Until Friday Night

  CHAPTER 8

  WEST

  It was the first time in my life I’d played a game without my dad there. Our win was the only thing the others were thinking about when it was over, so luckily, no one noticed except Brady. I’d shrugged it off and told him Dad wasn’t feeling well.

  I ran in two touchdowns, but my dad wasn’t there to see them. He hadn’t been in his spot cheering me on. He hadn’t been at the fence with his big grin when I came running to the sidelines. He hadn’t been there because he’d had a fever and was on so much pain medicine, he wasn’t even lucid.

  He hated taking the pain meds—he liked being there mentally with us —but he’d been in so much pain last night, Mom had forced him to take them. Then, when he finally went to sleep, she’d fallen into my arms and sobbed. I had never seen her like that before, had never seen her break down.

  Facing today’s game had been the last thing I wanted to do. Knowing I would get to go home and tell my dad about it had been the only way I’d been able to play. I wanted to tell him something that would make him smile. I wanted him to believe in me. He and I had shared my dreams for so long. I didn’t want him to know I was losing those dreams. Because without him, I wouldn’t care anymore.

  Not to mention Mom would need me when he was gone.

  I hadn’t looked for Raleigh after the game. I’d gone straight to my truck, determined to get the hell away from all of them. All their joy over our win. I couldn’t be happy. My dad hadn’t been there. Winning didn’t mean as much anymore.

  Facing my dad while my emotions were so raw wasn’t a good idea. But going to the field party where the team would be celebrating seemed fucking pointless. I couldn’t celebrate. I just wanted to forget. I wanted my old life back. I wanted my dad healthy.

  After driving around for almost an hour, lost in the pain that had become part of me, my truck drove down the familiar dirt road to the field party. It was here or home, and I couldn’t go home just yet. I needed a few beers, and I needed to forget.

  Everyone was already here. The loud shouts and laughter had once been welcome sounds. Now I hated them. None of my friends had worries except winning a football game. They didn’t know what fear was. None of them. These were the best fucking years of their lives. Once, they’d been mine, too.

  I closed my truck door and stared at the bonfire through the trees. I would have to walk in there and put on a smile I didn’t feel. I would have to talk about a game I played with everything I had but only because I wanted to be able to tell my dad about it. Not because my heart was in it.

  I didn’t fit in anymore. With any of them.

  But where else would I go?

  Drinking would ease the pain some. Nothing would take it all away.

  I would pretend. It was what I did best lately.

  Heading into the open field, I found a beer and made my way over to my friends. Raleigh was here already. I could see her over with the soccer boys. I knew she was mad, and that was her way of getting back at me. I just didn’t care.

  “Where you been, man? We’ve been replaying the awesomeness that was Ashby tonight, and you weren’t even here to glory in it!” Ryker yelled out to me as I walked toward them.

  “Had some things to do first,” I replied with a grin that hinted I’d been doing someone rather than somethings. I’d let them think what they wanted. Anything but the truth.

  Laughter followed my comment.

  “Guess that’s why Raleigh moved over to soccer boy land,” Nash replied. He’d been pissed at me for a day or two, but after practice on Thursday we’d both agreed I was right. He had to focus on football not Brady’s cousin.

  I shrugged and took a seat down on the tractor tire that Ryker was sitting on. “Whatever,” I replied.

  Next to me, Ryker started talking. “But seriously, Nash. You got to quit looking for her. She’s okay. She’s here, and she’s not your business. Brady will be back in a minute with Ivy’s drink, and if he thinks you’re looking for his cousin, he’ll get pissy.”

  I turned my attention to Nash. I thought he had backed off that.

  Nash held up both his hands. “Easy, I was just seeing who was here. Not looking for anyone.”

  “Bullshit,” Ryker muttered.

  “She’s here?” I asked, wondering why she came to these parties if she was just going to hide in the corner.

  “Brady said his momma made him bring her. She doesn’t want to come. He feels bad for her,” Ivy said with a shrug, as if she couldn’t care less.

  “Pisses me off that he doesn’t let her sit with us.” Nash sounded aggravated.

  “Not. Your. Business,” was Ryker’s response. I wanted to agree with Ryker, but Nash was right too. Brady was wrong just bringing her here and leaving her all alone. It was cruel.

  “Uh-oh, here comes drama,” Ivy said with a smile, then looked at me.

  “Well, shi-it,” Ryker drawled as I turned to see Raleigh walking our way.

  Her hair was messy from fooling around with the soccer guy. What was she heading over here for? I liked her better over there.

  “Y’all confuse the hell out of me,” Nash said. “Today at the pep rally I thought she was going to suck your face off. Now she’s sucking someone else’s face off.”

  I grabbed my beer and stood up. I was leaving. I didn’t want her shit tonight. I had bigger issues than Raleigh.

  “I’m out,” I said.

  “You leaving?”

  “Already?”

  “You did that last week!”

  They all seemed surprised. I just nodded and held up my beer. “Good game. Let’s own this season,” I said, then headed to the woods and my truck.

  I Have Nightmares Every Night

  CHAPTER 9

  MAGGIE

  I sat on the back of Brady’s truck, watching my feet swing back and forth. The noise from the party wasn’t as loud back here. Tonight Brady hadn’t driven his truck up to the party; he’d left it parked with the other vehicles in the wooded area just off the dirt road. I knew it was because he wanted me to have somewhere to stay. He was trying to make this easier on me. He’d even brought me a bowl of pretzels and a soda a little while ago. He’d seemed concerned. But all of a sudden some girl with long dark hair drove up, and he got angry. He stalked off after that.

  The girl just stood there for a while, staring after Brady before getting back into her car and driving away. Strange. I had never seen her before.

  “You might have the best seat in the place.” West Ashby’s voice startled me. “Don’t mind me. I’m just tired of acting like I give a shit out there. I needed to be alone. Since you don’t talk, that makes it better. Someone I can talk to who keeps quiet. Might be fucking perfect.” He took a long drink of his beer then sat down beside me on the truck bed.

  Was he drunk? He had to be. Surely, he was aware that I was the last person who wanted to be his company. I wasn’t his friend. I would never be his friend.

  “Maybe I should stop talking. Then I wouldn’t have to pretend to give a fucking shit. Bet that’s easy, huh? Not having to react to anything. I envy you.”

  Envy me? Seriously? He was going to sit here and make jabs at me when he didn’t even know me. He had no clue why I chose not to speak. To say he envied me made me want to stand up and scream in his face. No one on earth should ever envy me. Ever.

  “But I did hear some stuff that, if it’s true, maybe your shit’s worse than mine.” He shook his head and sighed. “Naw, probably ain’t. Gunner’s momma is a gossip. Half the stuff comes out of her mouth is false. God knows she’s talked about my momma enough.”

  He looked as if he were talking to himself now. His eyes were focused on something out in the darkness. Pain was etched across his face. He wasn’t trying to hide anything out here, not like he did all the other times I’d been around him. This was the first time I really saw him, the guy he didn’t reveal to anyone. His mask was gone, and there was heaviness in his voice and darkness in his eyes. r />
  “Didn’t come to my game tonight. He couldn’t. Hell, he can’t even go to the damn bathroom without help now. Much less watch me play. First time in my life he hasn’t watched me play. Every touchdown I scored I did it for him. So I’d have something good to tell him tonight. But here I sit like a fucking pussy because going home to see him scares the hell out of me.”

  Him who? I wanted to ask but was afraid to. His emotions were too raw. This wasn’t the jerk he showed the world. This was the guy underneath that. He was allowing me to see him. His pain. His fears. But why?

  “When I was born, Momma said he brought a football to the hospital for me. Ran right out and bought it when they said it was a boy. He put it in my crib with me from that day on. I loved football, but it was because I loved him. He’s always been my hero. Now he’s gonna fucking leave me. And Momma.” He let out a hard laugh clearly full of agony. “How’s she gonna make it? He’s her world. Always has been. I can’t imagine my momma without my dad. She’ll be so lost. I won’t be enough. I just—” He dropped his head in his hands and let out a groan. “Fuck, I’m scared, Maggie. You know what it’s like, to be scared?” he asked, lifting his head to look at me for the first time.

  I knew. I knew all too well. I knew terror and fear. I knew demons that haunted you at night instead of the sweet dreams we believed in as children. I knew more than he could imagine.

  I nodded. “Yes,” I whispered hoarsely, desperate to assure him he wasn’t alone. My voice sounded strange yet familiar.

  This was the second time I had spoken to him. Once because he infuriated me, and now because I understood he needed to know he wasn’t alone. Pain came to all of us at some time or another. It was how we learned to cope with it that determined our future. In this moment I chose to speak. Silence was normally how I coped, but for the first time since I’d witnessed my father kill my mother, I wanted to speak. I wanted to reassure someone else.

  His eyes widened. “You talked,” he said, staring at me intently. “Again.”

  I didn’t say anything in response. I had spoken because he needed me to. But to talk, just for conversation? I couldn’t do that. I was still afraid to hear my voice.

  “Is it true? About what Gunner told me . . . Did you see your dad . . .” He trailed off. He knew my past. Someone had found out and was spreading it around. I knew it would happen eventually.

  I thought about my answer. I didn’t talk about that night with anyone. Remembering was too hard. Too painful for any human to endure. But West was losing a parent too.

  So I nodded. I wouldn’t give him any more than that. I couldn’t put into words what I’d seen. Not again.

  “Shit. That’s tough,” was all he said.

  We sat there in silence for several minutes, staring off into the darkness.

  “My dad’s dying. Doctors can’t do anything for him anymore. Sent him home to just . . . die. Every day I watch him fall away a little more. Further from our grasp. Further from us. He’s in so much pain, and there isn’t anything I can do. I’m afraid to go to school because, what if he dies while I’m gone and I never see him again? But then, like right fucking now, I’m afraid to go home because he may have gotten worse and then I’d have to see that. I have to see the man I adore wasting away. Leaving this life. Leaving us.”

  My mother’s death had been fast. Immediate. She hadn’t suffered except for that one moment I was screaming at my dad to stop while he pointed a gun at her. I know she suffered then. She suffered for me and what I would see.

  But I didn’t know what it felt like to watch a parent die slowly before your eyes. To go to sleep at night and not know if they’d be there the next morning. My heart ached for him. Losing someone you loved was hard. The hardest thing in life. West wasn’t a nice person. He could be downright cruel. But the emotion in his voice was hard to ignore. I didn’t want to feel anything for him, even sorrow, but I did.

  “No one knows,” he continued. “I can’t tell them. All they know is, Dad had surgery and is on disability now. He doesn’t work anymore. I blew it off when I told them, like it was no big thing.” He laughed again, a hard, brutal sound that held no humor. “These women in this town never accepted my momma She ain’t got any friends to talk to except your aunt, and I don’t think she’s even told Coralee. When Dad’s gone . . . I’ll be it. How do I do that? How can I be enough?”

  Nothing I could do would ease this pain. Nothing anyone could do would make it better. So I reached over with my hand and covered his. It was the only thing I knew to do. Other than speak, and he didn’t need that. I wasn’t sure I could anyway.

  He started to turn his hand over to hold mine when he stopped and pulled away. Then he stood up as if he were going to leave. I didn’t want him to leave like this. He had opened up to me about the demons he was facing. He had laid his secrets bare. He would go home to that nightmare and live it again and again until it was over. He didn’t want to tell anyone, yet he’d told me. Had he seen in my eyes what I’d seen in his? The sorrow and anger? The regret and suffering?

  “I have nightmares every night,” I said. “I see my mother die over and over.”

  Keeping Quiet Is How I Survive

  CHAPTER 10

  WEST

  She hadn’t whispered this time. The sweet Southern drawl in her voice was beautiful. It wasn’t high-pitched, just a touch deeper.

  The words she’d spoken were so incredibly revealing, it hurt to think about her reliving something like that every night. I didn’t know what to say to her. My dad was dying of cancer. It was ripping me apart. But she’d seen her father murder her mother. That kind of brutality was beyond anything I could imagine.

  She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath. I watched her closely, unable to take my gaze off her. I was afraid she’d move or vanish. And I needed her. Right now at least, I needed someone to know my pain. Someone to understand it.

  “It never leaves you . . . the hurt,” she said as she opened her eyes to look at me. “But you learn to live and you learn to deal with the loss. You do what you have to survive.”

  I understood now. Why she didn’t talk . . . why she remained mute. It was about not reliving that moment. Not talking or laughing. Just keeping to herself. Until now. With me.

  “You’re talking to me. Why me?”

  Her gaze flicked over my shoulder, and I could see the sorrow in her eyes. “Because you needed me to. You need to know someone else has lived through pain like yours.”

  I took a step toward her. “When you lost your mom, was someone there for you?” I asked, hoping she said yes. I didn’t like the idea of her battling this kind of horror alone.

  She looked back at me. “No. No one understood. No one saw what I did. No one lived through what I had. I would have talked to them. But there was no one to understand. Keeping quiet is how I survived.”

  I kept quiet too. Just not the way she did. I kept my father’s illness a secret. I didn’t have friends over, and I didn’t tell them what was happening. My dad had still been fine last year when I’d had a party at my house the week after spring training. Then this summer things started going downhill. The last three weeks they had gone from bad to worse.

  Eventually everyone would find out, I knew that. This wasn’t a secret I could keep forever. But I didn’t want to tell them. I didn’t want to see the sympathy in their eyes. I didn’t want them trying to console me when they didn’t understand.

  “Maggie!” Brady’s voice came through the darkness. I saw Maggie tense up and give me a small smile before getting off the truck bed and heading toward her cousin’s voice. She hadn’t wanted him to catch me out here with her.

  But I hadn’t been ready to see her go.

  All weekend I found myself thinking about Maggie. When Dad would get sick, I reminded myself that I was strong enough to handle this. I would be there for my mother. I wasn’t a scared little boy anymore. If Maggie could survive what she had seen, I needed to man up and be what my
dad needed.

  Monday morning I left my mother tucked in beside my dad’s frail body and headed to school with Maggie on my mind. Her voice had been in my head, reminding me that the pain was something I had to learn to deal with. I had to make it through the nightmare I was living. She was a walking testament to the fact I could do this.

  Seeing her standing at the locker beside mine was a relief. I had needed to see her. We had talked all of ten minutes, and already I had grown attached to her. She understood. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed that. Someone to understand.

  “Morning,” I said as I moved to stand next to her and open my locker.

  She glanced at me and smiled. But nothing more. No words. No smooth, warm voice to calm me. Just a small smile. Fuck that. I wanted to hear her talk.

  “You not gonna talk to me?” I asked, still watching her in case she whispered and I missed it.