Just Be You (A Standalone Novella): And, I'll Just Be Me Read online

  Chapter Five

  Spending time with Piper, all the last week, was amazing. So she wants the opposite of what I want. Where I want some time alone and just be me, she wants what I had in school. To feel popular, have people around who really like her and not be alone. I’ve had my fill of that so I watch from the sidelines and spend one on one time with her when we can. I’m finding that I’m cherishing my time with her and if I didn’t know better, falling for her a little more each time. Thing is, she’s been hanging around Cian, going out with him. I’d be happy for her but I don’t trust him. Is it jealousy? Maybe. I’ve watched him strut his stuff around other women and then drop them like they were nothing, crushing them. Yeah, I may have not been here that long but long enough to witness that – more than once. I should warn her. I’ve tried a couple of times but then her smile is so big, her excitement overflowing when she talks about him. I haven’t had the heart. I really need to. Maybe if I can get her away from here, somewhere she can be away from him.

  Next week is Thanksgiving. Haven’t heard a word from Dad but Mom wants me to come home. Not sure I can take going to her house and hear her bitch about Dad and everything he’s doing. She keeps tabs on him and then complains about everything he does or doesn’t do. I really don’t want to hear it, especially at Thanksgiving. I thought about asking Piper if she’d want to go home with me, thinking Mom would put a cap on it while Piper is there. But Piper’s been talking about going home to see her parents. She’s lucky. Even though her parents are divorced, something we have in common, hers are like best friends. Kinda weird.

  “So, Cian says he can’t come home with me for Thanksgiving.”

  I focus back onto what Piper is saying, lost in my own thoughts. I’ve been working on my new song, playing bits and pieces on my guitar, as we sit in her living room. “Oh?” I look up from my guitar. She’s been sitting there sketching me, something I feel honored yet a little weirded out about it when she’s doing it right in front of me. She doesn’t look up as she uses her finger to smear parts of charcoal on her pad.

  “Yeah. Says he has some things he needs to do next week.” She looks up, her beautiful blue eyes glistening with the sun shining in. “You wouldn’t…?” She looks back down and starts drawing again. “Nah. You wouldn’t.”

  I can’t help my smile. She’s so cute when she’s awkward. I love that about her. “Wouldn’t what?” I let out a chuckle and nudge her shoulder.

  I watch her look back up at me, stopping with her pencil up in the air. “You wouldn’t want to come home with me… would you?” My brows lower. Not sure I like the thought of being her second choice, especially when Cian was her first. “Of course, I had thought of you first until… Well, until Cian and I started going out. I mean, I really want my parents to meet my best friend.” My brows lift, thinking of being her best friend and that I really was originally her first choice. I like that, although I wish I was more to her than her best friend. Yes, I’ve been having those thoughts and feelings since we met. Guess I didn’t act on them soon enough. But for now, I love that we can be best friends. I’m honored.

  Giving her my best smile, I wink. “I’d love to go home with you for Thanksgiving.” Her smile brightens up the room.

  She starts drawing again and I go back to strumming my guitar. “I’ll warn you. My mom gets pretty overexcited at anything that happens to me and Dad… well, he’s pretty protective of me. Of course, we’re friends so maybe you won’t have anything to worry about.” She keeps on like she’s trying to convince herself that it will all be good.

  I stop strumming and reach over, covering her hand with mine. She looks up and I can see worry in her eyes so I smile. “It’ll be good. You’ll see.” She lets out a breath, moving some of her long hair out and around her.

  We spent the rest of our time working on our own things, talking and planning for our trip. It will be good… I keep telling myself. I’m excited to spend all the time with her but on the other hand, I’m nervous about being alone with her for that long. A man can only take so much before he breaks. I just hope I don’t break and make her hate me or worst yet, lose the friendship we have built.

  It’s Tuesday night, and the bar is not as crowded due to Thanksgiving in a few days. I’m glad because we leave for Piper’s moms house tomorrow morning. It’s almost time to go home when I notice Piper and Cian over by the bathrooms, slightly around the wall, half way hiding them. Piper’s back is against the wall, and Cian doesn’t look happy. Grabbing my customary beer from the bar, I raise it to my lips when Cian wraps his hand around her throat, anger radiating from him. “What the fuck,” I whisper. Lowering my beer to the counter, I turn to walk over there to push him the hell away from her when his hand releases its grip and cups her face. I stop cold. Watch them talk. Looks like she’s doing most of the talking though. He grabs her arm, pulling her into him and they hug. I look away when he steps back and leans down and they start to kiss. I’ve never liked him much but now I hate him. I really need to talk to Piper about him. I have to tell her he’s no good. I’ve heard it and feel it. As they turn, walking with their arms around each other, I’m relieved to see Piper smiling. Time to get outta here. I don’t think I can pretend to be nice if they walk over to me.

  I got home with the urge to turn around and walk over to Pipers, to tell her what I think of Cian. Instead, I took a long shower, packed my duffle bag for the trip, and sat in my living room strumming my guitar. It helped calm me the hell down. It’s her business, I know. But we’ve become such good friends and even though I want more, I fear losing our friendship if I tell her how I feel. About Cian as well as how much I’m falling for her. I may have hung back, for now, but I swear, if he ever lays a hand on her again, I’ll kick his ass out of this town.

  I had a restless sleep. I guess out of excitement and most likely nervousness. This will be the first time going back to my hometown since I moved out. Even though I’m not going home, it still gives me that anxious feeling. Piper saved my life by stopping at the coffee shop on the way out of town and got us coffees and pastries for our trip. Then the two hours flew by as she talked up a storm, warning me about her parents, how much they love to talk and might possibly try to put us together. I’ve never heard her talk this much before. I kinda loved it. Yet it made me a little sad. I don’t think she’s really had friends to talk to before. I just sat there and listened, chuckled at the appropriate times, frowned at others. She really did have a great childhood, mostly. Loving parents. The part where she told me she didn’t have any true friends is what made me sad for her. I had plenty of friends, yet what we had in common is the fact that they only liked me because I was popular. True friends, yeah, I had a couple who could have cared less if I was the star quarterback or not. That’s where we differed. And even though Mom tried to be on my side, about everything, Dad totally was not.

  “You haven’t said more than two words.” I look over at her smiling. As I look out my window the anxiousness of seeing all the familiar sights leaving me feeling nauseous. “We’re almost there. Now, remember, Mom will be way overboard gushing about me bringing home a guy and Dad will probably punch your arm…a lot, telling you, ‘You the man.’

  I smile back. “First time bringing a guy home?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Not hardly.” Then I follow her throat as she swallows hard. “Okay. I brought home a boy once – in the third grade. He was just a friend. You know, at that age.”

  Cocking my head, my smile grows. “I don’t think that really counts.”

  She shrugs, and my eyes move away as I feel her car move over the small incline of a driveway, that sinking feeling hitting me even harder when I realize we only lived a few streets apart. “Whatever. Anyway, it wouldn’t matter. Mom can be… overdramatic?” I let out a laugh as she puts her car in park, the front door opens and a woman and man walk out the front door. Okay, the woman doesn’t
really walk, she runs out the door, off the porch, across the small walk, and straight for Piper’s side of the car. Piper turns her head my way and raises her eyebrows way up onto her forehead. This must be her “I told you so” look. Only, her mom makes an abrupt turn and heads straight for my door, opening it quicker than I’m able to.

  “Oh, my gosh! This is the man my daughter brings home?”

  Smiling, nervously, I look at Piper. Her brows still raised with that “I told you so” look. As her mom takes my hand, I quickly unbuckle my seatbelt, and I put on my game face. “Mrs. Rhodes!” I get out of the car, smiling brightly. “So good to…” She pulls me into a hug, slamming my body against hers. I hold in my gasp of surprise. “Meet you.”

  “Oh, please. Call me Janet.” She squeezes and I hold my breath. My arms are straight out, not sure if I should hug her back or wait it out. My parents are definitely not huggers. Even though Mom and I are a little close, we’re definitely not close enough for that.

  “Sheesh, Janet. Give the guy a break.” She releases me by the sound of who I think is Piper’s dad. As she takes a step back, a nice looking man walks over, hand out. Now, a handshake I can do. Reaching out, I take his hand and shake it. “You’ll have to forgive Janet.” He smiles. “She misses Piper too much and gets a little overzealous.” He knows as well as I do it’s because I’m here and her daughter has never brought home a guy before. I like him already. “Need help with your bags?”

  “I think…” I start.

  “We’ve got them, Daddy.” Piper walks around the car and right into her dad’s arms. “I mean, we’re only staying a few days so it’s not like we brought a ton.”

  Opening the back door, I pull out both of our duffle bags and as I close it, I watch her mom walk over and put her arms around Piper and her dad. A family hug. It’s cool that her parents are still so close. Still a loving family when mine is shit. I guess I’m a little jealous. Of course, I never really had that even when Mom and Dad were together.

  “C’mon. Let’s go inside,” her mom yells.

  I follow them to the front door, their arms still around each other. I shake off my feelings, wanting to have a good time and maybe wanting to be part of that, if even for a little while.

  I think Piper spoke to her mom after she directed me where to set our bags upstairs. Since then, her mom quit being quite so… a sixties, possibly seventies mom? I mean, I love her attitude but if she’d just tone it down a piece. Smiling, I think about how her mom said to put our bags in Piper’s bedroom. Piper’s mouth dropped open and eyes widened. Free love? I wouldn’t think she’d want that for her daughter. Still, her mom is actually refreshing. I chuckle thinking about how Piper snuck over to me and told me which room was the guest room so I could put my bag in there.

  Lunch was fun, until Piper’s mom brought out all their photo albums. I watched the sweet light blush cover Piper’s cheeks as we all strolled through her childhood. As the light color of blushed deepened to rose across her cheeks made my heart beat a little faster. She really is beautiful.

  “You all don’t stay out too long. Remember, we need to get things ready for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.” Against my better judgement, Piper had talked me into going out to the ice cream shop in town after dinner. The fear of running into a bunch of my old so called “friends” has filled me to the brink with stress. But Piper batted her long eyelashes at me, telling me she was dying for one of their pineapple sundaes, which I’ve learned is her favorite and something you can’t get where we live now. So, I conceded. Reluctantly. Guess I’m finding there isn’t much I can say no to her about. Maybe I’ll be lucky and there won’t be anyone I know. Yeah, right. Like that’s gonna happen.

  Chapter Six

  West asked if he could drive my car, telling me it would be weird if anyone saw him being driven around by a woman. I laughed and handed him my keys. Guys! I swear. My excitement grew as he pulled into a parking space at the Fundae Sundae ice cream parlor, one of my most favorite places in our small town. But as I open my car door, I look over at him and find his face unreadable. Apprehension? Disappointment? Fear? So hard to tell. What would make him feel this way, unless he’s worried about being seen with me? My hearts drops, stuck in my throat. “You okay?” I ask, pulling my door closed again.

  He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the shop, swallowing hard. Finally, he looks over at me, giving a small smile. “No. I’m good. You ready?” Well, I am but I’m not so sure you are. I nod and we both open our doors and get out. He pushes his hands down into his front pockets as we start walking to the door.

  “Yo! West!”

  He freezes. His body stiff. I stand beside him, watching the scene unfold in the most uncomfortable way.

  “Man, I didn’t know you’d be back. How is it out in the sticks?” The sticks? “When you comin’ back and getting that pro-card?” I hold back rolling my eyes. Obviously, these are some of the “friends” that only hung around him due to his popularity and football skills.

  “Yeah, man,” another guy shouts. “Don’t you think it’s time to end your vacation and go into the profession you were meant for?” He didn’t.

  They kept up their tirades. West never relaxing or saying anything. He just stared at them but I can tell he’s definitely not excited about this encounter. Of course, the entire time no one has even looked my way. Normal.

  “Okay, guys. That’s enough,” West finally says. Then he does something totally unexpected. He puts his arm around me, bringing me into his side. I can feel his hand on my shoulder… those long fingers I’ve watched strum his guitar firmly holding me. A waft of his scent infiltrates my senses. Woods. Musk. Or maybe that’s just him. The heat of his body along with his arm around me, making me feel a little lightheaded.

  The guys briefly look my way and mumble a “hey” then look back at him, making me feel insignificant and bringing back so many memories. “I think we should go. I’m not feeling so well,” I whisper as I look down at the ground. I feel him look down at me, sensing his apology.

  “Yeah, we need to go,” he tells the guys. They give him back and arm slaps and words of being glad he’s back as we turn around and walk back to the car. Instead of releasing his hold on me, he walks me around the car and opens my door then gets in the driver’s seat. Uncomfortable silence becomes thick. “I’m sorry.” Those words flitter around us, trying to slice through the heaviness.

  Finally, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I turn to him and try to put on a smile. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.” I did really want a pineapple sundae though. Even after all that.

  His fist hits the steering wheel, causing me to jump. “No. It’s not okay.” I don’t want him to feel sorry for me, but I really don’t feel that he is. After everything he’s told me he’s been through, it’s like he’s just mad at those guys for not even acknowledging me. That actually makes me feel all warm and toasty inside. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s sticking up for me that makes me feel that way too. No one’s ever done that before. Not really cared. That makes me feel… good. “No one should treat anyone like that.” His fist hits the seat between us, and I do the only thing I can think of. I cover his hand with mine.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. I don’t want to tell him how much I hated what happened or what it made me feel like. How all the memories flooded me from high school. I could tell he hated being around them in the first place, hated how they made him feel.

  He squeezes my hand, turning to me with a smile. “How about we just go through the drive-thru?” He’s a genius! I nod and smile back, noticing he hasn’t let go of my hand. What does that mean? As he pulls up to the speaker, he orders himself a fudge sundae and orders my pineapple sundae without me even reminding him what I like. He never lets go of my hand until he’s forced to in order to get out his wallet to pay at the window. My skin feels cool withou
t his around it. It’s such an odd feeling for me, one that I’m not sure how I feel about. He drives back to my house and after carrying our sundaes inside, we go up to my bedroom as we find the house quiet. We sit on the floor, facing each other, laughing and talking as we eat. I think this is the most favorite time in my entire life. I try not to dwell on how sad that sounds.

  The next day, the house fills with the familiar smells of Thanksgiving. Turkey cooking in the oven, potatoes boiling in a pot of water on the stove, and the pumpkin pies setting out on cooling racks. This is one of my favorite holidays. I’ve watched West all day, studying the inter makings of our dinner and comradery. He’s smiled and even laughed, at times, but I can tell he’s sad. By the way he talks about his parents, I don’t think he’s ever had a really good Thanksgiving before and that makes me sad. Mom and Dad pull out all the stops. Even after we are full to the brim with such great food, we all went outside and helped decorate her house for Christmas, our tradition. Again, I could tell West has never done this before. Sigh.

  We left the next morning with enough leftovers to feed us both for a week. We hugged and gave promises of returning soon or at least at Christmas. They both even hugged West and invited him back for our next tradition! West was in awe but didn’t say much on the way back.

  The following week, I didn’t see much of him. I was busy with papers for school and working. I did go to the line dance lessons on Wednesday and hoped to see West on Thursday at the open mic night but he wasn’t there. Odd. We’ve texted a few times, him always telling me he was busy with stuff. It’s weird to have spent so much time with him then to come home and nothing.