At first, it had been a reminder of what I was holding on to, but these days, it was a reminder of what I was running from—love. I’d run from that shit for the rest of my life. I couldn’t go through what I’d gone through before. I could hardly believe I’d made it through it the first time. I’d lost my friends in a terrible accident, and then within days, I lost the only girl I’d ever loved.
It seemed as though the more time I spent with her, the more the memories of the past came to me. Some of those memories were so sweet my stomach hurt just thinking about it, but some had taught me all I knew about being a hard ass and not letting anyone in. I was starting to think that keeping her around and taunting her wasn’t worth the old memories and that maybe I should fire her.
I opened my wallet and pulled at the crinkled letter. I unfolded it and read it to myself. Every time I felt myself slipping, I’d read the letter and regroup.
Finn,
I can’t be with someone I’m ashamed of. As a God-fearing Christian, I think it’s best if I stayed away from you. Please do not contact me ever again. What we had was nothing more than me trying to get back at my father. It was not love, and I think the best thing is to never speak to each other again.
Have a nice life.
Faith
Even her handwriting hadn’t been sweet. Most girls had bubbly, easy-to-read handwriting. Faith’s had been jagged like the letter itself, and I used to have a hard time reading it. It was memorized after four years, but still, it hurt so good to read it to myself every now and again.
After the whole black bra situation, I made it a point to stay away from Faith. I hadn’t decided yet if I wanted her gone from the job completely, but until I figured it out, staying away was the best I could come up with.
I went out with the guys every chance I got and flirted with beautiful women in hopes that something would spark interest for me and I could take one of them home, but every time, I ended up going home alone.
When we were on the road, girls swarmed our bus and offers were laid on the table for me left and right, but I couldn’t do it. The boys were starting to take notice and ask what the hell was wrong with me.
“Dude, when’s the last time you had a piece? You’re starting to look pale and shit. It’s not natural—especially when there are hot-ass females begging to slob your knob,” Chet said as he took a hit from his blunt.
He passed it my way and instead of turning it down like I’d originally thought I would, I took it from him and hit it three times before I passed it back.
“You worry entirely too much about my cock, Chet. Is there anything you want to tell me?” I laughed.
His face got serious. “Yes. Please give it to me, big Daddy.” He joked before he jumped on top of me and pretended to hump my leg.
“Get the fuck off me!” I laughed.
Zeke stepped onto the bus and looked at us like we were crazy. Tiny was right behind him.
“What the fuck?” they said at the same time.
We played three shows in Texas after that, and it was going to be another month before we went back home. I was glad I wouldn’t have to see Faith again for a while, and I hoped by the time I did, I’d have my shit straight.
Over that month, I stayed high the entire time. I’d sing to the crowd with my eyes closed some nights, unable to keep them open. The crowd didn’t seem to give a fuck. As long as we were there and I opened my mouth, they were happy.
One night in particular, I’d gotten so drunk before the show that I accidently fell off the stage. Thankfully, the crowd below caught me and surfed me out and back. I played it off to the rest of the band as if I’d done it on purpose.
A few times, I took a couple of girls back to my room or the bus, but I’d always leave them hanging or call Chet in to entertain. He didn’t seem to mind having all the ladies to himself. I couldn’t force myself to be interested. Zeke was in love, and Tiny was whatever he was. Who fucking knew when it came to him?
By the time I walked in the door to our place, I was exhausted. All I wanted was a hot shower in my own bathroom and my bed. The condo was spotless, as usual, as I walked through. When I got to my room, I tossed my bags on the bed and pulled off my shirt.
Grabbing some towels out of my linen closet, I turned on the shower and started toward my closet to grab some clothes. I pulled open the door and almost stepped on Faith, who was sitting Indian style on the floor, surrounded by books.
She looked up at me in shock before she started to hurry and clean the space around her.
“I was wondering when you were going to come out of the closet.” I joked.