With This Heart(60)

[page]CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO





“ She said he had ‘the biggest heart’?” Beck asked with a raised brows.

“ Technically she said ‘everyone said he had the biggest heart’, so it almost doesn’t count,” I clarified, wiping my hands with the napkin. We were tucked away in a booth at a random dive bar in Odessa.

The folder’s contents were lying out before us, beckoning me to start investigating. I hadn’t wanted to read them until the food was cleared from the table for fear that we’d spill something on the last connection I had with Colby.

There were three newsletters in total. The first two had front pages that were centered on community festivals or school sports, but the last one had a large black and white photo of a boy on the front cover: Colby. It was clearly his school picture. It had that cloudy staged backdrop and he didn’t have a real smile, just a cheesy fake one. Underneath, in large title casing it read: “A Neighborhood Loses One of Its Greatest.” I tried not to dwell on the headline.

“ I competed in UIL competitions for headline writing,” Beck offered after finishing a drink of his beer. I guess he’d seen the newsletter as well.


I furrowed my brows in confusion, glancing up at him in the dim lighting. He’d dropped his hand on the table and was running his fingers through his sexy mussed-up hair.

“ Headlines as in newspaper headlines?” I asked with a bemused smile.

“ Yeah.”

A half-smile still peeked through my teasing. “Who does that?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Cynical Girl Misjudges Brawny Hero.”

I threw my head back and cracked up. “Wait, where is the alliteration?”

Beck nodded and quickly made amends. “Cynical Girl Cuts-down Cute…”

“ Cunt,” I interjected.

“ That.” He pointed the rim of his beer toward me and narrowed his eyes. “Look at that. Very creative, Ms. Mae. Would have loved to have you on my UIL team.”

“ So did you win?” I asked with a hidden smile.

“ What a Boar! Slumbering Swine Snoozes, Loses State Championship,” he recited animatedly, swiping his hand across the air as if reading off a marquee. You would have thought the competition had taken place earlier that morning rather than four years prior.

I couldn’t stop laughing. It was just too much. “You won with that?”

“ Women threw their underwear on stage when I recited that headline.” He grinned, sipping his beer.

“ Spare me.”

“ What did you do in high school?” he asked as I reached for the first newsletter.

“ Nothing,” I answered.

“ Nothing?” he rubbed his chin.

“ No. My parents pulled me out when I was a junior. When it looked like I wouldn’t get the transplant,” I clarified, remembering how somber my timeline had looked then. “Before that I wasn’t really involved in anything.” I shrugged and started flipping through the newsletter. Beck took a different one and we started working in silence, scouring the pages for any mention of Colby’s name.

I kept flipping through, seeing one cliché small town thing after another: Bake Sale, Founder’s Day carnivals, Town Hall meetings. Then finally I saw a tiny section of sports that covered everything from Odessa elementary to Odessa High School. There was a tiny, grainy photo at the bottom of the page that looked like an action shot from a basketball game. I skimmed the article underneath until I found his name. “ Colby Brubaker leads varsity basketball team to winning season.” To my dismay, i t was impossible to discern which of the tiny pixilated bodies was his in the photo.

“ This one mentions his basketball achievements. I guess he was pretty good.” I pointed to the article so that Beck could read it as well. I couldn’t help but wonder how he died. He seemed like a really healthy kid.

Beck nodded, pressing his finger down to mark a spot on the newsletter. “I found something about his work with the National Honor Society. Apparently he set up a blood drive for the high school three years in a row.”

I nodded appreciatively and grabbed the newsletter in the center. This is what I wanted. I wanted Colby to be a quasi-super hero, right? But to be honest, in that moment, when I found out that Colby was, in fact, a much better contributor to society than I could ever hope to be, I felt like shit. It was the same feeling that washed over me when I found out Caroline had died. If given a vote, would people have chosen Colby’s life over mine?

My hands fell to my lap and I stared down at where they rested on top of my blue sundress. I picked the chipping red polish off my thumb nail, contemplating the peacefulness that comes with defeat. I could let a ghost haunt my life forever, or I could make the decision to carry him with me, not as a burden, but as a talisman.

I didn’t bother reading about how Colby died. Two minutes prior, I would’ve done anything to know the details of his life, but now? Now there was no point in dwelling on the fact that this poor guy had passed away. I needed to use his heart the way he would’ve wanted it to be used.

Without consulting Beck, I slid out of the booth and hunted down a bartender.

“ Do you guys do karaoke here?” I asked with a shaky voice. My hand was fidgeting with the hem of my dress as I attempted to meet his dark beady eyes.