Loved By Levi

Eleven

Levi

"If you hate running and working out and all that so much then why do you do it?" Her voice was light and curious, not accusing like I expected.

I fought to keep my eyes from closing to relive the powerful memory. Usually I was the kind of guy that moved on from things and never looked back on the past, but the conversation that lead to me turning my life around was an exception.

"A conversation I had a while back—with Matt of all people—basically made me see that I wasn't taking care of myself or going anywhere with my life. I guess I just found a goal and ran with it, no pun intended."

I'd been butthurt and grumpy, as usual, on the way home from the party we'd been out at. There, Matt, along with most of the other guys in the place, had been fawned over all night. I was left out in the cold alone, which was my reason for pouting. In his typical drunken haze, he'd just stared at me for a while before throwing out some words that would be forever burned in my brain.

"Levi, I can never figure you out."

I glared at him out of the corner of my eye and took the last left turn before our apartment.

"I mean, me, I'm a fucking loser. I'll never do anything with my life because I don't want to and I've never had any reason to. Now you, that's a different story, man. You have so much drive and shit, why don't you put it to good use and make something of yourself instead of being a pissed off, miserable drunk? If you're gonna be a drunk, at least be a happy one like me."

He'd promptly leaned the seat back and passed out even though we were less than a minute away from our place.

Being the most profound thing my best friend had ever come up with, that really stuck with me. He was right, too. I went out to parties with him promising to actually enjoy myself but every single time the night would end with Matt hooking up while I hid in the corner with a can of lukewarm beer and a lot of bitter feelings. Maybe if I hadn't been so self-conscious I would have actually had the guts to go talk to a girl and try to, I don't know, be friends with her?

Sitting in our driveway that night I stared down at myself. I was slouching in my seat, as usual, and the pose was less than flattering. I was short. My fat rolls were wrapped in the nearly-too-tight t-shirt I wore. I looked in the rearview mirror. My hair was limp and a little greasy because I'd been to lazy to wash it well in the shower that morning. I hadn't combed it, either, and it stuck up in odd places.

Staring in that mirror while Matt snored loudly in passenger seat, it hit me. Everything bringing me down was my own fault. If I actually went to the gym and didn't eat like shit I wouldn't have to try and hide my fat rolls and wrestle to make the clothes I already had fit. I wouldn't have as many sprinkles of acne if I bothered to wash my face twice a day like the directions on my soap said to. I'd be a lot more attractive if my hair wasn't wild and greasy—another easy fix. All of those things could be fixed relatively easily but I used them as reasons—excuses—to hide away from people and wallow in self-pity because nobody ever talked to me.

I punched the steering wheel. Matt didn't even move.

"Sorry, Mylee, I was spacing out. What did you say?" I gave her a guilty look and prayed that she wouldn't up and walk away from me, the asshole of the hour.

"It's okay," she replied softly, reaching an unsteady hand out to touch mine.

"Seriously, what did you say?"

Her brown eyes locked on our contrasting shoes which were moving perfectly in time. "I said I wish I had a goal."

I stared at her, incredulous. "How are you getting through college so fast if it's not a goal for you?"

Mylee shrugged with both thin shoulders. I realized that was a habit she used to buy time during difficult conversations. "Graduating in three years is a goal my dad had for me. He knows how easy I think school is and figured I could use a challenge. He said if I managed that and continued rodeoing he'd pay for half of my tuition plus rent so I didn't have to work all year. What I make in the summers pretty well covers everything else."

For the first time since we'd met, a pang of jealousy shot through me. Mylee's dad was paying for her school and rent so she could screw off and have fun all year? Man did I wish I had a dad who'd do that. The only family I had were my second cousins that I hadn't seen in years. I'd been barely scraping by since I moved out at sixteen while people like her spent their lives barely ever lifting a finger.

"I'll probably start covering my own expenses when I get into vet school," she continued. "I mean, it's not like dad can provide for me forever, and besides, I don't want him to. Someday I have to start taking care of myself, even if he doesn't want me to."

The jealousy I'd felt seconds before immediately dissolved and was replaced by guilt for being a judgmental ass. She was going to vet school? Even I knew how damn expensive that was. And she was going to pay for it? Because she wanted to, not because her dad was cutting her off. My opinion of her rose.

"Why vet school?" I blurted out. She shrugged and looked away again.

"I dunno. Dad thinks it would be a good profession to get into. I'd be helping animals, which I like."

I reached out to touch her shoulder. "Mylee, I know you'd be helping animals, but you do realize you'll have to put them down, too, right? I'm not saying that to be a jerk, I'm just saying the only times I've been to the vet's office were to put old critters to sleep."

She finally looked at me again and I was shocked to find her eyes filled with tears. "Yeah, I know. It sucks. But I don't really have any other goals so I figured I'd just go with what my dad says is best. He's the smartest guy I know."

Sympathy welled up inside me and before I knew what I was doing I'd reached out to wrap my arms around her. "Shh, don't cry. I'm sure your dad is a smart man. But sometimes you gotta think about what you want. I mean, it is your future, not his."

She nodded against my shoulder and took a ragged breath, drawing me back in time to the day we first met. No, I hadn't hugged her then or given her my terrible life advice, but she had been in tears. I knew what I had to do.

"Mylee, do you want to go get something to eat with me?"