Another New Life

by Sydney Aaliyah Michelle

  "I'm happy for you," Troy said. "Do you and this guy talk about us?"

  "Brandon. Yeah." I took a sip and stared at the side of my cup. "If it wasn't for Brandon, I probably wouldn't have come over last night. He said I couldn't pick and choose what I decided to deal with or not deal with. I sort of have to tackle them all at the same time. They're all connected."

  "What else does he say about us?"

  "Well, he says one of the things that kept me from resolving my issues was the guilt I had for devastating everyone's life around me. Not only what it did to my family, but what it did to your family as well."

  I watched Troy's face for recognition. Feeling braver and stronger the more I talked about it, I continued.

  "Your mom knew what Scott was capable of, and that's why she and your dad got divorced."

  This time he looked at me.

  "How do you know that?"

  "My mom told me."

  "What exactly did she say?"

  "My mom said the reason Scott didn't visit often was because he made inappropriate comments to your mom, and it made her uncomfortable."

  "She never told me that."

  "Troy, you were a kid. It's probably why she didn't want you to visit your dad after they broke up too." I moved closer to him. "They knew Scott had problems, and when my parents told them something might have happened to me, it confirmed it in her mind, but your dad didn't believe it."

  "Damn."

  "My parents were afraid he would still be coming around. My mom was concerned about what influence Scott might have had on you. She wanted me as far away from the scene as possible."

  "Did they think I did something to you?"

  "No. Even with Scott, they thought it only happened that one time. They had no clue it had gone on for three years."

  "Jesus, Miranda." He put his head in his hands.

  "I know. Pretty fucked up." He looked up and shook his head.

  "Yeah. I mean, how do we even begin to climb out of this?"

  "For me, it started with giving up on trying to forget it happened. Like, I have to talk about it."

  "You got any tips for me?"

  "Yeah." I placed my hand on his arm. "Call your mom. You've been blaming her for years, and all she was trying to do was protect you."

  "You weren't even there, you don't know anything about it."

  "Come on, Troy, think about it. She did to you exactly what my mom did to me." I took Troy's hand. "They tried to protect us, but they didn't understand how they were hurting us."

  "And that's okay?"

  "It's not okay, but they did the best they could."

  "You really believe that shit? You think keeping me away from my dad and my brother while at the same time making me hate her was the best she could do?"

  "Better than tell her eleven-year-old son his father didn't care that his sixteen-year-old son molested his little brother's best friend."

  "Fuck." Troy stood up and walked toward his room. "I can't handle this."

  That was the difference between us. I had to handle it. I had no choice.

  ***

  Troy returned, showered and dressed.

  "What time does your flight leave?"

  "Eleven am"

  "Can I take you to the airport?" His gazed shifted to his feet.

  "Yeah."

  We drove back to the dorm in silence. I picked up my bags, and we headed to the airport. We hadn't spoken three words since leaving his house. When we arrived, I opened the door, ready to escape the tension.

  "Can you wait a second?" I closed the door. He drove to the garage across from the terminal and parked. "I feel like if I let you get on that plane without saying what you need to hear, it's over for us."

  "It's not."

  "Why do I feel like it is?"

  "Troy."

  "Please, tell me what I can do to make this right. This can't be it."

  I couldn't look at him, and I didn't know what to tell him. The idea of us not being together made me sick, but I didn't know what I wanted or what he needed to feel better. I couldn't say it was over, but I couldn't say it wasn't, either.

  "Troy, there's nothing that has to be said. We have to see what happens."

  "No, you have to see what happens." He turned to me, and although he sounded angry, he didn't have anger in his eyes. "I love you so much. I always have and I always will. It doesn't matter what happened to you. As far as I am concerned, the things that happened to you made you the amazing, beautiful, and incredible women you are today."

  I gripped his arm to get him to stop his rant, but he continued.

  "I know you have some stuff to deal with. So do I, but you can handle anything. Take as much time as you need and when you're ready, give me a call because, in the end, I know we are going to be together. Even if you're not sure, I know it." He leaned over, pulled me toward him, and kissed me hard. I forgot to breathe, focusing on how Troy communicated his true feeling with his lips. Reiterating what was in his heart through a kiss. He pulled back and stared. I couldn't gather one simple thought. Everything came at me at once. He looked like he was searching for a sign or a clue, something to reassure him we weren’t over. My mind went empty and quiet. I didn't convey anything, but he saw something anyway. "It doesn't make sense for us not to be together," he whispered, and kissed me again, this time softer. I didn't know what to say, but I realized looking into Troy's eyes, I knew I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

  I opened the car door, and Troy squeezed my arm again, but then he let go. I stepped out of the truck and started to shut the door behind me. I took one step toward the terminal, but a single thought came to the surface, and I turned to tell Troy before I lost it again. When I turned back around, he leaned across the seat. I leaned in as well, our faces inches from each other. I almost lost the thought again as I stared at Troy’s lips. I leaned closer to kiss him, but then remembered.

  "How am I going to call you? You don't have a phone."

  I knew the final words I spoke to Troy gave him some hope. I spent the hour-long plane ride going over the conversation in my mind. He was right. It wouldn't make sense for us not to be together. I believed the words, but it took me a long time to accept my past, and I continued to work on it. Troy could forgive me for not telling him, and forgive himself for his actions, but how could he forget.

  I couldn't forget, and I'd had eight years to process it.

  Darcy's little family home turned out to be a 120-acre working ranch with a twelve-bedroom castle situated in the center. We spent the rest of winter break riding four-wheelers, swimming in the covered and heated pool, and eating enough food to feed a small country. I had a great time, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being on the outside looking in and envying the world around me. Darcy's parents were adorable. I found myself watching them. The way they were with their kids, their grandkids, with each other; if ever I needed to look at an example of a quality relationship, they were it.

  It wasn't how I was raised. It was as foreign to me as I imagined Seattle would be to Darcy.

  I know you can never tell about a family looking from the outside in, but Darcy's family loved and respected each other, and they were there for each other.

  I wanted that so bad with my own family. I wanted that with Troy.

  The day before we headed back to school, I woke up early. I headed downstairs trying to find the kitchen and got lost. I ended up on the back patio and found Mr. Albritton.

  "Hi, Mr. Albritton."

  "Good morning Ms. Miranda." His jovial tone made me smile. "You're up early."

  "I couldn't sleep."

  He cocked his arm back and hauled a tennis ball into the backyard. The two dogs sitting by his feet took off at full speed and disappeared over a small hill in the back of the yard. I watched, waiting for them to return. His voice startled me.

  "You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Ms. Miranda. What does a young lady like you have to be so stressed about?"

 
"Life, I guess." I shrugged my shoulders and sat down on the patio table.

  "Well, that's not a good thing to be stressed about. Life happens regardless."

  I smiled remembering Darcy's "Love is Love" speech.

  "Mr. Albritton?"

  "Yes, darlin'?"

  "Do you think it's possible for someone to forget their past?" He threw the ball again, but instead of waiting for the dogs to return, he walked over and sat next to me.

  "Well, why would you want to forget your past? Lessons from our past shape us into the people we are today."

  "Yeah, but can't you keep the lessons without having to remember how those lessons were learned." I wasn't making sense even to myself.

  "Miranda, Darcy told me what happen to you."

  I looked up at him, my cheeks burning red. He stared out into the backyard.

  "Why?"

  "Well, she came to me for advice on how she could help you, but basically she asked me the same questions."

  A ping of jealousy caused me to rub my chest as I thought how much easier my life might have been if I had someone like him to talk to.

  "What did you tell her?"

  "I told her as you go through life, things are going to happen to you, both good and bad. But when you sit down by yourself, get your mind quiet, and think over your life, what do you come back to? What do you reflect on? Do the memories you hold closest to your heart make you laugh or cry? If you laugh more than you cry, then your spirit is good. No matter what happened to you in the past."

  "I'm afraid to look," I said.

  "Don't be a scared. I think you might be surprised at what you find out about yourself if you're quiet enough to hear."

  "Mr. Albritton, I would never have guessed you to be into this introspective hoo-ha." A word I 'd learned from Darcy.

  "It's Mrs. Albritton; she made me this way, and you know, I don't mind." He laughed. "But don't tell her I said so."

  "I won't." I leaned over and gave him a hug. He patted my on my head, much like he did to the dogs, and headed back in the house.

  I spent the rest of the day walking and thinking. I thought about Troy and me as kids. Playing in the backyard, getting in trouble, and until four months ago, it was the happiest time in my life.

  I thought about our first kiss and how I got flushed every time I passed by that practice room. I thought about the time we spent in his room; studying, watching TV, and doing all the other stuff that made me blush.

  I also thought about the last few weeks. How most of it occurred because I was too scared and weak to tell Troy the truth. I couldn't help but think about how, if I’d had the courage to tell Troy in the beginning, maybe Scott would still be alive and getting some help. I played the what-if game all day and in the end, despite everything, the one conclusion I came to was that I loved him. I wanted to be with him because I liked myself when I was with him. Plus, if we could get through this, we could get through anything.

  ***

  We headed back to school after New Year’s, stopping in Dallas for lunch. Darcy was more than thrilled about my revelations.

  "You have to call him," Darcy said.

  "What? Now?"

  "Yeah, why not?"

  "It can wait until we get back to campus."

  "No it can't," she said.

  "It can't?"

  "Well, yeah, it could, but wouldn't this make a better story? You love him and you couldn't wait, so you drove all the way to Dallas to tell him."

  "Never mind the fact that you have to drive through Dallas to get back to Austin."

  "I swear you don't have a romantic bone in your body."

  I let out a sigh.

  "Call him." Darcy could be pushy for a polite southern belle.

  "Okay, I'll be right back." I grabbed my phone and my jacket and headed outside. I took a moment to decide how I wanted to start this conversation. I could get right to it, declare my love for him. I could just check on him and wait until we get back to campus. I thought about walking back into the restaurant and telling Darcy I chickened out, but she would never let me hear the end of it.

  I dialed his number. He answered before it completed a ring.

  "Miranda." He sounded unsure. "Baby, is that you?"

  He took a deep breath and whispered, "Yes" to himself.

  Him calling me baby made me smile.

  "Troy."

  He didn't answer me.

  "Wait. I'm here," he said. "I'm sorry, you have no clue how much I needed to hear your voice."

  "Are you okay?"

  "I couldn't do it. I couldn't go to the ceremony and listen to the lies." He let out another deep breath. "I’m at my dad’s house, and he’s pissed. I thought I could go and be there for him, but I couldn't."

  The panic in his voice scared me. It hit me; he must have been talking about Scott's funeral. Tears sprang to my eyes.

  "Troy?"

  "No, I'm okay. I am so good right now. You have no idea. I know it's stupid, but I've been sitting here praying for a sign, something, anything to help me get through this." He laughed. "And you called."

  "Wow."

  "Oh God, I'm so glad you called. I miss you, and I know, you need some time. I understand, I just love you so much and more then anything, I want you to be okay.”

  "I'm okay."

  Neither of us spoke for a few moments.

  "Where are you? You guys back on campus?"

  "No, on the way back. We're in Dallas."

  "You're in Dallas?"

  "Yeah."

  "I want to see you. Can I see you?" I bit the bottom of my lip to keep from laughing. He sounded like a little boy.

  "Where?"

  "Uhm, there's a park downtown. I want to show it to you. It’s maybe a little cold."

  "I've got a coat," I said, a little too eager. Troy laughed.

  "How am I going to find you?" I asked.

  "It's not that big, you'll see when you get there. I'll text you the directions. You’re about twenty minutes away, meet me there in an hour."

  "Okay."

  I hung up the phone and realized I didn't get a chance to say anything I'd planned.

  When we reached the park, Darcy let me out on one end, and I walked a block not sure I was in the right place. The park was nestled on the edge of downtown Dallas spanning three blocks over a highway. You could see where the cars entered and exited in both east and west sides of the park, but while in the park, you heard no noise. The quiet setting helped quiet my anxiety about this moment. The next few minutes would affect my foreseeable future, and perhaps the rest of my life. I might be overstating it a bit, but at that moment, it felt awfully important.

  I walked another block of the park, past the permanent stage into an open area. A few people gathered at the other end of the park, but other than that, the park was empty.

  My core temperature rose because as soon as I cleared the stage, I spotted Troy sitting at a piano on the edge of the park and looking sexier than I remembered. He'd cut his hair. Without his shaggy curls, he looked older. He wore jeans, boots, and a black parka with an orange Longhorn symbol on the arm. He kept rubbing his head as if trying to get used to his new hair.

  I made it ten feet from him before he looked up, but he didn't move. Didn't stand up to give me a hug. Didn't make an effort to reach out to me. He stayed seated and watched me walk toward him.

  I'd pictured this tearful and emotional reunion the setting called for, but maybe real life didn’t happen like that. Neither of us had a script to read from. We were making this up as we went along.

  I sat facing the piano. I lifted the lid to expose the weather-worn keys. I pressed a note, and Troy turned to face me. A spark inside of me ignited when he smiled at me.

  "Hi," he said.

  I'd forgotten all the little things about him that made me want him. They all came back in one huge burst. His voice when he said hi, the look in his eyes before he kissed me, the flex in his fingers as they touched me.

  H
e pulled his eyes away and studied something on the ground. He was waited for me to make the first move.

  I played another note.

  "This place is amazing."

  "I thought you'd like it," he said but wouldn't look at me. It was like he didn't trust himself to look at me, but you didn't need eyes to see what was happening between us. I turned to face him, my leg pressed up against his.

  "Can I say something?" I said.

  "Yeah,"

  "I don't want there to be any misunderstandings or confusion."

  "Okay."

  "I'm sorry." He looked at me. "I called earlier because I couldn't wait another second to tell you something."

  "What?" He still hadn't turned to face me.

  "I love you."

  He hid his face in his hands, and I couldn't tell if he was smiling or crying. I slid my hand into his. My eyes fixed on the knuckle he broke protecting me. He watched as I brought his hand to my lips. I didn't realize I'd been crying until he caught one of my tears on my cheek and tasted it. I wanted to taste it, too.

  I didn’t know if I climbed on his lap or if he pulled me to him, but our lips crashed into each other. It felt so good. It was like sharing a first kiss all over again. His chapped lips softened from the moisture generated by our kiss. The texture added to the uniqueness of the moment. He bit my bottom lip, and I moaned. He sucked on it and soothed the bite. His hands had found their way under my jacket, and his bare hand on my back made me shiver and moan again. I unzipped his coat to get closer to him, and he wrapped us both inside. We never took our lips off of each other.

  I was seconds away from reaching down to touch him when the laughter from the other end of the park reminded me we were in public. I leaned back and had to push him away.

  "Hey." I placed my hands on his face, tapping his cheeks with my fingertips. If his mind was where mine was a second ago, I knew he wouldn't want to come back.

  He opened his eyes and looked into mine.

  "I guess were not exactly alone," he said.

  "I don't think getting arrested for public indecency is going to look good on your record."

  "It would totally be worth it," he said, and kissed me as he pushed me off of his lap. I groaned in protest. "Would you play me something?"