Page 16 of Forever My Boy

He didn’t give me a chance to care. Or did he?

“There’s more to life than football, Jojo.”

He quit football to become a musician and didn’t even give me chance to be with him.

Why?

Because when he came to tell you, all you wanted to do was call his coach.

I don’t know whether to cry or scream right now, but I do know, I can’t compete. The guy on this flyer, looking moody and smoking hot, isn’t the guy who I fell in love with. Who loved me back.

He’s not my Liam.

Now that I’ve seen the flyer, the tears are back. It’s not that they ever leave, but sometimes they subside long enough for me to function as humanely as possible. I pack my things, fold the flyer and stick it into the pocket of my bag, and leave. On my way out, I pass the job board and take a few notices with me. I’m going to need a job. I don’t care if I have to serve coffee for the next four years, I need something that’s going to help support my child.

On my way back to my dorm, I manage to avoid every other student trying to hand me a flyer for the listening party. I can’t stop the thoughts, the memories. They’re all there whether I want them to be or not.

So is his face.

And his name.

As fast as my body allows, I make my way to the third floor. Thankfully, it’s only Katelyn in there, which is rare these days. She eyes me, and before I can tell her about the flyer, the door bursts open and Mason’s standing there, chest heaving.

“Have you heard from Liam?” he asks me in an accusatory tone. As if I’d hide the fact that Liam called.

“You know I haven’t.” I sit down and he hands me the same flyer folded in my backpack. I act shocked because it’s easier than explaining I found out a half hour prior and didn’t run and tell them. Sometimes, I need to digest news on my own.

“What’s this?” Katelyn asks as she takes the flyer from me.

“One of those radio kids handed it to me, and then someone said she’s heard his song, and it’s amazing,” Mason says as he shakes his head. “This is some guy using Liam’s likeness, right? Our Liam doesn’t sing.”

Except he does.

I lean forward and cover my face with my hands. Doing everything I can to keep the tears at bay, but it’s useless. I sit up and push my hair from my face. “I think it’s him.”

“Why would you think that?” Mason asks, confusion written all over his face. He didn’t know Liam either. None of us truly did.

“Don’t snap at her, Mason,” Katelyn says, even though I didn’t take his question that way.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Josie, sweetie. Do you know something?” Katelyn uses her mom tone. It’s something she’s developed over the past handful of months.

“I don’t know,” I say as I stand and pace. I look at the flyer and while I know it’smyLiam, I don’t understand any of it. When I start to cry, they both come toward me. I hold my hands up. “I’m okay.”

Taking a deep breath, I tell them what I know. “Liam had a guitar in his room, and on the rare occasion I was there, he’d play it for a minute or two. The day he left for Texas, we were sitting in his truck, listening to one of the mix tapes he made, and a song came on. It was something I hadn’t heard before, and I really liked it.” Like really liked it.

“I asked who it was by, and he said it was his, that he wrote it and was the one singing. I sat there trying to process the words, Liam, and everything going on around us.” I shake my head. “I never told him that I liked the song or that I thought his voice was beautiful. I told him he was going to move mountains in Texas, and he said, ‘there’s more to life than football, JoJo.’”

Again, I look at the flyer and my heart breaks. Not only for myself, but for Liam and our unborn child. How much of this could’ve been avoided if I had listened? Truly listened to him?

“I guess that was his way of telling me he wasn’t happy.” A sob escapes and I cover my mouth. Katelyn rushes to me and wraps me in her embrace.

“I should’ve listened to him,” I cry into her shoulder. “I should’ve been prouder and told him how he could do anything he put his mind to. If I had, we’d be together right now.” I firmly believe this. I rest my hand on my growing belly and feel my child kick. “He’d know about his child.”

“He never told me,” Mason says quietly.

“He didn’t tell any of us,” Katelyn says. “I would’ve listened.”