I hate Atlanta.
I hate the people. I hate the traffic. I hate that I have to be back here right now. I should be back home, helping Scarlett through her stressful week with the social worker. Not here.
It's been three days and all we've done is move things out of storage and sell it. It's a constant cycle that I'm over. Mom and Dad are insistent that we go out to all our old favorite restaurants.
It just makes me paranoid.
"Ashton, there's a stop I have to make, come with me, please?" Mom asks but I know it's not an option.
Sighing I ride with her, Scarlett's face filling up my screen as we park.
Walking, I answer. "Hello, Sweetheart."
"Hi, I miss you." She says.
"I miss you." I admit, I'd much rather be with her right now. "How did everything go?"
Holding the door open for mom, I'm not prepared for the screech that fills my ear. "Oh, Ashton, it was perfect! The lady was so nice and she loved us."
"That's amazing, so it's a go?" I ask, sending mom a thumbs up.
"Friday, I'll know for sure but I'm pretty hopeful."
"Wow, that's great, Scar." I say, unable to wrap my head around it. Beyond great.
"Ashton." Mom says, motioning for me to hang up.
"Sweetheart, I have to go but I'll call you later." I say and she offers a goodbye before the line goes dead.
Putting my phone up, I'm about to ask mom where we are when an all too familiar face steps into view. "Mister McClain, you're right on time for our appointment."
Glaring at mom, I try to remain calm. "You brought me to see Doctor Williams?"
"Ashton, you got into a fight and I need to make sure you're okay. Besides, with the nightmares I figured it'd be good to discuss them with someone who isn't me." She tries to reason with me.
"Nope, I'm not doing this." I snap, turning to head for the door.
"I'll call Scarlett." Mom threatens.
I stop, "You wouldn't dare."
"Someone has to talk some reason into you."
My own mother is going to black mail me with my girlfriend. Glaring at her, I know there's no out.
"Fine."
Storming past my mother and therapist, a wiry old woman who's seen more troubled kids than I could shake a stick at, I go to the room I hate.
She follows me while mom makes herself comfortable in the waiting room. Plopping down on the red couch worn with use, I wait.
"How have you been, Ashton?" She asks tentatively.
"Better."
"How is your life in Tennessee?"
"Better."
"Ashton, I don't care how upset you are, but I will not tolerate pouting in my office. The sooner you sit up like the 17-year-old you are and answer these questions, the better off you'll be." She snaps.
Damn, I forgot how much of a hardass she was. There's a reason mom sent me to this woman.
Readjusting myself, I pick at the now patched hole in the sofa. "My life is better. I have friends. I play football. I have a scholarship to the University of Alabama. My gpa is great. My only B is in Algebra, which I find totally reasonable." I begin to ramble off all the accomplishments I've achieved in the last six months.
"That's good, no trouble?"
I stop picking at the spot. "I've had three fights, none of which I instigated."
"Tell me about them." She doesn't bat an eye at this information.
"The first one was at this party, I wasn't drinking. It was to celebrate us winning state. Scarlett's ex-boyfriend showed up and hurt her, so I returned the favor."
"How did you handle it?"
"I didn't, Gabe poured water on me to snap me out of my trance. I don't regret it though, she had bruises for a week."
"And the second one?"
I hesitate, "It wasn't really a fight. I just punched a guy after he ran his mouth."
"What did he say?"
"He was saying terrible things about my girlfriend. We weren't dating at the time, but I let my mood get the best of me and I hit him. I was fine after. It was nothing bad." He only had a welt for a few days.
He deserves worse.
"And the third?"
"That would be the reason I'm currently here. At a baseball game, I got into a full-blown brawl with that guy from the first fight. We beat the shit out of each other like there was no tomorrow." I'm still unsure of how we go so carried away.
"And the affect?"
"I felt horrible. Disgusted with myself not for what I did, but for the fact I still wanted to do it." I admit, "I was ready to fight anyone who came in my line of sight because I was itching for that feeling again."
"I missed it." I mutter shamefully. "I didn't want to, but I did."
The silence eats away at me, desperate for her to say something. Anything. Tell me I'm not a fucked-up monster.
"Tell me about Scarlett." She simply says.
"What? Don't you want to analyze my fights?" I question, that's how it usually goes.
"All three fights were because of her so I need to know who she is."
Well, I mean, that makes sense. But those fights were my decision, not hers. She didn't ask me to do it, I chose to use my fists. "She's my girlfriend. We met on my first day of school."
"And how do you feel about her?"
"I love her." I reply instantly, feeling weird to willingly talk to my therapist. Usually there's a lot more pushing on her end.
"You love her?"
"I'm in love with her." I clarify, knowing there's a difference.
She hums a response, "And what is the limit on what you would do for her?"
"There is no limit." At all.
"You've obviously proven that but why?" She asks in the same monotonous voice I've come to despise.
Show some sort of emotion, it's natural.
"She... she makes me want to be better. My pain amounts to nothing compared to hers and I realized I gave up on my own life." I reply softly, hating to admit it.
"I stopped trying to be good. I was okay with being like... like him."
"Like your father."
I nod, "Yeah but, I don't know, it's hard to explain. It opened my eyes to how selfish and horrible I was, and I started to reach for higher goals. I stayed in school. I met people. I got better."
I'm a whole new person and I'm okay with that. I'm thrilled.
"And how do you feel now that you're separated?"
"Antsy. I'm constantly checking my phone for messages just because I want to talk to her. The longest we've gone without talking is four days and it almost killed me." And it was all my fault.
"How does she handle your... more aggressive tendencies?" She asks cautiously.
"I don't act that way towards her, and I never will." I vow. "I lost my cool one time and I wasn't even mad. I was upset. That was enough. My temper is on lock down no matter what."
"You can't always control that."
"I can and I will." I state. To do that to her, to be so monstrous would be horrible.
I would hate myself.
She appraises me, clearly wanting to say more against my declaration. "So, this girl, she's important to you?" I nod. "She's the one thing you have to have in life."
I nod again, unsure of where this conversation is going.
"She's your drug." The old woman states simply.
I blink, taken back by her absurd declaration. "I don't have an addiction. My father is the one who has issues like that."
She shrugs, "Drug, weakness, Achilles heel– they all mean the same."
"No, she isn't. I'm not like that." I grit out.
"Your father is still a sensitive subject, have you spoken to him?" She directs the conversation the way she wants it to go.
I hate it.
"No. He writes, I ignore the letters." The pile continues to grow wherever my parents hide them.
"Aren't you curious?"
"Nope, that man could drop dead tomorrow and it wouldn't phase me." I say blankly because it's true. That man is nothing more than someone who gave my mom sperm.
Mark is better than him. I'm better than him.
"I'm certainly not saying you have to like the man, it was just a question." She chides me for getting so defensive. "How's your sleep?"
"Alright."
She purses her lips. "Do you sleep better with Scarlett?"
I want to demand how she did that, but I know better. My face gives away everything she needs to know, I'm an open book. "Yes, the nightmares still come but I don't lose it."
"And why is that?"
I shrug, uncomfortable with saying it out loud. "I don't know, I'm comfortable around her. I don't pretend or stress about anything, she's just..."
My voice dies off, unwanting to say anymore for right now. She gets the picture.
She nods, "What are your nightmares about?"
"Everything." My life before I managed to be saved.
She frowns, "What is the most prominent scene?"
Closing my eyes, I try to prevent the images from flashing through my mind. "It's me beating Ethan to a bloody pulp, never able to stop."
"The boy you put in the hospital?" I nod. "Have you tried to apologize?"
A laugh escapes at the thought. "You want me to apologize to the kid I almost killed?"
She doesn't smile at me, "You're consumed with guilt from your actions. If you don't set yourself free, there will be no peace."
Yeah, let me just go ahead and bake him an apology cake. Should glaze right over everything I put him through.
"You've had significant growth. I've never seen someone with as much progress as you in such a short amount of time." She praises me and even though I know the but is coming, I smile.
I'm pretty proud of myself.
"But you are still haunted by demons and you may believe you deserve them, you don't. You will never be 100 percent until you release them. Your family, your friends, your girlfriend will suffer because you refuse to heal." She informs me, knowing exactly how to push my buttons.
I'm not doing anything to hurt anyone.
Standing, I offer a tight smile. "Of course, I'll try to fix it."
"One last thing." She calls after me.
I stop, unsure of what else she could possibly say.
"There is no weakness in having a weakness. In many ways it makes you stronger to be vulnerable."
"The only problem is Achilles was invincible until someone struck his heel, I can't afford to have that." I offer solemnly, knowing someone much more impressive than Paris would ruin me.
*****
Mom doesn't apologize for her surprise attack, dragging me with her to the mall.
Walking around, I begin to browse the jewelry section of a store. Scarlett already has two rings and a bracelet she wears everyday but maybe I could add on one more to the collection.
"Funny, you never struck me as a ruby kind of guy." A voice quirks and I panic.
I've heard that voice in my nightmares for months.
Turning around, I'm face to face with Ethan Reynolds. He looks better now, granted the last time I saw him there were bruises and blood all over his face.
"Oh my God." I mumble, unable to say another word. Stuck in place, there's nowhere to run.
"McClain, you look different." He remarks with that stupid voice I've hated since we were kids.
Except now it doesn't anger me. It makes me feel guilty.
"Ethan... I... I'm..."
"Ethan, sweetie, where are you?" A woman calls.
Even more guilt seeps into my veins as I take in his mother. Kind brown eyes stare up at me. No more grief stricken-pain on her face as she blinks in disbelief.
That makes two of us lady.
"I'm sorry." I blurt out. "I'm sorry for sleeping with your girlfriend. I'm sorry for beating the shit out of you. I'm sorry for putting you in the hospital. I'm sorry it took me six months to apologize and it wasn't even on purpose." I spit out, afraid to lose my determination.
Now I just sound like a psycho.
"Look, man, it's all cool." He assures me. "It allowed for me to see how fucked up I really was."
That's when I finally see it. Something's changed, his energy is different as Ella would say. He wears a real smile rather than a sneer and kindness shines in his eyes, not malice.
Nodding slowly, I'm able to form proper words. "These past six months have certainly been evolutionary."
He snorts like we're old pals, offering his hand to shake. "Take care, man, you look a lot better."
Grasping it, I smile. "I feel better." Despite the fact my heart is pounding in my ears, I turn to his mom. "Thank you, I, um, I found my light."
She smiles softly, not an ounce of hate on her face. "I'm glad."
"You gave me a second chance when I deserved none and I'm so grateful for your decision to let me start over. It changed everything for me." I admit.
I'm pulled down for a hug, "Oh, darling, everyone deserves a second chance."
Yeah, I guess they do.
As we pull apart, Mom finds me from across the store. Offering them one last goodbye, I make my way back over to her. It's funny how much lighter I feel, it's almost as if I could fly.
"Are you okay?" She cautiously asks as we head back to the hotel.
"Never been better."
And for the first time in a while, I genuinely mean it.
*****
The rest of the week I'm in a state of total bliss. Sleep is easy. The panic has dissolved.
I'm free.
Waiting in the airport Friday afternoon, my phone beeps with a text.
Sweetheart
May 3rd
"Holy shit." I mutter, earring slap across the arm from mom.
"Ashton Brecken."
"Sorry but they got the date." I say, typing back a congratulations. May 3rd Scarlett becomes the guardian of her siblings.
Wow.
Mom and Dad both start talking at once, the former pulling her phone out to type her own message. I hush them as my phone rings.
"Hello." It's difficult to keep from jumping up and down.
Be cool, Ashton, be cool.
"Mr. McClain, Josh Jones calling."
Oh, I forgot all about Easton's heads up. Panic begins to build. "Sir, how are you?"
"I'm well, son, are your parents around?"
This is it, they're gonna take away my scholarship.
Putting the phone on speaker, I motion for mom and dad to move closer. "We're all here, Coach."
Please don't crush my hopes and dreams.
"Excellent, I'm not quite sure how to say this so I'll cut to the chase."
"Am I in trouble?" I blurt out, knowing those words never mean good things.
He chuckles, "The opposite actually."
I'm totally lost. If I'm not in trouble, then why does he want to speak to me?
"The staff was talking, and they see promising things in your future at Alabama." He starts.
"Thank you, sir, I'm looking forward to my years at Alabama and in the program." Can't wait.
"What if I told you that you could get an early jump on that time?"
"I'm not following you, sir." I offer honestly, at all.
"McClain, we'd like for you to graduate early and begin your time here after the fall semester of your senior year." He says and my whole world stops.
"You want me to leave that early?" I question doubtfully.
I can't do that. That's only nine months from now. I have more time before I give up my life here.
"Yes, we see you with a potential starting position and in order for you to achieve that the work must be put in."
"I..."
"The almost six-month advantage will do wonders for your career." He adds brightly.
I sit there, gaping like a fish out of water. How can I decline this and still keep my scholarship? Because I'm saying no.
Mom senses my discomfort. "Coach Jones, I'm so sorry but our flight is boarding. Ashton will call you later after he's had the time to process everything."
They hang up and I'm still stunned.
"Ash, Hun, we can call them later and work out all the logistics." Mom offers, rubbing my cheek.
"What logistics? I'm not doing it." I state, standing up.
"Don't freak out."
"I'm beyond freaking out. I have a solid life that I want to enjoy for as long as I can."
So much to do and enjoy.
Life really knows how to knock me down a few pegs.
*****
Life in Color is up for three Fiction Awards and the voting is UNLIMITED!! So go vote as many times as you'd like for all three categories.
Two in Genre and one in Non-Genre!!
Also, packing sucks and it's so stressful but alas.
XO-Mo