The Nights Were Young Read online

  She avoided looking towards the dresser and its bottom drawer.

  She noticed something: the guitar propped against the wall in the corner of the closet.

  XVII

  Winter fell upon Crossfalls. There was no snow, just occasional sleet and biting weather that kept people indoors. The lake appeared to have fallen asleep. The waters moved slow and calmly, much unlike the wild waves at the end of summer and autumn. The sun would brightly show itself a day or two of the week, but for the rest of the days it was hidden behind gray overcast.

  Marie would be walking through the halls, see Travis, smile, and continue walking past him while he passed her. Their relationship had deepened, although only privately. Publicly they were still barely friends in order to keep information from slipping to Marie’s mother.

  But things slowly changed. Occasionally Travis would skip school without warning, and then he would not return any messages the entire day. When Marie would ask where he had been, he would respond with his usual “Don’t worry about it.” It did not take her long to realize that after days like these he had more pot to smoke when they met later in his truck. Marie would smoke on some nights with him still, usually on a night when her mother had driven her to the brink of complete madness.

  “Marie,” her mother had said. “You’re grades are dropping more. What are you doing? You look like you haven’t even been sleeping. What about your future? Do you care about that anymore? You need to meet a nice boy. I hear Travis still hangs around you at school. Are you seeing him? Well don’t. Think about school now. The party can come later, and with the right people.”

  Marie ignored most of the stern conversation between her and her mother, but sometimes her mother’s point of view sunk in. She would wonder, when she was by herself, what she was truly doing, what she truly wanted. Travis avoided conversations about where Marie was going after high school, and he had every right to. There was no doubt in Marie’s mind that she would leave Crossfalls. Any day an acceptance letter would arrive from one of the schools she had applied to, but there was no letter coming for Travis.

  The windows of Travis’s truck were fogged and the heater was on low. Marie and Travis breathed heavily in the final throws, and when they were done Travis lay on her gently. She held his face against hers and kissed him. A few moments passed, and then Travis sat up and leaned against the driver’s window. He rolled the window down a few inches then lit a cigarette and took a gulp from his water bottle – tonight it was vodka again.

  Marie put her clothes back on.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Why?”

  “You just seem… like something’s up I guess.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, and she wiped the fog from her window and peered out.

  “Get any letters back from those schools?” he asked.

  She was surprised he had brought it up. “No, not… not yet.”

  “Nervous?”

  “A little.”

  “Why? You’re gonna get in for sure. Aren’t you like, the top ten percent in the class or something?”

  “I was… I don’t know anymore.” Marie could hear her mother talking about dropping grades.

  “Yeah, well you were when you applied, so I’m sure you’ll get in somewhere.” His voice sounded mostly encouraging, but his words still sounded forced.

  She moved to him and put her head on his chest and spoke softly. “You know it’s not like I’m just gonna run off and never see you again.”

  He laughed. “I think it depends on where you go.”

  “I won’t go far,” she whispered. “I won’t go far.”

  XVIII

  It was on a school day when Travis had disappeared. He had sent a text the night before saying “Good night pretty girl,” and there had been nothing since. Marie had messaged him that morning when she did not see him in the halls.

  MARIE: Are you skipping again?

  There was no reply.

  Class was dull, but she was able to finish some homework during lunch while Kate and Joey talked to each other about where they would go for their some month long anniversary. Marie sent Travis another message, and another message, and there was no response.

  Near the end of the day Marie was getting some books from her locker when Brandon walked up to her. He was upset. His shoulders were slumped and his hands were in his pockets. He spoke low, “Hey, can I talk to you real quick?”

  “Yeah. What’s up?” Marie asked, shutting her locker.

  “I just, I feel like someone has to say something about it.”

  “About what?”

  She braced herself.

  The words poured out of his mouth rapidly. “How does it feel to be sleeping with an alcoholic?”

  For a moment Marie stopped thinking, stunned by his sudden verbal assault.

  Before she could speak Brandon shook his head and corrected himself. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. That just kind of… came out.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Brandon?”

  “I just,” he started, looking away from her, “I thought you would be better than to keep hooking up with someone like him. Or at least I thought you wouldn’t put up with everything he does.”

  Marie walked past him. “You’re one to talk, Brandon. It’s not like you never party.”

  He followed her. “I’m not even talking about partying, Marie. I’m taking about how he’s fucked up all the time. How are you okay with that?”

  She stopped and turned around. “What are you talking about? He’s not,” she spoke lower, “fucked up all the time.”

  Brandon laughed. “Are you blind? He hasn’t had a sober day in months. You know where he is right now?”

  Marie paused and stared nervously into Brandon’s condemning eyes. “He just… didn’t come to class.”

  “Cause he’s getting drunk Marie. Trust me. He used to ask me if I wanted to skip and hang out at his place and just smoke all day and take his mom’s pain killers. That’s what he does when he’s not here. And even when he is here he’s drunk.”

  “That’s not true,” Marie said fast, shaking her head.

  “Oh yeah? Ever seen that water bottle he likes to keep in his locker?”

  Marie shook her head again. “He doesn’t bring that…”

  “To school?” Brandon answered. “Yes he does. He takes drinks in between classes. Why do you think he chews gum all the time? So people don’t smell it on him.”

  She could not stand more. She walked onward.

  Brandon caught up one more time and stopped her. “I just thought you had a right to know that he’s not who you think he is.”

  She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t think of anything to defend Travis, and it made her stomach drop that she couldn’t. She turned away from him and kept walking.

  She sent more and more messages to Travis. There was no response.

  MARIE: We need to talk! Please answer me!

  Brandon could not have been right. He barely knew Travis, not the way that Marie did.

  The hours crept by and there was never any response. She had had enough, and she would not stand the silence. The final bell rang; she charged to her car and threw her things inside, slammed on the gas pedal, and sped straight to River Shores.

  **********

  The trailer looked the same: overgrown weeds, trash in the yard, and Travis’s truck right there in the dirt driveway.

  “Jerk,” Marie muttered.

  She stepped out, marched to the front door, and then pounded on it, nearly knocking the door down. Some moments passed, and then the door swung open.

  “Who is it?” Travis stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but boxers. He probably had not even left his bed that day. His hair was messed up. His eyes were bloodshot and glazed. He reeked of liquor, and he could barely stand while leaning against the door. “Marie?”

  He rubbed his eyes as if she were a mirage. “What –
what are you doing here, again? I thought we agreed you don’t come here.”

  She could not immediately think of what to say to him; there was just shock. Brandon was telling the truth. There he was: a stoned Travis in front of her, just as Brandon had described him.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he murmured. “Why are you here?”

  “Have you been here all day?” She folded her arms.

  Travis reached behind the doorway and brought back a cigarette. “You got a light?” He could barely articulate his words.

  It was unbelievable. Her eyes were beginning to tear up, but she wiped them and buried the emotions down.

  “How much have you drank?” she asked.

  Travis found his own lighter on the floor of the trailer next to the doorway and lit the cigarette, all the while muttering, “Why does that matter?”

  “Because it matters Travis. What the hell are you doing?”

  He ran his fingers through his ratty hair. For a second it seemed as if his eyes were going to roll back, but he came to before he drifted off. “I’m sorry baby what you’d say?”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  She reached up and snatched the cigarette out of his mouth. She threw it on the ground and walked away.

  “Marie wait!”

  Travis tripped coming out of the trailer and landed face first in the dirt.

  Marie turned around, but she was too appalled to help him up.

  “Marie, please don’t go,” he said, wobbling to his feet. He stood in front of her, swaying and trying hard to keep his eyelids open.

  “Did you take your mom’s pain killers?” Marie asked.

  He stood still. His head lowered.

  “Did you?”

  He nodded. He put his hands on his head. “My head’s throbbing.”

  “Do you do that all the time?” she asked.

  His face scrunched and he started choking up. “No,” he mumbled. “It’s – it was just a bad night last night you know?”

  “No. No I don’t know. I’m not even sure I know who you are right now.” She turned to walk away.

  He lunged forward and spun her around, then held her shoulders and did his best to keep a straight look into her eyes.

  “Please, Marie. You know me.”

  “Let me go Travis.”

  “My mom and I fought last night, real bad. Real, really bad. I just, that’s just what I do when we fight.”

  Marie looked back at the trailer. His mother would have made her presence known by then if she was there. “Where’s your mom Travis?”

  “She’s not here now.”

  “Was she even here last night?”

  “I’m not lying, baby. We fought, and then she ran off to meet some dude. I don’t know where she goes. She just leaves sometimes. Why don’t you go find her?”

  She shook his hands off of her and backed away.

  “This isn’t just partying, Travis. You, you might need help with, with this.”

  “What?” he said, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t need help. I need you to get off my fucking back.”

  She wiped more tears from her cheek. He was crushing her. “No, Travis. You need help. Brandon said…”

  She looked away. Out beyond the trees the sun was setting. The sun always seemed to be setting here, as if every day came to this place to end.

  “Brandon? What’d he say?”

  Marie did not answer.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her close. Then with a vile, low, growling voice he asked, “What’d he say?”

  “That hurts!”

  She yanked her arm away from him and ran to her car. Her crying was harder to hold back now.

  Travis ran after her and pushed the car door shut when she opened it. “I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m leaving, Travis.”

  “No, please. What did he say?”

  Marie shoved him away from her, and her anger burst out of her, “He said you’re fucked up all the time! You drink all the time! You smoke all the time! And apparently you pop pills all the time!” She wiped tears from her face. Her palms were burning and she was shaking. Her lips quivered when she yelled at him. “What the hell is this, Travis? This isn’t you! Who are you? Is this… this… I guess this is what you’re really like, right?”

  “That’s not true,” he cried, and he held her hand. “Please, baby, that’s not true.”

  He started crying. He cried so much that he fell to his knees in front of her, still clinging to her hand.

  “I’m sorry!” he sobbed. “You never cared that I drank before. Why - why are you mad now?”

  There was nothing she could say to this – because he was right. She had just never known how far he’d taken it.

  She knelt down and held his face. For a moment she thought back to the first day she had ever seen him. He had walked into the lunch room like he was undefeatable, that smile beaming across his face. Whatever light there had been in him that day was completely absent now. He was more broken than she would have ever believed.

  “This is different, Travis,” she said. “This, right here, is different.”

  “I can change,” he whimpered. “I can. I really can. I swear I don’t want to be like this. I can change for you, Marie. I really can.” He kissed her. His eyes were closed and he could not stop sobbing. “I love you. I really do, pretty girl. I love you. You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved.”

  “Travis…”

  “And you’re the only girl I’ll ever love.”

  He kissed her again. It was wet, drenched in his tears.

  What could she say to him? She cared for him, cared for him more than anyone she had cared for before. She did love him, but at the time, on that day that she could see ending beyond the trees, she was too afraid to admit it.

  “Come on,” she said. “I’ll help you inside.”

  The inside of what Travis called home was worse than the overgrown yard outside. Trash was littered along the cut up rugs that made the carpet. The light was dim; it was only coming from one lamp set on the floor in the corner. There was a tattered couch against one wall, and a TV across from it with a fuzzy screen showing a soap opera that Travis must have been watching. There was a half empty handle of rum next to the couch that Travis must have been drinking, and on the floor next to it was a filled ashtray, a cigarette butt still smoking on the edge of it.

  “Where’s your room?” Marie asked.

  Travis burst out in laughter.

  When he would not stop Marie finally asked. “What’s so funny?”

  “You’re in my room!” he said. He left her arms and collapsed onto the tattered couch. He laughed for minutes more, then quieted down and stared up into Marie’s eyes. There was light back in them, and he was smiling up at her. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  She knelt next to him and ran her fingers through his hair. “I’m glad I’m here, too,” she said softly. “You need a shower.”

  They laughed.

  “I know,” he said.

  They grew quiet.

  Travis continued looking up at her. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  Her face felt warm. “Shh,” she whispered. “Stop talking.”

  “Sing for me,” he said.

  “Come on, Travis,” she groaned. “Not now.”

  “Baby, sing to me.” He closed his eyes. He started singing softly, “If I could be…with you…baby I would be…”

  She smiled and wiped the tears from her face. She started singing with him, “You could be my anything… and I would be your everything…”

  Travis was nodding off. Marie stopped singing to hear him softly utter his final words before he fell asleep. “Just come…back…around…”

  She looked upon him, and she knew what he was to her then, a beautiful, heart-broken hero, drunk and stoned and passed out in a waste land of a home. He was not something her mother wo
uld understand, nor her father, nor anyone from her world - or ever accept. He was a mistake to them, but the truth was he was a human who had been surrounded by mistakes and had made his own ones. He wasn’t perfect, and Marie didn’t want him to be, and she didn’t want herself to be.

  She kissed his cheek.

  Marie had not even heard the car engine approach the trailer.

  The door flung open and in walked Travis’s mother and some older, mean looking man. His mother looked almost the same as last Marie had seen her. Maybe her shirt had changed, but her demeanor was unaltered.

  “Who the hell are you?” his mother griped.

  Marie stood up. She looked at Travis nervously. He was passed out. She turned back to the woman. “I’m uh…”

  His mother’s attention quickly switched to Travis. “You little bastard!” she yelled. “Getting into my things again?”

  She shoved Marie out of the way and started hitting Travis on his leg, screaming. “Wake up you little shit!”

  Travis came to groggily, then immediately put his hands up in defense. “Mom! Mom, stop!”

  “Getting into all my shit again?”

  Marie tried to interrupt her. “Please, Miss --”

  His mother whipped around and pointed her finger inches from Marie’s face. “Get the hell out of here.” Her eyes were wide and crazy, full of anger and resentment to a girl she didn’t know.

  Marie looked at Travis. He was not sad, nor angry. His stoic expression conveyed one message to her: he was used to this. “Get out of here, pretty girl.”

  She wanted to say something more, tell him to come with her, or tell his mother to leave him alone. But Travis’s stared at Marie sternly, and he motioned his head towards the door.

  “Bye,” she whispered. She turned and walked out, ignoring the mean looking, older man next to the door when he winked at her.