‹ Prequel: Trouble-Maker
Sequel: Summer Boy

Infinite

Returning to Reality

Chance led me across the lawn to his car and I carefully dropped down into the sporty, sculptured chair. His car had the same sleek multi-toned interior as the Escalade did. While it mostly centered around black there were sleek shades between that and light gray that accented it nicely. The smaller build and design was more like mine, however; with just enough room to fit Arch's seat in the backseat.

We pulled away from the curb and down into the flow of traffic that surrounded the strip. It was mid day and people were heading in every direction as we tried to get away. I took a moment to compose myself and Chance didn't ask if I was alright. It was obvious how I felt, due to my reaction and my words, but I was grateful that he didn't have anything to say, let alone any snappy comment.

Instead, he rambled slightly about his car, trying to fill the quiet space with comfortable chatter. "I basically rebuilt it myself," he said, "It was a piece of shit when I bought it, but I replaced just about everything in it."

"That's impressive. I don't know a thing about cars or how to fix them. I used to just take mine to Everret's downtown," I answered, "They actually know me by name now."

"I'm sure they missed you when you adopted the Cadillac," he joked playfully, "But really, if you ever need someone to take a look at it, just let me know."

I smiled and nodded. "I'll probably be bothering you a lot then," I said honestly, "That car can't seem to keep it together."

He grinned at me from the driver's seat and then turned his light eyes back to the highway as he spoke, "I could just take a look at it tonight. I have to drop you and Arch off anyway."

I was just about to reply when my cell phone jolted us from conversation. Instantly, I fumbled to get it from my bag. "Speak of the devil…" I trailed off, my words untrue as I observed the name and photograph on the screen.

Chance glanced over to it when I went quiet, and then met my eyes. "What a coincidence," he said, "Of course he just happens to call the day you're at his house."

I ignored his sarcasm. "I should answer it."

"You better do it if you're going to do it. It's going to shuck him to your voice mail in a minute," he replied indifferently, "Although, I think you're better off ignor-"

I slid the bar across the screen and lifted the little machine to my ear, bracing myself for the sound of his voice as Chance rolled his eyes and stopped talking. "Hey, Ronnie. How are you?" I asked, already cringing.

"Atticus, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Ronnie, can't you act like an adult? Please, I don't need you ma-"

"I don't care what you need right now!" he exploded, "You took all my stuff to my dad's? And you brought along some other guy?" he asked incredulously, angrily. "I can't believe you." There was static on the line as he shuffled, obviously on the bus from the sound of it. Then a door slammed and it was quiet. I spoke before he could.

"We're not together anymore, Ronnie," I replied in a much more relaxed tone, "I can't keep borrowing your car. It was different before, but now I can't. And who I'm with is none of your business anymore. Chance was doing me a favor."

"Well, I sure as hell have a say in who you take into my father's house," he replied, "And I don't appreciate you showing up like that with some asshole following behind you. I just can't believe you right now." His words went from anger to hurt the more he spoke. His last sentence was one of honest disbelief and I could feel the pain he tried to cover up with anger.

"Ronnie," I sighed, tucking my hair back as I leaned towards the window, my eyes closing as I tried to drudge up the right words. "I'm sorry," I relented, unsure of what else I could say.

"That's not good enough, Att," he responded sounding incredibly hurt, "I can't even picture you with someone else right now. This is seriously not happening to us."

"Ronnie, please don't," I replied, "I can-"

"I'm coming home," he interrupted, "I just can't do this from the bus right now. I don't know how I can make you fucking see that we're supposed to be together. It's like you've forgotten everything. It's killing me, Atti."

"Don't come home," I answered as I blinked towards the sky, "You can't do that to everyone. You have the guys and your fans to think about. You can't just run out on them."

"My entire fucking world is falling apart, Atticus, and you want me to stay here and let it happen? I can't do that," he answered, "I just can't. I love you, I fucking love you. I can't let you push me away."

"I can't let this happen," I said as I shut down everything I was feeling, "It's not going to work. Please don't come home, I won't see you if you do. Just stay there and take care of things. Be an adult, don't let everyone down."

"Atti, you can't do this."

"Ronnie, stop, we're not together anymore. I have to go."

I listened to the sound of his voice as he told me he loved me again and I hung up the phone just before he repeated himself, practically begging me to see it the way he did and remember the way I felt before now. It wasn't hard to remember back to the days we spent cooped up in the tour bus or the moments when I couldn't help but just look at him because I felt so lucky to have him by my side.

I felt that way still. I would never outgrow the awe that he could instill in me and I would never be able to move on because I fell for him so deeply and wholly. But I couldn't let my wants hinder his dreams. I wouldn't be the downfall or the regret in his life. I wouldn't allow myself to hold him back in the slightest and if it took removing myself from the equation for him to succeed, then I would do it. Even if it killed me.

I wanted things that would ruin his career. And I knew that he would give them to me. He would give me the world even if it meant losing everything else.

I dropped my phone back down into my bag and sat still for a moment, trying to bring myself back to reality. "I'm sorry about that," I said to the twenty year old sitting in the driver's seat next to me, "I didn't really mean for you to hear any of it."

He shrugged, his eyes never leaving the road. "It's fine. Breakups are messy. I get it. Don't worry about it."

There was this sick sort of cramping in my stomach that made me almost heave at the acknowledgement of it and I tightened my jaw and breathed air in through my nose. I pressed my fingers into my forehead and nodded as I composed myself. "Nothing is ever easy when Ronnie doesn't get what he wants."

Chance nodded also, his attention fixed ahead of him. "Yeah, well this doesn't really seem to be what you want either," he said.

I couldn't find the words to deny his accusations.

"That's what I thought," he answered softly, "It's fine. I don't know why you're doing this, but if it's something you have to do then I won't question you."

"Thanks," I said, "It's not really something I can explain."

He nodded, reaching for his cell phone the cup-holder. "How much longer do you think we have until we get back into California?" His eyes dropped to the screen of his phone as he unlocked it.

"What are you doing?" I asked, snatching it from him, "Stop texting."

He looked playfully surprised that I took his phone away. "I'm not," he said with laughter, "I was just going to pick a song." He lifted up the short black cord that was plugged into the dash and handed it over.

I fiddled with the white, slender cell phone until I found the music player and I scrolled through it, looking at his obviously strange taste in music. "What is this crap?" I questioned, peering at him as I thumbed through the artists.

"Hey now," he replied as he pulled his phone from my fingers and locked it, allowing some song to play through the car, "I don't critique your taste in music."

"That's because I actually have somewhat decent taste," I answered, listening as the rappers started, talking their usual worthless nonsense.

"Some music is just for fun, Atticus," Chance answered, "There's plenty on there that's better than this. PC, for example." He glanced at the road and reached for his phone to turn it to the band that had introduced us.

We listened to the random accumulation of songs on his phone as he headed into the town and I directed him to Arch's daycare. He whistled loudly when we pulled up to it, grinning as he gave me his usual look. "What a school," he commented, "Looks like someone is already getting a top-notch education."

"Yeah, you know all about that, don't you?" I replied, grinning back at him as I climbed out of the low car, "Stay here, I'll be right back."

I hurried inside and retrieved Arch from one of his little classes. He was glad to see me, but surprised by the absence of the Escalade. I helped him into the backseat and buckled him in as he chattered to Chance.

"Did you take Atti to see Ronnie?" he asked, his eyes wide as he stared at the two of us.

"Arch, I just took Ronnie's car to Russell's," I said, "I told you that this morning. Chance is just giving us a ride home. Ronnie isn't even in California, baby."

"But I miss him," he replied as he furrowed his little eyebrows, "When is he coming home?" He crossed his arms and leaned back against his familiar car-seat. The entire situation was strange to both of us, but only at the age of five, Arch didn't understand why he was being forced away from the man who had become his bestfriend. All he knew was that he wanted to be with Ronnie and he couldn't be. No reasoning could break him of that sadness.

"It's just you and me, Arch," I answered, unsure of what else to say, "We'll be alright."

I turned around to face the front as Chance drove out of the school parking lot. I couldn't look at Arch's confused expression any longer. It was the look in his eyes that added to what I was trying so hard not to feel.

"You know, you can just come back tomorrow and take a look at the car," I told Chance as we pulled into the empty-seeming driveway about twenty minutes later, "It's already kind of late."

"Well, I've got a late lunch with my mom tomorrow," he replied as he shut off the engine, Charlie's barking from inside the house the only sound, "but I might be able to stop by afterwards. Does three-thirty-ish work for you?"

I nodded slowly while I thought. "I don't think we're doing too much tomorrow," I answered, "Maybe just a couple errands around noon, but nothing much."

He grinned and dipped his head in a nod. "Then I'll come by tomorrow."

"Thanks for the ride," I said genuinely and quietly. Arch was just beginning to clunk out in the back. "It's definitely going to make things easier. It's just all the constant reminders of him that get to us."

"Don't even worry about it," Chance responded, "It was quite an adventure. Thanks for letting me in on your life." His smile left his face and he pulled his lip between his teeth.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and smiled at the twenty-year old. "Thanks again," I said. I leaned across the center and pressed my lips against his cheek as he stiffened his posture.

He nodded when I pulled back. His blue eyes found my brown ones and he shrugged. "I'll be here when you need me, Atticus. Whatever the reason, I'm here."

I pretended not to notice the double-entendre. "See you tomorrow." I pushed open the heavy door and moved the seat forward to get Arch out. He woke easily, unable to sleep if jostled even in the slightest. I held him with one arm and tried to grab the car-seat the best I could with the other.

"Do you need help?" Chance questioned, already moving to unbuckle his belt and get out. He stopped and reclicked his belt as I denied his question.

"We're fine," I said, finally yanking the seat out of the backseat, "Thanks. See you tomorrow, Chance." I bumped the door with my body and it closed with an easy slam. Arch wrapped his arms around my neck and I headed around the car to the front door. Chance's headlights cast the shadow of us onto the house as I exchanged the carseat for house keys.

"Are we home, Atti?" Arch asked as I pushed the door open and stepped through, causing Charlie to jump at our feet, showing his excitement loudly.

"Yeah, baby," I answered, kicking the door just behind us as Chance's headlights shone through the window and spun around the room as he turned out of the drive, "Head up to bed, alright? I'll be right there." I set him on his feet and watched as he slowly made his way up the stairs, calling for Charlie to shut up.

I grabbed his shoes from where he kicked them off and put them by the door before getting his carseat off the front steps while I let Charlie out in the back. I shifted out of my jacket and sighed softly, completely exhausted by the day's events and life in general. "Charlie, knock it off," I demanded when I let him back in and he began prancing around the living room, his nails clicking on the hardwood, "Go lay with Arch, go on."

After a minute of composing myself I followed the five year old up the stairs and Charlie followed me as I stepped into his room, grinning as I saw him sprawled out on top of his made bed. "Arch," I chuckled, "Come on, get those jeans off, man. You were wide awake thirty minutes ago."

"I'm tired." His words were muffled by his pillow.

"Well, roll over, I'll help you." I helped change him into clothes that were more comfortable for bed and then tucked him into his sheets, promising that things would get easier as he fell back to sleep.

I stared at how different the room had become since he came into my life. It used to be a regular guest room with a large bed, two nightstands, and a closet that was used for my own storage rather than clothes. Now it had become Arch's entirely. His toy chest was pushed up under the window and his TV was mounted on the wall above the low shelf that held his DVD player. Toys took up more floor than anything else, and his clothes were bunched up at the end of his little bed.

His nightlight was plugged into the outlet under the window next to Charlie's hardly-used dog bed and the photo of his father hung just over his bed, next to the dream-catcher and pictures that he'd drawn of his new life. On the stand next to his bed was his lamp, and next to that was a frame that held the image of Arch, Ronnie, and I. We looked like some imperfect version of a perfect family. We were happy and Arch was beaming as the two of us held him up.

I moved my eyes from it and leaned down to press a kiss against Arch's light hair. "I love you, Arch. Sweet dreams, sweetheart."

I left the little boy's room and went into my own, stripping out of my clothes and replacing them with a tank and shorts before I climbed into my own bed, reveling in the feel of the cool sheets and the idea of sleeping away the memories that couldn't seem to leave me alone. Charlie climbed up and dropped down against my body.

I turned the volume to silent on my phone and tucked it under my other pillow, hoping that for one night I could sleep dreamless and remember nothing of the life I was living.