I Love You, Always Page 15

  “Yeah, I guess,” I say, wishing it was that easy.

  “Luke,” he says now, his hand on my shoulder causing me to flinch a little. “You don’t have to do this you know. No matter what you think, no one can tell you what to do.”

  I take a deep breath, exhaling as I stare straight ahead at the white board. “You don’t know my father,” I finally say. “He’s not used to people saying no to him.”

  Professor Matthews removes his hand and I immediately relax. “Then don’t say anything to him, just withdraw from the course and go and find out what it is you’re supposed to do. Go find yourself, Luke.”

  I turn to look at him. He’s no longer laughing; he’s not even smiling. Instead he’s looking at me like he not only means every word he’s saying, but that maybe he once took a journey like that himself. There’s a part of me that wants to believe him, wants to ask him all about it. But I don’t get the chance, because the next thing out of his mouth shocks me into silence.

  “And I do know who your father is, you know. And even knowing that and everything he does for this university, all the things he did to make sure you’d get in here, I still think you should do this. You need to find out what it is that you want, Luke, and only you can do that. Not him, not me, not anyone else.”

  “So, what, you’re suggesting I just ditch this course and leave?” I ask, not sure what I should be doing.

  Professor Matthews smiles at me now. “I’m not suggesting you do anything, Luke,” he says. “Only you can be the one to know if you should.”

  And for the first time in my life, I’m starting to wonder if maybe I do.

  As I walk back to my dorm, deciding to skip the rest of my classes today, I can’t get the words that Professor Matthews said to me, out of my head. No one has ever told me, let alone encouraged me, to stand up to my father. Most people are petrified of him, wouldn’t dare cross him, much less encourage anyone else to. So not only does what Professor Matthews told me make me respect the guy even more, it actually lets me think, for just a second, that maybe he’s right. Maybe I should just do it. Just walk out of here. Go and find out what it is that I want to do, for once in my life. Because it sure as shit beats sitting around here and letting him tell me what to do.

  I have no idea where to start, let alone where to go, or what to do to make this happen. I pull out my cell, thinking maybe I’ll call Mia, see what she thinks or if she has any bright ideas.

  “Luke.”

  I glance up as my chest constricts. I know that voice and sure enough, there he is, standing in front of my dorm rooms.

  “What are you doing here?” I blurt out, wondering if he has any idea what I’m thinking about doing right now.

  “I had a board meeting and thought I would check in on you, aren’t you supposed to be in class?” he says, his eyes boring into mine.

  “I’m on my way,” I lie. “Just picking something up from my room.” I don’t know why the fuck I say this. Why can’t I just open my mouth and tell him the truth? That I don’t want to be here, that I’m actually thinking about leaving.

  He glances at his watch, before looking back at me. “You’ll be late,” his says, his voice like steel. “I don’t pay good money for you to be late.”

  I feel my hand clench into a fist at my side, my heart pounding in my chest as a wave of anger floods through me. Fuck, I hate this man, so fucking much. “Then I better get going,” I force out through clenched teeth.

  “You’d better,” he says, still holding my gaze. “I have meetings until five, so we can go over everything this evening. I’ll pick you up here at six.”

  “What?” I blurt out.

  “Your grades and coursework,” he says, his face impassive. “Don’t be late.” And then he turns and walks off before I can say another word.

  I walk inside in a daze, but when I reach my room, I’m consumed with anger. Of all the fucking days for him to show up here. I throw my books on the floor and fall back onto my bed. Staring up at the ceiling, I rake my hands through my hair, gripping it hard as my eyes close. What the fuck am I doing here?

  The noise of an incoming text pulls my attention back to the present. I reach over and grab it from my bag, remembering I was going to call Mia. As I open up the message though, my blood starts to boil again.

  6pm, don’t be late.

  Like I’ve possibly fucking forgotten? “Jesus fucking Christ,” I say to the empty room, does he think I’m an idiot? Fuck it, that’s it. I’m not meeting him tonight. I’m not going to fucking bother with him at all anymore. I’m getting out of here. I’m leaving this place, this course, and most of all, him.

  He can’t tell me what to do anymore, he doesn’t know me, and he sure as shit doesn’t know what I want. Professor Matthews was right, only I can be the one to work that out.

  And the only thing I know right now is that this is not it.

  I’ve been drawing the same thing over and over again. I don’t even know what it means, but it seems to come to me, day after day after day. It’s been four weeks since I left. Twenty-eight days, seven hours and thirteen minutes to be exact. And it’s been nothing short of a relief. To be gone, to be free, the weight that has been lifted, it actually feels pretty damn amazing.

  At first, my phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Dad obviously pissed about the fact I’d just walked out, ditched school and him and everything. I would have loved to have seen his face when he showed up and realised I’d gone. That would have almost been worth sticking around for.

  But I didn’t, instead I got myself a new phone, texted Mia my new number, and things have been a lot better. He must be absolutely shitting it over the fact that I’ve disappeared though, but I don’t care, do not give a fuck. Only Mia knows how to contact me now, even if it seems that she’s not ready to talk to me just yet. I know she’s going to be pissed I’ve just upped and left and I’m trying to explain to her why I have, but it’s a little hard to rationalise with a voicemail. Sooner or later she’s going to have to pick up and when she does, the first thing I’m going to do is apologise for it all happening this way.

  The bus I’m on is passing through countryside now. I’ve lost count of how many states I’ve gone through. It no longer matters. I just need to get as far away from him as possible. But I might hitch soon just to save some cash. I have enough; I made sure I took what I could. He’s frozen everything now, as I knew he would, so I have to try and make it last. And I really don’t want to draw attention to myself; I certainly don’t want to give him any way of finding me.

  This drawing should be the last thing I’m thinking about. But for some reason I can’t stop myself. I can’t stop thinking about it and I can’t stop picturing exactly what I’m going to do with it. He would despise it and that thought alone makes me smile. Right now all I want to do is something he will hate, something that will push his buttons, something that will piss him the fuck off. Even if he never gets to see it.

  But I also need a destination, somewhere to end up. At the moment I’m traveling aimlessly and while it’s good for a while, it can’t last. The cash is one thing, but there is a reason I left, a reason I’m doing this.

  I need to change my life.

  I need to do what I want.

  I need to live.

  The bus pulls into some crappy roadside diner-truck stop combination and although this isn’t my stop to get off, I’m already thinking maybe I will anyway. I think I’m somewhere in Illinois with no clue on where to go next, but an urgent need to just keep looking. I grab my bags and head inside to get some food. It’s late in the afternoon and I’m starving.

  “Cool picture,” a voice says to me as I sit at the counter eating a greasy, but surprisingly good burger.

  I turn and see a guy about my age sliding onto the stool next to me. “Thanks.”

  “Would make an awesome tatt,” he continues, nodding at the drawing, and I wonder if he’s read my mind or if it’s just that obvious.

  “Yeah, t
hat’s kinda what it is actually,” I tell him, as the noise of the bus pulling out draws my attention to the window.

  “You supposed to be on that?” the guy asks me.

  I shake my head, “Nah, not this time.” Leaving it now feels right somehow, even if I have no idea what I’m going to do next.

  We sit in silence for a few minutes while this guy looks over the menu before ordering. I’m wondering if he was on the bus and I just didn’t notice him or if he’s come from somewhere else. I’m wondering a lot of things actually, but that’s probably because this is the first time I’ve ever done this. Twenty years old and I’m finally striking out on my own. Fucking hell.

  “Where you headed?” the guy asks me, breaking my train of thought.

  I shrug. “I don’t know yet, just…heading I guess. You?” I ask, half curious and half trying to keep this conversation going. It feels like the most normal conversation I’ve had in weeks, maybe ever.

  “Boston, heading back home. You ever been there?”

  “Nah, can’t say I have,” I tell him truthfully. Our family trips were always overseas. Big expensive ones designed to coincide with whatever business transaction my father was trying to hammer out. They were never actually about a family vacation or seeing the sites or whatever. Most of the time Mia and I would spend them holed up in a fancy hotel room watching a TV station that was rarely in English while our mother drank and our father had meetings. Not my idea of a family vacation.

  “Oh you should, awesome fucking city. Where you from?”

  “L.A., not an awesome city, a shithole,” I tell him.

  He laughs, nodding his head in agreement. “Well you should make your way to Boston sometime, check it out, you won’t regret it.”

  I stuff the last of my burger in my mouth as I nod. Boston. That could be an option. At this point I’m willing to consider anywhere as long as it’s far enough away from him. I still haven’t worked out exactly how far that needs to be. I could probably go to the moon and it wouldn’t be far enough.

  I stand to leave, throwing some money on the counter and reaching down to grab my bags. The guy turns to me as I’m leaving.

  “Nice talking to ya…?”

  It’s said as a question and without thinking I answer, “Luke.”

  “Well nice talking to you, Luke, maybe I’ll see you round sometime.”

  I actually laugh at his words, thinking how unlikely that is. He laughs back and yells out his name to me anyway as I walk out the door. I lift one hand in a half wave as I head out onto the highway and just start walking.

  I am doing this. I am going somewhere. I will find out where I’m supposed to be.

  “Hey, you want a ride?”

  I turn and look at the guy driving alongside me now. I’m not even surprised to see it’s him. He smiles as he slows to a stop. “What, to Boston?” I ask.

  “You got anywhere else to be?” he says, shrugging.

  I shake my head in amusement, “Yeah, you know I don’t, remember? We just spent twenty minutes in a crappy roadside diner working that out.”

  “So, that could be your next stop then. You know, help me out with gas and driving maybe?” he asks.

  “Tempting,” I answer.

  He takes both hands off the wheel, holding them up in the air. “Seriously, I promise I’m not some psycho nut job or whatever.”

  I actually smile now. “Isn’t that what all serial killers say?” I ask him.

  The guy laughs. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. How about just a friendly offer to kill some time and maybe get you to your destination. Wherever you decide that is. In return you can help me out with the driving.”

  I half laugh. I believe him. For some reason, I do. I don’t think the guy is crazy, even if I’ve got no frame of reference. I spent my life growing up in a strict, controlled environment. Never allowed to do any of the things I wanted to, even after I left for school. Running away is definitely the biggest gamble I’ve ever taken. But running away is one thing, this now, choosing to get in the car with this guy. Choosing to go to Boston. Choosing to actually find a place and start living my life how I want to live it. Well, that’s exactly why I ran in the first place and it’s the only gamble I should be taking right now.

  I glance into the back seat, not really sure what I’m expecting or hoping to see. When I see the guitar propped against it, it’s almost like a sign, like I was meant to get in this car and because of that, I know the decision I’m supposed to make. Smiling I turn back and say, “Yeah, okay, thanks, that’d be great.”

  I open the back door and throw my bags in alongside his guitar, before sliding into the passenger seat. As soon as I get in, I hear the music coming from the speakers. I smile at the song that’s playing. Yeah, there’s definitely something about this that feels right.

  We drive without talking for the first twenty minutes; the only sound is the music coming from the stereo. It’s not awkward or weird and it lets me relax into the seat, be okay with the fact that I have walked away from my life, gotten into the car of a complete stranger, and am heading to a city I’ve never seen and know absolutely nothing about.

  “So, tell me about the tattoo?” he eventually says, breaking our silence.

  I run my hand over my face, exhaling against it. From the corner of my eye, I see him glance over at me before returning his eyes back to the road. I don’t say anything for a minute and this guy doesn’t seem like he’s about to push me on it. I like that.

  “I don’t know if I can really explain,” I eventually say, my eyes still on the road in front of us. “It just kind of comes to me, has been for the last couple of weeks, so I just keep drawing it.”

  He reaches out and takes a sip of his coke. “It’s a cool design, very unique. You have a spot for it?”

  I shrug, even though he’s not looking at me. “Yeah, maybe, just thinking on my arm I guess.” I haven’t really thought that far ahead, even though deep down a part of me knows I’m going to get it done. As soon as I work out where it is that I need to reach, I’ll get it done. It needs to be somewhere that I can see it whenever I need to, every day if possible. But at the same time I don’t want it anywhere meaningful. I don’t want it anywhere that suggests it means more than it does.

  I know I’m kidding myself with that bullshit though. Of course it means something; it means a lot. It’s why I’m fucking getting it. I see him nod at my answer and we continue to drive in silence for a few more minutes.

  “It’s sort of a message to my father,” I suddenly say, surprising myself with the words that come out of my mouth. I’m staring straight ahead, but I know he turns to look at me now, I feel it more than anything. “Probably more of a fuck you, if I’m really being honest,” I continue.

  “That what you’re running from then?” he asks, not looking at me this time.

  I slide down into the seat a little, half propping my leg against the dash. “Running, escaping, something like that,” I confess.

  “Hiding?”

  My eyes close and I lean my head back on the headrest. “Not hiding no. Just…”

  “Gone?” he continues.

  A half smile breaks through. “Yeah, gone. I like that.” I take a deep breath. “And now, I guess I have somewhere to be gone to.”

  “Boston?”

  I actually smile for real this time. “Yeah, Jared, I think I’m heading to Boston. Thanks for giving me a lift.”

  Jared laughs now. “Anytime, Luke, I can even show you somewhere to get the tatt done when we get there if you want.”

  I lean back and close my eyes, knowing this is the second right decision I’ve made in my life.

  Track 18 (A side) – Dream Out Loud

  All the things I see, when I stop and look around

  Things I never believed, never expected would be found

  Hopes and dreams and a world I never knew

  Let alone could believe, would ever come true

  ∞

  “You ready for toda
y?” Ash asks me.

  I glance down at her, still lying in bed. Smiling, I take a seat on the edge next to her. “Yep.”

  “You excited?” she asks.

  I lean over, my hands on either side of her shoulders as I press a kiss to her lips. “Very excited, I still can’t believe this is all really happening.” We’ve been rehearsing for three weeks now and today is finally the day we start the actual recording. It’s amazing how well it’s been going. Somehow, I’ve managed to keep my shit together about being back here, and I’m starting to believe this might really happen now.

  Ash props herself up on her elbows, the sheet falling a little to reveal more skin as she kisses me back. “You deserve this, Luke, you really do.”

  I can’t stop the groan as my eyes fall to all that exposed skin. “Fuck, Ash, now I just wanna crawl back in here and have fun with you,” I say, kissing my way down her neck.

  She laughs as she pushes me away, falling back onto the bed. “No time, mister. Come on, we need to get ready, big day remember.”

  “I know, I know,” I say, smiling despite my frustration as I push up off the bed, throw my towel on the floor and start to get dressed.

  “I’m gonna take a quick shower and then I’ll be ready to go,” she says, jumping out of bed. “When you’re done, can you grab me some coffee before they drink it all?”

  I turn and feel my heart flip in my chest. “Asha, shit, you can’t just stand there like that and expect me to go now,” I say, not even bothering to hide the fact that I’m half dressed and blatantly checking out my gorgeous girlfriend as she stands naked in front of me.

  “Go,” she says laughing as she walks towards me and puts both hands on my chest. Leaning up, she kisses me before pushing me towards the door.