Sidewalk Flower (46 page)

“Sweet pea, I
can’t believe you’re leavin’ already.
 
You sure this is what you want?”

“Yes, Gramma.
 
I’m
sure.
 
Don’t worry.
 
I’ll be fine.
 
My dorm is on campus, and my roommate sounds nice from what I’ve read.”
 
She remembered herself at sixteen, her
fighting spirit, the confidence she shouldn’t have had as a kid with her
past.
 
However she had found it back
then, she desperately needed it now.

“I know you
can take care of yourself, Trista Jeane.
 
It’s just so far away.
 
I’m gonna miss
you, sweet pea.”

“Will you be
okay, Gramma?
 
With the
trailer and the diner?”

“Oh now
Trista Jeane, don’t you even think about that.
 
I’ve been runnin’ that thing since before your father was born.
 
I’ll be just fine.
 
You ready to make me a promise?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You go out
there to that college and you make me proud.
 
Don’t let anyone take you away from followin’ your dreams.
 
You hear me?”
 
Is that what had happened?
 
Had she been so mistaken as to think that
she’d been keeping her promise to her gramma this whole time?
 
She wasn’t living anyone’s dream; this was a
nightmare and she was trapped.
 
She had
to search for the right path, or she’d never find her way out.

“Yes, ma’am,
I promise.”

“All right.
 
Your bus
is here.
 
I love you, Trista Jeane.”

“Me too, Gramma.”

. . .

“Hey young
lady, the name’s Vance. I’m the band’s manager.
 
Listen, you got someone out here that knows something about getting our
system to cooperate with your stage set up?
 
My guys are having some issues, they could use some help.”

Her thoughts had finally caught up to
meeting Jaxon and the band for the first time.
 
She teetered on the happiness and hope of those days.

“Yes, sir.
 
My name’s Trista.
 
I think I might be able to help.”

“All of
what?
 
Fourteen?
And you’re gonna be able to help?”
 
He smiled so wide she could tell he’d gone from a polite older man
inquiring for some help to pure amusement.

“Sixteen,
sir, and yes, I think so.
 
I work here,
helping set up the electronics for the shows.”

“Really?
 
Aren’t you a bit young to be working
here?
 
Shouldn’t you be in class?”
 
She saw the way he crossed his arms over his
chest, still not believing her.

“Yes, sir,
well I am a student, a freshman.
 
This is
my work study job for the summer
.”
 
A touch of pride heaved in her chest.
 
She wanted to be believed by this stranger.
 
If he’d give her a chance, he’d see what all
she was capable of.
 

 
“Well, all right then, Miss Trista; let’s
see what you can do.
 
And let’s hope it’s
something good or else we’re gonna have a lot of angry co-eds to contend with.”

Remember what
you’re capable of, Tris.
 
Don’t give up
on
yourself
…
the thoughts
couldn’t keep manifesting then disappearing.
 
She needed something concrete.

. . .

Even in her slow motion mind, she
realized Jaxon’s fate and hers were tied to each other and had been for a long
time.

“Jaxon James,
meet Trista Hart.
 
She’s the reason the
show went on tonight, so be nice.”
 
Vance patted her hand that rested in the crook of his elbow as he
introduced the two, the doubtful smirk he’d held earlier now gone.

“Hello,
Trissy.
 
Nice to meet you and I guess
thanks are in order.”
 
The
devilishly handsome face smiled shyly.

“Yes, well it
was really interesting.”
 
Her
teenage awkwardness threatened to knock back the budding confidence she’d been
searching for through all these memories.

“How so?”

“Um, I just
never got to work on something so cool before.
 
You guys were really good.
 
I
loved that song, “Play.”
 

“Yeah, that’s
a goody.
 
‘I’ve got you how I need you.
Don’t cry, don’t hide.
 
I just want to play
with your emotions for the night.’”
 
Jaxon’s voice sang like an echo in the fog.

“Yes, that’s
the one.
 
I think I liked the music to
it.
 
The words, well, they kind of
freaked me out a little.”

“You know
what?
 
I think I like you.
 
You’re probably the first girl who’s said
that to my face.
 
Good on you.”
 
She’d never felt intimidated in his
presence.
 
From the very beginning, Jaxon
had somehow let her know she would always be okay with him.
 
They might come up against some lumps and
bumps, the lifestyle pretty much guaranteed it.
 
But she’d always make it out.
 

We’ll always make it out…

“Are you from
Australia?”

“Yes, ma’am.
 
True blue.
 
What about you, where you from?”

“Oh, um,
Oklahoma, but I claim Tennessee mostly.”
 
The instant camaraderie they’d struck up was
evident in the ease with which she’d shared that information with him.

“You’re a
little far from home kid, just like me.”

“Yeah, I
guess so.
  
Maybe we could be pen pals,
or something.”

“You’re too
cute.
 
I’m gonna have to talk to Vance
about you.”
 
And he had.
 
She never looked back after that summer she’d
spent with the band.
 

. . .

“Jaxon, oh my God!
 
What…what happened to you?
 
You’re
a mess.”
 
One hand planted firmly on her hip and one
raking through her hair, it had become her signature stance whenever finding
Jaxon
like
that.

“I’m sorry,
Trissy.
 
I’m sorry, I just came down here
to unwind and they threw me out, jack holes.
 
Like I was trash or something.”

“Well, you
shouldn’t be out here.
 
This is a bad
area.
 
Come on, get up and come with
me.
 
The car’s just over there.
 
I can’t carry you, Jax. Come on, get up.”

“Do you love
me, Trissy?
 
‘
Cause
I love you.”

“Jaxon, stop screwing around.”

“I’m
not.
 
I’m serious.”
 

He clung to her.
 
She was the rescuer.
 
She needed this strength now.
 
But it was only a memory she was viewing.

“Isn’t it
obvious?
 
I’m out here in this disgusting
alley, it’s past midnight and I’m standing in a puddle of urine and vomit.
 
I’d say only love could explain that one.
 
Or extreme idiocy.”
 

The memories were too similar to her
current nightmare.
 
She felt trapped in
them now.
 
Nearly out of brainwaves, she
searched for a way out but couldn’t get past this.

“I’m sorry,
Trissy.
 
I’m sorry.”
 
She would never forget the absolute
vulnerability in the way his body deflated, slumping forward, rubbing his eyes
with fisted palms.

“I know,
Jax.
 
Come on, let’s get you back to the
hotel and cleaned up.”

“I won’t let
this happen again.
 
I promise.”
 

“Come on,
let’s go.”
 
She’d tried to tug on his jacket but it was
slick with unknown moisture.

“You don’t
believe me, do you?
 
I’ve really fucked
up, haven’t I?”

“I want to
believe you, Jaxon.
 
I really do.”

She wanted her voice.
 
Her real and present voice to tell him this
wasn’t his fault.

“Well, I’m
gonna get better.
 
You deserve a whole
lot more of a friend than I’ve been lately.”

“Considering
you know everything about me, I hope you mean that.
 
I’d hate to ever lose you.
 
You’re my best friend, Jaxon.
 
I need you to get clean.”

“I know.”

* * * *

Trista hadn’t opened her eyes in countless
minutes.
 
He could understand why.
 
He’d told her to go to a safe place and she’d
floated away.
 
Because he knew every
detail about her bastard step-father and the sadistic hold his actions still
held over her, this unknown safe place he’d banished her to worried him.
 

Who was he kidding?
 
He was the real cause of all this.
 
If he could have just gotten his shit
together and stood up to Vangie, then none of this would be happening.

He’d have gone on that trip with
Trissy.
 

She wouldn’t have met up with Lucky, and
even if she had, it somehow felt like she’d have been in a better place had
they just gone to her birth town together.
 

Put her demons to rest and been free of
them.
 

She wouldn’t be hung up over whether or
not to be with his cousin and they’d all be living happily ever after.
 
He could even see himself telling Vangie to
go to hell with all her games.
 
Telling
her he’d fight her in court if he had to for his parental rights to
Maryella.
 
Nothing would be hanging over
their heads, destroying the paths that led to the futures they all dreamed
of.
 

Instead, he stood there hanging over his
best friend, mounted on the hood of a car, for Christ’s sake, for all to bear
witness to her humiliation and to his failure to be a man, a lecherous fool trying
to convince himself forced sex could somehow be an option.
 
Sam approached and hovered.

“What’s the fucking problem,
asshole?
 
You can’t get it up?”

“Look, you disgusting sadistic prick,
she’s like family to me.
 
Do you get
that?
 
If you can’t, you’re the fucking
freak.
 
And I’ll rip your throat out if
you so much as try and touch her.”

“Nice speech.
 
The problem is I’m tired of watching you limp
dick it around so you’re done.
 
Fox,
Wade, get his ass to the side.
 
J.D.,
Tab, hold her down.
 
I’m fucking taking
over, and you’re gonna watch, front row.”
 
Sam took one threatening step forward.

“Noooo!!
 
Wait, I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” he hollered,
his voice bleeding with submission.

“You’ve already wasted my time.
 
You ain’t got it in you, freak.”

“I said I’ll do it.”
 
He would’ve turned and gouged their hideous
eyes out, one by one.
 
He didn’t care
whose face they belonged to. But there were weapons involved, aimed in his and
Trissy’s direction and he was working with bare hands.
 
He felt futile against the demands.