Page 33 of Hard Count (Newhouse University #4)

DREW

NASH:

Happy birthday little fox.

Wish I could be there to celebrate and spend the day with you.

I’ll be home later tonight if you want to wait for me in my bed.

Wear your birthday suit.

Laughing at his texts, I let myself into my dad’s house.

I wish Nash could be here too. I’ve never had big birthday celebrations.

When I was younger, I had parties but they always ended up with my parents arguing.

They were never about making me feel special or celebrated. Eventually I stopped asking for them.

A night alone with Nash, however, would be perfect.

ME:

That sounds like a gift for you.

NASH:

Consider it a party favor.

ME:

I’ll think about it.

NASH:

While you’re naked in my bed.

I grin when an idea hits me. I don’t know what it is about Nash that makes me feel bold and a little wild. He makes me want to test all the limits I've set for myself. Or maybe, I don’t have a need for any boundaries with him. I can just be free. I can be me .

Rushing up to my room, I strip off my shirt and unhook my bra. I take my hair down and arrange it over my breasts where I’m mostly covered up. I push my boobs together with one arm and hold my camera at a distance with the other.

ME:

Like this? Or…

I jump off the bed and race to my closet. I should have grabbed this before I sent over the first photo. Flipping through the hangers, I finally find what I want in the very back. Oh god, I can’t believe I’m going to show him this .

I slip Nash’s high school jersey over my head and take off my shorts. This time I take the photo with my eyes closed like I’m asleep.

ME:

This.

NASH:

Where’d you get that? Where are you?

ME:

My dad’s house. I’ve had it since high school. I told you you’re my number one.

I run my hand over the number one on his jersey.

I wouldn’t say I had a crush on Nash in high school.

I spent so much of my time studying him, I became a little infatuated.

I definitely thought he was good looking but he had a girlfriend back then.

There was no reason to get my hopes up and think he would ever want to be with me.

NASH:

Baby

Dots appear and disappear on the screen.

NASH:

Just bring that back to campus with you. Okay?

ME:

Sure. I can do that.

I flip through more of my old clothes from high school to see if there’s anything else that I want. I didn’t keep much here since I spent most of my time at my mom’s place. It's mostly old tees and a few dresses.

It looks like he’s started using my closet for storage. There are a bunch of boxes on the top shelf I don’t recognize. I reach for one of the shoe box size containers and slide it off the shelf. It’s not like he’s here to catch me snooping. It’s in my room anyway.

Exhaling a deep breath, I flip the lid. Huh, it’s envelopes. I laugh at myself. Here I was thinking it was going to be something scary. I lift the folded piece of paper on top and open it. Immediately I recognize the handwriting as my moms.

‘Nice try Gavin. XOXO Laura’

Why would she be giving my dad a bunch of letters? I yank out one of the envelopes. It’s addressed to me and dated six years ago. It’s sealed and with no return to sender stamped on the front. Quickly, I flip through the postmarks. There are at least fifty letters that span over two years.

Rushing back to my closet, I pull down another box. Same thing but from four years ago. One, two, three, four, five, six boxes. Are they all letters? I grab them all and spread them out over my bed. “There’s so many,” I say, not recognizing my own voice.

My hand shakes as I pull a random letter from the box. I slip my fingernail into the tiny opening at the corner and rip the envelope open. One page of lined notebook paper with simple handwriting is all that’s inside.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I begin to read.

Dear Drew ,

Today is your first day of high school. I’ve spent most of the afternoon staring at the photo I have of you in my office.

It’s from your first day of kindergarten and one of my favorite memories I have of you.

I was scared out of my mind sending you off to school for the first time.

You were so little. In my eyes at least.

But you were also brave and strong. You were so excited to try something new. You’ve always been fearless like that. As I fought my instincts to football carry you out of there, you sat at your desk and started your work. I snapped the photo to show your mom.

Before I left you said “Don’t worry, Daddy, I’ll be back home in no time and it’ll be like I never left.”

I keep your photo on my desk not because you’re my daughter and I love you but as a reminder to be brave and strong like you when I have to do something new or hard.

I hope you have a good first day. Give me a call if you want to tell me about it.

Love always,

Dad

I crush the letter in my hand and wipe the tears rolling down my cheeks.

I don’t understand. Why didn’t my mom give these to me?

She had no right to keep them from me all these years.

I open another letter and it’s similar to the first except he’s telling me about his day and asking me for advice on how to handle Georgia’s offense in an upcoming game.

It feels like someone has tied an anchor to my foot and thrown me overboard into the ocean. I’m struggling for air and my limbs are too weak to bring me back to shore as memories from my past keep pushing me back underwater.

Flipping the lid on the last box, thinking it might be the most current, I pull out a letter at random. There’s no postmark on this one. I file through every letter and realize none of these were mailed. He kept writing? Even after she sent them back, he kept going.

This letter is dated last fall.

Dear Drew,

I’m writing another letter I don’t plan on mailing.

When Laura brought me the box of unopened letters, I thought about stopping my correspondence to you but I couldn’t.

Writing to you makes me feel like you’re a part of my life.

That you're here with me same as before.

I can pretend like things never changed.

I wanted you to be the first to know that I’m starting Nash Pierce. He probably should have started his first day Freshman year but I wanted more time to work with him. You were right. He’s a natural. He has what it takes. You’ve always been able to see the best in people.

I can only hope you’ll do the same for me if I get the chance.

Love always,

Dad

I grab the box and sit on the floor with it.

Letter by letter, I read them all. Then I read them a second time until there are so many tears it becomes impossible to see the words anymore.

What should I do? I don’t know how to process this information.

He’s been writing me letters since their divorce.

Do I just ask him why? Would he give me the truth ?

I have so many questions. The letters show that he tried.

Why didn’t he do more? Why didn’t he come see me?

Why didn’t he try harder? Because football always came first. My mom’s words filter into my head.

She’s the one who said my dad didn’t want me.

That he didn’t have time for a daughter. That I wasn’t his priority.

Was any of that true?

These letters make me question everything.

I push all the opened envelopes and letters around my bed until I unearth my phone and hit call on her contact.

I haven’t talked to my mom since I moved in July.

She’ll text occasionally but it’s never her checking in with me.

She’s either fishing for information about Dad or talking nonsense about herself.

It's becoming more and more obvious she couldn’t care less about me.

“Hello,” she says in an irritated tone.

“Hi, Mom,” I say, then put her on speakerphone.

“Hi, honey.” No happy birthday. Not that I expected her to say something or even remember. She was never the bake me a cake kind of mom. Anything she did was to put on a show for her friends and keep up appearances. “How’s everything going with your dad?”

“Great,” I reply with more enthusiasm than I feel. "We're having the best time. Just like we used to."

“That’s good to hear. You know you can come home at any time. You don’t have to stay where we were never wanted.”

“You. Where you were never wanted. ”

“What? What are you talking about? Why would you say something so mean to me?”

“Is it mean if it’s the truth? I found his letters, Mom.” I snatch one of them off the floor. “ Dear Drew. I have a feeling you aren’t getting my letters. I’ve sent several with no reply but I made you a pinky promise and I intend to keep it. I wish you were here. I sure do miss my little girl. ”

A sharp pain slices through my heart as I think back to one of the last memories I had with my dad right before their divorce was finalized and we were moving out. I didn’t want to live with my mom in a crummy apartment. I wanted to stay with him in this house.

“What if we write letters?”

“Like pen pals?” I asked. He nodded.

“You promise?”

He didn’t hesitate to make that pinky promise.

He was giving me something to look forward to.

It was a way for us to stay connected and she took that away from me.

She stole something from me that I'll never be able to get back.

I swallow down a sob. I won't let her know how hurt I am by her actions. Not that she would care anyway.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Dad wrote me letters. Hundreds of them and you kept them from me. I knew you were selfish but to hide this from me for all these years is low even for you. Why would you do that? He didn’t want you and you made me believe he didn’t want me either. ”

“He didn’t,” she screams. “He gave you up too. He didn’t pick us. He picked football. He always did.”

“You’re lying.”

She laughs. “You’ve only been there a few months and he’s already turned you against me. I knew this would happen. This is exactly why I didn’t give you the letters. Anyone can write poetic things. He’s manipulating you. I wasn’t going to let him.”

“Stop. Just stop,” I cry. “You’re the one who’s manipulating me. You have been for years. I haven’t turned against you. You’ve put me against you. You’ve put me against him. I’m stuck in the middle of all of this. It isn’t fair. I don’t deserve any of this.”

“I’m sure that’s how you see it but that’s not what happened.”

“Your lies won't work on me anymore. That’s exactly what happened.”

She sighs. “There was no middle to be in when he decided he didn’t want to be involved. It’s all in the divorce papers.”

“What are you talking about, Mom?”

I leave the mess in my room and run downstairs to my dad’s office. He has to have a copy of the papers filed away somewhere in here. I open up the filing cabinet and start flipping through and scanning the folders. Nothing. Damnit . I go to the next drawer.

“He wanted to keep the house and I got to keep you,” she says with slight irritation .

“Is that not what you wanted?” I stare at my phone waiting for her response.

“Nothing about my life is how I wanted it to be. Do you think I wanted my marriage to fall apart?”

“What about me? Did you want me?” I hate that I want her to say yes. I want her to say that she would have given up everything if it meant she got to keep me. I want her to say she loves me and she’s grateful she has me as her daughter but the words never come.

A man yells for her in the background startling me and bringing me back to reality. There's always going to be a man pulling her away from me. “Look, I need to go. I’m sorry. I should have thrown the letters away,” she mutters.

“No, you should have given them to me. They were mine. I should have been reading them and writing my dad back. I should’ve had a relationship with him instead of feeling like I wasn’t enough.

You know what? I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long to finally stand up for myself and say I’ve had enough. I’m done.”

“You always were impossible to make happy. Even as a baby you cried all the time. I tried the best I could with you.” She sighs.

“The best you could." I scoff. "I’m surprised you even noticed I was there. You were always busy worrying about yourself. You barely had time for me. You don’t have to concern yourself with me anymore. I won’t be coming back to Florida. I’m staying here.”

“Don’t come crying to me when he pushes you away again. ”

“I won’t,” I snap. I don't know what's going to happen with me and my dad now but I won't be going back to my mom. Not after this.

“What do you want me to do with your stuff you have stored at my place?”

My hand clenches around my phone. “I have everything I need here.” I think of Nash and all he provides for me. His love and friendship is more than I could ever want or ask for. It's more than I've ever been given by anyone. “You can donate it or sell it for all I care.”

“If that’s what you want,” she says, with a hint of surprise.

“It is. Goodbye, Mom.” I hang up the phone.

I have nothing else to say to her. At this point, I don’t care if I ever talk to her again.

I rub my eyes and take a calming breath.

I didn’t expect to find all of this when I came over here.

I wanted to have a moment in the house I grew up in on my birthday.

Once again my mom ruins everything.

I close the file cabinet drawer, but stop at the last minute when something catches my eye. A manilla folder with divorce written on the tab. Do I want to look? I need answers. I won't be able to stop thinking about it if I don’t.

Hesitantly, I pull the file out of the drawer and take a seat at my dad’s desk.

I scan the documents until I find anything that can tell me who asked for what and who really wanted me.

It looks like my dad is the plaintiff. He filed for divorce.

He wanted to leave her. I don’t blame him now that I see what she’s really like.

I keep reading and scanning the papers. My breath catches and tears prickle my eyes. He asked for the house…and for me. He wanted full custody.

What happened? How did I end up with her? I don’t understand. Now I have more questions than when I started.

My phone dings with a text. I hope it’s Nash. Maybe he got home early. I need him.

FRANKIE:

Do you want to meet me at The Armory for a little birthday celebration?

They have karaoke too.

ME:

I don’t know if I’m up for it tonight.

FRANKIE:

It’s your birthday! I’m sure you would prefer to be with Nash but they won’t be back for hours.

I want to celebrate with you too.

ME:

Fine, okay. Give me ten minutes.

I want Nash but forgetting about everything with Frankie sounds like a good idea right now. If anyone can distract me from reality, it's her.