Impossibly Forever: Two Books in One (Impossibly Duology) (24 page)

  
Vanessa gave me a knowing grin when I closed the door and turned to face her.

  
“You naughty girl you,” she teased.

  
I cut my eyes at her. “Nothing happened.”

  
“Mmm-hmm.”

  
She took off her red coat, placed it on the back of the chair then plopped down
on my bed. I walked over and sat down next to her.

  
“So, I take it you’re not mad at me anymore?”

  
“Obviously,” she smiled. “That was silly, plus I need some girl time.”

  
The distressed look had resurfaced on her face.

  
“Have you decided what you’re going to do?” I asked.

  
Vanessa
laid
down on her side. “I’m going to tell
Calvin to give me some space.”

  
“What about Warren?”

  
She pressed her eyes shut. “I’m still deliberating.”

  
“Wait,” I shot to my feet. “You’re willing to drop your boyfriend of three
years for someone you only met a few days ago—”

  
“I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how I feel, Moya.” She sat up. “Maybe my
relationship with Calvin has
ran
its course. Maybe
we’re done.”

  
“No, don’t say that,” I replied in a low, childlike tone, going back to sit
down on the edge of the bed. They were the only couple I knew still together
after all they’d faced over the years. My grandparents weren’t together; my
parents certainly weren’t together. “You guys actually give me hope.”

  
“Hope about what?” Vanessa stared at me with dreary eyes, as if overwhelmed by
her situation.

  
I draped my arm over her shoulder as I answered, “That love lasts.”

  
Sucking her teeth, Vanessa hopped off the bed, pulling me up as well. “Girl,
let’s forget about that right now. We are going to go out and celebrate,
because not only did we finish the first semester of our sophomore year, we
sailed through our finals.”

  
“True,” I nodded. “Still, you know me and partying don’t go well together—”

  
“Uh, none of that whiny stuff again.” She tapped me on my nose and hauled me
over to the closet to get my black coat. “You are coming with me, and we are
going to go downtown and tear the roof off any building we grace with our
presence.”

  
She tossed my coat over my shoulder. While I put it on, she went to get hers off
the back of the chair.

  
“You ready, girl?” she asked, buttoning up her red coat and fixing her afro.

  
“Yeah,” I exhaled. “Let’s go.” I snatched up my purse off the desk, let Vanessa
step out into the hallway,
then
locked my room door.

  
 Hooking my arm around hers, we strutted down the stairs and into the dorm
lobby. It had stopped snowing; there wasn’t any on the ground when we walked
outside.

  
Getting to my car in the parking lot, I realized I couldn’t turn back now. I
would never be able to get out of not celebrating with Vanessa tonight. I was
giving up an evening with Branden, one that would have been great, but perhaps
I wasn’t ready after all. And admittedly, I didn’t mind loosening up a bit with
my friend.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Branden

  
It was impossible
to slip by Mom with a bruise on my face, not when she
was waiting for me to get home. She hastened out of the living room the instant
I entered the front door.

  
“Branden, we need to talk. Your brother will be here soon and I want you to
help me convince him that going to Spain is a bad idea. He’ll listen to—” she
paused and placed her hand at her chest when I turned to meet her gaze. “What
happened to your face? Have you been fighting?”

  
I didn’t think it looked that bad. I walked over to the mirror hanging in the
hallway to examine my face. My cheek was swollen, and there was a cut above my
left eye.

  
“Well?” Mom grew impatient.

  
I backed away from the mirror and walked over to her. “It’s nothing.”

  
She scoffed. “Obviously something happened, Branden. Please tell me you haven’t
been in a fight. For Heaven’s sake, you’ve had chest surgery only a few months
ago.”

  
“Oh give it a rest, Mom,” I groaned, getting tired of her bringing up my
surgery.

  
“I won’t. Does this have anything to do with Moya?”

  
Of course the conversation would end up there. Lately she seemed driven on
ending my relationship.

  
“What’s going on?” Dad entered the front door, Ashton right behind him.

  
“Whoa! Little, bro,” he laughed. “Kicked somebody’s ass, huh?” Ashton reached
over and gave me a playful punch to the shoulder. It aggravated Mom even more.

  
“Don’t encourage this hooligan behavior. You’re older, you should be a good
influence to your brother,” she scolded.

  
“I am being a good influence,” he grinned. “Look at him, he won. I’m very
proud.”

  
“How’d you know I won?” I asked.

  
He squeezed my shoulder. “You would’ve looked worse if you’d lost.”

  
Mom scowled and shook her head slowly. “Oh, you…”

  
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Dad piped in, confused. He settled his
briefcase by the stairs and took off his gray coat.

  
Looking at him, Mom’s eyes darkened. The air suddenly felt tight.

  
“Where’ve you been?” she snapped.

  
Dad hung his coat inside the closet, peering around with his forehead creased.
“My God, Deborah.
I’ve been at work all day. You remember
that, don’t you? That I work as a Financial Consultant in a company that bleeds
me dry, but I take it so you’ll have all the luxury you desire.” He waved his
hand about. “So our sons can have a proper education and receive opportunities
I didn’t get.”

  
Deepening his voice, he spoke in a more furious tone, “Even though I work hard
and give you everything your petty heart desires, you still make me feel like a
sore thumb whenever I walk through that door.”

  
Chest heaving, Mom tightened her fists into balls and lifted her chin boldly.
“Spare me your self-righteous crap. I’m sick of it. I know about all your
accomplishments. Just like I know you’ve been seeing that slut again after
leaving work every day. You son of a—”

  
“Wow!” Ashton interrupted, a sarcastic laugh coming out. “This cycle never
ends. Does it, Dad?”

  
My brother and I were like victims in our parents’ endless battle.

  
With regret in his eyes, Dad glanced at me, then at Ashton and said, “She’s
right. I have been seeing someone.” He turned back to Mom. “I’m filing for
divorce—”

  
“You’re walking out on your family for another woman, you bastard!” she yelled.

  
“I’m not leaving my family; only you.”

  
“Lying, cheating coward!” her entire body shuddered with each word.

  
Dad countered, “Hypocrite!”

  
“Disgrace for a man!”

  
I wondered if they’d forgotten we were standing there. Witnessing them bash
each other made this scene sad, yet trivial.

  
“And you wonder why I want to leave, mother?” Ashton’s voice came out rasped.
Looking over at him, his jaw stiffened in anger, his eyes reddened as he fought
back tears. I always knew our family problems affected him deeper than he’d
shown. Since he was older, he had more memories of our parent’s battles than I
did.

  
Composing himself, Dad stepped away from Mom and headed down the hallway,
shoulders straight, contented, not saying another word to me or my brother
about his wanting a divorce.

  
For some reason, I wondered if he loved this other woman; if he found peace
with her that he couldn’t find in this house. Whatever the case, a part of me
was actually happy. My parents seemed to hate each other, a lot. Divorce was
possibly the best solution for them. And then, there was a side that was sad. I
wanted them to remember the love they once had for each other—if it ever
existed. There was always a rumor that my mom had married him for money.

  
Clearing her parched throat, Mom rubbed her forehead then said to Ashton, “We
still need to talk about you going away. I’m not comfortable with that
decision. Branden, tell him—”

  
“I don’t care if you’re uncomfortable with it,” he grunted. “And it looks to me
like you have much bigger things to worry about, Mother.”

  
That said, Ashton spun and went up the stairs. He was never one to mince his
words, no matter how much they hurt. He’d been that way ever since our parents
started fighting.

  
I peered back at Mom. She folded her arms tightly at her waist, letting out
sorrowful sighs. In silence, I debated whether or not to say something
consoling—a habit of mine after an argument when she was the last one standing
in the stifling air left behind by Dad and
Ashton.         

  
She inhaled a deep breath then her gaze met mine. Maybe she wanted to reassure
me she wasn’t affected, but when Mom smiled, it was beyond pretentious. I knew
she felt her life was over, and I needed to remind her it wasn’t.

  
That’s what a good son would do.

  
“You still have me, Mom.”

  
Surprised by my words, she moved closer and draped her arms around me, sobbing
on my shoulder.

  
“Thank you, Branden,” she choked on the words.

  
Hugging her back, I muttered, “It’ll be all right. Everything’s going to be all
right.”

***

  
After the drama ended, I went up to my room to relax. My cell phone buzzed the
second I closed the door.

  
“What’s up, Warren?”

  
“Hey, man. You wanna check out a hockey game later? It’s at L. Roger’s Arena,
and I got tickets.” He sounded elated. So was I. It had been a while since I
attended a game, and tonight’s college teams match-up should be great. Not to
mention I wanted to get out of this tormenting house.

  
“Sure,” I replied. “Didn’t know you were into hockey?”

  
“Yeah, well, these tickets were a good deal; hope there’s a fight at least,” he
laughed.

  
I couldn’t help shake my head. Warren was something else. “All right, man. I’ll
meet you there in half an hour or so.”

  
“Yep.
I’m already downtown, so just give me a call
when you’re heading out.”

  
“Cool.
Will do.”

  
Getting off the phone, I went into the bathroom and turned the facet on to take
a shower. Waiting for the water to warm up, I called Moya. I wanted to know if
she drove home to Berlin Heights after all. The snow had eased up, still, it
was already dark out and I’d hate for her to drive home tonight. 

  
She answered after one ring, “Hey, babe. What’s up?”

  
“Hey, are you still on campus?”

  
“Actually, Nessa wanted to celebrate so I’m out with her now; going to drive
home in the morning.”

  
The thought of her being out now made me worry. Harrington was a college town,
and a lot of kids around here partied hard. No wonder Ashton ended up in the
wrong crowd, coming close to screwing up his life.

  
“Okay,” I mumbled. I didn’t want to be the controlling boyfriend. I wanted her
to feel free with me, to be able to go out with her friend and have fun. “Just
be careful,” I added.
Nothing wrong with that.

  
“Hey, you should meet us. We just arrived at this place called Laney’s. It
doesn’t seem as loud or packed as Sound Box, but it gives off a cool vibe.”

  
Crap! “I can’t, babe. I told a friend of mine I’d meet him later to watch the
hockey game.”

  
“And you really want to go ‘
cause
you have the hockey
fever, huh?”

  
“I’ll call him and cancel—”

  
“No,” she stopped me. “Go, have fun. We don’t have to be together all the
time.”

  
I confirmed, “You sure?”

  
“Yeah,” she didn’t sound disappointed. I was relieved.

  
“Thanks, babe.”
I unbuckled my belt and slid out of my
jeans.

  
“Is that the shower I hear?” her voice switched to flirty.

  
“Yeah, you want to come join me?”

  
“As good as that sounds, Branden, I’m not sure your parents will like us
showering together under their roof.”

  
Her response assured me my playful suggestion wasn’t too audacious. After
asking me to stay when I was in her dorm room earlier, I could tell our
relationship had reached the point where I didn’t have to worry.

  
“Your loss,” I teased.

  
She released a short laugh then said, “Listen, I’ll call you when I’m heading
back to campus. Have fun at the hockey game.”

  
“Okay, babe.
Thanks. Have fun with Vanessa, and like I
said, be careful.”

  
“Yes, dear.”

***

  
Later on, I met up with Warren at the ice rink. The game was really exciting,
with a packed arena of energetic people chanting on top of their lungs to
support their teams. It gave me a rush, watching a hockey game again.

  
I envisioned myself on the ice, heart pumping, my hand gripping the stick,
trying to keep position of the puck. There I was, in my high school team
uniform, strategizing with the guys, working our way up to the net.

  
The best goal was the electrifying one that won the game; on many occasions, it
had been me who made the shot. Victory tasted sweeter then. I couldn’t wait to
recapture that feeling next year.

  
At the sound of the horn signaling the end of the final period, the crowd
roared around me, jumping to their feet. My mind snapped back to reality. The
college team I liked had won.

  
Warren bounced my arm, laughing, fist-pumping as he jumped up and shouted along
with everyone. He’d gotten sucked into the game from the start, especially
after the fight around the second period.
Crazy guy.

  
Exiting the arena, we headed up the sidewalk behind the large crowd towards the
parking garage.

  
Warren continued to rave about the game. “Man, I applaud you for playing
hockey. That was one heck of a game. Those guys really pushed hard to win. I
was only interested in the fights before, but damn, after tonight, I’m a fan of
the sport in general.”

  
I laughed my reply, “Yeah. It’s like any other sport. I mean, we all want to do
our best to win. And those were two good teams too.”

  
“True. So, listen, the same team that won tonight is playing again the day
after Christmas. You wanna go?”

  
I was about to answer when a sharp pain shot through my chest. Voices muffled,
as if everything was closing in on me. Heaving, I pressed my hand against my
chest and slowed my pace.

  
“You okay, man? You gonna make it?” Warren asked, getting concerned.