Redemption

WATCHING ESPN

I sat on the porch, listening to the rainfall. I tried counting in between every lightning strike, but my mind wandered back to my mom, and I lost track. I can't remember her face from my childhood. All I can see is the blonde woman surrounded by her new family in a recent profile picture on Facebook.

It'd be a lie if I said I didn't reach out. On multiple occasions, in a drunken state of mind, I messaged her. I asked what life was like now that I wasn't a part of it and if it got better after she left. I told her how she made me feel, and with every message, I saw that she read it.

I'm still waiting for a response.

Would going pro make her proud? Or does she get repulsed hearing my name on the TV when her sons are watching ESPN? I want to know if my picture pops up and she starts to regret what she did. How could she, though?

She doesn't have to work now. Her husband is a lawyer, so they've never worried about shut-off notices and eviction letters being taped to the door.

Evelyn dropped me off at school one day and didn't arrive when the bell rang to pick me up. I heard my classmates laughing at me. They were pointing fingers and cracking jokes.

I went from being the kid who bragged about having the best mom to being the kid who was left at school wondering when she would come to pick him up.

Now I'm the person who waits for everyone to walk out just like she did. I watched Joey and Fletcher pull away in their car, wondering if they'd come back. Sure, Sawyer is here, but it's only a matter of time before she realizes how big of a fuck up I am.

It made me reach for the bottle again, but it's empty, and as I sit with it on my lap, I think staying in therapy would've been good for me. Maybe if I had opened up about my problems I wouldn't have been here.

"Carter?"

Sawyer's voice was a ceasefire. The warring stopped. There's wreckage, smoke, and dust, but she's here now, and I'm no longer fighting for control over my mind. She's here, and if the voices in my head don't hear me, they surrender to her.

"Carter?" She stepped toward me, her eyes full of concern, flickering from the bottle on my lap to my face. "Are you okay?"

I stared at her, knowing she wanted an answer. I almost lied, but the tears falling down my face wouldn't let me, and before I could say a word, she pulled me into her chest.

She rested on her knees in front of the porch swing, bringing me closer to her as my body relaxed in her hold. Everything I choked down came rushing back up. My sweat and tears smelled like whiskey, but she held me anyway, and she let me cry on her chest as her fingers rubbed circles on my scalp.

"Come inside," she whispered. "It's too cold out here."

I tugged at her wrist as she attempted to stand. "Don't leave me."

She tangled our fingers, her forehead rested against mine. "Never. I'm never leaving. I want you to come with me."

"You know I'm still me, right?" I looked at her, hoping to find any sign that she didn't believe me. "I'm still great at football and I – "

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," my words slurred. "I'm enough. I know I'm enough. Maybe not for the people I love but I'll be enough for somebody someday. I know I will."

"You're enough for me now," her words broke into a whisper.

"Yeah, but you'll see. Just like my mom did. I'm enough for you now but not later. Not when you find more."

"Carter," she tried tugging me inside. "Please, come inside."

"I didn't mean to get mad tonight," my eyes started to burn. "I don't hate Tory. I just hate him around you. He might be better for you than I am, by the way. And my dad called too. He said mom's back in town. Did I tell you how long it's been since I talked to my dad? It's been a really long time, Sawyer. Like really long. I thought he didn't have my number. I thought he didn't want me around either, but I was drunk, and I've been sober for two years. Well. I was. I guess I fucked that up too."

I followed her up the stairs, filling her head with things she probably didn't want to hear. She led me into my room where it smelled just as badly as I did. The curly-haired girl didn't seem to mind.

"How much have you had to drink tonight, Carter?"

I fell back onto the bed, watching the room sway. "Don't worry. This is light for me. But I'm not your dad, Sawyer. I promise. I won't be mean – "

"I know," she opened a bottle of water. "Can you drink this for me, please?"

"You trust me, right?"

She looked up from the bottle in her hands. "Yes. I trust you, Carter."

"I'd never hurt you," I promised, grabbing the water. "Never."

I watched her wipe a tear from her cheek, but she started walking toward the door before I could ask why she was crying.

"Sawyer, wait."

Her curly hair flopped as she turned to look at me. "You need to sleep – "

"You said you weren't leaving."

"I'm not," she rubbed her eyes again. "I'm going to my room."

"Please, stay," I patted the spot beside me. "Don't go."

I watched her hesitate until she started walking toward me. My hand reached out, waiting for her to curl her fingers with mine. As I gently tugged her toward the bed, she pulled back the blanket. Her body slid into the space beside me.

Before I could ask to hold her, she rested her head on my chest. My breath hitched as her hand rested against my bare chest. My fingers played with her hair until her breathing slowed and the room didn't seem to sway so much anymore.

I looked down at the girl lying on my chest with her eyes closed. "I think I'm falling in love with you, Sawyer Price."