Liam's Journey

by Heidi McLaughlin

  Once we’re done she crawls in between my legs and rests her head on my shoulder. I hold her in my arms as we watch the sunset, casting the perfect glow over the river. I could sit like this every day and not have a care in the world. Unfortunately, it will be back to reality for me as soon as I get home. The pile of college letters will be sitting there and Sterling will be looking at his calendar to schedule visits. None of which I want to go on. I want to sit here and hold my girl and watch this sunset over and over again because right now it’s my favorite time of the day.

  My father’s office light is on when I pull into our driveway. I was hoping that he wouldn’t be here when I came home. The last thing I want to do is talk to him. We have nothing civil to say to each other and we definitely don’t agree on my college career path. He wants me to play in the SEC and I want to do anything but. The schools in the SEC are fantastic, but it’s the fact that it’s what Sterling wants that makes me want to avoid every single recruiter that comes knocking, just to spite him.

  I carry my football gear into the house through the garage and leave it by the basement door for my mom to wash. Drunk or not, she’s a master at getting out the grass stains. The kitchen is dark and empty with everything from dinner – if they even had dinner – put away. My mom wasn’t waiting for me to come home at all and if she was, I have no doubt that Sterling told her that I would not be eating since I didn’t go home after practice.

  I have rules that I break often. My father doesn’t think I need a social life unless he approves of who it’s with. I can date any of the socialites from the country club or any of his business partners’ daughters, but he won’t acknowledge that I’m in love with Josie Preston. She’s not good enough for me and she doesn’t deserve to be on the arm of a Westbury.

  Imagine being fifteen and asking a girl out for the first time only to have your father tell you she’s trash. I don’t know if it was that moment that I knew I hated my father or not. What I did know was that it didn’t matter what he said about Josie, I was going to be with her.

  The television is on in the family room and I can hear ice dropping into a glass. I could stop in there and say hi to my mom, but by now she’s had so much vodka that she’s in a haze. And what’s the point? It’s not like she’s going to ask how my day was. But I want to talk to her. I want her to ask. I want her to care. I don’t think it’s too much to want at least one parent to give a shit about you, is it?

  Standing in the foyer, I need to make a decision before it’s too late. I can climb the stairs to my room or I can go in and try to communicate with my mom. I step toward the family room only to be halted by the clearing of his throat. I stalled too long. I should’ve dropped my gear off and high-tailed my ass upstairs as soon as I got home. He usually doesn’t bother me if I’m in my room, but out here I’m fair game.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Out,” I say, knowing this answer will not suffice and only piss him off more. I turn around to face my father. He’s still dressed in his three-piece business suit with his tie barely loosened. Sterling Westbury stands at six feet two, one inch taller than me. He was also the starting quarterback in high school. He was awarded a full-ride to Auburn, but was red-shirted by the coach his freshman year and tore up his ACL the next day. My dad never started a college game and the one he played in ruined his career. I’ve heard the story many times growing and when you are six and seven, you want to be like your father. But then you start having dreams of your own and most parents let you run with those, except I’m his dream. Everything he didn’t accomplish is now on my shoulders.

  “With Mason?”

  I shake my head. “Josie.”

  “How many times do I need to tell you to get rid of her? She’s not the right one for you.”

  “I love her,” I retort, trying to keep my temper in check. It wouldn’t bode well for me to get angry with him. He doesn’t care and can take away my truck, and I need my truck.

  “You don’t know what love is, Liam. You love football. That is your focus. Get rid of the girl before it’s too late.”

  “What do you mean too late?”

  Sterling moves toward his office and I know I’m to follow even if I don’t want to. He sits down at his desk and hands me a pile of letters. They’re all addressed to me, but are opened and have notes on them. Each one is from a different college and placed in order of preference according to Sterling. Auburn sits on top, followed by Ole Miss and Arkansas. They’re all interested in me.

  He folds his hands on his desk and clears his throat. “I didn’t raise you to get trapped by the town harlot.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek and shake my head. “You don’t know shit about Josie. I’m her first boyfriend. It’s not like she’s out sleeping around or messing with other guys. We’re in love. I don’t know why my happiness isn’t important to you.”

  “Your happiness is on the field and you don’t need to be some teenage statistic.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “She’s trying to trap you, get herself pregnant. You better not be having sex with her. You’re too good for her.” I want to reach across and slam his face into his ornate desk. I can see myself smashing his head repeatedly until there’s nothing left. Who the fuck does he think he is talking about her like that?

  “You don’t know shit,” I mutter weakly. It’s no use with him. “You’re such an arrogant prick thinking everyone is beneath you.”

  “Everyone is, especially that Preston girl.”

  I hold up the letters he just handed me. “Thanks for these, I’m not interested,” I say, tossing them back on his desk and walking toward the door.

  “Liam, stop,” he demands. When I don’t, he yells it again. I turn and look at him and for the first time in my life I wish he were dead. He’s standing with his hands pushed down on his desk. I could rush him and throw him through his floor to ceiling window if I wanted. My mom would probably clean up the mess before calling the paramedics and that thought makes me laugh. We’re the perfect fucking family on the outside.

  “I don’t want to do this, but you’re leaving me no choice. I’m forbidding you from being with that girl. She’s trouble and you need to focus on college. You’re thinking with your dick and not your head. Don’t be an idiot, Liam, she’s not worth it.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. She is worth it. I’m eighteen, Sterling. You can’t ground me and you definitely can’t hit me,” I inform him as I walk toward him. “You’ve already made my life hell so what are you going to do, kick me out? I do everything you ask, but I won’t let go of Josie.”

  “You’ll see it my way, soon enough.”

  “I doubt it.” I turn and leave, slamming his door in my wake. I almost run into my robot mother standing in the hall, listening.

  “Why are you married to him?” I ask. Her eyes look sad and it makes me wonder why she stays. She knows how he is and how he treats me. Am I not enough for her? Isn’t a mother’s love supposed to supersede everything?

  “He’s my husband.”

  “Am I not important? Do you think it’s okay for him to say that shit about Josie?”

  She looks over my shoulder briefly before bringing her glass to her lips. “You know how he is. Just break it off with the girl, pick his school and keep him happy.” She doesn’t wait for me to respond before she moves to the bar that she keeps fully stocked.

  My parents make me sick to my stomach and there isn’t shit I can do about it until I leave for college, but then what? Come home to this for breaks and holidays? No thanks.

  I take the stairs to my room two at a time. I throw open my door, head for my closet and take out my guitar. This is a risk, but I’m willing to take it. I need to get out of this house and if Sterling and Bianca see me with my guitar, so be it. If I have to hide it at Mason’s from here on out, I’ll do it. Right now I need an escape and this is going to be it.

  I’m back down the stairs and into the garage undetected. I
feel as if I’m doing something illegal and sadly, in the Westbury house, this qualifies. Opening the door to my truck, I hop in and place my prized possession on the seat. I’d give anything to have Josie by my side right now, but I’m not ready to show her yet. I want to be good enough by Christmas so that I can play her a melody that will mean something to her. I want to write words that will mean something to us. I’m not foolish. I’m not looking to make a career out of strumming my guitar, but it’s a good release and I hear chicks dig rockers. Even if I am a wannabe.

  My favorite clerk is working when I enter the country store. She looks up from her gossip magazine and directly at the calendar. I try not to laugh, but I know she’s looking to see if it’s Friday. I’m a few days early.

  It only takes me a minute to spot what I want. I open the glass door, reach into the cooler and grab a six-pack. I don’t know if she’s going to sell it to me with it not being my usual day, but we’re about to find out.

  “It’s not Friday,” she says, as she stands up.

  “Yeah, just think you get to see me twice this week.”

  “You alone?” she asks, her eyes pointing to the beer.

  I look out the storefront window and into the empty cab of my truck. “Yep.”

  The clerk sighs heavily. “Look kid, I know what you do on Friday nights and know you’re not the only one drinking all that beer, but tonight…” she shakes her head and I know what’s coming out of her mouth next. “Are you going to be driving?”

  “No ma’am,” I lie. “I have to pick up my buddy. He’ll be with me and my girl.” I’m shocked at how easily the lie comes.

  “All right,” she says, reluctantly as she takes the cash out of my hand. She bags the six-pack and I’m out the door and heading toward the Cliffs. No one will be there at this time of night and that’s the way I want it.

  I pull into the same spot that I was in earlier. Being here with Josie a few hours ago makes me wish I had gone to get her, but I really want to perfect this melody for her. I want to be able to play something that makes sense even if I’m the only one who understands the way music makes me feel.

  Climbing out of the truck, I have my guitar in one hand and my six-pack in the other. I turn on my pen-flashlight to light the path to the opening and get as close as I can to the edge. I can hear the river, but can’t see it. The pitch-black abyss is rumbling down below waiting to swallow whatever comes its way.

  For a brief moment I consider stepping off the side to see if I can tame the river. I’d lose, of course, but the thrill of trying might be worth it. What would Sterling think when I turn up missing only for them to find me miles down the river? His dream would be shattered and there isn’t a damn thing he could do about it. The only consequence would be that I’d hurt Josie and I can’t do that to her.

  I step away and sit down on the cold hard ground, popping the tab on one of the beers. This is going to be a night of firsts for me. I’ve never been here by myself. I’ve never drunk alone before. I’ve never drunk beer out of a can before either. I’ve never played in the dark. I’ve never played my guitar out in the open. What if the wildlife doesn’t like me? I guess there’s only one way to find out.

  I down my beer and pop the next one before picking up my guitar. With it resting on my leg I let my fingers glide over the strings. I can’t look at it to watch my fingers. This will be blind playing for me and from memory. I don’t have the confidence I have on the field with my guitar. For all I know my positioning will be wrong and even though I’ll think I sound good, the reality is I probably sound like complete shit. I go over what I’ve learned from books. G, C, D, E and A, as I move my fingers into the shapes that I remember, repeating them over and over again. They sound right, but I can’t be too sure.

  Over and over until I’m confident that I can play the melody I’ve been working on. I haven’t felt this relaxed since school started. There’s something so peaceful about making music with your hands, maybe all athletes should do this. Whatever it is, it’s working.

  I close my eyes and let my fingers recall the notes I have written down at home. They may not make sense, but they will… someday. But that moment will have to wait. I’m eager to show her what I can do, what I’ve taught myself. I know she’ll be proud of me.

  The song I’m playing echoes off the rocks and through the valley creating a lullaby for the lurking animals. That’s what I’m telling myself at least; to keep the fear away that any second I’m going to get mauled by a deer for disturbing his slumber. When I stop playing my tune carries on, almost like the surrounding scenery is my own personal orchestra. I smile, despite being alone. It’s a good feeling to have, being able to hear something you’ve created. That’s not something that can be done on the football field.

  On the field, I’m a puppet being controlled by the giant. Do this, run this, throw there. None of those are my decisions. I’m trained to do what I’m told and when. I know every offensive scheme in our playbook. I can run any route thrown at me and pass with the best of them. Double team coverage is a joke because I’m hitting my target in their numbers each and every time. But I’m not free.

  Right now I am and I love this feeling.

  I watch as the seconds tick off the clock before running into the locker room. We have a twenty point lead at half-time and I can’t think of a better way to start our homecoming celebration. My coach hates this part, but it’s tradition. I know he wants to go over what we need to execute, but Mason and I are due on the field for the coronation.

  I jog out of the locker room with Mason by my side and find our girls. I hop into the back of the rented convertible and lay one on her. She doesn’t push me away or tell me that I stink. She cups my face, holding me to her lips.

  The car lurches forward, making me pull away from my girl. We’re about to enter our stadium and drive around the track. The marching band is in front of the first car, leading the parade. The rest of the guys from the football team, lining the sidelines, in a show of solidarity.

  Josie and I are dressed not to impress, that will come later tonight. I’m still in my uniform and she’s definitely in hers.

  “I love you, Jojo,” I say, kissing her one more time before we’re visible to the crowd. My parents are here and have voiced their displeasure of me accepting my homecoming court invitation. This type of thing may not be what Sterling wants, but it’s important to my girl so this is where I’m going to be. I just have to keep him away from her and we’ll be good.

  We do one loop around the track before the cars stop and we’re told to stand by the make-shift podium. I hold Josie’s hand while she exits and even though my parents want me to keep my distance, I don’t. I refuse to let her go of her hand. She’s done nothing wrong. I’m not some fifteen-year-old kid anymore. The first time they told me to stay away from her just drove me to be with her even more. Then I fell in love and it was all over from there. I didn’t care what they said then and I definitely don’t care now.

  Most of the girls hoping to be crowned queen tonight are dressed in their formal dresses. Personally, I think it takes away the element of surprise of when your guy shows up on your doorstep, rings the bell and stands in your entryway waiting for you to make an appearance. Last year when Josie and I were nominated for Princess and Prince of the junior class, I asked her not to change into her dress at half-time because I wanted to see her in all her beauty when I knocked on her door later that night with her corsage in my hand. If I have to be in my uniform, I want her to be in hers as well.

  “I’m sorry I smell,” I whisper into her ear, nuzzling her as I do. She giggles and pushes me away slightly.

  “I’ll forgive you.”

  “After I make it up to you later?” I waggle my eyebrows at her only for her to turn beet red. Our school administrators are standing behind us and one of them is snickering. I shrug and place my arm around her waist, pulling her as close as she’ll let me.

  The microphone is tapped and the crowd goes
silent. “Each year we’re honored to bring forth the finest in our student body for coronation and this year is no exception. The student body nominated two boys and two girls from each class to represent Beaumont High in the annual homecoming parade tomorrow. We use an anonymous ballot voting system here at Beaumont and this year we’ve had a record number of votes.”

  “It’s a popularity contest,” I mumble. Josie tries to jab in my stomach but my shoulder pads prevent her from reaching me before I grab her arm. “What it is, Josie? Do you think any other senior couple stands a chance with me and you and Mason and Katelyn in the running?”

  She rolls her eyes but she knows it. I’m captain of the football team and she’s captain of the cheerleading squad – again it’s the popular vote.

  “Please hold your applause as I announce this year’s coronation court. This year’s freshman prince and princess are: Garrett Plice and Simone Santoro.”

  This is the part of the process that takes forever. Securing the nomination and voting was the fun part. Right now we have to watch each couple or ‘non-couple but only a couple for this moment and a single dance tonight’ take their spot on the podium.

  “Our sophomore prince and princess are: Aiden Hansen and Riley Wade,” the Principal announces. She beams with each name as if she had a hand in making sure they were chosen.

  “Our junior class prince and princess are: Ryder Whitley and Maddy O’Sullivan.” Ryder is on the football team. He’s our tight end and is quicker than shit. No one gets by him. He started dating Maddy over the summer after talking to her all of last year. He finally got up enough nerve to ask her out. I’m sure Mason and I ragging on him didn’t help much, but it’s all locker room talk.

  “Our senior class prince and princess are…” I wish this moment wasn’t happening. It’s between us and our best friends. It’s not going to matter who wins; either Mason or I will be consoling our girls. I’ll be sad if it’s not Josie and me because I know how much she wants this. I faintly hear their names being called. It’s when I see Mason and Katelyn walking toward the podium I know.