Between the Lines

by Renee Harless

  “Is Quinn here? Has she come by?” I ask, wheezing as I catch my breath. I try to peer over his shoulder but am only met with the darkness of the hall.

  “No, I haven’t seen Ms. Miller. Is something the matter?”

  My faith plummets and I snake my hands through my hair once more, tugging at the ends.

  “Just… if you see her, don’t let her leave, okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I jump off the porch, skipping the three steps leading to the walkway, and hop into my car just as Vic and Izzy scramble from the field. The car slides into Drive and I turn on my headlights as I approach them slowly.

  “She’s not here. Did she drive herself?” I ask Izzy.

  “She did.”

  “Fuck!” I pound my hands against the steering wheel.

  Vic leans into the window, resting his elbows on the opening.

  “Look, I’m going to take Izzy back to the house. That way if Quinn shows up there, someone will be home. Then I’ll help you look for her, all right?”

  “Yeah, okay. She drives a gray Honda Accord, a ’98 I believe, with California plates. Just… call me if you find her.”

  Vic and Izzy move to his car, and I take one last look back at the neighborhood before peeling off to head across town.

  Twenty minutes later, Vic calls. “No sign of her, Trevor.”

  Dammit, where could she have gone?

  “I haven’t seen her either. I even checked the school. Let’s head back to Izzy’s and figure something else out.”

  When I arrive back at the house, the detective in me comes out in full force and I immediately go on high alert. Every nerve ending in my body is firing at will, and I know without a single doubt that Quinn’s been here, and recently.

  I’m huffing as I make my way up to the front of the house, barely recalling if I’ve turned off my car as I open the front door with a jerk, causing it to slam into the adjoining wall.

  “Where is she?” I yell at Izzy as she sits nervously on the couch, her foot bouncing up and down. A dead giveaway for any detective. A death warrant when it’s your own twin.

  “Trevor, maybe you should—”

  “Don’t you dare fucking tell me to calm down. You don’t get to tell me to do anything! You’re the whole reason this shit is happening in the first place.”

  “No,” she counters as she rises from her seat and stalks toward me, venom spewing from her eyes. “You couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, that’s why this shit is happening.”

  “Really? Have you thought that maybe your best friend is the one who approached me?” I lie.

  Izzy’s eyes narrow as if that concept isn’t anything she’s entertained or believes.

  “Quinn’s not like that.”

  And she’s not, but she readily agreed to our terms without a second thought.

  “Where is she, Izzy?”

  Hands planted on her hips, Izzy shakes her head as she hands me a folded-up note.

  “She’s gone.”

  “What!” I shout just as Vic enters the house. “She was here and you just let her fucking go?”

  “Yes, I did. She walked in, grabbed her things, apologized to me and made me promise not to call you. She’ll be filming out of the country for the next couple of weeks, so she’ll be hard to get in touch with.”

  “Well this is just fucking great,” I seethe as I squeeze the note in my hand, the hard edges of the paper digging into my palm, the pain almost soothing me.

  “What did you expect, Trevor? She was leaving Monday anyway. Where are you going?” she asks as I move toward the guest room, needing to see with my own eyes that she’s gone. “I told you guys so long ago that this would happen, and now our friendship is broken.”

  “Oh yes, you and your goddamn rule. Well congratulations, Izzy, you threw down a gauntlet when we were sixteen and you’ve won. But you forgot one thing.” I brush past her as I move to leave the house, not wanting to be in my sister’s presence for one second longer.

  “Yeah, what’s that?” she questions behind me as Vic stands in the room, torn between protecting his girlfriend and standing up for his friend. Poor guy just walked himself right into a shit storm.

  “Your stupid rule just tore everything apart because I’m in love with her, Iz. I love her with everything I am, and I never got to tell her. And now she’s gone.”

  The door slams behind me but I feel no remorse. The ache in my chest is too great to care about a dent in the wall or a shattered picture frame that may have fallen to the floor. My sister just denied me the chance to make things right with Quinn. Even if she still left, I could’ve taken the chance to explain things. I’m not sure why I said it was just about sex to Izzy when she asked. Maybe I hadn’t fully come to terms with my feelings. Maybe I was trying to save face after being put on the spot. I’m not sure. But knowing I’ve hurt Quinn is the worst part of all. She deserves nothing but happiness, and I had to go and fall in love with her and let my pride control me.

  “Hey, Trevor,” Vic calls out from the porch as I head down the walkway. “You should try the airport.”

  I turn around and look at him in surprise. He nods and I realize Izzy told him where Quinn’s headed.

  I hop into my car and consider chasing after her or calling in a favor to the Houston department to track down her car and pull her over. It would give me enough time to make things right.

  But I can’t do that to her. I should let her go. I should let her move on. She should to be with someone better, someone who can love her and give her everything she needs. Because she isn’t going to find what she dreams of with a cop in a small town who reminds her of everything she ran away from. I don’t want her to live her life regretting everything, regretting me. But my desire to have her is too strong and I can’t hold back my urge to rush after her, to find a way to keep her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Quinn

  MY CAR ONLY MAKES it to the Houston airport. Not because it can’t physically keep going, but my brain has turned to mush and my heart is just a pile of ash in my chest. It’s dark out and I find a place to park the car, taking note of the mechanic's name on the billboard across the street. I jot down the number and hope he’s able to use the car or sell it for parts.

  I snag my bag from the seat and reach into the glove box to remove anything I’ll need before I close the door and step away. In the jumbled mess, I find a clear rectangle dangling from a keyring with a picture inside of Izzy, Trevor, and me at an amusement park the summer before our sophomore year. Izzy and I were squeezing each other tightly, looking at the camera with silly grins on our faces. Trevor stands on my other side, holding a pair of bunny ears onto Izzy’s head with his arm fully extended. I must not have thought much about it as a teen, but as I look closer at Trevor’s face, I notice that he wasn’t looking over to Izzy like I had always believed. He was looking down at me with the small smirk I love so dearly.

  I stare at the reminder, wanting so desperately to go back to the time when we could be together like this without complications. Trevor repeated over and over again that we were to keep feelings from getting involved, but it didn’t matter. I’ve been in love with him since I was thirteen, and I was far too naïve when we started out three weeks ago to believe that those feelings would change. I thought they were gone, but they were simply buried deep within me, waiting for their chance to blossom.

  Three weeks. That’s all the time I spent with Trevor, and yet it’s like I’ve been reawakened. I do feel bad for what transpired with Izzy, but as I grabbed my clothes and hightailed it from the house, I told her that she needed to choose her brother. I wasn’t going to come between them. They mean far too much to me for that. She hadn’t argued with me, but even if she had it was a moot point. I wasn’t changing my mind.

  The note I left him had been short and to the point, nothing more than a few sentences of me wishing him the best and that I hope he and his sister would remain as close as they used to be
. That I never regretted my time with him but that I do regret it ruining my friendship with Izzy. If he looks close enough, he’ll find my tears blotting some of the ink and paper.

  The first thing I do when I walk into the airport is stare at her and Trevor’s number, my finger hovering over the Delete button with their contact information. I don’t want to be tempted to reach out to them. But I can’t bring myself to follow through; even in all of this turmoil, they’re still my life.

  I also learn why my publicist didn’t give me a heads-up about the pictures: my phone’s still on silent from my dinner with the Shaws the night before. I have twelve missed calls from my agent and five from my publicist. I send them both messages asking for a few days to settle back into the Hollywood scene before we address the tabloids. I just hope this doesn’t bring problems to Trevor’s doorstep.

  The keychain stays tight within my grasp as I navigate the terminals, only relieving it when I go through security. I pull the ball cap down over my eyes as I make my way toward my gate when I notice eyes following my every move.

  Finding a seat in the corner, I hunch forward and let the keychain swing from my finger, watching as the light from the ceiling catches on the plastic every once in a while. For the late hour, I’m surprised to see so many people coming and going in the airport, but then again, I don’t travel this way very much so I wouldn’t know.

  I lose track of time as I sit hypnotized by my tiny trinket until suddenly I hear my name shouted across the terminal. And not just any shout, a cry of pure desperation.

  “Quinn!” I hear closer to me, and I look up to find a frantic Trevor shoving his hands through his hair.

  “Trevor?” I stand from my seat and he rushes toward me, jumping over a few chairs and frightening airline passengers as they wait for their flights.

  “What are you doing here?” I question as he pulls me in tight, tucking my head against his chest. I breathe him in as I listen to his heartbeat pound beneath my ear. “How did you get past security?”

  Pulling back, I look into his watery eyes as he holds up his badge in his left hand.

  “The TSA have been very accommodating, especially when asked if they saw a celebrity rush through.” He takes a deep breath and runs his hands over my hair, then shoulders, and finally my arms. “Why are you leaving, Quinn? Why are you running away?”

  “Trevor, I can’t come between you and your sister. You know this. You’re both too important to me.”

  Of course, just as Trevor begins to reply, my boarding number is called.

  “I need to go, Trevor. I’m sorry about this mess I’ve caused.”

  “Quinn, you can’t leave,” he states fervently.

  “I need to go. I have a movie to start filming, and you have a life to get back to.”

  “But, Quinn, I—”

  “Please, don’t.” With tears in my eyes, I continue. “Please, I can’t do this right now or I’ll never get on that plane. And right now I still need to figure things out.”

  As my boarding number is called again, Trevor anxiously perks up. “Can I message you, at least? Maybe we could arrange something.”

  With an ache in my chest, I rise onto my toes and press a kiss to Trevor’s stubble-covered jaw. He doesn’t let me get away with merely a peck. His hand reaches up to my jaw and guides my mouth towards his, pressing his soft lips against mine in a plea. A plea to stay. A plea to give in. A plea to love.

  “I’ll miss you. Good luck, Trevor.”

  With a strength I never knew I possessed, I lift my bag and move toward the loading zone, only looking back once as I pass through the gate. The look of anguish on Trevor’s face would be enough to break my heart if it wasn’t already shattered into a million shards.

  I amble onto the plane and find my seat in first class quickly, thankful there were seats available. I clutch the piece of nostalgia in my palm as I rest my head forward with my eyes closed.

  The seat beside me dips, and I turn to the older man who’s taken the vacant spot.

  “Good evening.”

  “Hello,” I respond sullenly, not at all up for a full-fledged conversation.

  He settles back into his seat, presses a few buttons on his phone before putting it back in his pocket, and then grabs a magazine from the back of the seat in front of him.

  “Business or pleasure?” he asks without looking up.

  I think for a moment and then reply truthfully, “Um… both?”

  “Did the trip not go well?” he probes as he places the magazine on his lap and turns to me with kind eyes.

  “Oh, the trip was fine. Just sad to be going home, that’s all.”

  His chest rises with a single chuckle until his gaze locks on me once more.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?”

  “Yes, I’ve been told that recently, actually.”

  “You remind me of someone,” he adds, but his eyes don’t narrow as if he’s trying to place me. “You remind me of my sweet Agatha. That poor woman tried to lie to me all the time when we first met and tell me that she wasn’t interested in going steady with me. But I knew better. I could tell by the way she looked at me. So I kept plugging along until she finally caved. Been together for over fifty years now.

  “Whatever’s botherin’ ya, it’ll all work out. Everything happens the way it’s meant to. Now if ya don’t mind, I’m going to get a little shut-eye. I still have one more layover after Los Angeles before I make it back to my sweet lady.”

  “Thank you…,” I press for an introduction.

  “Thomas. Thomas Delaney,” he replies as he holds out his hand and I respond to his gesture.

  “I wish you many more years of happiness, Mr. Delaney.”

  “Well that’s mighty kind of you, Ms. Miller,” Thomas adds, surprising me, and I gasp in shock. “What? I may be old, but the missus and I love to go to see motion pictures. You’re one of her favorites. And if that tabloid I saw in the newspaper stand has any truth to it, then I’d say you’re leaving behind a broken heart.”

  “You’re not wrong. It’s all just a blurry mess right now.”

  “Well, get some shut-eye. Everything is clearer in the morning light.”

  *

  WALKING THROUGH LAX, I tug my hat lower on my head, not wanting the paparazzi to witness my reddened eyes and lack of makeup. Some celebrities use the walk through the airport as another runway, but it’s just another reason why I avoid the chance to fly. I don’t crave that sort of attention.

  Priscilla messages me just as I snag my bag that she’s waiting out front with a town car to take me back to my condo. After the bit of sleep I got on the plane, I remembered what Thomas had said before we took off, that everything would seem clearer in the morning light. And he’s right. I know I made the best decision to leave; I don’t need to come between Izzy and Trevor. They’re more than just siblings and twins who share DNA—they’re the best of friends and always have been. I’m not worth the mess it would cause in their lives.

  My phone rings from a number I don’t recognize just as I grab my bag. I hesitate to answer, but something within me tells me I should.

  “Hello?”

  “Quinn,” his deep voice sighs into the phone, as if all is right with the world now that he’s heard my voice.

  “Trevor? Where are you calling me from?”

  “Work. I was just checking to make sure you landed all right. I… I may have been tracking your flight.”

  “I’m fine and here safe and sound. Did you… did you read my note?”

  “No.”

  “Please. When you get a chance, just read it,” I beg as the pounding in my chest intensifies.

  “I can’t because that means it’s over and it’s not over, not by a long shot. Our time isn’t through yet, Quinn.”

  “It has to be,” I whisper. “My ride is waiting for me, so I need to go.”

  “Can I… can I text you when I get off work?”

  I smile for t
he first time since my world unraveled the night before. “I’d like that, Trevor. I’ll miss you.”

  “Quinn, wait, I—” Trevor pleads, but I end the call as I step out into the light of the LA morning where Priscilla waits for me.

  “Welcome back!” she exclaims joyfully. Then she sees my face and quickly ushers me in the car away from the onlookers.

  “What happened to you?” she asks, but my sobs are too overpowering to answer. “Is this about the man in the picture?”

  I nod and lean toward her as I continue to cry on her shoulder.

  After a few deep breaths, I’m able to right myself and speak.

  “I love him.”

  “I can tell by the way you looked at him in the photo. And it’s obvious he feels the same for you. So what’s the matter? We can schedule your filming to allow you to fly back every weekend if you want. You know the production team would bend over backward to accommodate you.”

  Another sob breaks free as I think about how many times I shared myself with Trevor over the past three weeks.

  “Did he hurt you?” she asks, and I shake my head before replying, “No. If anything I’ve hurt him.”

  “Is it the money thing? A lot of men can’t deal with a woman being the breadwinner.”

  As unladylike as possible, I wipe my nose on the back of my hand and then use my thumbs to wipe away the tears on my cheeks before looking over to my agent and friend.

  “I love him and we can’t be together because I love his sister just as much.”

  Priscilla looks at me confused. “Weird love triangle?”

  “No,” I finally laugh. “They’d been my best friends since I was thirteen and moved to Dale City. Trevor obviously became more to me than just a crush, but my friendship with Izzy is far more important to me. She found out that Trevor and I were sneaking around while I was home and it tore her apart. See, she’s known I’ve crushed on Trevor forever, but she pretty much made me swear that there would never be anything more. I’m sure she did the same with her brother.

  “But when I was home, things just… happened. The pull was too strong to fight against it. We made a deal that no feelings would be involved, but obviously that didn’t favor well for me. She, um… said she hated me when I showed up at the house, and it broke me even more than losing Trevor, I was losing my best friend. But I could deal with her hating me if she had her brother. I guess as twins they have a special bond, and I would never take that from her. So I left. I took myself out of the equation. Not that it really matters, since I was scheduled to leave tomorrow anyway.”