Playing Patience(78)

I set the beer on the counter and cautiously walked to the couch. I stood above the guitar, finding it hard to open the case and look inside. I think part of me knew that inside was something that would be the equivalent of a kick in the balls. Leaning over, I ran my hand over the letter Z embroidered into the top of the case in bright red. I popped the locks on the side and flipped the lid open.

Inside was a black, 1967 Fender, and while that was enough to make me drop to my knees in front of my couch, it was the bits and pieces of my old guitar that did the trick. The minute I saw the piece with my mother’s signature, tears filled my eyes and for the first time in a very long time, I let them fall.

I swiped angrily at my eyes and shut the case. Snatching it up, I took it and the rest of my stuff to my car, setting the case up front with me. Bits of rock and dust flew from my back tires as I peeled out of my dad’s yard. I texted her two times on the way to her house, but she never responded.

I didn’t remember the ride across town. It was as if I’d driven to the ritzy side on auto pilot. I was stuck inside my head and in a rush to get to Patience—to tell her I was sorry and beg for her forgiveness. I wasn’t good enough for her and I still wouldn’t drag her down to my level, but knowing she was walking around with a broken heart because of me didn’t sit well. Especially considering what she’d given me.

Other than my guitar, she’d given me hope in a hopeless place. She’d given me light when I’d been stuck in the dark so long. She’d done so much for me, and how did I repay her? By hurting her, ripping her heart out and taking a bite out of it. I was the lowest of low.

When I got to her driveway, I cut my loud engine. I climbed out of my car and made my way across the freshly manicured lawn to the front door. Standing at the front door of the governor’s mansion felt wrong, but at that point I hadn’t even thought about the possibility of running into him. Not until he opened the door and peered at me with those familiar hateful stare did I even think about him at all. He leaned his body against the doorframe and crossed his arms.

“Ah, my friend, Zeke. What can I do for you, young man?” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“I need to talk to Patience,” I said with some force.

He needed to know I was serious.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I asked Patience to stay away from you and I’d appreciate it if you stayed away from her. Plus, she’s not here.”

His eyes remained on mine while he shut the door in my face.

Two weeks later, I still hadn’t heard from Patience. She wouldn’t return any of my phone calls and she never texted me back. Megan wouldn’t even tell me anything about her. It was the worse two weeks of my life, and no amount of beer or drugs would make it better.





Twenty-Two



Patience



It had been two weeks since I last saw Zeke and I was miserable. The sick part was I honestly had nothing to be upset with him about. Technically, he hadn’t done anything wrong, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him. I was hurt and my world was slowly crumbling in on me.

My mom was dying, my father wasn’t my father, and the one person in the world that made everything feel better had hurt me worse than I’d ever been hurt. Life was looking pretty bleak, but instead of falling apart, I kept myself together, smiled on the outside, and went through my days like I had before. School, practice, and games—they’re what got me through. I played harder than I ever had before and kicked so much ass on the field that my teammates were starting to call me the beast.

I quit reading his text messages and even started ignoring Megan. I was in a bad place and had no one to help me out.

When I wasn’t at school or doing soccer stuff, I was with Mom. She was still occasionally having a good day here or there, but it wasn’t looking good.

Finally, after weeks of lying low, Megan showed up at my house.

“What the hell is up with you? I haven’t heard from you much in weeks and Zeke won’t leave me the hell alone,” she said as she flopped on my bed.

“Nothing. I’ve just been busy with school and stuff. Plus, my mom’s not doing very well.”

She changed her attitude quickly and just like that she got over me being absent from her life. I loved that about Megan. She was so forgiving and understanding.

“So what’s the deal with you and Zeke?” She grabbed a bottle of my fingernail polish from my dresser and started painting her nails.

“Nothing. We were friends and now we’re not.”

I didn’t want to talk about it and I was hoping she’d drop it. Yeah right.

“He’s a mess, Pay. You should talk to him. He says you won’t answer his texts or phone calls. What did he do?”