by Kasie West
“Have you called Evan yet?” Amber asked. “We should invite him over. Let’s do something fun tonight.”
“I have to work tomorrow and I’m super tired,” I said. “It’s been a long week.” I knew I needed to talk to Evan alone before we had a group date of any sort. I had to tell him that I wasn’t feeling it. My heart wasn’t in it. When my heart could let go of Braden, maybe I’d be more open to something with someone else. But I was in no place to date anyone right now.
“Well, we still have time before school starts. Maybe he can take us out on the boat next week.”
“It’ll have to be before the big end-of-the-summer party.” Braden squeezed my knee, sending a zap of electricity through my body, and then moved his hand back to his own lap. I must’ve gasped at the feeling, because he looked at me with a furrowed brow.
It’s nothing, Braden, just every time you touch me, my body reacts, that’s all. I stood. “Good to see everyone, but I’m going to take a nap now.” And get away from Braden.
Braden grabbed my arm and pulled me back down next to him. “No. We haven’t seen you in a week. You have to stay down here.”
“I’m tired.”
“Go to sleep then.”
“I was trying to.”
“No. Right here.”
“Yeah,” Gage piped in. “Don’t leave us.”
“Oh my gosh, you guys turned into babies when I left. Fine. I’ll stay.”
Braden reached behind him and retrieved one of the throw pillows. I positioned it on the arm of the couch and lay down. In the past, I would’ve thrown my legs over his, but I couldn’t. It seemed so obvious now. He’d know if I did that.
He, obviously not worried about appearances, dragged my legs onto his lap. “See, nice and comfortable.”
I hoped he couldn’t feel the change in my breathing in response to his action. I wasn’t sure I could sleep at all now.
Chapter 32
Rain beat against the windows and the wind howled. I knew it was a dream, I knew exactly what dream it was, and yet I couldn’t wake up. My mind was paralyzed as it waited for the final element to come into play—my mom. Only this time, she didn’t show up in my room like she always did. Instead, I was transported into her car. In the backseat as it careened along the road, seeming to blow back and forth with the wind.
Outside was only blackness. I couldn’t see the scenery, only red rain pounding the windows. I didn’t want to be in the car. For the first time, I noticed my mom’s face was streaked with tears. She was crying. Sobbing.
I couldn’t feel the car tumbling, but I saw the world spin—my mom’s arms fly in the air, glass fan out in a pattern around us, its sharp edges sparkling—and then everything was still. The rain was gone, the glass was gone, and all I could see in between the front seats was my mom’s pale arm, limp and red with blood. I screamed.
My eyes popped open to silence, my jaws clamped together. It took me three counts to remember where I was. Braden still sat there, trapped by my legs. But everyone else was gone. Laughter came from the kitchen and I realized Gage and Amber were in there. I took several deep breaths to try to even out my breathing.
It wasn’t until Braden squeezed my hand that I became aware he was holding it. I quickly let go and sat back, wiping the sweat from my face.
“Talk to me,” Braden said. “Were you having a nightmare?”
“Yes.”
“About your mom?”
“Yes.” I hugged my knees to my chest and stared at the space on the cushion between us. “There’s not much to talk about. It was just a dream.” And I was sure that my mom was crying in it this time because of how much I had cried today. Dreams were weird like that.
He took several deep breaths. “When you were ten, you opened your window, popped out the screen, and climbed onto your roof. Do you remember that?”
I thought back, wondering why he was bringing this up. “Yes.”
“Were you scared at all, Charlie? Because I remember when we all discovered you after hours of searching the neighborhood, you were just sitting there, acting like it was nothing big.”
“I don’t remember feeling much of anything. Maybe I was a little scared.”
“Do you remember why you climbed out there?”
“No. Why, do you know?”
“Yes.”
I finally met his eyes and the look of pity there sent a jolt of fear through me. “Why? Why are you looking at me like that? Why are you telling me this?”
He grabbed my hand and held it tight in his. This made me more afraid. “Do you remember your dad and your brothers wanted to have a talk with you? About your mom?”
“My mom?” I thought back, trying to piece together the fragments of my ten-year-old memory. I remembered running up the stairs to get to my room. I remembered climbing out my window and onto the roof. I didn’t remember why, though. My head pounded as I pushed my thoughts. My dad had sat me on the couch and started talking about my mom. I do remember my head got fuzzy and my ears felt like they were filled with cotton. I had needed air. That was why I had climbed out my window. “What was he trying to tell me?”
Braden’s voice became soft, his thumb making circles on the back of my hand. “Your dad wanted to tell you what really happened to your mom that night.”
“When she got in a car accident?”
He looked at me hard. “You really don’t remember what he said? If you don’t, Charlie, it’s not my place to say. I just thought you remembered and you needed someone to talk to about it. I thought that’s why you’ve been having the nightmares.”
A gray-haired man with glasses flashed in my mind. I was sitting in a chair with my feet dangling off. I must’ve been young. He had me draw pictures. I drew rain and glass. Red rain. I squeezed my eyes shut. The image of a pale, lifeless hand filled the blackness. “Tell me.”
“Shh. It’s okay.” He pulled me against his chest, and that’s when I felt the moisture on my cheeks. I wiped it away quickly, embarrassed by its presence.
“You’re so strong, Charlie. You’ll remember. I’ll be here when you do.”
Part of me wanted to beg him to tell me. The other part, the part that was still embarrassed by the tears in my eyes, wanted to shut it out and never think of it again. Wanted to get in a car and speed away from my past. His heart beat against my cheek in a steady rhythm. Every beat drew me closer to him. Soon his hand started making lazy circles on my back. This was the definition of torture, I was sure of it—loving someone who only wanted to be your friend.
“I want to know,” I finally said. I felt like I could handle anything with him there.
“Then you need to talk to your dad.”
“He’s working a late shift. I won’t see him until after I work tomorrow. Can’t you tell me?”
“I can’t. It’s not my place.”
Another loud laugh came from the kitchen, and I felt Braden’s gaze shift to the door. I wondered if he wished he were in there with Amber. If he was nervous about Gage spending time with her. The thought was enough to sit me up straight, pushing away from Braden.
“I’m good,” I said, wiping my eyes to make sure they were free of any traces of tears. “I think I’m just really tired. It was a long week.”
“So you probably don’t want to play soccer this afternoon? Your brother organized a game.” He was trying to make me feel better. He thought soccer would help. And it normally would’ve, but right now I wanted to call my dad and find out what everyone seemed to be keeping from me. “I’m sorry. You have a lot to process right now.”
I forced a smile. “Stop reading me. It’s creepy.”
“But you’re like a book. I told you, I know more about you than you know about me.”
Our eyes met. His reference to our fence chats, thrown out there so blatantly during the middle of the day, made my cheeks go hot for a moment. And what was he trying to say with that statement? That he knew what I discovered at camp? That my feelings for him were
plainly written all over my face?
Amber’s laugh brought us out of our eye-lock. She poked her head into the room. “Braden, Gage is doing it again. Come beat him up.”
More inside jokes that I wasn’t part of. I stood abruptly. “I need to sleep more.”
Braden grabbed my wrist. “Fence tonight?”
I gave the smallest nod and then went upstairs.
Chapter 33
I played with the edge of the quilt on my bed. I’d tried to call my dad several times, but he must’ve been busy, because the call went straight to voice mail. I didn’t feel like this was something I could leave in a message.
Braden hadn’t said a time to meet out at the fence. It was midnight now. Everyone was asleep. But Braden’s room was dark as well. I clutched my cell phone close and lay down, waiting for his text or for my dad to call me back.
The next thing I knew, a ray of sunlight was shining in my eyes. I sat up and looked at the clock on my nightstand. Crap, I was going to be late for my first day back to work. I searched my bed for the cell phone and found it wrapped in the covers. The screen was blank, no missed texts. He must’ve fallen asleep as well last night. Or maybe he had been out with Amber.
On the way down the hall, I poked my head into my dad’s room. He was out cold. I resisted the urge to wake him up, make him talk. But I was already late. It would have to wait a little longer. It had waited years, apparently; what was a few more hours?
“Charlie. Welcome back.” Linda gave me a hug. “Did you have fun?”
“It was nice.”
“You look like you got some sun.”
“Beach running.”
“Ah. If only I could be in as good shape as you are.”
“What are you talking about, Linda? You could kick my trash any day of the week.”
Linda laughed and swatted her hand through the air.
“I’m going to change.”
In the back room, I slipped into my work clothes. They felt comfortable now, even normal. Maybe it was my body I was more comfortable with. My body that I’d been trying to hide behind baggy clothes for years. I was bigger than other girls—taller, stronger—but that wasn’t a bad thing.
I came back out and didn’t see him at first, standing in the corner. Not until Linda nodded her head to the side. I looked at Evan. He checked the price tag of a necklace on a mannequin.
“Hey, Evan.”
He turned and smiled, his eyes lighting up. “You’re back and you didn’t even call me.”
“I was so tired yesterday. Sorry.” I looked at Linda and she nodded, seeming to read my mind. “Do you want to talk in the back for a minute?”
“Sure.”
I led him to the stockroom. “Do you want something to drink? There’s water.”
“No. I’m good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“We need to talk,” we both said at the same time.
He laughed. “Go ahead.”
“No, you go first.”
“Okay.” He looked at the ground then back up at me. I suddenly remembered what he had tried to talk about before I left for basketball camp: our relationship. He opened his mouth.
“I better go first,” I blurted out.
He laughed. “Sure.”
“I’m . . .” Wow, this was hard. I’d never done this before, and I felt bad. I didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, I knew I couldn’t be with him. My heart just wasn’t in it, and that wasn’t fair to him. Between the supposedly huge secret I needed to pry out of my dad and my feelings for Braden, I couldn’t string Evan along like this. “I’m in a weird place.”
He seemed to sense what was happening and his entire demeanor changed. His eyes became guarded. “Are you breaking up with me?” He seemed shocked. Like this had never happened to him before.
“I . . .” Had we been together? “Yes. I’m sorry. I need to figure things out. Maybe in a few months, when I’m in a better place . . .”
A booming voice sounded from the main room and Evan turned around. “What was that?”
“I don’t know.” I listened and the voice came back, angry. “Oh no. It’s my dad.”
“Your dad?”
I ran down the hall but paused right before the sales floor, wanting to know what he was upset about before barreling in there.
“She’s sixteen years old,” he said.
I couldn’t hear Linda’s response.
“I did not give her permission to do this! You should not have let her.”
Nathan must’ve told him about my makeup sessions. I needed to get out there and smooth things over. Only when I entered the room, still unnoticed by either my dad or Linda, I saw how my dad really found out. He held—and was angrily waving—the ad from the bridal store in Linda’s face. Oh no.
And now I could finally hear her. “This is not my ad, sir. You’re going to have to ask your daughter about this.”
“But she did this makeup stuff for you, too.”
“Yes. She got permission from your wife.”
I tried to open my mouth to interject, but before I could, my dad spit out, “My wife is dead.”
I gasped, and both he and Linda turned toward me.
“Charlie, we are leaving. Now,” he growled, then marched out the door.
I could feel Evan over my left shoulder, breathing. He was probably glad he was on his way out of my life after that.
In front of me, Linda just stared. She looked hurt and angry. I guess I wouldn’t have to quit now. Linda would ask me to leave.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.
She looked to the door, where my dad had left. “You’d better go.”
I nodded, unable to find any excuse to make this better, and I followed after my dad.
He paced in front of his police car. I headed for the car I’d driven.
“No,” he said, and pointed to the passenger side.
“But . . .”
He pointed again, more forcefully, so I climbed in. The police radio was in the middle of a broadcast, and he turned it down and started the car. “We need to talk.”
“I’m sorry. She asked me about Mom, and I didn’t want to tell another person that she was dead. I didn’t want her feeling sorry for me. I wasn’t thinking. It was stupid.”
He backed out of the parking spot and started to drive.
“I didn’t know the bridal store was going to put out that ad. If I’d known, I would’ve asked you if it was okay.”
My dad pulled into a parking lot at the beach, turned off the car, and then stared through the front window at the ocean. He wasn’t talking, and that was unnerving. I waited for him to explode like he had in the store, but he just sat there, eerily calm. Probably because I was confessing everything without him having to say a word. And there was something else I needed to confess, something I’d been in denial about, something I’d been running from for years. I was done running. I heard it come out of my mouth and hang in the air before I even thought about how I was going to word it: “I want to know what happened the night Mom died.”
Chapter 34
He wasn’t expecting that request. I could tell by the way the color drained from his face. “Okay. What exactly do you want to know?”
“What happened that night? There’s something more than you’re telling me.”
“Charlie, I’ve tried to talk to you about this before. You weren’t ready. It nearly broke you.”
“I’m ready now.” I said it confidently, even though I felt everything but.
“There’s no easy way to say this.” He raked a hand through his hair as if trying to prove his statement. “Your mother . . .” He hesitated. “She was very sick.”
My ears started to buzz and my head felt fuzzy, just like it had when I was ten. I wasn’t going to let that stop me this time. “I don’t understand.”
He took my hand, his grip soft but sure. His eyes went glassy and that terrified me. I held my breath.<
br />
“It wasn’t an accident.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. What that single sentence implied was something I didn’t want to accept. “How do you know?”
“She left a note.”
Like a tidal wave, everything made sense. My mom was depressed. I knew this. It’s why I had no memories of her as a child—she wasn’t around. She didn’t want to be.
The police radio crackled in my ear and my dad flipped a switch, turning it off. The dashboard of the car pushed against my forehead, and I tried to press against it harder, hoping the pain would rid me of the thoughts.
“Charlie.”
I shook my head back and forth.
“Charlie. You knew this. Come here.” He pulled me against his chest. “You’ve known this. Breathe. It’s going to be okay.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t sure it was ever going to be okay again. My mom left me. On purpose.
My dad smelled like . . . my dad—a cross between a musky cologne and cinnamon gum. This was the smell of my entire childhood. He was my childhood. My life. I remembered him at every important event, every unimportant event. All the places she never was.
He shifted a little, his hand moving to wipe at his face. I didn’t want to look up and see if that meant he was crying. I couldn’t face seeing his pain when mine was already too unbearable. But I didn’t have to look up; I heard it in his voice when he said, “And she almost took you with her.”
That statement had me sitting up faster than I intended, blood rushing up the back of my head. “I was in the car.” I had realized that right away, but I hadn’t put the pieces together. No wonder I’d been trying to deny this my whole life. The dreams. The way I could picture that car spinning, glass flying, so perfectly. Her hand lying there limp in front of me. It wasn’t just a dream. It was a memory.
“She didn’t know,” he said quickly. “You snuck into the car. You were supposed to be in bed.”
I let out a little breath. At least she didn’t try to take me with her. That thought didn’t help at all. But it was something, and right now I felt a whole lot of nothing. I was numb.
It was a quiet drive back to the shop, where we’d left the other car. My dad kept opening his mouth to say something and then shutting it again. Eventually he spit out, “You have questions. What are they?”
