Authors: Sharisse Coulter
“Okay. I’m
sorry to have disturbed you,” Alex said, forgetting for the moment how he got
there.
“Well! Now
that’s settled. I’m trying to figure out how to play ‘Paper Money’ off your
second album and I can’t quite get the bridge. Would you mind?” Jackson said,
proffering his treasured guitar up from behind the desk. Alex’s concerns and
confusion drifted away as he, in the most improbable of circumstances, taught
the country’s biggest porn mogul how to play one of his least known songs.
Calling this “surreal” didn’t begin to do it justice.
Chapter
51
“Will you be
my date for Grandpa’s induction ceremony?” Felicity asked Trey over Chinese the
next night. They had fallen into an easy weekend pattern of eating, making out,
eating, and walking around Silver Lake holding hands. She had never been so
happy.
“Hmm …
Let
me think about it,” he teased.
She glared at him, taking a big bite.
“Okay,” he
said. They both smiled.
“Do you want
to come with me to pick out my dress?”
“I love you,
but no. I was
gonna
play basketball.”
“You love
me?” She asked in a light tone, in case he didn’t mean it.
“I love
you,” he said again, his eyes serious.
“I love you
too.” She smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden.
They
finished their food in giddy silence. Trey stood, taking her by the hand. She
wrapped her arms around his neck, running her hands through his golden hair. He
made an “
mmmm
” noise in his throat and leaned in,
pressing his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes. They made their way
down the narrow hall to his bedroom.
He slept on
a twin bed that still had a Jimmy Neutron sticker on the headboard. Signed concert
posters mostly covered the kiddy train wallpaper below. Clothes were strewn
around the room, invading the rare space between cables plugged into amps and
guitars, leaning against opposite walls. The bed was freshly made.
As they made
their way over, he peppered her neck and face in soft kisses. She closed her
eyes, reveling in his touch. He took his time, pulling his shirt up over his
head before running his hands up her back, relieving her of her own shirt, and
struggling to unhook her bra. Her breathing came in quick bursts of
anticipation. She tried to undo his jeans but he stopped her, lying her down on
the bed.
“Are you
sure?” he asked. She nodded, pulling him down to her, feeling his weight on top
of her.
After, they
lay together happily squished on his little twin bed, still breathing hard.
“Are you
okay?” he asked.
“Never
better. You?”
“
Mmmmm
.”
“I love
you,” she said, snuggling into the nook of his collarbone.
“I love you
too,” he kissed the top of her head.
The next day
after school, she stood outside the building with Trey, huddled under the
awning. It was
mizzling
out (somewhere between a mist
and a drizzle) as she waited for her ride, not minding the excuse to snuggle up
to him. Her grandmother pulled up to the curb and Felicity gave Trey a quick
kiss goodbye, missing him already. It was the first afternoon they’d spent apart
since they started dating.
An hour later she stood in front of a wall of
dresses at some designer’s studio her mom sent her to. Her usual aversion to
shopping dissolved in her euphoria. Nothing could bring her down now. She
didn’t even mind that her grandmother bailed to run a few errands.
Karyn
C. showed her a couple dresses her mom picked out and
asked if she wanted to try them on. The first was a charcoal strapless A-line
dress with frayed
ruching
through the midsection. It
was pretty, but the color washed her out. Next she tried a one-shouldered gown,
knee length in the front, longer in the back, the same color as Trey’s eyes. It
had the same charcoal fabric as the first dress around the middle, but was far
enough from her face to add interest, allowing the turquoise color to make her
blue eyes pop.
Flowy
and feminine.
And unexpected.
She felt beautiful—it was perfect.
Out on the cobbled walkway, lost in the clouds,
she answered her phone. Her grandmother’s voice sounded strange—distant
and formal. “Felicity, I need to tell you something.”
The rest of the conversation was a blur. At some
point, maybe minutes later, maybe hours or even days, she was pulled to her
feet by her grandmother and buckled into the back seat of a car, holding her
hand as they zipped through the city. Her mind was numb. Time and place drifted
away and the world passed her by in a series of undefined colors and shapes.
At the
hospital, she saw Trey’s mom. She was crying. Anya hugged her and they spoke
for a minute. Felicity took it in without comprehension. She stood stock still
in the middle of the waiting room, until the two women walked toward her.
Inexplicably, she felt an overwhelming urge to back away from them. They sat
her down on one of the chairs, flanking her on either side. Whatever they were
saying was clearly difficult for them but Felicity didn’t understand. They
seemed to need her to agree to something. She just wanted them to stop talking.
She nodded.
Before she
knew it, a doctor swept her off down the hall to a room. The door outside read
“ICU.” Felicity couldn’t remember what the letters stood for. But then she saw
him. Trey.
His leg was bent at an
unnatural angle, and his head was covered in bandages, completely obscuring the
top half of his face. The lower half was covered in bandages too so that the
only visible skin was the unshaven stubble beneath his nose. She barely noticed
the machines hooked to him, beeping and wheezing.
“I’m sorry
about your friend, and I know this is difficult for you, but you were the last
person to see Trey alive and we need you to identify that this is him. Is this
what he was wearing?”
What?
She thought, finally comprehending
what he asked her to do.
He can’t be
dead. I just saw him. I can see his chest moving. He loves me.
“In order
for him to donate his organs, we must be able to identify him. Your friend is
brain dead, these machines are only keeping his organs viable.”
“Yes.” She
nodded. Her voice came from outside her body, but as she said it, she returned.
The full force of reality thrust itself at her. She felt … like she was going
to throw up.
Uh-oh
. Her insides twisted and clenched as tears ejected themselves
from her eyes.
Two nurses
escorted her from the room as she sobbed and wretched. They took her to an open
room, laying her down on a bed. One of them handed her a box of Kleenex and the
other left the room. Her grandmother came in a moment later. Felicity gripped
her grandmother’s shoulders, sobbing and convulsing.
Chapter
52
“Where are
you?” Jenna asked.
“Vegas,
getting ready for the show tonight.”
“You need to
come home.”
“Are you
home?”
“Trey died.
In a motorcycle accident.
You need to come home,” she
repeated.
“
Wha
- Oh no. Felicity. That’s … ” he trailed off. “I’ll be
there soon.”
Two hours
after receiving the phone call from her mom, Jenna arrived at Bob Hope Airport
where a car awaited. The drive to Malibu took longer than the flight, with
traffic. She shouted at the driver to go faster.
“It’s
stopped traffic, ma’am. The Lakers are playing. Nothing I can do.”
She couldn’t
stop fidgeting, or checking her phone. She would never be able to forgive
herself not being there when Felicity needed her most. What kind of a mother
goes off to “find herself,” leaving her poor baby alone? Okay, maybe not alone,
but it should have been
her
at the
hospital and
her
arms of comfort and
her
voice on the phone. She had failed
when it mattered most.
Are we there yet?
After what
felt an age later, they wound their way up the Pacific Coast Highway and down
the gravel drive to her parents’ house. She flung open her door, making her way
into the house before the car came to a stop.
Anya was waiting
in the entryway and narrowly avoided being bowled over by Jenna’s frantic
entrance. Jenna looked around for Felicity, but Anya put a finger to her mouth,
indicating quiet, and pointed upstairs to Felicity’s bedroom. They padded out
to the deck.
“How is
she?” Jenna asked, tears pricking her eyes.
“She’s okay,
I think. It’s going to be hard, but she’ll be alright.”
“I can’t
believe this. She’s too young to deal with something like this,” Jenna gripped
her face in her hands.
“There’s
something you need to know,” Anya said, looking over her shoulder, lowering her
voice.
“What?”
Worry etched across Jenna’s soft features.
“She loved
him.”
“I know.
They were best friends!” Jenna said, offended her own mother thought she was that
out of touch.
“No. They
were dating. She was
in
love with
him.”
Jenna’s mind
reeled. If that was true, why hadn’t Felicity told
her
? What else hadn’t she told her? A million questions flooded her
brain. Then suddenly, they were quiet. All that mattered was Felicity.
Her
needs.
Her
space.
Her
time.
“What can I
do to help her?” Jenna asked.
“Love her.
Be gentle. Let her grieve in her own way,” Anya said, placing a hand on Jenna’s
shoulder. Jenna nodded, stifling a sob. She hugged her
mom
as she hadn’t done since childhood.
Opening Felicity’s door, she saw the familiar
photos on the wall, the vanity from her own childhood and her daughter lying on
top of the covers, huddled in the fetal position, staring at the wall. She
stepped over the mounds of dirty clothes and books, moving some aside, making
room to kneel in front of Felicity’s vacant gaze.
“Hey,” she
said, rubbing a hand along Felicity’s back. Felicity didn’t say anything and
Jenna contemplated leaving her alone.
Let
her come out when she’s ready
. She pulled her hand back and Felicity
grabbed it. Jenna crawled onto the bed and held her.
***
“Family
emergency. I’m leaving. Now.” Alex said to Simon, bags packed, ready to go.
“What’d
someone die?” Simon asked, not looking up from his text.
“Yes.”
“What?”
Simon looked up, letting his phone beep at his side.
“Trey died,”
Alex said.
“Shit, man.
Yeah, you go. I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks,”
Alex said, grateful to go without a fight.
He was
surprised to get a phone call from Ira
Stearn
on his
way back to his hotel room. He ignored it. It rang again. Again, he ignored it.
On the third try, he relented.
“What!” Alex
demanded.
“I am
calling on behalf of my client to remind you of your contractual obligations.”
Is he
serious?
“Look, it’s
a family emergency. Talk to Simon.”
“Which
family member died?” Ira asked as though he were asking what kind of sandwich
Alex preferred.
“Trey.”
Alex responded, teeth clenched.
“And what is
his relation to you?”
“What! Are
you serious with this? He’s my daughter’s best friend. What do you care?”
“It is
clearly stated in your contract that a ‘family emergency’ is defined as a death
and/or serious illness of an immediate family member. Therefore, if you do not
fulfill your contract, whereby you perform this evening’s concert, and have not
given sufficient notice to reschedule said date, you will personally reimburse
all costs incurred by said absence.”
Alex’s mouth
hung open. After all this time playing by their rules—thinking he could
get more bees with honey, or whatever that stupid saying was—they had to
play it this way.
“Talk to my
lawyer,” he seethed, chucking the phone on the bed. It bounced off and fell to
the floor with a violent
thunk
. Anger coursed through
his veins as he flung clothes haphazardly into his suitcase.
“Hello?”
Airika’s
voice interrupted his tirade. Alex looked up from
the suitcase, too angry to speak. “Going somewhere?” She asked.
“Home.” He
said, glaring at the mangled pile of clothes in front of him.
“Everything
okay?”
“No,” he
said. “I
gotta
go. My flight leaves in less than an
hour. You want something?”
“I, uh … you
know, never mind. It can wait,” she said.