Chapter 22 Hollis
I should’ve stayed with her.
I sit in the chair in the corner of my hotel room, still dressed in the clothes I wore to Siggy’s house. I don’t think I’ve moved a muscle.
The sun came up a few hours ago. Even the sunrise was disappointing. It’s like it was prepping me that the new year will suck and not to get my hopes up.
Not to be wishing on any fucking stars.
I wipe my hand down my face.
For a moment, I almost bought into it. There was a period of time last night when things felt different. Like maybe River and Larissa were right, and a guy like me could manage to have people in his life and create something that rose from the bullshit and … wasn’t terrible.
That was my mistake.
“Thanks for the reminder, Mom,” I spit out as I press down on my right shoulder until it pops back into place. “Thanks for reminding me of who I am before I pull someone else into our curse.”
The feelings inside me that the stupid song rustled up are ones I’ve avoided nearly my entire life. But now they’re here, on the surface, and they’re fucking with me at a time in my life when things were finally starting to turn around.
Or I convinced myself they were.
It just goes to show that maybe they aren’t supposed to turn around for me.
All of that nonsense River was saying is a bunch of hocus-pocus, something some quack doctor spewed into an audiobook to get rich. It’s not real.
I put my head in my hands. My temples throb.
You did a really good job at faking your relationship with her. That’s why she bought into it. She told you herself that she always falls for the wrong guys. You are her type—the type that doesn’t work out.
My breath is shaky.
It wouldn’t have lasted anyway.
How could it?
You had to save her from her own undoing.
I force a swallow.
Her perfume is still on my shirt. It’s the only reason I haven’t taken it off. Every time I’ve started to, my heart lodges in my throat, and my hands fall to my sides.
If I have to give myself a break somewhere, it’s going to be here. The scent will fade away at some point, so I might as well soak it in while it still exists.
I groan, bending forward and putting my head in my hands.
It was such a dick move to take her home and then go back to my hotel this morning. She didn’t expect it. She didn’t like it. But, to her credit, she didn’t make a big deal out of it.
She hasn’t called or texted. But I wouldn’t have either if I were her.
Suddenly, I have to move. I have to go. I have to do.
I jump to my feet and head for the door.
The elevator is slow as I wait for it and even slower as it takes me to the ground floor. The lobby is relatively empty as I stride across it.
The air is warmer than I expect. I don’t give it too much thought.
I just walk.
I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I can’t sit in that room anymore.
My feet march down the sidewalk. I try to numb my mind by humming a song, but it ends up being the one that I helped Coy with last night, and that doesn’t help.
It makes things worse. I hate being fucking alone, but I need it. I need to be by myself.
But then I find myself in front of Judy’s pink sign … that says she’s closed. I peer inside to see her putting those little jars of honey on a shelf.
Relief washes over me at the sight of her and I peck against the glass—rap! rap! rap!—until she turns around. Her face lights up when she sees me.
She hustles as much as an old woman can hustle toward the door. With a quick snap, it’s unlocked.
“Well, how’d I get so lucky to see you on New Year’s Day?” she asks, kissing my cheek.
I grin. “I was hoping you had more of those apple fritters you put in my box.”
“You know I do. Come on, boy, and tell me what’s on your mind.”
I follow her toward the back of the building. “Who said anything was on my mind?”
“Am I wrong then?”
I slump into the same booth I occupied the last time I was here. “Well, no.”
“Okay, then. Spill.”
She carries a plate and a mug to the table. Two apple fritters and a steaming cup of coffee are placed in front of me. Then she slides into the opposite seat.
I don’t really want the fritters. As a matter of fact, the thought of eating them makes me want to vomit. I nibble at one not to be rude.
“Is this about your girlfriend?” she asks.
I consider the question. “No. It’s about me, I think.”
She lays her hands on the table with her palms up. Her skin is wrinkly and worn from a life of obvious hard work.
“Well, let’s figure it out,” she says. “What’s going on?”
I blow out a breath.
I don’t even know what to tell her or where to start.
Things got complicated so fast. How did that happen?
“Hollis?”
“I had to walk away from a girl I really like if I’m being honest.”
Admitting it out loud feels like a weight is off my shoulders. But it’s also accompanied by a pain, a loneliness that’s deeper and darker than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.
“You don’t seem too happy about it,” she says gently.
I shrug. “Sometimes you have to do what you gotta do.”
“That’s what they say.” She leans forward. “You know what I say?”
“What?”
“I say that’s what people say who don’t want to really think about it.”
I chuckle sadly. “You’d be right. I don’t want to think about it.”
I sit back in my chair to put a little distance between us. I need space. Air.
Advice.
Because I don’t know if I can live like this without some help.
I avoid getting close to people so this doesn’t happen. It’s not like I don’t know the pain of losing someone you think might care about you. And even though this is different—that I’m the one walking away—it was necessary.
Hearing that song reminded me of what, and who, I am. I’ve been a chameleon my whole life. I’ve had to be to survive. But being surrounded by a family like the Masons with a woman like Larissa in my arms? I wasn’t supposed to be there. I could only keep up that charade for so long.
Eventually, they’d see me for who I am. A guy with nothing to offer, with no plans or an idea of where to even start. They’d get tired of dealing with me, of having to make excuses for me, and it would hurt a hell of a lot worse for them to walk away from me than for me to do it.
I’m saving us all trouble, really.
Even if it’s the most painful thing I’ve ever done.
“What happened?” Judy asks.
“You should see her life,” I tell her. “It’s fucking incredible. She has money, and fancy shit, and her cousin is famous. They’re the kind of people who probably have bonfires and sit around singing ‘Kumbayah.’”
“What’s her name, sweet boy?”
“Larissa Mason.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I let the back of my head hit the booth.
“So, what’s the problem? I’m not seeing it,” she says.
“Because you don’t know me well enough to see it either. Look, Grandma Judy,” I say, shaking my head, “I don’t belong in this world down here.”
“Where do you belong then?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
She reaches across the table and pats my hand. There’s a sadness in her eyes for me.
“It would be really easy for me to sit here and tell you to have faith in yourself and her,” Judy says. “And that’s the truth. You should. But you aren’t gonna listen to that, are you?”
My foot taps against the floor as my eyes sting. That fucking song about the stars plays over and over in my head. I can’t escape it. It just becomes too much.
“Faith is lies,” I say. “What am I supposed to do? Have faith that Larissa sees me differently than I am. When push comes to shove, I’m me and I can’t get around that.”
“Maybe she doesn’t see you like you see yourself. Maybe she sees you like I do.”
I appreciate her smile, but it makes me sadder.
“Do you know how hard it is to know that no one wants you?” I ask her.
Her eyes go wide, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I’m sure you don’t because you’re a great person. But I’m going to tell you that I’m not like that. I’m not the guy that people keep around. And that’s cool. I’ve accepted it about myself. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a motherfucker.”
“Oh, honey.”
My chest burns as I spew my truth, something I’ve never done out loud before. It’s freeing and cathartic and, before I know it, my mouth is running again.
“I don’t want to go through that again,” I say, more animated this time.
“It hurts so fucking bad, and you just gotta keep going. You have to get up the next morning and go to class or to work or whatever it is and know the whole time that you’re just out there by yourself.
You wonder if everyone is looking at you—like can they see the stain on your soul? ”
“Hollis, stop that.”
“Why? It’s true.” My jaw clenches. “I’m like a pet that is left on the side of the road when the family moves, Judy. And that’s fine. But it’s a whole hell of a lot easier to just stay alone than to watch that car drive off.”
“So, we’re moving, Hollis. I got a job offer in Detroit. Kim will make some calls, but it’s probably not legal to take you with us, and you’ll be eighteen soon enough anyway …”
My eyes burn with a mixture of anger and pain, but I hide it from the only lady who’s ever accepted me.
“I can’t imagine what it would feel like to watch Riss leave me,” I say, my voice wobbly. “I’m sure I wouldn’t survive it.”
“Hollis, honey, listen to your grandma,” she says. “Every door that has closed on you wasn’t your door. The good Lord isn’t going to let you walk into a room that’s not the room for you.”
I wipe my face with the back of my hand.
“Think about it,” she says. “If all of those people tucked you up under their arm and took you with them, would you be here and falling in love with Larissa?”
“No, but … I …”
In love with Larissa.
Panic streaks through me as I shake my head. “No, Judy. No, no, no. It’s not like that.”
“I think it might be.”
“You’re wrong this time.”
She shrugs. “Maybe. I’m human. But I know for a fact with my hand up that you are right where you’re supposed to be. You just don’t want to accept it.”
“Because it’s not true.”
She pats my hand again. “Sweetie, it’s okay to be scared.
Especially if people have given you little reason to have hope in humanity.
But those aren’t your people. God had to push them away so you could make it down here to your grandma Judy and Miss Larissa.
Let us love you through this. Don’t push us all away. ”
I wish. I wish so badly that she was right, and that this is where I belong. That I could come in here and have breakfast with Grandma Judy on the weekends and bring Larissa with me to meet her.
That I didn’t have to push them all away.
But all of that is a fantasy, a dream that won’t come true. Dreams don’t.
No matter how many stars I wish on.
Because I’ve tried that too. All that’s out there are dark skies.