The smile I was sporting is now gone with the sad realization that Josie doesn’t support my music. It’s not like I can blame her. I didn’t give her time to really accept it. I played for her once, without warning, and never brought it up again. I blindsided her with something she had no clue about. She doesn’t know how music makes sense in my jumbled up mind. Playing my guitar allows me to escape my life and I need that escape. I need to be able to shut my mind off and just play. I want to play for people. I’m not naïve in thinking I’m the next great singer, but if just one person likes what they hear from me, I’m complete. What if Josie doesn’t understand that?
The hours pass and before I know it I’m pulling into the parking lot where her dorm is located. I shut off my truck and watch the other students as they walk by. I spot Josie, laughing as she walks into her dorm. It hits me straight on that she’s happy here. She’s happy and I’m not. Josie’s living her dream, or at least she thinks she is. The thing is I can’t continue to live like this. I can’t. I can’t pretend anymore, to her, to my friends, and to myself. I feel like my head is under a pillow and I’m unable to breathe. I’m suffocating and I don’t know how to stop it.
I can’t do this. Not to her. Not to me. I’m the biggest fucking joke of a boyfriend on the planet. We had this dream and when I was sixteen it sounded fucking fabulous but right now I want to throw a rock through the window and shatter that dream into a million tiny pieces. I don’t want to play football anymore. It’s not for me. Seeing her in this moment, laughing and joking with her new friends, I know that I can’t do this to her. Taking her to LA with me, asking her to give up her dreams just so I can pursue something other than the plan we had, would make me just as bad as Sterling. I’d be pushing her to do something she doesn’t want to do. Even if she doesn’t know what’s out there in California, it’s not cheerleading and it’s not football. It’s not her idea of us.
She’s going to hate me.
I get out of my truck slowly. My feet feel like concrete blocks are tying them down. Each step is heavier than the last. The common room of her dorm is bustling with students. Some are watching TV and others are playing pool. None of them look at me as I start to climb the stairs to her room. How I know where to find her is beyond me. I know nothing about this school, yet everything seems so familiar. Maybe it’s because she’s been so descriptive when we talk or maybe it’s because I’ll always know when she’s near.
Her door is decorated with a white board and multiple paper flowers full of color. I raise my hand and knock twice. My heart starts racing, worse than when I first asked her to homecoming. Thinking back to that seems like so many years ago. Josie and I haven’t had enough time together, not in this life. We’re supposed to create greatness together and I don’t think that’s going to happen.
Standing before me is my girl. Her hair is down and she’s wearing one of my t-shirts. When I look in her eyes I see happiness and confusion. She doesn’t know why I’m here and now that I’m in front of her, neither do I.
“Liam, what are you doing here?” she asks the most obvious question. Yes, what am I doing here?
“I needed to see you,” I tell her, unsure of my own words. Do I really need to see her, yes, but the calm I feel with her isn’t there. And I can’t figure out why.
“I’m glad you’re here, you must be tired.” Her hand finds mine, she tries to pull me into her dorm room but I’m not budging. My concrete feet won’t move.
“You don’t want to come in?” Her voice breaks. She knows something’s wrong.
I do, but I can’t. If I go in I’ll never leave and nothing will change. My life will be the same pattern over and over again and if I don’t change it I’m going to go nuts.
I shake my head just slightly but it’s enough to peak her attention. “Something wrong Liam?”
My throat starts to close, my heart… it feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest. I know I’m doing the right thing, but why does it feel so horrible. What if I’m wrong? What if she doesn’t care about football and the life we thought we wanted years ago?
“I dropped out of school”
The first look of what is about to be a hissy fit spreads across her face. I have this face memorized from when we had our fight about Candy and me smoking. What she doesn’t know is that I’ve been smoking more and more. It gives me something to occupy my time with instead of thinking about how much I hate my fucking life right now. She comprehends the words I just said to her. She’s thinking about the plan. The plan I just deviated from. The all-American plan where I become an NFL football player and we live in a quiet neighborhood raising our two children, a boy and a girl, and she travels to my games and never misses one because she’s my personal cheerleader.
“Okay, why?”
“I… um… I can’t –”
“Can’t what? You’re scaring me, baby. Come in and we’ll talk about it. We’ll call your coach and fix this.”
I feel a sense of relief wash over when she says we’ll call my coach. That is exactly what I don’t want and I know I’ve made the right decision. I don’t want to play football anymore and she’s tied to football.
“I can’t be with you anymore, Josephine.” I don’t look at her when I say these words. I turn and walk away, ignoring her voice as she calls my name. I run down the hall, my feet suddenly free, zigzagging through the people that just witnessed my girl and I break up.
I stand by my truck waiting for her to come out. I keep telling myself that if she comes out, I’ll throw her in the truck and take her with me. The sound of hurt and anguish comes from her building. I turn and stare up at her window, it’s open and her curtains are blowing in the wind. She’s crying. I can hear her crying and it’s killing me. I try to go to her, but I can’t. I’m frozen to the ground. If I could just move, I can go back in there and pull her to me and make everything okay. Or I can get in my truck, drive away and never look back. I love my girl. I love her so much. Hearing her cry is killing me, breaking me. When my eyes become unfocused and watery I realize I need her. I can’t do this. I can’t go to Los Angeles without her. I take a step toward her when I see Mason running toward her dorm. She called for Mason, not me. She didn’t follow me out of her room when she could’ve. She could’ve come after me, chased me down the hall, but she chose not to. She could be standing in front of me, pounding on my chest and telling me how much she hates me, but she’s not.
She chose not to follow me.
Betty meets me at a diner once I hit the city limits. I stumble into her arms the moment I step out of my truck. I know my eyes are bloodshot and for the first time in my life, I feel like a girl. I broke my own heart two-days ago and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. I know Josie would take me back if I asked her to, but why should she? I wouldn’t. I deserve to be alone and without love for the rest of my life. I’ve done the unthinkable.
I follow my grandma into the diner and we take a booth by the large window. I’ve never seen so much traffic and so many lights before. It’s late, but the city isn’t asleep.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Liam, but you look so lost.”
I bite my lip and tell myself I’m not going to shed another tear. For the past 48 hours I’ve thought about stopping and turning around, but couldn’t do it. I did nothing but picture Josie curled up next to me, sharing Doritos and Coke for breakfast, while we navigated our way to California. I could see her, sitting by the passenger side with her hair blowing in the wind, looking at the map to keep me on the right path. Each vision would reduce me to a blubbering mess. It’s not only women who end up with broken hearts. Mine is split with half of it dead and it’s all my doing.
“I’m trying not to be lost, but …”
Betty reaches across the table and takes my hands in hers. “I can listen.”
I shake my head and take a deep breath. “I left my girl. I wanted to bring her with me, but I don’t think she’ll understand why I need to be here.”
&
nbsp; “And why do you need to be here?”
I sit up straighter and reach for my glass of water. I take some ice in my mouth and chew before looking at my grandma. “Being on that stage at school gave me a purpose. People were there to listen to me because they wanted to be. They weren’t there to watch me throw a touchdown so the team had a victory. They were there for me. I can’t help but think I’m meant to do something else in life.”
“And you want to try the music scene?”
I nod even though I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I have a guitar and two maybe three songs, which I’ve written, that probably make no sense to anyone but myself.
“I know it’s going to be hard. I thought I could find a job during the day and play at some open mic nights. I don’t think I’m anything special, but I want to play music. I don’t have any expectations.”
“That’s good because the industry is cut-throat, Liam. They’re vultures here looking for their next prey and I’d hate to see that be you. The first thing I’m going to tell you is trust no one who says they can help because they want something in return.”
“Okay,” I say.
“The next piece of advice is never change who you are on the inside. Be true to your craft. I’ve heard you play and can say your grandfather would be so proud of you. You’re a natural. It won’t take long for you to start turning heads and for people to start offering you the moon, but be smart about it. Don’t sell yourself short. And finally, I have faith in you. You don’t need a job. I’ll take care of you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I have eighteen years of making up to do, of course I do. Now come on, let’s go home. I’ll let you go through your grandfather’s stuff and see if there’s anything in there that might help you. He started at an open mic night too.”
That thought makes me smile.
I stand at the edge of my grandma’s property and take in the view. She wasn’t lying when she said her house overlooks Hollywood. The scenery is breathtaking and so lively. The lights alone make this place inviting. Her yard is manicured with lush green grass and flowers lining her brick walkway. Her house is white, with floor to ceiling windows looking out to Hollywood and nothing like the houses in Beaumont. Betty calls the style vintage Hollywood and laughed at me when I said everything looked so different here. The lights in her house cast a soft glow over me as I stand on the edge of her cliff. I’m trying not to think about the destruction I’ve caused, but it’s heavy on my mind.
What’s Josie doing now? Is she over me? How long until she’ll move on? I can’t help but think that Mason will have someone for her, seeing as she didn’t hesitate to call him to comfort her after I broke her heart. Maybe he’ll fix her up with someone who will help her live her all-American dream. As much as I want that person to be me, it can’t be. Not right now.
I’ve been here for two hours and haven’t moved. If I focus I can hear life moving around below me. It makes me wonder if other people are making life changing decisions and breaking hearts?
Every so often, a car’s headlights shine off the cliff that my grandma’s house is on. She says there are actors, actresses, musicians and every other Hollywood type in her neighborhood. She offered to introduce me, but I declined. I want to pave my own way and try to make a name for myself. After everything I’ve done, I need to earn my keep and deal with whatever comes next.
I don’t even know what that is though. I can’t imagine myself walking into a record company and saying, “hey I want to be a musician”. I know it doesn’t work like that. I wish it would. For the first time in years I don’t have a plan. I’m still lost and confused. My emotions have gotten the best of me and I’m still not certain I’ve made the right decision.
I feel for the cell phone in my pocket. The display lights up with missed calls from Mason, and voicemails. I press the button and type in my code to hear my messages, except I don’t want to hear what Mason has to say. I press the corresponding number to delete each message the moment his voice comes on. I know he wants answers, but I don’t have any right now. I need to make a clean transition and talking to him and Josie will not help me do that. I look down at my phone and wonder how long it will be until this is turned off or he reports my truck as stolen. Those actions would be typical Sterling so I know it’s just a matter of time. I pull out my phone and see no missed calls. I’m not gonna lie, it hurts to know she hasn’t tried to call me. Maybe she needs time or is waiting for me to call. I want to. I want to hear her voice and tell her how sorry I am for leaving her and ask her to come here with me while I pass through this adventure, but I can’t. I can’t offer her the life that she wants or needs. Someone will be able to one day and when that day comes, it will kill me, destroy me.
“You look deep in thought.” My grandmother’s voice breaks my reverie. I wipe at my eyes, hoping that she doesn’t see them longing for my girl.
“Just watching,” I say without turning to face her. She steps next to me and sighs.
“Your mom was born here in this house. She grew up playing in this yard and swimming in the pool out back. I thought she wanted this life, but she surprised me when she just upped and left without any word. I tried to get her back but Sterling had given her other ideas. It broke my heart.”
“That’s what I did.”
“What’s that, Liam?”
I shake my head, pulling my lower lip into my mouth and biting. Right now thinking about Josie hurts too much. “I upped and left because I’m a coward.”
Her hand touches my arm in a soothing, motherly way. It’s something I’ve craved for so long.
“What’s her name?”
“Josie Preston.”
“How long have you been with her?”
I toe the grass in front of me and sigh, shaking off a shudder that is trying to work its way through my body. “I’ve known her for a long time, but we’ve been together since I was fifteen. We had this plan where I was going to go into the NFL and we were going to get married, but last year I started second-guessing everything and I tried to tell her, but either I wasn’t saying the right things or she wasn’t willing to accept that I was changing. Thing is, she had no idea about football being a career until I entered her life and I sold her on the idea and when I no longer wanted it, she did. I couldn’t find a way to tell her what I want out of life without crushing her dreams. I love her more than anything and I just left her. I just walked out of her life and drove here. I did it because I didn’t want her to get to the point where she resented me for this.”
“That’s how your grandfather left. I came home after being gone for a week and no sooner do I walk in, he’s walking out. Said he was done. I said good riddance even though I loved him. I let him walk out because I thought he’d be back. I waited and waited and he never came home. About a month later I received divorce papers and cried my eyes out. I thought, “what the hell did I do?” but it wasn’t me. It was him and his eye for anything blond.”
“What about my mom?”
Betty waves her hand like getting divorce papers was no big deal. “Bianca and Charlie had the best relationship. He loved her so much. He never remarried after me and when he got sick, he moved back here and I took care of him. It’s why I have all of his belongings. Well they’re your mother’s, really, but she doesn’t talk to me so I guess you can have them.”
I grow silent, just listening to the life that is happening below us. In Beaumont the moon can light your way, but here, it’s the lights. The glitz and glam that is taking place just down winding road.
“Thank you,” I blurt out, breaking the silence.
“For what?”
“For telling me to follow only my dreams. I had been following my dad’s and a combination of Josie’s and mine and was so afraid to veer off that path because I was going to lose her. I knew I had to leave or I was going to lose myself.”
Betty steps closer and puts her arm around me. I lean into her, relishing in the atte
ntion. I hate that my parents took her away from me. I imagine someday, I’ll ask my mother why, but I don’t see myself doing that anytime soon.
“I want to try this music thing for a year. Give myself twelve months to see what I can do and if I fail, I’ll go back to college.”
Betty nods. “That sounds like a good plan. Now come on, let’s go eat and you can unpack.”
We walk back into her house, hand in hand. With how welcoming she’s been and how loving, I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave her.
I tie the black tie my grandmother bought for me and let it hang against the freshly ironed white shirt. I have to wear a jacket tonight, but at this point in my life I’ll do anything my grandma asks me to do.
Tonight, she’s having a gathering as she calls it. What I found out from her housekeeper is that her gatherings include somewhere between fifty to one hundred people coming here to have cocktails and discuss Hollywood gossip. I’ve also learned, in the last two months, that my grandma can gossip with the best of them.
I’ve yet to perform since I’ve been here and even though that should bother me, it doesn’t. It’s giving me time to fine-tune my stage performance. I play in front of my grandma and the house staff all the time. They all say I’m good and can’t wait to see me perform on stage. My grandma has offered to make some calls, but I told her that I need to do this on my own, no handouts. I know she wants to help, but I need to struggle. I need to feel like I’m accomplishing something for everything I’ve left behind.
I don’t know what to expect from tonight. I do know a lot of industry people will be here and we’ll be mingling. In all my years, I’ve never mingled. I’m not even sure I know how to mingle or be social. I am promised that no one will ask about where I came from or what I’m doing. Betty simply told them that her grandson has come to live with her.
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