Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys 4) - Page 8

At the end of the day… I needed to make myself happy. Life was too short, you only lived once, and all that other bullshit.

I wanted to make the best of it.

I grabbed the letter off my desk along with my art portfolio. No one knew about my talent, except Alex. I wanted to keep it to myself, and maybe that was my first mistake. For the first time in my life, I had to show everyone who I was, and I was scared shitless. I would start with my parents, they loved me and I knew that. I just hoped they loved me enough to let me come into my own.

If I wanted them to accept me for who I was or who I wanted to be, I guess I should start by giving them a chance.

“Austin, there you are, honey, I was about to call you down. Dinner’s almost ready. Will you help me set the table?”

I nodded, placing the letter and portfolio on my chair. We sat down shortly after for dinner, and I waited until my dad asked me his usual dinnertime questions.

“How was school?”

“Fine.”

“Have you heard back on any more colleges?”

“Honey, I thought we decided he was going to go to Ohio State with the boys?” My mama interjected. “It’s a great school, and he wants to be with his friends. I think it’d be good if they all stayed together. You know Austin has always needed a leader.”

My eyes widened, but I quickly recovered, glancing over at my thirteen-year-old brother, Hunter. He shook his head, just as shocked as I was.

“Darla, it would be good for the boy to broaden his horizons. He can’t always be following around the boys. He’s never going to come out of their shadows.”

“I know, honey, but he needs them. He’s always needed them. They will look out for him. They always have.”

I scoffed, “You guys do realize I’m sitting right here, right?” They always did this, talking about me like I wasn’t in the damn room. “Can’t you wait until I at least leave the room to point out more things I can’t do?”

“Austin,” Mom coaxed. “We don’t mean it like that. You’re the baby of the group. The boys have always been… well you know, honey. More mature and stuff. It’s normal for us to worry.”

I scoffed, “Mature? Are you for real?”

“Austin, watch your tone,” Dad ordered.

I would never rat out my boys, but fuck… if my parents only knew.

“I’m sorry.”

Mom smiled and Dad shook his head. Now was as good a time as any.

“About college,” I said, wiping my mouth with my napkin, bringing their attention back to me. “I got accepted into another school. One that I really want to attend.”

They beamed. I’d never said I wanted to go to any college before.

“It’s in New York—”

“We didn’t know you applied to NYU. That’s an amazing university. I’m so proud of you, Austin!” she rambled on.

“Brooklyn, New York,” I clarified. “It’s Pratt Institute, School of Art and Design.”

They both jerked back, confused.

“It’s actually the number one art school in all of the country, and I honestly don’t know how I got accepted but,” I set the letter in front of them and finished, “I did.”

My dad picked up the letter off the table and read it over, with Mom hovering over his shoulder to read too. Both of their faces void of any emotion.

I waited.

“Art school, Austin? Where is this coming from? You’ve never showed any interest in arts,” she stated, smiling, holding back a laugh.

“Actually, I have.” I sat up in my seat, grabbing my portfolio that was sitting beside me.

My heart was pounding and my palms were getting sweaty. I swallowed the lump in my throat and pulled back the cover, showing them the first few sketches. Their faces were the blank canvas I was used to drawing on. They took in the sketches that had bled out through my hands.

But I still couldn’t read them at all. My mom grabbed the notebook from my trembling hands and continued turning pages, one after the other. Running her fingers over the illustrations. Realizing what I had kept from them.

“I’ve been drawing since I could hold a pencil, Mom,” I added, trying to gain a response. “My art teachers wrote my letters of recommendation. I actually think they were the reasons I got in. They’ve been telling me I have a God given talent since elementary school—”

“They never told us,” Mom interrupted, taken aback.

I shrugged. I wanted to say it was because they never bothered to go into their rooms during parent night. That they always said electives didn’t matter, but I bit my tongue. It wouldn’t help my case. Mom flipped page, after page, after page until she was almost to the end.

Nothing.

“I have some more sketches up in my room. I’ll go—”

“No,” Dad snapped, locking eyes with me.

“I’ll just be a minute—”

“I don’t need to see anymore of this garbage, Austin. Is this why you’re an average student?”

He pulled my portfolio out of my mom’s hands, throwing it in the middle of the table. It rattled the dishes.

“Dad, it’s not—”

He put his finger up in the air, silencing me. I swallowed hard.

“Money on tutors, money on after-school help, afterschool SAT practice courses, do you want me to go on? We have spent thousands of dollars to get you the best education, and this is why you’re always struggling? Because you spend more time on a hobby? You wasted all this time with your head up in the goddamn clouds, when it should have been focused on your homework?”

“Joseph…”

He put his hand out in front of my mother, silencing her as well.

“This is an out-of-state private school, Austin. You think we’re going to pay for that?”

“I don’t know, Dad. You were going to pay for the other ten out-of-state private schools you made me apply to.”

He leaned back into his chair, shaking his head. “Yes. For an education. For a profession. For your future.”

“This is my future. This is what I want to do with my life,” I argued through gritted teeth, anger began to take over me.

“To become what, Austin? A starving artist? Who will always depend on us to pay his bills? What will you do in your long-term future, Austin? Do you think an arts degree will help you raise a family one day?”

“Dad, that’s—”

“Hunter, go to your room,” he ordered, not letting my brother finish. “The last thing I want is your brother rubbing off on you.”

“Dad—”

“Hunter, just go!” I broke in, giving him a sympathetic stare.

He left.

“Austin.”

I glanced back at my dad.

“We’re not paying for this. Do you understand me? You’re not going to Pratt, end of story. I realize now that you don’t even want to bother with college, so I won’t force you to go to an Ivy League school. It would be a waste of your time and my money, but so help me God, you will go to Ohio State and get some kind of a degree that will earn you a living. If you choose Pratt, you will have to carry your own weight.”

They were killing my soul, crushing my dreams without even batting an eye about it. I immediately resented them for trying to mold me into their liking, not mine.

“How am I supposed to pay my way? I can’t even apply for financial aid. You don’t think I’ve looked into it? You guys make too much money. You’re literally my last resort. Why can’t you use my college fund for Pratt? I will even get a job and rent an apartment on my own. I’ll take care of all my own expenses. All I ask is for you to pay for my school. Please… I’ve never asked for anything. This is important to me. This is what I want for my future.”

“This conversation ends now, Austin. I’ve said my piece. End of story.”

They weren’t taking this away from me. Not now. Not ever. I had never disrespected my parents; I was raised better than that… but in that moment, in that second…

They weren’t acting like my parents.

They were complete fucking strangers.

“And here I thought you would actually be happy and excited for me,” I mocked.

He shook his head, disappointed. “Happy and excited for you? To see you want to throw away your life? On a hopeful dream that won’t get you anywhere but asking for spare change on the side of the road? Unbelievable. How about you show your mother and I some respect? For everything we’ve done for you.”

“I didn’t know that respect was earned off my major, old man. That’s a lot to ask of a college. Don’t you think?”

“Austin…” Mom warned.

I laughed, “I’m sorry. I forgot. I still live under your roof. I follow your rules or else. You remind me daily. I should have it memorized by now.”

He instantly stood and was over to me in two strides. Right in my face, grabbing my t-shirt in his fist.

“Listen to me. If it weren’t for your mother, I would cut you off the second you graduate from high school. But I’m giving you a chance to straighten out, even though all you do is cause trouble. Whether at school, with your teachers or classmates, or all the girls you hang around with. We give you everything. Everything and you shit all over it. I’m surprised you haven’t knocked someone up yet.”

I snidely smiled. “Well, you did one thing right by me. You taught me that I should always wrap it up. Congratulations, I know how to put on a condom.”

He didn’t falter. “You make it hard to want you as my son,” he viciously spewed, instantly regretting his words.

My mama’s jaw dropped, surprised by his outburst. I would be lying if I said it didn’t shock me too. He just confirmed what I always knew. I was a fuck up in their eyes. Not worthy enough to be their son. All I ever wanted was for them to accept me for who I was and welcome me with open arms.

And this was exactly why I spent my life hiding behind my secrets. I knew… I knew they wouldn’t accept me. Except, I never thought it would hurt this goddamn much for them to confirm what I already knew in my heart.

“Wow…” I stepped back out of his grasp. Hands surrendered, head shaking.

I could see it in his eyes. He wanted to apologize, take back his hateful words. But that wasn’t my father. He remained the solid man he always was. Breathing heavy with flared nostrils and a look of pity on his face.

I backed away from the situation before I really said something I regretted.

“Run along, son. Which one of your girls or parties am I paying for tonight? Huh?” he yelled as I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

I walked around aimlessly for a while until I remembered the boys were in town for the weekend, and I knew just where to find them.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?" Dylan asked, as I walked up to him and the rest of the boys on the beach. "You look like someone just took a shit in your cereal."

I handed him the letter, too pissed off to explain. If anyone could understand, it would be the boys. Dylan lowered his eyebrows, taking it out of my hand. Jacob and Lucas hovered around him to read it too. I stood there drawing circles in the sand with my foot, glancing up at their expressions.

Wondering which way this would go.

“Art school?” Jacob questioned, looking back up at me. “When the fuck did you learn how to draw?”

“Doesn’t fucking matter. My parents won’t pay for it. Looks like I’m going to Ohio State with you guys.”

“Austin, come on, man… do you honestly want to go to art school? Or is this you just trying to rebel over something else?” Lucas chimed in.

“Art school sounds like a whole bunch of pussies, drawing out their feelings and shit. That’s not you. Besides, what the fuck are you going to do with an art degree?” Dylan added.

“What the hell do you know about art school? Have you been there?” I snapped.

They laughed.

They fucking laughed.

“This is a joke right? You’re fucking with us?” Jacob chuckled. “We all know you want to come to Ohio State, Austin. We’re there. You’ve been following us around since you could walk.”

I jerked back like he had hit me. “Wow…”

They faltered, their expressions quickly changing to something I couldn’t quite place.

“Is that right? I’ve been following you around. Good to know.”

“He’s just fuckin’ around. Why you being such a pussy? You bleedin’ out now?” Dylan laughed some more. “Don’t go turning into a bitch on us, now that we’re not around to man you up.”

I couldn’t believe this. I go to my boys. My brothers. My best friends for some goddamn support and they proceed to add to my parents’ theory, pointing out everything I have ever felt.

Every last one of them.

Tearing into my insecurities. I wasn’t expecting that.

Not. Ever. That.

“Fuck you! Fuck all of you!” I roared, turning around to leave. "All of you can go fuck yourselves. Thanks for the support, bros."

“Austin! Stop being such a bitch! We were fuckin’ with you!” Dylan called out behind me.

I didn’t bother to look back.

It was pointless.

The damage was done.

Before I knew it, I was sitting on the dock, feet dangling in the warm water. Looking off in the distance, reflecting on the day's turn of events. Wishing that I had my notebook to take out my frustration on a blank sheet of paper. Getting lost in the world of my illusions, creations, and art. But all I could do was sit there and dwell on what had just happened.

With my parents.

With my friends.

I was alone.

I hated myself for letting down my guard, allowing them to see my truths I hid so well for so many years. That became second nature.

I wanted to hit something.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to run away.

I wanted to make this fucking feeling go away. I'd give anything to bring back my not giving a fuck attitude that I had gotten so used to. Seeking comfort in myself.

All I ever had was that.

I owned it.

Now that was torn away from me.

I stood, pacing the dock, running my fingers roughly through my hair. My anger and nerves set on fire. My body scorching hot, my adrenaline pumping so hard that all I could see was red, and all I could feel was blue. I wanted to claw out my skin for being so fucking stupid.

I paced around the dock, desperately trying to work off this emotional bullshit. When I heard footsteps coming toward me, I didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

Alex.

Half-Pint.

Her…

She was always there for me. Always knew when I needed her. The one person that I could count on, the one person that loved me wholeheartedly.

No matter what.

I peered up and there she was. Wearing a white dress, looking like an angel, so genuine and pure. The Heaven to my Hell, or so I thought. Her hair cascaded down her face, her back, her breasts.

I wanted to get lost in her…

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, taking in the desperation playing out in front of her.

My yearning for someone I shouldn’t be thinking about. Someone that wasn’t mine and never would be.

“How the fuck do you always know when I need you, Alex?”

She smiled and her entire face lit up. “It’s because I love you.”

I threw caution to the wind and cupped the sides of her face. Her eyes widened before I pulled her toward me, not giving it a second thought.

I kissed her.

For a second, my lips touched hers. For a moment, I felt the pain go away. Reality disappeared that instant. It didn’t last long and a part of me knew it wasn’t going to.

Her hands pressed against my chest, shoving me away, making me stumble backwards on the dock. Feeling the loss of her warmth immediately.

“Austin!” she shrieked out, ba

cking away from me with a look of disappointment on her face. “What are you doing?”

“Fuck!” I called out. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Alex. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She shook her head side-to-side, lost in her own thoughts. Not knowing how to reply. Not knowing what to do or how to move forward.

“Austin,” she barely whispered.

“I know, Alex… you don’t have to say it,” I managed to respond.

We stood there for I don’t know how long, staring aimlessly at each other. And then… she just turned around and left. Walked away from me without another word.

I bowed my head.

Feeling lost. I knew she wouldn’t tell anyone. She would take this to her grave, as would I. She wouldn’t break the bond between the boys and I.

But that didn’t mean.

I didn’t just break the bond between her and me.

Briggs

“Daisy.”

I heard someone whisper in my sleep. I rolled over toward the voice.

“Hmm…” I groggily opened my eyes, wiping sleep from my face. “Esteban?” I muttered, blinking away the darkness and looking around confused.

“Everything okay?” I immediately asked, taken aback. He’d never been in my room before.

“You need to get up and come with me,” was all he said before he started making his way out of my room.

I scratched my head, not understanding what was going on. I pushed off my covers, swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and stood stretching. Making my way into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I tied my hair back in a ponytail as I walked out of the bathroom to find Esteban leaning against my door. He didn’t say a word. He just stared out in front of him like he was lost in his own thoughts. His composure read of a man on his way to his execution. A man I’d never met before.

And that scared me more than anything.

“Is everything—”

“Come on,” he interrupted, pushing off the door and walking away.

I followed behind him, trying to keep up with his pace. The sound coming off his black dress shoes echoed through the dark, narrow hallways, mimicking the pounding of my heart and the ringing in my ears. The silence was deafening all around us. I never realized how quiet the penthouse was at night. Our shadows simply heightened the darkness lurking in the corners. It didn’t even seem like it was that late.


Tags: M. Robinson The Good Ol' Boys Romance
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