Catch Twenty-Two

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Catch Twenty-Two Page 23

by James, Marie


  “After school,” he suggests.

  “My mom is home,” I mutter.

  “You can follow me to my place.”

  Now doesn’t seem the time to ask the millions of questions flowing through my head about his quick disappearance from my house, so I merely nod my agreement.

  “Frankie.” He tilts my chin the same way he did not long ago in the hallway.

  He doesn’t say anything else, but he leans in brushing another kiss to my lips before clasping my hand and walking me to homeroom.

  Chapter 43

  Zeke

  The moment in the classroom was perfect. Frankie kissed me back, and I felt all the emotion coming from her that I was feeling inside, but the second we stepped outside again, it all changed.

  We weren’t three steps outside of that classroom before she pulled her hand from mine. By the time we made it to homeroom, she wouldn’t even look at me. She wasn’t in the cafeteria during lunch, and the bell for next period echoed around me before I could track her down on campus. Algebra was more of the same as homeroom, but I stayed the course, uncaring if a couple of the guys from the football team were talking to me.

  I ignored all of them.

  I ignored the way Bronwyn stared at me like I grew a second head.

  I ignored the way people chattered around me, asking if what I said in the hall this morning was true.

  I ignored the way my stomach turned when I walked out of last period, just knowing that Frankie was going to blow me off.

  I was able to shove that fear aside because I knew I wouldn’t let her bolt this time. She may be able to make it home, but I don’t care if her mother is in the house. We need to have a conversation, and that’s happening today. We’ve put it off long enough, and my nerves can’t handle another night of staring at the ceiling trying to figure out what to do.

  My feet stutter on the pavement when I find Frankie’s car parked beside my truck. It’s strange seeing her in this parking lot. She usually parks in the back lot, far away from where the other students leave their vehicles.

  My feet manage to work again, but she doesn’t make a move to get out of her car to speak with me, so I climb in my truck and pull out. My eyes dart from the road a hundred times to make sure she’s still behind me as I drive to the edge of town. All the small houses on our street look exactly the same from the painted brick to the porchless front doors.

  I pull into the driveway and Frankie parks on the street, staying in her car just long enough to rachet up the anxiety in my blood in fear that she’s going to change her mind and drive off. I beg with my eyes as she sits in her car, keeping her eyes forward. Eventually, she turns her car off, and a wave of relief washes over me when she opens her car door and steps out.

  “My mom isn’t home, so we’ll have some privacy to talk,” I tell her as she walks up.

  She looks surprised at the mention of my mom, and it’s just one more thing for me to feel crappy about. I just left her house days ago, so she probably doesn’t have a clue that my mom is in town. She probably suspects I just deserted her after finding out about the baby. Today, I’ll clear all that mess up. She isn’t leaving until I spill all of my secrets. I don’t want her walking away without carrying every piece of information I can offer her.

  Frankie doesn’t look around the tiny house as she walks in, but that still doesn’t keep shame from creeping up my neck. This place isn’t bad, but it’s miles away from her standard of living.

  Mom didn’t bring much in the back of Dad’s old truck when she drove in. Most of the furniture in the house we were living in in Utah belonged to Mrs. Jacobson. This house came furnished with everything except the bedrooms, and even though I have the comfort of my old bed, the living room décor leaves a lot to be desired.

  “Where’s your room?” Frankie says, finally.

  “This way.” My hand shakes as I point to the door to the right of the living room. This house is so small there isn’t even a hallway, just three doors leading to my room, my mom’s, and the single bathroom. The kitchen is tiny, barely larger than one you’d find in long-term hotel suites.

  Frankie waits for me to open the door, but then before I can open my mouth to offer her something to drink, she kicks off her shoes and flops down on my bed. Her eyes flutter closed a moment later.

  “Tired?” I ask, standing awkwardly at the edge of the bed.

  There’s no room to move around in here, but I don’t want to be presumptuous and climb on the bed with her, no matter how much it heats my blood to see her so relaxed in my space.

  “Mmm,” she responds, her jaw going slack as she melts into my comforter.

  Within seconds, her entire body relaxes and her breathing evens out.

  Keeping the reminder that she kissed me back as recently as this morning, I kick my boots off and climb in beside her. The softness of my mattress makes her roll slightly in my direction when I fully settle in, so I use the opportunity to pull her against my chest, much the same way I did in the barn that night.

  She doesn’t budge or try to wiggle away. Her breath doesn’t even hitch. She’s out like a light, and I enjoy every second of her against me as she sleeps. It leaves me so relaxed, my eyes drift closed as the exhaustion from the last couple of days settles into my bones.

  Even in sleep, I feel the second she wakes up, but she doesn’t give me too long to pretend this is exactly where we both should be. Frankie pushes against my chest, sliding back on the bed until not an inch of our bodies are touching. I miss her weight, the warmth of her body, and the way her slow breaths tickle my neck the instant she’s gone.

  Even though I’m terrified of what she’ll say in return, I turn to my side to face her, opening my mouth with my confessions the second her eyes land on mine.

  “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for saying mean things. Sorry for the way I treated you in Utah, the way I treated you when I showed up here. I’m just…” I release a long breath, trying to swallow around the lump forming in my throat. “I’m just sorry. For everything.”

  She doesn’t speak, and I can’t tell if the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes are a good thing or if she’s about to rip my world apart.

  “I want you,” I continue when she doesn’t speak. My heart is pounding against my rib cage because I know what comes next. I know how vulnerable it makes me, and the knowledge that she can reject me makes me want to snap my mouth closed, but I can’t. I can’t let her leave without knowing it all. “I love you. I love our baby.”

  Her slow blink pushes the tears from her lashes, and I watch as they trail down her nose, dripping onto my sheets. She doesn’t speak, and I take mild comfort in the fact that even though she isn’t saying she loves me back, she also isn’t telling me to go to Hell.

  “What does this mean for us?” I ask after a long torturous moment of silence.

  “There is no us,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and filled with emotion she doesn’t seem to want to share right now.

  It guts me. It literally flays me open to hear her say those words, but I knew getting her to trust me, to love me was going to be a long, hard fought battle. I hurt her too many times to expect her to just smile up at me and say those three words right back. Pride fills in the small corners of my broken heart at her resilience. She wouldn’t be the woman I’ve grown to care so much about if she just rolled over and gave me exactly what I wanted.

  I turn over on my back when she looks away from me because confessing everything while looking at her leaves me too exposed to get it all out. She doesn’t pull away when my fingers find hers in the space she’s put between us.

  “Mrs. Jacobson talked about you for weeks before your arrival. She was so excited for me to meet her only granddaughter. I could see how much she loved you from that very first conversation, but somehow her excitement transformed into her hinting that we’d be a perfect match. Then my dad got on board, and one mention of Frances Young’s impending visit to my mother, and they we
re relentless about you. According to both of my parents, you were the perfect match for me. As they were counting down the days until you showed up, I began dreading them.”

  She squeezes my fingers when I pause, giving me the courage to continue.

  “Them shoving me in your direction was another way for them to control my life. We’d already lost the farm. I was already working your nan’s land rather than our own family plots. Dad was hinting about football taking too much time, and I knew before long he’d insist that I quit. And quitting football only opened the door for me to quit school. Looking back, I’d do it all. Football doesn’t matter. School doesn’t matter. Working someone else’s cattle doesn’t matter. I’d do it all with a smile on my face if I could have one more conversation with my dad.”

  My own eyes burn with tears, but I don’t stop talking, afraid that if I wait too long, I’ll quit altogether.

  “I no longer had control of my destiny. My dreams, my goals, the things I wanted to do in life no longer mattered. You became the focus of that anger. You were a tangible thing for me to fight against, the only way I could get some level of control back in my life. I knew I’d quit football, quit school, but I didn’t have to like you. That was one thing I could control, but then you showed up in those cutoff shorts and bright gray eyes, and for a second I forgot that I was supposed to hate you.

  “I forgot that you were the enemy. I got hard the first day I saw you watching me from the window, and I hated myself for it. Each time I was alone with you, I wanted to kiss you and hold you and smell your skin, and the anger only multiplied because I couldn’t control my feelings, my desire. I couldn’t control my body when you were around. Kissing you, touching you became moments of weakness, moments when I let myself just feel, and God, Frankie, did I feel everything in those moments, but then it would piss me off. I’d get so angry at myself for letting some girl I hardly knew come in and take over every damn thought in my head.”

  I pause, needing a moment to catch my breath.

  “I wanted to keep my distance. I needed to prove to myself that I was capable of making my own choices rather than settling for what everyone else thought I should have. What I couldn’t wrap my head around was the fact that Mrs. Jacobson and my parents were right. You were perfect for me. You’re everything I never thought to want, and then Dad died. I was a stubborn fool with him too. I didn’t get to tell him the things he needed to hear before he was gone, so that’s why I went to the ranch that night. I wasn’t thinking clearly, but being there meant I was closer to you and that soothed a part of me somehow. I wanted to tell you everything then. I wanted you to know what you meant to me, how I felt. I didn’t want the sun to rise without you knowing exactly how I felt.

  “And like an angel you appeared in the barn, as if we were connected on a visceral level and you were drawn to me to ease my pain. I couldn’t even speak when you whispered my name in the doorway. All I could think about was making you mine. I wanted to offer you the world, but all I had was my body, and giving to you the last thing I had left, a piece of me no one else ever had was all I had to offer. I thought you’d shove me away, but you didn’t. You gave a piece of yourself to me that night as well, both of us relinquishing precious gifts that can only be given once.”

  Her fingers tighten on mine to the point that I open my eyes and roll my head in her direction.

  “Y-You were a virgin, too?” Her eyes search mine, and for the first time since I met her, she seems completely open to me.

  “Yeah.” I smile weakly. “Why else do you think it was over so damn soon?”

  Her eyes are bright, but she doesn’t laugh at my weak confession.

  “But you left me. I woke up cold and alone. My heart broke in the barn that morning. You used me and walked away.”

  I shake my head violently as I open my mouth to speak. “I had to go back home and help Mom with funeral arrangements. I didn’t want her to be alone right after losing Dad.”

  More tears fill her eyes as her lip trembles. “You didn’t—”

  Her words just stop as her body shakes with a sob.

  “It killed me to walk away early that morning, but I went back to the ranch after the sun came up, after I made sure Mom was going to be okay. I realized that although we had an amazing night, I still didn’t tell you everything I needed to say. When I got there, you were gone. No goodbye, no note. I didn’t even have your phone number. I was destroyed. I lost Dad, then mere hours later, I lost you. It was all too much, so I went back to the only thing that made me resilient. I went back to the anger and the hatred. Loving you after you left was just too hard for me.”

  She nods, and I can see the heartbreak in her eyes.

  “But now we’re having a baby.” I smile at her, wiping a few tears from her cheek with the gentle brush of my fingers. “And I was completely honest with what I said in the hallway earlier. I’m ecstatic to go on this adventure with you.”

  She tries to smile but fails. “I’m not trapping you, Zeke. I have literally no expectations of involvement from you.”

  I can tell she isn’t saying these things to upset me. I’ve hurt her so many times, that she can’t trust me. I’ve been nice to her in the past only to turn around and be the exact opposite.

  “I know,” I tell her, pressing my lips to the tip of her nose. “I plan to prove myself to you. I’m going to show you every day how I feel, with actions, not with words. Get ready Frankie Young, before you know it, you’ll be in love with me, too.”

  Chapter 44

  Frankie

  Leaving Zeke yesterday while the pleading for an answer to his confessions were playing out on his face was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but staying there when I was so raw and unsure wasn’t an option either.

  I had no idea the extent of what he was going through while I was visiting Nan. I felt that same shove from my grandmother that Zeke talked about, but being in a different place in my own journey, dating the cute boy seemed like a good idea, until the way he treated me at his truck that night. But as I stared up at my ceiling last night, I realized that what he said is exactly what happened. He wanted me, then he didn’t. The push and pull for the last couple of months has been about him fighting his own demons.

  Is he done fighting them? He said he was, but even as much as I want to, I can’t just go all-in. I can’t give him everything when I’m still afraid he’ll turn into that guy that treats me poorly. We’re having a baby, and I can’t trust him. Knowing that kills my spirit a little.

  I gave him my phone number before I left, but when he texted sweet words later that night, I couldn’t bring myself to respond. I’m so twisted up and confused. So leery and still in so much pain from what’s happened between us that I didn’t know what to say. Ignoring him was a jerk move, but it was the best I could do.

  This morning doesn’t bring any revelations either. The teasing and taunting still continue as I walk down the hall, but I don’t have time to consider what my life will be like after the entire school found out about my pregnancy because my name is called over the loudspeaker before I can make it to homeroom.

  Piper squeezes my hand before offering to join me in the office, but I decline, not knowing what’s going on.

  I’d hoped that the news Bronwyn so viciously shared with everyone would go unnoticed by school staff, but when I enter the office, the look on the office manager’s face says I’m not so lucky. My time is up. My parents are going to find out, and that means another round of yelling and disappointment is coming my way.

  I sit uncomfortably in the chair up front until I’m called back to speak with Mr. Lockwood. I haven’t had much interaction with the school’s administration because I stay out of trouble, but I can see disappointment in his eyes when I take a seat across from him. On the other side of the room, Ms. Singleton, the school’s guidance counselor sits stoically with a stack of pamphlets in her hand.

  “Ms. Young,” Mr. Lockwood says as he takes a seat. “It’s
come to our attention that you’re pregnant.”

  So much for small talk and pleasantries.

  “Yes, sir,” I answer, my pulse pounding in the hollow of my neck so hard I wonder if he can see it.

  “Do your parents know?”

  “Yes,” I lie, needing a little more time before they find out.

  He doesn’t look like he believes me, but he nods his head in acceptance.

  “We’ve made adjustments to your schedule. You’ll no longer have homeroom first period. You’ve been moved to the family planning class in Room 214.”

  He hands me over a new copy of my schedule, and I take it with shaking hands.

  “Here is some literature for you to review,” Ms. Singleton says as she stands before shoving the stack of pamphlets into my hands. “I’m here to discuss your options and assist you in any way.”

  She doesn’t seem like she’s willing to help, more that she’s required to provide me with these things. I’ve had a couple of conversations with her about my plans for the future, but the look on her face makes shame swim in my gut, as if I’ve personally offended her somehow.

  I turn my head back to the principal, refusing to acknowledge the burn in my nose from the emotions threatening to bubble up.

  “Mrs. Hampshire knows you’re coming,” Mr. Lockwood says abruptly.

  He stands as Ms. Singleton opens the office door and just like that, I’m dismissed. The halls are clear when I leave the office, but I still take a moment to step to the side and shove the offending pamphlets into my backpack. Everyone knows I’m pregnant but the sight of those things in my hands will only give them more ammunition to taunt me.

  I do my best to ignore the small group at the end of the hall, but there’s something about the way Linc, Bennett, and Graham look as they form a semi-circle around Drea against the lockers that draws my attention. She’s got her head bowed, and she’s not doing anything to swipe her tears away as Linc speaks to her.

  I caught bits and pieces of Violet’s and Caleb’s conversation yesterday at lunch, but even they don’t have a clue about this girl’s fall from grace. One minute she was on the cheer squad, one of Bronwyn’s minions, and the next she was an outcast. The devil girls she used to hang out with aren’t talking to her any longer, but I see these three guys hovering near her almost constantly.

 

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