Keep Me Still (25 page)

He snorts out a sarcastic breath and steps out of the room. “Let’s go,” I hear him say to Skylar just before the door to our room slams shut.

“S
he
knows,” I tell Layla’s Aunt Kate’s voicemail. “And she’s pissed. And hurt.” I almost add, “And she hates me like I said she would,” but it’s not like this is all her fault. I came willingly. I lied when given multiple opportunities to be honest. I’m the one who fucked up the most.

Naturally.

I don’t say anything else, because what is there to say? That Layla wants me out of her life because I’m a lying piece of shit? That I deserve it because I fucked her, knowing we should’ve told each other everything first? That I should have let her decide if she really wanted me before taking it to that level?

What’s the point in telling her all of that? It won’t change anything.

After pounding myself into the concrete during the mind-numbing eight-mile run I took after practice, I shower and lie on my bed. There has to be a way to fix this. A way to make her see that I did what I did because I want her so badly. Because I love her more than I even knew I was capable of. I love my mom, yeah. Who doesn’t? But how many times did she turn her back while the Colonel shouted about what a pathetic waste of human life I am? How many times did she keep quiet when he punched me, shoved me against the wall, or flat-out told me I’m nothing?

So many I lost count, that’s how many.

Somehow, with her quiet intensity, her strength for dealing with all the shit life threw at her, Layla came out better. Stronger. Seeing her deal with her loss and her seizures made me realize I couldn’t let the way my dad was rule my life. I wanted to be better than that. Better for her.

And now I’m right back in the hell that is life without Layla.

“Dude? You coming?” Skylar pokes his head into the dark room.

“No, I’m not.” The bus is leaving for our game in Washington in less than an hour.

“Uh, I don’t exactly think it’s optional.” I can feel his disgust that I’m acting like such a pussy but I couldn’t care less. I’m used to disappointing people.

“I’m a walk-on. They can fuck themselves.”

He pauses, hovering in the doorway. “All right, man. I’ll tell coach you’re sick or something.”

“Whatever.”

He shuts the door and leaves me alone in the darkness.

T
wo
weeks go by, and Layla leaves me in silence. I’ve gone to Intro to Academics every day only to find Corin there, telling me to be patient and give her some space. I’ve been escorted out of Campbell Hall by her RA twice, and her voice mailbox is so full that no one else can leave a message now.

I’m out of ideas.

I’ve been running so much and working out so hard that I’ve outscored Taite at every practice. I’ve started over him in our last two games, even though I refuse to go to away games. I’m not leaving her, no matter what. Even Taite’s gorilla, Blackburn, has backed off. The whole team, and probably the coaches too, know I’m losing my shit a little. And no one wants to be responsible for me flying off the damn hinges.

After team workouts, the trainer removes the stitches from my arm. It will scar, he says. No shit. I’m scarred, all right. Marked with physical evidence of the permanent damage losing Layla Flaherty has left on my life. I stay in the weight room after the trainer leaves and decide to max out on every damn machine in there. Physical pain tends to be the only thing to take my mind off the other kind.

“Killing yourself won’t make her want you back,” Skylar says from behind me.

I almost drop the damn weight I’m holding. “I thought I was alone.”

“You will be if you don’t get your shit together.”

I snort. “Worry about your own shit, Martin. Isn’t that what you always tell me to do?”

Skylar comes around to stand in front of me.
Bad idea, dude
. All this hurt is pissing me off and I don’t know what to do with it. I kind of wish Blackburn would get all up in my face so I could let loose on him.

I am my father’s son, after all.

“I would. But your shit’s affecting my shit. Fuck, I shouldn’t call her shit.” Skylar rubs the back of his neck as I put my weights down. I slow my breathing so I can listen to the rest of what he’s saying. “Corin’s upset. More than upset. Layla’s barely even speaking. Cor said she goes to class, she smiles like a goddamn robot, and then she just sleeps all the time.”

I hurt her. Again.
“
Cor
needs to get a fucking life of her own. Or wait, she doesn’t have a
fucking life,
does she?”

It was the wrong thing to say on so many levels, and I know it. Skylar’s in my face so fast I barely have time to blink. “I’m gonna give you a pass this once, because I know you’re dealing with a…whatever the hell it is your dealing with. But I won’t comment about your freaky chick and you don’t comment about mine.”

If he’d called her anything other than “freaky,” I would’ve been okay. Memories of them treating her like a leper in high school slam into me almost as fast as my fist slams into Skylar’s face.

He bull-rushes me and something falls, clanking loud and hard. Somewhere in my mind it registers that a weight room is not the best place to get into a brawl. Too late now.

“Goddammit, O’Brien,” he huffs as I sink my fist into his stomach.

We’re rolling over top of one another when I hear the door open and a herd of footsteps pounding towards us.

Hands clutch me and pull me off of Skylar. Half the team watches as we face off with Coach Wicks between us.

“What the hell happened here?” Coach asks, looking back and forth between us.

“My fault, Coach,” I say, because it’s true.

“Girl problems,” Skylar mumbles, looking away.

Coach probably thinks we’re fucking the same one now, but I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks. I need to go for a run. A long one. “Won’t happen again,” I say, feeling guilty because Skylar didn’t deserve that and I know it.

“You’re damn right it won’t. O’Brien, you’re off the team. Get your shit and go. Martin, get your ass in my office,
now
.”

You’re nothing and you’ll never amount to a damn thing. How can any son of mine be such a goddamn waste? Oh fuck, are you going to cry? Get out of my sight. Go cry to your mommy.

“Yes, sir.”

The Colonel’s voice carries on in my head as I leave. It’s still reminding me of what I already know about myself as I head upstairs and start packing my things in the dorm. Skylar comes in at some point and says something but I have no idea what. So I ignore him.

“Where are you going?” he asks as I carry my shit out.

It takes me a second to realize it’s Skylar talking now and not my dad. Thank God I have my truck back. “What?”

“I asked where you were going, dude. It’s not like you have to vacate the dorms tonight. Being off the team doesn’t mean you have to leave school.” He cocks his head towards my bag, and I know I should apologize. I just can’t get the words to my mouth.

“It does for me. Back to Colorado, I guess. Till I figure something else out.”

But first I’m going to go see Layla. Try one more time to say goodbye so we don’t leave it like this.

“Shit, Landen, I’m sorry. Seriously. Why don’t you stay at my friend’s loft tonight? He’s still out of town. Sleep on it. Then maybe we can go talk to Coach tomorrow together and work something out.”

“Naw, no worries. It was probably time to go anyways. Shouldn’t have come here to begin with.” So I wouldn’t have hurt her like I did. Fucked up like I knew I would.

“Dude, seriously. Here’s the key to my friend’s place. It’s on 16th and Lane, above the pizza place. Unit D.” He slides the key into my hand. I take it even though I don’t want to use it. I don’t deserve his kindness. Or anyone’s. “Just go and get some rest and we’ll grab some food in the morning or something.”

I can tell he’s not going to drop it, and I’m exhausted. I should probably get some sleep before seeing Layla one last time anyways.

A
fter
a shitty night of not really sleeping, I wake to someone rapping incessantly on the door. For a minute, I have no idea where the hell I am. There’s art all over the exposed brick on the walls, and I’m shirtless in my soccer shorts on a black leather couch. Then I sit up, remembering the past twenty-four hours.

Oh yeah. Right. I’m off the team, out of the dorm, and out of Layla’s life. I’m so fucking glad someone decided to wake me at the ass crack of dawn.

I stumble over to the door and consider checking the peephole, but it’s probably just Skylar. Or maybe his friend’s a drug dealer, which is likely, judging from this badass apartment, and someone’s here to kick his ass.

Bring it.

Opening it without looking, my knees go weak at what, or rather
who,
is on the other side. It’s Layla, and she looks as bad as I feel. “Baby?” I say, reaching for her, but she steps back.

Red-rimmed eyes look up at me. “I went by your dorm and Skylar said you were here.”

“Okay…” Wonder if he told her
why
I’m here.

“I talked to my aunt,” is all she says. Her face crumbles and tears are coming.

“Layla, baby, please. Please come in.” The urge to grab her and hold her to me is so strong that it hurts not to give in to it.

“No.” She shakes her head and takes a step back. “She told me about the money. I just wanted to ask if you got paid extra for screwing me.” Her voice breaks on the last part and her pain pierces through my chest.

At that moment I want nothing more than to wring her Aunt Kate’s goddamn neck. The money. Fuck. Closing my eyes, I count to ten in my head. Lying to Layla has made my life a living hell. Well, keeping things from her has. Time for the truth. Though somehow I doubt it will set me free now.

My voice comes out flat. I’ve lost this battle and I know it. “They’d already given my scholarship away. The Colonel’s military benefits only pay a portion of tuition, and I had to come up with the rest, for the dorm fees and books, on my own. The signing deal for the Barcelona Club in Ecuador included a ten thousand dollar lump sum up front. My mom had already bought a small house, and I’d planned to give it to her to help out since I wouldn’t be there. Your aunt matched it to get me here.”

Now I can finally breathe without that pressing down on me. But Layla’s retreating, and I can see that something I’ve said has broken her. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have even taken the damn money, but my mom was so upset about me coming here instead of going pro, and she’s struggling and…” And I am worthless at helping anyone with anything.

“But you were going to go pro.”

“I was, because you wouldn’t answer my calls. Wouldn’t talk to me. Kate said the new meds were working. I thought you didn’t need me or want me in your life anymore.”

“So why didn’t you go to Ecuador, Landen?” She’s trembling, and my arms are aching to reach out to her because it’s just the response I’ve always had.

I take a deep breath, trying to suck in enough courage to be completely honest. “When the test results came back about the hematoma and your aunt said you were coming here, I thought you needed me—even if you didn’t realize it or want to admit it.” Wrong answer. I can see it on her face. My tongue trips over my words as I try to fix it. “And I wanted to be here—with you.”

Which is why I got my ass kicked off the team. Because I’m a damn idiot.

Layla shakes her head, and her mouth turns down as she steps farther away. “I don’t need you. I want you to get on with your life. Go to Ecuador or wherever. We’re done.”

Before I can say anything, she runs. Literally turns and sprints down the stairs behind her.

“Fuck!” I pound my fist into the heavy door, probably breaking all my knuckles in the process.

I
have no idea how long I’ve been sitting and staring off into space. Obviously too long, because Corin comes in with that look on her face. Maybe I’ve been here for the entire week since my last encounter with Landen. I know I haven’t moved since my aunt called back.

Latest test results are in. The mass on my brain is in too critical of a spot to even consider removing. Ever. There’s not a surgeon in the world that will touch it. I’ve officially become the ticking time bomb everyone in high school seemed to know I was.

“Layla, can we talk?”

“Sure.” Just not about me going to class. And not about my aunt. And sure as hell not about
him
.

She bites her lip and sits on her bed across from me. “It’s about Landen.”

“Then no, we can’t.”

For a moment she just stares at me. Her eyes are clear. I know mine aren’t. They’re so swollen from crying I can hardly see her. “Well, I’m going to talk. You can listen.”

I shrug because nothing she says will change anything. I was always a charity case to him. One with a big fat monetary bonus if he babysat me well enough.

“What I’m going to say is harsh, and I’m sorry.” She runs a hand through her hair. “But Landen handles you with kid gloves, and I can see how much you don’t like it. So I’m going to treat you like a big girl.”

I raise my eyebrows as she stands up, but I say nothing. Her forehead wrinkles, and I can tell she’s worried about hurting my feelings. She shouldn’t be. No one can hurt me as much as he has.

“You’re scared of living,” Corin announces.

Okay. Well, that was unexpected. “Excuse me?”

She stares me down. “I don’t know why or what the hell happened to you exactly, but you’re hiding from life.”

Oh. Yeah. That. “My parents were gunned down in front of me when I was thirteen,” I say dryly.

Her knees give out and she sits back down. “Oh.” Her eyes widen as whatever else she was about to say appears to fly right out of her head.

“I was going to tell you eventually. And about the seizures. How I moved in with my Aunt Kate after the funeral and then had my very first seizure on my third day at my new school when something exploded in Chemistry class. Pissed myself in front of everyone. I had some other…problems. Ended up hospitalized for a long time. Was homeschooled by private tutors until my senior year, when I finally decided to suck it up and go back. But no one had forgotten. They avoided me. And then Landen came and…”

I can’t keep going without crying. Landen saw me. He brought me back to life. And then he left. Then I brought
myself
back. And we got a second chance. But now I wish I’d just stayed numb, kept going through the motions, so I wouldn’t hurt like this.

Corin nods, and her eyes are moist. “He told Skylar a little bit about how things happened back then. But Layla, I’m going to tell you how things are now.”

“Please don’t, Corin. Just…I can’t do this anymore. Every time I think he wants me for me, it turns out everything he does is out of pity. He gave up his dream, for God’s sakes, to babysit a grown woman. He even got
paid
to do it.” God, I wish she’d just leave me alone so I can go back to wallowing in my pain.

She nods. “Yeah, I can see how it looks that way. But you’re wrong.” Corin’s frowning at me and I can tell she’s worried whatever she has to say is going to hurt.

“Fine. Spit it out. No more kid gloves, like you said.”

She lets out a breath. “He and Skylar got into a fight in the weight room. Skylar said something stupid, because Skylar’s stupid, but the coach cut Landen loose because he took the blame and he’s just a walk-on.”

Oh God. It takes everything I have not to let my pain leak out onto my face. “Well, maybe it’s for the best. Now he can go play overseas like he always wanted.”

Now Corin appears to be the one in pain. “Um, yeah. There’s more. Skylar felt like shit about the whole thing, so he went and told the coach exactly what happened. Their coach made some calls and got Landen a tryout for a team based in Spain.”

“Good,” I choke out because I know what’s coming. I know how amazing he is. How could anyone not want him?

“His flight leaves in two hours.” She glances at her watch. “Um, an hour and a half.”

Jesus
. Something inside of me fists itself into a tight ball. My hand covers my heart and my eyes clench closed. I don’t know what to say, how to get this pain out of me. But it doesn’t matter, because Corin’s pacing all around and apparently there’s even more because she’s still talking. “I checked with the international studies department last week when Skylar told me about the tryout. Since you’re majoring in Special Education, you qualify for the study abroad program. You can go with him, learn several other languages, and help kids in Spain while you’re at it. There’s a shit-ton of paperwork we’ll have to do to get you admitted by next fall, if you want to still to do the whole college thing even though…”

I hear the words she doesn’t say.
Even though you might not live long enough to graduate.
So all my secrets are out then.

“…but I can help with whatever needs to be done here. So, um, you have about fifteen seconds to get your stuff together.”

My thoughts scatter in confusion. What the hell is she talking about? How did we get from Landen going to Spain to me going? “He’s
leaving
, Corin. I’m letting him leave.”
Just like I did before.

“Okay, see this?” Corin holds up both of her hands and mimics pulling gloves off. “Kid gloves gone. Now get your ass up and Pack. Your. Shit. Skylar’s going to drive like a maniac to get us to the airport in time. Kate says you already have a passport, thank goodness, but you still have to get a ticket, go through customs, and check your baggage. It’s a twenty minute drive to the airport, but Skylar says we can make it in ten if we hurry.”

She reaches down and yanks my suitcase out from under my bed. I gape at her as she starts emptying my drawers into it. “Corin, stop!”

She freezes and glares at me. “No, Layla.
You
stop. Stop hiding from your life. If someone told me right now that I had a blood-filled tumor pressing on my brain, and I could die at any second, I’d get my ass out there and live. I’d be skydiving and deep sea diving and whatever other kinds of dangerous-ass diving they have. And if some crazy-hot guy wanted to reroute his life to spend whatever of mine was left with me, then you can damn sure bet I’d let him. If I’ve only got a few more minutes to live, I’m tying that fine piece of ass up in my bed and making the most of it.”

I cover my mouth to keep from laughing about the “ass diving” part. But she’s right. “I’ll hurt him,” I say softly. “When I’m gone, he’ll be hurting.”

I know this for a fact. I’ve been there.

“We
all
will be, Layla. And he has us—we’ll be there for each other. You can’t push us away because you’re scared that we’ll be sad when you’re gone. You doing that is as bad as your aunt trying to run your life. You don’t get to decide for us whether we love you or not. I do. Your aunt does. Landen sure as hell does.”

“W-what if he doesn’t want me to come to Spain with him? And what about you? What will you do for a roommate?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “I can almost guarantee he does. But even if he doesn’t, you need to risk it, like he risked everything coming here for you. To be honest, I’m not sure I can handle looking into your eyes for the rest of the year if you don’t at least try to work things out with him. And as for me, I’ll figure something out. Maybe get a small apartment or see if Skylar’s friend wants to sublet his. I got the job at the diner, so it’d be close.”

I bite my lip, shocked I’m even considering this. But I feel more alive than I have since the last time Landen and I made love. “My aunt is going to flip out.”

“Yeah, I called her. She did. Serves her right.” Corin goes back to packing, and I can’t believe what I’m about to do. But my heart is beating hard and fast because I
am
alive. And I’m going to live this life. Dammit.

“Wait. Shit. I’m doing exactly what everyone else does. Telling you what to do.” Corin freezes for a moment and stares at me. “What do
you
want to do, Layla? Where do you want to be when you wake up tomorrow? Here? Georgia? With Landen?”

The answers to her questions come easily. I don’t even have to think about them. Because I already know where I want to be. Who I want to be with.

It’s time I started living. For however long I have left. And tying Landen up in bed sounds like an excellent thing to add to my bucket list.

M
y
life flashes before my eyes twice on the way to the airport. When Skylar drops me at the curb, my legs are shaking for a multitude of reasons. Corin hugs me tight, and I’m a little bit sad we didn’t get more time together.

“I packed the Blu-ray copy of
Pitch Perfect
for you,” she says.

“I love you.”

She laughs. “Love you too, crazy girl. Now go get your fine piece of soccer ass.” My eyes are watering but I snort out a laugh into her hug.

If Landen were standing next to me as I buy my ticket and check my bags, he’d be locking me in a death grip for how hard I’m trembling. I put the eleven-hundred-dollar ticket on the emergency credit card Aunt Kate gave me. I’ll call her when I get there. I’m dying, so technically everything’s an emergency.

I finally find gate C11, and they’re already calling for people to board. Glancing down at my ticket, I see that it’s not my group yet. Is he already on the plane? Panicked insecurity hits me hard and fast. What if he doesn’t want me to come?

I’m about to turn around and try to go get a refund on my ticket when I see him. For a guy whose dreams are coming true, he looks pretty down. Slumped in the farthest seat from the gate, he stares out the wall of glass facing the hangars. An enormous plane sits in front of us. My stomach drops out at the sight of both. A little over an hour ago I was sulking alone in my room. Now I’m about to jet to a whole other country.

At least, I
hope
I am.

At first, each step toward him is like trudging through wet cement. But the closer I get, the lighter I feel until I’m practically running. “Landen?” I ask softly, even though I know it’s him.

“Layla?” He turns in his seat and looks up at me. For a second, I lost my breath. I thought I looked bad. His normally bright eyes are dark, sunken into his face and encircled by bruise-like rings. Either he hasn’t slept in a week or someone punched him.

Repeatedly.

“Did you get into a fight? Other than the one with Skylar?”

“What? No.” His brow creases. Oh. No sleep then.

“I, um, wanted to see you.”

“You came to say goodbye?” he asks, and a lump rises in my throat. His voice is like a little boy’s, hollow and lost. Suddenly, I have no idea why we’ve been doing this to each other. It’s love. Plain and simple. You love someone, you show it. Every day, up until your last.

“No. I came to say I’m sorry.”

His shoulders slump further down at my words. “Oh. Well. Apology accepted. I’m sorry, too. I should’ve told you—”

“Landen. I didn’t
just
come to apologize.”

His shoulders lift slightly and a tiny glimmer of hope shines from behind his eyes. “Did you come to ask me not to go?”

For a second, that option makes so much more sense than flying off to Spain with him. But Corin was right. I’ve been hiding from life, afraid to live for fear of how it might affect everyone when I’m gone. He came to California to be a part of my dream. Now I’m going to be a part of his.

“No,” I whisper, because I’m still nervous he won’t want me to tag along.

“Then what?” His voice hardens and I’m hit with solid weight of his disappointment.

Because that’s what he wants, for me to ask him to stay, like I should’ve done in Hope Springs. Any insecurity I was holding on to dissolves.

I step closer. “I came to say I love you. And to see if you have a window seat because there’s no way I’m sitting in the aisle all the way to Spain.”

Disbelief holds him back until I produce my ticket. He stands, taking it from me and staring at it as if it might self-destruct in his hand. “Layla, what are you…what about—”

“I was afraid,” I say, working hard to speak loudly enough for him to hear. “Of us. Of needing someone. Of hurting you. All of it.”

“Baby, you don’t have to—”

“Please let me finish.” I look up into those soulful eyes of his, the ones that have seen every single version of me. Lonely. Lost. Sad. Seizing out. Humiliated. Thrilled. Turned on. In love. “You came to California for me, to be a part of my dream. To keep me still, to keep safe if I needed you.” I take a deep breath, hoping the tears will hold off long enough for me to say what I need to. “I need you, Landen. I need you so much. I need us. I don’t know how much time I have. I don’t know how much time any of us have. But I know that I want to spend whatever time I have left, every second of it, loving you. Being a part of your dream. Please let me.”

The world around us disappears—the people, the planes, all of it, as his eyes widen and he sucks in a breath, taking in my confession. His gasp fills my ears as my heart thuds hard in my chest. I barely have time to blink before I’m lifted swiftly from the ground. Then I’m in his arms, where I belong. Where I’m still. And loved. And safe. I never want to move again. But I have to because they’re paging my seating section to board. His mouth closes in on mine and I open for him, coming to life as he presses his tongue into me.

I’m clinging to him for all I’m worth; writhing so hard against him he chuckles against my mouth as he sets me down gently. “And you definitely want to go to Spain? You’re positive?” he breathes against my forehead.

“I do and I am. Corin’s going to help me work out the details with school and everything.”

I can feel his grinning mouth against my skin. “I love you, Layla Flaherty. But if we’re going to make this flight, I have to go get another ticket. Because I returned mine.”

“Why?” I lean back and look up into his beautiful face. “Why would you do that?”

He tilts his head in the way that always gets me. “I couldn’t go, couldn’t leave you. Not again. Never again.” He reaches out to stroke the left side of my face, near my scar, and my hand meets his.

He couldn’t leave. Not everyone leaves.
Now my tears do come, tears of happiness, hard and fast as I throw myself at him once more. I can taste the saltiness of my joy on our lips. “Wait,” I say, forcing myself to break the kiss but not my grip on him as we make our way to the gate to see if he can get his ticket back. “Do you think they have milkshakes in Spain?”