Another New Life Read online

  "Two years. I cut everyone off before my senior year."

  "Why did you stop?"

  "Is that really the question you want to ask?"

  "No, but... I don't know what to say. How could you let those guys treat you like that?"

  "I guess I didn't know any different." A lame excuse, but after years of dealing with it, I still hadn't come up with anything better. It was a lie, of course, but I didn’t want to tell him the whole truth.

  "Why are you so not bothered by this?"

  "I don't know. I guess I have had a long time to process it." I touched his arm, but he pulled away. I didn't blame him, really. Finding out your girlfriend was a reformed slut was a lot to take in one night.

  Troy looking at me like he didn't know me, and even worse didn't want to, didn't help.

  A lump developed in my throat. Combine with the weight in the pit of my stomach, which felt like a ten ton wreaking ball made me want to run away or rewind the last fifteen minutes and go back to when Troy thought I was perfect, but I couldn't go back. All I could do now was try and make him understand.

  "I'm not proud of what I did, but I'm tired of feeling ashamed about it. That's why I came here. To start a new life and control a little bit of how the world perceives me. I am far from perfect."

  "Okay," he said.

  I turned away.

  "I mean, I don't know what you want me to say."

  "Say you understand. Say it doesn't matter. Yell at me and tell me I'm a disgusting pig, but don't say okay."

  Troy stood up. He reached his hand out, and I took it. He pulled me up the stairs and into his arms. My shoulders relaxed, and I held him tight, cautious but happy to discover he still wanted me.

  "Okay, I kind of understand, but you're right. You're not perfect. None of us are." He leaned back to look in my eyes. "You're not a disgusting pig."

  I looked up.

  "You know I've thought about you over the years, but now that I think about it, in my head, you were the same funny, tough, loud little girl. I never knew why you had to leave, and I guess you never really grew up in my mind, but it doesn't change the way I've felt about you my whole life."

  This time when I looked in his eyes, I saw how much Troy cared for me, and I chose to believe him. Although deep down, I didn't think he would continue to care about me if he knew the whole truth.

  ***

  We walked up further in the stand to get a better look of the whole field. I stood next to the railing on the top level, and Troy stood behind me with his hands on the railing around me. I leaned back into him and laid my head on his chest. I kind of hoped I never got used to standing this close to him. I hoped it never ceased to take my breath away, and most of all, I hoped he felt the same way.

  "The Longhorn symbol looks so cool from up here," I said.

  "I know, right?"

  "Why did you pick UT, anyway?" I asked.

  "I wanted to stay close to home," he said. "How about you?"

  "My piano teacher suggested it. He thought it would be good for me."

  "I though secretly you came here to find me," Troy said. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.

  "Maybe the universe brought us together. Darcy says God brought us together." I turned to face him and Troy laughed, but I was serious; thing like this didn’t happen by accident.

  Troy leaned down to kiss me, but stopped mid-kiss. Darcy’s laugh echoed around the stadium followed by Ryan’s booming voice.

  "Troy, Miranda, you guys here?" Ryan yelled from the spot we entered earlier. He had a posse behind him: David, Todd, Darcy, Kayla, Stacy, Brooke, and Becca.

  "We wanted to see how your date was going," Todd said as he picked up one of the footballs from the end zone and threw it at Ryan, who jogged toward our half-eaten picnic.

  "Maybe they're up in a suite going at it," David said as he reached the center of the field and stole a slice of pizza.

  "We should get out of here. Let them enjoy their date," Darcy said.

  That’s my girl.

  Troy groaned, "I guess the date’s over."

  "Yeah, it was a great first date, Troy," I said. "Thank you."

  I said it because it was what I thought I should have said, but from what I've heard about first dates, we broke all the rules. I talked about past relationships, he showed me his vulnerable side, and we both ended up bruised. Yet we ended the date closer than when we started, and we both discovered something important. We weren’t those ten-year-old kids playing in the backyard anymore.

  "You're welcome. I'm happy I could be your first."

  "Me too."

  He smirked, grabbed my hand, and headed down the stands.

  We joined the others on the field and played a game of touch football, and when they asked about our first date, we both said the same thing: "It was perfect."

  I woke up the next day feeling guilty. I conveniently left out the rest of the story when I told Troy about my promiscuous past in high school. I didn't tell him why I stopped.

  I slipped out of bed and got dressed. I didn't want to wake up Darcy. I took a walk, and the memories came rushing back.

  After Tommy graduated, I made a promise to myself to stop sleeping around. That pact lasted until Tommy came back for Thanksgiving break and asked me to come hang out at his house. His parents were away.

  I recall being excited that he called. He was only home for a few days, and he wanted to spend time with me. That had to mean something. Tommy had platinum blond hair and blue eyes. He reminded me of Eminem, but taller. I hadn't seen him since the previous school year. I took my time getting dressed, and even wore makeup. I wasn't the fifteen-year-old whose virginity he took. At seventeen, I looked and felt more mature.

  When I arrived, Tommy had a mischievous grin plastered on his face. What was he up to? When we entered his room, I understood. Josh, the most popular guy in my class, sat on Tommy's bed chugging a beer and reaching for another. He didn't acknowledge me or say anything when I walked in the room. I sat next to him and took a beer from his hand, and he didn't object. Every girl in my class wanted Josh. He earned his status on the teen social ladder by being super cocky and spending his parents’ money. I didn't find Josh attractive. He was too skinny and too tall, and he looked perpetually pissed off.

  After a few beers, Tommy pulled me over to his bed, and we started making out. Josh followed. I sat on top of Tommy, and Josh placed his hands on my back and started rubbing my shoulders. He worked his way down to my ass, and Tommy started taking off my clothes. It felt good. I knew where this was heading, and I figured one last time wouldn't hurt. Tommy and Josh wanted me, and it made me feel beautiful.

  I turned around to kiss Josh, but he pushed me away.

  "What the hell," I said and started to get up, but Josh pushed me down.

  I looked at Tommy, to see his face, and he pulled me down on top of him and started kissing me. Tommy's lips, and the alcohol, caused me to forget about Josh. I didn't realize he had stood up and unzipped his pants. He started rubbing my ass and then he slapped it, hard. It hurt, but I didn't want to freak out. I looked back and pushed him away, but the scowl on his face deepened. He kneeled between our legs and pushed me down on Tommy. He grabbed my underwear and pulled it aside as he tried to push himself inside me.

  My mind snapped. No way was I going to let this happen again. I screamed, and kicked him as hard as I could. So hard that he fell back and thud. He hit his head on Tommy's dresser. I flipped over and watched him slump down on the floor as his eyes rolled back into his head. I knocked him out.

  Now I freaked out, thinking I killed him. Tommy, not knowing what to do, sat there staring at Josh on the ground.

  I yelled for Tommy to call an ambulance.

  "You have to get out of here."

  "What?" I pushed Tommy away. "We have to get him some help."

  "I'll take care of it, but you have to go."

  "Tommy, go get some ice." I raised his head and placed a pillow under
it.

  When Tommy came back with the ice, I put it behind Josh's neck and started talking to him.

  "Josh, wake up. You have to wake up."

  Josh's eye's fluttered. He groaned as he tried to sit up. I held the ice on his neck and helped him. Relief washed over all of us as we realized he would be okay, but when he focused on me, he slapped me with the back of his hand.

  "Get away from me, you fat bitch." He jumped up. "Don't you fucking tell anyone about this."

  I didn't know what to say. I wasn't even sure he was talking to me.

  "You get off fucking stupid fat chicks, be my guest," he said to Tommy as he walked out. "I can't believe you talked me into this."

  I didn't look at him. I didn't want to see how he looked at me. I just sat there staring at the ground and wished I could crawl under the floorboards and disappear.

  "You okay?" Tommy asked.

  "No."

  "Don't worry about Josh, he's a dick."

  "Yeah he is," I said as tears streamed down my face.

  Tommy took my face in his hands. He looked me deep in the eyes and wiped the tears away.

  "I think you're beautiful." He leaned over and kissed me. Needing to hear that so bad, I kissed him back.

  He kissed me harder, and while he caressed my face with one hand, he tried to unbutton my jeans with the other.

  I pushed him away.

  Seriously. You're trying to have sex with me now. Really!

  I grabbed my stuff and ran home.

  When I got home, I headed straight for my piano. I sat at the piano for a minute contemplating the first note to play, like it was the most important note of my life.

  I hit one note, and another, and played until I fell off the bench in exhaustion. By the next morning, I had pushed the bad stuff out of my head.

  The piano put my life, my mind, and my spirit back in balance. I played my pain away, but I didn't tell anyone what happened. I didn't want to be shipped away again.

  ***

  I mindlessly walked by a brick building, but the smell of coffee made me stop. It instantly lifted my spirits. I'd found a coffee shop, and it wasn't a Starbucks. Seattle took full responsibility for creating America's coffee obsession, but growing up, you understood early on what a good cup of coffee tasted like. The neighborhood and independent coffee shops in Seattle served the best cups. The coffee shop sat back from the street corner and took up one whole block.

  I stepped inside and smiled. Large brown leather chairs and couches created several living rooms across the vast floor. The morning rush lined the far wall, but most of the sitting areas were unoccupied. On a small stage in the opposite corner from the coffee bar stood an old, weathered upright piano. My fingers tingled again, but there were too many people in here for me to feel comfortable playing. I picked up a flyer from one of the tables and read while standing in line.

  The shop turned into a lounge at night, and they featured several local bands. There was an open mic night and slam sessions throughout the week.

  I scoped out the menu written on the wall with chalk, pleased to find not a Frappuccino or smoothie listed among the items. And, no tall, grande, or venti. You wanted a large coffee, you ordered a large coffee. When I arrived at the front of the line, I was grinning from ear to ear.

  "What can I get for you?" the barista asked.

  "Large latte."

  "Okay, what's your name?" he asked.

  "Miranda."

  "Hi, Miranda, nice to meet you. I'm Jeff." He asked my name to introduce himself and not to label my drink. "You haven't been here before?"

  I wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question.

  "I just moved to Austin in August."

  "UT student?"

  "Yeah."

  "What's your major?"

  "Music." What was with the twenty questions? " Music major, piano."

  "Cool." He turned to the guy at the coffee machine and yelled, "Large latte for Miranda the musician."

  He turned back and winked. "Drink’s at the end of the bar. I hope to see you again."

  I smiled back and pushed my hair behind my ear. This guy flirted with me, and not in a creepy way. Guys didn't flirt with me in public. They propositioned me, but this flirting thing was new. His crew cut and bright blue eyes didn't fit the traditional Austin guy look. He must not be from here. He had no visible tattoos and wore an apron. He looked masculine but had kind, doe eyes. Again, the stupid grin returned to my face, but left when I couldn't think of something clever to say.

  "Yeah, thanks," I said. I walked away, but returned when I realized I hadn't paid for my coffee.

  "Excuse me," I spoke over the next guy in line, "how much for the coffee?"

  "On the house for cute girls who moved to Austin in August," he said, and smiled and winked again.

  As I walked away, the guy in line behind me laughed. "Nice line, dude."

  I stepped back outside and headed toward campus with coffee in hand. I replayed the conversation with the barista trying to capture some hint of insincerity, but there wasn't any. He flirted, and although I didn't flirt back, it seemed nice and normal.

  It reminded me of the way Troy talked to me. These were normal activities of normal young adults. How had I gone eighteen years without learning the proper way to interact with the opposite sex? My brain flipped through every interaction I had with a guy in the last few years, and I couldn't recall one time when talking to a guy didn't make me feel nauseous or skeptical until recently.

  No wonder my brain was having a hard time dealing with my relationship with Troy.

  My brain stopped spinning as I turned the corner and saw the sprawling campus in front of me. I'd never seen it from this side. In the sun, the beige buildings tended to blend together, but from this angle, the pockets of green, broke up the monotony.

  People milled about on the grass; reading, sleeping, and playing games, taking advantage of the amazing weather.

  I laughed at myself as I headed into the music hall to practice. I couldn't help it.

  I was not the person I was two years ago. I made the right decision in coming here, now I needed to relax and try to enjoy it.

  It was game day on campus, and Darcy insisted we head to the stadium early. We walked through the gate, handed our tickets to the attendant, and headed toward our seats. When we entered the bleachers, a mix of excitement and sadness entered my mind. Since our unusual first date, we'd avoided serious discussions. We filed them away in the back of our minds in the 'do not discuss' file, which was ironic considering it was all I had thought about since that night.

  The buzz from outside of the stadium hadn't quite reached inside, but you could feel it getting closer as the stadium filled up. You could feel the tension and anticipation build.

  Five minutes after we arrived, both teams entered the stadium.

  Troy jogged across the field in step with Ryan; their calm and playful demeanor appeared different than the serious game face I had witnessed on television. Each team member headed to their designated spot on the field like some bulky-dressed dance troupe and proceeded to perform this synchronized stretching routine. Instead of music, they moved in sync to a series of cadences and yells performed by the team captains.

  I was mesmerized.

  "You see why I like to come early?" Darcy asked.

  I laughed as I watched Troy cross one leg in front of the other and bend over and touch his toes along with ninety other guys.

  The team broke from warm-ups and headed toward the locker room. As Troy and Ryan ran toward the tunnel, Ryan pointed me out to Troy. He jogged over as he pulled off his orange wristband. He reached up and handed it to me.

  Only the tips of our fingers touched, but it was enough to comfort any lingering doubts I had about us after our date. His eyes lingered on mine until the last possible moment when he disappeared into the tunnel.

  Unfortunately, the game didn't end as well as it had started. On the last Longhorn possession, Ryan fumbl
ed the ball on the opposing teams twenty-yard line, and the other team recovered it to save their four-point lead. UT lost.

  After the game, Darcy and I walked back to San Jac and waited for Troy and the guys in the quad. The whole campus looked ready to drown their sorrows for the rest of the night.

  I spotted Troy as soon as he walked into the quad. Ryan trailed behind him, his shoulders slumped and his hat pulled low over his eyes.

  I wrapped my arms around Troy as soon as he reached me.

  "Babe, I'm sorry about the game,” I said.

  He leaned over and kissed me.

  "Thanks." He looked over at Ryan and whispered in my ear, "He's not happy."

  I released my grip on Troy and gave Ryan a big hug. He seemed to appreciate the connection to someone, but his eyes scanned the crowd. "You seen Stacy?"

  "We sat together at the game, but lost each other when we left." He took out his phone and moved away from us.

  "Is he going to be okay?" I'd never been around someone who lost a game. Did we need to keep an eye on Ryan, make sure he didn't hurt himself?

  "He'll be fine." Troy hugged me, tickling my neck with his lips.

  "How about you? Anything I can do to make you feel better?"

  "I can think of a few things." Troy placed his hands on the side of my face. My eyes followed, and he pulled me to him for a kiss. As the kiss got good, I lost contact and was left watching Troy walk away.

  "Where the fuck have you been and what are doing with this dude?" Ryan's tone projected anger and in the confined space, everyone turned to stare at the scene. I started to feel sorry for Stacy, but that didn't last long. She didn't seem to care.

  "Whatever. Listen, I'm here now, let's go."

  "No, what the fuck is going on, Stac? Did you even go to the game?" Ryan yelled at Stacy, but glared at the guy standing next to her. He stood over Ryan by about half a foot, but Ryan didn't back down.

  "Of course, I was there."

  "Dude, you need to chill. Stop embarrassing your girl like you did your team," Stac's friend said.

  Ryan raised his hands to grab the guy, but Troy, standing behind Ryan, latched onto his arm.

  "Ry, back up, man. It's not worth it."