Crossroads

  A Post-Choisie Series Novella

  Lori L. Otto

  Copyright

  Setting

  “I’m So Glad”

  “Layla”

  “Strange Brew”

  “Wonderful Tonight”

  “Sitting on Top of the World”

  “It’s In the Way That You Use It”

  “Crossroads” Epilogue - 10 Months Later

  Special Thanks

  Books by Lori L. Otto

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Copyright 2015 © Lori L. Otto

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Lori L. Otto Publications

  Visit our website at: www.loriotto.com

  Second Edition: February 2016

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Setting

  This novella is a tie-in to the Choisie series.

  CROSSROADS takes place the summer after Livvy’s first year of college.

  “I’m So Glad”

  “Call me when you land,” my mother says, pulling me into a hug. I shrug away after two seconds, figuring that’s enough time for her. “Okay?”

  “Aunt Patty will, I’m sure,” I mumble, putting my headphones back on. I see her mouth the words I love you before I turn around and walk away toward the terminal. She grabs my wrist before I get very far. “What?” I ask her, annoyed, pushing the headphone off my right ear.

  “Will, please don’t be angry with me.”

  “Mom, I just don’t want to miss the plane.” I look beyond her, not wanting to see the hurt that’s certain to be prevalent in her eyes.

  “You have an hour.”

  “And I still have to get through security. We should have been here an hour ago,” I tell her. “I was ready. You were running late.”

  “And I’ve apologized. I couldn’t get away from work, I told you.”

  “I should have just taken a cab, like I’d wanted.”

  “I just wanted to see you off on your first flight alone.”

  “It’s the safest form of transportation, Mom. And I’m sixteen. Trust me, you’ve left me in much more dangerous situations.”

  This time, I look at her directly. She blinks twice. Her nostrils flare. “I deserve that,” she whispers. Maybe she does; maybe she doesn’t. I probably shouldn’t have said it, either way. My throat tightens when I see her eyes water, and I look away before she sees any emotion in mine. “Will, Jon and Livvy sent you some money to spend on something fun this weekend. If you want to take Laila ice skating or to the waterpark or–“

  “Thanks,” I say, taking a stack of twenties from her and pocketing it quickly. “I’ll call them when I get through security.”

  “I love you, Will. Have a good time.”

  “Thanks.” She pats my upper arm twice, and this time turns away before I do. I’m glad she doesn’t wait for me to tell her I love her back. I’ve never felt that being disingenuous with her was fair to either of us. We’d talked about it in therapy. I’d promised her I’d tell her I love her the moment that I truly felt it. She seemed to accept this as she accepted the guilt of the years she’d spent neglecting my brothers and me.

  I put the headphone back in place and start the playlist again, watching for the signs that will take me to the right terminal.

  It’s not that I don’t feel love. I do. I love my brothers unconditionally. I know how fortunate I’ve been to have an older brother like Jon. Had it been anyone else, I’m not sure where Max and I would have ended up by now. He cared for us and loved us like a father should have. Not like our father did. Max and I were cursed with the two worst parents on the planet. An alcoholic and a narcissist for a mother; and a thief, a criminal, and a hypocrite for a father. Thanks a lot.

  I laugh to myself, glancing up at the sky with a smirk. While I definitely got screwed in the parental department, I got lucky with my siblings. Jon’s taken care of us. And Max, although he’s still annoying and a pain in the ass most of the time, has been my anchor over the past few years that Jon’s been away at college. There were times when I felt like I might lose my mind, or explode with anger, but I always wanted to be for Max what Jon was for me. I don’t think I’m nearly as successful; fortunately, Max is still young, and not as aware of the mistakes I make. I have a little time to figure things out before he starts emulating everything I do. I hope.

  Once at security, I read all the instructions even though I’ve been through this a few times and I read the rules online last night, just to remind myself. I remove my Vans, setting them in a bin next to the jacket my mom insisted I bring with me, even though it’s the middle of July. I’ll probably end up forgetting it somewhere. I toss my duffel and backpack onto the conveyer belt, and in the last bin, I carefully place my headphones, wallet, and the old iPod that Livvy’s uncle had given me. I don’t take my eyes off of it except when they wave me into the body scanner. Even then, I glance to make sure it’s out of anyone’s reach. For one thing, it’s an old iPod that can’t be bought anymore and can hold 40,000 songs; and another thing, Matty has filled it up to capacity with some of the greatest music I’ve ever heard. If I were to lose that thing, it would be like someone cutting off both of my ears.

  I rescue the music player first, wallet next, followed by the backpack (which carries my current books), my shoes (my favorites), my duffel bag full of clothes and necessities, and finally the unwarranted jacket. I have my priorities.

  After scrolling through songs, I find my favorite Eric Clapton one and press play. “Layla.” It’s my favorite for obvious reasons. Laila’s my girl, and I’m going to see her after seven weeks of not seeing her. It was because of this one song that Matty and I started discussing music in the first place, and he opened my eyes to what real music truly is. I knew the acoustic version of “Layla,” but he played the earlier one for me; then went back further to some band I’d never heard of named Cream, and holy shit! Clapton is a guitar genius. I’d listened to his songs so much that I could now hear the guitar riffs by themselves. I can’t explain it. I couldn’t explain it to Matty either, but I can hear them as if they’re their own solitary tracks. And they’re mesmerizing. It’s like I’ve never heard music until this summer.

  And since I’ve been getting into music, I feel like I can feel deeper. I loved Laila before I left her last spring, but I feel like I understand the depths of romantic love more now. Hearing it professed by so many songwriters in so many magnificent and eloquent ways… words just cut into my soul, bury themselves there. Someday I want to write my own version of “Layla.” For my Laila. And it will sound just as different as the original two by Clapton do. This one will be an anthem of pure and absolute love for my generation.

  Sure, Will. The only instrument I’ve ever played was a tuba, and that was a few years ago in middle school. I was the last one to choose my instrument, and got stuck with it. I hated it, and it showed in my artistry, or lack thereof.

  I want a guitar. I’d thought about getting a job this summer to save up for one, but the lure of books and music was too strong, and all I wanted to do was learn more about… well, anything… and listen to… well, everything. While Max had Trey Holland to play with just about every day, I had no one my age to come back to in New York. I hadn’t left many friends behind when we left. Constantly engrossed in books and eager to learn in class, other kids in my school had started p
icking on me. I could handle the name-calling. Who cared if they called me a nerd, or a geek, or a teacher’s pet? I didn’t. But when they started waiting for me after school just so they could trip me to watch the books and papers scatter across the sidewalk and laugh at me, or when they broke into my locker and stole my extra credit science papers to plagiarize, that was too much. I wanted to fight back. They were all bigger than me, though. My birthday late in the school year, I was one of the youngest of my freshmen class. It didn’t help that there were sophomores in my advanced classes, either.

  I was grateful for a new start in Utah when the time came. I hated the circumstances, but I needed a break. My growth spurt finally hit my sophomore year, and I knew I’d be able to take the bullies who made my life hell two years ago if I were to see them now. Starting my junior year in a new school–in a new borough, in fact–I knew I’d never face them again. I’d get another fresh start for the second time in two years. This one, I didn’t exactly want. It meant leaving my best friend, Landry, and my girlfriend, Laila, behind. I’d be closer to Jon, which I was excited about, but I’d be losing the two most important relationships I’d ever formed outside of my family.

  Getting to go back to Utah now is a budgetary stretch. On my sixteenth birthday last March, my mom told me she’d pay for me to fly back to Utah once over the summer, as soon as she could afford it. At the time, she didn’t have a job lined up; we didn’t even know where we were going to live.

  While it only took Mom a week to find a decent job–the first one not in a restaurant or bar–we only moved into our new place in Queens a week ago. Before that, we were lucky to stay in Livvy’s loft while she and Jon were doing summer apprenticeships in Brazil. Mom insisted on paying a fair amount for rent and utilities, even though there was no way she could even dream of paying the market price for the luxury apartment. Mom struggled to make ends meet there, and I know she barely scraped together the money for a deposit on the new place, so I have a sneaking suspicion the Hollands had something to do with this trip. Whatever it took to make it happen, I’m okay with it.

  I need to see Laila.

  I know this is the last time I’ll get to spend with her. I know I have to tell her goodbye, for good. It’s probably going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

  After settling into a seat by a large window at the terminal, I decide to call Jon.

  “Hi, Will!” Livvy, his girlfriend, answers cheerfully.

  “Hi, Livvy. How’s it going?”

  “It’s awesome. You doing okay?”

  “Yeah. Just at the airport.”

  “Oh, today’s the day you get to see Laila…” she says, except it sounds more like a song.

  “Yeah,” I say back to her. “I wanted to thank you guys for the cash. You didn’t need to do that, you know?”

  “It was your brother’s idea,” she says. “Oh, here he is. You want to talk to him?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “Nope,” she says, and I can hear a smile in her voice. “Will, have an amazing time. Can’t wait to see you next month!”

  “Cool, yeah,” I say.

  “Hey, kid,” Jon says. “You excited?”

  “Very,” I tell him.

  “You sound nervous. You nervous?”

  “A little, yeah.”

  “About what?”

  I hesitate a minute, hoping he catches on.

  “Right,” he responds. “If it doesn’t feel like the right time, there’s no pressure to go through with it, you know?”

  “I know.”

  “And you’ve discussed it with her?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “But if she changes her mind, and doesn’t want to, that’s an automatic–”

  “An automatic no, Jon. I’m not an idiot.”

  “I know you’re not,” he says with a chuckle. “It’s natural to be a little nervous, Will. Did you find my stash?”

  “Yeah, thanks. And thanks for the money. I told Liv, you didn’t have to do that.”

  “Well… do you know where you’re taking her? You weren’t clear about that.”

  “I have a plan,” I tell him vaguely. “It’s not going to cost any money, though.”

  “Well do something nice for her. And Will? If you’re breaking up, make sure she knows that first.”

  “She knows… she knows this is probably it for us. I just think it’s… you know, she’s my first love, I’m hers… we’ve both talked about… doing this together.”

  “It’s definitely a romantic notion. But it also complicates things. Feelings. It will bond you two, Will… I’m afraid it will make it harder to walk away.”

  “Well, then, maybe we’re meant to stay together, long-distance.”

  “You’re sixteen, Will. That’s not a romantic notion. That’s a ridiculous notion. And if you listen to nothing else I ever say, listen to this little bit of reality: once you have a taste for sex, kid, you’re going to want it again. Often. And with a girlfriend two thousand miles away, you’re not going to get it from her.”

  “But what if I never love anyone like her again?”

  “Ah, Will,” he says almost sympathetically.

  “Maybe she’s my Livvy,” I challenge him.

  “You forget that I’ve known my girlfriend longer than I’ve known our youngest brother, kid. Sure, I knew Livvy was the one for me by the time I was… I’ll say eighteen, just to play it safe… but we had a history; a partnership for many, many years before anything else happened. That’s not to say Laila couldn’t be your Livvy… I just don’t think you know her well enough to know that yet.”

  I let that sink in.

  “You still with me, Will?”

  The fact that I have already accepted I’ll never see her again after this tells me I know she’s not my Livvy. But she’s my Laila, and there’s something very special to me about that.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “You understand?”

  “Yeah, I do. And I know she’s not. But I think this is our ending. Everything’s seemed so unfinished. This just feels right for us.”

  “Just don’t do anything stupid. You’re the smartest kid I know, Will.”

  “I know,” I gloat.

  “Yeah, you know,” he laughs. “Just go have fun. Enjoy the last few days you have with your friends. Make some memories. Take a break from reading. You know I won’t give you that advice often, but I mean it this weekend.”

  “Okay. I will.”

  “How many books did you pack?”

  “Four.”

  “Still music theory stuff?”

  “Music theory, science and music, yeah.”

  “Well, at least it sounds cool. I can’t wait to hear all about it when we get back. You’ve got to teach me some things, okay?”

  “I will,” I tell him. “I love you, Jon.”

  “I love you, too, Will. Call me any time. If you need anything. You got it?”

  “Yeah. Thanks. Talk to you later.”

  “Bye, kid.”

  “Bye.”

  “Layla”

  Unlike my mother was earlier today, my aunt Patty is right on time. She waves at me from the other side of the carousel at baggage claim, waiting for me to follow the flow of travelers through the turnstile.

  “Will, stop growing up so fast!” she exclaims, giving me a hug.

  “You seem shorter, Aunt Patty,” I tease her.

  “I bet you’ve grown two inches. Is that possible? You haven’t even been gone two months!”

  I shrug my shoulders, letting her look at me. “It’s good to see you,” I tell her.

  “Did you check anything?”

  “Nope. It’s all here.” When she tries to take my backpack, I give her the lighter duffel instead.

  “It doesn’t look like you’re eating enough,” she says as we walk to her car.

  “Money’s been tight,” I tell her, “but we’re doing better than we were before. Not as well as we were when w
e were here, though.”

  “Well, you get to pick what you want for dinner tonight. Anything you want me to make.”

  “Green chile chicken enchiladas?” I ask her. “With black beans and warm chips.”

  “I already prepped the salsa. I remember it was your favorite. I was hoping you’d say that. It’s too much to make for one, so I haven’t had it since you all moved back.”

  “Can Laila have dinner with us?”

  “I assumed she was. More people to share the key lime pie with.”

  “Really?” I ask her, excited. “This is going to be the best dinner of my life.”

  “Well, I doubt that.”

  “Mom never cooks for us like that.”

  “You have dinner with the Hollands once a week, don’t you? They cook for you, right?”

  “They do. But it’s weird without Jon and Liv around. Max and Trey have each other, and then Jack and Emi are, like, old. No matter how good the food is, I’m always kind of uncomfortable.”

  “Well, this is your second home here. Hopefully you feel comfortable at my house.”

  “I do, Aunt Patty.”

  “Did you bring your license?” she asks, waiting beside the passenger door of her car.

  “Yeah… you’re gonna let me drive?”

  “When else do you get the chance?”

  “Never,” I laugh, taking the keys from her and opening the door for my aunt. I’d begged my mom to let me take driver’s ed in Utah with the rest of my class, and she reluctantly agreed. I aced the test and got my license shortly before we moved back to New York. I had only driven my aunt’s car once. “Thanks!”

  After she gives me directions to get on the highway heading to her house, I start to recognize some of my surroundings. “So, Will, how are you and your mom getting along?”

  “Fine,” I answer vaguely.

  “Fine, as in better than you were when you were here, or…”

  I glance at my aunt quickly out of the corner of my eye. “The same.”

  “So not so fine, then,” she laments.