NEVER GOODBYE (An Albany Boys Novel) (6 page)

              “Why then?”

              “I don’t date. I can tell already you’ll be my best friend, but I can’t go out with you. We can’t have any other kind of relationship no matter our brash feelings.”

              His frown deepens and I reach up and stroke the line between his eyes with my thumb making him closes them. “You don’t or you can’t?” he asks, his melancholy breaking my heart.

This is worse than I thought it would be and much sooner. I like this boy. I like him a lot and can tell he’s a little broken inside from something more than what his father is. I’m sure whatever it is, it will be painful to know and hurt him more to tell, but it’s like the day I met April. I know Vaun where it counts. I believe in him.

              “Both,” I say.

              “Is it your dad? I can meet him if that helps. It scares the shit out of me like you wouldn’t believe, but I’ll do it.”

              I titter, “It’s not my dad. It’s a pass kind of thing.”

              Vaun takes a long breath and chews his inner cheek. “Firstly, that’s your first pass used up and, secondly… Is a pass forever?”

              “No.”

              “Is saying no to an
us
a forever deal?”

              I think this over for a second and know I could be totally honest with my answer. “No,” I say, because if I survive this disease, the treatment, and he still wants to be with me then I was going to jump at it. If I die … he’ll forgive me since I did him one astronomical favor. Because who the hell in their right mind would want the tragedy of dating a dying girl?

3

Balance of friendship

Harper

‘Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies.’

Aristotle

              He beams and kisses my forehead and I can’t describe how good it makes me feel. “If ‘friends’ is what you want, then friends is what I’ll give.”

              “No pressure, no slick lines to try to get me in your bed?” I almost want him to say no, but I know if I’m to have anything with him that will last he needs to agree.

              “No pressure, I promise. As for slick lines to get you in my bed, baby I don’t need slick lines.” He winks and I laugh because this is exactly what I need.

“What’s
your
stupidest lie?” he asks as he flops back on the ground and pulls me to him so I can lay my head on his shoulder. I try to ignore the urge to touch his stomach and chest. Damn best friend etiquette.

              I blush and grin at the memory before I allow the words to form. “No, I did not stuff my bra with tissues.” He laughs so hard I’m almost knocked off his shoulder and then he grabs for the top of my dress. I don’t think he gets much of a look before my hand hugs the material to my chest and my scream echoes across the air.

“No tissues there.”

              I can feel the heat in my face like a fire and bury it in his shoulder. Whatever happened to best friend etiquette? Oh that’s right; it was me trying to make peace with that. Vaun on the other hand seems to be waging war against any kind of protocol. I’m sure glad I’m wearing a bikini underneath and relish in the easy going turn our relationship has taken despite the innuendo.

              He tucks his hand under my chin and lifts my face so I have no choice but look at him. “You can’t be shy with your best friend. A best friend shares all.”

              “Do you share
all
with Carter?”

              “Whoa there, no need to be like that.”

              I laugh because he makes it easy. “At the risk of getting all gloomy and serious, what’s your most selfish lie?”

              He nods and pulls me in tight. There’s a long pause and for a moment I think he isn’t going to answer but then he does. “Of course we have a connection.” He sounds sad at his own equivalent speech of ‘I’ll respect you in the morning’ and selfishly I wish I didn’t know. “I was going to pass on that one,” he says.

              “At some level, I’m glad you didn’t.”

              “But at another you wish I did, huh?”

              “Yeah, but that’s not what best friends do.”

              “Yeah,” he breathes. I realize he’s going to ask me the very same question and I don’t want him to feel the disappointment I felt for his. We asked for honesty, we want a relationship even if it has some major limitations and now is where it gets a bit gritty.

I decide to tell him my answer before he even asks because I know he’s struggling with whether he should or not. “She can hear you. Mom’s the same person she was before, only a lot quieter.”

              Again, Vaun braces himself on his elbows and looks down into my eyes. The sun has almost disappeared over the horizon and the orange and purple hue halos his body. He’s so angelic and the urge to kiss him tugs at me.

              “Harper?”

              I know what he wants to know. We speak about my mom like she’s dead when, in fact, she isn’t. She might as well be, though. Closing my eyes, I can picture her in the window of the home Dad works to keep her in. I wonder what, if anything, she can see through her ghostly eyes. I know that’s the most bitchy thing to think or say, but it kills me to see her like that; a shell of the vibrant musician, wife and mother I knew growing up. She would hate herself if she was aware.

              “I don’t know why I told Benny that. Maybe to a point I wished it to be true …” I take a steadying breath before continuing. “About three years ago, my mom and Dad got into a car accident on their way home from their anniversary dinner. Mom suffered extensive brain damage and she now lives in a home where she can be looked after. We used to visit her all the time, now I see her once every couple of weeks. Dad goes to see her every chance he gets. It’s like he thinks she’ll snap out of it. Benny, which is who I told my lie to, doesn’t really remember what she was like before. He was only seven.”

              “Jesus. I’m so sorry.” He strokes my hair and my cheek and suddenly I feel a small amount of the burden lift from my shoulders. I’ve never told anyone before. “Come here.”

              He falls onto his back, pats his chest where I lie my head and he strokes my hair in silence. I don’t know how long we lay here without a word uttered and I don’t think either one of us cares. It’s natural and comforting. And nothing I pictured best friends would be doing.

Vaun

              I don’t want to be her best friend. I want it all and I want to tell the whole world. But that’s the bastard in me. My father’s the same and I hate him for it, which goes to say — she deserves a better guy who isn’t weighed down by a dark history.

Her hair feels so incredibly soft under my fingers, like a petal. So smooth and soft and I’d stroke it till death if she’d let me. I don’t think she would, though, but I can’t help smiling at the possibility and I’m damn glad she can’t see me and the stupid goofy grin.

              “Why does April not like you?” she asks me and I feel my goddamn heart race to her sweet song voice. It’s like music from heaven and that just sounds corny. But she’s my freedom from this life, my song bird, and I’ll fight anyone who wants to take her from me; including April.

              “She thinks I’ll be a bad influence on you, I guess,” I say and she chortles. I feel it against my ribs.

              “Are you?”

              “Pass.” This time she laughs and tries to rise to see my face, but I don’t want her to because I know she thinks I’m joking, though it’s true. April’s probably right and I should stay clear of someone so beautiful and innocent as Harper and yet I can’t. Not even if I want to. So I hold her to me and she laughs harder and I kiss her head, smelling her honey and flower shampoo.

              “That’s
your
first pass gone and I think she’s wrong,” she says smoothly and I almost believe her words, though I know better.

              “I have a history and not all of it’s shiny.” Ain’t that the truth.

              “Shiny has nothing on truth. I bet your dad comes across all shiny to people until he lets loose.”

              Frack I wanted to kill my dad. I feel the rage building and I’m trying hard to keep in control when her fingers start to stroke my stomach and my body freezes, scared she’ll stop. I guess it was the wrong thing because she stops anyway and I want to tell her not to, but I’m gutless. I get that from my asshole father, too.

              “Will you do me a favor, Harper?”

              “Mmm, I think so.”

              “When April tells you to stay away from me, will you remember this night, remember what it feels to be in my arms and how the stars above us right now shine especially brighter than any night I can ever remember. Will you remember that?”

              She’s quiet and I want to know what she’s thinking, but I dare not ask in case I don’t like what I’m going to hear. Jesus, I probably won’t like it either way.

              “The only way you’ll be saying goodbye to me is through death and even then I don’t want to. I
will
remember today, tonight and tomorrow in your arms, under these exceptionally bright stars which I believe spark just for us. I will remember the warmth of your arms around me and your smell, the feel of your cotton tee against my cheek. I’ll even remember how we met, you standing with the bikini club, only because you look so fine without a shirt on.” We both snicker and my heart aches at her words.

Just when I think I’m going to break all the rules of friendship, she continues and I want to hear every word.

“I will remember thinking how much I wanted to know why you have a Bonsai tree tattoo that wraps from your ribs and across your back, but was too chicken to ask because then you would know I was looking at you. Though, most of all, Vaun …”

I think my heart stops when she says my name like that.

“Most of all, I’ll remember wanting nothing more than to have kissed you when I had the chance before we became best friends. That’s my Oath to you.”

              In one swift, deliberate movement I have her under me, my hands braced on either side of her head; they look big compared to her petite face. Her long hair is spread across the red blanket and I know I’ll keep that damn thing forever. I want to tell her about my tattoo, about my mother, but not now. I study her, her wide, bright, blue eyes. They’re the most phenomenal in the world; like the color of the Blue Jays in my mother’s nesting box. I gaze at her for the longest time, our breaths mingling, and that in itself has me thinking how much more I want her. Not just as friends, screw friendship. I want her to be mine, to hold her, to kiss her, to keep safe. I don’t even realize I’m getting closer to her until she licks her lips, almost touching mine and I can see she can’t deny what she’s feeling any more than I can. As soon as her eyes flutter closed I draw my lips to hers and taste the deliciousness of my blue bird.

              My hand wraps around her jaw, sliding into her hair while the other pulses as it carries my weight. A shudder comes from my chest when she moans just a little into my mouth and she has every part of me on full alert.
Every Part
. I don’t want to her to think that’s all I want from her, of course I want her, I want her bad. But that’s not what this is about and I’m scared she’s going to come to her senses and reject me. Instead her nails trail up the inside of my shirt and over my back, making me crazy. Her lips are so soft as I lick the smooth inside of her top lip before sucking on it. Her hands roam down the back of my ribs to my waist and I feel myself losing it as her fingers hook the inside of the band of my pants.

              This is it, the moment that could change everything we have promised one another. Jesus, maybe we’d gone past that point already. I find my hand is grazing her ribs and I want to feel the fullness of her breast in my hand so bad as it teases me, heaving with her every breath when an explosion goes off. And no, I don’t mean in my pants. I mean like in the sky above us. My heart’s pounding so hard, but it’s in time with hers. It’s not just from our kiss ― our single, beautiful kiss. Some douchebag has scored some firecrackers and couldn’t have picked a worse time to set them off.

              She sits and looks up into the sky. I flop back on the blanket and try to calm my breathing and my rabid body when she speaks.

“When people say that making love is like seeing fireworks, I kinda thought they were exaggerating. And we only kissed.” She’s joking and I actually wish she wasn’t because I’m scared and I want to go back to kissing her, to feeling her under me again. Instead of that, I’m staring at her back as she watches the blasts of red copper and bright, white magnesium. “It’s never going to be
only
between us,” I say. “I know this with every fiber of my being even though we only just met.” I wasn’t mad or disappointed; I was just stating a fact.

              She looks over her shoulder at me and smiles before relaxing beside me again, her fingers tracing a line up and down my stomach and I will myself to stay in control. “I know that.”

              “Then what’s the ‘B.S’ about best friends?” Nearly every muscle in my body is rigid, waiting for her answer.

              “It is and it’s not.”

              I sigh and rein my irritation in. “
That
is ‘B.S’ and you know it. What we have is real.” I sit up, bracing my arms on my knees and feel her follow, but I don’t want to look at my blue bird when she’s Lying to me; to us. “I want you to admit what we have, what we could have.”

              She touches my arm, which is pulsing with anger. “I know what we have is something huge and true and I want to let it grow, to flourish with the freedom it deserves, but I don’t want to ruin what we have with promises I can’t make and keep. We’ve known each other for a couple of hours and to admit anything more … to give it a name, is too scary and too ...”