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  Copyright

  Just Because of You

  Copyright © 2019 Gianna Gabriela

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-7339950-3-0

  Print ISBN: 978-1-7339950-4-7

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, or by any other means, without written permission from the author. The only time passages may be used is for teasers, blog posts, articles, or reviews, so long as the work isn’t being wrongfully used.

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, events, and incidents portrayed are solely from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, events, or other incidents is coincidental or are used fictitiously.

  Cover design by Sly Fox Cover Designs

  Edited and Proofread by Landers Editorial

  Dedication

  To Victoria & Jay,

  Thank you for riding along with me. For driving me from one signing to the other. For picking up my late night calls.

  To true friendships,

  Gianna Gabriela

  1

  CHRISTIAN COLE

  I hang up the call and sit on my truck for a moment too long, contemplating what I just heard. I let the news sink in. I’m surprised that I got offered a job on a weekend. Not bad.

  “Are you going to sit there all day or are you going to get to work?” My boss shouts from inside the house. I don’t bother responding to him but instead jump out of the bed of the truck and follow in behind him.

  Nigel bumps me the moment I walk in through the front door. “He’s being an ass today,” he says, pointing at the retreating jerk we call boss. David Hollister. He runs Hollister Construction and has always been a tool.

  “He’s always an ass,” I respond, stretching my arms, getting ready to continue painting.

  Nigel smiles. “True, but there must be something else going on this week. His assholery is at peak level.”

  I laugh at Nigel’s words. There’s not a lot of joy that I find in this job, so I’m grateful to have a coworker like Nigel who can always lighten up the mood.

  Construction.

  Painting.

  While some people love this kind of work, I don’t. I never imagined I’d be at someone else’s house making their dreams come true. I didn’t think I’d be building a deck for other people. I wanted to play football.

  Now you have a chance to do something different, the voice in the back of my head says.

  “What are you thinking about?” Nigel asks as I touch the wall and confirm that it’s ready for a second coat.

  I haven’t had enough time to think about it. But it seems that opportunity is knocking at my door and I’d be a fool to not answer. “Coach Morales is retiring,” I tell him.

  “Like your former high school football coach, that one?” Nigel asks. He didn’t go to school in Forest Pines. He moved here three years ago because he was searching for something new. Getting away. Funny that he finds coming here a getaway, while I feel trapped.

  “Yeah, that one.” He knows about Coach Morales from our conversations about my time playing football at Bragan High.

  “And you’re thinking about him retiring because…?” I dip the roller into the container of paint and begin applying the second coat of blue.

  I shrug. “They want me to take over his job.”

  I hear something fall then Nigel mutters something under his breath. I turn to find that the paint bucket has tipped over and the blue paint is all over the tarp. Thank God we covered that before we started; otherwise, the floors would be ruined.

  I spring into action. Lifting the bucket, I use my roller to get as much of the paint from the tarp as possible. I roll it onto the wall and repeat the actions a few more times until I’ve gotten all the paint I can get from the floor. Can’t waste any paint, I imagine Hollister’s voice in the back of my head.

  I hate this job.

  “Thanks,” Nigel says when it seems everything is under control.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “So, they want you to be head coach?” he asks, returning to our conversation.

  “Yeah. I actually just got the offer over the phone.”

  “What did you say?” Nigel presses as he stands up from his place and heads to the wall opposite me.

  “I said yes.” I did. I agreed on the spot without asking for more details. I didn’t need any more information, didn’t want it. I wanted an out from this job. Football was once my dream. Coaching it, while not playing it, is as close as I’m going to get.

  “Why are you still here?” Nigel asks, like the moment I accepted the offer I should’ve been out the door. He knows I hate it here.

  I shrug. “I can’t just walk out on the job.”

  “Why not?” he asks, baffled.

  “I need to talk to Hollister about it. I’d like to give him a two-week’s notice, but they need me to go in tomorrow morning.”

  “He’s not going to be happy about that. If I were you, I’d leave now and never talk to him again.”

  “I’ve got to do this the right way.” I’ve had my life planned out before, only to have the plan go to hell. I don’t want to have to go through that again. I want to make sure that it’s actually going to work out this time.

  “You excited to start over?”

  I nod. I’m happy to get to do something I love again. The last six years of my life haven’t

  been the best. While they started off shaky, I still wouldn’t trade them for anything.

  Not even for her.

  2

  AMARI SANTANA

  I can’t believe I’m going back to the place where I grew up. Forest Pines wasn’t great for me the first time around. I’m not really sure why I think it’ll treat me any better the second time.

  But even with all my doubts, I still pack my things into my bags and get in the car.

  I settle in for the drive to the place I came from.

  The place I have avoided for a very long time. Six years, to be exact.

  My phone rings as I pull onto the highway for what’ll be the longest drive of my life. A drive down memory lane.

  “Hey,” I answer by pressing the button on my steering wheel.

  My best friend’s voice fills the vehicle. “’Sup girl!” she says, immediately making me smile. Thank goodness at least that relationship survived the end of high school. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she had left me too.

  “What’s up, Emely?” I say, trying to mask the sadness in my voice.

  “You know, living my best life, sipping on piña coladas beach side,” she says excitedly. She’s truly been living the life… I wish I had too.

  “Why did you let me get a teaching degree again?” I ask, knowing I could never afford to live the life Emely lives with my expected salary. Then again, you couldn’t pay me enough to do what she does.

  “Because you thought business administration wasn’t for you,” she says, reminding me.

  I nod. I did think that. I still do. Teaching is my passion. “Still wish I were beach side right now with enough drinks to quiet my thoughts,” I tell her.

  “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” I don’t know about that. Emely is always up to something, always on a new adventure.

  “Where are you again?” I ask. It’s fall here in the Northeast, so she’s definitely not in this part of the world.

  “Mexico! I love it here,” she exclaims.

  “See, you definitely can’t complain about your job.”

  “Still can. I have a client meeting tonight, so I’m just resting until then,” she says.

  “Tonight? It’s Sunday. Where’s the client meeting?” I question, wondering
what kind of client wants to meet on a weekend.

  “A nearby club… and before you say anything, it’s not my fault the client owns several and wants to show me around so that I can see his business before we talk about how to grow it.”

  “Grow his business, you say,” I joke, merging onto the highway that’ll lead me straight to Forest Pines.

  “Very funny, Amari. Anyway, I called you and here you are trying to distract me from what I wanted to ask you.” She got me there. I knew she was calling because of this, because of the move. My best friend wouldn’t forget. Not after all the tears she saw me cry.

  I pretend not to know what she’s talking about. “I just want to know about your latest adventure,” I tell her, trying to lead us away from the real motive behind her call.

  “While deflecting questions about your own,” she adds.

  “I’m not really going on an adventure,” I tell her.

  “You’re going back home.”

  I don’t know that I can call it that anymore. “Yes I am.”

  “How do you feel?” Emely asks, not wasting a second and getting right to it. I don’t know when she became the girl who wanted to talk about feelings, but right now I need my party-first-ask-questions-later friend. I don’t want to think about my choices. I don’t want to think about what factors are driving me to make them.

  “I’m fine,” I tell her. Fine could mean anything, in my book, so it’s not technically a lie.

  “Fine… you know what they say it means when a woman tells you she’s fine.”

  “No, what do they say?”

  “That it stands for freaked out, insecure, nervous, and emotional. So if that’s the fine you’re feeling, then you are not okay.”

  “I’m… I’m fin—” I start to say again, but Emely cuts me off.

  “Amari, don’t lie to me. We’re like sisters, we always have been. We don’t lie to each other.”

  “What do you want me to say?” I ask, knowing she won’t leave it alone until I give her what she wants.

  “Just tell me the truth,” she says, taking on a compassionate tone I seldom hear from her. She’s usually laughing at everything. I don’t even know how she holds a corporate job. I guess it’s good that it revolves around entertainment, so it fits her personality perfectly.

  I exhale loudly, trying to build up the courage to put words to my emotions. To talk about my fears. “It would be a lot easier to talk about this if you were here in person,” I say, stalling.

  “I’m sorry I’m not there to help you with the move. I feel bad enough as is, but I couldn’t reschedule,” she says, matter-of-factly.

  “It’s not your fault your job moved up the meeting,” I say, agreeing with her. She was supposed to be right here with me, but, alas, duty calls.

  “Talk to me, Amari,” she presses.

  “I’m scared.”

  “To see him again?” she says, going straight to the source of my emotions.

  I let out a sigh. Seeing him again is my biggest fear. “I haven’t heard anything about him. From him. I have no reason to think that he’s still there. But part of me can’t help…” I start but struggle to let the words out.

  “Think about what would happen if you saw him again?” my best friend finishes my sentence.

  “Should I be doing this? Is this stupid?” I ask, questioning my choice to go back for the millionth time since I made the decision in the first place.

  “It’s not stupid. It’s an opportunity. You’ll get to be an elementary school principal,” she tells me the same words she’s been repeating to me for a while now.

  I’ve been a teacher for two years in a system where I feel I can’t do anything. I’m just supposed to follow orders, even though I know it’s not the best for the kids. This is supposed to be different. “Right,” I say, agreeing with her because I know it makes sense.

  “This is an opportunity to not only build your resume but also to not have to answer to anyone,” she adds.

  “Well… I’ve got to answer to the board.”

  “You also get to live on your own and not with annoying roommates” Emely says, ignoring my comment. I’ve been rooming with someone my entire adult life. At first it was college, and after college I couldn’t afford my own apartment, so I moved in with her. Now, I get to move into my old house.

  “I lived with you,” I remind her.

  “Yeah and hated it!” she yells back.

  “Not my fault you’re messy.” She is. Leaves her clothes everywhere; I always felt like I had to be her parent and organize everything for her. It’s the least I could do though since she helped pick my life up from the mess he left behind.

  “Whatever,” she replies and I know for a fact she’s rolling her eyes.

  “Are you staying at your parents’ house?”

  “Yes I am.” My parents left Forest Pines shortly after I did. They always wanted to move somewhere near the beach, so they settled in Newport, Rhode Island.

  They never sold their house though. They said it was my childhood home and would always be there. They gifted it to me and told me I could sell it if I wanted to.

  I considered putting it up on the market.

  I wanted to.

  And I didn’t want to.

  I knew my parents hoped I’d go back to my hometown eventually. I avoided going back to FP while they were still living there, coming up with any excuse I could find. For a while, my parents visited me, and when they moved, I had no reason to go back there. No reason to make a six-hour drive down memory lane.

  No reason until now.

  Now, I’m coming back to stay.

  “See, it’s a good choice and an amazing opportunity.”

  “With a high risk.” I’m risking seeing him again and having all the pieces I picked up after he broke me fall apart.

  “He probably doesn’t even live there anymore. He had plenty of other opportunities, so he’s probably gone with no desire to ever return.” I know Emely’s words are supposed to make me feel better, but the tightness I feel in my chest makes me question what it is I fear most. To see him or to learn he’s gone. That he’s moved on.

  “You’re right.”

  “And if he is there, you better tell me right away so I can get my ass on a plane and plant my foot on his face.” Her words cause the tension within me to dissolve into laughter.

  When I finally stop laughing, I say to her, “I love you.”

  “Same here, girl. Same here.”

  “I’m going to be so much farther from you now,” I complain.

  “Distance has never kept us away before,” she reminds me. That’s true. We went to colleges in different states but managed to keep our friendship going despite the hundreds of miles in between. We got together as often as we could. We vented to each other. We Skyped and Facetimed. Even from afar, she comforted me while I cried myself to sleep every night for weeks.

  Because of him.

  “How long till you’re there?” she asks.

  “I just left, so basically I’ve got about six hours.” Not long enough.

  “Great. Well, I’ve gotta go get ready for this meeting. Message me once you get in and get settled and I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

  “Alright.”

  “And, Amari?”

  “Yes?”

  “Remember you’re stronger than you think.”

  “I know, I know.” I hang up and blast some music as I drive to the place I brokenly drove away from six years ago. I let the music drown out my thoughts, afraid if I don’t my thoughts will eventually drown me.

  3

  AMARI

  I park the car, shake off the nerves, and open the driver side door. The house looks the same. The same green door. The old swing on the porch. The welcome mat. It’s like nothing’s changed. Like being the operative word.

  I will my feet to move. I don’t bother to take my belongings out of the car. Instead, I reach my front door and let myself into my childhood home.
Half of me expects my parents to meet me on the other side, but I know they won’t.

  I instantly turn on the light and take in all the surroundings. The house opens up to the living room, which I find is still furnished. My parents must’ve paid someone to clean it because it smells amazing in here. They were excited to know I was coming back to the place we called home for many years, so I’m sure they wanted me to just come in and not worry about much.

  I walk around the entire house, letting the memories guide me through each room.

  “You’re headed back home?” I recall my mother squealing through the phone as I told her about the offer.

  “She’s coming here?” my dad shouted from the background.

  “No no. She’s going back to Forest Pines.”

  “Put it on speaker. I want to hear,” I heard him say.

  “Fine fine,” my mother responded.

  “I got offered the job as the principal of the elementary school, so I figured I should give it a try,” I told them, giving Dad the news I had already given Mom.

  “Now you get to use the house!” she exclaimed.

  I remember trying to muster some of the enthusiasm I knew was running through my parents’ bodies, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t think about the good times spent here because all those memories were soured by him.

  Home wasn’t a safe place anymore.

  They thought I was so eager to finally make my way back, but I wasn’t. They had chalked up me never coming home to me being really busy because of school. They came to me instead, visiting me whenever they had a chance.

  My parents never knew what happened senior year. I never really explained to them why I never wanted to come back. Why I avoided every story they wanted to tell me about Forest Pines. They never knew about the guy who broke my heart. They didn’t know him or the fact that he and I were even dating.

  If they had, they would’ve questioned my choice of college—of not even applying to the school of my dreams because I had a different dream to chase. I wanted to go where he was going. That was stupid of me, I realize that now.