Lost in You (34 page)

“And Coleman?”

I c
lear my throat. “I love him, but not the way I love Ryan. When I look at Cole, I see a friend who has been a part of my life, but not my future. I wish I did because being with Cole could be so easy. I know everything about him and can easily fall into a routine with him, not to mention we are in the same field. But he’s not what I want.”

“Here’s what I want you to do. Write down what it is you want and when we meet next week, we’ll talk about the healthiest way to achieve that goal, okay?”

I nod and dab at my eyes.

I breathe in deeply when I’m outside, taking in the sounds of the city and wonder where Ryan is and if he’s happy. I hope that he is. I hope he’s getting everything out of his life that he wanted and making a name for himself.

Ryan

Graduation.

I can’t believe this day is here. My mom will be there today, in the auditorium, watching me walk across the stage to receive my diploma. I still haven’t spoken to my dad. Mom never brings it up and he doesn’t try. Apparently I meant nothing to him. I think my feelings would be hurt if it weren’t for Mr. Ross.

After Dylan and I broke up, he saw that I was down and started taking me to the gym. Working out has been my salvation. It gives me something to do. I also got my driver’s license. Onc
e I turned eighteen, I didn’t have to take driver’s education and Mr. Ross insisted I learn to drive. I don’t have a car, but Mrs. Ross lets me drive hers when I need to.

I stare at the ceiling, biding my time before I have to get ready for graduation and
reflect back on the last ten months. So much has changed since I started my senior year that it’s hard to believe I’m the same person I was at the end of August. No one but Dylan knows about Hadley. We don’t talk about her or what happened or how I made the biggest mistake of the year by even thinking I had a chance with her. I do think that if I hadn’t met Hadley, Dylan and I would’ve never taken our relationship to the next level. A relationship that we haven’t exactly stopped, we just aren’t dating. ‘Friends with benefits’ is what she calls it. She’s had one boyfriend since me, but that didn’t last very long.

I ended up taking Dylan to prom and we had a blast. Our prom was held at a hotel in Jackson. At first Mr. Ross was adamant that we not go, or go a
nd come home. He even offered to pay for a driver, but Mrs. Ross said it was just one night and we were about to move to New York, so what was the big deal. The night of prom, Mr. Ross reminded me that he had a gun and I wasn’t to touch his daughter. If he only knew, I may be dead now.

I would’ve never thought my year would end the way it has, especially considering the way it started, and I have Dylan to thank for that.

“Umf,” I grunt when Dylan jumps onto my bed, landing on top of me. I wrap my arm around her shoulder as she rests her head on my chest. Our relationship is pretty solid and probably a deterrent for anyone who wants to date her. I feel bad about that, but I’m not sure how to change it.

“You’re getting too buff.”

I look at her out of the corner of my eye. “I thought chicks dig muscles.”

“They do, but when we get to New York all the chicks are going to be chasing you down the block and I’m going to be right behind them with my broom.”

“I need a girlfriend, don’t you think? Unless we’re getting married and having lots of babies.”

Dylan slaps my stomach. Earlier in the year that would’ve hurt, but now I barely flinch. I like who I’ve become in the past few months. I walk with confidence now. I still don’t have many guy friends, but I’m willing to
make those changes when we move next week. I’m going to be a new person and leave behind this underdog.

“Knock, knock.” Mrs. Ross is standing in my doorway, not even caring that Dylan is lying on my bed. I think she knows, but as long as we aren’t getting
into trouble, she doesn’t say anything. We’re allowed in each other’s rooms as long as they’re home and the doors stay open. For the most part we follow the rules.

Dylan and I sit up. Mrs. Ross comes in and sits on the edge of my bed. I can tell she’s been
crying. I know she’s not excited about Dylan moving, but I told her I’d make sure she’s taken care of. We rented a two-bedroom apartment. Her parents will pay for our rent since they’re saving on dorm costs and I’ll find a job to cover the rest of our expenses, like food.

“What’s up, Mom?” Dylan asks as her mom shakes her head. They embrace and I hear crying, my cue to escape. I’ll let mom and daughter have their crying fest.

I find Mr. Ross in the garage working on Dylan’s car. We are taking it to New York, so he’s been putting a lot of money into it.

“What’s going on?”

“They’re crying.”

He rolls his eyes and hands me a wrench. “Let me teach you how to change the oil.”

We spend the next hour under her car learning how to change the oil and where to watch for trouble. He teaches me things that every dad should be teaching his son.

“I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me this year. If it wasn’t –“

He sets his hand down on my arm, silencing me. “I did it because you deserved to have someone care about you. I sat back far too long and that incident woke me up. You needed someone to help you grow into a man and I needed someone to show me that I could make a change. You’ve turned into a standup young man and for that I’m proud. You could’ve taken what happened and turned down a path of self-destruction, but you didn’t.” He sets his hand on my shoulder, but I go in for a hug.

“Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you. You’ve changed things around here; it’s definitely for the best.” He pats me on the back and moves back to the car. He’s a decorated police officer. I can’t imagine sharing his feelings is easy for him to do.

The garage door opens to gasps. I turn to find Mrs. Ross standing there with her hand over her mouth. I l
ook at her questioningly. Mr. Ross ignores her.

“Get inside and cleanup. We need to leave in half an hour and your hands, both of you,” she points at Mr. Ross, “are filthy.” She slams the door with emphasis, getting her point across.

Mr. Ross slaps me on the back. “Just think, Dylan is just like her.” He chuckles as he walks back into the house. I follow behind and see him grab Mrs. Ross and plant kisses on her while she fights to get away. Someday I’ll have a love like that.

“Dylan Jane Ross.”

I standup,
whistling loudly when her name is called. Her parents stand too. Students were told to stay seated, but I can’t help it. I’m proud of her and excited to start a new journey with her. I continue to clap until she’s seated. She turns and looks at me, giving me the death glare. I shrug and take my seat, waiting for my turn. As other names are called, I grow anxious. I know my grades are good, that’s not the problem. The issue is, what if I can’t make it out in the real world, away from people like the Rosses who have provided me with the means to grow up properly. What if I fail?

“Ryan Michael Stone.”

I stand and walk down the steps to loud cheers. Dylan does the same as I did for her, as do her parents. But then I see my mom standing in the crowd. She’s jumping up and down and waving. I hate that I don’t live with her, but it’s been the best thing for me. I think our relationship is stronger for it, I just sometimes wish my dad wasn’t the way he is. There are things I missed that other kids have done, like fishing and Boy Scouts. Why couldn’t
my
dad be like those dads and want to do those things with me?

As I’m handed my diploma, the principal shakes my hand and we turn and have our picture taken. I’m sure this man doesn’t even know my name. He’s never had to
call me to his office, he’s never given me an award and I’ve never done anything to be on his radar, good or bad. I’m not leaving a legacy behind. I didn’t letter in varsity sports, or have my name in the paper for doing something extraordinary like my classmates. I wasn’t a criminal. I didn’t paint the side of the school building for entertainment. I came to school daily. I went to each of my classes and turned in my homework on time. I studied and did well. Well enough that I could probably go to college, but can’t afford to send myself. I started high school as a nobody and am leaving just the same.

When I move to New York, I’m going to a community college. Mrs. Ross helped me fill out the necessary loan applications. I’ll have to pay the money back, but
at least I’ll have an education. It may not be the big fancy school that Dylan is going to, but it’s something and it’s for me.

Most importantly, it gets me away from the mill and Brookfield. I’ll be doing something different. I won’t follow in my father’
s footsteps. I’ll be better. I don’t know what I want to do, but a counselor will help me figure that out. Dylan suggested being a banker because I’m good at math, but all I can think about is climbing the stairs to the roof of our new apartment and lying out under the stars. I can’t wait to hear the horns honking and the sirens blaring.

I’m about to live a dream. One that I knew I wanted, but made possible by two people who took the time to care and help
me achieve this goal. Sure, I could’ve moved there a long time ago. I’ve saved enough for a bus ride, but would’ve been living on the street, begging for a job and a place to sleep. I have a head start now.

As I walk back to my seat, Dylan winks at me. I sit down and flip open the top and see my name scrol
led across parchment paper. It tells me that I’ve achieved the standards set forth by the state and that I’m a graduate.

If you asked me in September if I was going to graduate, the answer would’ve been no. I had every intention of following Hadley around
. I don’t know if she would’ve asked me to or not, but I had hoped. And if she hadn’t, there was a bus ticket with my name on it, destination unknown, just as long as it was away from here.

Dylan asked me last night if I’m going to see my dad before we le
ave. I told her, honestly, that I didn’t know. He’s made no effort to try and be a dad and she reminded me that I haven’t tried to be a son. She’s right, of course.

When I look out to the crowd and see the other parents standing for their children, the pa
rents videotaping and the ones holding bouquets of flowers, I can’t help but wonder why mine are the way they are. Why would parents have children if they don't want to dote on them and be proud of them?

We all stand as the principal announces us as the g
raduating class. As practiced, we pull off our caps and throw them in the air, each of us ducking as they come falling back to the ground with their pointy ends first.

Dylan waits for me as I descend the stairs. I grab her hand and pull her into the aisle,
holding on to her tightly. We may not be together, but there isn’t another person I’d want to start my next journey with.

Hadley

I love the winter. I think this is why I refuse to leave New York. There is nothing better than walking down the streets of Manhattan and seeing the storefronts decorated or the fresh smell of roasted peanuts and cashews on every corner. The sounds of children having fun at Rockefeller Center or the joyous screams when someone has just been proposed to coming from the ice rink are what make this place special.

My black leather boots pound the sidewalk. I’m late. This is nothing unusual and is likely expected, but I’m trying. Ever since I started with my therapist I’ve
taken a more laid back approach to things. If I want to sing, I’ll sing. If I want to write, I write. I work for me and no one else. That is probably the most important lesson Dr. Patrick has taught me – I’m important to
me
. I had forgotten that over the years. Everyone wanted something from me, except for my parents and Alex. Even Coleman wanted something. I was just too blind to see what it was.

I pull open the heavy wooden door to O’Malley’s. I haven’t been here in about a year, but this is where Colema
n wants to celebrate his birthday. Alex and I live not too far from here, within walking distance, so this is our hangout. Family-owned and versed on keeping the privacy of their clients, it quickly became a place for me to relax.

Strong arms encase me be
fore I even have a chance to take off my scarf. The smell of Old Spice, barley and hops tell me it’s Mr. O’Malley. He picks me up off the ground and spins me around. His laughter is contagious and soon I’m laughing with him and hugging him back. I’ve missed him. When he sets me down, he kisses me on each cheek. His face is lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“It’s been far too long, Hadley.” His words go right to my heart. He’s right. I have no excuse for staying away except for work.

“I know and I’m sorry, but I promise you, I’ll be around more often. How have you been?” I unbutton my coat and hang it up on the wooden pegs along the wall. I feel safe leaving my stuff there. Mr. O’Malley isn’t going to let anyone walk off with someone’s personal belongings. He’s like a shark that way.

“I’m well and the missus is doing well now that the grandbabies are a wee bit bigger.”