I lean into his ear and whisper, “Let me stay the night.”
Four vibratory thumps rattle through me, and Blake turns sharply to look at the door. I don’t need my ears to tell me what’s going on, so I throw on my sweater and tuck my bra under his couch. Blake tosses on his T-shirt and heads over to see who’s there. He peers through the peephole before opening it wide.
Bryson stands there wild-eyed and pale.
Shit! I jump up and force a smile as I speed to the door.
Everything okay? I sign, even though the only thing I’d like to do with my hands right now is knock a vase over my brother’s head.
I heard you hurt yourself. He signs aggressively as if he’s about to hurt someone himself—namely Blake. What the hell happened?
Wait—how did you know I got hurt? How did you know where to find me?
I glance at Blake, embarrassed that he has to witness the exchange.
Bryson’s ears burn a bright red the way they do when he’s about to blow a gasket. Little does he know, I am, too.
That tutor of yours came into the bar. He mentioned it to Cole while he was getting a drink. I know what you’re thinking, but he wasn’t tattling. This is important, Annie. You need to tell us when things like this happen.
Look at me! I want to scream. I want to claw at my skin and pull my hair out because obviously my brothers are insane. I am fine! Why are you trying so hard to ruin my life?
I’m not ruining your life, Annie. He reels me toward him until I’m standing out in the freezing night air. You’re doing that just fine on your own. Say goodnight. I’ll drive you back to school.
Blake steps outside with us, cradling both my phone and sling in his hand. “Text me.” He nods before wrapping his arms around me. He rubs my shoulders, soft and smooth, his fingers strumming up and down my back like the keys on a piano before letting go.
Bryson leads me to the truck and helps me get inside.
I watch in the rearview mirror as Blake shrinks into the distance. He stands in the freezing night air until we’re out of sight.
I don’t look at my brother. I don’t say goodbye when he drops me off in front of my dorm.
I don’t care if I speak to either Bryson or Holt ever again.
Blake
The sun breaks through the clouds on this early morning as I wait for Annie outside of Prescott Hall. She left her book bag at my place last night, and I wanted to give it to her myself. After Bryson dragged her out of the carriage house by the hair, I took a nice long shower to relieve the pressure. I could have taken her last night. I’m not sure why this scares me, but it does. Was Annie right? Am I treating her differently because of the fact she can’t hear? I’d stake my life that I’m not. If I didn’t know better, the thing that scares me most is letting someone into my life again so completely, especially so soon after losing Benji. But the truth is there wasn’t a cognitive choice regarding letting Annie into my life. She seeped into my heart that first night at the Black Bear. The moment I laid eyes on her, I was infatuated, and that night at the coffee shop I was all in whether or not I wanted to be. There’s not a second that goes by that she’s not on my mind. And on the other side of the coin is Benji. He’s infiltrated my thoughts since the second he left our apartment that night. Little did I know I’d never get a chance to speak to him again—that the shouting match which took place—those last hateful words, would be all we’d ever exchange again on this planet. It hurts like a rotary blade in the gut. Each second I think of the pain I caused him, that he caused me, twists those serrated blades just a little bit deeper. The heart wrenching lesson is love carefully, at any moment the ones you care about can evaporate like smoke.
Annie walks out of the building and waves. Her smile lights up this whole dreary landscape. She outshines the sun with its meager show of affection and pushes Benji back under the surface for just a little while longer.
“Annie.” I race over and pick her up, kissing her on the lips for all to see. I hope her brothers are taking note. I didn’t approve one bit of the way Bryson manhandled her last night like some fucking caveman. But I wanted to give Annie a chance to say her peace. I know she’s perfectly capable of telling him off. Besides, it hurts a hell of a lot more coming from the one you love. I should know. “Your books.”
I texted this morning and let her know I’d be bringing them by.
“Thank you,” she mouths, trying to take them from me, but I pull them back.
“Let me walk you to class.” I motion to the English building. I feel like an ass for not being able to speak to her the way her brothers do. “Will you teach me to sign?”
She bites down on a smile. Her brows furrow a moment as she reaches for her phone. Only if you want to. I think we communicate just fine. In fact, I love reading your lips.
I hold out my hand and nod toward the phone. My lips are grateful you love reading them, but I would very much like to learn.
She takes back the phone. OK. I’ll teach you one day. If you’re good. ;)
I raise a brow at her humor. I think Annie knows that every last part of me wants to be very, very bad where she’s concerned—at least in the bedroom.
Annie happily leads the way to her next class, holding my hand, twisting my fingers with hers, her chest bubbling with her silent brand of laughter. My fingers, my hand, my entire arm electrifies from her touch. An entire series of pinpricks travel up my body from the excitement of having this gorgeous girl by my side. It’s funny because this is normally when you would engage in small talk about the lousy weather or our upcoming plans for Halloween night this Friday, but instead we’re swallowed in silence, and as long as I’m with Annie, holding her hand, I don’t mind one bit. It feels golden, satiating. Every moment with her feels like enough.
She stops in front of the English building and nods to the bodies bustling through the door.
“I guess this is where we part ways.” I carefully place the book bag into her arms. “Did everything go okay with your brother last night?”
Her gaze dips to the concrete as she gives a slight nod. She pulls out her phone and starts typing. He’s threatening to pull the band from the Black Bear. He’s being unreasonable. I reminded him that I’m part owner. He thought I was being cute. Anyway, you’re fine. I think all we need is for my brothers to get to know you a little better. Would you mind coming to my house next Saturday night for dinner? I promise, my mother is harmless. If I can get her to see how wonderful you are, I just know my brothers will back off.
“Meet the family?” I grin like a fool. “I would love to.”
My cell goes off. I spot Olivia’s name before sinking it back into my pocket. The last thing I want to do is explain the heroics I’m attempting in that arena of my life. I know the truth will bubble to the surface sooner than later, but, given the circumstances, I’d rather hold off until after the meet and greet with her family.
“Do you still love me?” I tease.
She pinches her fingers an inch apart, and I close my eyes, a dry laugh buried in my chest.
“I love you,” I say it crisp and clear, and it shreds me that she’ll never hear it.
Annie presses a kiss over my lips that feels like every spring morning—hell, every Christmas morning, I’ve ever had the privilege of. A dull ache goes off in my belly because I know that Benji will never get to meet the girl who stole my heart.
Someone comes up from the side and waves to get her attention, Tristan—the little punk who sent Annie’s brother over in a rage.
Annie gives me another light peck. “See you later,” she mouths as she meets him by the stairs. He sinks his hand against her lower back as if it belonged there. Dude, really? He keeps that up and he’ll be lucky to graduate with limbs. I’m not into other guys touching my girl—for sure not his French ass.
I pull my phone out and check out Olivia’s text.
At the doctor’s. Come quick.
* * *
I speed down to Jepson, nea
rly driving myself off an embankment in the process. I had to take a moment and remind myself no one is better off with me dead at this point—with the exception of Annie’s brothers, but they’re rather pointless themselves.
Olivia’s doctor is located in a building right across from the Jepson Medical Center where she’s due to deliver in a little over a month. In my mind I have a warped vision of what it’s going to be like to hold this tiny human in my arms for the very first time. The first thing I want to do after welcoming the tiny being into this world is apologize for what a cruel and cold place it really is. Then I plan on making an entire slew of promises that involve enjoying this earthly experience to its maximum, starting with loving your family and those God puts by your side because they’re there for a reason even if you think all they aspire to do is annoy you and take up space. That about sums up my relationship with both Ben and my father. Wyatt is a little too removed from my reality but still a vital cog that keeps this wheel known as my life spinning. I want to give this child—my child, the world. And I can’t imagine doing that without Annie by my side. A thousand ways to break the news to her formulate in my mind and fail to launch just as quickly. What in the hell is Annie going to think? I can hardly support myself at this stage of the game let alone a child who requires round the clock care and a steady stream of diapers. And what would Annie’s role be in this mess? Do I really expect her to step in as some maternal figure to a child she’ll meet in just a few weeks? The timing couldn’t be worse, but that’s my life all over.
I race into the office, and the receptionist takes me to the back where I find Olivia in a darkened room lying on a table in a paper gown. She looks sickly and pale, dark circles ring under her eyes, and her lips look deflated, her fingers hang off the side of the table, flaccid as if she has one foot in the grave.
“You came this close to missing the show.” She holds out her hand, and I take it. “Pull up a seat.”
“What’s going on? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” I want to shake both her and the ultra sound tech just hoping the answers will fall out of them like hard to get change from the belly of a piggy bank.
“Why don’t you tell him the news?” Olivia looks to the woman administering the ultra sound. Her translucent gray hair is wrapped in a bun, and I can’t help but think it looks like someone plucked a jellyfish out of an aquarium and plopped it on her head.
“News?” I can’t handle any bad news at this point. The universe has to know that any more crap “news” will simply fucking have to go to someone else. Losing my brother, my best friend, was enough pain and agony for two lifetimes, both his and mine.
The older woman crinkles her dry lips. “This, right here, is your baby.” She pulls the instrument over Olivia’s glistening stomach, and a shadowy image appears over the screen. A beautiful face, full cheeks, tiny lips that appear to be moving.
The room takes on a new energy. The world warps and twists, bending its own ear and willful gaze to the tiny little being projected onto the oversized screen.
“My God.” It’s all I can say. It’s all that’s needed. Set before me is a true miracle.
Tears come to my eyes, and I wipe them away. I watch as the tiny limbs move while the baby twists lethargically from one position to the next.
“Would you like to know the gender?” The tech moves the image toward the murky face again, not wanting to give anything away without permission.
First, I was simply having a baby, and now the final piece of the puzzle is available to us at last. A baby always sounded a little nebulous in nature, but assigning it a gender is something indelible that stays with you forever. You can say I have a son or I have a daughter for the rest of your days, but I’m having a baby is strictly relegated to the here and now.
“Do you want to know?” I look to Olivia. Her dark hair is pulled back in a bun with shards spearing from all sides like a series of sharpened blades. Her lips are impeccably drawn in, cartoonish in nature with the outline ten shades darker than what she chose to color them in with. Her eyes are painted like a cat’s with the wingtips on her upper lid transcending too far past her brows. Olivia devotes hours to perfecting her look each day, worshiping hard at the altar of her vanity. It’s hard to believe she’s going to be a mother—that she could potentially be in charge of the wellbeing of another living soul. But I suppose, at the end of the legal day, she isn’t going to be more than a bodily warehouse that wants nothing more than to have its interior vacated and tightened to perfection once again. Olivia hasn’t cared for anyone’s needs but her own for the ten years I’ve known her. Benji knew it and pointed it out often, but it didn’t stop me from spending time with her.
“I already know what the little shit is.” Olivia plucks out a cigarette from her purse without looking. “Don’t get your asshole in a knot. It’s not lit. I just need something to do with my hands. You have my word.” She shears the air with her comments as if they were a threat. But those last few words came out laced with drama, dripping with sarcasm.
Olivia’s word is useless. That’s the one worldly truth this baby can cling to.
“I guess if you already know then I want to know.” I’m not sure how Olivia purports to know since the tech just asked as if we were equally uninformed, but, deep down, a part of me is curious whether I’ll be sitting in the stands for football practice or hanging out in the wings during ballet rehearsal. My heart starts with the dramatics, first trying to jump up my throat then throwing itself around my ribcage like a punk rocker in a mosh pit. My body heats up ten degrees, and my back feels as if it might combust. From now until eternity this being is going to be set in stone, boy or girl, it all happens now. I wish to God Annie was with me, holding my hand.
“Congratulations to the both of you.” The silver-haired woman grins for a brief moment without taking her gaze from the screen. The blue light from the monitor reflects in her glasses, and all I see is the baby blipping in and out of existence in this shadowed game of hide-n-seek. “You’re having a boy.”
“A boy.” My voice cracks. A boy, just like Ben and me. I take a deep breath. I can do this. Olivia and I can do this. She can parent from the sidelines for all I care, but every kid should at least meet their mother.
The ultrasound tech wipes the goo from Olivia’s belly before leaving the room.
“It’s a boy.” I pull Olivia into a tight embrace whether she wants in on it or not. Her arms wrap around my back and linger. That’s familiar territory for Olivia. She’s a man-eater, and I’m not too sure how many men she’s been devouring since she’s been with child, but by the way her limbs are still wrapped around mine, she’s been missing the human touch. Then the unthinkable happens. Olivia breaks down in sobs, deep wells of stored emotion. All of the pent up grief she’s harbored for the past few months lets loose like a flood, and she drenches my shoulder with her pain. The glacier that is Olivia Cameron is starting to crack, and the boiling pot of water that’s causing the thaw just happens to be stowed away in her belly.
“We can do this.” I pull back and gently wipe her tears away.
Her eyes are twin pools of crimson. Her lips are bloated, her cheeks fuller than ever before. I loved her once. Then everything got fucked up, and here we are. But that doesn’t mean we can’t meet in the middle and shepherd this sweet baby boy through the thorny trails of life.
She nods pulling herself up to a sitting position. “You can do this.”
I touch my hand to her hard belly. “And I will.”
* * *
Halloween night at the Black Bear is a funfest and a mind fuck all at once. Hanging bats, floating ghosts, girls dressed like strippers under the loose guise of a Disney princess. My head throbs just trying to make my way through the crowd in the dimly lit room. I’m a thousand percent certain that the fire code has been exceeded twice over because in all the months we’ve performed here, I’ve never seen it so thick with bodies.
Annie sits on the table with her back straig
ht against the wall, a butterfly with her wings pinned to the wax board. She’s beautiful—ethereal with her hair loose and wild. Her camera pointed at every direction at once. She reminds me of Benji that way, always observing the world through the lens. The eternal observer. The overseer of all things chaos.
I’ve been meaning to retrieve Benji’s camera from my father’s hovel. That is if it’s still there, if it hasn’t been lifted by Jeff the boarder and pawned for cash—rolled into a blunt, gone up in smoke like my brother. Ben mentioned he left it at Pop’s somewhere in the middle closet while hanging out there for a few nights. He also mentioned it might be at Olivia’s, and, if that’s the case, it’s a lost cause. Olivia will probably want cash for it, but that’s just because she’s Olivia. She’s a taker in every capacity. It doesn’t surprise me anymore. Or at least it shouldn’t.
The lyrics stream out of my mouth on autopilot, but I can’t take my eyes off Annie. She’s beautiful on a daily basis but tonight she’s a vixen, and my entire body is begging for one more hit of what we shared earlier this week. She’s wearing tiny black cat ears, a tight black top, and matching jeans, a long furry tail and kitten heels to complete the look. I can see the whiskers painted on her cheeks from here, and that delicious pink mouth I want to cover with mine. Annie is no girl, she’s all woman, and I’m dying to make her mine, pin her to my wax board with my body. I can’t help it. I don’t give a shit if her brothers are in the room. If they’re loading their sawed off shotguns while I sing every song of the night directly to her.
The last set begins as it nears midnight.
The crowd pushes against the stage. Girls wearing not much more than lingerie hop up next to me, gyrating what their mama’s gave them, grinding their hips into my legs. Where the hell is security? At the very least, the Edwards brothers should pluck them off with an oversized net. The slutty cop, the sexed-up schoolgirl, and an entire slew of half-dressed princesses dangle from my limbs.