Charade

“My aunt and uncle are taking care of your mom. The funeral home is holding her for you. We don’t want to bury her without you. You deserve to be there. But you have to open your eyes, okay. Please open your eyes soon. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

***

The breathing tube is gone. He’s able to breathe on his own. They say that’s a good sign.

***

“I brought you a coffee,” Adrian sets a drink on the table.

“He looks better.” Then he talks to Colt. “You’re still not as good looking as me, Colt, but you don’t look like shit anymore.”

I almost yell at Adrian for saying that, but don’t. This is who they are and what they do. We need to treat Colt as we did. That’s the best way to get him to come back to us.

***

Darkness is all I see. It’s strange, like I know I’m sleeping, but I somehow feel conscious too.

I’m tired. So tired. I try to fight the fact that I’m waking up. I don’t get much sleep leaning on Colt’s bed.

Something tightens around my hand. I feel myself smile in my half-asleep state. I loved when Colt would squeeze my hand.

It happens again. I don’t want to wake up because I don’t want to lose it. I love these times Colt meets me in my dreams.

Another squeeze. Weak. Colt holds me harder than that.

My eyes rip open and I look at Colt. His flutter. Open. Close. Open again.

My heart jumps. Leaps. Explodes. Does everything else it can do.

I push the button for the nurse.

“Colt? Can you see me? It’s Chey. I’m here.”

He studies me, his blue eyes so intense they entrance me. I see familiarity in them.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

Tears fall down my face. He squeezes my hand again. “Shh, it’s okay,” I say smiling. Don’t try to talk. I’m here, baby.”

At that he smiles. It’s not a full smile, but a half one. Dimple and all.

I can’t help it. I start to sob. I sit on the bed and touch his head. His hair. His face. “I love you. I knew you’d be okay. I—”

I can’t talk I’m crying so hard.

Colt’s cracked, broken voice silences me. “Danc—er.”

My face hurts because I’m smiling so big. “Yes. I want to dance for you,” I tell him. It gets me another smile.

His hand slips from mine and I want to cry again, but he just lifts his arm. Touches a strand of my hair, but his arm falls quickly after. “Love…you.”

Love you. Not just “you too.”

It’s in those words I know we’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.

“I love you too.”

~EPILOGUE~

Three Months Later

Colt

Cheyenne lies beside me in our bed. The apartment is tiny. A studio, but it doesn’t fucking matter. What matters is it’s ours. And cheap. And Adrian’s dumb ass friends aren’t partying in our house every night. That matters too. I pull her to me like I do so often now. She still has her room in the dorm because she’s supposed to live on campus the first year, but she goes back enough and Andy helps cover for her. The deal works for her because it gives Andy more time with her girl.

“You feel so fucking good.” I bury my face in her hair and palm her breast. It feels good to know she’s there. That she’ll always be there. It’s because of her and Adrian I’m even still here. Or not a vegetable. They got me to the hospital quick and from what the docs say, that’s what matters.

“Are you ever not horny?” she asks me.

“Why would you ask a crazy question like that, Tiny Dancer?”

She rolls over and faces me. Damn, she’s sexy. I can’t get over the fact that she’s here. That we’re fucking here together. I could have died the same day as my mom, which is screwed up, but I didn’t. We may have been brought together because of a stupid ass game. Or because we were both screwed up, or needed to change, but we got somewhere important and that’s the only thing that counts. I’d play that game over again to be laying here. To know I’m really giving Mom a reason to be proud of me.

“You’re right. What could I be thinking?” She laughs and I laugh. I wonder why I didn’t do it more often—before her.

“What time do you go to work?” I ask.

“Four. I’m going to hang out with Andy for a little while first.”

They’ve been hanging out a lot lately, which I’m pretty sure Andy is stoked about. She tried to get close to Chey before, but my dancer never really let her. She’s getting better at it now.

I lean in and almost kiss her, but know if I do, I won’t stop. I never want to stop when I touch her. Most of the time I don’t.

“I want to go see Mom before I head out to your aunt and uncle’s.”

Cheyenne sighs. “You don’t have to work yet. They said they’d wait till summer. With your job and school.”

I do kiss her this time. I pretend it’s to shut her up, but it’s really because I just like tasting her. She’s so familiar now. We know exactly how to move and I’ve memorized her taste. I’m hard in about two seconds, but really know we don’t have time for that.

“They’ve done a lot for me, Tiny Dancer. I want to pay them off.”

They took care of my hospital bills. They paid for Mom to be held until I could be there to tell her goodbye. Her uncle agreed to be my lawyer in my court case, but they ended up dropping the charges since I hadn’t had that much weed on me anyway. Of course they also have some stipulations and they want to make sure I’m doing what I’m supposed to do. Not dealing. Being good to Chey. How the hell do you pay someone back for that?

“I know… I get it.”

“I’m good. No worries.” I left school and enrolled part time at the community college. I’m still going, but I’m doing it because I want to be something. Not because I have to, but I also have bills to pay. School’s not going anywhere. I can handle doing both.

“No headaches or anything?”

I groan and push out of bed. I know she worries, but it’s every day. “No, dear. No headaches. I still know my name, birthday and who you are too. Do you want to go to the doctor with me next time to make sure?”

She gives me a dirty look which tells me I’m being a prick. That’s nothing new. It’s better, but that’s just who I am. I’m lucky she puts up with me…but it’s not like she’s always easy to get along with either. I think that’s one of the things that makes us work. I’m glad she stopped bugging me about Gregory though. I hate the motherfucker and don’t want to ever hear his name again if I can keep from it. She wasn’t happy I didn’t want to press charges, but that’s not my style. I hate him, but I also know he didn’t try to kill me. I pushed him first. Told the cops as much. There’s not a whole hell of a lot they could do at that point.

Plus… fuck, I’m tired of fighting. Tired of being a quick trigger. That’s been my biggest lesson. I need to learn to think before I act.

Greg’s daddy pulled him out of school here and that helps too. Knowing he’s not around Chey.

“I’m being such a bitch. I can’t believe I care about you.”

She goes to pout, but I crawl back into bed and straddle her. “I’m glad you care.” And I am. We didn’t look for this to happen. To fall for each other, but it did and I’m glad. I don’t plan on screwing it up.

I take her mouth again, which she gladly lets me.

“Want me to go with you? I have time before I see Andy,” she asks.

I nod, knowing exactly what she’s asking, and needing her to be with me.

I get up, passing the picture on our bedside table of her mom. It used to be under her mattress. It’s cool that she has it up now.

I brush my teeth while she takes a shower. When I put her toothbrush up, I accidentally knock over the bottle for her anxiety meds. It feels pretty full. The good thing is she takes them when she needs them, but it’s also good it doesn’t happen very often.

We get dressed before heading out to the cemetery. It’s cold and even thought I know it doesn’t make sense I worry about Mom being cold this time of year.

Chey’s fingers are laced with mine. I look down at them, again surprised at how we got here. This never would have been me before her. Needing someone. Giving a shit about anyone.

Cheyenne takes the blanket from her other arm and lays it on the ground. We sit and I pull her against me.

I don’t really talk to her when I’m here with Chey. It feels weird for some reason, but I talk to Chey. We talk about Mom and I know that if she was here, she’d love to just sit and listen to us. She probably never thought I’d end up with one girl, living with her and willing to admit I love her. Or maybe she did. She always saw stuff in me I wasn’t willing to see.

“You can take the car to my aunt and uncle’s if you want,” Chey’s laying on the blanket with her head in my lap.

“Nah. Adrian’s letting me take his. I don’t want you without a car.”

“Aww. It still shocks me when you’re sweet,” she teases.

We’re both quiet for a few minutes. I look at Mom’s headstone. The dates. Her name.

Survived by her son, Colton

Cheyenne’s finger traces the word at my wrist.

Mom

“You know…I almost felt bad wishing you’d survive.”

I look down at her, wondering what she’s talking about. Her eyebrows are creased and I smooth them out with my finger, making her laugh. “That doesn’t sound real good, Tiny Dancer.”

“It was almost guilt…because I wanted you with me so much, but I knew if you went, you’d be with her. I was selfish enough to want you with me though.”

Her voice sounds so sad. I hate it. We’ve had enough sadness to last a fucking lifetime. From now on, we should only get the sunshine.

“Come here,” I pull her up and she fits in my lap. Her arms wrap around my neck and she buries her face so I can’t see her.

“I want to be here with you. I love my mom and I wish like hell she was still here…but she’s gone. There’s no getting her back and…” I squeeze her. “You make me want to live. Fuck that. Not just live, you make me want to enjoy it. To fucking love it. I don’t pretend anymore. Don’t play games anymore.”

“The games were more my thing than yours.”

I shake my head because we both played them, just in different ways. “She wouldn’t have wanted me to go with her.” I kiss her head. “I’m right where I belong and where she wanted me to be. Where I want to be… With you.”

~THE END~