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I woke up in a pool of sweat two hours before my alarm was supposed to go off. Dreams of Meghan were becoming more and more frequent.
That day felt like yesterday, not over ten years ago. And Meghan didn’t really tell me to go away. We spent hours passing the ball back and forth. We ignored calls for supper at least five times. It wasn’t until the streetlights came on that we finally went in for the night.
So why does my brain keep changing the story?
Mom says it’s ‘cause I miss her. She says a lot of shit. Most of it makes sense.
But fuck, I’m tired of missing Meghan Grace.
***
“Really son,” mom whisper yelled in the kitchen so the girl in the living room couldn’t hear.
“What?” I demanded, immediately cursing myself for the defense rising in my voice.
“Spending time with Olivia? Why? For what? You’re leaving for pre-season practice tomorrow morning. You can’t start a relationship right now. Not that you should with that girl, anyway. I taught you better than that, son!” Mom opened the refrigerator door and rummaged around.
I’m getting her off my mind. I’m distracting myself from spending every second of my life searching for Meghan Grace, the girl I had planned to love forever, until she vanished from the face of the earth.
“She left, Mom. What am I supposed to do? Wait forever?” I had to remind myself to use a little restraint. This was my mother, after all, and Olivia was in the other room.
She could have called. Or hell, found me on Facebook for fuck’s sake. Sent me a streak on SnapChat or something, anything, to show me she still thought about me.
She didn’t.
Meghan left without a single trace.
“You’re acting like she left you on purpose. Her mom got a new job in the city. She didn’t have a choice. Don’t do something you might regret later.” She passed me two chilled sodas.
I grabbed a bag of popcorn and walked right into the arms of the girl waiting on the couch for me.
Maybe I’d listen to mom.
Olivia adjusted her thin white t-shirt. She may as well have taken it off. The view of her black lacy bra was crystal clear.
Maybe not…
Chapter 2
Meghan
Sitting on a park bench surrounded by silence wasn’t so bad if you had a place to go home to afterward.
I didn’t.
The last date my mother brought home was the last straw…
It was almost two in the morning when the clink of glassware outside of my room raised the hair on my arms. I peeled off my covers to investigate. My mother poured two glasses of champagne. The strange man ran a hand through his greasy black hair. He licked his hungry lips while his eyes feasted on my body.
I chomped my teeth, biting on the air like a dog warning off a predator.
“Ignore my daughter. She’s going through a strange phase.” Mission accomplished.
Whatever, I rolled my eyes and went back to my bedroom, making sure to slam the door loud enough to shake the house.
“She’s such a bitch.” My mother shouted. Takes one to know one.
My only hope of leaving that hell hole was a scholarship and my part-time job at a coffee shop.
