by HJ Bellus
That Was
Yesterday
By HJ Bellus
That Was Yesterday
Copyright © 2018 by HJ Bellus.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: December 2018
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-482-2
ISBN-10: 1-64034-482-9
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To Coach, also known as Brinkley in our family, you my friend, have no idea what an inspiration you are. You inspired my Libs and helped her believe in herself. I know you’ve done the same to countless others. You will always be a hero in our house! You’re also one hell of a best friend; I love you dearly. Here’s to several more memories. #itaintmyfault #blameitonthe #roadtriphome #coach #amazingwoman #godyesisnapchatnow
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Epilogue Part 2
Prologue
“Max!”
Her again. The thought makes me feel like a monster and sick at the same time. She’s the one woman I should be loyal to and love without second thought. But it’s a tough job. I find myself hating her more often than liking her.
“Max, now,” her throaty, smoky voice growls out.
I round the corner, tucking my hands in my pockets. “Yeah, Mom?”
She’s strung out on the couch with a lit cigarette perched on her lips while she dangles an empty bottle of Vodka. “Need more booze, son. Go grab me some. Get a carton of Camels while you’re there.”
“Mom.” I glance down kicking the tip of my worn shoe against the corner of the wall. “It’s a new town, and remember I’m only twelve?”
I regret the words the moment they leave my lips. I know better than to reason or even talk to my mom when she’s in this state. She always becomes enraged.
“You spoiled little shit.” She tosses the bottle to the ground and staggers toward me, the cigarette still coupled between her lips. “I’ve fucking given you everything, and you have the fucking balls to back mouth me?”
As soon as her nasty words leave her mouth, I feel the sting of her palm across my cheek. My hands shiver in the denim of my worn pockets. I know better.
“Get your fucking ass down to that store. I’ve blown Jeremy enough, and he knows to bag up my goods for you, and if you want to talk back, go for it, you piece of shit.”
“Yes, Mom.” I glance down to my tattered sneakers that are two sizes too small.
Another sting strikes my cheek then my shirt is ripped, and a searing pain pierces my skin. The smell of smoke and her cackle cause my spine to shiver. Tears threaten to spill over from the pain. But I learned a long time ago: crying only makes it worse.
“Now fucking get gone.” She shoves me back, ramming my back into the sharp corner of the wall. “You have twenty minutes before I call the cops.”
I keep my head facing down but can’t help the smirk on my face. That used to work when I was five. It put real fear in me. Now, I know it’s a lie and always has been. There’s no way she could call the cops. I wish like nothing else she would. And maybe, just maybe, they might save me.
I kick rocks on the dirt road with each step, keeping my shoulders slumped and avoiding rubbing the pain in my chest. My heart hurts worse than the new burn. It now makes over a dozen of them.
We’ve moved countless times. It always starts with a paper posted on our door. I soon learned it’s an eviction notice. I remember the day I asked my second-grade teacher what the word was. I knew it started with an “e” but couldn’t make out the rest of it.
I’ll never forget the smile that crossed her face and the unmistakable joy that overtook her features when she explained the concept. It wasn’t until a few months later that I connected all the dots. She was thrilled to get rid of me.
We’ve been in Boone now for two months. Mom has a sweet deal with the owner. He comes over when he feels like it, they shut the door, and lots of sounds come from it. Mom brags all the time about not having to pay rent. It’s by far the worst house we’ve ever lived in, with creaky floors and leaks everywhere. The carpet in my room is nice, though, and makes a soft bed.
“Watch out, kid.” A larger boy brushes by me, shoving my shoulder. “God, you stink.”
His friends laugh along with the cruel joke. I’d made it to town and hadn’t even realized. I keep my gaze focused on the tiny market on the corner, not paying them any attention. I’ve heard it all.
“I bet he’s the new boy. Heard his momma was nothing but a whore,” a voice chides from my back.
I keep walking with my head down. Nothing ever comes out of sticking up for myself. The burns on my chest speak for that.
“You deaf?” A hand shoves my shoulder.
Laughter fills the air. “Probably deaf and dumb.”
A rock sails through the air, nailing my shoulder. I don’t stop. They follow me all the way to the corner, taunting me and tossing rocks. Eventually, they give up when I don’t react. I know it won’t be the last I see of them. They’ll make my school year a living hell. It’s pathetic to think I never want summer to end because that’s all I have to look forward to.
The bell above the door rings. The aroma of food hits me, reminding me how hungry I am. Since Mom doesn’t have to pay rent, she dumps her monthly checks into booze and cigarettes. I clutch the fifty-dollar bill in my hand, wanting nothing more than to buy a hotdog, smother it in mustard, and fill an extra-large cup with cherry slushy.
The crisp bill in my hand is a brutal reminder of the pay from my dad. He pays my mom a hefty sum every month to keep me a secret. It’s always been like that.
“Did you all hear Jessie might be coming back to town? Heard his injury is pretty damn bad,” a random voice announces.
Endless chatter ensues about this Jessie guy. I run my hand along the row of chips, imagining their salty goodness before making my way to the counter. A neon yellow poster catches my attention.
Summer Football Camp
Hosted by Hometown Legend: Jessie James
I continue reading all the print, growing more and more excited as I do. Sports have always been my one escape, even when it’s just me in the backyard tossing a deflated ball against the side of the house after Mom has passed out.
My heart sinks when I read the cost. It will never be an option for me. Mom would never fork over a hundred dollars for her kid to spend a week doing what he loves.
I clear my throat. “Excuse me, sir. I’m here to pick up an order.”
I’ve learned it’s best to
use code words rather than asking for a bottle and a pack.
“You Max?” The burly man with stained yellow teeth leans down on the counter.
He’s for sure my mom’s type. I’ve never understood why she goes for these types of men with big bellies and dirt under their nails when she’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. At least she was before she decided to drown herself in booze.
“Yes, sir.” I nod, holding out a trembling hand.
“Should’ve known. You look just like your momma.” He bends down, pulling up a brown paper bag.
“Thank you, sir.” I nod and eye the piece of paper one more time.
“Go ahead and take one.” He pushes one my direction.
“No, thank you.”
Embarrassment and shame, a well-known friend, creeps up my spine. I turn before tears really do escape this time. I notice a booth in the corner filled with farmers drinking coffee and talking. One of the men stands up from the booth and extends his hand my direction.
“Hey there, son. I’m Papa.”
His warm and friendly greeting shocks me. I’m taken aback. No one is ever nice to me. They stay far away from me, staring at me like a freak of nature. In a natural response, I take a step back.
“I’m Jack. Most people around these parts know me as Papa. What’s your name?” He jerks his chin, keeping his hand outstretched.
With a trembling hand, I shake his.
“You must live out on the Conrad place north of town with your momma?”
I nod and shake his hand. The moment the connection is made, I know he’s a different kind. There’s something about the thick flannel work shirt he’s wearing, his kind smiles, and the wrinkles that shadow his eyes.
“Yes, sir.” I nod again.
“Well, son, I’ve paid for a spot at that football camp. Just got news today the young man can’t attend. It’s all yours if you’d like.”
My jaw slackens. I’m shocked by the grace of kindness shown to me. It was one small action. One I had no idea would change my life forever.
“Thank you, sir.” I smile for the first time in my life.
I’d have to walk to town and back, which to the school is more than a good mile. But I’ll do it.
“If you ever need anything, you come find me out at Jones’ farm or ask for me in town, son. And I mean it.”
“Thank you,” I repeat myself again.
It ended up that I met this man the town hails as a hero, Jessie. He was kind and caring but never showed anyone favoritism. It was the tiny spark that ignited the fire inside me.
Chapter 1
Max
“What’s your plans, Pretty Boy?” Adam leans down, lacing up his designer shoes.
I despise that nickname. It stuck after I refused to be called Golden Boy by my new teammates at Michigan. It was no secret who my dad is, Jessie James. This university still treats him like a god.
“Finishing an accounting project and hanging with Ally. You?” I zip up my duffel and relax back on the lockers.
I don’t miss the disappointment in Adam’s glance. He’s not an Ally fan, and neither is my mom for that fact. I’ve been with her since my sophomore year in high school. Young love that’s going to make it.
“Come out with me and some of the boys, man. It’ll be lax since we play tomorrow. Nothing wild. Just hanging out and playing some Xbox.” Adam rises to a standing position.
I’ll never get over his sheer mass and size. The crazy ass is over six feet tall and two hundred ninety pounds. He’s the brick wall that protects my ass on the field and has become my best friend here. Adam knows all about my past and how Jessie and Jules took me in as their own.
“And booze, women, and who knows what else,” I add.
He slaps a hand on his chest. “Me? No fucking way, man.”
“Get out of here.” I stand up and shove his chest. “You’re a shit liar.”
“Got me there.” He holds open the door for us. “But one day when you get your dick untangled from Ally, then I’ll show you real life.”
I shake my head. Adam reaches over ruffling up my hair, the only fucker who can get away with it, before he heads off to his blacked-out Escalade. Adam comes from money. It’s evident in his designer clothes that you’d never find me in. The thing about Adam is you’d never know this fact on the field. He works harder than any other player. He’s a one-of-a-kind man.
I weave in and out of rows of cars making my way to my old black work truck, a 1979 Chevy. Worked my ass off for it and damn proud of it. I’ve been saving extra cash that I don’t spend on Ally to fix it up with a new paint job.
My phone rings in my pocket. The pop song blaring lets me know it’s Ally. I stop and drop my bag, answering the call.
“Hey, babe.”
“Hey.” Her bright and affectionate voice causes a wave of love to roll over me.
Ally is her own person, not caring what others think of her. She lives with no regrets, and that’s the first thing that drew me to her.
“I’m just heading out of practice. Was going to grab us some pizza and salad for dinner then I’ll be at your dorm.”
“Um, damn, baby. I’m sorry. I was called into work. I couldn’t say no. Remember Sally, who is a single mother? Her little one has the flu.”
I run my hand through my messy, dark hair, stopping my hand on the back of my neck and wringing out the frustration.
“Ally, this is like the third time this week.”
“I know, Max. I swear I’ll come to your dorm tonight after my shift and then I’m all yours.”
It’s not the best time, but it’s out before I can stop it. “Why do you continue to work at that gym? You don’t even have to work.”
“Seriously, Max.” Agitation swells in her voice. “You of all people should understand.”
Beats of silence float between us. Adam’s recent show of his disapproval of Ally taunts me. We aren’t a perfect couple by any means, but I love her.
“Sorry, babe. I’m exhausted and just missing you.”
“Ditto.” There’s rustling on her end of the line, and a slight giggle escapes her before she focuses back on me. “I promise, baby. I’ll be there tonight.”
There’s something in her voice that sends chills up my spine. I’m too damn exhausted to acknowledge it.
“Love you, Ally.”
“Love you, too, number eleven, always and forever.”
Then the call ends. College has been hell on us. It’s nothing like high school, where we spent all our time together. Ally was always on my arm or by my side. She gave me strength, and I fed off her love. But in the real world, it seems everything is shifting swiftly.
I bend over and grab my bag, tucking my phone back into my worn jeans. The feel of them on my skin soothes me. Jessie and Jules, my mom and dad, tried time and time again to get me new ones. I refused them, loving the feel of worn clothing on my skin. It felt like home and comfort all in one.
I pause mid-step, re-thinking Adam’s invitation. There are several doubts lingering in my mind, but being the leader of my football team isn’t one. Those brothers are mine. Respect flows through us. When we are on the field, it’s about nothing but getting the job done.
I begin texting Adam, letting him know I’ll hang at his place tonight. His parents set him up with a pad that is more like a damn mansion most businessmen crave.
“Ssssshhhh, Jack, he’s going to hear you. Dad, he ruins everything. Can’t you do something?”
I glance up and look around. Jesus, walk throughs must have been a real bitch tonight. I’m beginning to hear things.
“Skew you, Sissy. I see my bubba.”
Again, I look around, and that’s when I see a blur of dark hair, chubby cheeks, and grimy fingers raised up in the air.
“Bubba!”
I step out into the main path of the parking lot, making sure no cars aim his direction, and crouch down, tossing my arms wide.
“Jack.” It’s the first sign of
happiness in my voice.
He picks up speed, bolting straight toward me. My little brother is nearly six years old and is a tank.
“He ruined it, Dad. I told you he would. He ruins everything.” A voice echoes in the background.
I catch Jack in my chest and look up to see my mom, dad, and two little sisters. I’ve trained myself to never cry, but in moments like these, I let it go. These are my people, the ones who saved me.
It never fails to happen. Every single time I’m lost and wondering what the hell I’m doing, my family is there to pick me right up off my ass. They say blood is thicker than water, but I’m here to tell you that’s all shit as I gaze up at my family.
Jessie, my high school coach and idol, made me into the man I am, but it was the woman by his side who made me believe.
Some things never change, and that includes mean and cruel assholes. Freshman year of high school holds a stigma, but for me, it’s far worse than that. I’ve had garbage stuffed in my locker, shit smeared on my PE locker, and tripped five times—all today, the first day of school, and it’s only third hour.
I’ve remained solid and never react, no matter how brutal the punishment. It’s the one thing my mom has taught me over the years. I take it all, square on my shoulders. I’ve been pegged the town trash, and it seems peers and their parents have a great time ridiculing and judging me.
I think about the brand new cleats safely in my backpack. I haven’t let my pack out of my touch all day. Those cleats are my everything. Saved every penny and dime I could to buy them thanks to the grunt work at Gravy Dave’s. I ain’t about to complain since it’s the only place in town that would hire me. Hell, I’m not even good enough to shovel horseshit for local ranchers.
The football tryouts are today, and I’m damn ready to endure all the taunting abuse from the boys in my school. It won’t stop me. Football became my life years ago. It was a time where I could be me and work out my aggression in a healthy manner. One gesture of kindness solidified the fact that I’ll never give up. Papa Jones opened that door for me. He was one hell of a man, always watching out for me until the day he died.