23. …, Beau

2004

Samford University, Birmingham, Alabama

"Man, do you ever fucking speak?" I slowly lifted my gaze from the textbook in my lap to my roommate, Brock. A guy who had more personality and confidence than anyone had a right to have. He was borderline arrogant. My brows dropped at his tone, and I pulled an earbud free, letting the music still play in one ear. The earbuds and MP3 player were a graduation gift from my mom.

As a football player, I was required to live on campus. Apparently, living outside my father's constant attention hadn't changed too much for me. I didn't talk much, I was unsociable, and I performed like the monkey he'd trained me to be. Well, I wasn't entirely out of his sphere. My jerk of a father continued to impact my daily life as the new director of football operations for the college I attended.

Every time I considered his new position, I gave an inner chuckle. Despite all his local boasting about where the pair of us might land, how he wouldn't settle for anything less than an assistant coach position, he was the lowest coach on the totem pole...

The laughter bubbled out, probably making me look psychotic to Brock.

The only institution to extend me and my father an offer was Samford University, a Christian college in Birmingham, Alabama. The darkly hilarious part was that my father struggled with alcoholism and found himself in a setting that prohibited alcohol on campus and required their staff to project responsibility and restraint all the time.

"What?" I asked.

"Your cell phone's going off." Only after hearing the next ding did I register the sound. I leaned toward the well-worn dorm-assigned end table and grabbed the cell phone my father had gotten for me. I was only allowed the phone and a driver's license once my father received his first DUI and needed me to pick him up. This phone, like my other, had limited minutes a month, all in which my shitty old man used regularly. His latest DUI resulted in a forced breathalyzer. He'd been damn mad about that one.

But that wasn't the phone that dinged. It was my other one. The one that connected me to Dash. When I opened it, I saw a series of texts from him. Man, he was a dog with a bone, never giving up after all these years.

I started from the bottom and read up.

"I wish you'd text me back. Let me know you see my messages."

"You had to have graduated this year. I celebrated for you."

"I'm having a weak moment. I'm lonely. Am I waiting for you by myself?"

"I've never been with anyone but you, but it's getting harder."

Jealousy struck hard and fast, momentarily blinding me. He better not be with anyone else with all the waiting he said he was doing. After a moment of fire building up from my soul, I continued to open his messages.

"Please let me know if you see this."

"I'm sorry. I've had a little bit to drink. My roommate goes at life hard. People are in my house all the time. It's tough to stay detached."

"I'm still waiting. No pressure."

As I stared at the phone, an overwhelming need had me slowly creating a text back. He had to move on and let me go. What we shared wasn't real. Only the lovestruck feelings of two adolescent boys. After all these years, and everything I'd been through, I didn't know who I was anymore.

"I get your messages. It's helped me knowing you're there but now you need to hear me. Move on with your life. I'm not the person you knew. No one likes me anymore. I don't like myself. Go on without me."

I pressed send, mainly due to the frustration of having to use the number keys to slowly create the message.

As I sat there, pondering the emptiness inside me that kept me from feeling much of anything, a small spark of love ignited in the tiniest of flames. Another message appeared as if Dash felt it with me too. "I needed your message. You're wrong. Take your time. I'll always want you. I'm waiting. It can't be much longer."

I marveled at his unwavering devotion with me being just as determined to stay away from him. I'd ruin his life and ruin the happy memories I still clung to.

"I'm gonna go work out." I dropped the book and phone to my mattress as I rolled from my bed.

At the door, my roommate's newest girlfriend was standing there, hand poised to knock. "Omigod, you're huge. How tall are you?"

I didn't answer. Instead I twisted to let her in as I stepped out.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll catch you next time," Brock called out as the door closed behind me.

See? I'd been rude. I'd lost myself with no chance of learning to live properly again.