Take Me Away (2 page)

"Focus, Parker." Coach snaps his finger, bringing my attention back to the present. My head's killing me and I swear I see two of him. Am I still drunk?

"Parker, boy, I swear to God if you don't pay attention I will make it so that you won't be able to drink anything."

"Coach," I start to say, propping myself up on my forearms and leaning forward on my thighs, "You don't get it. The party last night was crazy and my head is killing me. You got ibuprofen or something?"

"That's it! Get your ass up. Suicides, funny guy."

Oh, fuck me.

Dragging myself outside in the hot North Carolina sun, Coach blows his whistle and I run. The thing with Coach is, you can fuck around all you want, but that man will make you wish you were never born.

With the sun beating down on me and my dehydrated ass, I'm five seconds away from passing out. I know if I pass out Coach will chew my ass out and make me clean the locker room floors with a toothbrush. No, thank you. Instead, I endure the old man's sick pleasures and run until he blows his whistle again.

"Are you ready to listen now, smart ass?" I nod and he explains some of the plays and forces me to focus on what he's saying.

"Got it, Coach," I respond, taking a long drink of my water.

"Stop being a smart ass, Parker. You may be my best player, but I will bench your ass so fast you wouldn't know what to do."

I take his comments and smile knowing he wouldn't bench me unless he wants a losing season. "Coach, you love me, don't deny it."

"Shut up and pay attention."

Coach Young's been a second father to me since I started here. The man is respected and you don't argue with him unless you have a death wish. He's the kind of man who'll bust your balls, and then ask what he can do to make things better. I don't think he gives me special treatment, despite being the leading scorer and captain of the lacrosse team. No. He knows what it's like to experience loss before you can begin life.

We walk back to his office to continue our lovely meeting. He sits down at his desk, pushing aside the stacks of paper, "Talk to me, Parker. What's going on in that thick head of yours?"

Settling back in the chair in front of him, I slump back and shake my head. "Same old, same old Coach. Nothing new." He stares at me, trying to break me down. I don’t budge.

“Well if you need anything you know where I am. Don’t feel like you have to keep everything bottled inside you, son. It’s okay to talk about Emily and how you feel.”

I nod my head, “I know, Coach.”

"Good. Now get your ass to the weight room," Coach says to me. "I need you in shape this season, Parker."

"You got it, Coach." Gathering my things I sling my bag over the shoulder and shake his hand, "See you later." He nods, watching me walk out of his office.

Checking the time, I head to the campus café to grab a bottle of water before heading to the gym. I need to sweat out this hangover and fast.

The crowd in the café is rowdy; everyone’s talking and welcoming back each other. I see a few of the guys on the team, give them a nod and get what I need. Paying for my food and drink I head back out and to the gym. It’s nice being back in school.

"Parker! Yo!" I turn around and see Gavin, and his girlfriend, Katy, walk to me. "Where you heading?"

"Gym."

Katy loops her arm through mine, giving me the cutest smile. It's the smile of death. She may be cute, but she’s also feisty as hell. "Treston, love, we need to talk."

"Why's that Katy, babe?"

"So I heard you and Peony got a little close after we left. What the hell is wrong with you?"

I laugh, shaking my head, "What my cock and I do is none of your business. I'm single, so it's okay."

"I sincerely hope your dick falls off. How many girls have seen your dick?" I look away to Gavin and see him shaking his head. Now her question has me wondering. One night I messed around with two girls and I've been back in school for three weeks so, well, I was never that great in math. "Oh my god, you're actually counting!" She slaps my arm a few times.

"I'm being polite and answering your question. You are being extremely rude in front of your boyfriend. You know this rough foreplay is turning me on?" I wink at her, feeling a punch to my other arm.

"Rough and foreplay are to never leave your mouth when you talk to my girlfriend," Gavin growls.

"Whatever, man. You know I'd never touch your girl. Isn't that right, babe?" Katy rolls her eyes at me and we continue walking toward the gym.

"Oh! You get to meet Zara tonight. Remember, the new girl on the team?”

"Oh yeah? That’s cool.”

"Well, she's going to be the talk of the campus soon. I don't get how you never heard of her. She's huge in the sports world. Full scholarship and everything. Even
Nike
is talking to her about being a model. She's that good."

"I'm fucking good," I add, "Is she coming to the party tonight?" She nods, "Then I'll meet her there."

"Do you want to come with us? We’re meeting her for lunch.”

"I have to go workout, remember? I’m on my way to the gym," I answer, seeing her eyes narrow at me. "What?"

"Just want you to be happy. You've been messing around with all these girls, who obviously don't mean anything to you. I don't know you're all over the place. Honestly, we're worried. I know that Emily's death is still on your mind. Messing around with those skanks isn’t going to make the pain go away.” I wince at her words. I’m not fucking dumb. I know these skanks aren’t going to take away my pain. Nothing will. I’ve tried almost everything and I still wake up every morning with a hole in my heart. I’m broken and no one can put me back together. Katy’s hand touches my arm, bringing me back to the now. “We're here if you need anything, Treston. Please don't forget that."

My vision gets blurry and I have to shake off these emotions and fast before I break down like a damn pussy. "I love you both and I'm thankful for you two, but I am okay. Got it? No, I don't want to talk about it and yes, I think you two need a life. I. Am. Fine." Without waiting for their responses, I turn and head to the gym.

All I fucking need to do is hit something. Walking into the gym, I start with cardio, pushing myself with high intensity, ignoring the burn in my legs. My pent up frustrations and energy are released in the gym and on the field when I’m pushing and running with the ball, ready to throw it for a goal. I’m not a cocky guy, but on the field I know I’m the best.

After working out for a few hours, killing and pushing my body to the depths of hell, I head back to my car and drive. I'm not ready to go back home and I'm not sure where I'm going. Pulling down my visor, I look at myself in the small mirror. My face is tense and my eyes are dark. The expression I carry, the
don't fuck with me,
expression keeps people at a distance. It's the only mask I know because if I show people who I really am I'll fall apart. The last thing I need is to have more people feel bad for me.

I've been on edge since being back to school. Back when life was simpler, I had dreams and wanted to accomplish so much. Now, I'm lucky if I pass a test in class. The only normal constant is lacrosse. As long as I keep my GPA up I’ll be fine. Barely passing is better than failing. The game's my life, everything I know and everything I breathe.

School and lacrosse.

The first two promises.

Pulling into the parking lot of a bar, I go inside and take a seat, asking for a beer.

“Here you go, sunshine,” the bartender winks at me and I can’t help but notice her tight little body. Fuck.

“Thanks.” I watch her staring at me, licking her lips, as she comes back over.

I love the attention she’s giving me, the way her eyes are undressing me, and the thoughts going through her head. In the corner of my eye, I see a dark hallway and I think about taking her there. I think about it for a minute and the desire for a quick blow quickly goes away. I’m not sure what the hell is wrong with me. I’ve been agitated since my conversation with Gavin and Katy. I love those two and they’re my best friends, but sometimes meddling in my life, making sure I’m okay and pushing me to be the guy I used to be, is fucking annoying. I’m fine and will always be fine. That's something people don't seem to understand. Dwelling on something I can't change isn't going to make me feel better. I grieved and now I want to be alone. I'll still fuck around and force myself to be alone.

“You know I get off in a few minutes and my house is just down the road,” she tilts her head to the door. I finish my beer and leave some cash on the counter.

“Have a good day.”

She gives me the look of death and rolls her eyes. Not caring about her, I walk out of the bar and into my car. Within minutes I’m back at the house, in my room, away from the chaos of downstairs.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I take it out to see who’s texting me.

Beth:
I need to see you. Please. Just for a few hours.

Getting up from my bed, I throw on a new pair of jeans and a black tee. It’s almost five p.m., and by the time I get there and back I should have enough time to get ready and host this lovely party.

CHAPTER 2

ZARA

This has been my motto my entire life. It’s funny how three little words mean so much.

These words have been my focus when I feel myself about to fall apart. So many times, I feel that I’m pushed in a corner with nowhere to go. I know I’m being a little overly dramatic and I should be grateful for everything in my life, which I am. Sometimes I want to let go and have fun. Since I began playing lacrosse, I’ve been scouted and every day pushed to be the best. I live and breathe lacrosse. It's the only game I know and the only sport I've ever played. I guess I also play for my dad. He was a lacrosse star at Duke too, back in the day. Whenever I'm on the field I feel him next to me, pushing me and cheering for me. Losing him was so hard and I miss him every day.

The expectations for myself are so high. My mom and stepdad want me to do well in school and play lacrosse but also think about choosing a career. I know lacrosse players don't make a lot, but I love the game. When I'm on the field, no one can touch me. I'm unstoppable.

The expectations I have for myself are ridiculously insane. I have a routine and for years, it's worked for me. I woke up, went to school to get straight A’s and practiced. I went to the gym to work out and ran six miles every day. I did my homework and spent time with my boyfriend over the weekends. I didn’t get a chance to go to parties or be the normal high school girl. I’ve never been drunk or too far from my parents’ eyes. When I started dating at fifteen, the only reason why they were okay was that they knew him and his family. Jackson was safe and in so many ways, I felt obligated to be with him just to feel somewhat normal.

My life’s been safe and predictable. I love who I am and what I’ve accomplished. My decision to come to Duke and play lacrosse is one of the best decisions I’ve made for myself. It was between two schools. I couldn't ask for help because my parents would have told me to pick Boston. I didn't want Boston. I have no idea why I applied there. My heart's been with Duke since I can remember. It was a no brainer, but I did it and didn't tell anyone I got accepted to Boston.

My parents aren’t happy that I’m here. I don’t blame them for being the way they are. As much as I love them, the distance between us is needed. They are fearful of me being two hours away from them and home. I’m not under their protection and it scares them to see me alone. Nevertheless, I’m not alone. I have my two best friends, Katy and Jamie, plus my team.

It takes me a minute to register where we are. The dimly lit and quiet streets are lined with different shops. Looking out the window at my surroundings, I see the sign of the place I want to go, but am not completely sure if I should. I’m not a risk taker and usually stick to the rules. I’ve never done anything like this before and I’m not sure where this bravery is coming from. Internally I groan. I hate needles and pain, yet I’m thinking about getting a tattoo on the most sensitive spot of my body. What the hell is wrong with me?

My best friend looks at me, turns off her car and encourages me to get out.

Katy Crawford’s a senior and captain of the lacrosse team. She’s been my best friend for the past two years. With her short, brown hair that she’s had cut into a bob and bright green eyes, she’s beautiful, but also one of the strongest girls I know.

“Come on Zara,” Katy says, “This is what you wanted.”

“I know,” I take in a deep breath and let out a sigh. “Okay, let’s go.”

We walk into the parlor and wait to be helped. It’s actually pretty nice and clean inside. In my head, I had a whole other vision in mind. I associated tattoo places with being shady looking and dirty. I’m so wrong and feel like an idiot for thinking it.

There are a few seats along one wall with different designs and drawings up on the walls. Soft music plays, distracting me from my fears. The question of why I’m getting this tattoo keeps eating away at me.

My hand brushes my side, where I want the quote. I’m not the kind of girl who walks into a tattoo shop and asks for a tattoo. I don't live on the dangerous side and I'm not reckless. No. I’m the simple, talented and quietly shy Zara – star lacrosse player. I’m eighteen years old and on my own for the first time. I've been under the watchful, but loving, eyes of my parents since the day I was born. They've given me everything I could possibly want. I wonder what they'd say if they saw me here now. Oh shit. Okay maybe I shouldn't do this.

"Change into your big girl panties, Borzilleri. This is what
you
want."

Standing in the middle of the tattoo parlor, I push down my fears and anxiety and think about what I want. It makes me feel better knowing I'm about to jump out of my comfort zone and take a risk.

It’s Friday night. The night of the first official party before school starts. I guess last night was the pre-party to tonight’s party. I’m not exactly sure why they needed two parties, but I guess this one is the main one. Everyone's going to be at the guys’ lacrosse house, with alcohol, dancing and hook ups.
Reckless, but alluring.

Last night’s party was wild and I had to leave early even though I didn’t want to and felt bad making my friends come with me. Honestly, I wasn’t feeling too great. I’m not sick or anything. Just stressing over the tattoo and what I’m going to do next. By the end of tonight, my whole life is going to change.

I’ve been in Durham since the end of June. Being on the lacrosse team meant I had to be on campus, moved into the lacrosse house, and ready to puke. Literally. Practice started and it’s been brutal. I’ve been playing since I was five. I played for school and was on a travel team. Nothing prepared me for college level practices.

Nothing.

It doesn’t stop me. Being one of four freshmen on the team meant I have to constantly prove myself. My game has to be on point and I can't mess up. I have a lot to prove and my love for the game is my life. All day I breathe lacrosse. The game is what matters.

“Ready?” Katy asks, bringing me back to reality.

“Yeah,” I nod, hoping for this to be painless. Which I know is wishful thinking.

An artist comes from behind the curtains and smiles, “Ladies. How can I help you?”

“Hey. I’m Zara. First time getting ink,” I explain. “I was wondering if you can tat this quote on my side.” Handing him the crumpled paper I've been playing with since the idea came to my head, I lift my tank top and point to where I want it. The artist comes closer, lifts my shirt higher, and looks at my skin. He touches my side, causing me to shiver, and nods his head.

“Let’s do this.”

I look up at his dark eyes and nod. He helps me get situated and Katy’s on the other side of me on her phone.

“Gavin can’t wait to see your new ink. Does Jackson know?” I wince when she says his name.

For the past three years, I’ve been with Jackson DeLacey. We grew up together since we were kids and became best friends. He’s three years older and I always looked at him as an older brother. Lines were crossed one night when I was fifteen and I realized he wasn’t my brother, but the boy I was in love with. Everyone knew we'd end up together. Our mom's would get together for lunch and talk about how cute we would be together and how fun it would be to become in-laws. At the time I thought the same. It made sense to be with the boy who stayed by my side through thick and thin. The first boy I kissed and let go to third base. He taught me about love, life and lacrosse. We'd practice together after school and when he went to Boston we'd talk about different plays and moves. The longer he was gone for, the more I felt like we were becoming friends.

But I kept pushing that out of my mind.

When you imagine the perfect boyfriend you would think of Jackson. Standing at a towering 6'2, with amazingly beautiful green eyes, his chiseled jaw with his perfect smile can make anyone stop dead in their tracks. His shaggy brown hair is fun to play with and he gives the best kisses.

So what's the problem?

Our relationship was too perfect. Our families got along and we never fought. He’d come visit me every other weekend from Boston and we laid under our favorite tree in his backyard. It was a fairy tale. When he found out I was going to Duke, he put in his transfer papers to Duke so we could be together. That scared me. He changed his entire life for me and I’ve been debating our relationship since after the New Year.

Now he’s here and I’m about to change his life…again. I remind myself that this is what I need to do.

“I’m Matt, by the way,” he introduces himself while rubbing my skin with alcohol, cleaning the spot where I want the tat. Matt gets up from his chair to wash his hands. When he comes back, he has on a pair of rubber gloves and prepares the needle. “This is gonna be painless. I’ll be quick,” he winks.

I think about Jackson and what I want to say to him. Forcing myself to recite the words is next to impossible when it feels like a million needles are jabbing me. I grab Katy’s hand and squeeze.

“Bitch!” She yelps, “Does it hurt that bad?”

“What the fuck do you think?!”

Matt laughs under his breath and I have the insane desire to take the needle and jab him in the eye. “All done.” I look over and he’s cleaning up his station. I slowly get up from the chair and walk to the mirror.

“Damn, that looks really good,” Katy gushes, taking pics.

“Thank you so much, Matt.” I tell him. He pats my shoulder and gives me care instructions for the tattoo and tells me to let him know if there’s anything else I need .

Katy and I walk outside and to her car. “You okay?” I nod my head.

"Are you ready to do this?" Katy asks me.

I haven't been ready since January and it's now August. Am I being a bitch? Am I being selfish? I can't be. If I don't care about him and love him like I should then I need to let him go so he can be with someone who deserves him...right?

"Well, I'm about to rip his heart out and stomp on it. So no I am not ready. Can I please do this drunk?" I groan, covering my eyes with my hands.

"Nope. Do it and accept the consequences. You know he's going to be upset so at least you can prepare for that."

"I guess."

When we get to the house, I drop my things off in my room and head outside. The walk to the fields isn't long. It's nice to walk outside and clear my head the best I can. Stepping onto the lacrosse field, I look around, breathing in the hot air around me. I should be with Katy and Jamie getting ready for the party tonight. I should be doing
something
rather than standing in the middle of the field, breathing in the early evening air, thinking about my decisions. In life we’re faced with doing what’s right even though it’s one of the hardest things to do.

I kick the dew from the grass and feel the humidity sticking to my skin. Things haven’t been right for a few months. When your head and your heart are saying the same things, you know it’s the right thing to do.

I lift my face to the setting sun and press my lips together, imagining a time when life was simple. Sometimes I wish it still could be.

Someone touches my arm, but I don’t turn around.

“Zara,” he says, turning me around to face him. I can’t look into his eyes because I’ll fall apart. Drying my eyes, I lean my forehead against his shoulder, “Zara,” he says again. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk," I tell him. His body freezes and he's looking at me. Shit don't look at me. I try to look away, but his finger moves my face back to his.