Surviving Us

  There. That’s all of the getting ready I’m doing today.

  Following a quick bowl of cereal, I set my laptop up on the kitchen table, needing to finish the article on the quarterback possibilities for the remainder of the season before I leave. I spent a good part of last night researching the two other guys on the roster, who are both true freshman, which is far from ideal.

  An hour or two in, I’m plugging away and my phone dings with a text message. I can only hope Kayden has thought better of today and decided to cancel, but as I grab it and see that it’s Mo, I realize I couldn’t be so lucky.

  Mo: What time are you going to be at BBQ?

  Me: Should be there a little after 3.

  Mo: Still bringing your friend?

  I groan and shake my head, frustrated. I can already tell this is going to be a bad idea. I’d told Mo all about Kayden last night when he came over after my dinner. At first he thought Kayden was ‘the one’ from St. Lucia who had shown up, but I quickly explained it wasn’t. Since Mo plays for the team and has always been a fan of OU football, I don’t want to tell him who it really is, because he’d probably recognize the name, and I just don’t want to go down that path.

  Me: Yeah, I guess.

  Mo: Tell him you’re sick. I don’t want to share you today. Plus, I have a surprise.

  I laugh to myself, wishing I could lie and be okay with it.

  Me: A surprise? For me?

  Mo: Not for you exactly, more like for the whole school.

  Me: Huh? That doesn’t sound very exclusive. What is it? Tell me.

  I can’t think of what surprise he could possibly have for the whole school.

  Mo: Nope. You’ll see this afternoon. It’ll make the Sara Walsh in you happy.

  Me: Oh, so it’s sports-related? Now you’re talking my language. I can’t wait!

  Mo: See you soon, Flaca!

  My interest is officially piqued, and my mind wanders to what it could be. Maybe after a second set of tests on Blackmon’s knee, it’s not as bad as they thought and he won’t have to miss significant time.

  Yep. I bet that’s it.

  My eyes flit back over to my computer screen, pondering if all the work I’m doing is for naught. Oh well, I’ll sacrifice a few hours of pointless work if it means our team is back with full-power.

  “Hey, Bristol, can I borrow your nude strapless bra? My underwire is poking out of mine and stabbing me.” Alyvia’s freely bouncing boobs are prancing towards me, completely cutting off my train of thought. She’s only wearing short white shorts and a joker’s smile, with no qualms whatsoever about showing off her perky assets.

  “Yes, of course, wild child! My goodness,” I reply, failing to contain my laughter at her crazy antics. “You know which drawer.”

  “Thank you!” she yells out as she disappears into my room. “And it’s almost two thirty, in case you lost track of time.”

  I confirm the time on the bottom corner of my computer screen, and then finish the paragraph I was working on before saving and shutting down. Just as I’m standing up from the table to put everything away, Lyv comes bounding out of my room, still topless, but with a bra in one hand and a navy velvet pouch in the other.

  My heart sinks. I didn’t even think about that being in there when I told her to go dig in my drawer. “B, why don’t you ever wear these? This necklace and bracelet set matches what you’re wearing today perfectly, and this little anklet is adorable.”

  She has no idea the emotions she’s stirring by bringing those items out, but as soon as she notices the expression on my face and the pooling tears, her eyes grow wide with an apology before her mouth does.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” She rushes over to me and throws her arms around me. “I should’ve known they were in there for a special reason. I just didn’t think.”

  “It’s okay,” I mumble into her shoulder. “I’m overreacting . . . just being silly.” As I step back away from her, I realize she was hugging me with her naked breasts pressed against my chest, which makes me chuckle lightly. “Go get some damn clothes on. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure? I didn’t mean to upset you.” She cocks her head with concern. “I promise.”

  Taking a deep breath, I command a smile on my face and pluck the green and yellow beaded necklace and bracelet from her hand. “I know, and to prove it to both you and me, I’ll wear these today.”

  As I put both pieces of jewelry on, her look of concern lightens and she offers a small smile. “I’m so proud of you, and they do match phenomenally.”

  I smile back, feeling pretty damn proud of myself too. “Great! Now please go get dressed. Lucky’s gonna be here soon, and I need to leave.”

  “Lucky likes my boobs,” she contends playfully, lifting her hands to cup her bare mounds.

  Shaking my head with a grin, I turn around to pick up my phone and keys off of the table. “I’m sure Lucky doesn’t like other people looking at your boobs.”

  “He wouldn’t mind if it’s you. Guys like hot lesbian action, right?”

  “I love ya, Lyv,” I kiss her on the cheek as I walk by on the way to the front door, “but I’m done with this conversation. I’ll see you there.”

  “Thanks again for the bra!” she calls after me, the amusement heavy in her voice.

  “Wear it!” I retort.

  I hear her laugh before I close the door behind me.

  At three o’clock on the dot, I pull in front of Kayden’s hotel with an inexplicable sense of dread in my stomach. He’s waiting outside the main entrance of the lobby, wearing pressed khaki shorts, a pastel pink polo, and loafers, dressed more like he’s going to play golf at a fancy country club than an outdoor shindig at a frat house.

  I should’ve listened to Mo and told him I was sick.

  Kayden hurries over to the car as soon as he sees me, flashing a huge smile as he opens the passenger door. “Hey, you,” he says over-cheerfully, sliding onto the leather seat. “How’s your Sunday been?”

  “It’s been good. I had a lot of studying and work for the paper to do this morning,” I reply, hoping the friendly tone in my voice doesn’t sound too fake. “How about you?”

  “I drove into the city and did some of the touristy stuff. I ate brunch at one of the restaurants at Bricktown, and then found this pretty interesting Cowboy and Western museum I wandered through.”

  Nodding, I keep my eyes focused on the road ahead of me. “Funny,” I titter, “I’ve lived here all my life and never once been in any of the museums there.”

  “You should go—history, culture, and all that important shit.”

  “Yeah, I should.”

  I turn the radio volume up as the conversation quickly grows stale, uncertain if the silence is truly uncomfortable or if it’s just me. Kayden and I have been friends for so long; I hate that I feel like this around him. I’m just not sure what he was expecting when he showed up here.

  Thankfully, the drive to the party is short and sweet. Due to our late arrival, I’m forced to park the car a little ways down the street, which wouldn’t be so bad if walking in the oppressive late summer heat didn’t feel like wearing fleece in a sauna. By the time we reach the house, my clothes are plastered to my body thanks to a generous layer of sweat-based adhesive blanketing my skin.

  I need a cold drink. Stat.

  Kayden allows me to lead him around the side of the home where loud music bumps a popular bass line into the air. As soon as we turn the corner, we’re greeted by a decent-sized group of my fellow Sooners hanging out, most everyone with a red Solo cup in their hand.

  I smile and wave at familiar faces while I continue to scan the crowd for either Alyvia or Mo. Finally, I see Mo’s big head across the yard in the center of a small group, probably other teammates. With a little pep in my step, I take off towards him, checking behind me once to make sure Kayden is keeping up with me. Manners, Bristol, manners.

  As we near the cluster of people surrounding Mo, the guy standing next t
o him turns his head slightly in my direction, and as our eyes lock onto each other’s, everything around me stops.

  I stop walking,

  stop breathing,

  and my heart stops beating.

  FROM THE MOMENT I SEE Davis, it’s as if everything happens in slow motion.

  The corners of his lips gradually curl up into the same cocky smile that appears almost every night in my dreams, putting his dimples on full display, reviving my shocked heart back to life. His eyes shift from me to the right, honing in on something, or someone, next to me. The smile quickly transforms into a scowl, then a menacing glare. He swings his gaze back to me, shakes his head, and then storms off in the opposite direction.

  “I thought you said you haven’t heard from him since you’ve been back?” Kayden murmurs lowly over my shoulder.

  “I hadn’t.”

  Davis stalking away catches Mo’s attention, so he stops talking and swivels his head around to see what happened. When he sees me, his face lights up and he enthusiastically waves me over to him.

  “Come on,” I instruct Kayden. “Let’s go find out what the hell is going on.”

  All thirty-three steps it takes me to get to where Mo is, I try to make sense of what’s going on, why Davis is here, but my brain is such a convoluted mess of disbelief and overwhelming emotion that nothing is adding up.

  “Flaca!” Mo yells excitedly and raises his cup in the air. “You made it!”

  He wraps his big, burly arms around me, lifting me off the ground in his overzealous embrace. Once he returns me to my feet, he smiles at Kayden and extends his free hand. “You must be Kayden. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The two shake hands and exchange a friendly welcome, and then Mo does a quick rundown of everyone’s name for Kayden’s benefit, as if he’s going to remember them all.

  With his attention back on me, Mo playfully pulls one of my braids. “Well, your surprise was standing right here, but he took off for some reason. He should be back soon.”

  I stand there and look at him dumbfounded, my face expressionless, my voice unable to speak.

  “Are you okay, Flaca? Do you need something to drink?” he asks with alarm.

  Kayden graciously seizes the moment and pipes up. “I’ll go grab us all some drinks. Where’s the keg?”

  Mo points him in the direction of the cups and beer before returning his scrutinizing eyes to mine. “What’s going on, Bristol? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Is the guy already being a complete douche? ‘Cause you know I’ll ask him to leave. I’ve got no problems telling an old dude off.”

  “Why is he here?” I ask in a voice barely above a whisper.

  He scrunches his brow, obviously confused. “You’re the one who brought him, silly girl.”

  I shake my head rapidly. “No, not Kayden. Why is Davis McKay here? Did you invite him?” I suck on my bottom lip to keep it from trembling; it’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to burst into tears. “How did you know?”

  “Great job on knowing who Davis is. See, I told you you’re a kick-ass sports journalist.” He grins brightly, not picking up on my anguish. “And how did I know what?”

  Swallowing back the knot of emotion in the back of my throat, I realize he doesn’t know, has no clue. “Davis. He’s the guy I met this summer in St. Lucia. The one.”

  Mo’s eyes grow as wide as saucers and his jaw falls open. “No fucking way.”

  “Yes fucking way,” I snap. “Now why is he here?”

  “Oh my God, Flaca, I’m s-so sorry,” he stammers, pausing to take a long drink. “He showed up this morning at practice. Coach announced he’s going to be our new quarterback. I had no idea you knew him. That was your surprise.”

  My hands cover my face as my thoughts spiral out of control. What in the world just happened? Is he really here for good? Is this all a fantasy dream come true, or a horrible nightmare?

  “Here’s a beer, Bristol,” Kayden announces as he rejoins us.

  I drop my hands, taking the cup from him and offering a soft “thank you” in the process. Glancing around, Davis is nowhere to be found, and suddenly I’m worried about what he’s thinking, seeing me here with Kayden of all people.

  Mo tries to start up small talk with Kayden about living in New York City, but I can’t pay attention. I need to talk to Davis and find out what is really going on.

  Thankfully, Kayden senses my distress, and although we haven’t even been there half an hour, he looks at his phone and suddenly claims to have had some work pop up that must be attended to.

  “Bristol, would you mind taking me back to the hotel? I really need to get on my laptop and get this sorted before my early flight in the morning.”

  “Are you sure? I know we just got here, and you really wanted to hang out.”

  “I’m positive. I may even need to change my flight back to tonight.” He rests his hand on my shoulder and smiles an understanding smile. “I came to see you and make sure you were doing okay. I hope my being here didn’t, or doesn’t, cause you any issues. All I want is for you to be happy, baby girl.”

  “Thank you, Kay.”

  I inform Mo I’m taking Kayden to his hotel and I’ll be back to sort this all out, but make him promise not to say a word to Davis about me nor tell Lyv what’s going on whenever she shows up. Mo’s already beating himself up over something he has no control over, and I hate that.

  Our drive back to the hotel is silent. I’m still trying to regain my composure over Davis’ abrupt appearance, and I’m sure Kayden is simply being nice enough to give me the time. I bring the car to a stop in front of his hotel, feeling terrible about everything.

  “I’m sorry, Kayden,” I apologize sincerely. “This has all been so unexpected—you showing up, him showing up, all of it. I feel like I’m on a bad reality TV show or something.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. And anytime you need to talk, I’m only a touch of a button away.” He leans over the middle console and kisses my cheek.

  “Bye, Kay.”

  “Bye, baby girl.”

  Twenty total minutes is how long it took me to drive Kayden back to his hotel and to return to the BBQ. Throughout the entire trip, I think of all the things I want to say to him, all of the questions I have for him. I’m livid but ecstatic, outraged but hopeful. I’m mad at myself for already wanting to forgive him, and he hasn’t even apologized.

  However, when I walk back into the backyard, Davis is now holding court in the middle of the festivities with a decent-sized group around him, including a bunch of the football players and a slew of sleazily-clad frat rats, all looking to get their hands on fresh meat. Whatever story he’s telling has them all throwing their head back with laughter, opening their painted dick-suckers wide as they howl in delight and overtly shaking their barely-covered tits in his direction.

  Almost as if he senses my presence, he stops talking, looks up at me with a wicked smirk on his face, and then motions me over with his hand, causing everyone else to turn their head and see who he’s beckoning. I cross my arms over my chest, staying exactly where I am, and shake my head, my face burning hot with embarrassment. Instantly, I sense something’s not right.

  “Come over here, Bristol,” he shouts out, his voice evidently slurred from the alcohol. “We’re having story time. You should definitely join us. ”

  “Nah, I’m good. Come find me later; we can talk then.” I turn around to go find either Alyvia or Mo, but not before he cripples me with his next two sentences.

  “You can be next if you want! I think you should tell us all a story about a girl who’s scared of the rain, or maybe one about a lying bitch who enjoys playing with people’s feelings!”

  My head snaps around in the blink of an eye and I glare at him, wishing I could kill him with my look alone. What in the fuck is his problem? The rage inside me has my blood at a boiling point, and I have to count backwards from ten to keep myself from flying over the grass and slapping him acr
oss the face.

  I’m not sure how long we stand there, piercing each other with our intense stares, everyone watching our heated exchange, but finally, I find my voice. “I’m sure you’re doing a great job of keeping everyone entertained with the ‘How to Be the Biggest Dick Anywhere You Go’ story,” I yell back with a fake smile. Then, pivoting on the ball of my foot, I spin around toward the house, devastated and destroyed.

  Unfortunately, I don’t make it inside before I hear him retort, “You never seemed to mind my big dick!”

  Alyvia and Lucky are waiting for me on the porch, having witnessed the entire scene, and usher me inside to the kitchen. I’m not sure where Mo is, but I’m too distraught to care. I honestly can’t believe Davis not only just acted like that, but said something so cruel. Is this why he’s here? To hurt me more than I already am?

  “Do you know who that is?” I ask her incredulously.

  She nods. “Yeah, Mo warned me.”

  Fucking Mo doesn’t listen worth a shit.

  “Here.” A shot glass is shoved in front of my face—I’m not even sure by who—and without a second thought, I slug it back in one gulp, barely feeling the burning liquid slide down my throat.

  “Again,” I demand as I slam it down on the counter.

  Another shot is poured and I repeat the motion, this time welcoming the scorching fire that trickles into my chest.

  “Again,” I insist.

  “Bristol, please slow down, babe,” Alyvia warns cautiously, tenderly touching my forearm. “You’re upset, and rightfully so, but—”

  “Don’t even, Lyv,” I cut her off, snatching my arm out of her grasp. “I’ve made it the last twelve years without a mom; I sure as fuck don’t need you trying to be one to me now.”

  I grab the tequila bottle myself and pour another shot, and then another. The warm, tingling sensation quickly begins to envelop my entire body, soothing the frayed nerves and offering a temporary emotional numbness.