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Authors: Megan Smith

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BOOK: Surviving Regret
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I shrug and open the door wider allowing her to come in. I’m here by myself still, Colton’s at the party and probably going home with that chick he was talking to earlier.

Macy and I do the same dance we’ve done so many other times. I sit on the end of my bed in only my boxers as Macy strips off her clothes and climbs in behind me. But there’s something else here, I can feel it. She’s afraid I’ve pulled away altogether tonight. This is her testing me out. She wants to make sure I know the light is still there always helping to guide me to where I need to be.

She takes her smooth gentle hands and runs them up and down my back comforting me. I wish it was comforting, I do. But it’s not. It’s complicating things for me. When she knows I’m still tense, she leans forward placing a kiss between my shoulder blades where I have Steven’s name and jersey number, the same number I have now, tattooed on me. A permanent reminder. My body tenses again, waiting for the memories to hit me full force but nothing happens.

I reach for her and pull her around so she’s sitting on my lap. Tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, I’m once again awestruck by her very being. She’s beautiful, even without the makeup she cakes her face with. She’s pure right now, like when I met her, innocent, knobby-kneed little girl who ate the frosting off my cupcake in the fourth grade and tried to convince me it was her sister. She’s that same girl who gave me her innocence without question when I didn’t deserve it. And now here she is, giving me another little piece I don’t deserve. Her. My shining star.

Macy reaches up cupping my face staring into my eyes so intently, just like the picture, her naked body pressed against mine. Just like when we were back at Cannon Beach. I close my eyes and lean into her touch.

“Make love to me,” Macy whispers.

It’s never “fuck me” with Macy. She’s not that kind of girl. She doesn’t do rough, she loves slow and gentle. My stomach clenches and I grip her hips hard. I shouldn’t give into her but I do. I always will. I do because the way she makes me feel silences things for a bit. She makes me believe there’s more to this life when I’m not thinking about the reality that I live in.

I nod my head and push her back a little bit so I could free myself from my boxers. Macy’s face flushes as she watches me grip myself. I reach behind her and cup her ass bringing her closer to me. I push inside of her with ease. Her head comes down to rest on my shoulder, moaning at my touch. I grip her hips rocking in and out of her. It’s slow, painfully slow. I’m memorizing it. Just like that photograph and the memories I have of her, I never want to forget moments like these when it’s pure between us.

Macy runs her hands over my shoulders and into my hair, tugging gently. She knows it drives me crazy when she does that.

This position is new for us sitting here holding on to each other with everything we are. I know deep down I can’t keep doing to this her. She’ll never leave me, ever. So it’s up to me to push her, push her over the edge and not want to hold on to what we have left. But I can’t make myself do that. I keep saying to myself, even right now, I can change and be good for her. Only problem is I never do. Instead of finding comfort in her the way I should, I find it in a bottle and a joint.

I’m constantly turning away from her only to have her turn me back around. I wish she’d leave me, put me out of my goddamn misery.

It’s times like this—when her eyes lock with mine—that I wish we were fighting instead of this raw emotion between us that fuels the passion we both have for each other. Fighting I can handle, emotions I can’t. I’m weak when it comes to that, to her, I’m the weakest of them.

I push everything out of my mind and move with determination. It has to be this way. It’s for the best. I throw everything that’s left of me into soul-searing sex between us. My movements becoming harder, faster, my left arm wrapped around her waist, my right on her ass moving her against me. Macy’s panting and gently biting down on my neck and it only fuels my fire and sends me over the fucking edge. Macy’s body tightens around me and I push harder into her chasing my own orgasm, praying she’s close because I’m not lasting.

“Oh, Landon,” she cries out.

Her body goes limp in my arms as I continue to drive into her. It starts out low in my stomach building rapidly and then it hits like a freight train.

“Damn,” I grind out still pumping in and out of her slowly as my release hits.

I rest my head on her shoulder and it’s then that I realize she’s crying.
Shit.
Was I too rough? Did I hurt her?

No, that’s all I’ve ever done is hurt her. This is more, she knows. She always knows what I can’t bare to say to her. This is her knowing there’s no chance for us. Not when I can’t give myself to her in the ways she needs.

I lift her chin and a tear slips down her cheek. Her next words break that last piece that was holding me together. “You stole my heartbeat.”

I blink, pulling away from her, and the words come out before I can stop them. “I can’t steal something you give to me over and over again to destroy.”

She says nothing because she knows it’s the truth but yet she doesn’t give a shit. She’d rather hold on to what we had and not what else is out there in the world, outside of this bubble she put us in.

My response has hit a nerve with her. Leaving me sitting up on the bed, Macy grabs her clothes and starts to get dressed. “Where are you going?”

She looks at me like I’m stupid and maybe I am. “I’m leaving. I can’t do this with you anymore.”

I laugh bitterly, pissed because I’m the one who always leaves. “Are you running off to Cash now?”

Macy stops and turns to me. Anger rolling off of her as she yells, “What the fuck is your problem with me and Cash?” She pushes me hard causing me to fall on the bed. “Why do you always think that we have something going on? Have I ever given you a reason to believe something is going on between Cash and me?”

I look away because she hasn’t. I’m just jealous that she still has a friendship with Cash.

“Damn it, answer me, Landon.” Macy pulls her shirt over her head and grabs her purse off the floor. “You can’t answer me, can you, Landon? You can’t because
you
and I both know that I haven’t.”

She pulls the door open and storms out. Leaving the door wide open, my body and my heart now exposed for all the world to see.

Finally, she’s pissed and I hope this time she stays away. Stays strong enough to stay mad at me so she can move the hell on with her life.

 

October 10, 2013

 

“Landon, I’m worried about you. Your grades are slipping,” Professor Robinson says when she looks down at the piece of paper in her hand. It’s yet another test I failed. I shouldn’t have, but I did. It’s not like I didn’t try studying but Madison had other ideas about halfway through and I got side-tracked with getting high with her. Forgetting about what was important.

I nod my understanding.

“I think you need to get a tutor if you plan on passing this class and keeping that scholarship of yours.” Mrs. Robinson gives me a pitiful smile and I hate her for it. She knows about my past. How I’m not exactly sure but she knows. She’d mentioned it one time when she called me down for failing the first assignment.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say reaching for my test that she’s handing me.

I run up the steps two at a time so I can make it to my next class on time. Just another thing I need to worry about on top of all the other shit I’ve got going on. And the fucked up thing about it is I can’t even call Macy to help me. I haven’t spoken to her once since that night she told me I stole her heartbeat. I guess in a way she’s right because when I do catch a glimpse of her around she looks fucking horrible. I did that. I caused her to look like death. She has dark circles around her eyes; she keeps her head down unless she’s with Cash. And I can tell she’s not eating, not many would notice it but I do.

After my last class I head to practice. I’m late, like normal these days. I change out of my clothes and step into my shorts. When I turn, Coach Lander is leaning against the lockers with his arms folded holding his clipboard.

“Landon.” He greets me. It’s cold and I know shit’s about to get real.

“Coach.”

He takes a deep breath and takes a step forward. “Son, I know you’re on something.” I don’t acknowledge the truth he just spoke. “Get off, Landon. You’re fucking your life up and our team can’t afford to suffer from your fuck ups.”

I hang my head in shame because he’s right. “Yes, sir.”

Today, I just need to get through today and then I’ll lay off so I can pass the drug test I know is coming up. Just one more day is all I need.

 

October 12, 2013

 

We have a game in Seattle against the Washington Huskies today. Colton, Jet and I are eating breakfast, well I’m trying to. I don’t feel like eating much but I know I have to in order to keep up with the game. Colton sits down with a plate filled with eggs, bacon, ham, and hash browns. Jet sits next to him with eggs, bacon, sausage, and hash browns and a big glass of water. I only took as much as I knew I’d be able to eat which is only some eggs and toast. I’ve been drinking water since I woke up and it’s filling me up. Plus, my nerves are out in full force.

We eat in silence, lost in our own thoughts of the game. Declan joins us a few minutes later looking like shit.

“You alright, big guy?” Jet asks.

Declan nods and buries his head in his arms that are resting on the table.

I get up from the table without a word and toss the food I didn’t eat in the trash and go back to my room.

When I get back I pack up everything I need for the game. Something about the game today seems off. I don’t know what it is but something is just off. I try to shake it off on the way out to the bus.

I sit on the bus next to Colton who is snoring and every time we hit a bump his head smacks the window. He never even budges. I’m reviewing plays of the game from last year trying to find my game plan against them. We’re on a winning streak and I want to keep it up.

When we arrive we are escorted in by police. We don’t have many fans who travel the hours and miles to watch us play but we do have some diehard ones. They cheer for us as we step off the bus and walk directly into the stadium locker room.

Some of the guys are quiet in their zones while others are laughing and carrying on, pushing each other’s buttons to psyche them up for the game.

I don’t talk to anyone, I need my focus. My headphones are on and turned all the way up.

After we suit up we, as a team, walk out on to the field and get a feel for it. We walk up and down, feeling the weather and taking in the atmosphere. When we’re done we head back into the locker room where the dressing coaches and trainers tend to certain players, making sure injuries are supported and talk about other little job assignments.

Once everyone is suited up and taped up we head out onto the field once more to warm up. When we are good and loose we jog back to the locker room and line up.

Cash and Saylor run out for the coin toss.

Saylor runs back, followed by Cash. We won the coin toss and we’re the receiving team so we get the ball back after half time.

 

Late in the third quarter we’re huddled. Cash calls the plays and we break.

“Hut, hut,” Cash yells.

The ball snaps and I take off down the field outrunning my opponent. I turn, my hands open waiting for the ball that I know will land there any second.

Only it never comes.

My eyes move to find Cash just as he gets sacked so hard his head bounces off the ground and his helmet flies off. I look for Colton wondering where the fuck Cash’s block was. He’s lying on the ground without a soul near him. He should have been there.

I don’t take my eyes off of him as he climbs to his feet and jogs off to the sidelines. I want to follow behind him because I want to know why he wasn’t there defending Cash in the pocket. I get a quick glance in Cash’s direction. He’s probably telling the trainers that he’s fine, he’s not though. They put him on a stretcher and cart him off to go get checked out.

The number two backup quarterback, Brian, runs out onto the field. I’ll have to deal with Colton after the game.

 

When we all get back to the locker room I head straight for Colton. That stupid fuck knew exactly what he was doing when Cash got rocked out there. He should have blocked that guy, it’s the only one he had to worry about.

Colton has his back turned away from me when I come up behind him and shove him. He turns around ready to fight. “You wanna finish this now?” He cocks an eyebrow. He knew I would be coming for him. “Why are you so pissed? I thought you hated him. Who cares if he got rocked out there tonight? His cocky ass deserved to be roughed up a little.”

I get in his face shoving my finger into his chest, “He’s not cocky for one thing. He’s better than all of you cocksuckers combined. Better than any of us are and you just put his entire career in danger, you stupid fuck.”

Colton backs up a step, “Again, Landon, why do you care?”

He doesn’t understand, none of them do, none of them ever will. “Because he’s worth it and that’s all that matters.” I take a step back shaking my head. There is a crowd that has formed around us and everyone is just watching and waiting for the fists to start flying. It’s not going to happen though. Colton isn’t worth it, none of them are.

 

October 15, 2013

 

Madison and I have a Statistics test that’s coming up. She calls and asks if I want to study with her. Of course I do. I’m falling behind in that class and can use any help I can get.

“Want to pick up a pizza and meet me in my dorm?” Madison asks as soon as I answer the phone.

Groaning, I answer, “What time?” I don’t really want to go over there because I don’t want to run into Macy in the hallway but whatever, I need the help.

“A half hour?”

I roll out of bed, “Yup.”

I quickly get a shower, get dressed then leave to go pick up the pizzas and go to Madison’s.

BOOK: Surviving Regret
10.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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