When We Fall
Page 21
But Bennett doesn't blink. He meets my stare, unrelenting, his brow cocked as if to challenge me to deny what he said.
If I'm being honest, I don't know if I can.
"I see you've been watching chick flicks again," Jamie drawls. Then turns serious and cuts his eyes to me. "But I have to say he's right. You're the only one keeping yourself away from Sawyer. No one asked you to break up with her."
Giovanni nods in agreement. "You should go to her. It's not too late to fix it."
A muscle in my jaw pulses once again as my hand tightens around the wine I haven't bothered to drink. Instead of answering them, I set the drink down and move up to my feet, making a beeline for the door.
"Hey, where you off to?" Bennett calls after me, but I ignore him and step outside.
I have to get out of the room and away from them. Their words are fucking with my brain, making me hope for things I have no business hoping for, causing me to think I made a mistake.
But I damn know I didn't. It was the right thing to do—as much as it had killed me to do so. I'd been selfish enough when I pursued a relationship with her. Trapping her with all my baggage would just be heartless.
Sawyer deserves a guy who can give the world to her. Who can put her on top of everything. Who doesn't have a heavy burden on his shoulders.
I know things will not always be like this. My siblings won't always depend on me. They'll grow up to be independent adults. And the responsibility to look after Mom will be divided among us.
But I can't make Sawyer wait that long. It would've been unfair for her.
And that's what the guys don't understand. They can't comprehend why I can't be with Sawyer when I managed to be with Peyton just fine. But isn't Peyton a stark reminder of what a failure it is to be in a relationship?
Maybe Sawyer will never cheat on me. But she'll grow to resent me and my inability to prioritize her just like Peyton did. She'll hate me even more than she already does.
I can't give her that kind of misery.
*******
Aria is in the kitchen, making a sandwich when I walk in. Glancing up, she smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. It never does these days. The bruises on her face may have already healed, but the emotional scars of what she went through remain.
The urge to take the law into my own hands and retaliate is still strong, and every day is a struggle not to give in. But if there's any consolation, Michael Payne is already facing charges he can't escape. And I'll damn make sure he'll never go anywhere near my sister again.
"Why do you always have that look on your face whenever I'm in the room?"
I go still, tension sitting on my shoulders. "What are you talking about?"
"I've been seeing that look since the hospital. I thought it was because you were worried and stressed about what happened." A frown creases her forehead as she sets down the knife she was holding. "But it's not just it, is it? There's more to it than that."
"Where's Ethan?" I ask instead of giving her an answer, crossing to the fridge to get a cold drink.
"In his room. I made him work on his assignments." Aria watches with narrow eyes as I pour apple juice into a glass. "Why are you deflecting?"
"I'm not deflecting anything." I furrow my brows as suspicion coils in my gut. Did the guys say something to her? Did they ask her to talk to me? My eyes harden. "What's this all about, Aria? Why are we having this conversation?"
"You know it wasn't your fault that M-Michael hurt me, Parker." She swallows hard, her voice quivering at the bastard's name, still clearly shaken by what she went through. "You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened."
I avert my gaze, my jaw clenching tight.
But that's the problem right there. I blame myself for what happened to her. I already knew there was something off about Michael Payne. I should've done something about it. He wouldn't have had the chance to put his hands on her if I did. It could've been avoided.
But instead of paying close attention, I chose to be wrapped up in Sawyer. Lost myself in her to care about anything else. But I'm not blaming her. No, it's all on me. I'm the only one at fault here.
"Some things are bound to happen out of your control. You can't beat yourself up when they do."
That's what Sawyer told me when we were out looking for Mom. Her words echo through my mind, battling my resolve, tempting me to make a different choice.
But seeing my sister on that hospital bed with bruises on her face will always haunt me. It will always serve as a reminder of my failure to protect her. I can't let it happen again.
"There it is again. The look is back on your face," Aria chides.
"Aria—"
"No." She draws in a deep breath. "What that asshole did was not on you. It was all on him and no one else, okay? So stop being so hard on yourself."
"I'm your big brother. I'm supposed to be hard on myself when it comes to all of you."
"But not at the expense of your happiness," she says softly. "Ever since you broke up with Sawyer, you never smile anymore. You're back to being broody, and it seems to be worse than before. Even Ethan has noticed the change in you." She gives me a reprimanding look, as if she's the older sibling in this scenario. "You can't keep making sacrifices for this family, Parker. It's not healthy. It's not fair to you."
I let out a harsh laugh. "Did the guys put you up to this?"
I look in the direction of the gaming room before remembering that they already went home hours ago. Doesn't matter. I'll deal with them tomorrow.
Aria ignores my question. "I think we should put Mom in rehab again. We had a long talk the other day. She wants to give it another try. I think this time her sobriety will stick."
My eyes snap back to her. "What if it doesn't? What if she relapses again?"
Why is she even suggesting this? She knows what happens every time we get our mom into rehab. It always ends in disappointment. And among the three of us, Ethan's the one who takes it the hardest. He's been given plenty of false hopes, only to get disappointed in the end. I can't put him through that anymore.
But I can admit that Mom continues to show some semblance of improvements. She constantly checks up on Aria after learning about the assault, making sure she's okay. Cooking meals for us, like she used to when we were kids. Talking to Ethan about school, like a normal caring mom does.
Still, I'm not sure that those improvements mean that she's willing to undergo treatment. That she's ready to fight her demons and come out as a victor.
"What if it does? We'll never know until we give her a chance to prove herself. But even if she does relapse, we'll deal with it together as a family. The sole responsibility doesn't have to rest on your shoulders anymore."
"Then everything goes to shit and Ethan gets his heart broken again. We can't do that to him."
Aria scoffs. "Like seeing her in her current state isn't already hard for him? How do you think he feels right now?"
I open my mouth then snap it shut. Because it's the truth. It's already distressing our brother to see Mom in that way. He doesn't say it but it shows. My gut even tells me that he somehow blames me for it.
Another failure on my part.
"It'll be fine. We'll figure it out."
My eyes snap back to her. "We?"
"Yes, we," she puts emphasis on the word, folding her arms over her chest. "I may not look like it, but I can handle a little responsibility. You can count on me to help you out. You don't have to do it all by yourself anymore."
I remain silent, conflicting thoughts and emotions going through me. I want to take her up on her offer. To be able to go after what—or who—I want without any hesitation.
Sawyer.
A mix of hope and longing springs, gripping my chest tight, making my breathing ragged. Is it possible?
"I've been doing all of it by myself for a long time," I say in a weary voice.
I don't know how to relinquish some of those responsibilities. I'm not even sure if I can. I'm used
to making things as easy as possible for my siblings, shielding them from the harsh bits. If I let her in on some of it, I won't be able to protect her fully.
Is she ready for that? Am I ready for that?
As if she can read my thoughts, Aria smiles. "Like I said, we'll figure it out."
CHAPTER 36
Sawyer
"So, Mom and Dad are taking my brothers to my grandparents this weekend," Quinn says without preamble, coming up to me just as I'm about to open my locker. "Sleepover at my house?"
"Sure," I shrug absently, pulling the door open, blinking in confusion when a few rose petals fall out. When I look up, I see why.
My locker is stuffed with more than a handful rose petals. They come in varying colors, too: white, pink, red and lavender.
"What the hell?" Quinn blurts next to me, peering inside as well. "Why do you have rose petals in your locker?"
"I don't know," I say, completely dumbfounded. "I didn't put them in there."
"Then who?"
That's exactly what I'm wondering about. Who put the petals in there—and why? Maybe this is some kind of a prank.
I warily glance around, but no one seems to be paying attention to us.
"Wait, I see something." She grabs something underneath the pile. "Huh. It's a greeting card."
A pink greeting card with my name written in the front. Frowning, I take it from Quinn and flip it open.
Forgive me.
I stare at the message, my heart skipping a beat. Parker is the only person I can think of who could be responsible for this. And I'm pretty sure it's his handwriting. Yeah, it had to be him.
But what does it mean? Why is he asking for forgiveness? Suspicion gnaws at me as I stare hard at the card in my hand. Is this a ploy to get back together with me? But he's the one who ended it. Did he change his mind all of a sudden?
"I bet Parker did this. I bet this is his way of telling you he wants you back." Quinn has come to the same conclusion.
But do I really want the same thing? Do I want him back in my life? Even after what he did almost broke me?
Anger and resentment pull at my gut, reminding me that the wound he caused is still fresh. He thinks he could end our relationship and then bring it back because he feels like it. He must be out of his mind.
Slamming my locker shut, I crumple the card in my hand, my face hard. If he thinks he can win me over this way—or at all—he'll be sorely disappointed.
She smirks. "So I'll take that as a nice try?"
"Oh, yeah." My lips form in a thin line as I toss the crumpled card into the nearest trash can. "He can go screw himself."
Quinn laughs lightly as we start to head for class. "That's what I'm talking about. Make him sweat before he gets to the finish line."
She makes it sound like Parker and I are getting back together eventually. Like it's already a done deal.
As if my raging emotions have conjured him, Parker is staring at me a few feet away. He glances at the trash can behind me, a furrow between his brows, telling me he'd seen what I did to the card, confirming what I already know.
I don't care.
We're done.
I make sure to keep my eyes ahead as we walk past him, ignoring the heavy feel of his eyes on my back.
*******
I scowl at the pink rose next to my lunch tray.
I thought stuffing rose petals into my locker was the end of it. But apparently, Parker isn't done yet. Now he's making some guys from the sophomore and junior classes hand me roses during random times: a few times while I was walking down the hall, a couple times during class—where they deliberately interrupt the lecture—another time at my locker, and now even here in the cafeteria.
If he keeps this up, by the end of the day I'll have a full-on bouquet in my hands.
I badly want to approach his table, to tell him to stop playing with my emotions. But that will require me to actually talk to him. Maybe I can just ask Quinn to do it for me. But aside from the fact that it wouldn't feel right, I have a feeling that my best friend would just end up going off on him and attract all the attention.
Not that I'm not getting them now. Parker hasn't been discreet about the whole thing. I don't know how, but it seems like everyone knows that he's the one behind the roses.
I even heard a few girls talking, saying that I shouldn't play "hard to get." That I should be thankful that he wants me back.
Funny how, just yesterday, they were calling me "the girl that's been dumped twice." Quinn almost got into a fight twice because of that.
"The guy's committed, I'll give him that," Quinn comments, shooting Parker a brief glance.
I make the mistake of following her eyes. His gaze snags mine, holding it hostage.
Even with the physical distance and all the people present, it still feels like it's just the two of us inside the cafeteria. Like no one and nothing else matters.
His eyes grow hooded, more intense, as if he's thinking the same thing.
Too bad he broke my heart.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I tear my eyes away.
"But his methods are so cliché. Does he really think he'll win you over this way? He hasn't even talked to you himself. All he does is send sophomore and junior lackeys your way."
"Because it's Parker," Brayden says. "He probably doesn't have a single clue when it comes to wooing girls. Girls come to him, not the other way around."
"It's true." Kyle Hawthorne, who's sitting next to him, nods in agreement. Running his fingers through his shoulder-length brown hair, he adds, "Doesn't he always get love letters and stuff during Valentine's Day?"
"Right?" Brayden grins at his boyfriend, looking like a boy in love and the happiest I've ever seen him.
The two of them have made it official a week ago, and they've been inseparable since. If Kyle isn't sitting here with us, Brayden is with him and his friends. I miss him sometimes, but he's happy, and that's what matters.
"Ugh. You guys are too cute, it's so annoying," Quinn groans. "But, yeah, I guess you're right. Guys like him are like fish out of water when it comes to groveling, so they probably just turn to their equally bumbling friends for help—a.k.a. the Hot Boys Club. And the result? Every cliché method found in romance movies." Smirking, she jabs a finger at me. "Don't be surprised when he ends up serenading you in front of the whole school by the end of the week."
"Dear God." It's my turn to groan. "Please don't let that happen. I don't think I'd be able to live down the embarrassment that would cause me."
Brayden and Kyle give me sympathetic looks.
I sneak a glance toward Parker. He's no longer staring at me, his full attention directed at his friends.
My eyes land on the rose once again as Quinn's words cut into my thoughts. Is that what he's really going to do? Serenade me in front of the whole school?
But that's the thing—some girls like grand gestures. I don't. And Parker should know that about me.
*******
"Peaches."
I stand perfectly still, my hand mere inches from the driver-side door of my Audi, my heart missing a beat.
I thought I'd get home without Parker speaking to me. I waited the whole day for him to approach, to do the talking himself. But all I got were more roses—roses that are currently clenched tight in my hands. If they still had thorns, I'd be bleeding by now.
But even that wouldn't compare to the hurt he'd caused me.
Keeping my back to him, I coldly ask, "What do you want?"
"Can we talk?"
Every fiber in my body wants to say no, to refuse to listen. But there's a voice inside my head telling me to give him a chance, to let him explain his side, to hear him out at least.
My shoulders slump as I give in and whirl around to face him. Why can't I resist this boy?
Still, I don't want him to know that. So I quickly rearrange my features into a hard mask. "What are you doing, Parker?"
He stares at me, longing and det
ermination plainly written across his face that it's making my heart clench. He's not even trying to hide his emotions. "Isn't it obvious?" He swallows hard. "I made a grave mistake. Now, I'm trying to fix it."
I bark out a harsh laugh. "And you thought these roses would do the trick?"
"No." But judging from his slight wince, I can tell he wanted to say yes.
Brayden and Quinn were right. Parker is really clueless. And I can't help but notice how uncomfortable he looks at the moment. As if he doesn't know what to say or how to act in front of me. As if he doesn't have the slightest idea what else to do.
I'd smile in amusement, but I don't want to give him the wrong idea—that his efforts had won him anything. So, instead, I press my lips in a thin line. "What made you change your mind?"
"Aria and the guys."
"So, what, they convinced you to think things through?"
"Something like that." He looks a little embarrassed. They must have laid into him.
I hope they pointed out how stupid his decision was. Then again, maybe they did. Maybe that's exactly the reason why he's standing in front of me.
He listened to them.
But he didn't listen to me.
"What do you want me to do now?" I ask in an icy voice. "Jump into your arms and welcome you back like nothing happened?"
"Peaches, no," he rasps, taking a step forward. "I never expected you to. I'm willing to wait. I intend to do everything to win you back." His eyes plead. "Just give me a chance."
Freaking unbelievable.
I shake my head incredulously, hot tears welling up in my eyes. "That's exactly what I told you, don't you remember? I said I'd wait. I promised I wouldn't get in the way. But you didn't listen. Now, you want me to do what I asked from you? That's rich."
He hangs his head, shame coating his body. "I'm a fucking idiot."
"No. You're hot and cold." I harshly wipe the corner of my eyes, angry that I'm crying in front of him again. Why does he keep breaking my heart? "One moment you're a nice guy, the next you're an asshole. You're giving me whiplash, Parker. Make up your damn mind."