Impossibly Forever: Two Books in One (Impossibly Duology) (7 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Branden

  
I had insisted on not going home
this weekend as well. But when my
father showed up at school in the evening, there was no refusing him. I ended
up leaving my dorm obediently.

  
Pulling out of the school parking lot, Dad started off his usual conversation,
“How’s it going, Branden? How are you holding up?”

  
I answered in a flat tone, “I’m doing all right.”

  
Coming to a stop light, he tapped anxiously on the steering wheel, fighting to
say something that was probably burning his mind. “Branden, your mom and I,” he
began, in a hushed voice I hadn’t heard before.

  
I glanced over and waited curiously for what he was about to tell me.

  
Dad shook his head, deciding not to go through with it. “Never mind, it’s not
the right time.”

  
The drive home was filled with even more silence after our brief talk than when
I’d driven with Mom. Both seemed so fearful of speaking to me, almost like
there was a secret other than mine they were trying to keep.

  
I was eager to burst through the front door and head straight to my room when
we got home that night. Of course, Ashton took me off guard the moment I
entered.

  
“Hey, little brother, how’s it going?” he said, playfully clutching me in a
headlock.

  
Mom rushed to my rescue, pushing him aside as if I was one of her delicate
chinaware. “Ashton, I told you not to do that to him anymore,” she scolded,
checking if I was still in one piece.

  
She fixed my disheveled hair and straightened my shirt. I grimaced, pushing her
hands away. “Mom, relax. I’m all right. We’re only goofing around.”

  
Her hands flared. “We all know how your brother loves goofing around,” she said
it sarcastically.

  
Ashton tightened his jaw, deciding to bail on the nonsense. “Well, I gotta
run—Football practice for the game in Berlin Heights tomorrow. We’re playing
York College. See ya, buddy.” He jerked my shoulder as he took off, obviously
offended.

  
I turned and scowled at Mom right after. “Why do you have to do that? He’s
trying to make up for his mistakes. How can he if you keep reminding him?”

  
“Why don’t you go clean up before dinner,” Dad said, finally entering the
house.

  
Mom looked at him with despair in her pale blue eyes, and I sensed the tension between
the two.

  
“What were you doing?” she asked him as I followed orders, walking up the
stairs to my room.

  
 Dad staggered back a bit, then motioned for the living room as he
answered, “I was getting some papers out the car.” His tone sounded more like
he wanted to say ‘here we go again’.

  
“Of course,” Mom snorted, following him to the living room.

  
Their voices became muffled as I finally got to my bedroom, closing out the war
of words that was certainly happening between the two.

  
My parents were definitely at odds, ever since I got sick last year. Dad became
fed up with Mom for working too much. Then once she stopped it was the other
way around.

  
That’s why I hated coming home on weekends. It was quieter staying in the dorm
and having less drama, than going home to quarrels and having to lie in bed,
glancing at the blank spots on my bedroom wall where posters of my favorite
hockey players used to be. And after I had the MRI this morning, it was only
going to get more intense. The results weren’t very good.

  
For dinner, Mom made sure I had all the organic veggies anyone could eat.

  
Dad grumbled, “Jeez, will you feed him some meat at least?”

  
Mom retaliated with, “Well, you cook sometime then.”

  
The conversation around the table was mainly about my health and what they were
going to do to fix me, especially since I was going to need surgery again,
despite Doctor Henderson’s previous reassurance that I wouldn’t have to.

  
Dad never said much about it or anything directly to me. His final words before
getting up from the table were, “Don’t worry about it, Branden. It’ll all be
taken care of.” He was only referring to the money he’d have to spend.

  
That night, my chest ached intolerably. I took all the medication prescribed.
Nothing eased the pain. Sometimes it hurt so bad I’d end up in tears, and even
start praying.

  
My mind drifted to Moya and momentarily, I started to ignore the agony as I
kept my thoughts only on her. I wondered if she’d ever stop being afraid, if
she’d ever give me a chance. How great it would’ve been if I’d spent another
night at the river watching fireflies with her. How I wanted to see her now, to
have her curl up in my arms and feel her warmth. To feel the intensity run
through my body again as I touched her hand. The look on her face assured me
she felt it too.

  
It wasn’t fair. That I’d have to force myself to stop thinking about her, stop
desiring to be with her. After this morning, being with Moya was providing to
be even more impossible than fighting to break down her walls. Perhaps it was a
good thing she kept them up till now. Subconsciously knowing, I’d only hurt her
in the end when it was time for me to leave.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Moya

  
Saturday evening
, I went for a walk around town alone, relaxing in the
easygoing atmosphere of the strip near my neighborhood. Momma was working the
night shift at Thompson’s and Nessa was having dinner with Calvin. I didn’t
want to stay in the house a second longer, so I figured the night air would be
great.

  
I had failed miserably at keeping Branden off my mind. I kept thinking about
him more since I saw his face by the parking lot, how exhausted he seemed, and
of course, when he placed his hand on mine at the campus café. Branden left a
mark on me that followed me to Berlin Heights.

  
I wondered how he was doing, what he was doing, why he never seemed to go home
for weekends even though he lived in Harrington, and why he was so sad at
times. I even thought of what would’ve happened if Vanessa hadn’t sent me a
text. How far would these feelings have led me?

  
Argh, I shook my curls in frustration. I was so entangled in all things Branden
that it was practically like I was going in slow motion while everyone moved
rapidly by me on the sidewalk.

  
The night air wasn’t helping at all.

  
I decided to get French Vanilla ice cream and pig out at home while watching
movies. That would distract my thoughts long enough to forget altogether.

  
As I turned the corner to enter the store, I glimpsed someone looking a lot
like Branden leaving the Italian restaurant across the street.

  
“Branden,” I whispered his name, discerning I had to have imagined him. That I
wished to see him so badly, I was hallucinating now. Then, I heard his voice,
that deep and comforting voice that shook me on the inside and I knew it was
really him.

  
Impulsively, I darted across the street, not caring about the cars that had to
stomp on their brakes suddenly to avoid hitting me. Good Lord. Before leaving
Berlin Heights for college, I was hell bent on not letting anyone in. Now,
there I was, almost getting killed chasing after a guy I was starting to like.

  
Finally I reached him, heading to the parking lot with three other people. I
called his name, “Branden!”

  
He turned, and a sudden spark went off in my chest. Branden’s blue eyes
expanded with delight as he realized it was me. “Moya.”

  
I panted, trying to steady my heart. What did my abrupt gesture mean? I’d spent
the last few days trying to avoid him in school yet being so close to him at
the café on Friday and seeing Branden tonight had me in frenzy.

  
The older version of Branden cleared his throat and the classy woman standing
beside him asked, “Who is this young lady?”

  
I scanned their faces carefully and concluded that it must’ve been his family.
Branden’s dad had a stern, no nonsense look on his face. Observing him, I saw
where Branden got his striking features and admirable height. Unlike his wife,
who had healthy and shiny looking golden blond hair, Branden’s dad had salt and
pepper like black hair.

  
“Oh, sorry, this is my friend from school, Moya,” Branden introduced. “Moya,
this is my mom, Debbie, my dad Scott, and my brother, Ashton.”

  
They each lifted a hand to shake mine. I was happy they seemed nice, only a
little disappointed Branden referred to me as his friend. It ruined the reason
why I was chasing after him to begin with.

  
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, focusing on Branden as I asked, “What are you
doing here? I thought you lived in Harrington?”

  
He explained, “Ash is a wide receiver on Jones College football team. He had a
game out here so we came to support him.”

  
Ashton chimed in. “How come I’ve never seen a pretty girl like you before?
Branden’s been keeping you all to himself.”

  
I gushed. He was quite the smooth talker.

  
Branden jabbed a playful elbow in Ashton’s side, his amused chortle a
surprising contrast to the awkward glances of their parents. Their body
language seemed odd, as if they wanted to leave right away. 

  
His mother touched his arm lightly. “Branden, it’s getting late and your father
has to drive back in the morning.”

  
Branden glanced at them, and then looked at me with a frustrated look on his
face. He didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want him to leave. Not yet.

  
“I’ll take a taxi back to the Inn. You guys go on without me.” Yes. That was
music to my ears.

  
His parents exchanged worried stares between each other. Ashton was grinning
broadly.

  
Then Mr. McCarthy took his keys out of his pockets and nudged Mrs. McCarthy
along, “Well, I guess it’s okay. We’ll see you back there then.” He nodded in
my direction. “It was nice meeting you, Moya.”

  
Mrs. McCarthy gave me a glance over with suspicion in her pale blue eyes. She
said nothing, turning to stroll off behind her husband.

  
“You kids have fun,” Ashton smiled cunningly. He whispered something to Branden
and squeezed his shoulder before hurrying off to the car.

  
Branden and I stood quietly as his family drove off. Now that I was categorized
as a friend, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say to him. Though, I partially
caused that on myself for pushing him away so much.

  
“So, this is your turf, where do you wanna go?” he finally broke the silence.

  
I shrugged, peering around us. “Um, there’s a little park over there. Maybe we
could sit for a while?”

  
He allowed me to lead the way, falling in step beside me.

  
When we got to the park and sat on one of the benches, I resisted the
stimulating effect of Branden’s spicy and masculine scent, not letting the
intensity of the lavender and musk get the best of me. “So,” I searched my head
for something to say, playing with my hands and keeping my eyes away from his.

  
“So,” Branden repeated, “you seemed a bit out of breath before, were you
running to catch up with me?” he teased. Damn him for noticing.

  
I shook my head. “No, um, actually I run on weekends, during the…evenings…as in
for exercise.”

  
Branden smirked, picking up on my obvious lie. “Oh really?” he said. “That’s
interesting, because I’ve never seen someone run in such stylish attire.”

  
I stayed mum.

  
He hung over and cracked his knuckles while gazing at me. “I’m glad I’m here
with you tonight, Moya. I really wanted to see you.”

  
I gulped. Forget not wanting to let myself go. It had to be now. I had to tell
him how he was making me feel. “Branden, I…” I couldn’t find the courage to say
it.

  
He sat up and waited patiently. When I wouldn’t continue, Branden shifted
closer to me and cupped my hands into his. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m
all right sitting next to you like this. It’s comforting.”

  
I didn’t pull away. No matter how his touch bubbled my heart.

    
Branden really was going to sit in silence with me, though, possibly afraid he
might say something to send me running. I wanted to change that. “Tell me
something…” I muttered, incapable of removing the sudden shyness in my voice,
“Anything…about
yourself
.”

    
Still holding my hand, the corner of his mouth slightly curled into a half
smile as he sat up straight and took a breath, staring at me intensely as he
began, “Okay, let’s see. I like jazz and blues. My favorite color is green, and
fall is my favorite season.”

    
Playing with my fingers, he continued in a more seductive tone, “Aside from
those little things, Moya, more importantly, I love your curly hair, your big,
beautiful brown eyes. That flare of yours, the way you smile for me even when
you’re fighting hard not to, and how protective you are of your heart. It’s
understandable.”

    
I couldn’t help release a titter. “You’re so…honest. You have no fear, saying
how you feel.”

    
“Well, I might be straightforward at times but I am a nice guy.” Branden laughed
a bit before adding, “At least, I hope you’ve realized that by now.”

    
I nodded. Then, glancing away from his penetrating gaze, I whispered, “I can
see that.”

    
Branden released my hand and moved closer beside me on the bench. “What are you
so afraid of? Has someone hurt you before?” he asked with great concern.

    
I looked up at him suddenly, taken off-guard by his question. There was a
feeling deep inside my heart, telling me it was safe to open up to him. “I
was,” my voice came out almost inaudible. “I…um…”

    
With patient eyes, Branden stared at me, listening keenly for what I was trying
to say. I couldn’t. The trust I found myself developing for him just wasn’t
deep enough to share the part of me that I kept hidden. The hurt I kept buried.

  
Shaking my head, I said, “I can’t.”

  
Branden nodded, showing me that he understood I still needed time.

    
We didn’t utter another word to each other up until Branden left me at my house
and took the taxi back to the Inn where his family was spending the night. Not
sure what, but it felt like more of me had come undone for him. There was
definitely something growing between us.

***

Light
flickered through the window from the living room as I entered my house. Momma
was home from work. She liked watching television in the dark.

  
“Moya?” she called out the second I walked through the front door.

  
“Yeah, Momma, it’s me,” I replied, gliding into the room to sit down on the
crimson sofa beside her.

  
“Hey, baby girl,” she greeted me, rubbing my arm as I placed one of the
yellow-orange, striped accent pillows on my lap.

  
Slipping off my shoes, I settled my bare feet on the warm carpet and made
myself more comfortable. “How was work?” I asked,

  
Momma brushed back my curls as she said softly, “Not bad. It was a good day.
Went out with Nessa?” she asked.

  
I kept my eyes away from hers and on the television, where she was watching an
episode of Scandal. I didn’t want to tell her about Branden. There wasn’t
anything to tell. Not yet. Not until I sorted out whatever it was that I’d
suddenly started to feel for him.

  
“No,” I said, glancing back at her. “Just went out for a walk by myself.”

  
Momma leaned her head while regarding me with concern in her eyes. She reached
over and squeezed my hand. “Is there something bothering you?” she asked.
“People usually go for walks when they have a lot on their minds.”

  
I smiled to reassure her. “No. There’s nothing. I just needed some air.”

  
She relaxed her gaze on me then, gracing me with the heartwarming smile I loved
so much. “Well, if you ever want to talk, I’m here, baby girl.”

  
I nodded in a way to say ‘I know’.

  
Getting even more at home, I sat cross-legged on the sofa as I watched the rest
of the show with Momma.

  
It went to commercial break, and immediately Branden popped up in my head. I
wondered why he hadn’t asked for my number yet. Then again, I hadn’t exactly
indicated to Branden I’d want to give him my number, when I’ve been so
apprehensive about going on a date much less. Still, he seemed so troubled
tonight. Something was obviously bothering him. Argh, why was I doing this
again? Why couldn’t I snap out of it?

  
I should clarify my feelings. I needed to.

  
Scandal came back on and I zapped out of my thoughts. Then, I noticed Momma
glancing back and forth from the television to me, almost like she wanted to
say something. After hearing an exhausted sigh and seeing how her body tensed
up, I had to ask, “Is everything all right, Momma?”

  
She quivered, surprised. “Of course, everything’s fine.” Her enthusiasm wasn’t
natural. If anything it seemed like she was forcing to appear cheerful when she
really wasn’t.