Fortunate Son by Jay Crownover
Ry
I WASN’T SURE what time it was when I finally managed to get my eyes open the next day. I felt a little like I’d been hit by a two-hundred-fifty-pound linebacker or a semi-truck. My head hurt the same way it did when I had too much to drink and was forced to get up early the following day for practice. I rubbed my eyes and swung my legs off the unfamiliar and seriously lumpy couch. I had no recollection of anything happening after falling apart as soon as I saw Bowe. It seemed like she somehow hauled me inside her home. That couldn’t have been an easy task considering our size difference.
Looking around her space, one thing immediately became clear. Even if you didn’t know a thing about her, you would know you were standing in the home of a musician. There were various types of guitars, both electric and acoustic, hung on the walls and leaning against furniture. An electric keyboard took up one whole corner of the small living room. The computer setup where a dining table should be had all kinds of gadgets for mixing and tweaking sound, as well as an array of expensive-looking headphones and microphones. The place wasn’t exactly homey, but rather looked like the inside of a recording studio, and very much reflected Bowe’s number one passion.
The girl had been telling anyone who would listen that she was going to be a superstar since she started talking.
I dragged my hands down my face and got an unpleasant whiff of myself when I lifted my arms. Now that I was no longer operating in a haze of heartbreak, I slightly regretted my rash decision to take off in the middle of the night with zero plans or forethought. I hadn’t even packed a bag or brought anything that would make a few nights away from home comfortable.
Fortunately, I was the overly prepared type and kept a loaded gym bag in my truck, so I should be able to get by until I hit up a big box store for essentials. After collecting my duffel from the truck and cleaning out the trash that lingered from the drive, I picked my way through Bowe’s tiny house until I found the bathroom. It was obvious she was preparing to share the space with someone since the other two rooms were mostly empty but incredibly clean. It was also clear she was still living her days and nights mostly backward because I could see she was sound asleep, lying horizontally across her bed when I accidentally opened the door to her room.
She’d always been a night owl. She was the one who wanted to watch movies well into the middle of the night, and the one who wanted to party until the sun came up. She was impossible to wake up in the morning and swore she was at her best once the stars came out at night.
If this were a normal visit, I would have given her a load of shit for just getting home when dawn was breaking, but the truth was, nothing had changed. I was up with the sun for practice, or to study, or to help Daire with her homework when I still lived at home. When Bowe was in town for any length of time, my schedule inevitably ended up all screwed up and out of whack. I used to blame my constant irritation with everything she did on being tired, but I doubted the assertion fooled anyone. I was still cranky and irritable where she was concerned, even when I got a good night’s sleep.
Once I found the bathroom, I started the shower and climbed under the spray. I turned the water to scalding hot and scrubbed what was left of the sleep out of my eyes and washed the discontentment that nearly swallowed me whole last night down the drain. I needed to get my head on right and figure out what I was doing in Texas instead of staying in Denver and smoothing things over with Aston. I was logical enough to know it wasn’t easy for her to tell me we were over. I was also smart enough to know if she’d kept her college choice from not only me and Daire, but her brother as well, there was a deeper reason behind it. She might not want to be with me in a romantic way any longer, but we’d been friends forever, and I cared about her immensely. Even if she didn’t love me anymore, she should still trust me. I was sure she was hurting just as badly as I was, just in a different way. And she should know it wasn’t like me to ditch anyone who might need me, even if that someone had ripped my heart out and handed it back to me bloody and battered.
It made no sense that instead of being there to assure Aston everything would be all right, I ran to the one person who was going to have zero sympathy for my dumb ass. I vaguely remembered feeling like I couldn’t breathe all night until I finally saw Bowe. I was choking on my own unfamiliar emotions, but as soon as she touched my face, and those honey-colored eyes locked onto mine, the invisible claws shredding my insides didn’t seem nearly as sharp. What sense did it make that she was the only person who could both rile me up and calm me down with no effort? I always felt like she was playing with me, that I was nothing more than a toy she could wind up and send spinning when she was bored. She also conveniently put me on a shelf and forgot all about my existence when it was convenient for her. Which was one of the main reasons our relationship hovered close to contentious.
I was just stepping out of the shower when I heard the doorbell, followed by a series of rapid knocks on the front door. I waited for a minute to see if Bowe would wake up, but there wasn’t any movement from the end of the hallway where her bedroom was. Like I said, she was impossible to wake up, no matter how insistent her visitor seemed to be.
Swearing under my breath, I pulled on a pair of track pants, scrubbed a towel over my wet hair, and stomped toward the door. According to my phone, it was already late into the afternoon, which would explain why I felt so discombobulated, and also why my stomach was suddenly growling. I never slept this late, regardless of the circumstances.
I pulled the door open without checking who was on the other side because I was sure there was no way Bowe’s dad would let her live alone without all possible security measures in place. She was bound to have one of those recording doorbells along with an alarm system, so it was unlikely I would get murdered once I opened the door.
If looks could really kill, I would be six feet under from the way the dude on the other side was glaring at me.
I flicked the towel around my neck and lifted an eyebrow at the heavily tattooed visitor. “Can I help you?”
He looked like the typical kind of guy who always circled around Bowe. He was tall and skinny. Both his arms were tattooed down to his fingers. His shaggy hair was an odd mix of jet-black roots and lilac strands cut in an intentionally messy style. He had several big, heavy earrings dangling from each ear, and more rings on his fingers than a repeat Super Bowl winner. He wasn’t bad looking by any stretch of the imagination, but he was such a cliché ‘band-dude’ that I wanted to laugh. He looked like every other guy Bowe flirted with since she’d been old enough to date. Half the time, I wondered if they were just trying to cosplay as her dad. She got mad at me when I asked her why she kept going after the same type when none of them ever seemed to stick around for very long.
“Who are you?” The question was barked at me in a cold tone as I used one corner of the towel to clean some residual water out of my ear.
I tilted my head a little and tried to knock it out when the towel didn’t work. I watched him watch me, his angry gaze sliding over my half-dressed form that was as different from his as night and day.
He was tall, but I was almost a giant. I definitely got my Uncle Rome’s height. Both Zowen and I were a couple inches taller than all the men in our family except for my dad’s older brother.
I’d never been skinny. I played sports since I was young and was blessed with really good genes. I’d always been fit and in good shape, but as I got older and more dedicated to football and my health, I was ripped. I knew it. Anyone who looked at me with or without clothes on knew it.
This dude had me beat when it came to ink in terms of quantity, but no one could touch me when it came to quality. I didn’t have a body full of ink to relive all my memories through images on my skin, but I did have one intricate and detailed piece I’d had both my father and his best friend and business partner, Nash Donovan, work on over a period of time once I was old enough. It started out as a way for me to try and relate to my old man, a way to understand him and figure out what made him tick. In the end, it turned into one of the few experiences we shared where I felt like we finally got closer. It was something he gave me that I would have with me forever, so even though tattoos had never been as big a part of my life as they were for so many in my extended family, I felt like I had a good grasp as to why they were so special and important to so many people and how they could show the world who someone was without using words.
The stranger cleared his throat and shifted his weight on his feet as we continued to stare at one another. Again, he demanded to know, “Who in the hell are you? I’ve never seen you before, and I spend pretty much all my free time with Bowe.”
I straightened my head and gave it a shake, sending water flying everywhere. “Are you her boyfriend?”
If so, it would explain why he was envisioning tearing my head from my body with his bare hands and not bothering to hide it.
I saw him start to nod just as a raspy voice with a soft Texas twang drifted up from behind me.
“No. He’s not my boyfriend. But he is my friend, and we’re in a band together.” I felt Bowe put her hand on my shoulder as she shoved me to one side to peer out the open door. “Why did you answer my front door half-naked, Archer? And what are you doing here, Nyle? We don’t have plans today.”
Bowe’s colorful hair was a tangled mess on top of her head. She was still wearing the same outfit she had on when I showed up unannounced so early this morning. She was always a little rough around the edges, which was annoying because she was such a pretty girl, but it was undeniably cute when she was rumpled and sleepy and still looked like a badass. It reminded me of another time and place when I was the reason why her hair ended up wild and snarled. I could clearly recall just how soft and silky it felt in my hands, and how fucking sexy it was when the neon strands dragged across my skin. We’d gone from harsh words to heavy breathing in the blink of an eye. It was all so overwhelming, and I never knew how to deal with having such strong feelings for a girl who lived so far away and was so different from me. I knew opposites could attract because my parents were a prime example of vast differences balancing each other out, but it never made since to me to fall for someone with whom I had nothing in common. That seemed so much harder than it had to be.
The edge of her elbow caught me right in the gut, making me cough in surprise as she glared up at me. I lifted the towel back over my head and turned on my bare heel to head back to the bathroom.
“I was just getting out of the shower when someone started knocking and wouldn’t stop. It seemed important, so I answered the door.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Had no clue it was just one of your many admirers anxious to see you. So boring.”
I heard her swear under her breath at the slight dig. It was true, though. Everywhere she went, it seemed like she had different boys falling at her feet. It was partly the edgy, hot girl in a band thing she had going on. But a big chunk of it was her whole unattainable vibe. Everyone wanted what they couldn’t have, and Bowe was a master at playing the ‘you-can-look-but-not-touch’ game.
“For real. Who the fuck is that asshole, Bowe? I just saw you last night, and you didn’t mention you were going to have a visitor.”
I chuckled to myself as I stepped back into the bathroom. I kept the door open a crack so I could unabashedly listen to their conversation.
This guy had to be a new addition to Bowe’s circle of friends. Otherwise, he would know one thing she absolutely hated more than anything was being questioned or pushed into a corner. She liked to think she didn’t answer to anyone. Especially not some guy who wasn’t even her boyfriend… even though it was obvious he clearly wanted to be.
“Exactly. I saw you last night. So why are you out here pounding on my door? We don’t have practice today, and even if we did, it would be hours and hours from now. You and I don’t have plans together today either. There’s no reason for you to be here.” Her raspy voice was cold, and even though I couldn’t see her, I could clearly picture the way her spine would snap straight with irritation, and her shoulders would square off. Bowe Keller wasn’t a pushover, and the girl always gave just as good as she got.
I heard the tattooed band dude nervously clear his throat. The various chains and accessories he was wearing jangled loud enough for me to hear inside the house as he shifted his weight.
“I thought it would be okay if I dropped by. I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to go get something to eat with me. We’ve been practicing nonstop lately and putting in a lot of hours. This is our first real break in weeks. I thought I could treat you. I didn’t know you were going to have company.” I heard him make an annoyed sound as he switched from conciliatory to confrontational. I wanted to warn him he was about to reach the point of no return if he kept trying to guilt-trip her about having another man in her house, but it was more fun to listen to him dig his own grave. I only wished I had a ring-side seat to this beat down. “How do you even know a bland meathead like that? He’s not the kind of guy you usually hang out with.”
I tossed my head back and laughed at my reflection in the mirror. Driving like a madman through the middle of the night was insane, but this might have made the whole trip worthwhile.
“First of all, we are nowhere near the ‘just-drop-by’ stage of friendship. Second of all, why would I want to spend my first day off in forever with someone I see all the damn time? Third, and most important, who is and isn’t allowed to stay at my house is no business of yours. I don’t owe you an explanation about anything in my private life. We play music together, and we’re friendly with one another because of the band, but that’s it. You don’t get to question me about anyone I know or how I might know them.” I knew if I could see her, her dark eyebrows would be dipped down in a severe V over her tiny nose, and her intense eyes would be shooting amber sparks of annoyance. She was pretty when she was mad. She was also a little bit scary, even though she wasn’t very big. She seemed a lot taller than she was when she was angry because her attitude and charisma were huge. When we stood next to one another, the top of her head only reached my shoulder, and that was after a late growth spurt she had after she turned sixteen.
“And he’s not a meathead. Who are you to judge someone you don’t know anything about? I hate judgmental, critical people. I have things to do today, Nyle. I’ll see you at practice. Don’t invite yourself over to my house ever again. I won’t be as nice as Ry was if I answer the door and find you on the other side of it.”
The door slammed shut with a thump of finality. I slipped my t-shirt over my head and stuck my head into the hallway just in time to see Bowe march toward the small, but tidy, and very modern kitchen. My stomach growled again, reminding me it had been hours since the greasy food I indulged in on the road. I needed a real meal and a trip to get some provisions.
I followed Bowe into the kitchen, grinning as she angrily swiped her hair out of her face while chugging milk directly from a carton she grabbed out of the fridge.
“Comb your hair and put on clothes you didn’t sleep in. I’m hungry and need to hit a store to grab some stuff, including underwear. I didn’t bring anything with me when I left Denver.”
She glared at me over the milk container, making me laugh because she had a bit of a white mustache leftover before she wiped it with the back of her hand. “Why do I have to go with you? I didn’t invite you to ruin my day off either.” She winged a midnight-colored eyebrow upward and asked, “How long are you planning on hiding out here anyway?”
I shook my head. “Dunno. But I’m not in a hurry to head home.”
She sighed and closed the fridge with more force than necessary. “You have to head back and face her eventually. Do you know how shitty you’ll feel if she leaves for school or something and you don’t get the chance to say goodbye or clear the air? I get that you’re mad and confused. I totally understand that you’re hurting, but you guys have been in each other’s lives for too long to just let everything go without any kind of closure.”
It was my turn to lift my eyebrows in question. “Really? Because I’ve known you just as long as I’ve known Aston, and the last time we were together, you left without a word and refused to come back or even see me again. You only text back if I threaten to tell your parents you’re out of communication, and you never answer me if I call you. How come I owe Aston some kind of closure, but you don’t owe me anything?” It was one of the things that forever lived under my skin that she’d written me off so easily, regardless of all that we’d been through together, both good and bad.
A heavy silence lingered as we stared at each other without blinking. There was so much between the two of us, often there didn’t seem like there were enough words in the world to encompass it all. However, the way we looked at each other spoke volumes.
My mother once told me that someone could hide what was in their heart, but what they were really feeling was always reflected in their eyes. I wondered what Bowe saw when she looked at me, because I knew what I saw when I looked at her.
Longing.
Regret.
Confusion.
Frustration.
And not too long ago, I could’ve sworn what was there in those molten depths was love… and hate.
“You owe Aston because you love her, and she loved you. I don’t owe you anything because you and I are nothing to each other. We aren’t friends. We aren’t family. And we aren’t lovers. All we are is two people who can’t seem to escape each other because our parents keep forcing us to spend time together. It’s so annoying.” She huffed out a breath and flounced by me, but I could see that it was all bravado. My question had shaken her a little bit. “I’ll go with you, but only because I want to eat and make sure you don’t buy too much stuff. You aren’t welcome here, Ry. I’m not going to be your safe haven indefinitely.”
I watched her disappear into the bathroom, leaning back on a counter in the kitchen as I confided my whispered secret to the walls, “But you’ve always been my safe haven.”
Even if she didn’t realize it or acknowledge it, she was always the person I turned to when I needed someone to make me feel better. When I had nothing left to give, she was the one who filled my empty tank back up. Sometimes she topped it off with poison, but I’d grown accustomed to the bitter taste. It was uniquely hers and stood out from all the sweetness everyone else brought to the table.
Which is why Bowe lingered in a way no one else did.