by K. Ryan
"Hey," Becca giggled. "We can laugh about that now. That happened, like, what? Four years ago? I'm sure he doesn't even remember anyways. Wait, is that really why you've been avoiding the clubhouse since then?"
"No," I replied a little too quickly. "I guess it's just that I don't really know any of them. I've never really known any of them. It would be weird to just show up how many years after high school and try to party with them, don't you think?"
"I guess I see your point," Becca conceded with a sigh and passed me her leftover cookie. "But maybe it would be good for you to try something new. Broaden your horizons. You're all about that now anyways, right?"
Well, I had to give her that one. But I'd never really been friends with any of them in that group—Caleb, Ariel, Dominic, or even Lexie, who'd always been pretty nice to me—and I wasn't sure how my attendance would be received, by Ariel and Caleb especially. It was strange how you could know of people you'd spent a good part of your life going to school with, but never really know them at the same time.
"Do you really think your dad would actually...?" Becca trailed off, like she wasn't quite sure how to phrase something so terrible and hopefully, not an inevitability.
"Kick my ass out?" I offered.
"I don't know," she shrugged. "That just seems so harsh. So final. I can't believe he'd really do it, Belle. You're still his daughter."
"Yeah, try reminding him of that and see what happens. And I don't really see the point in taking the chance, especially since I basically have no money right now."
"I know," she sighed. "You could still stay with me, you know."
"I know, I know," I told her. "But I don't know how much rent money I'd be able to give you this month and even after I've been working at the shop for awhile, I don't know where I'll be at money-wise. I don't want to have to do that to you, Becs. It'll be fine. I'll figure it out."
We'd been over this already and I couldn't take a handout, not even from my best friend. I just didn't know how to tell her that me living at home was about more than being short on rent money.
"I don't care about that though. You could just stay with me until you get your feet off the ground. Save up enough money for your own place. It's really not a big deal, Belle. I'm happy to help you."
I swallowed tightly. "And I appreciate that. I'll just...I'll figure out another way."
And make sure my dad's still breathing on a nightly basis.
"I just hope you like working at the shop," Becca went on quietly. "You deserve that."
"Thanks," I shot her a weak smile. "But I swear to God, if he starts to call me you-know-what I'll...I don't know what I'll do. I'll do something though."
I shook my head at the memory as Becca just laughed. While Caleb Sawyer and I never had our lockers by one another, never sat near each other during lunch, hardly ever saw each other in the halls, and barely had any classes together, he never wasted an opportunity to piss me off by calling me...Iz.
It wasn't so much the name itself, but the way he said it, especially coming from the big, bad biker-boy, that grated on every nerve in my body.
It made me cringe a little just thinking about it. His taunts usually went something like, lookin' smokin' today, Iz...you got a shirt to go with that skirt, Iz...hey, Iz, when do I get to see some of those high kicks...he knew exactly what to say to get under my skin and I'd fallen right into his trap every single time.
And I was about 99 percent sure he'd cheated off me on our American Lit final senior year. Anyone that couldn't appreciate a poet like ee cummings was sorely missing out and he'd just bluffed his way through it. That pissed me off too.
"He's not the same person he was in high school and neither are you," Becca offered diplomatically.
I could only hope that was true. Otherwise, this was going to be a very long, trying tenure at Sawyer Auto Repair.
"So what are you doing later tonight?" Becca asked quietly from across the table. "You up for a Project Runway marathon or something?"
"I don't know. I'll have to see how things are when I get home."
Becca nodded sympathetically. "Bad night yesterday?"
Having to pick up your falling-down drunk father, who was letting grief and disappointment eat him alive, from a dirty, grungy bar on a pretty rough side of town and somehow manage to get his drunk ass into bed before he passed out was more than just a bad night.
But someone had to be there, someone had to make sure he was alright, even if alright meant passing out in his own bed instead of on a dive bar's sticky floor. I just had to hope that things would get better, that he'd find a way to forgive me, and that he'd find something to live for now that my mom was gone.
"Something like that, yeah," I pushed out with an exhale.
"You know you can call me, right? If you need some help, I could bring Eli along for an extra pair of hands in case he's too..." Becca trailed off quietly, realizing her error and I was grateful for it.
"It's fine. I'm fine. He's gonna be fine. He's just going through a rough time right now. That's it."
"You shouldn't have to be his caretaker though, Belle. You're the daughter. That shouldn't be your job right now. You should be..." Becca's voice stalled, knowing she was crossing into dangerous territory yet again.
I knew exactly what she was about to say next: I should be finishing school instead. But the closer it came to September, the less I wished I really was going back to Duke. Sure, I'd loved being on campus and everything that went along with it at one point, but when my mom got sick, all that just fell by the wayside.
Although my mom kept telling me to stay, to have fun with my friends, that I didn't need to be spending all my time in a hospital, the freedom and excitement of college vanished into thin air. That wasn't where I needed to be and now that my mom wasn't here to force my hand, I didn't see a reason to continue.
Truth be told, I'd never really been all that crazy about law school in the first place, but law school had also been in the plan since I was a baby. For the past 21 years of my life, it had all been about making my dad proud and following in his footsteps.
There was just no point anymore. It hadn't felt right before my mom died and it sure as hell didn't feel right now.
Life was too short to spend your whole life trying to make other people happy.
But my reasons for being back in Claremont were more complicated than that. I was on the fast track towards losing another parent, a reality that was as horrifying as it was an actual possibility, and if that was true, this time around, I couldn't have any other distractions like school getting in the way of being where I needed to be.
"Well," Becca sighed, "I guess I should be getting back to the salon. My break's just about over. Text me if you change your mind about tonight, okay?"
"Sure, Becs," I smiled back. "Hey, thanks again for telling me about the job at the shop. I don't know what I would've done if I hadn't been able to find something so quickly."
"Don't worry about it," Becca waved it off as she rose from her seat. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"
"True."
I watched her best friend exit the diner and sunk a little deeper into my chair. I probably needed to go back now to check on him and make sure he was still breathing after last night, but I was already dreading what I would find. It was always a crapshoot of how the house would look after he'd spent the night drinking: sometimes it was his office that he completely destroyed, sometimes it was his bedroom or the kitchen and sometimes he just passed out on the couch with an empty bottle in his hand.
The grief counselor told me after the funeral that this kind of behavior wasn't entirely abnormal after a loss of this magnitude and that it would pass. Granted, the grief counselor was also unaware how that behavior had escalated and if that counselor got wind of even half of what was really going on, my dad would be in some sort of facility faster than a Nascar crew in the pit and he'd raise hell, kicking and screaming as that race car dragged him away.
>
My mom was the love of his life and if I'd hit rock bottom by quitting school, throwing away years of tuition, blood, sweat, and tears in the process, I could only imagine the pit of despair he'd succumbed to.
After the funeral, some space and some time was what we both needed and so, I'd more or less given him the space and time he needed. The problem was that he was getting worse, progressively worse, and I had no idea what to do when the bottom finally dropped out because I felt like maybe it already had.
As agonizing as it was to watch him slowly drink his way into an early grave, my hands were tied.
Any talk of rehab ended with screaming, doors slamming, and finally, radio silence. I hadn't been there for my mom like I should have been and so I couldn't abandon my sole living parent now—not when he threatened to kick me out, not when he threatened to cut me off, and not when he bitterly spat in my face how much of a disgrace I was.
This new job at the shop had to be the start of something new, something good.
Maybe this time away from school would clear my head enough to pick up the pieces of my life and for my dad to steer away from the path of complete destruction.
I didn't want to think about the alternative.
CHAPTER FOUR
Asshole
Isabelle
"So, the last thing you need to do is just get the customer's signature, give them the yellow copy, and then give them their keys. Oh, and always make sure you walk them out the door and show them where their car is parked," Skyler explained, gesturing towards the parking lot as she spoke.
Well, so far so good.
I was picking things up pretty quickly and even though it was still just my first day, this job seemed like it was going to be something I might enjoy. There was always something to file, always something to order or ship, always a customer to help or call, and I hadn't realized how much I thrived on always having something to do.
Busyness and I were BFFs now.
Awesome.
"So," Skyler went on. "You think you got it? There's a customer coming soon. Caleb is just about finished with the BMW and I think you could handle it, if you think you're ready."
"Yeah, absolutely," I nodded.
There was no way I was ready, but I wasn't about to tell her that. I was the model employee now. Nod. Smile. Nod again. That's all there was to it.
When Skyler handed off the print-out, I went over the mental check-list that had been drilled into my head all day and put my initials where they needed to go, acutely aware that my new boss was still hovering over my shoulder.
"That looks great, Isabelle."
That hint of surprise in Skyler's voice, with a little bit of pride too, swept away some of the lingering doubt over my ability to fit in here. It was a relief to finally have a good feeling about something again instead of always wondering when things were going to smash headfirst into some concrete. All that goodwill skidded out the window when the door from inside the shop swung open.
Caleb Sawyer sauntered through with that easy, smug swagger I remembered from high school. If he had, in fact, changed since I'd vaguely known him, he sure as hell wasn't demonstrating any sort of maturity and growth now. From what I could tell, he hadn't changed a bit.
The blonde scruff on his chin was coming in a little thicker now and his shoulders seemed broader, filling out that blue work shirt in ways I definitely didn't remember, but he still somehow managed to pull off that overly-long surfer-boy hair he'd always had. When those piercing blue eyes zeroed in on me and his lips twisted into that cocky smirk that had made all the girls swoon, I felt a familiar stirring in my stomach.
As much as I'd hated the way he taunted me, I'd never been completely immune to his well-honed charms either. He was so good-looking it had to be some sort of crime. Any girl with a pair of ovaries was susceptible and I'd forgotten how easy it was to get lost in those clear, ocean-blue eyes.
"Hey," Caleb's lips curved as he spoke, his eyes glimmering with mischief. "Long time no see, huh, Iz?"
And there it was.
Whatever spell he'd just had me under was broken with one stupid word. Hearing it from his lips again might as well have been nails on a chalkboard.
"Looks like I'll be seein' ya around here," he drawled as he walked up to the desk. He passed a pair of keys to his mother, but his eyes never left their target.
"Yeah, I guess so," I replied, all gritted teeth and grimaces.
Two seconds in his presence again and it was like no time had passed.
In light of recent events in my life, Sawyer Auto Repair was the glue that basically held everything together for me right now. So, if working here also meant I had to work with him, I figured I might as well make an effort to remain civil, even if it looked like he wasn't game for that.
"BMW's all set, Ma," Caleb's eyes flitted over to his mother for a brief moment before settling his warm gaze once again on me and God help me, something inside me curled under the weight of it.
As he turned to leave, he waved two fingers in a cocky, mock-salute and I had a sudden vision of myself winding back, slamming my fist into his smug, beautiful face, and sending him flying right through the door.
Ugh. If only it were that easy.
"Nice seein' you, Iz. I take my break in about 20, you in?"
He was still the immature asshole he'd always been and he still knew exactly what to say to burrow under my skin and have me spitting fire in his wake.
Because any way I could possibly respond would make me look like a huge bitch in front of Skyler, the only real option I had was to act like an adult and hold my tongue. Nothing had ever been harder. Seriously.
Caleb was still the boss's son and painting myself in a negative light on my first day was a terrible idea from any angle.
But apparently, my silence was just the answer he was looking for and he winked—he winked—as he strolled back out into the shop. When he was finally gone, I huffed out an angry breath, shoving some hair out of my face in a failed attempt at pretending he hadn't just thrown me completely off-balance.
"Same old shit, different day, huh?" Skyler laughed at my side, clapping a comforting hand on my shoulder.
"He's exactly the same as I remembered," I exhaled and my eyes widened in horror as my brain caught up to my mouth. There were only so many ways she could take that...
"You're absolutely right," Skyler just laughed heartily. "My son hasn't changed much and I suspect I'm gonna be apologizing for him a lot. But, you know, your honesty is pretty damn refreshing. I like that about you."
I wasn't exactly sure how I was supposed to take all that so I fell into employee of the month mode. Nod and smile. Nod and smile.
"His break isn't really in 20 minutes, by the way," Skyler shook her head. "I don't know why he said that just now. Probably just trying to ruffle your feathers or somethin'."
Consider my feathers officially ruffled.
"Yeah, he liked to do that when we were in high school," I replied, running a hand through my hair with escalating anxiety. "I probably shouldn't make it so easy on him."
Skyler just shrugged and flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder. "Best just to ignore him. He's been a moody son of a bitch lately and I have a feeling it's about to get worse."
I nodded, not really wanting to get into the Ariel subject. Skyler's dislike for her son's girlfriend practically oozed from her pores and if our roles were reversed, I'd probably feel the same way. Any girl who tried to convince your only son into moving across the country would be an enemy in my book too.
On the other hand, I couldn't blame Ariel for wanting to leave, even if it meant leaving Caleb behind—the small-town mentality here sucked the life out of anyone who wanted to break out of Claremont and I'd left nothing but skid marks in my wake when I busted out of this town four years ago. But like I'd told Becca the day before, circumstances had changed. This was where I needed to be and in spite of the memories attached to it, this town still felt like home.
>
If Ariel needed to leave, for whatever the reason may be, I guess I couldn't really fault her for that either.
. . .
About an hour later, Skyler practically kicked me out the door to take a break. My head was swimming with new information and procedures and it probably showed. A little air and some Mountain Dew definitely wouldn't kill me.
After grabbing my purse, I hit up the snack and soda machine on my way out and headed straight for the empty picnic table sitting on the small lawn right outside the shop. My shift was barely half over and even though all this new training would take a little while to digest, I could do this. Actually, I kind of liked working here. Skyler, in spite of the rough exterior, was patient, generous, and from what I could tell, not the monster my dad painted in all those horror stories he'd ever told me.
So far, the paperwork part of the job was coming pretty easy, which was a far cry from my last outing in part-time employment. Customer service was a breeze and that probably had something to do with being surrounded by lawyers my entire life. For the most part, this job was just the placeholder I needed until I figured out where the hell to go from here.
With a sigh, I cracked open my soda can and ripped open the bag of pretzels, happily snacking away until flashing from inside my purse caught my attention. Yanking my phone out, I swiped across the screen to flip through my messages: two from Becca and one from my dad, which was a surprise, and then my eyes fell on three new messages from Nick.
My fingers itched to toss the phone across the table.
Why couldn't he just take the hint? We were over and I'd thought that was perfectly clear when I left Duke after my last final in May. I just didn't have the room or the energy in my life right now for a long distance relationship that would never work anyways.
Avoiding him hadn't worked because he was relentless. He just didn't understand why we had to break up in the first place and I was too chickenshit to tell him that other than my life unravelling six months earlier, I just didn't love him. Maybe I might've had feelings for him in the beginning, when things were complication-free, but when push came to shove and my mom lay dying in a hospital bed, Nick wasn't the person I wanted to call. And deep down, that wasn't entirely a surprise.
