Impossibly Forever: Two Books in One (Impossibly Duology) (4 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Moya

  
Bright and early Saturday morning, Vanessa and I went jogging around the scenic
Fuller Park in our home town of Berlin Heights. She phoned me the night before
saying she was sorry I drove home by myself, but that she really wanted to
spend a little time with Calvin. That was understandable, since he was getting
super busy with Basketball.

  
The run couldn’t clear my head though. No matter how bright and lovely the
morning was, or how refreshing the atmosphere, I was still thinking about my
run-in with Branden the night before.

  
While Vanessa probed about Tobias and the party, I fumed over Branden’s
behavior. “I can’t believe he was fooling around.”

  
Fighting for air, she slowed me down and asked, “Who was fooling around?”

  
Sweat dripped from her braids as she drooped over and drank water.

  
I sucked in air as I answered, “Branden.”

  
Vanessa gave me a dubious look. “Um, this is about Tobias and the way you shot
him down last night and left the party. He said you were angry with him for no
reason.” Yeah, right, no reason my ass. I guess he failed to mention calling me
a lesbian.

  
I waved her off as I tightened the lid on my water bottle. “Whatever, I told
him I’m not looking to start anything, so emphasize that the next time you see
him.”

  
I began jogging again, picking up the pace when Vanessa tried to catch up with
me.

  
“Hey,” she called out. “No fair.”

  
I laughed. “Keep up and stop dragging ass!”

  
Running all the way back to where we started, I finally slowed down and waited
for Vanessa. We both hunched over again, panting.

  
“You’re…just…scared…” she gasped between words, struggling to breathe normally.
“Love…is…a beautiful…thing…”

  
“I doubt love is what Tobias wants to give me,” I mocked. “Besides, I’m a
lesbian. So why is he still pursuing me?”

  
Vanessa laughed, bumping my arm limply. “He called you that? No wonder he was
worried he turned you off completely.”

  
She finally retrieved the strength to stand up straight. “What about Branden
then?”

  
I coughed as too much water rushed down my throat. “What about him?” I feigned
innocence.

  
Vanessa gripped my elbow, heaving me down the sidewalk in the direction of our
homes. “Don’t give me that. Branden is obviously into you, so, why not him if
not Tobias?”

  
“Um, hello, did you not hear what I just said? I’m not looking for anything
from anyone. Besides, he proved to be like all the rest when he pretended to
feel sick and tried to lure me back to his room last night.”

  
We stopped at the pedestrian crossing, waiting for the walk signal. Vanessa
continued, “Did he invite you in?”

  
“No, I didn’t give him the chance to—”

  
“Are you sure he was faking then?” she asked as the lights changed and we
crossed the street.

  
Exasperated, I said, “He had a cunning grin on his face after I unlocked the
door for him. That gave him away.”

  
Vanessa stopped walking and threw her hands up in the air. “That could mean
anything, Moya.”

  
 “Like what?” I asked, thinking there was no other explanation for Branden
smiling that way after putting on a show. I still wanted to hear her out,
though.

  
We turned on the street that led to my house and Vanessa brought me to a stop.
“Like, I don’t know, maybe he was really feeling sick. And, he probably was
stunned to see you being so nice.” She laughed. “Not everyone is used to that.”

  
I shoved her lightly. “Whatever. Are you having dinner with us tonight?”

  
She cocked her head. “Don’t change the subject. Girl, I don’t want to sound
like a broken record, but I seriously think you should stop treating the male
species like they’re the enemy.”

  
I sighed, wiped beams of sweat from my nose, and considered what she’d just
said. “Okay, so are you saying I should jump on every one every guy who
approaches me?”

  
Vanessa laughed, “No, girl. I’m saying just one, give one a chance. You never
know.”

  
I rubbed my forehead and muttered, “Maybe.”

  
A satisfied smile appeared on her face. For now, Vanessa was willing to accept
at least a ‘maybe.’

  
“Anyway, are you having dinner with us later?” I asked again.

  
She nodded. “Sure. See you later.” Vanessa waved as she turned the corner and
headed for her house.

  
I could smell Momma’s blueberry pancakes from the sidewalk as I hurried up the
walkway to our brick home. I took my time opening the front door, tiptoeing
across the foyer into the kitchen to sneak up on her. She loved a good laugh,
and I enjoyed messing with her.

  
Drawing closer to her back as she stood at the stove, I was convinced I had
her. But then she chuckled as I approached. “I can hear you breathing, Moya.”

  
I slouched in disappointment. I’d never been able to really catch her
off-guard.

  
Hugging her from behind, I gave Momma a peck on the cheek. “Mmm…smells good.”

  
“Indeed. Now get your sweaty behind off me.”

  
Momma filled two plates with scrambled eggs and I helped by bringing over the
blueberry pancakes and syrup to our little, oval chestnut breakfast table.

  
Settling down, I admired all she’d done. “Oh, Momma, thank you. You didn’t have
to rush to do this before going to work. I could’ve fixed something to eat
later.”

  
She kissed me on the forehead then sat in the chair beside me. “Now you stop. I
only get to see my baby on weekends now so of course I’m gonna feed you good.
Lord knows what you’re eating so far away.”

  
I sniffed. “Jeez, Momma, I’m not that far away. I’m still in Maryland, just not
in Baltimore. Harrington is less than an hour’s drive from Berlin Heights. I
didn’t go too far.”

  
She bit down on her blueberry pancake and rolled her eyes. “You make it sound
like I forced you to go. Remember, you got a good scholarship that covers
everything. Besides, it’s important that you experience life away from home to
get the hang of it. That’s what my parents taught me. I was on my own at
seventeen, two years younger than you are now.”

  
Momma stopped eating. She rested her fingers on her fork, nails tapping an
absent rhythm against the stem. Her dark eyes clouded, only to stare in the
distance as though she were caught in the grips of some memory. “Can’t believe
how strong I was then,” she muttered, her voice was so soft it surprised me.

  
The moment passed by, but it left its mark in the form of a small, secretive
smile that teased the corners of her lips. She picked her fork up, shaking it
at me before using it to spear another pancake. “You’re lucky, you know.”

  
“Yep, I know, because you always remind me,” I teased.

  
She pointed her fork at me. “Watch it,” Then went back to eating. “How’s your
second year going so far?”

  
“So far, so good,” I sang.

  
She gazed up from her plate. “Hmm hmm…I saw a Mrs. Watson the other day at
work. In fact, I think that woman showed up at Thompson’s on purpose to
complain to me. She said you were supposed to have dinner with her son on
Tuesday night and you didn’t show up. Who’s this Tobias and how come I’ve never
heard about him before? Did he go to Berlin Heights High School?”

  
Her questions were spilling over like a waterfall. I felt dazed. “Momma, it
doesn’t matter who he is because I’m not interested in him. I don’t know why he
had his mommy seek you out, either. That’s ridiculous.”

  
She sighed and wrinkled her forehead. “Moya, I worry about you sometimes. Your
dad—”

  
“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine,” I assured her. “It’s almost 9
o’clock. You have to get to work, don’t you?”

  
She shot up from the chair and took the red satin hair wrap off her head.
Momma’s curls fell off her shoulders as she bent over to hug me. They were much
longer than mine.

  
I felt the usual warmth of her embrace as she tightened her arms around my
body. “All right, I see you’re trying to dodge the topic by chasing me off.
Love you, baby. See you later.”

  
“See ya Momma. Love you too.” I replied with my mouth stuffed with pancakes.

  
My eyes followed her as she grabbed her keys off the kitchen counter and
hurried out the front door.

  
Momma was like Vanessa, always bugging me to give someone a chance. Their
constant pushing had me fed up to the point where I actually considered my
attitude towards guys.

  
Truth be told, it wasn’t my intention to come off livid to every guy I met. I
was only guarding myself from obvious heartache. Still, it never bothered me as
much before when others called me cold. But why did it hit me differently when
Branden said it?

  
“No.” I shook my head, talking to myself while at the kitchen sink, washing
dishes. “Vanessa’s wrong. Branden is just like the rest of them.” Wasn’t he?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Branden

  
After being cooped up in my dorm
the past two days, I was up and about
by Sunday evening, walking around the shopping plaza near Easton U. I sat on
one of the benches by the water fountain in the center and watched the faces of
everyone that went by: some happy, few full of resentment, and some unreadable.

  
I never bothered to take the time to absorb my surroundings until a year ago.
That was when everything changed in my life. Samantha broke up with me, and I
couldn’t play hockey anymore. Revealing my secret to her and my high school coach
took everything I loved away, leaving loneliness behind. Not like I had a
choice when I was getting way too sick to do anything.

  
Sighing, I got up from the bench and started to head back to campus. Then
unexpectedly, I saw Moya, walking alone along the strip. Her brown eyes gazed
all over the place as if she’d lost her shadow.

  
I kept walking in the direction towards her, remaining casual. Moya finally
noticed me and her face seemed to light up.

  
Before I could say a word she asked, “Were you trying to get me in your dorm by
pretending to be sick?”

  
I shuffled back a bit, placing my hands in my pockets. “What? No! Why would you
think that? I didn’t even ask you to walk with me that night.”

  
She gulped. “Oh…I thought...” Moya turned and stared into the window of the
clothing store on our left, hiding her apologetic eyes for making that
assumption. What a prideful girl.

  
I inhaled a long breath, deciding to give up trying to crack her shield for
now, especially after my session on Friday. I was too tired and too caught up
in my own problems.

  
“Well, see you around,” I muttered under my breath as I walked past her.

  
“Are you feeling better then?” she asked quickly, her tone friendlier.

  
I slanted my body and gave her a sideway glance. “Yeah, it wasn’t anything
major.”

  
We stared at each other for several seconds then I remembered something. “Are
you still looking for a part-time job?”

  
She nodded.

  
“That place is still looking for someone to work weekends if you’re
interested?” I said.

  
Moya smiled sweetly before answering, “Thank you. I guess I’ll take you up on
that.”

  
I reached in my pocket for my cell phone to give the store manager a call. I
was unable to do that as Moya surprised me with what she said next, “Sorry I’ve
been so bitchy for no reason.”

  
Speechless, I placed the phone back in my pocket and gazed at her. Moya seemed
to be in a good mood. “That’s okay. You can make it up by having dinner with
me?”

  
She rolled her eyes and a frown appeared. “That doesn’t mean I’m gonna go out
with you now. I was just apologizing.”

  
I closed the gap between us, inching a few more steps toward her. I noticed a
thin lock of curly hair escaped its prison from behind her ear, its silky
strands clinging to her soft skin that begged to be caressed. I could even
smell her shampoo—the alluring vanilla scent was beyond intoxicating. I needed
to be next to her for the rest of the night. “Come on, I’m not proposing here.
All I’m asking for is one dinner?”

  
“You…” Moya paused, as if fighting for the right words to turn me down,
obviously having a hard time. Then finally, she shook her head and brushed some
curls behind her ear and nodded, “All right, why not.”

  
I was pleased. “Great. So, how about,” I looked down on my watch. It was almost
7pm, “um…we could head over to Charley’s? That’s the best restaurant around
here.”

  
Moya skimmed her clothes. “Like this? I mean, I don’t know about you, but I
don’t want to walk into some lavish restaurant looking so casual.”

  
“Oh, it’s not like that. Besides, you look great,” I said.

  
She lowered her head and fiddled with the loops of her jeans, as if trying to
conceal the fact she was smiling at my words. She really did look good. For a moment,
I envisioned how much better she looked underneath it all.

  
“Shall we?” I said, shaking off my dirty thoughts and motioned for us to head
down the street to Charley’s restaurant; eager to spend the evening talking
with Moya Douglas, finally.