The Beautiful Truth

** 3

"Yo man, are you coming with us, or not?" somebody's voice shot into his awareness. It was really more of a command than a question, but still he took his time. He figured he at least had that much power. He was the quarterback.

He was supposed to be the leader of this team, but as a freshman, he felt lucky they even listened to the play he called half of the time. Talyn sighed and took one last look at the Michael's Mistress MySpace page he'd surfed to after reading Sawyer's Facebook status.

Despite having a lead singer that looked like an All-American 'surf bro,' the band must have been pretty legit: Sawyer had made some of their lyrics her Facebook status half way through their concert. At least he knew she'd been able to do so because of the iPhone he'd given her last week.

It was a small consolation. He snapped his MacBook Pro shut, and followed his teammates into the night. He really hated that, going out in LA, it was necessary to wear a button-down shirt every time he wanted a beer. He really loved that, however, he never had to pay for a beer when he went out with the team. No one even asked for his ID. 'Royalty-in-Training,' Sawyer had called him.

As usual, they ended up in some crowded club. He couldn't lie, though—it was definitely nice to have something to do. Had he gone to Oklahoma, he'd most likely be planning to tip cows later on that night. Talyn figured he'd done enough of that during his high school days, and in hindsight he felt kind of guilty about that -- knocking over a peacefully sleeping animal in the dark...his thoughts digressed. Sigh.

What he really wanted, though, was to be out on Airport Road in Pontiac, Oklahoma, lying on his back in the bed of his old truck, passing a joint back and forth with Sawyer.

Later that night, when he finally met up with Hadley, the girl he'd been flirting with for weeks, he really let his mind wander. He kissed her goodnight, yeah, despite the fact that he was pretty sure some paparazzi were following him and his MTV reality star date, and he put her in a cab back to her Beverly Hills apartment. In his mind, he wasn't kissing some snarky blond—he was kissing a very specific brunette. Her eyes weren't big and brown, they were sparkling, sad, bright blue. And she didn't know nothing about the one thing in life he loved almost as much as her...

He didn't love Hadley Catalano at all. Maybe it was the alcohol, but the thought of such an impossibility made him laugh himself to sleep.