* * * * *
How’d you like to be the lucky one? How’d you like to be the one plucked from the crowds, tossed into the life of superstars?
And then how would you like to know that isn’t real?
Malia threw down her pen and contemplated her words. Her boldly slanted script cramped across the unlined pages and she eyed the clock from the corner of her eye. 11:37 exactly. She now twenty-three minutes to haul her butt to soda serving. Time for just a few more scribbles.
Don’t get me wrong. I love being with Brian. But I’d have to be the dumbest girl on the block to believe he actually loves me or something as equally stupid. For crying out loud, he called me Leighanne!
She went back and underlined “Leighanne.”
*Earlier That Morning*
“’Bye Brian,” she whispered softly, grabbing her shoes. She bent down to give him a light kiss. He pulled her closer and deepened it. Surprised, she fell back onto her heels.
“Leighanne . . . “ he murmured. “I love you Leigh.” Her eyes widened considerably. Even being half asleep he knew what he had done. If she heard his mistake she had chosen to ignore it or act like he’d never spoken.
“See you later,” she whispered, anxious to leave. “Bye.” She bolted out the door and drove home.
* * * * *
So, Malia continued the same day. I have a choice. I can accept that Brian truly loves Leighanne and give him back to her, or I can accept that Brian loves Leighanne and let him cling to her ghost in me.
I think I'm going to go with option A. I don’t want to though. He leaves day after tomorrow; his flight’s at seven. His parents are having some sort of a small thing tomorrow, and then I can kiss him goodbye--literally.
I hope Leighanne makes the best of all this. I probably won’t even know. My gosh, I'm starting college! Like I'm really going to care what’s going on in some superstar’s life.
I'm going to care a whole damn lot.
* * * * *
Great, just great, Brian thought later that morning as he threw on some clothes after a shower. I called her Leighanne. Just great.
“Brian,” his mom called. “The phone, it’s Nick!”
He grabbed the cordless and flopped backwards onto the bed. “Hi.”
“Don’t sound so excited,” Nick laughed.
“I'm really not in the mood . . . “
“Hey, it’s just a tour. Take a deep breath and envision all those people coming to see us . . . “
“You’re not helping. And I couldn’t be less nervous about this tour if I tried.”
“Try harder then. You do not sound happy at all.”
“I'm fine. What do you want?”
“Nothing really. I'm just bored out of my skull. Aaron just threw Angel into the pool and now Leslie is chasing after him, and I'm sitting here on my butt, watching.”
Brian could envision the scene perfectly. “Nick, I get the feeling you’re about to be dragged into this.”
“No way. I don’t have a swimsuit on. And if they do anything, I’ll kill ‘em. Comes with being the oldest. Besides, I have way more strength than all of them combined. By the way, did I tell you who I saw yesterday?”
Leighanne, Brian thought. Why else would he call? “No ideas.”
“Just guess.”
“Leighanne,” he said sarcastically.
“You’re good. She asked me how you were.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told her you had a girlfriend.”
“Did you tell her who?”
“Yeah.”
“I bet she was real happy about that.”
“Actually, she was good about it. I mean, I thought she was going to start crying or something.”
“May I remind you that she was the one who ruined this relationship?”
“Whatever you say.”
“I don’t get you. First, you tell me to call Malia. I do, and we’re happy. Now, you sound ticked because I'm not with Leighanne.”
“I'm just trying to get you excited about something.”
“I’ve had a bad day, that’s all.”
“Leslie!” Nick called, looking behind him. “What time is it?” Brian smiled. He heard her yell something back. “She says it’s only 11:45. How can you be having a bad day already?”
“Stuff happens.”
“What?”
“I thought Malia was Leighanne . . . . so I called her the wrong name.”
“Great going Rok!”
“Shut up. I am really not in the mood Nick. Plus, they’re so alike; I swear it’s scary. ”
“Sure, sure. Did she say anything?”
“No. But she sure looked surprised.”
“Yeah, it would be like you calling me Howie.”
Brian laughed. “This isn’t helping at all.”
“I got you to laugh.”
“See you tomorrow. You better be ready to shake yo grove thang!”
Nick groaned. “No way. I have two left feet. Oh yeah, I'm meeting you at the airport. Look for me. ‘Bye.”
“’Bye Nick, I will.”
* * * * *
I hope he doesn’t get mad at me. Oh, sure, that was really intelligent. ‘I hope he doesn’t get mad at me.’ Let’s see, I'm breaking up with him from a distance and then expecting him to come back. But then maybe I put too much value on this relationship.
I mean, for all I know I could just be the rebound. I am the rebound in full truth. I was probably just his goodtime girl, the one he called because Leigh was gone. Maybe he just doesn’t care at all about me. Maybe he’s just bored or something. The first time he called he did ask about Leighanne and such.
Let me recap for my very mixed-up self: Brian might not care at all about this relationship, about me, and might have no feelings in this at all. Therefore, when I break up with him I may have nothing to worry about.
If that’s the way he does feel I wish I had the same view. If I have everything why am I giving it up? If I love him why am I leaving?
He’s going to kill me.
Actually, that might be a good thing.
She stopped writing for a minute. Her hand was getting cramped and she was afraid she was going to start crying again.
Well, as long as we’re on the subject of depressing news, here comes the next bombshell (stop world! I’m waving the white flag and I want off this hellish roller coaster!):
Megan is staying in Orlando for freshman year. I'm going to be alone for all this. Just great. Her parents don’t trust her; they think she’ll become a partier or something just as horrible. So we get a little tipsy sometime. Big deal. Oh well. In any event, I'm on my own. I should have just gone to Northwestern instead of staying. There isn’t a point in my staying anymore. I'm not going to keep crying over that. I don’t have the energy anymore, and besides I'm sick of crying.
Well, it’s 12:35, I'm tired, my hand hurts, and I just reread what I wrote. I sound like I'm throwing myself I pity party. No point in that. So, I'm going to bed.
Just as soon as I make sure I have that tape perfect.
* * *
The soft sounds of the piano washed over Malia’s body late that night. She’d fallen asleep on the couch with her headphones on and the CD on repeat.
And I have the sense to recognize
That I don’t know how to let you go
That I don’t know how to let you go
“Maybe you’ve got it down Sarah,” Malia muttered. “But some of us really don’t know how to let our loves go.”
* * * * *
“Would it kill you to smile?” Brian muttered softly to Malia as the two sat side-by-side at the table. Jackie’s before-tour kickoff party, as it had been dubbed, was going perfectly. Malia was amazed at the number of people who had shown up just to wish Brian well. Even Kevin and Kristen had come.
She pushed around a lettuce leaf. “I'm trying, I'm just nervous,” she whispered back.
“Why? You met my parents, they like you. You know Kevin, and Kristen’s just as nice. I'm telling you, just relax.”
She stabbed at some salad. “I am trying.” She smiled wanly.
“Aw, look, Brian’s whispering sweet nothings to Malia,” Kevin kidded from across the table. Kristen laughed and Malia blushed. Jackie and Harold were inside the house, with the rest of the ‘adult’ guests, leaving Brian, Malia, Kevin, and Kristen to themselves on the patio table.
“Leave them alone Kevin, they look so cute!” Kristen sighed, knowing full well everyone could hear. “So tell me again, how did you meet her Brian?”
“We met at As Long As You Love Me and I’ll Never Break Your Heart. Leigh invited her down.” After saying the name he tried to judge her reaction. She didn’t flinch. The topic of conversation quickly moved to the upcoming tour, and they all agreed it would earn them some well-deserved respect.
Don’t even think about it, Malia told herself. No way, nuh uh, the tape stays. You are not backing down now. No!
And she didn’t back down. Not when Brian kissed her goodbye in front of everyone, not when he called later that night just to tell her to have sweet dreams, and certainly not the next day . . .
* * * * *
“So this is it,” Brian sighed, waiting at the gate before his flight.
“This is it,” she confirmed, laying her head on his shoulder.
“When am I going to see you again?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully.
“I feel bad leaving you all alone.” He knew about Megan and the situation.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
His words hit her core, almost forcing her to take back her hateful ones. What was it you last thought at an airport? Don’t look back, wasn’t it? She forced herself to pull away and began memorizing his face. “You’re going to be late.”
“I still have fifteen minutes. Can I have a kiss?” he asked sheepishly.
“Sure,” she replied, giving him a short but sweet kiss. That’s going to have to hold you for so long, she thought, so make it good.
“I'm going to miss you.”
“So call me.” In a year, she mentally added.
“I will. But I don’t have your picture or anything.”
“Remember me for me, not my face then.” She smiled. “I'm really going to miss you, but maybe it’s for the best.”
“I see nothing good about this, but I’ll try to be positive.”
“And at best, try to get up before noon! You have fun, and I mean it. Go on, dance, sing, and watch your careers soar! I have this feeling that 1998 is going to be the year you get the popularity you’ve dreamed of.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He picked up a piece of her hair. “I better get going . . . “ He gave her a final hug and kiss goodbye. “I love you Malia Collins.”
“I love you Brian Thomas Littrell. ‘Bye!” she called as he walked backwards to the gate, trying not to cry. She watched him board, and ten minutes later she saw the last lights of the jet disappear into the fading sun.
* * *
“Please note that the captain has turned off the fasten seatbelt sign and you are now free to move around the cabin. We ask that you do remain seated with your safety belt on unless necessary . . . "
It’s the same every time, Brian thought, not just referring to the co-pilot’s speech. Love ‘em, leave ‘em heartbroken. What a life I’ve got. He began rummaging through his carry on bag, desperate for something to do. Malia had given him one of her novels but reading had never been his thing. It required too much concentration. He continued digging, looking for his Walkman and Brian McKnight tape.
He eventually pulled out the player and a cassette, but not the intended one. “To Brian,” he read out loud softly. “What the heck?” He flipped it over. “Letter, Part Two, and Butterfly,” Malia’s scrawl informed. He shrugged to himself and popped it in before he would have to turn off electronic devices for landing.
Hello Brian, her soft voice began.
Well, if you’ve found this then I guess you know it’s over . . .
| Chapter Fourteen |