Forever Blue (20 page)

    
“It’s
going to take some time.”

    
Ruth stifled a smile. “I suppose so.”

    
“Could you give me a minute alone with Alexa?” Scotty asked. “Just some personal business I need to talk to her about.”

    
“Oh, yes of course.” Ruth shot up from her chair and pushed it back into the table. “Just holler if you need me.”

    
Scotty took a seat in the chair in front of me, and
I diverted his stare by glancing out the kitchen window.
My heart warmed like melted butter when
I felt
his hand on top of mine.
Suffice to say, he was the only one who could temporarily drag me out of despondency.
I
finally forced myself to take a
good long look at him. He
was
slumped
down
in the chair as though every part of his body was defeated by exhaustion. His tie was undone, his shirt messily un-tucked from his pants. The poor man went through hell and back with me over the last few days.

     
One of his fingers traced
the outline of my thumb. “Baby—”

     
“I’m sorry for putting you through all this.” I turned away, fighting back tears. “My problems shouldn’t be your problems. It isn’t right.”

    
Scotty cupped the right side of my face and stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Honey, listen to me.” His lips gently trailed over the bridge of my nose. “There is nothing to be ashamed of. Life happens. I’m here for you. You have to remember that I once went through a very similar situation.”

    
“I just feel like I’m burdening you.”

    
“Never,” he said. “I’m here to stay.”

    
I took a deep breath and smiled at him weakly. “Well, then. I guess that settles it.”

    
“This may sound premature, but considering the situation, I think you should stay with me for a while.”

    
“Talk about being a burden, Scotty—”

    
“Stop talking like that, seriously. You’re anything but a burden to me.”

    
“We’ve only been dating a few months. Are you sure about this?”

    
“It doesn’t have to be a permanent thing. We’ll just see how it goes. I just can’t let you out of my sight right now,” he explained with a smile. “Don’t be stubborn, Alexa.”

    
Living in my house alone gave me the chills
when I thought about it, and although I did have some reservations, his offer was hard to refuse,
“Let me clear my head and think about it, okay?”

    
“Take all the time you need, kid.”

***

    
In court a week later, I came face to face with the man who killed my mother. According to police reports, one of Juan Martinez’s friends
had
loaned him the vehicle that night,
unaware that Juan’s license had been
permanently suspended. The man drove to a party across town, drank to his heart’s content, and proceeded to get behind the wheel of a vehicle, fully impaired.

    
From the back of the courtroom, I observed this human piece of filth act like one cool cat during the whole hearing. He was about five-six, with skin as copper as a handful of new pennies, a shaved head and two silver front teeth. He was nearly covered in tattoos, and looking at him made me want to vomit. His self-centeredness took the one person who meant more to me than anyone
else
in the world.

     
Juan Martinez was sentenced to a five-year jail term for drunk driving and vehicular manslaughter. I thought the verdict was a fucking joke. How dare the system be so lenient with someone who so carelessly took a life for no reason. In my opinion, he deserved the death penalty—or better yet, enough consecutive life sentences to have him rotting in prison with no chance for parole. But who was I to say? I was just a no-name innocent bystander who
had
lost a loved one. What did they care? As far as they were concerned, justice was served.

    
The first night I made the so-called temporary move to Scotty’s apartment was a difficult one. Leaving my home was more painful than I imagined. The new living situation would take some time to get used to. Scotty brought up a question I hoped to avoid
in the middle of a spaghetti dinner.

    
“When do you plan on going back to school?” He took a leisurely sip of his red wine. “I just thought I would ask.”

    
We had spent most of our meal in silence. I was feeling as weak as a sick puppy, and didn’t have the strength to keep up with any conversation. “Monday. I have no other choice. It would be like throwing money away.” School was the last thing I wanted to deal with at that point, but I made a promise to my mother, and
I intended to keep it as hard as it was going to be. I would use every last drop of energy left within me to pull myself through it.

     
“I’m proud of you.” He squeezed my shoulder. “You’re a survivor, Alexa.”

    
I collided my pasta noodles with a meatball and asked, “When your dad died, how did you manage?”

    
“I was just a kid, but I came to learn that death is just a part of life. Sometimes it’s just the timing that throws us off.” Scotty took my hand and entwined his fingers with mine.
  
“Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do to stop it.”

    
“It took me years to get
over my father’s death, Scotty. In fact, I don’t know if I’ll ever really get over it. I don’t know how I’m going to handle this second blow.”

     
“You have to be strong like you were for your mother. He dropped his fork beside his plate and cupped my face. “I know how vivacious you are. You’ll pull through this and I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

Graduation Day

1993

    
The day I waited my entire junior high career for finally happened: eighth grade graduation. Carter and I
had
talked about how we longed for this day to come
for months.
We’d be freshman at Irvine High
in the fall of that same year, and
I looked forward to the future. College was something I aspired to, and if I kept my A- average up, the sky was the limit.

   
Promotion day itself was kind of crazy. Mom ran around the house like a crazy woman snapping pictures of me all morning. She tended to go to extremes when it came to milestones. I woke up in the morning and there was Mom standing over my bed with a camera in hand. While I brushed my teeth, she snuck yet another unflattering shot. She would have made the paparazzi proud that day. I couldn’t go anywhere without her following me around with that damn camera.

   
The commencement ceremony took place on the athletic field. White lawn chairs were neatly lined in rows on the grass for the students. Families
had
situated themselves
in the bleachers close behind, and the eighth graders sat alphabetically by last name. I was nowhere near Carter. In fact, I had
not seen
him all day, which was usual. I figured he was just as busy as I was.

   
That afternoon was as hot and dry as the inside of a furnace. The heat beat down upon our backs like a vapor bath. Worst of all, there was no trace of a breeze for miles. I began to sweat uncomfortably. For an hour, we listened to the principal’s boring speech about life and the future. Then finally, he called on us name by name.

    
“...Alexa Moore…”

    
I jumped from my seat
the minute he called my name,
and sauntered to the podium. My parents rooted for me, their voices echoing in the background like a faint song. I felt the heaviness of the world lift from my shoulders
once the certificate of completion and yearbook were in my hands. Junior high was over and done—now life could truly begin.

    
I finally caught a glimpse of Carter. He walked up to the podium sometime after me, looking rather unnerved. He seemed distant and robotic, like he was just going through the motions. As I watched him, something inside me stirred with worry, but
I assumed it was just my own nerves.

    
I milled through the crowd in search of my parents
when the ceremony finally ended.
I saw them coming toward me and ran into my dad’s arms in a burst of excitement.

    
“Congratulations, sweetheart,” he said, kissing my forehead.

    
Mom
softly
ran her
hand
down the back of my head. “You’re officially a high schooler now, honey. My little girl, all grown up.” For a second, she looked like she might
have cried.

    
“Two more months, and then I’m fresh meat, as they say.”

    
“My beautiful daughter already
going to high school.” Dad pinched my cheek and smiled at me affectionately. “Where does the time go?”

    
“Honey, have you talked to Carter yet?” Mom asked.

    
“No, but I think I saw him across the way. I’ll be right back.”

    
As I tried to dodge camera lenses, I weaved my way through the crowd in search of Carter. Families, especially mothers and grandmothers—incessantly snapped photos of their pride and joys with tears
of joy
and laughter. I spotted Carter talking to one of his friends, Jason Fisher, by the baseball diamond. Tucked underneath Carter’s left arm was a bouquet of bright white daisies.

    
“Hey, my parents are probably looking for me,” Jason said to Carter as he ran his hand through his curly black hair. “Maybe I’ll see you at Derrick’s graduation party.” He walked off, leaving
me and Carter
by ourselves.

    
“Hey, I haven’t seen you all day,” I mentioned.

    
“I know. It’s been crazy, huh?” He thrust the
bouquet of daisies at me. “Oh—these are for you.”

    
“For me?” I asked, astonished.

    
Carter’s cheeks reddened like crimson. “If you hate them, I understand. I really didn’t know what type of flowers you liked.”

    
“Hate them? Oh no way. I love them.” In a fit of tenderness, I wrapped my arms around
 
Carter and embraced him tightly. I couldn’t’ help but be reminded of how this boy was my savior for the past year.
He always
unintentionally found new ways to amaze me, and
I admired him for his many virtues.

   
Carter tore from my embrace as though caught doing something uncool. “So we did it. We are officially out of this hell hole.”

    
“I know. Freshman year, here we come.”

    
“Hey, will you sign my yearbook?” Carter retrieved a pen from his pocket, and we exchanged yearbooks.

    
I stood back observing him as he wrote. It was then that something inside me jumped. I anticipated spending
the next four years with Carter, and
I truly believed
that I had
made a friend for life and that we would take on the world together. Back then, I was still a dreamer.

    
“Hey. There you two are,” Mom said, creeping up behind me.

    
“Carter, I believe a congratulations is in order.” Dad embraced him. “You’re off to the big leagues now, son.”

    
“Thanks, I know,” Carter said, flushed.

    
“Let me get a picture of you two real quick,” Mom announced.

    
Carter and I slung our arms over each other’s shoulders and smiled as she snapped the photo.

    
“Do you want to ride with me to Derrick’s party?” I asked Carter.

    
“Sure. That would be cool.”

    
“Oh—I don’t think so!”

    
To my left was Mary Storm, staring her son down like a spitting cobra ready to strike. She was dressed for the occasion in tan Capri pants and a white silk blouse. Darren trailed behind her in the far distance. He didn’t look any more thrilled to be near her.

     
She pointed an angry finger at Carter and jabbed it into his chest. “You know very well about your audition early tomorrow morning.”

    
At that moment Darren ran up to Carter and said, “Hey, can I see your yearbook?”

    
“But, Mom,” Carter whined as he shoved the yearbook at Darren in apparent frustration.
  
“Can’t I go out for just a little while? It’s my graduation day, and—”

    
She held her hand up to silence him. “No. You know the drill, Carter. There will be no arguments about it.”

    
Mom intervened. “Maybe he could just stay for an hour? We’d be more than happy to bring him home in time for—”

    
“No, please.” Mary raised her hand as though telling Mom to back off. “I know what I’m doing here.
I don’t need your input with
my
son’s schedule, thank you very much.”

    
“I’m as ready as I’m going to get for that audition.” He looked down at the ground and started breathing heavily. “I know it inside and out.”

    
“Well, then you’ll know it even better. Let’s go. NOW,” Mary shouted.

    
“No!” Carter said, throwing his certificate to the grass.

    
Mary’s eyes bulged out of her head like two cold black marbles. “Excuse me?”

    
“This is
my
day, Mom.” Carter crossed his arms, ready for a fight. “I’m going to do what I want for once in my life.”

    
My mouth dropped
in shock. I was utterly stunned because
I
had
never heard him talk back to his mother.

    
“Carter—” Dad began, placing a caring hand on his shoulder. “Son, maybe you should go ahead and listen to her. She is your mother, after all.”

    
“He better…if he knows what’s good for him,” Mary hissed.

     
My heart fell to the pit of my stomach
knowing the trouble Carter was in for after this little stunt. “Please just do what she says,” I said, though I hated the sound of those words leaving my lips.

    
Carter looked at me with watery eyes. I was usually able to tell exactly what he was thinking, but this time his thoughts were unreadable except for his angry and betrayed expression. Without a spoken word, Carter took off like the devil was after him. I chased after that boy to God-knows-where, but he was much too fast for me. I lost him amid the crowd. The athletic grounds were
as wide as two football fields, and there were a million places he could have gone. Trying to find him was like looking for the needle in the proverbial haystack. Clearly, wherever he went, he did not want to be found.