This love could make mountains move
Hope you feel the same way I do
I wanna be holdin’ you
When the dawn is breakin’ through
As yesterday fades with the moon
And forever fills up this room
I wanna wake up with you
I wait for her to say something, to acknowledge what I’m doing on the stereo, but she doesn’t. She holds me the same way as she did before the song came on. I can’t win for trying here and I don’t know how to get through to her. Right now, there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable.
“How did you get your song on there?”
I lean back into the seat and pull her a little closer. This is the first time she’s asked and maybe I can find a way to express myself a little better now. “It’s a crappy recording, but the player did an okay job.”
Josie leans into me and I use this moment to remember the scent of her hair.
“You’re going to move mountains at Texas, Liam. You’ll break all their records and win the Heisman.” Her fingers rub up and down along my t-shirt, giving me the chills.
“There’s more to life than football, Jojo.”
She chuckles. “Sure there is.”
There could be, I want to add, but she’s right. My path is football and she’ll follow me no matter what. It’s what we agreed to do a year ago when we laid out under the stars in the bed of my truck. The American Dream and I’m at the helm.
I have to drive her back home and hit the road. I lean forward and start my truck, letting the engine roar to life. Every step is now methodical and slow. Shifting out of park I wait for her to move off my lap. It’s all happening and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
I hold her to me on our way back to her house. Her parents will just be waking. Their coffee pot will start and her dad will come outside to get the paper. Tomorrow at this time, she’ll be sleeping in her bed and I’ll be in some dorm room staring at a white ceiling wondering how the fuck I got there. I pull up in front of her house and put my truck in park. I don’t shut it off. I can’t stall any longer.
“I love you Josie Preston. You own my heart. You stole a little piece of it the moment I saw you and you’ve taken the rest every day since,” I tell her. Before she can respond I disengage and step out, afraid to look at her. The tears will do me in. Destroy me like a dagger to my heart. I need her to be strong, but that’s a lot to ask of her. Our lives will be changing in a matter of minutes and all I can think about is that it could’ve been preventable.
Josie follows me out and right into my arms. I hold her, pressing her against my idling truck. My hands roam, cupping her ass. “God I’m going to miss you,” I say as my lips crash down on hers. She whimpers into my mouth as she cups my face with her hands. Her tears stain my cheeks. We part and I press my lips to her forehead. I swallow hard and clear my throat. “I gotta go, babe.”
She nods, but doesn’t let go. I bring my hands over the top of hers and kiss her one more time. “I love you, Jojo. You’re forever my girl.”
I pull her hands away from my face and jump into my truck without looking at her. I pull away, knowing she’s standing in the road watching me drive away. Everything in my heart is telling me to go back, but I don’t. I can’t.
Two weeks.
It’s been two weeks since I left Josie and Beaumont.
Fourteen days since I set foot in the hot Texas sun in the middle of summer. This is not how football should be played, but I’m here, trying to learn. My dad has called a few times, but I don’t return his calls. He wants to know how things are going and honestly, I’m too afraid to tell him. I’m not seeing any field time and the coach has barely said two words to me. I suit up with my pads on, ready to take the field, but nothing. No snaps for Westbury. I know I need to talk to him, but I’m at a loss as what to say. This should’ve been a sign. Actually, it was and I ignored it. When the coach didn’t make contact with me after signing day, I should’ve known. He doesn’t want me here.
It’s not even football that I care about right now. It’s the student pub on campus that I’ve started frequenting. They have open mic in the evening and I’ve been there every night. The first couple of days, it was just me and the kid behind the pretend bar, but as students started filtering back to school the crowd has grown. I’m not being heckled or having rotten fruit thrown at me so I take that as a plus.
Practice today sucked. That is the only way to sum it up. All
I do is stand on the sidelines, in the same pose for the entire practice – me with my helmet on and my hands cinched tightly the collar of my jersey – waiting for my name to be called.
It’s being called now. One of the students calls my name and I walk up on the small stage and sit on a stool with my guitar resting on my knee. It’s hard to think back to when I was packing to leave that I almost threw it out, but thought better of it. If anything, I thought, I’d be able to play it in my room at night. It’s not like I have a roommate that would be put off with my playing. Being up on the stage, in front of my peers, pouring my heart out gives me a different kind of satisfaction. It’s knowing that I’m entertaining them, affording them the opportunity to put their worries aside for a brief moment and just relax. At least that’s how I feel about music while I’m playing. Strumming my guitar and creating a melody, even if the words aren’t mine, makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something great. Hearing them clap for me, before I even start playing, makes me feel like this is my path.
But how do I change my path, one that has been set out for me for as long as I can remember? I can’t. I’m here on scholarship to play football, not play guitar and cover other peoples’ songs. At best, this is a hobby.
Tonight, after performing, I’m relieved. The stress from the day is gone at least for the time being. I like walking across campus with my guitar on my back and hearing people ask me when I’m going to play again. No one knows me as a member of the Longhorn football team, they know me as the guy who gets on stage and sings for them and I think I like that.