New Forever (5 page)

“What’d he give you?” Dee asks once Doctor McHottie is out of earshot.

“His number.” Jill grins from ear to ear as she shows us his prescription for trouble.

On the top of the prescription pad, we could see his name was Devon Haughtry, followed by his phone number and the following message:

Prescription: A night of reckless fun and kissing.

Dosage: Repeat as needed.

Side effects may include hot flashes, feelings of extreme sexiness, and chapped lips.

“Chapped lips?” Jill licks her lips nervously and looks at us.

I pucker my lips together and begin to blow kisses in Jill’s direction as her eyes widen. Oh, there would be lots of kissing. I could feel the heat rising from my toes and almost envy Jill and her upcoming date with Dr. Devon
Hottie
.

“Get the hell out of here!” Kelly shouts, but covers her mouth when we all stare at her. “We want details, Jill. Lots and lots of details after your date.”

“Still in pain,” Blotchy mumbles, but none of us care.

Yeah, I’d say payback was a bitch. Or rather payback was four crazy bitches, at least one of which was tired of men and their small-minded bullshit.

I managed to get a shower at the local community college before heading to Starbucks, which is a plus in my corner considering the employees at Starbucks wouldn’t let me in if I smelled and looked like I did this morning. Less than twenty-four hours and already I can smell myself in a not so great way.

It’s funny how some things fall into place as if they belong there. In my old life, I took to the streets as if it were an extra appendage – as if it had always been there but I had somehow missed it. I hadn’t missed any of the comforts from home, not even the certainty of food.

Everything changed when I met Hayley. For the first time in years, I found myself wanting more. And that wanting turned into needing, because I needed to be the kind of man that could provide for his girl. What caveman instincts drive each man to be a better version of himself when he meets the right girl? I still want to be that man for her even though she’s no longer a part of my existence.

Now, I can’t fathom a day without the simplicity of a shower. Even without Hayley, I know I have to work and be the kind of man she can continue to be proud of. Her pride in me fills me and drives me to work harder. To be something and someone. Missing her washes over me in dangerous waves until I’m certain I’ll drown in my longing for her. But life pulled us apart and I have to live knowing that I made the right decision for her.

I stand in line for a fancy cup of coffee I really can’t afford, but I’ll pay for anyway knowing I won’t be allowed to take up their Wi-Fi if I don’t pay for something. That little rule will be their downfall when my empty stomach retaliates to the sudden onslaught of caffeine.

No longer accustomed to the ache of an empty stomach, I also order a muffin and then sit in a chair furthest away from everyone and plug my dead laptop into the wall. There was a point in my life when I actually enjoyed the hunger because I felt like it redeemed me. Softened by two years of living in comfort and with the guarantee of food, my body couldn’t tolerate a full day without food and water now.

I rub the bruise on my chin and run my hand over the small scratches on the surface of my laptop. Some young shithead tried to steal my laptop last night, probably thinking I was an easy target. The one bruise on my body and the many on his, will hopefully serve as a reminder to him not fuck with strangers.

It’s inconceivable to me how someone can just try to ransack a person without knowing their weaknesses first. You have to study your victim, know their routine, and their strategies, so you can anticipate their moves. That way, you can either block them or land the first blow. How else do you stand a chance of survival?

But he was young and far too eager. I almost felt sorry for him when I finally allowed him to limp away, muttering curses and empty threats my way. But my pity would teach him nothing and he’d go on feeling entitled to things he hadn’t worked for. Besides, he scratched my laptop—my livelihood. For that alone, he deserved a thousand more beatings.

Immediately after opening up my laptop, I get to work on my current web design. Professional but quirky, with a touch of femininity. This client was specific on the layout of her template, which made it easier to work with. I like a client with a feasible and clear vision, but one that also grants me access to my own creativity. Usually the two of us working together can create something to be proud of. 

As the hours tick by, the scenery changes with all types of people coming and going. I ignore them all, my only goal is to finish the first draft of the design today so I can get my client’s approval and then fine tune what is left. Mentally satisfied, I send her the link and then do a quick search through stock photos to send to another client for a cover design.

After I back up my work online and put my laptop into my backpack, I fill my coffee cup with water from the bathroom sink and step out into the hot humid air and look at the darkening sky. It was going to be a wet night tonight. I better hurry up so I could claim a spot under the overpass I slept close to last night.

I look at the ground as I walk, rather than the people walking alongside me, out of fear they’d see right through me and see me for who I really am.

Where was the man who didn’t care about such nuisances? He was gone, weakened by the girl who took my heart without my approval. He’d come back though – stronger, harder, and a lot more bitter. And I’d be better for it.

I wish someone would have told me what happened when love was stripped away from you. How defenseless you’d become, how vulnerable you’d be.

It was stupid of me to care about what others may think of me when they see me in passing. So stupid. But each person I pass is like a crux to my heart, damning me to a lifetime without everything I didn’t even know I wanted. As I walk past my spot from the night before, I’m not in my right frame of mind. I’m only thinking of Hayley and the many scars forever etched on my heart.

The first blow to my stomach doesn’t even register—that’s how far gone I am. But I feel it the moment my nose makes contact with a fist and it breaks for the third time. It happens slowly at first and then all at once. There are five, maybe six of them. Not very big in stature, but big enough in number for me to know I can’t fight them. Not with their fists, feet, and bats making constant contact with my suddenly battered body.

So I do the only reasonable thing I can think of. I take off my backpack and protect it and its contents with my body. I take the beating without a word, while I protect my only means of survival. As long as I have my laptop, I’ll be okay. I’d come out of this beating just as I had done in the past with previous beatings. This was no different than the others.

I see the boy from last night crouch down in front of me and I sneer at him when he spits in my face.

“Ain’t so tough now, are ya?” he asks and I laugh.

“Says the little shit who needs a posse to beat up one man,” I counter.

I see his foot slowly rise off the ground and feel it when it makes impact on the side of my face. Within seconds, everything goes black.

***

Disoriented, I blink a few times before I push myself off the gravel and wipe the raindrops from my face.

What the fuck happened?

Like a derailed train, it all comes crashing back to me. Hayley, Hanna’s photo, my parents, my need to protect Hayley, and the little asshole I should have killed last night. Pushing myself off the gravel, I stand up quicker than my equilibrium approves of as I look around for my laptop.

Broken. In pieces.

I swear as I sit down next to the useless piece of equipment that had defined my life up until now. It had been my savior. It had given me something I was good at and could thrive on. Kicking it somehow seems wrong. Sacrilegious.

So, I sit down next to it, paying it homage, and letting the rain fall onto my already soaked body. Looking up, I don’t swear to the heavens or curse my fate. I just let the rain fall down my face, maybe removing the blood as it falls. Without much thought, I right my nose quickly and don’t bother wincing when the pain surfaces. Pain is good. Pain is a reminder that I get to live for one more breath, so I inhale and exhale slowly, pondering my next move.

I have very little money left and with my laptop in pieces, I’m limited on how I can communicate with my clients. Going to the library is an option, but I’d have to wait until I no longer looked like a Walker from The Walking Dead. At least I had the forethought of backing up my work on the internet.

On another swear, I get up, picking up the pieces of my laptop and shove it into my torn backpack. I limp towards downtown Miami in the dark of night, only coming across other lost souls like me who ignore me just as easily as I ignore them.

This time – this one time – I don’t bother looking at myself in the reflection of the storefront windows. I don’t need to look at my reflection when I know what I’ll see. Shame, disgust, and some more self-loathing. Instead, I lean on the door of a computer repair shop and pick the lock. I don’t bother congratulating myself when I hear it click with ease.

There’s no pride in stealing what isn’t yours. But sometimes it’s a necessity.

Leaving the lights off, I walk into the store and head towards the back, knowing I’ll find a couple used laptops that have already been repaired and are waiting for their rightful owners to pick them up. Their rightful owners not being me. But desperation calls and I willingly answer.

Uncaring of the brand or how it looks, I don’t inspect the laptops before I pick one up and shove it in my backpack. I get ready to leave, knowing if the laptop is password protected I can easily bypass it, when I hear a cough behind me and the familiar click of a gun.

Of course.

Unable to sleep, I watch the minutes tick by on the clock on my bedside table. It’s three in the morning, I shouldn’t be so restless. Everything had worked out well the night before. I’d had a fun girls night out. Jill had a date with Dr. Hottie. Blotchy had been released from the hospital without a death sentence. Dee had met quite a few readers while at the pool earlier—all of whom loved her books and she was able to do some promoting on the side.