November 23, last year

 

I was supposed to meet Jacob and Etta forty-five minutes ago at the same karaoke bar where we celebrated his nineteenth birthday.  Reason I was late?  I was a chicken. 

I kept falling on the belief that Etta didn’t really want me here.  Jacob insisted she did invite me, but I felt that if she wanted me crashing their tradition, she would have let me know in some way.  She was never one to let others do her talking for her.  And for tonight’s invite, she used a middle man.  The whole invite felt a bit sketchy.

I had to talk myself into going three times, so I had a couple of beers to calm myself down.  And it was on an empty stomach, because honestly, who could eat this nervous?  Eight years ago, two beers was a pussy drinking night, but now, it was a big deal.  Those who don’t believe a person can build up a tolerance to alcohol probably either never went to college or don’t remember much of it because of all the drinking.  A person definitely can, and they can lose it just as easily.  Since I went almost eight years without anything but the occasional beer and rare glass of champagne, my tolerance?  Completely gone.  Two beers, that’s all, and I already had a slight buzz.  Driving was not a good idea, but again, not known for the good ideas.

I parked.  With no red Beemer in the parking lot, I almost backed out and drove home.  But I would never hear the end of it from Jake, who already called twice to threaten me.  I got out of the car, reluctant to go into the bar.  When I finally made it inside, I wished I hadn’t.

They were there, in a corner booth.  Close, almost forehead to forehead.  She had dressed up for the occasion, more makeup and a short black dress that showed plenty of leg and cleavage.  Dressed up for him.  Her hand slid onto his face, smoothing her thumb over his cheek.  My brother and the girl I loved.  Anger was not strong enough. 

Instead of turning toward their table, I decided to get a drink or two from the bar first.  Strong ones.  Shots.  Two shots which I downed quickly.  I had only been super drunk one other time in my life, and right now, I was too distracted to remember the outcome of that night.  Therefore, blurred oblivion sounded like a really good option. 

I ordered two more shots and turned back to the table in time to see Etta jump up and throw herself into the arms of another man.  Not Jake.  And certainly not me.  Do I leave now and go home, or do I go see who she is molesting in front of my brother?  At least I could kick the shit out of this guy for Jake’s sake and take out my anger on someone. 

I walked over to the table and sat down. 

“Finally,” Jake scolded.  “I was really starting to get worried.”

“Yeah, you looked really worried when I got here.”  I hoped I sounded aloof.

Jake stared at me blankly for a minute until realization dawned on him.  “You saw her comforting me, Nate.  We were talking about Ashley.”  He took a drink of his beer.  “You know how she is toward her friends.  That’s all we are.”

That’s the trouble.  I did know how she was with her friends.  I just didn’t know how she was with her more-than friends.  It was looking like I’d never know.

I looked over where she was standing about ten feet away with her arm linked through the mystery guy’s, talking animatedly.  Touching his chest.  Smiling flirtatiously.  “What about him?  He just a friend?”

Jake leaned forward over the table and looked at me seriously.  “Nate, you need to tell her how you still feel.  You haven’t admitted it yet to anyone, probably only to yourself, but I see it.  Do it.  Tonight.  Follow your own advice.”  When I raised my eyebrows in question, he added,  “‘Fortune favors the brave.’  ‘No guts, no glory.’”  He smiled.  “Trust me.”

“You’re just full of clichés tonight, aren’t you?” I snarked. 

“Hey, Nathaniel,” Etta called, pulling her guest over by the arm.  “Look who I asked to join us.” 

I looked up and made eye contact with her former mentor.  I forced a smile and stood, extending my hand.  “Jackson, how’ve you been?”

He took my hand and shook it.  “Better than you lately,” he joked, clapping me on the shoulder.  At least I think he was joking.  It irritated me none the less.  “How’s the rehab coming?”

“I’m sure Etta knows more about that than I do,” I remarked, trying really hard not to sound like a smartass.  The look she shot me told me I hadn’t achieved my goal.  “Ask her.” 

She looked pissed for a second, then turned to Jackson and started explaining my case and her treatment style.  Talking about me like I wasn’t even there.  My case morphed into talking about the past, funny stories they shared with Jake and me, and by with us, I mean we were allowed to listen because we certainly weren’t involved in the conversation.  She laughed with him.  She touched his arm three times.  She touched his thigh twice.  He had his left arm around the back of the booth behind her.  She turned slightly toward him, and I’m sure their thighs were touching.  Intimate.  She never looked my direction.  She only had her silvery-bluish-green eyes trained on him.  She never acknowledged me at all.  All I could do was order and consume four more shots and hide my pissed-off dejection.  Again. 

I put in a request to sing somewhere around shot seven.  I picked a song I knew well, one I liked, with no regard for anything other than it’s rocking-out potential, well mostly that.  I also picked it because I knew Etta would never have ever heard it.  It was a slow night, because one song later, the DJ called my name. 

“You’re going to sing?” Etta asked skeptically, finally sending some attention my way. 

“Yep.  You remember how much I love to sing.”  I steeled my eyes at her.  “Can’t resist a good song.”

I stood and made my way to the stage, trying not to stumble.  I had chosen to sing for her again, because that always worked so well in the past.  I chose Papa Roach’s “I Almost Told You that I Loved You,” really just for the title, kind of as a big middle finger to Etta.  But if I had been sober, I would have remembered it was a not-nice song.  Not just in the title, but the other lyrics as well.

I stepped off the stage once the song started, really putting on a show, singing a line to every girl I came across.  I even dipped and kissed one during a non-singing part.  I put my all in it, one-hundred percent of my drunken self.  I glanced at Etta and noticed she wasn’t really watching me, but once I sang the first line of the chorus, the title of the song, she whipped her head my direction and her mouth fell open.  I pretended I didn’t notice and continued my performance to every girl in the place. 

The crowd reacted to me, some instantly recognizing me, and it just spurred my antics.  Hips thrusting and gyrating, often in the faces of the women I passed.  I did sing one line directly to Etta, one that talked about not being the one she wanted.  She was across the room and I couldn’t see her face, but I felt her eyes burning into me.  I smirked before turning to another girl, pulling her close to me and swaying with her.  I made my way back up to the stage for my big finish, complete with mic drop. 

Drunk as I was, I thought my performance was on fire.  If I was sober, I would have realized it was an asinine song choice.  Drunk as I was, I didn’t see how wounded Etta appeared.  If I was sober, I would have seen the cell phone cameras videoing every second of it.  The audience did seem to enjoy it though.  I was not imagining the standing ovation.

Jake stood next to the stage as I stumbled off of it. 

“What the fuck was that, Nate?”

“What?” I spat at him, trying to look innocent.  “I like that song.”

He grabbed his head with both hands.  “You’re a fucking idiot.  There are no words.”  He paced back and forth.  “I’m fucking speechless.”  He held out his hand.  “Keys.  Now!”  I reached in my pocket and handed them over, slightly confused as to why he wanted them.  “You find another way home tonight.  When you sober up tomorrow, you will understand what you just did.” 

He turned and walked away.  I dazedly watched him leave, his arm around Etta. 

His fucking arm around Etta.

I returned to the table and met Jackson’s angry face. 

“I’m surprised you’re still here, Jackson,” I slurred, finally understanding how drunk I really was.  “I thought you’d be taking Etta home.”

He narrowed his eyes at me.  “Oh my God, that’s what this whole night was about?”  He shook his head in disbelief.  “You’re jealous?”  He stepped toward me and lowered his tone.  “I thought you knew.”  He paused, studying my face.  “You really didn’t know I’m gay?  I have been out for twelve years.” 

I sat down in the booth, stunned, starting to piece together what I’d done while he continued talking.  “Etta asked me here to try to talk me into coming and working for her.  She’s been asking me for years.”  He waited for me to say something.  “I told you once not to screw things up with her, but man, you really are a dumbass.”  He sat down and called the waitress over to order some food, coffee, and water.  “What was all that, anyway?”

I laughed humorlessly. “That was me fucking up again.” I covered my face, hiding the tears threatening to fall.  I waited for the waitress to deliver the coffee before I started talking, and then I couldn’t stop.

I confessed everything to Jackson.  What happened eight years ago, how I felt then, how I tried to get over her, how I never did, and how it all came back when I saw her.  He listened and didn’t judge.  We sat there for two hours while I confessed my deepest secret to him. 

“Got news for you, Nate.  The way you looked at her back then?  It wasn’t any big secret.  I saw it.  The team saw it.  Coach saw it.  Everyone with eyes saw it.” 

“Yeah?  Well, how come she didn’t?”

He sighed.  “Apparently she’s as big a dumbass as you are.”  He smiled.  “C’mon.  I’ll drive you home.”

My drunkenness was not completely gone, but it had worn off enough that I could give lucid directions to my house.  When we got there, I turned to face Jackson.

“Thanks, Jackson, for listening to me whine and for the ride home.”  I held out my hand and he shook it.  “I am really sorry for, well, making an ass out of myself.”

He laughed.  “Yeah, well, you did nail that song.  I didn’t know you could sing like that.” 

I opened the car door, then I turned back to face him.  “Hey, accept Etta’s offer.  It shouldn’t even be a consideration.  She needs someone like you there.  You two always did make a great team.  I’m sure you would just make her more successful.”

He smiled.  “I am going to accept it.”  He held out his hand to shake.  “Night, Nate.”

I watched him drive away.  Since Jake had taken my keys away, I had to punch in the code to open the garage door to get into the house.  Both my car and Jake’s were in their usual spots.  Funny how I forgot about my car.  But if both were here, it meant that Etta drove one.  Which meant she could still be here.  With Jake. 

No.  Jake wouldn’t do that to me.  I shook off the thought and walked in the house.

I heard it.

Them.

Having sex. 

In.  My.  House. 

Homicidal. 

I rounded into the living room and I could only see Jake.  Fucking her from behind.  Holding her by her wrists with her arms behind her.  A position I’d dreamed of with Etta.

I never looked at her.  I couldn’t.

I grabbed him around the neck and pulled him away from her, not caring that he was naked.  Not caring that his still-hard cock waved at me.  Not caring that the betraying bitch screamed.  Not caring that he was my brother whom I loved.  Not caring about anything.  I swung at him full throttle, connecting with the edge of his chin.  He fell back, but I grabbed him under the arms before he fell on the ground.  I shoved him up against the wall, my forearm to his throat.  He grabbed my wrist and tried to push back, but I was fueled by too much anger and adrenaline to be moved.  I grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him back again, forcing my arm against his neck again.

I felt something scratch at me, but I was too focused on killing my brother to see what it was.

“No, get back, Ashley!” Jake coughed out. 

I pulled back my arm again, ready to swing.

Wait.

Did he say Ashley?

I took a step back and froze.  Jake took the opportunity to scramble away from me and threw Ashley something to cover herself and led her out of the room. 

I don’t know how long I stayed there.  I couldn’t see.  I couldn’t feel.  I was numb and blind.  The only other time I remembered feeling like that was when my dad died.  Except then I had Etta.  Now I didn’t.  And I’d probably lost my brother, too.  And when Mom found out… I’d lose everyone.  No career.  No girl.  No family.  Completely alone. 

And I deserved every ounce of it. 

I felt an arm around me, guiding me to the couch.  I sat.  Something cold was placed on my hand.  Having a hard time focusing my eyes, I saw blurry, slender fingers holding an ice pack on my knuckles.  My eyes traveled up her arm to her face.  Ashley, blurry, but smiling sadly.  She reached up and wiped my face. 

“Don’t.”  I sobbed.  Explains why she was blurry.  I was crying.  Crying.  Like a baby.  And I didn’t care.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t be nice to me.  I don’t deserve it.”

“Why would you say that?”

“You were there.  I freaked out on my brother.”  I dropped my head back on the couch.  “Oh, God, Jake.  Is he okay?”

She smiled.  “He might have a couple of bruises.  When you slammed him, I thought you’d kill him.  Luckily, you backed off.  I was about to knock you over the head.”  She smiled.  “I was actually coming down to get him an ice pack and found you in the same place we left you.”  She pulled her feet under her and turned toward me.  “You looked like you needed a friend.”

“Those are in short supply with me.”  I handed her the ice pack.  “Take this to him.  He needs it more than I do.”

She grabbed the ice pack and walked into the kitchen.  I heard doors open and close, and she walked back to the couch with an array of snacks and two bottles of water.  She handed me a bottle and settled next to me.

“What are you doing?  Jake probably is wondering where you are.”

“I’m not leaving you to have this pity party alone.  I thought it could use some food.”  She opened a jar of peanuts.  “So, you punched your brother.  Big deal.  I fell in love with my best friend while my fiancé was deployed.”

“I fell in love with my best friend.”

“Then I lied about it to everyone for months,” Ashley confessed.

“I lied about it for two years.”  I smiled. 

“Then I cheated on said fiancé two days before he’s due back home,” she added, pouring some peanuts in her hand.

 “I waited until the night before I moved to another state to try to confess my love for my best friend, in public, I might add.”

She popped a few nuts in her mouth.   “My best friend tells me he loves me, and I tell him I’m going to spend a month with my fiancé.”

“I got rejected by the girl I love and cut every one of my friends out of my life.”

She handed me the jar of peanuts and grabbed the bag of chocolate.  “I didn’t contact the guy I loved the whole time I was with my fiancé, all the while trying to find inventive excuses to not have sex with the fiancé I haven’t seen in two years.  I left my love hanging for weeks while he wondered what was happening.  In fact, I asked him to stop contacting me because the guilt was killing me.”

 I poured peanuts in my hand.  “I sang a song tonight to the only girl I’ve ever loved that basically said that when I confessed my love, I lied and I only said it to fuck her, causing her to leave the bar with my brother.”

“Oooh, harsh.”  She unwrapped a chocolate and popped it into her mouth.  “I waited until three days before my fiancé goes back to Afghanistan to tell him about your brother, only to have him tell me he fell in love with a fellow female soldier over there.  It explained why he wasn’t too pushy about the no-sex thing.  However, that just meant I wasted the month being away from a man who loves me on a man who doesn’t.”

“Wow, that sucks.”  I shoved half of the handful of nuts in my mouth.  “I punched my brother because I came home from the bar and thought he was fucking the girl I love.”

“Ah, that makes sense now.”  She nodded her head.  “We both thought you just snapped.” 

“Well, I kinda did,” I admitted, grabbing and unwrapping a chocolate.  “I didn’t see you naked or anything, by the way.  I was too focused on killing Jake.”

She laughed.  “Yeah, because that’s what I was worried about.”  She pushed me playfully in the arm.  “It was awkward enough like it was.  I felt like we were in some slasher flick.  The kids having sex always get hacked first.” 

My face turned serious.  “I am so sorry about that.  Leave it to me to ruin your reunion.”  I sighed.  “I’m sure Jake hates me.”

“No, he could never hate you, Nathaniel.  He might be mad, but he’ll get over it.”  She ate one more chocolate.  “Look, the reason I started our little confessional here is that I wanted you to know that you weren’t the only one who made stupid mistakes, especially in love.  It’s actually pretty common.”  She paused.  “The thing I had in my favor was that Jacob never gave up on me, even when I asked him to, he didn’t.” 

“Yeah, he’s a great guy.”  I sighed again.  “But…”

“But nothing, Nathaniel.  Look, that chick you love, it is Etta right?”  I nodded.  “It sounds to me like both of you are to blame for this mess.  I’ll tell you a little secret… she loves you, too.  I heard her tell Jacob.  He took me to one of their bar nights right before you started physical therapy.”  I started to say something, but she held up her hand.  “She made him swear not to tell you, so don’t get mad at him.  I, however, promised nothing.  She said something about being burned by you and that you never loved her.  She’s stupid if you ask me.  It’s so obvious you do.”  She smiled.  “You just have to convince her you do and don’t give up until she believes you.” 

“How do I do that?”

She bit both her lips together.  “I’m not sure.  After your song… was it Papa Roach?”  I nodded.  “I love that song.  Anyway, she’s probably pretty hurt and pissed off.  Apologize.  As soon as you think she’ll listen.  You probably should give her time to cool off first, but find a way to get her to listen to you.  Throw her everything you have.  Give her no choice but to believe you.” 

“You’ve never seen the real Eddie.  The only person more stubborn than her is probably my mom, and Eddie might even have her beat.”

“Employ your mom then.  Find out what would work for her and try with Etta.”

“Good luck with that, Nate,” Jake said, startling both Ashley and me.

“My God, Jake.”  I stood up.  “I’m so sorry.”  I walked slowly toward him.  “I thought Ashley was Etta, and I just…”

“I heard.”  He studied me for a minute.  “I’ve been down here for a while.”

“Eavesdropping?” Ashley tsked, walking to Jake’s side.  “Jacob Slaughter, I’m shocked.”  She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close.

“Nate, I’m still pissed.  But I can’t guarantee I wouldn’t have done the same if I thought you were with Ashley.”  His brow furrowed.  “But what you did at the bar was uncalled for.”  He shook his head.  “That song… it was just… cruel.  You can’t just say you were drunk and expect her to forgive you.  Honestly, seeing her reaction, I’m not sure she ever will.”

“Sure she will.  She has to,” Ashley included. 

She’s right.  Etta has to forgive me.