that's when I thought you weren't coming home. I'll text her and tell her I'm going down to her place."

  "Are you saying you don't want me around?" I tease. "What exactly are you two going to do?"

  "Have dinner. Then watch a movie."

  "Along with a few other things." I hop up on the counter next to the stove. "Are you spending the night there?"

  "That's up to her."

  "So you can spend the night with someone, but I can't."

  He looks at me. "I'm 26. You're 21."

  "Are you saying I'm immature?"

  "No, but Ethan is, and like I said, you don't need that kind of drama in your life."

  "He's not immature, and the drama will go away once he figures out his future."

  "Which you won't be a part of."

  "I don't have to be. I'm not looking to marry the guy. We're just...hanging out."

  Mike gives me a disapproving look, then shakes his head as he stirs the taco meat. "Are you going back to his place later?"

  "No. I'm staying here. I have stuff to do." I'm not telling Mike about Ethan kicking me out. Doing so would make Mike think even less of him.

  "You're dating him and yet you're not hanging out with him on a Saturday night?"

  "I told you, I have stuff to do."

  "Did he tell you to leave?"

  Mike is always so damn perceptive. Sometimes I swear he's a mindreader. Maybe they teach you that in the military.

  "He didn't tell me to leave. I left on my own. Now tell me about Heather."

  "She's awesome." He gets a big grin on his face. "I know we just started dating but I really feel like there might be something there."

  "So this might get serious?"

  He shrugs. "Maybe. It's too soon to tell. But we have a lot in common and we get along great so there's potential for a serious relationship."

  "Does she want that?"

  "I don't know. We haven't talked about it."

  "Do you want that?" I'm hoping he'll say he does. It's obvious he really likes this girl so the only thing holding him back is whatever love he still has for Tricia.

  "With the right girl, yeah, I do want that. I'm just not sure I'm ready for it yet. For now, I just like spending time with Heather. She has so much compassion for people. She's so much different than...." His voice trails off before he says Tricia's name. He's trying not to talk about her anymore. But he's right. She had no compassion for people. She was all about herself and her own needs.

  Mike shuts the stove off. "I'm going to head down there." He scoops the taco meat into a bowl. "You want to join us?"

  I laugh. "On your date? No thanks."

  "I'm only inviting you for dinner." He smiles at me. "After that you need to get lost."

  I hop off the counter. "I'd rather stay here than watch you two lovebirds make out."

  "So what exactly is this stuff you need to get done?"

  "Clean my room. Vacuum. Maybe do some laundry."

  "You'd rather do laundry on a Saturday night than be with your boyfriend?" He gives me a suspicious look. "Are you sure something didn't happen?"

  "Nothing happened. I just want some time alone to catch up on a few things."

  He finally stops badgering me, probably because he's in a hurry to see Heather. He covers the meat with plastic wrap and heads to the door. "See ya later. If you need anything you know where to find me."

  "Are you spending the night or not?"

  He grins. "We'll see how it goes."

  After he's gone, I check my phone but don't see any messages. I wonder what Ethan's doing. After the way he treated me, I shouldn't care, and yet I do. But I resist calling him. If he wants to see me or talk to me, he'll have to be the one to reach out.

  ***

  Around eight, I take a long shower, then toss on sweats and a t-shirt, preparing for a night of watching TV and eating junk food on the couch.

  Just as I'm sitting down, the doorbell rings. I answer it and find Ethan standing there on his crutches, wearing faded jeans and a white t-shirt, his hair mussed up like he just ran his hands through it. He's annoyingly hot. The kind of hot that causes girls to make bad decisions.

  "Hey." He glances down, then back up.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "I wanted to see you."

  "Why? You told me to leave, remember?"

  "Yeah. About that. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

  "No. You shouldn't have."

  "It was just that I didn't expect the coach to show up and I was..." He takes a breath. "Never mind." He looks at me. "I was being an ass. I'm sorry."

  At least he seems sincere. In the past I've dated guys who say they're sorry but don't mean it.

  "You want to come in?" I hold the door open and step aside.

  "Is your brother here?" he asks as he walks into the apartment.

  "No. He's on a date with the girl downstairs."

  "The one he met when the fire alarms went off?"

  "Yeah. Heather. I only met her one time but she seemed nice." I watch as he stops and adjusts his crutches under his arms. "How'd you get here?"

  "I took a cab."

  "You could've called me."

  "I didn't think you'd come pick me up."

  "You're right. I probably wouldn't have."

  He steps closer to me. "Will you forgive me?"

  "Maybe." I turn my head to the side. "It depends."

  "On what?" His hand goes under my chin, turning my face back to his.

  I look into those deep brown eyes and feel myself falling under his spell. I swear that's what it is. Why else would I be so desperate to kiss him? He told me to leave. I should be mad at him.

  He lowers his lips to mine and softly kisses me. I kiss him back, feeling like I'm about to make all kinds of bad decisions. I'm usually better able to resist a guy's charm but I can't seem to do it with Ethan.

  "You want to sit down?" I ask, forcing myself to back away before the kiss turns into something more.

  "Sure." He follows me to the couch.

  I pick up the remote. "I was just getting ready to watch TV. I don't know what's on."

  He's quiet as I flip through the channels. I stop when I find a movie. We watch for a few minutes, not saying anything.

  "Is that you?" He points to a photo on the wall next to the TV. It's a picture of my dad, Mike, and me. It was taken at Mike's high school graduation and is one of the few photos we have of the three of us together. I looked a lot different back then. My hair was short and I'd dyed it blond. My friend dyed it for me and left the color on too long. The chemicals completely fried my hair so I had to cu
t it short. That was my last attempt at ever trying to color my own hair.

  "Yeah, that's me with Mike and my dad."

  Ethan leans forward to get a closer look. "It's strange seeing you with blond hair."

  "It wasn't supposed to be that blond. My friend forgot to set the timer for the color and she left it on too long."

  He sits back and smiles. "You wanted to be a blond?"

  I kiddingly shove his arm. "Don't make fun of me. It was a phase I was going through."

  "Was it for a guy?"

  "Yes," I mutter, ashamed to admit that.

  "Did you go out with him?"

  "No. He wasn't interested. He was on the football team and only dated cheerleaders."

  "And you weren't a cheerleader," he confirms.

  "I tried out but didn't make it. I'm not coordinated enough and I couldn't remember the routines they taught us."

  "If he only dated cheerleaders then why'd you try so hard to get his attention?"

  "Because that's what girls do at that age. We do stupid things to get a guy's attention."

  "I would've dated you."

  I let out a laugh. "Yeah, right." I motion to the photo. "Did you see how skinny I was? I didn't even have boobs back then."

  He glances at the picture. "You were still cute. I totally would've dated you."

  "I don't believe you. I bet you were just like Lance. That's his name. The guy I wanted to date. I bet you only dated cheerleaders."

  "I did, but it's not like it was intentional. It was just that they were always around, going to the games, going to football parties, so it made sense that we'd hook up."

  By 'hook up' I'm sure he's referring to sex and not just dating. With his good looks, money, and talent on the football field, he can get sex whenever he wants. He has girls lining up to give it to him.

  So what does that mean for me? Am I just another girl he'll have sex with, then forget about? And if so, am I okay with that? Given the feelings I'm starting to have for Ethan, I don't know if I am.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ethan

  "Is that still true?" Becca asks.

  "What?"

  "That you only date cheerleaders because they're always around?"

  I take her hand and thread it with mine. "Obviously not, because I'm dating you."

  She looks down at our joined hands but doesn't respond to my comment.

  "We're still dating, right?" I ask.

  She looks up. "I don't know. I mean, I like you and I like hanging out with you but I don't like it when you treat me like you did earlier. That thing with the coach wasn't my fault and I'm not going to be blamed for it. I get that you have issues with your coach but I'm not letting you take your anger out on me."

  "I know, and I'm sorry I did that."

  "And I don't like it when you're calm one minute and blow up the next. If that's just who you are, then fine, but I don't want to be involved with someone like that."

  "I'm not." I rub her hand and look in her eyes. "I'm not like that, or at least I wasn't before."

  "Before the accident?"

  "Yeah." I look down. "Ever since it happened, I haven't been myself. I'm trying to get back to being the person I was before, but I'm not there yet."

  "Ethan, I know I've said this before, but I think it would help if you talked to someone."

  "I don't need to. I told you, I don't like talking about it, especially with some fuckin' counselor who will try to psychoanalyze me. Besides, it isn't about the accident."

  That's a lie, but I don't want to admit how I still struggle with what happened. The nightmares. The memories. I don't need to share that shit with Becca or anyone else. I know that'll all go away eventually. I just need more time.

  "If it's not the accident making you feel this way, then what is it?"

  I shrug. "Being stuck in that house. Still having my leg in a cast. Not being able to train like I used to. I'm tired of it. This isn't me." I hear my angry tone and take a breath to calm down. "Sorry. The whole thing just pisses me off."

  "What if it wasn't a counselor?"

  I look at her. "What do you mean?"

  "What if you talked to someone who might know what you're going through?"

  "Like who?"

  "My brother. He was in the military. I haven't told you much about him yet but—"

  She's interrupted by a knock on the door.

  "It's probably my neighbor. I have her spare key because she always loses hers."

  Becca heads to the door while I remain on the couch, watching TV.

  "Mom," I hear Becca say.

  Turning back to the door I see Becca facing an older woman with bright blond hair. She's a little shorter than Becca, and thin, her tan, skinny legs popping out of a pair of white shorts. She looks like a smoker, with deep lines around her mouth, and sagging skin.

  "What are you doing here?" Becca sounds shocked and a little angry.

  "I came to see you and Mike." She puts her arms around Becca, whose body becomes stiff as a board as her mom hugs her. "Didn't Mike tell you I was coming?"

  Becca backs away. "He said you called but not that you were coming here. You drove all the way from Dallas?"

  She laughs. "Dallas? I don't live in Dallas. I live in Chicago now. Mike didn't mention that?"

  "No." Becca grips the door handle. "Mom, you can't stay. I have company."

  She looks past Becca and sees me on the couch. "Is that your boyfriend?"

  "You need to go," Becca says. "Mike's not here. I'll tell him you stopped by."

  She walks around Becca and over to me, a big smile on her face. "I'm Sherry, Becca's mom."

  I reach up and shake her hand. "Hey. I'm Ethan. Nice to meet you."

  I know I just met her but I already don't like this woman. She reminds me of my mom's fake friends in L.A.

  "Have you two been dating long?"

  Becca races up beside her mom. "You should come back tomorrow, when Mike's here. Now isn't a good time."

  "It's as good a time as any," she says, keeping her eyes on me. "And besides, you two don't look all that busy." She stares at me and taps her lip with her finger. "You look familiar. Have we met before?"

  "I don't think so."

  "I swear I've seen you before. Are you on TV?"

  I glance at Becca. "I've been on the sports channels. I play football."

  "Yes!" She points at me. "That's where I saw you. Jim watches all those sports channels and I remember seeing you on there."

  "Who's Jim?" Becca asks.

  "My boyfriend." She waves her hand around. "Significant other. Jim doesn't like it when I call him my boyfriend. Says it's juvenile."

  "How long have you dated him?"

  "About a year. He's in finance. Does well for himself." She dangles her hand in front of Becca, showing off a diamond bracelet. "He gave me this last week. Isn't it pretty?"

  "Yeah, it's great." Becca rolls her eyes but her mom doesn't notice, her attention back on me.

  "So why are you always in the news?" she asks. "Are you one of those pro athletes?"

  "No. I'm still in college. I play football for Laytham."

  "But you're going to be a star someday?" She grins and it reminds me of the grin my dad gets when he meets an up-and-coming sports star and knows he's about to make a ton of money off some poor guy who has no idea he's about to be taken advantage of by my dad.

  "Probably not," I say, motioning to my leg. "I got injured back in May."

  "I'm sure you'll recover. Athletes get hurt all the time."

  "Mom," Becca urges. "Just come back tomorrow. Ethan just got here and—"

  "She's just like me." Sherry puts her arm around Becca. "She seeks out a man who has potential. Her father never had any, potential that is. He was a nice enough man but he had no ambition. No drive."

  Becca shoves away from her mom. "Don't talk about Dad."

  "Oh, honey, don't be so sensitive. You're a grown woman now. It's time you see your father for who he was. J
ust a simple man going nowhere in life."

  "Get out." Becca points to the door.

  "Honey, you're overreacting. It was just a comment. Now where's Mike? You never said."

  "He's with his girlfriend. He won't be back until late."

  "That's fine. I can wait." She smiles at Becca, knowing she's driving her crazy. This woman is very manipulative. I can't stand people who manipulate others for their own sick pleasure. My dad is one of those people.

  "Actually, we were just leaving," I say, grabbing my crutches and pushing up from the couch.

  "Where are you going?" Sherry asks.

  I look at Becca. "My friend's having a party. I told him we'd stop by."

  "And you have to go right now?"

  "I told him Becca and I would be there in a few minutes."

  "Oh." She frowns. "What a shame."

  "We should really get going," Becca says.

  "Then I guess I'll stop by tomorrow," Sherry says. "Tell Mike to be here. I want to see him."

  "I will." Becca walks her mom to the door.

  "Bye, honey." Her mom gives her a hug. "See you tomorrow."

  She leaves and Becca closes the door, then leans back against it. "What is she doing here?"

  I walk over to Becca. "When's the last time you saw her?"

  "Five years ago."

  "You haven't seen your mom in five years?"

  "I've talked to her on the phone but it's been five years since I've seen her. She was in town for something so she took us to dinner and that was it. It was the only time I saw her since she left. Mike went to see her a few times but I refused. She made it clear she didn't want us so I wasn't going to go visit her. I thought she might come to my dad's funeral but she didn't."

  "And then she just shows up here out of the blue? That's odd."

  "Not if you knew my mom. I'm guessing she wants something."

  "Like money?"

  "No. She knows Mike and I don't have any money, and I'm sure this guy she's dating buys her whatever she wants. She wouldn't date him if he didn't."

  "Then why do you think she's here?"

  "She's probably just feeling guilty. Whenever she feels guilty for leaving she calls us to relieve her guilt. Maybe she's feeling extra guilty this year so she showed up in person instead of calling."