GO LONG

"What? Who?"

Coach had a beer in his hand. It was clearly not the first beer of the night. He wouldn't look at me as I followed him into the living room. His lips twisted into a bitter semblance of a smile.

"Don't you get it Carol? He's the one."

"Where is she?"

"How could you do it Kyle? We brought you into our home! We trusted you!"

I looked at Mrs. Carmichael with a slightly less belligerent look on my face.

"I met her before I even knew you."

I looked at Coach.

"I love her."

I barely flinched as the beer bottle went careening past my head. I turned to glare at Coach. He was furious.

"You get the hell out of my house! You are off the team son! It's over!"

I went toe-to-toe with him, refusing to back down. I wasn't surprised that I was off the team, but it still felt like a blow to my gut. I was here for her. And he was keeping her locked away from me!

"I don't care! But you aren't keeping her locked up in here one more minute!"

"GET OUT!"

"NOT WITHOUT BELINDA!"

Coach and I were bellowing in each other's faces like a couple of wild animals. He was about to hit me. I knew he wanted to. But he seemed to wilt suddenly and turn away.

"We don't know where she is."

He looked like he was collapsing in on himself. Mrs. C took my arm. She looked like she'd been through hell this past week. They both did.

I probably looked like that too.

"I'm sorry Kyle. You have to go now."

"You really don't know where she is?"

"No. I don't."

She was about to shut the door when she thought better of it. She looked at me, her eyes pleading.

"We shouldn't have locked her in. But she's our baby, you see?"

I nodded. I didn't want to upset her. She looked like a pale reflection of herself. This wasn't her fault.

It was mine.

I sat in my car, my mind an utter blank. In the blink of an eye, I had lost everything. My girl. My child. My future.

But that wasn't going to fucking cut it. I was a Marine. We didn't back down from a fight. Of course, I had to find her to fight for her. The other stuff sucked but I would handle it.

I would start over at another school. I could do it. But I had to find her first.

Because she was coming with me.

Whether she wanted to or not.





Belinda





I checked the sleeperette again, making sure I had all of my meager belongings. I hadn't been able to bring much. Just my backpack and an overstuffed tote bag. My mom had shoved a couple of hundreds into my hand. Until I got to the bank in Chicago that was all the cash I had.

The trip from Chicago had been uneventful. We rode along the Hudson River, which looked gloomy and dramatic in the rain. It was much bigger than I had thought. So was Chicago, which surprised me by being literally the windy city. I'd spent the day before wandering around the park and the Art Institute. It was beautiful but so cold compared to California. At least the museum had been warm.

I was on autopilot, just following orders from Betsy. Rest on the train. Check. Get some culture. Check. Get your ass out here to me your best friend. Check.

Speaking of who...

The phone rang and I answered it, knowing it was Bets before I even glanced at it. Of course I knew who it was. Only one person knew the number.

"Hey hot stuff."

"Hey Bets."

"How's the little mama holding up?"

"I'm okay."

"Hmmm... okay is not going to cut it. You are bringing a new life into this world! You should be jubilant!"

"Jubilant? Who is this?"

"I happened to be a straight A lit student before I dropped out and joined the movement."

I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, I'm semi-jubilant."

"Good. Because we are going to celebrate!"

"Bets, please no."

"Oh just you wait, we have plans for you!"

"I'm tired, Bets."

"And missing that caveman I'm sure."

I sighed. She knew me too well.

"Yeah, I miss him."

"Well, you should let him know where you are."

"No. He's probably mad and he would just show up and try and carry me away."

"For sex?"

"To yell at me."

"Oh. Well you should at least tell him how you are. He's probably worried sick little B"

I sighed again. She was right. He was probably worried. That's part of the reason I was afraid to call.

"Yeah, I guess I better."

"You've had the phone for a while now, right?"

"I got it yesterday. But it was late by the time I was on the train. I couldn't exactly call him from the street."

"You've been on the train for 18 hours. With a private car."

I chewed my lip. "Yes..."

"So, what are you waiting for!"

"I just wanted to... sleep on it."

"Uh huh. Take the bull by the horns little B. Call him. I'll see you in a few hours."

"You're right. I know you're right. I'll call him. Thanks Bets."

I stared at the cheap disposable phone in my hand. I had to call him. I didn't have a choice.

I'd spent the day before wandering through the silent museum, staring at priceless works of art. It was the kind of place you planned to take your kid someday.

Your family.