This is for missvalover94's contest. Its obviously a one shot inspired from the song more than a memory by garth brooks. check it out and let me know what you think! as for my other stories im almost on christmas break so UDs on them should be coming soon! hold in there lovelies! :D R&R PLEASE!
I downed shot after shot, not caring that I looked like hell froze over and thawed back out. Nothing could make me care. Couples walked past me, pair after pair. Taunting me, pointing out that I was alone. And would be.
"Hey man."Christian slapped a hand on my back as he sat down in front of me, his girlfriend beside him. I nodded to Lissa, knowing I couldn't open my mouth, because I would ask the question that would be my downfall. How is she? I was dying to know. I lived with her, and still had no communication with her. She wouldn't look at me. Not a cold glare, filled with malice and hate for what I had done.
It was my fault. I had kissed Tasha, a mistake. Tasha was a friend that went way back, and I had known she liked me more than I her. I just didn't do anything about it.
College was great. It had been. I was on the football team, complete popularity. Everyone wanted to be me. The girl that completed me was on the rodeo team. A barrel racer. Everyone questioned why she was good enough, just some backwoods barbie. She came to St. Vlad's on a scholarship. She was damn good. Won almost every time, if not she placed. Her horse Duke was a boss. She was the quiet type. Stay out of my way I'll stay out of yours. She came from a father that left early on and a mother who disapproved of her passion for rodeos. She was always told she wasn't good enough. I thought I was the one who would save her from herself, show her how great she was. Obviously not.
We had dated for quit some time, 10 months to be exact. We were perfect for one another. My linebacker and best friend since middle school, Chris, was dating her cousin. Everything was perfect. She did everything or me. My laundry, pitched in extra for my part of the bills, fixed me supper, everything a man would want.
Then that night happened. She was away in Vegas. One of the most important rodeos in her life and I got mad at her for not being here for the championship game. She was in finals. We won, she got the buckle. She was so happy. I was alone. The team went to the bar to celebrate. Tasha, being on the cheer squad was there. I was pissed, drunk, and felt like she cared about running barrels and her damn horse more than me.
I ordered Tasha a few rounds, got her drunk, played on her feelings. We went back to our house that we rented with Chris and Liss on the outskirts of campus. I gave Tasha what she wanted and what I knew would piss HER off. I was stupid and jealous and mad. I ruined everything we had built. Tasha left. But Tasha bragged. SHE figured out after a week what happened. She was devastated. Heartbroken. The look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. She would never trust me again. Never trust men again. I had her heart. And I threw it on the ground and stomped on it. Spitting in her face as I did so.
People had began to talk. Some saying how it was about time, others scolding me, saying she was the best thing that had happened to me, explaining all the reason I should have been smarter. It surrounded me like water, smothering me, not giving me any mercy. I often wondered how SHE was handling the gossip. She always preferred to lay low, not bring attention to herself. Well I screwed that up to. Congratulations your a fuck up Belikov.
I would attend the awards ceremony alone. Tasha has been spreading that she was going with me. No. I was going alone. That's how it was going to be from now on. Alone. The word reverberated around inside of my skull, like an echo from a mountain top. I would be starred at and gawked at. Some girls would think this was an invitation, a signaling of me being a bachelor again. Not hardly. The thought of another woman in my bed made me sick to my stomach.
I was glad the season was over, there was no hope for concentration. Not when my mind was filled with memories of her and I. She had insisted I rode Duke once. I think that was at my expense. I missed those times. She had said, "Just hold on, he'll do the rest." You could imagine how that turned out. I hit every barrel, bruises on my legs were proof of that. I had no clue how she made it look so easy. She was more of a woman than Tasha ever would be. So kind, strong, brilliant, talented. I could keep going forever.
Everyday I would see her walking to the rodeo part of campus that was located close to the stadium where we had workouts everyday. It killed me. Her shoulders were hunched, face blank. Along with on campus it killed me seeing her at home. It was her home to but sometimes I wish it wasn't. Selfish I know. But I wasn't this strong. She had a very good poker face. She acted like it didn't effect her at all. I knew it did. Everyday when I lay in my bed I see her face after she found out. Stricken with grief, overflowing with heartache. The bags under my eyes were proof of that. I didn't know how I would ever be the same again, how I could ever go back. With these memories floating around. But it was more than that. So much more. The feelings are still there. Sometimes when I wake up in the mornings I swear she's beside me. My Roza.
You look like hell and you just don't care
Drinking more than you ever drank
Sinking down lower than you ever sank
When you find yourself falling down upon your knees
Praying to God and begging Him please
That's when she's more than a memory