Hard to Hold On

chapter Ten



Nolan



This is the plan. Sell my mom’s house, give away some of her belongings, pawn what’s most valuable for some quick change, and then move back to Miami with Mills. The reason behind this plan is Natalie. I gave up on calling her a few days ago because it was starting to piss me off but the same night I came up with the idea that I’ll surprise her. I know she misses me because I miss her like hell. Since we’ve split up I’ve felt nothing but incomplete. I don’t feel whole without her. I’ve been drinking my ass off so much to get rid of the pain but it’s not going anywhere until we’re reunited again.

After pulling the empty cardboard boxes out of the trunk, I slam it shut then head for the house. As I step inside, I spot Mills digging through one of the tall boxes. “What are you looking for?” I ask, dropping the folded cardboard on top of the coffee table. I make my way towards him and he sighs, standing up straight to look at me.

“The photo album Mom had. I can’t find it.”

“It’s not in that box.” I turn for a shorter box in the corner and dig through it until I find the sky-blue photo album. I run my fingers across it, staring at the picture on top of me, Mills, my mother, and my father. That’s when we were a family. When we were whole. Shit got f*cked up after he died. After he died, it seemed as if life was going nowhere but downhill. “Why are you looking for it?” I ask, turning to face Mills while aiming to distract myself from the negative thoughts.

“I just wanted to look through it one more time before we put it in storage.” He takes it from me then turns for the kitchen. I follow after him but lean against the wall as he takes a seat at one of the chairs around the table. Flipping to the first page, a wide smile immediately forms on his lips. “I remember this,” he says, laughing. “Dad took us to the park and I pushed you down the slide a little too hard. You scraped your cheek and your hands and started crying. Then Dad told you to toughen up and take it like a man.”

“I was only four,” I chuckle, stepping to his side to look over his shoulder. I stare down at the picture of four-year-old me wiping tears from my eyes and my dad bending down in front me, telling me to toughen up. He wasn’t being rude about it. He just didn’t want me to grow up to be a wuss. I guess his mild scolding’s paid off.

Mills flips through the pages a few times and the kitchen grows silent to allow the memories to flow. Most would expect an awkward silence but it’s far from that. It’s humbling. A few pictures of my Mom holding me in her arms when I was baby show up and even some pictures of her holding Mills’s hand at the shore of a beach, at the park, and even here, at this very house. Mills was more attached to my mother and I to my father.

“Remember when Dad always called you Milton instead of by your nickname?” I laugh.

He chuckles, continuing his stare down. “Hell yeah. I hated it so much. It didn’t match my personality but he was the only person who could get away with it.”

Sighing, I drop down in the chair across from him. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if he were still around.”

“Me too. Things would be better, I know that. We never would have moved away from Mom and she never would have met her douche of a boyfriend Derrick. I can’t believe he really had the nerve to show up at the funeral. F*cking bastard.” Mills’s grip tightens around the edge of the photo album and I shake my head.

“Calm down. It’s over with. She’s with Dad again.”

His grip lacks as he presses his lips together. “I guess.” He begins to flip through but pauses as he reaches the picture of me in a tux.

“Let me see that,” I say before taking it away from him. I stare down at the picture of me in a black tux, pink vest, and a matching pink bowtie. Some of the pictures are single pictures but others are with Sharon. She wore a silky pink gown, her blonde hair was pinned up, and her makeup was overly done. I guess I can admit that she’s changed because at the wake, her makeup wasn’t as caked as it is in this picture.

I look down at the picture of her in my arms, smiling up at me, and then another with her still in my arms but we’re kissing. At the sight of it I cringe and right after, the painful memories return.



“Check this out,” Mills said, tossing a football in my direction. Luckily I caught it before it could knock over the mannequins. Mills had a strong arm.

“Mills, chill out.”

“F*ck outta here,” he said, tossing another football. I grimaced as I caught it and then he chuckled. “Fine. Wussy.”

“Whatever,” I muttered as I placed the footballs in the bin beside me. “Let’s head to the food court. I need something to eat . . . plus I want to buy Sharon this Build-A-Bear thing she’s been talking about. Her birthday is tomorrow.”

Mills nodded in agreement and after we ate, we split up. I headed for the Build-A-Bear workshop while he headed to one of the shoe stores of the mall. I felt so f*cking stupid for making my way to that shop but I loved Sharon and I wanted to get her something she wanted. She said she wanted it to say something but I didn’t know what I was going to have it say. I wasn’t that damn creative.

As I rounded one of the corners, that’s when I saw her. She had on a pair of light blue skinny jeans, a white shirt that was knotted in the back, revealing her flat belly, and her blonde hair was in silky waves against her back. I was about to run up to her and twirl her in my arms but then a tall guy ran up to her side to catch up with her.

I wanted to pound his face in for draping his arm around her shoulder but when she started giggling and acting as if she’d known him for months—maybe even years—I backed off. She kept walking forward and I kept watching. She was . . . happy. Happier with him than she was with me.

I should have confronted her at that very moment. I should have kicked his ass and caused a scene just so she could be embarrassed, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I had to control myself and my temper.



A few weeks after I saw her with the other guy, we started to drift apart and I didn’t give one f*ck about it. I knew what she was doing when she would tell me she had to leave early to study or that she was going to meet one of her friends somewhere. I knew she was lying to me and it was making shit worse. I don’t know why I was still with her—why I was still sticking around. I guess I just enjoyed the fact that she was an easy fix.

I thought she cared but she couldn’t have cared enough because she f*cked with someone else while dating me. I figured I wasn’t enough for her so I decided to start going out with Mills and a few friends. We would get so wasted that I would forget about everything. I don’t blame myself for bringing random girls home and having sex with them. I don’t regret shit because Sharon f*cked me over and she deserved every ounce of pain when she’d found out I had cheated on her as well. Once we’d figured out we were no match, we split and I never wanted to see her face again. I was lucky Mills found a job in Miami and wanted to get away from Mom and her boyfriend so I went with him. Miami was bad for me—someone who was only looking for quickies and one-night-stands—but I loved the feeling of being free.

I just knew, then, that I wouldn’t get serious with another girl until I was ready—until I wanted to trust again. I dated girls in Miami just to date them. I dated them because I was never in my right state of mind but when I met Natalie, looking at her caused something to flip inside of me. She was so innocent. So unique.

The first night I met her at the club, I admit she was hotter than hell and I wanted to f*ck her brains out. I wanted to slam my dick into her so many times and then drop her off at wherever she lived without so much as a phone call the next day, but I couldn’t. When we went to the beach on the first night I’d met her, she told me that being with me was the most fun she’d had in weeks. She told me I was sweet . . . caring . . . different. She said she knew I was hiding something—that I was feeling some kind of pain and I asked her how she knew but she never explained because she was drunk and kept switching subjects. I wanted an answer so badly that night but I never got one.

That very night, I realized what I was doing was wrong. I had cheated so many times before—even before Sharon—but I was so immature. I only did it because I’d always dated girls who were hot and in the end would f*ck me over. I could never figure out why I enjoyed the one night stands. I guess it was because with a one night stand, there are no feelings involved. You don’t have to care.

But with Natalie, I started to feel bad for my inner thoughts. I started to hate myself for hurting girls just because I was hurt. I had no reason besides the fact that I was immature. I admit there were a ton of girls who would call me the next day or even the next week looking for more from me but I couldn’t afford more. When I saw them, I would act like I didn’t even know them.

Sharon was the main girl I actually wanted something with before I had moved to Miami. The girls before her, I liked a lot, but they ended up destroying me as well. I seriously tried—especially after Mills told me not to f*ck up anymore—but after Sharon I didn’t care anymore. She made me not want to give a damn about love. I hated love at one point because being in love is what had hurt me.

I don’t know what it is exactly that made me fall for Natalie but I want her back and I don’t care how I get her into my arms again, I just know I will. I’m not giving up on the girl who proved to me that there’s always a person who can bring out the best in someone else.