Fearless King

by Hughes, Maya

  6

  Liv

  “You’ve got to try out for the company. How can you not? The only things you ever talk about are dancing and hockey, and I think the ship has probably sailed on your pro hockey career.” Marisa ran the brush across her nail before dipping it back into the bottle of silver polish.

  “I don’t want to go pro with dancing. I like teaching. If I was in the company, I couldn’t teach anywhere near as many classes and I’d have to tour. Sometimes they’re gone for months at a time.” I shook the glittery bottle. Being in one place and building a home had way more appeal to me than roaming the country, dancing in front of strangers every night. Working with my students and seeing them grow was what made what I did worth it.

  “At least try. Even if you don’t want to join, you should give it a shot. Then if there’s ever a doubt in your mind, you’ll know, ‘Nah, I totally could have danced my ass off across the country.’” She hopped up and shimmied while walking on her heels with her wet toes in the air.

  “I’ll think about it. How’s calc tutoring going?”

  She let out a cross between a scream and a groan. “They’re driving me to drink.” The clink of ice against glass sounded from the kitchen. “They think me being their tutor means I’m supposed to do the work for them. It makes me want to strangle someone.”

  “The people you’re tutoring aren’t putting in the effort?”

  “An effort in getting into my pants, yes. LJ and his roommates can be a pain sometimes, but some of those other football players on his team are straight-up assholes. I’m putting a ban on them for my tutoring schedule next semester. Someone else can deal with their bullshit.”

  “Tell LJ—he’ll straighten them out.”

  She laughed and plunked down a glass of sangria in front of me. “He’s got enough to deal with on the team. I’m not adding anything else to his plate.” She stared down into her glass, swirling the ice around in the pink mix.

  Careful of my nails, I picked it up and took a sip—so sweet and delicious. “What’s going on with the team?”

  Her gaze snapped to mine like she’d forgotten I was there. “It’s nothing.” She waved her hand in the air. “There’s one guy, Kevin—I swear I’ll stab him with a mechanical pencil the next time I see him.”

  “You’re tutoring him?”

  She took a sip and nodded. “He keeps asking me out. At first it was flattering, but now it’s just creepy. His breath always smells like cat food. Anyway, enough about me. How’d the dinner go?” She deftly changed the subject.

  “Ford showed up, surprised the hell out of me. We had to sit next to each other! It was insanely awkward.”

  “That sucks. Do you think things will ever not be weird?”

  “No.” I dragged my hands over my face. “I went on a couple dates with his little brother. One kiss was as far as it went, but there’s nowhere good that can go.” A small part of me had wanted my kiss with Grant to be a toe-curling, steal-my-breath-away kind of thing, the same kind I’d had with Ford. Maybe deep down I’d thought that would fix things. Ford could have gone his own way and I’d finally have found someone I was really into, who didn’t run the other way the second I stepped into the room, but that hadn’t happened. It had been a nice kiss, pleasant, like a kiss on the playground under the slide, not something that lit my soul on fire—not like when Ford’s lips had been on mine.

  “Damn, you hit the awkward ball out of the park on that one.”

  “You have no idea.”

  Then there was the weirdness between Ford and Colm. It was an all-around recipe for disaster, but if the pattern held, I wouldn’t see Ford for another year and a half. I could handle that as long as the thoughts about him stopped playing in surround sound in my mind.

  “The game’s on in a few. LJ was bitching about sharing a hotel room on the road, but the coach said it’s for team-building purposes. I told him to suck it up. He’ll just have to spank it in the shower like a normal guy.”

  “Why do you bust his balls so much?” I scrunched my eyebrows and looked at her.

  She shrugged. “Habit. It also helps keep the lines of our friendship crystal clear. You watching the game with me?”

  “No, I’ve got to study.”

  “You’ve been studying all day.”

  “Not all day.” I wiggled my newly painted fingers at her. “Organic chemistry is a serial killer standing behind a shower curtain, and my grade is about to get sliced and diced if I don’t get this material down.”

  She crinkled up her nose. “It’s the worst. Let me know if you need any help, and by help I mean someone to help set those books on fire.”

  “I will.” I closed the door to my bedroom and sat back at the desk I’d been chained to for days. Colm would kill me if I didn’t ace the semester. I should have just switched majors and been done with it, changed it to something I’d actually use like business, archery, or underwater basket weaving. I could sell my baskets at an artisanal farmers’ market or run away with the circus.

  Cracking open the books, I took a deep breath and dived back in. Rip that Band-Aid off.

  * * *

  “Olivia!”

  The cheerful sound hit me dead center in my chest every single time, the way I imagined it would feel to come home from college if my mom were still around. I closed the taxi door and smiled so wide my cheeks hurt.

  “Hi, Sylvia.”

  She wrapped me up in her arms. I leaned into her, probably more than I should have, and squeezed her back.

  “How are you?” She brushed back the hair from my face and cupped my cheek. “Come inside; it’s so cold. The kids are so excited.”

  She pulled me inside and closed the door behind us. Shrugging off my coat, I wiggled my toes trying to warm up. The smells of Elmer’s glue, goldfish crackers, and construction paper always brought back so many childhood memories. I adjusted my tights. I wasn’t normally a tutu type of girl, but the kids loved it. Their laughter and joy bounced off the walls and poured out of every nook and cranny of the house.

  “They’re energetic as usual and ready to show you what they remember from last time.”

  “Perfect.” I stepped through the doorway. The kids screamed and jumped up and down before rushing me. I crouched down and was nearly bowled over by the kiddie stampede. Is this what being a rock star feels like? “I can’t wait to see what you all remember, and I hope you’re ready for some fun today.”

  Cheers and even more jumping. How did kids always have so much energy?

  With everyone bouncing off the walls half an hour later, I ended our lesson. I’d put them up against anyone in my regular classes when it came to stamina. These children could run for hours and not get tired. Giving them a curtsy with my sheer ballet skirt, I let their teacher take over.

  I grabbed my sweats from my bag and walked into Sylvia’s office, a small room off the kitchen. When they’d lived there, it had been the TV room. Grant and I had hung out in there while waiting for Colm and Ford to finish up practice or get back from a game. Those childhood memories of freshly baked cookies, microwave popcorn, and cartoons were so bright and innocent. Then things had gotten complicated. I tapped my knuckles against her open door.

  “I’ve got some hot chocolate with mini marshmallows, and I can make you a sandwich if you’re hungry.” She popped up from her desk.

  My stomach rumbled.

  “Sounds like you are.” Her laughter was always so full of life and happiness.

  I followed her back into the kitchen. “You don’t have to make me anything. I can grab something on the way back to campus.”

  “Nonsense, of course I’ll make you something.” She spun around with the jar of mayo clutched against her chest. “Unless you need to go. I can whip up something quickly and you can take it with you.”

  The only thing waiting for me back at home was a pile of coursework that made my brain hurt. Marisa was at the library and then off to her torture dinner with her dad. Going bac
k to an empty apartment versus staying there with Sylvia?

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  “Perfect. Have a seat.” She smacked her hand on the black cushioned stool and went to the fridge.

  I hopped up behind the island.

  Sylvia moved around the kitchen like she could do it blindfolded, her black and silver hair hanging down her back like a curtain.

  “Sorry it’s not more, but I had everything handy.” She slid a plate with the biggest BLT I’d ever seen across the counter to me, and there was even a heaping helping of potato chips on the side.

  My mouth watered as the bacony smell wafted up from the toasted bread. “Never apologize for a BLT.”

  She laughed and sat beside me on her own stool. “I’ve got some cookies too, once you’re finished. I made way too many for the parents’ night. You can take a box home if you want. They’re chocolate chip.”

  “Has anyone in the history of the world ever turned down a box of your chocolate chip cookies? Never. Maybe I’ll share them with my roommate. Maybe.” I’d also push my classes extra hard to burn off those calories.

  “Good, because every one of those is another five pounds added to my hips.” Laughing, she took a bite of her sandwich. “How’s school?”

  I regaled her with my ineptitude in biology, organic chemistry, and biochem. This was how I imagined it would be with my mom: sitting in the kitchen, making lunch together, talking about what was going on with me at college. She’d have done it, right? Taken time out as I got older? Maybe over time it would have dawned on her how little time we had before I left for good. Maybe…and maybe we wouldn’t have even been discussing my science classes because I wouldn’t be premed at all. Perhaps I’d have seen even less of her as I got older. She’d never made making time for me a priority…

  Then the guilt came. What was more important for her to do, performing actual brain surgery or showing up to my dance recital? Saving lives, or sitting with me in the kitchen midday on a Tuesday and eating a sandwich?

  “What’s up, Liv? You look a thousand miles away.” Sylvia leaned in with concern swimming in her eyes.

  “Sorry, I…I was just thinking about my mom, worrying I’m letting her down…letting them down.”

  Sylvia’s eyes softened, and she scooted closer. The chair scraped against the tile floor. Covering my hand with hers, she stared into my eyes. “There’s nothing you could do that would. I wouldn’t care if Ford was a street sweeper or doing what he does now. He’s happy, loves his job, and makes good money. Your parents would care about your happiness itself, not the exact path you took to find it.”

  “You don’t understand how important medicine was to them—is to me.” It was one of the last connections I had to them.

  “I’d imagine anyone who does all that work to become a doctor would have to care about it deeply.”

  “They were so proud when I said I wanted to be a doctor.”

  “What parent wouldn’t be? But that’s not an easy journey. I’ve been around my fair share of doctors, and it’s an unforgiving lifestyle sometimes.”

  “It is.” I crushed a chip remnant under my finger. “And I’m not always sure it’s a life I want.” My gaze snapped to hers, and my eyes widened. I hadn’t meant to say that. Of course it was the life I wanted.

  “It’s not something you should take on lightly. There’s nothing that says you have to make that decision today. You’re young, and there’s time.”

  Not when you’re a doctor. There was never enough time. No life for years on end, living inside the hospital, sleeping in on-call beds during twenty-four-hour shifts, eating standing up at the counter because you know if you sit, you’ll pass out. Is that what I want? “This was always the kind of stuff I thought I’d get to talk to her about. I thought I’d have her to help me figure all this out.”

  “I know I’m a poor substitute, but you’re always welcome here, Olivia. Always. I’m here to talk to you whenever you need me.”

  My throat tightened, and I covered her hands with mine. “You’re not a poor substitute at all. You’re an amazing mom. Ford and Grant are lucky to have you.” She made time for them. Hell, she made time for me and I wasn’t even her kid. I was never rushed out of the room. She never disappeared mid-conversation, and she didn’t check her phone every few minutes like something more important was always a text or a page away.

  The time I spent with her was special to me. If I screwed things up with Grant or Ford, I might lose her too, and I’d already lost enough people. I couldn’t handle losing more.

  She chuckled and picked up my plate. “You try telling them that. All I get are moans about my gripes that they don’t come visit more often.” Her phone lit up on the counter. “Speak of the devil.” She tapped the screen and picked it up, a big smile spreading across her face. “Were your ears burning? We were just talking about you.” A short pause. “Olivia. She’s here.”

  An ice bucket might as well have been poured over my head. Just what I needed, Ford thinking I was talking about him to his mom. I got down from the stool and picked up my sweats off the counter. Motioning to the bathroom, I darted out of the room. Quickly taking off my leotard of death, I looked at myself in the mirror. How long had those dark circles been there? The long study days were taking their toll. I got into my clothes and rolled up my ballet gear under my arm.

  “She’s back now—did you want to talk to her?” She paused. “Okay, no problem. I’ll see you soon. Love you.” Ending the call, she grabbed our plates and put them into the dishwasher alongside a collection of bright plastic plates, cups, and utensils.

  “That was Ford.”

  Why would he have wanted to talk to me? I ran my hand over the pang at the center of my chest. Get a grip, Liv.

  “He didn’t know you’ve been stopping by.” She eyed me from the stove.

  “It’s not a big deal. He’s always traveling so much, and it just never came up.” I shrugged.

  “What about Grant? The three of you always seem to be doing a dance of checking on who’s here and who isn’t.”

  I stared down at the floor. Did she know I’d kissed both her sons? My stomach backflipped.

  She wiped her hands on the towel and gave me a hug. “It’s okay, sweetie. It will all get figured out.”

  Sylvia sent me on my way with two boxes of soft baked chocolate chip cookies after I inhaled five with a glass of milk. I was a ten-year-old all over again. Colm and I had tried our hand at baking for my school bake sale once right after our parents died. Eighty percent of the cookies had ended up a charred mess at the bottom of the trash can and he’d given up, eventually going out to the bakery for a few dozen.

  The messes weren’t as easy to clean up now. Real life loomed ahead, and the choices I had to make only got harder. Ford had popped up twice in one week after almost eighteen months of distance. Maybe his guilt had finally caught up with him. Good. It was a test, and I was not going to fail.

  It was a new resolution, a few months late, but whatever. I wasn’t spending another minute thinking about him. I had enough problems to deal with. I didn’t need to add a scruffy-faced, six-one goalie into the mix.

  7

  Ford

  I peeled my eyelids open at the annoying chirp that wouldn’t stop. Lifting my phone, I stabbed at the glowing screen.

  “What?”

  “I’ve called you five times already.” Colm’s annoyance matched my own.

  “I’d have thought me not answering the first four would have given you a hint.” Squinting my eyes, I checked the time: nearly three a.m. “Why the hell are you calling so late?”

  “Oh shit, I forgot about the time difference.”

  I grumbled under my breath.

  “Have you gotten a chance to talk to Liv?”

  “No. I mean yes.” I wiped the sleep from my eyes, pushing away the dreams filled with a blue-eyed woman whose head fit perfectly under my chin.

  “Is it yes or no?”
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  “I talked to her a couple days ago at Heath’s. She said school was going well and she’s fine.”

  “Seriously? You think she’s going to spill just like that? I need to know what’s going on with her, need to know she’s okay. Being this far away is going to drive me crazy. You owe me.” The concern in his voice bled through the line. I pushed aside the bitter pill of his anger, focusing on why he needed me to do this.

  “I’ll meet up with her again after these away games, and I’ll turn up the interrogation.”

  He let out a deep breath. The past year, his worry about her had shot through the roof. I knew all about being protective of a younger sibling, especially when you turned into a default parental figure, but the pressure he was putting on her was insane. Maybe by talking to her, I’d be able to figure out why he was going off the deep end.

  “Thanks. I’m glad I can still count on you.”

  I squeezed the bridge of my nose. Before, he’d never have thought twice about it.

  “You know you can.” Guilt knotted in my stomach. He might not think so if he knew what I’d just been dreaming about. He’d probably break my nose.

  We ended the call, and I picked up my phone again.

  Me: Hey Liv, want to get ice cream on Thursday?

  What was she, five? Delete!

  Me: Liv, we should go to a movie this week

  That would be the perfect way to pick her brain: sitting in a dark theater for two hours while laser focused on where our arms touched on the armrest. Delete!

  Me: I’m back in town Thursday. Can we meet up?

  The second I hit send, my gaze shot to the time and I smacked myself on the forehead. Who sends a text like that at three a.m.? This moron, that’s who. Slamming my head down on the pillow, I tugged it from behind my head and shoved it over my face. If I was lucky, I’d smother myself by morning. The minutes ticked by as I pretended I wasn’t waiting for her reply.