Whomever created the checkbox “It’s complicated,” did so with a story like mine in mind. Honestly, my story is beyond complicated. It’s flat out screwy. It’s why I avoid selecting a status at all on my social media accounts.
Especially when the title of “boyfriend” doesn’t do Brady Bennett any justice. I’ve been home for two weeks and haven’t heard from him once.
And surprisingly, I don’t care.
I’ve had a hunch for a few weeks now that he’s been cheating on me. Me not caring doesn’t mean I condone the cheating prick, just proves to myself how little I think of him. He’s been fun for the time being, but I’m ready to move on.
After all, every one is town knows the reputations of the Bennett brothers. My best friend Della is the only girl who’s even remotely close to locking one of them down. And those two flip flop on their relationship more than a fish flapping on the dock for air.
Hm, let’s see. What was today’s date? Ah, yes, they were currently on again.
Luke, Della, and I went to high school together. Brady was three years ahead of us, but we graduated last year.
The Bennett brothers were basically untouchable unless you were willing to put out.
And now that makes me sound loose and slutty, which I’m not. Far from it. I made Brady work for it. I really liked him in the beginning. Turns out we didn’t have anything in common other than a wild attraction for one another.
Della, on the other hand, has been off and on with Luke since sophomore year. When they’re off, he’s on every other female in town. It’s a smallish town, so everybody almost knows everybody. Those guys are small town royalty. Princes without the riches.
Luke and I typically butt heads. It’s only been more recent that he’s somewhat tolerable. After him and Della’s last break up, he stayed home a lot more than usual. And with me spending most nights at their house, with or without Brady coming home, Luke and I sort of formed a friendship. Over the last month I’ve spent more time with him than my own boyfriend.
Then Luke and Della decided to get back together. Not really speaking with Brady much at the moment, I went home for a change since my dad would be gone.
Usually, I stay at anyones house as long as I don’t have to return to my own. The only reason I’m currently home is because my dad’s not here. He’s an over the road truck driver. Whenever there’s a job for him—ironically around the time he runs out of booze money—he is on the road for two to three weeks at a time.
These couple of weeks have been spent in solitary bliss. No depending on others for a place to stay the night, no Bennett brothers drinking and hollering and causing a ruckus, and no father ignoring my glares of disappointment. The house is clean, and the stench of alcohol bleached from the air.
I’m sitting on couch in our shabby living room, flipping through a celebrity magazine and envying their riches, when that old familiar diesel engine rumbles in the front yard.
Dad’s home.
With the little money I make at the diner, I’ve manage to stock the refrigerator with a decent amount of food. I even made dinner for two most nights, freezing the leftovers for my dad. I’m not sure why I bother. There’s only one love in his life. And it sits inside the brown paper bag held in his hand when he walks through the door.
By now I’m smart enough not to hope that baggy is some small trinket he’s brought home for his daughter while on the road visiting exciting new places I’ve never been to. Walt Benson has never been that kind of father.
The loud, screeching screen door bangs closed once he steps inside the house. He unlaces and kicks off the steel toed boots at the front door. He’s barely out of his shoes before he’s digging deep, paper crinkling, and pulling a tall glass of amber liquor out of the bag.
Beneath all the scorn and disappointment directed at my father, he’s my only remaining blood, and it’s miraculous in spite of it all, I care about him.
Already used to his routine, I watch him trek across the old, worn carpet to his dilapidated chair. He’s not a big man, average height and more on the lean side of weight. No beer gut, but that would be due to his preference of the hard stuff. He doesn’t even take the effort to acknowledge my presence.
“Dinners in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”
He lifts his bottle to his mouth, taking a swig and then reaching for the remote. The TV breaks the silence and peace I’ve enjoyed by myself.
I decide to try again.
“I’ve put a lot of leftovers in the freezer if you get hungry at all.”
He grunts.
As short as his response, I lose my patience. My eyes, the same ocean blue orbs he passed down to me, the only thing that ties a similarity to me being his daughter, glares into the side of his face.
“Your silence is louder than your coddling. If you’ve got something to say, Livvie, just say it already.” His raspy voice speaks to the television.
“Would it actually make a difference if I did?”
“No, but whatever makes you feel better, then do it.”
“I would feel better if you ate something instead of drinking every waking hour of the day.”
“I’ll eat when I feel like it.”
“You can’t go on like this forever, Dad. It’ll catch up to you eventually.”
“I have nothing else to live for. So quit nagging about it, Olivia.”
He guzzles more alcohol, not once looking my way. His stoical tone never rises or becomes angry. It’s why I never had the urge to be a vile and disobedient child. I learned early on there was no way I could ever gain his attention.
My mom walked out on us when I was five, and it did a number on him. That’s when he fell in to drinking his days away. I was hurt and missed her and with his new behavior, I basically lost him too. He selfishness ripped my childhood away.
I tore my gaze away from him. Every where I looked around this ramshackle of a home was a reminder of her. The curtains she hung, the godawful green color she painted the inside of the house, even the pictures of their life before and after having me hung on the walls. He refused to take any of it down.
My dad was on the road a lot back then. Way longer than two and three weeks at a time. It’s what she hated the most. It’s how she justified spending tons of money on home decor. Dad never complained. He was the provider and that was all there was to it.
Until she had enough and couldn’t take it anymore. Motherhood wasn’t what she wanted at that point in her life. Not that she explained it that way, but what other conclusion could there be for her unhappiness? If she no longer loved Dad, wouldn’t she have taken me with her?
For all his faults, one area I can never place blame on is his lack of anger. He’s not a angry drunk, nor did he ever blame me for her leaving us. Although, I blamed myself plenty for a long time. It’s not like I had a parent to console me and tell me I wasn’t at any fault. I had to learn that on my own much later.
The closest resemblance I had to role models were Della’s parents. Della’s mom, Cathy, raised me in all the ways a mother looks out for her own daughter. She took me school shopping, was there for me when I got my first period, and set a second bedroom in their home so I always had a place to run to.
When I asked about my mom, Cathy told me nothing but the truth. She may have been a beautiful woman, but her personality was ugly to the core. Her vanity smothered any nurturing she could have possibly had.
I leave my dad where he desires to be—alone—and head back to my room. Passing through the hallway I glance over the pictures of my mother. I’m a near replica in appearance now that I’ve reached womanhood. Maybe that’s why my dad doesn’t look at me. I have the thick, long brown hair waving down my back. The same pert nose. A full, pouty mouth, and sharp, contoured cheeks. Other than my eyes, the resemblance is so scary that I pray every day I won’t have the same qualities of motherhood and marriage as her.
In my bedroom, I pack a bag. A large bag with most of my belongings. With dad on a run I was able to clean out my car and get everything washed and put away. Now that he’s back and falling in to his regular routine, I’ll be back to mine. Avoiding home, and living my life out of a duffle.
I expect to be staying with Della in the upcoming days. Nothings official, but it’s safe to say Brady and I are going to be breaking up soon. So no more overnight stays at his house.
No more one on one time with Luke.
Right when I was getting used to having his charming face around, too.
Swinging the strap over my shoulder, I close the door behind me. Dad doesn’t bother looking away from the TV as I throw open the screen door and step out onto the rotting wood porch. The force I applied on the door slams open so hard that once I’m through I can hear it bounce a few times before shutting closed all the way.
His semi is parked where it always sits, beside our small bungalow style house. My sandaled feet trudge over the uneven yard to where I parked my car. Tossing my bag in the back, I open the driver side door and get behind the wheel. It does its own screeching and grinding as I relentlessly turn the key over in the ignition. It sputters, but it finally cranks.
Backing out of the driveway, I reach for my crapy phone sitting in the cup holder. I would have been better off dumping grocery money in a new phone.
It’s late, and if I remember correctly, Della’s working tonight, but I call her anyway.
After a few rings, my best friend’s voice picks up in my ear.
“She’s alive!” Della shouts through the phone.
When I get time to myself, an entire house to myself, I become a recluse. She and I texted back and forth, but other than my shifts at the diner, I don’t leave the house.
“He came home with a fresh bottle of whiskey to devour so I got the hell out of there.”
“Not surprising. Where are you off to?”
“Not sure. I was hoping I can stay at your parents place tonight?”
“Of course. I won’t be back until late, but you know they’ll let you in.”
“Awesome. I’m really tired, so I’ll probably crash soon.”
“Did you work today?”
“No.”
“It’s only eight o’clock and you’re already tired? When did you become an old lady?” She laughs.
I join her, because it’s sadly true. “I know. I don’t know what’s up with me lately, but I’m exhausted all the time.”
“Yeah, weird. You can’t even use the excuse of Brady wearing you out with all that great sex.”
“Ugh. Brady. I’m so done with him, but I guess I’ll have to be the one to end it.”
“So it’s really over with you two?”
“I haven’t seen him in weeks. And you know I already think he’s moved on anyway.”
“What a dirtbag.”
“Yeah, Dells, you definitely got the good Bennett.”
“What! He’s a total player when we’re not together.”
“At least he waits until then instead of stepping out on you while he’s with you.”
“Maybe. Look, you don’t know anything for certain. Go over there and talk to him tonight.”
I chew on my lip. I guess it’s now or never.
I hang up with Della, pulling into the gas station to make a U turn and head in the opposite direction. Brady’s house is closer to mine than Della’s, but we’re all relatively close. All within a ten minute drive.
There are no good or bad areas of our town, but there are certain streets people will know by name alone that house the lesser folks. The Bennetts and mine are in that category.
Brady’s single mom died from breast cancer when Luke was fifteen, leaving him his legal guardian. He stepped into the role as big brother and took care of them both. Brady was a pretty stand up guy the first couple of years after their mom passed, but the moment Luke hit his own legal age, he only worked hard at making up for lost partying time.
At their house I pull in behind Brady’s old and battered truck the brothers share. Out of my car, I walk along the cracked, concrete pavers leading to their front door. It takes a few knocks before one of them answers.
Okay, so here’s the thing…
I know we just met, but you’re about to catch me in a little white lie. I’ve been sort of vague when talking about Luke Bennett. That would be because I have feelings for him. As I’ve mentioned, him and I didn’t always get along, so these feelings are less swarming hornets and a whole lot more rainbow colored butterflies.
That’s the tricky part. I’m crushing hard on my best friend’s boyfriend. What’s worse, I think he’s falling for me too. No words have been said, but it’s one of those things you just know.
Luke stands there, shaggy hair falling around his face, and watching me from his tall height. Brady stands at six feet, and Luke is about three inches above that. I hate the wave of yearning rushing through me every time I see him. It’s wrong in every sense to want my best friend’s boyfriend. I’m mad at myself for being like every other girl in his presence and finding his stupid, worn high school football t-shirts with sleeves cut off attractive. There is a silver lining, at least. I hate his hair.
All the girls, and their mommas if we’re being frank here, are in love with his long hair. Yes, it’s a beautiful, rich brown color that has natural golden streaks when the sun hits it just right. But the length sits right at his shoulders, unbrushed, and not regularly washed. I’ve somewhat lived with him. I know for a fact he doesn’t wash it every night. If the oil is visible, then wash it! Let’s not make this a trend, fellas.
Arms flexing as they extend above his head where he latches onto the door frame, his natural bronzed skin glows even in the absence of the sun. Both Bennett brothers may be equally popular, but Luke’s body is way more drool worthy than Brady’s.
“Hey,” I say, diverting my eyes from his toned muscles. “Brady home?”
“Nope.”
Luke’s giving off an unwelcome vibe, keeping me out and blocking the view from inside with his profile.
“His truck’s here.”
“A buddy picked him up.”
“Wonderful,” I retort.
“Everything all right?”
“Yeah, just needed to talk to him.”
“Haven’t seen you around lately.” Luke changes the subject, gazing down at me with his intense eyes.
If I had to admit one aspect of Luke that I find fascinating, it would be his eyes. They’re a dark, dark brown, warm and drugging and have literally made my toes curl at least once.
Okay, I definitely can not admit that to anyone. Ever.
“My dad was out on a run.”
“Ah,” he understands with a nod. “Peaceful?”
“You have no idea.” I chuckle. Laughter is short-lived when our eyes lock. His gaze might as well be an added limb on his body with the way I feel them caressing me. His arms drop and I think he’s about to say more, or invite me in, but I’m not one to ignore when the red danger sign starts flashing and blaring it’s horn. “Um, so I’ll see around.”
This is the way it’s been for months. Tension rises and we both feel it, but instead of acting on it or voicing aloud what I personally don’t want to hear, we shove the moment aside like it will magically fix itself.
The old saying, If you don’t have anything good to say, then don’t say anything at all, is a relative term. What I consider good—and want to shout above the clouds—would not be as sanguine for others as it would be for me.
I turn back to my car and get inside. Luke remains in the doorway of his house as I attempt to crank my car again. Unlike when I got it to work at home, it won’t start this time.
His voice is muffled through the windows as he prowls my way, barefoot. “Pop the hood.”
I pull the lever and climb back out. Luke latches the hood in place, then pulls his phone out of his pocket to turn on the flash light.
“Hold this, please.” He hands me his phone, and I hold it up above his head while he bends over to inspect the engine.
Della’s parents own the local repair shop. Brady has been working their since he turned eighteen, and drafted Luke to join him to help pay the bills as soon as he was able. They must be decent mechanics or otherwise Mr. Neiland would have fired them by now. He didn’t care his daughter dated one of the Bennetts. If Luke wasn’t any good with fixing cars, he would have been gone.
“Trying starting it again.”
I leave the door open as I turn the key over. He must of tinkered with something since my car starts up after a few tries.
I don’t turn it off as I step out and smile at him.
“You did it. Thanks.”
“It’s not fixed. Actually, you have a shit ton wrong with this car.” He releases the latch, lowering the hood with a loud snap. “Why haven’t you brought it by the shop? Mr. Neiland would have taken care of some of this stuff for you.”
“I don’t like depending on them all the time.” I shrug. “They’ve taken care of me for a lot of years. Besides, Brady told me he would repair it when we were dating, but he never did.”
“Were dating?” Luke shuffles his feet, looking down at the ground when he asks.
“I haven’t seen him in weeks. Pretty sure we’re already over, but that’s why I came by tonight.”
“So you’re breaking up with him?” He looks up at me with surprise.
“He’s your brother, Luke. I’m sure you’ve seen some things that would justify why I should break up with him.”
He nods slowly, understanding my meaning clearly. Hands in his pockets, Luke glances back at the house with sharp eyes. I take the opportunity to roam over the strong cut of his square jaw, broad chest, and sinewy long arms.
I’m not quite sure when the wasps morphed in to butterflies. I’ve known Luke since we were in elementary school. We’ve shared multiple classes over the years and he only grew more annoying as we got older. His smug Bennett attitude was an immediate dislike in high school when he would hook up with another girl to make Della jealous. In his defense, she would do the same thing.
But over these last few months I saw a side of Luke he didn’t show the rest of the world. His loyalty to his brother despite Brady’s actions. The soft, sweet words he’d say to Della from his end of the line that I never got to hear. He’s funny and charming and would go out of his way to put a smile on my face as I sat in their living room late at night wondering why Brady wasn’t home yet.
“The starter,” Luke says, bringing his molten gaze back to me. “It needs to be replaced. I’m surprised it hasn’t gone out already.”
“I need a whole new one? Not just some small parts?”
Turning that charming grin on me and sending chills all over my skin that has nothing to do with the Florida heat, Luke steps closer to grip the car door separating us. “You’re cute. Yes, a whole new one. I’ll order it tomorrow.”
“Are they expensive?” I cringe at the thought.
“Not too bad. And you know you get the family discount anyway.”
“I never let Mr. Neiland do anything for free for me.”
“So stubborn,” he argues, but accepts it nonetheless. “How ‘bout you pay for the part, and I’ll do the labor for free.”
“Your brother said the same thing once.”
“My brother is a jackass, and should have taken care of his girlfriend’s car no matter what she said.”
My lips twitch. “He is a jackass.”
“His loss.”
We stare at each other, smiling and exchanging those silent longings for one another. Stepping away before I do something stupid, my back hits the body of my car.
“Go on home,” he grunts. “No more stops in case the starter craps out.”
I obey with an amenable nod.
Luke remains in the driveway as I back out and drive away. Through the rearview mirror I see his silhouette until I’m too far gone. As I come upon the stop sign, I stare at those four letters. Literally a sign to end these thoughts, these feelings percolating for Luke.
The clock on the dash doesn’t work like everything else in my car, so I grab my purse from the passenger seat to retrieve my phone where I threw it when I got out of the car at Luke’s. As I toss the heavy bag back over, the strap gets caught on the gear shift, sending all its contents into the floorboard.
“Dammit,” I grumble. I reach overhead for the dome light. My surroundings illuminate and find every tiny tidbit inside scattered everywhere. It’ll have to stay like that until I get to Della’s and can clean it up.
Ready to click the light off, one item in particular catches my eye. My head tilts with suspicion at the green wrapper of a tampon lying among the mess. Tiny nails niggle at the edge of my memory.
Wait a minute…
When was my last period?
~~~
Weeks pass in a whirlwind. I wish I could go back to the days where my only worry was falling for Luke. But after I took that home pregnancy test and it came back positive, the life of Olivia Benson only became more complicated.
Della freaked out, like she was the one having a baby, then went into planning mode. She wanted us to move out together. Get our own apartment. At first, I liked the idea, but then realized I’d have to be around her and Luke more than I already am. And that really sucked. Because despite my world spiraling out of control, my feelings for Luke are circling just as hard.
Brady asked me to marry him. So that was fun. Not.
He thought the baby meant we were getting back together, but I sure as hell wasn’t old fashion enough to believe I needed to stop everything and marry the man just because I was carrying his child. The flash of relief I saw on his face when I turned him down told me he believed the same thing deep down. As of late, he seems less and less ecstatic about becoming a father.
It’s going to be a ton of new responsibilities. That’s why I can’t move out with Della. Shacking up with a single mom will ruin all the fun and reckless things she’ll want to do the moment she’s out from under her parents roof.
And if her and Luke don’t come off this rocky ledge they’re coasting on, she’ll only get more wild.
Luke shocked us all by enlisting in the Army. Since then he’s been avoiding Della when it comes to discussing their relationship. Not that there’s been much of one, according to her. She’s under the impression if they end things this time, it will be final.
Tonight’s his going away party. I’ve tried with every fiber of my being to forbid any further feelings for Luke to form. But getting them to stop is like forcing a train to brake on instant when a car is stuck on the tracks. It’s not happening, and the car is fucked.
He’s leaving town, he’s Della’s boyfriend, he’s going to be my child’s uncle, and I can’t fall out of love with him. I’m fucked.
My friends are moving on with their lives, school and careers and I’ve done nothing but settle. Accepting this pregnancy has shown a bright light on my own lack of courage. I work at the same diner I’ve been at since fifteen, making crap for tips, and telling myself I wasn’t in college because I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I don’t know who I am. I’ve coasted in this town as the drunk’s daughter, beauty pageant Della’s best friend, and recently deemed, Brady Bennett’s baby momma.
Who is Olivia Benson?
I’m not sure yet, but I’m compelled to find her even if it takes leaving Calusa. For myself, and for my baby.
I had to work the dinner shift at the diner tonight. By the time I leave work, head to Della’s to shower off the fried food scent, and drive the fifteen minutes across town to the farmland, the bonfire party for Luke should be underway.
Luke used to help Old Man Henderson with the upkeep of his property when we were in high school. The old guy has always had a soft spot for Luke, so when Della wanted to put a party together, Mr. Henderson offered up his land.
The orange groves lining the street deduces I’ve arrived. These dark roads have no signs, and the turn won’t be visible until I’m upon it. The winding dirt road ends at a makeshift parking lot, cars and trucks lined in rows on rows. I can see Della’s fire engine red mustang at the end of the first aisle, and pull in next to it.
A large fire blazes in the center of the open area, setting an orange glow over pitch black fields. Chatter and carousing laughter echo through the hollow trees.
When I approach the partygoers, my eyes instantly seek out Luke. Of course, he stands there with Della, drink in hand, and listening to her ramble with devotion.
God, I’m going to miss him. I’m scared out of my mind, but tonight I’ll choose to celebrate his bravery.
The closer I come towards Della and Luke conveys they are having a serious talk. My steps slow up to give them more time.
Luke left his signature cut off shirts at home, and traded up with a black Henley that hugs his arms and wide breadth shoulders. Faded jeans sit low on narrow hips, paired with—for once—clean, high laced boots.
He had me burning some type of way before the pregnancy hormones kicked in. Now it was a million times worse.
Spotting me, eyes blazing as strong as the fire behind him, Della looks over her shoulder to see what caught his attention.
She plasters on a forced smile as I close the distance.
“Sure that baby is in there, Liv? You don’t even look pregnant.” Her words are jittery and her smile is off.
On reflex, and to break away from the creepy look on her face, I stare down at my stomach. At fourteen weeks, my body from the outside looks the same. Although, I felt the first signs of snugness when buttoning up my jeans earlier.
“It’s in there. I’d start wondering too, but,” I take my hands and cup my breasts, “these bad boys are tender as hell and starting to fall out of the cups.”
My comment was meant to lighten the mood. It worked for Della, she let her trickling laughter ring the air. Luke, on the other hand, diverted his gaze and cursed up into the night sky.
We party—I party as much as a pregnant girl can—and hang out with some old friends from school. At one point, I catch Brady off in the distance, drinking and flirting with some blonde girl. It doesn’t phase me in the least.
Della’s thrown back a few herself, which leads me to wonder if her and Luke really are on the fritz. He watches her with worry, but it doesn’t escape my notice how they are not touching each other like they usually do.
As Della takes my hand to spin me in a dance with her, I reflect the happy smiles taking over Luke’s face tonight. This is a good send-off for him. We’re having so much fun it’s easy to forget he’s leaving tomorrow.
One song turns in to two, and right as the beat changes to something slower, Della spins me around again, but lets go before bringing me back in. Steady, strong hands grip my hips, my tender breasts colliding with a hard chest. My breath catches at the feel of Luke’s touch and sharp gaze on me.
I know I should put space between us, attenuate the tension before Della takes this embrace for what it is.
But song sways us, the melody entrancing our bodies to move as one with the dance. Maybe for this one moment I can give in. Just one song.
The safety, security, the sense of home is wrapped in his hold. They’re all notions I’ve desired and longed to feel ever since I lost it when my mom left.
My head falls forward, resting below his chin, and relishing the soft cotton of his shirt. We’ve been so good, kept each other at arms length. This proves why we had to stay at a distance. The safety he gives me also creates a whole new platform of unsafe.
Why did it have to be him? Why now? We’ll never be able to allow this magnetism to grow. I can’t be this girl. The one with no future, no grit. Luke is brave. He’s taking his life in his own hands and getting out from under his brother’s torment.
He can’t fall down the path I’ve unknowingly taken. Luke needs better, deserves better.
Della deserves a better friend.
With an abrupt halt, I step away.
“You should be dancing with your girlfriend.” I scan the vicinity for Della, finding her with a strange, void look on her face.
There’s no anger or speculation, and I almost get the feeling that she knows there’s a pull between us. But would she be resigned to it? That’s just me hoping for the best, the easiest way out of this.
Another step back; another foot detaching us.
Della whispers something to Luke, causing his sharp gaze to snap her way. The blaring music keeps me from hearing their conversation. Deciding to give them privacy, I take a walk through the trees. Following a trail, but making sure to not go too far and using the bonfire as my beacon, I find myself down a narrow aisle of orange groves.
My mind and sight focused on the starry sky, I never hear the approaching footsteps.
“Liv.”
The shock of someone’s voice in the serenity of the fields when I thought I was alone startles me.
“Jesus Christ, Luke, you scared the crap out of me,” I say, clutching a hand over my rapid heartbeat.
“Why the hell would you walk off alone?” Displeasure laces his voice.
“Because I wanted to be alone.”
“There’s a ton of drunken idiots out here. You can’t be by yourself.”
“We know all of those idiots. No one is going to hurt me.”
“For my peace of mind, will you just stay close to me?” He stops a few inches away, making it feel like the trees are closing in on us.
“You’re not always going to be around, Luke.” I whisper in the darkened space.
“It’s the Army. I may live somewhere else for awhile, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be out of your life forever.”
I shake my head, looking up and begging the stars to shift, to change corse and take me with them. “We can’t do this.”
Luke’s hand sweeps across my cheek. I turn in to his warmth, letting him cradle my face.
“I want you. Do you want me?”
There it is. The spoken declaration we’ve both been dodging.
I fight.
Then I fall.
Fall into his dark and luring eyes. Into the touch upon my face. There’s no coming back up when he drops his head and takes my mouth. I savor the spicy scent of him. The stars and universe shift, falling into place with our connection.
Luke kisses me, soft presses of his lips that morphs into a hungry bite of my bottom lip. The kiss deepens, and every noise crackling in the night disappears. I hold onto him, fingers grazing through his hair. He crushes me to his tall length.
The kiss is maddening.
His mouth is all-consuming.
But when a noise from the party shatters our bliss, I’m reminded the stars did not take us away. They only gave me a short time to cherish my destiny.
A destiny I wish could be altered, but it can’t. Taking even a taste of that will torture me for the rest of my days.
With a light push, I shove us apart.
My fingers tremble above my mouth where Luke presented me with the best kiss of my life.
“Liv?” Luke pants my name.
“What did we just do,” I mutter.
“It’s okay.”
“No,” I reply sharply. “Della…”
Her name is the one realization I needed to get me to turn around and leave.
My feet pick up speed, and I run until I’m safely in my car and getting the hell out of there.
No matter how Della and Luke end things, if he leaves town with or without his girlfriend, she will always be my best friend.
She’ll never forgive me.
~~~
My father all but kicked me out. It’s been two days since I left Calusa.
The night of Luke’s party I drove home—my dad’s home. The scent of coffee hit my nose as I crossed over the threshold. It was the aromatic signal of his short sobriety. A full pot of coffee was consumed every time before a long haul.
Therefore, he would leaving and I could have the house to myself again. Sit in a puddle of pity while Luke took a bus out of town.
But out of all times for my dad to finally look at me, to notice his daughter, it came at the worst possible moment.
“What have you gotten yourself into?” His disapproving voice boomed throughout the living room.
I’m not sure how he knew, he’s never been a doting father that pays attention to when I’m upset or in a bind, but something about my presence gave it away.
After demanding he not argue about my decision to go through with it, I told him I was pregnant. We never had the opportunity to bond due to his emotional negligence, that’s why when I saw the flash of fear in his eyes for the briefest of moments, I took it as another play of his selfishness. Not like he gave me many options to conclude when he never responded. He walked away.
Sometime later, when I was lying on my bed, he appeared in my doorway.
He asked, “Is the father that Bennett boy?”
I was surprised he knew that much.
“Brady, yes.”
“You’ll be doing this alone. That oldest ain’t good for nothing.”
He was one to talk. Father of the decade, he was not.
“You should go.” My head snapped up. It was one thing to stand my ground and tell him I didn’t need him to raise my baby, but it was another when he actually wanted me gone. Dad tossed an envelope that landed at my hip on the mattress. “Take that. Get out of this town, Liv.”
I stared at him, speechless.
“Go be someone you and your kid can be proud of.”
With that, he turned on his heel and left. The truck rumbled from outside. I sat there listening to that familiar diesel engine before it faded in the distance.
Possibilities flashed in my mind as I counted the couple grand my dad gave me. That was an opportunity, an out. And I took it.
My car was filled with most of my clothing, so I packed what remained.
I got in my car twenty minutes after my dad left, and drove out of town.
Luke called. Della never did.
A couple hours out of Calusa I drove into a populated city I wasn’t familiar with and found a motel. My car crapped out a few miles short of the vacancy sign. The two days that followed only got worse. I had to fork out money to repair my car, and then shattered my cheap ass phone in the waiting room. Defeat weighed heavy on my shoulders when I prepared to dial Della’s number in my motel room. Except I didn’t know her number or anyones for that matter, by heart.
I managed to get the number for Neiland’s Garage. Someone there would get in contact with Della for me.
It rang three times before one of the guys answered.
“Neiland’s.”
“Brady?”
“That’d be me.”
“It’s Liv.”
“Liv? Jesus, where are you?”
“Um. Tampa.”
“You ran off to Tampa?” He asks skeptically. “I thought you’d go further at least.”
“I probably would have, but my car broke down. How’d you know I left?”
“Every one knows.”
No good would come from my next question, but I ask it anyway.
“What do they know?”
“About you and Luke hooking up in the fields.”
“Wh-what! That’s not…”
“Della went on a war path.”
“No, no, no, no. It wasn’t like that. We didn’t hook up.”
“My brother, Liv, really?” Brady’s condescending tone grated my hysterical nerves.
“It wasn’t like that,” I repeat. “Brady, I need you to get Della’s number for me. I broke my phone, and there’s no back up on that piece of crap.”
“I don’t have her number.”
“Then give her a message to call me. I need to explain. Maybe I should just come back.”
“Her boyfriend just shipped out, Liv. Maybe give her some space.”
Space never was resolved. I never returned to Calusa. Never called the garage again, or spoke with Della or Luke. Brady came up to Tampa where I decided to settle and helped me move in to an apartment when I hit the waddling stage of my pregnancy.
Defeat took up a permanent residence in my bones, but I didn’t allow it to consume me. Not even when Brady started dodging my calls more and more.
I did learn from him that Luke moved out of state and onto a base, taking Della with him. They were going to get married. He said she refused to take my new phone number every time he offered it up. Somehow she could forgive Luke enough to move away with him, but not even the littlest bit for me to hear my side.
Brady fed me things I wanted to hear. Stuff like the possibility of him moving to Tampa now that his brother was gone. Shipping me baby necessities and helping build a crib.
Then the trips stopped. The calls were left ignored.
A baby was born, and I was left to raise her alone.
And that’s my story. I don’t get a happy ending. The end.