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Authors: Gloria Foxx

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BOOK: Chasing Peace
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What the hell is wrong with me I wonder to myself, hoping no
one notices.

“Number one forty-seven, one forty-seven…”

“That’s us,” said Boston. “Sit Sterling, I’ll be right back.”

I try to pull myself together with determination and self-preservation
as he goes to pick up our coffee, but I don’t feel terribly successful.

Annie pulls me into the chair next to hers, much like she
did when we first met on the bus tour. “You look like you might faint.”

The room got steadily warmer the longer I sat; moments
stretched into an eternity, threatening to overtake me. My hand slid along my
forearm, massaging my wrist.

Hope is a fickle companion, propping us up, encouraging us, and
pushing us forward until reality intrudes. Then hope deserts, leaving us in the
dust like a spooked horse abandoning its rider.

Crack… Everyone turns my way at the sound of my wrist giving
under the pressure.

“Here you go.” Boston sets a cup in front of me, but my
hands are too busy for coffee as I continue to massage my wrist, my eyes
looking past Julie. Could they hear my heartbeat? Could they see the tension on
my face?

I don’t know when he took the seat between Julie and I. Time
has lost all structure. Minutes could be hours; days could be seconds for all I
knew.

The voices in my head are clamoring. I have to get out of
here. Palms grossly moist, I rub them against my thighs anxiety climbing my
spine fast like a centipede.

“I’ve gotta go.” I stand, my grossly long legs banging into
the table, setting cups to teeter, flatware to clatter. Waving my hand in a
careless gesture of goodbye, I head to the door in a rush, without any
explanation. I don’t hear what Boston says, but he isn’t far behind me.

I turn toward Schroeder Hall, head down, hands jammed in the
pocket of my hoodie.

Chapter 12

“Sterling? Are you okay?”

“Fine.” My answer is terse in the “leave me alone” sense.

He comes up next to me, fists shoved into jean pockets
mirroring my posture. We walk side by side, but not touching, an invisible wall
around me as I worry my lip. He left me alone for a minute, but not forever.
Blocks away he asks, “What’s up? You left without your coffee.”

“You did too.” I snipe, defensive.

“Sterling.” He sighs sounding confused but curious, at a
loss, but trying to understand. “What’s wrong? I’m not interested in Julie you
know.”

I don’t answer. I can’t talk about it. My pain is too new. I
thought my world had changed. I felt like I had my life together, back on
track, but I’m deceiving myself. It’s too soon. I can’t change my circumstances.
I can’t pretend everything is normal because it’s not.

Boston picks up speed, moving in front of me and turning to
face me before stopping in my path. He leaves me two options, running into him
or stopping too.

“Talk to me Sterling. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I look down, hoping to hide the shadows in my eyes as my gut
clenches in an effort to hold back the roiling agony, the darkness that
threatens to drag me down at the reminder of Emma.

My voice catches in my throat. I have to tell him something.
Croaking as I begin to speak, I lie. “It’s Halloween. I have trouble with
Halloween, although I thought this year might be different until I saw the
first costume.”

His eyebrows drew together, confusion wrinkling his brow. “Someone
scared you?”

“No. I saw someone in a costume, and that reminded me of a
terrible Halloween I’d rather forget.”

“What do you mean by terrible, monsters, scary clowns,
something else?” His brows draw together, a skeptical quirk settling on his
lips.

“She reminded me of the person I am and the bad luck that
always finds me.”

“Tell me Sterling.”

I sigh, resigned. He won’t stop pushing until he has an
answer. “I needed Logan, my high school boyfriend. You remember him?”

Boston pauses for a minute. “Yes,” he says with caution, as
if wondering where this might go.

“We were a couple and I needed him. It just happened to be
Halloween so I’ll always remember.” I hesitate, hoping he might understand with
only the barest of details. He didn’t and I had to continue.

My voice is low and requires huge amounts of effort to push
the words from my throat. “When I finally found him, I wished I hadn’t.” My
hand slid across my wrist inside my pocket, tension building. “I found him in
bed with someone, her ankles wrapped around his bare ass, his pants bunched
around his shoes.”

“Oh Sterling.” His fingers curl past my ear, his palm at my
cheek offering comfort. Instead of leaning into him, I jerk my face away from
his touch.

“I remember sagging in the doorway, my legs weak, my muscles
deprived of oxygen. He said. ‘We’re busy here. Shut the door.’ He didn’t even
look to see it was me. I needed him, but I guess he needed someone else even
more.”

Hoping that Boston thought my Halloween betrayal explained
why I ran from the coffee shop, I stop there.

We’re blocking the sidewalk, students heading to class
beginning to surge around us. He ducks his head trying to catch my eye, but I’m
too raw, too afraid of what he might see. I avoid his gaze, moving around the
barricade he’s created. “I’ve got to get to class.”

Boston catches the strap on my backpack pulling me back.
Panic at being restrained rolls through me like a building wave. I snap my head
around, glaring. Sadness and disappointment bank in his eyes. “There’s
something more, isn’t there?”

“That’s it. There’s nothing more.”

“There’s something more.”

I’m ready to spill, can barely hold back the words, but I
stuff the impulse back down, jamming it deep. I can trust Boston. I know I can,
but I have to think about myself first. I have to protect myself because I am
me and my relationships always dissolve. Everyone goes. I may dream of
something more, but this is my truth.

Warmth radiates from his eyes, and I tremble as the heat
from his fingers seeps through my sleeve where they trail up and down my arm,
from shoulder to elbow and back again. It’s easier to play the ostrich.

“I’ve gotta go to class.” I walk away.

“Can I still get a ride to work with you?”

“Yeah…. Yeah, this isn’t you. Okay.” I haven’t felt awkward
with him in several weeks, and now I’m bumbling again.

Boston stands still, watching as I walk off toward Schroeder
Hall, on a mission to get away. My shoulders are hunched against the wind, but
also against the dread and the tears that build within me, welling up from my
belly and clogging my throat. I wonder if we’re getting too close.

* * *

“Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday.”

There’s no response. “Boston?”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry I ran out on you yesterday.” I can feel quivers
in my stomach from my deception and based on his silence today, I feel like he
suspects, like he no longer trusts me.

“It’s okay.”

“Then what’s wrong?” I push, not certain why.

“It’s my dad.”

“Oh.” I flip on the signal to go around the block and park
behind the hotel.

“Mom called last night. She said he’s sick and I need to
come for a visit.”

“Are you going?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t want to, but my parents are older and
if it’s something serious….”

“You’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t get to say
goodbye, maybe make amends?”

“Right.”

“Then go. Don’t let hard feelings and regrets stand in the
way of your future.”

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

“Then it’s on him. You make an effort, and if he doesn’t
respond, it’s his loss.”

“It could be my loss too.”

“Yeah,” I agree, thinking about my mother, “But it’s his
fault. You would have done your part.”

“Maybe I’ll go.”

“Where are your parents?”

“Chicago.”

I pull forward into a parallel parking space with a car in
front and an alley behind me.

“That’s not far. You can make it a day trip.”

“If I had a car.”

“Wanna borrow mine?”

“No. I can’t leave you stranded. I’ll take the bus.”

I shift into park and turn the key. “How about the ride
board?” Pulling out my phone, I click on the app and scroll to Chicago. “Here.
There’s a bunch of people going that way.”

His thumb flicks, scrolling down the screen as his eyes
scan.

“This will work,” he says, sounding normal again and maybe a
bit excited about the possibility of finding common ground with his parents.

Boston’s fingers caress my cheek as I lean across the
console. He pulls me toward him without pulling. I melt when our lips meet.
After weeks, I expect finally to have enough of him any day now, but the more
time we spend together, the more time I need.

He pulls away first. “Don’t want to be late for work,” he
offers against my mouth.

My lips cling, not letting go. “I don’t care right now.” My
fingers slide around the back of his neck, holding tight, so he doesn’t get any
ideas about leaving me right now.

* * *

Lyla gave Boston a night off. He’s leaving this morning and
coming back tomorrow afternoon so he doesn’t miss any classes.

As I wait for his ride to arrive, I wonder about Boston’s
relationship with his parents. They’ve already lost one child so I can’t
imagine why they don’t hold tight to the only child they have left. I would
hold tight to Emma, protect her at all costs, if I still could.

Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe they’re smothering him.
Still, that’s something to protest, not avoid for years.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen your parents?”

“Seven years.”

“Do they smother you?”

Boston gives me a strange look in response to the question. “What
makes you think that?”

“I don’t know. It’s just. Well, you haven’t seen them in a
long time.

“I can’t talk about this right now. I have to get through
this weekend and then maybe.”

“Okay.” I can see I’ve touched on a nerve, and I agree to
leave it alone, for now.

“Hiya.”

We both turn to see Julie walking our way. My stomach sinks.
There’s no place to go, no getting away this time, until Boston’s ride arrives.

“Hey Julie. Whatcha doin?” Boston leans in to kiss her cheek
while she watches me over his shoulder, a smug look on her face.

“I’m your ride to Chicago,” she says with a smile that turns
smirk as he leans down to grab his duffle.

“Lead the way,” I say, not giving her the satisfaction. She
may think she’s getting to me, but I swallow my visceral reactions and follow.

At her car, Julie opens the trunk and moves around to the
driver’s door. While Boston is behind the trunk, she waggles her fingers in my
direction saying, “You can go now Sterling. I’ll take good care of him for the
next few days.”

Boston slams the trunk before pulling me close to say
goodbye. Gloom settles in my stomach at the upcoming separation.

“I’ll miss you Sterling.” He nudges my temple with his
cheek, and I lean in. I can’t help myself.

I bow my head, lifting my eyes and not letting on how hard
this is.

“Julie’s ready. You’re ready. Go see your father and mother,
see if you can repair your relationship.”

“I know it’s only one night, but I’m going to miss you,” he
says, pulling me into his arms.

Wrapping my arms around his lower back, I settle my cheek
against his neck, right above his collarbone. “It’s not like we spend all that
many nights together,” I murmur below his chin.

“True, but I’ll be in Chicago, and that might as well be a
million miles away.”

“C’mon, it’s only two hours away,” I protest, with a funny
feeling in my stomach.

“Well I can’t run over to your apartment at a moment’s
notice.”

“You can call me.”

“Sure. I’ll call and text along the way.

“I’m having lunch with Annie so if I don’t answer, that’s
why.”

“Okay.”

I lift my head to meet his eyes and slide my arms up his
back, pulling his shoulders even closer. I can see the smile in his eyes and
some uncertainty.

“I’ll be right here waiting when you get back.”

Boston holds me up against his body, my toes barely skimming
the ground as his lips crush mine in our first farewell. I hold on as tight as
I can, feeling like one of those clingy girls who doesn’t know what to do when
not attached to her boyfriend.

“Gross,” says Julie. “Get a room.”

We pull apart. Julie pulls open the driver’s door and
disappears inside.

“Have a safe trip and a good visit with your parents.”

“I will. Miss me?” he questions, in our last moment.

“Hell, I miss you already.”

He smiles, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me in for one
last hard kiss.

I wave as Julie pulls from the curb and continue waving
until they’re out of sight.

Feeling like a sap, I drop my arm, turning back to my car.
Pulling up the hood on my jacket, I shove my hands in my pockets and drop my
head, so people on the street don’t see the moisture gathering in my eyes.

Chapter 13

Annie and I meet on the street outside the sandwich shop.
She wraps her arms around me and pulls me in for a hug. I’ve never been a
hugger, either with family or friends, except for Emma.

I wrap my arms around Annie, taking comfort in the greeting.

We enter the dim sandwich shop. I’m comfortable here. It’s
not bright with sunlight or fluorescent, just a dim amber glow and earthy
tones. It’s the slowing pace of autumn, the color of Boston’s eyes, the warm
feeling of hearth and the melancholy of endings.

We order sandwiches and move on to the drink station where I
add a touch of cream to my coffee. Annie goes for a soda.

“I should try drinking coffee,” she says, “if it’ll keep me
thin like you.”

“I didn’t drink coffee before Boston. It must be good genes.”
I think about how thin my mother is. Then I wonder if I’m wrong and her weight
is more about her lifestyle choices than her genes.

“So where’s the B-man today?” We’d just settled into our
seats.

“He went to Chicago to see his parents.”

“Whaaat?”

“I know. I guess his dad is sick and his mom wants him to
visit.”

Annie sighs. “I hope it goes well.”

“Me too.”

Our sandwiches arrive and we’re quiet for a minute, enjoying
our lunch.

“So do you miss him already?”

“I do.” I can feel the ends of my lips curl up at the
thought. It’s one of those closed-mouth, not-trying-to-smile, but you can’t
help yourself smiles.

“You’re falling in love Sterling.”

“What? I am not. This is a casual thing.”

“There’s nothing casual about you and Boston,” she smirks.

“But there is. We’re not dating, not boyfriend and
girlfriend, just friends who enjoy each other’s company.”

“And each other’s bodies … don’t forget that.” There’s
laughter in her voice that’s somehow grating, when it shouldn’t be.

I smile, but I can’t laugh. “I think Julie likes him,” I
confess.

“I know she does. She makes every effort to have breakfast
with me, and she’s always so much brighter when he joins us.”

Something sinks inside my chest. “She has breakfast with
him?”

“With us, not him alone.”

That should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. The hot-air
balloon that’s been there before is deflating fast. It’s not an explosive
blowout or a slow leak, more a sudden loss.

“Oh no … I’m falling in love.”

“Actually Sterling, I think you’re already in love. There’s
nothing you can do now, but hold on and enjoy it.”

“But I don’t want to hold on,” I whine.

“Too bad. This is what we all live for, the thing we’re all looking
for. Some search years and you’re one of the lucky ones who found it early. Now
all you have to do is grab hold of Boston and hang on.”

“My relationships spell disaster and I’d hate to do that to
him.”

“What do you mean, ‘do that to him?’”

“I mean get serious and then implode. It’s got to be even
harder when love is involved. I’m not going to do it Annie.”

“Oh Sterling, It isn’t always that way.”

“It is for me. I’ve had enough and I’m not sure I want to go
through it again.”

“Then why did you start seeing Boston?”

“I don’t know.” I slouch, my head tipping forward, my back
hunching, wilting like a flower collapsing from within.

“It’s because you like him. You’re attracted to him, and you
hoped something might come of it.”

“No. I like him. I’m attracted to him and I figured sleeping
with him would get him out of my system.”

“You thought you were just scratching an itch? You are so
wrong Sterling. I could see it that first day he walked you to class. There’s
something between you two, and you better figure it out before you push him
away.”

“I’m not figuring anything out,” I huff, my spine going
stiff again. I grab my bag, knocking my chair over as I rush to the door.

I leave Annie sitting at the table, both her lunch and mine
half eaten as I rush from the sandwich shop.

Walking back to my car, I bowed my shoulders against the
cold washing through me. It’s not from the frigid November air. I’m cold
because I’m running from the truth.

* * *

They were late. I waited for nearly twenty minutes, pacing
and nervous before I texted. “You guys coming?”

“Sorry. We got slowed down coming out of the city.”

“What’s your ETA?”

“About ten.”

“Okay. I’m here.”

“You don’t have to wait. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“I’ll wait. I’ve missed you.”

“Good. I’ve missed you too.”

It’s true. I’ve missed him. I didn’t sleep much last night,
coming to terms with Annie’s insight. I’m not jealous, although I am worried.
If I really love this guy, it’s going to be like Emma all over again when it
ends. I contemplate ending it now. I’ve had my fun, but I’m not ready. That
little bit of hope sparking and then disappearing like a flash of reflected
sunlight keeps me focused. I want to see where it comes from, bask in it and
see where takes me.

As I’ll soon learn, when the sun moves that flash of reflected
light disappears. Like Emma, it’s over already. I just don’t know it yet.

“Hi,” Boston says as he climbs out of the car, leaning in to
kiss me. He pulls back with a big goofy grin, his arm still holding tight
around my waist.

“You’ve missed me. I can tell.” I try to smirk, but I can’t
keep the secret as my lips curl into a big smile of my own.

“You’ve missed me too I see.”

Julie’s not so excited about our reunion. “Cut it out you
guys. You’re embarrassing.”

“You’re just jealous,” Boston teases as he pulls away and
moves toward Julie to get his bag from the trunk.

“Hey, can you check my oil before you go?”

“Sure. I need to give you money for gas too.”

“No need. I was going anyway.”

I stand to the side watching as she cocks her head and flips
her hair, trying to get his attention. He didn’t seem to notice as he pulled a
red scrap of fabric from a small bin in the trunk.

“Can I use this?”

“Yep. There’s oil and windshield wash too.”

He grabbed the jug of blue liquid and left us behind the
car, ducking into the driver’s door to pull the hood latch.

“You guys had a good trip?”

“It was wonderful,” Julie beamed as if she’d been on the
best date ever.

“Good.” I had nothing else to say, standing quiet and
awkward while waiting for Boston. The hood is up and he’s disappeared behind it
doing whatever it is he’s doing.

“I know who you are Sterling.”

“What?” Tension laced through me, pulling that single word
tight.

“My family lived here until this summer.” I didn’t
understand and she must have realized from my expression because she continued.
“My dad took a job in Chicago almost two years ago and he commuted rather than
moving while I was still in high school.”

That’s not what I really wanted to know. She’s younger than
me and I can’t imagine where we might have had contact, but I’m cautious. “What
do you know?”

“I know about the drunk driving, about Emma dying. I saw the
news. I even know about your mom.”

My mind is scrambling to figure out where she’s going with
this. It’s public record, although not many would be interested enough to check
it out. My eyebrows pull together and I pin her with a stare.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him. I didn’t share your secret.”

I still wonder if she knows the real secret. So few do, “Tell
him what?”

“Don’t worry Sterling,” she stresses. “I didn’t tell him
anything. There’s something you should know though.”

“What?” My mind is frantic, my eyes probing. I struggle to
see what she really knows, but she’s playing coy. I grapple with the impulse to
wrap my hands around her throat and shake the words out. “What do you know?” I
hiss.

“He’s a drunk driver.”

My world goes glacial, the drone in my ears drowning out the
rest of her words. Of all the things she might have said, this came at me like
a freight train bearing down on a blind guy. I hear the hum of car tires on the
road next to the parking lot. A seagull squeals as it reels above. The hiss of
air released from the bus as it stops to offload passengers is there too, but I
can’t hear her words. Her lips move, but there’s no sound as if I’m surrounded
by a wall. Far-off noises ring loud in my ears while anything close bounces off
the barrier, not quite reaching me.

“What?” I feel like an idiot, a mynah bird squawking and “what”
is the only word I know.

“He told me himself on the drive.”

“He told you he drinks and drives?” Thoughts of that first
party when he drove everyone home drifted back. He’d said he doesn’t drink and
drive. It was the first chink in my armor.

“I don’t think he does anymore, but he did, got in trouble,
ruined his relationship with his parents.”

I’m numb. Right when I thought I might want to chase that
flash of light, that glimpse of peace, that shimmer of happiness, life springs
the trap and I’m stuck again, damn it!

“He never told me,” I whisper.

“I didn’t think so, but like I said, I know who you are and
I thought you needed to know.”

Too wrapped up in my own thoughts, my own reactions, I didn’t
see the malice glimmering in her eyes, the glee she took in revealing Boston’s
secret, until it was much too late.

A loud whack from the front of the car startles both of us
as. I jerked, turning with sharp panic riding me to see Boston moving away from
the front of the car. My heartbeat calms and my eyes slide back to Julie to
find she’s studying me.

“I thought you should know.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re good to go Julie.” Boston drops the red rag into the
bin, sliding the jug of washer fluid back into place. “You sure I can’t give
you any money for gas?”

“I’m sure.” She smiles tilting her head, interest oozing
from every pore. “You’re a good travel companion. I’ll let you know next time I
go in case you’d like to ride along again.”

“I don’t think so. Well, maybe.” His head shook side to side
and he sounded vague and uncertain. “I’ll let you know.”

Boston grabbed his duffel with one hand, slinging it over
his shoulder and across his body while wrapping the other arm around me as we
headed toward my car.

“I missed you.”

“Umm hmm.”

“Hungry?”

“No. I’m tired Boston. I should get some sleep.”

I turned to study his expression, wondering if he knew what
Julie had said. When our eyes met, his were hooded, want and need lurking. “Want
me to come back to your place?”

I unlock the passenger door, now knowing to avoid his gaze.

“No. I’m in desperate need of sleep.”

“Couldn’t sleep while I was away?”

“Something like that.” I didn’t want to tell him I’d tossed
and turned with the thought that I might be in love spiraling through my mind
like those dancers that spin with colorful skirts flaring as their revolutions
continue in a journey without destination. No good can come of it now.

Boston watches me as I move around to the driver’s door. He
doesn’t bend into the car until I slide into my seat.

“I wish you could have been there,” he says, leaning across
the console to kiss me.

I turn my face away, ducking my head. His lips land on my
temple and I endure, putting the car in gear.

As I pull away from the curb I wonder, how I could let this
happen. How did I go from avoiding all relationships, knowing that nothing
lasts forever, to falling for the first guy to catch my eye? My heart wants
him. I’m alone and he’s a kindred spirit. I didn’t realize it earlier, but it’s
true. He’s alone too. That’s why I let him in. My heart convinced me to lower
my defenses, convinced me to make room for him and I did, only to find he’s not
worthy, just like the others. I want to talk about this now while I watch the
road so I don’t have to look him in the eye, but I’m weak and quiet, mulling
what I’m going to say.

I’m not able to concentrate on anything, Julie’s words play
over and over in my head like a bad song set to repeat. I know she did it on
purpose. I also know it’s better I find out now than find out later. While her
motives were devious, she did me a favor. All too soon I’m at Boston’s dorm. I
put the car in park, but I don’t turn it off. His hand on my arm arrests any
further movement. Darkness spreads through me like the night stretched ahead of
us. I’d planned to tell him about Emma eventually, but now he’s gone and ruined
everything, or maybe Julie has, but he’s the one who chose to drink and drive
and there’s nothing I can do about that. Drunk driving is a deal breaker and I
suppose it’s better that I find out now.

“Sterling?”

His hand circles the back of my neck, fingertips teasing my
jaw. I look back, his gaze pierces mine. My breath dries up when he pulls me as
close as can be expected with a console between us.

“I thought we were good when I left. What happened?” He’s still;
maybe confused, as if memorizing this moment to carry with him forever, somehow
knowing something monstrous is wrong.

Boston rests his forehead against mine. The intimacy of the
small gesture shocks me. I want to keep him at bay and contact makes it almost
impossible.

“Are you angry with me?”

I want to say yes, but as tears threaten, I know hurt is the
real cause. “No,” I respond, hiding my eyes.

“Is it Julie?”

“Yeah. No.”

Now he doesn’t respond. I peek, looking sideways at him,
dying a little inside at the irritation settling over him like a crystalline
frost with razor sharp edges. I should have listened to myself that day he
scared me on the quad.

I shake my head in the negative, resigned. “This isn’t going
to work. We should have never gotten involved.”

Boston radiates tension. I can feel it coming off him in
waves.

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