Colt's POV
I need to get out of the car. I need to get out of the car. I need to get out of the car.
But it's been ten minutes already, and I just can't get my ass out of the car and into the damn apartment.
I have to see Johnny.
Johnny.
John.
Dead.
The air whooshes from my lungs, and I feel my heart fail on me.
I frantically roll down the window to get fresh air to my lungs and to help drop my body temperature, but it can't come fast enough. I throw myself out of the car, whip around, and rest my hot forehead on the cool metal. I heave in the oxygen practically hyperventilating and bang a fist against the car.
Goddamn.
I guess that's one way of doing it.
Counting to ten, my heart rate goes down and so does my body temperature. I glance at the car next to mine, a blue Hyundai Santa Fe. Brooke's already up there in the apartment.
Brooke.
I can do this.
I can.
With one last shaky breath, I grab my suitcase and the keys of my car and make my way to the elevator. Apprehension fills my gut, telling me to stop and think. But there's nothing to think about. I made my choice when I thought Josie made hers. There's nothing to be done about it now. What's done is done, and there's no way to change it.
My feet carry me to my apartment while my mind works and turns. Like the last four hours of my life, it mulls over every single alternate version of this future if I had just made myself know all those years ago.
It needs to chill the fuck out.
But how am I supposed to go on, not knowing where I'm going from this point on? I know that Josie will be fine. She's got SueEllen and Tommy and Wes and June and Bobby and Carrie Ann and my dad and Katie and this whole network of supportive people. I'm all by myself up here. Yes, I have Brooke and some work friends, but only the people back home, I mean in Georgia know the whole story.
How am I supposed to tell Brooke everything if I even choose to do so?
I shake my head of that thought. I have to tell her. Maybe tomorrow after work, when she gets home from school.
Pushing away my thoughts, I come to face my front door. After unlocking the door, I come to face a seemingly empty house, but as soon as I set my luggage down, I'm attacked by my dog and another person. We all crash down to the ground with Johnny licking my face surrounded by Brooke's fits of giggles.
"Well, that's one way to greet someone when they come home," I laugh. Brooke's arms tighten around my neck, and I pull her closer into me. Nuzzling my nose into the crook of her neck, I breathe in the sweet scent of her vanilla shampoo, embracing it.
"I missed you," she murmurs quietly. She presses a kiss above my collarbone, and I tense. She pulls back, searching my face. "Are you okay? You look like you're about to flatline."
I breathe out a chuckle through my nose and shake my head. Giving her forehead a light shove backward, I get out from under her and look for a mirror. I stand in front of the bathroom one, and I find that Brooke's words are true. I do look like shit. There are bags and dark circles under my eyes, and my hair looks like it went through the wringer.
Brooke comes up behind me, trying to flatten out my brown strands and giggling when it refuses to cooperate.
"I think you should just deal with this in the shower."
"I like watching you struggle with it though," I answer. I turn around in her arms and encircle my own around her waist. She rolls her eyes and flicks my nose. "Ow!"
"Don't be a jerk," she declares with a huff, though her eyes tell me that she's joking. She tosses her head to the right. "Let's go get you unpacked."
"Yes, ma'am."
She takes my hand and tugs me along with her to the bedroom, grabbing my suitcase on the way.
How can she act so carefree when everything that I know is being questioned?
I feel the heavy weight of the engagement ring in my pocket as well as my breakfast coming back up to make a guest appearance.
Oh boy.
Unzipping the suitcase, she begins to take out the clothes that I so messily threw in there.
"Were you in a hurry to leave or something?" she asks lightly.
"Something like that," I answer dismissively, and if she notices, she doesn't comment on it. I turn around and head to my closet, discreetly taking out the ring and tucking it into one of my work pants' pockets.
"Holy... .what is that?"
I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear her gasp, thinking she's seen the burgundy velvet box in my hands. I spin around, standing in front of the pair of pants that I put the ring in and look at what she's talking about.
Oh. My trophy.
Hallelujah.
"Wow, football champions huh?" She turns to me and gestures to the trophy with her free hand.
"Yep. We were a force to be reckoned with," I say distractedly.
Flashbacks of that game wash over me, and memories of Josie's and my pre-game ritual, the heat of the game, the halftime pep talk from Coach O'Donnell, and finally scoring that winning touchdown in overtime drown me.
What am I doing?
"Yeah, the Oak Bend Rangers. What were your colors?"
I blink and shake my head, thrown off by the simple question.
"Our colors?"
"Yeah, you know." She gives me a one-shouldered shrug. "Mine were neon green and white for the Northview Demons." She makes a disgusted face at the mention of them
"Navy and silver."
"Better than green and white. It was the ugliest green you've ever seen."
I chuckle and flex my fingers.
"I can only imagine."
"Yeah. . ." She drifts off and continues to unpack my things for me.
I reach over and grab my hamper and place it by the bed. Sitting down next to her, I go through dirty and clean clothes.
"Is that your lettermen's jacket?" she giggles. She unfolds it and holds it up by the shoulders, biting her lip to hold back more laughter. "Wow, you got one for academics too? Smartypants," she teases.
In the process of returning the rental car, I had managed to stuff my pictures, trophy, and lettermen's jacket all in the suitcase so that I had less to keep track of.
And then we stumble upon the pictures.
First, it's the ones that I had taken from my dad's place of my mom.
"Is that. . ." Brooke trails softly.
My breath hitches as I see who she's pointing to. "Yeah."
It's a picture of my mother towards the end of her life when the cancer was getting worse. We were at the beach, and she was just soaking up the sun with the widest smile on her lips.
"She's beautiful. You look just like her."
I bristle at her last comment and ignore it.
"She was a beautiful person, Brooke. You would have loved her."
"With all my heart," she agrees. "What was her name?"
"Maggie. Margaret Jane Roberts. But all of my friends just called her 'Mama.' She wouldn't have it any other way." I wipe my nose, blinking.
God, I miss her.
We go through picture after picture of my family.
"He looks crotchety," Brooke comments, talking about my father.
"He does, but he's a good man. He did his best in raising me after Mom died." I know that she didn't mean her words in a harsh way, and I don't know why I feel so defensive of him but I do. I don't like her badmouthing him when she's never even met him.
"I'm sure he is," she agrees. She flips to the next picture, the Polaroid of me and Johnny at Josie's parents' house. "Wow, you look happy," she says quietly. "I've never seen you like that."
"That's Johnny. Being within a ten-foot radius of that dog does that to you," I tell her contently, happy that we've moved on from my mother and father.
"Oh, the original Johnny. He looks happy too."
"He was a happy dog. He had a contagious zest for life that I never understood. Guess it's a dog thing."
"Was he yours?"
"No." I swallow. "He was my best friend's dog, but he might as well have been."
A couple of pictures later, and we come across one of the whole gang posing for junior prom pictures. We're in the old festival field with all of our trucks and cars, but Tommy had to borrow my father's because he had a Tahoe, which wouldn't have worked with the idea that SueEllen, Carrie Ann, and Josie had come up with. There are five trucks, and each couple is standing or sitting on the bed of their own truck all facing the camera. The boys are all sitting on the tailgate with their legs dangling, smiling perfectly for the camera, while the girls stand on the bed, doing their own "fierce and fiery"—as SueEllen called it when she was posing us all—poses.
That was the year I dated Mary Jo. Josie was asked by Tanner Cummings. Both of us were ditched, which was kind of the turning point in our relationship.
"Who are they?"
"My best friends," I answer, but my heart stops when I see Josie.
Deep breaths, buddy, deep breaths.
I pointed each of them out going left to right, giving them brief descriptions.
"That's SueEllen. She was my first girlfriend ever and is the chattiest, most easy-going girl you'll ever meet. She's married to Tommy." I point to the boy below SueEllen. "He's my best friend—"
"The one who has Johnny?" Brooke interrupts.
"No." I shake my head. "Tommy was—is, he's my best guy friend, and he is the most loyal man I've ever met. SueEllen and Tommy have a boy named Alan with a second kid along the way. They're marriage goals, just saying." I almost added, "We'll have to take notes," but I chickened out. I need to chill out.
Cocking her head to the side, she purses her lips slightly in a questioning gaze. I motion for her to hold on and that I'll get to it.
"Anyway," I continue, "This is Wes, another one of my best friends. All of the guys were on the football team with me. Wes was one of the senior captains with me, and he's married to June. June is clever and generous and super easy to talk to. Wes and June have kids together now, too. Which is crazy."
SueEllen rubs my bicep and casts a knowing smile my way. I return it with a quirk of my lips and point at Mary Jo.
"This is Mary Jo," I get out quickly. "Cheerleader, works at the post office now, wears too much perfume with hair too big for her body."
"I'm sensing some negative energy here," she mocks.
"Yeah. We dated for like, four months, and then... well, let's just say that she got a taste of her own medicine," I chuckle. I skip over Josie and Tanner for the time being, ignoring Brooke's curious stare. "This is Bobby. He means well, but he never grew up. One of my best friends, but Bobby is Bobby, and you can't change him. Yeah, so he married Carrie Ann. They were the infamous on-again-off-again couple, and it was so annoying. Anyway, I guess he got kicked out, but of course, Carrie Ann took him back. Carrie Ann is all right, I mean, we were never really close, but she was okay as far as I can recall."
She nods along to my words, and I watch her try to understand how we all fit in together. She points to Josie and Tanner. "And these two?"
I clear my throat, preparing for the worst. I don't know why I'm so freaked out. I mean, the likelihood that Josie and I will ever see each other again is so slim.
I decide to explain Tanner first.
"He isn't apart of our group. He was only in the photo because he asked Josie to prom. That's it. He was on the football team with me and stuff," I rush.
"Again, a lot of tension."
"Cause he's a scumbag," I say shorty. She raises her hands in mock surrender, and I continue. "He treated her like an ass and ditched her for another girl halfway through the dance without warning, and then he tried to blame her. He caused a lot of problems."
"I see." She nods. "And the girl? Josie?"
"She has Johnny." Brooke opens her mouth to question me, but I talk over her so I can explain more. "Our parents went to high school together, and our dads were best friends. But we didn't become best friends officially until preschool when she let me swing next to her on the playground."
She nods, urging me to continue.
"Um, yeah. We did everything together. Adults were convinced that we would end up getting together, and they had our wedding planned out since the sixth grade, but we were just friends. She is the most loyal, honest person I've ever met. Like, loyal to a fault, Brooke, and if she had an opinion about something, you could bet your butt you'd know about it."
"She sounds great." Brooke smiles genuinely. If only she knew. "What happened to her?" she asks softly.
I breathe in deep and expel it slowly. I look her in the eye and tell her the truth.
"She married an asshole right out of high school convinced they were going to live out their dreams together, wound up pregnant, miscarried, and the piece of shit left her."
Her eyes widen and her brows raise, the look of shock washing over her.
"Really?"
"Yeah. I saw her over the week though. She's doing great though. She's a nurse now. A nurse," I repeat, still shocked. But how befitting that the person who just naturally takes care of everyone should get paid for it.
"Awe," she praises. "Good for her."
"Yeah. Everyone is doing amazing for themselves, and it's crazy how life just keeps going, ya know?" I think aloud. She squints like she doesn't quite know where I'm going with my train of thought, but she doesn't say anything about it.
Life does just keep going, whether you want it to or not. It doesn't wait or slow down for you. It marches on relentlessly, almost admirably how it keeps pushing on.
I'm getting slap-happy.
"Well, I can't wait to meet everyone."
I'm sorry?
"I... what?" I stutter.
She takes the stack of photographs out of my hands and puts it onto the nightstand. When she turns back to me, she explains, "I mean, I'm assuming that I'm going to be meeting your father soon, right? You've met my parents. I would love to meet the people who raised you and grew up with you. Think you can make a true southerner out of this Yankee?"
She needs to slow her roll. I seriously doubt that she would be saying that if she knew the truth.
"Oh yeah, of course. Just gotta talk slow and learn to appreciate what you got while you got it," I affirm. I nudge her shoulder with mine. "And learn to like iced tea."
She laughs and pushes me lightly.
"Aye aye, sir." She gets off the bed and changes into one of my tee shirts. I follow suit and change out of my day clothes and put on some pajamas. I hear Brooke crawl into bed, and I hop in after her. She wastes no time in getting snuggled into my chest, and within minutes, I feel her breathing become steady and even.
I have to tell her tomorrow. There's no way that she can go on another day without knowing the full truth. It isn't fair to her. She deserves the whole and honest truth, and if she wants nothing to do with me afterward, that's fine.
I just hope that she does.
--
Hey guys! I'm sorry that I was MIA for almost a month, and I have no other excuse than being sick and the rush of the holidays. Oops.
Also, I know that this chapter is literally half of what I normally put out at only 2763words compared to my normal 4000-plus, but this chapter is just a filler and a means to get to what's coming/the end. Please don't be too mad.
I won't be seeing you guys until after New Year's so I hope you all somehow survived 2019 and make 2020 your year! Good luck guys!
Don't forget to comment and vote while you're at it!
XX Blondie XX