Kent’s in much better spirits as well. A flip of the hair reveals soft eyes and a suggestive smile. “What was that for?”
“I’m sorry about yesterday.” I kiss him again.
“Me too. How long is your dad home for?”
“Three more nights,” I sing.
“I’ll never make it.” He pulls me in the house and pushes me against the door until it shuts. The kiss is crazed, quick and unfinished.
An hour later Mr. Daniels takes Matthew to soccer, Mrs. Daniels goes grocery shopping and Patrick leaves for a run. We sneak up to Kent’s room and lock the door.
“I hate when I can’t be with you at night,” Kent says tugging loose the button on my jeans.
“I know but it’s just two more days and tonight we have the concert, so it won’t be that bad.” I help slide them down. We don’t even move the pile of clean clothes off his bed, just fall back and go at it right on top of them. I’m thankful I made the appointment with my doctor so I can go on the pill. We’re careful, but I still get nervous.
Forty minutes later a car pulls in the driveway and we slink back down to the family room before Mrs. Daniels opens the front door. Frenzied and flushed we run past her out the front door offering to carry in the groceries. Outside I notice Kent’s shirt is inside out, he crouches down next to the car and does a quick fix. I stand cover looking back at his house giggling.
Mrs. Daniels unloads the bags we plop down on the counter and glares at us suspiciously. At least I consider the glare to be suspicious. Kent thinks his mother is oblivious. She’s not.
The rest of the afternoon is spent cuddled up in Kent’s arms on the couch watching movies. I don’t leave until it’s time to get ready for the concert.
In less than an hour I’m ready for the concert and back in Kent’s arms ready to drive over together. We lied about what time we needed to be there so we could go on our own and sneak a few private minutes in the front seat of his car. Only a few, I’m wearing a new dress and I don’t want to mess it up. The dress is pale blue and sparkly. I haven’t had a reason to dress up in a long time. I’m excited to be out with Kent and dressed. Up. Dressed up.
The orchestra is phenomenal. Everyone’s hard work pays off. Part of me wishes I could have watched the concert rather than participate in it. At least practice will ease up a little now that the concert’s over. I would love to get a job and start saving some money.
The pretty bouquet of flowers my dad gives me after the concert is so sweet. Then he invites Kent to come to dinner with us. Aw.
The restaurant’s busy and we’re seated at a quiet table in the back corner. A young looking busboy rushes right over and fills our glasses with water. At some point during dinner I plan on telling my father about me and Kent.
“Kent, eighteen now, I hear. Great age, I remember trying hard to keep myself out of trouble best I could back then. What about you, keeping out of trouble?”
“I’m trying.” Kent glances at me and raises his eyebrows.
The waitress comes over and places a bread basket in front of us. I take a roll and shove a big piece in my mouth.
“Robin, I worry about you. I feel bad I’m not home a lot anymore.” My dad puts an arm on the back of my chair. The concerned look on his face makes me feel like a little girl again. Guilt washes over me and I can’t look at him.
“Don’t worry about me, Dad. I’m good.”
“I know you are sweetheart and it makes me feel better knowing you got Kent and his family right across the street keeping an eye on ya. You’re taking good care of my little angel, right Kent?”
Kent stares at me before taking a big gulp from his glass of water. “I am taking excellent care of her,” he says after a loud swallow.
“Good you keep that up.” Dad raises his hand to flag the waitress over.
“You can count on it.” Kent winks at me and I shoot him a look of warning.
“I just want her to be happy and make sure she has everything she needs. Is there anything you need Robin?”
“No Dad, I’m fine. I don’t need anything.”
Kent clasps his hands together and smiles. “So, what you’re saying Robin, is that all your needs are being met?”
I’m going to kill him. I have to force my hands down to keep from reaching over and strangling him. Why is he doing this?
Dad is looking at me waiting for an answer to Kent’s stupid question. “They are,” I answer collectedly.
The rest of the dinner goes smoother, but I decide to hold off telling my dad about my new boyfriend who is making sure all my needs are met.
I go home in my dad’s car but stay outside to talk with Kent before going inside. Once my dad is inside, Kent walks across the street with that dumb smirk, the one that annoys the hell out of me.
“Kent that was awful tonight. I’m really upset. You should feel guilty. All the things we’re doing behind his back is bad enough, but tonight it was like you were trying to throw it in his face or something.”
Kent rolls his eyes. “Are you serious? He had no clue. It was just a few jokes between me and you. That’s all.”
“That’s my Dad, he trusts you and tonight I just felt like you were so disrespectful.”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Hmph.” I cross my arms and look away.
He puts his arms around me lifting me off the ground. “I’m sorry,” he says, shaking me until I finally let a giggle slip out.
Kent gives me a kiss placing me back on my feet. My body reacts to the familiar touch.
“Admit it, you’re gonna miss me tonight.” He grins.
“Good night.” I walk toward my house. I’m not admitting anything. Even though I’m still annoyed, I feel the corners of my mouth turning up in a smile.
“Oh and by the way. You look beautiful tonight. I think I might have messed up a few times on stage noticing the way you sparkled in that dress under the lights.”
I keep walking, but the smile on my face is now huge.
Ten minutes later I’m changed into comfy shorts and a t-shirt sitting next to my dad watching television when I receive a very inappropriate text. Very inappropriate. Extremely.
“I’m going to bed tired and everything see you in the morning Dad.” It’s one big sentence as I hop up from the couch.
This is just wrong I scold myself as my fingers dance over the keyboard of my phone while I bolt up the stairs. The inappropriate texting continues for almost two hours. Kent promises to delete all the texts.
And, um, one picture.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ashley
It’s freezing, the trees are bare; winter has officially arrived.
My body shivers through the thin leather of my jacket as I wait with Patrick at Matthew’s bus stop. The jacket looks good, but it does nothing to protect me from the chilly weather.
“Are you cold?” Patrick blows into his hands to warm them up.
I’m hopping up and down doing anything I can to try and stay warm. “I’m freezing, I need warmth.”
“I told you not to come to the bus stop today.”
“No, I have to. I love seeing Matthew get off the bus.”
“Get over here.” Patrick unzips his heavy coat and pulls me into his toasty chest.
I hesitate before curling myself under his jacket, leaning into the softness of the green sweater. The one I gave him. The one he wears all the time. The one he refers to as his favorite.
I’m immediately warmed, breathing in his inviting scent. With my ear pressed against his chest I concentrate on his heartbeat. The steady sound lures me in. Months of hanging out with Patrick trying to hold back my feelings are building up inside me. I can feel myself losing control. Unsure what to do, I do the only thing I know how. My hand drops to the front of his jeans and I cup my hand over his zipper.
“No.” Patrick lifts my hand away snapping me back to full awareness.
I pry myself away from Patrick’s chest. My body has gone fr
om freezing cold, to overheated in that brief moment. Realization of what I did, and Patrick’s reaction is setting in.
The yellow bus turns the corner before either of us can say anything.
Matthew jumps off the bus and runs ahead of us. “Hi Ashley, bye Ashley,” he says whizzing by.
I start to walk fast. Away from what I just did. Patrick reaches his arm in front of me, slowing me down.
“Ashley, what just happened back there, that’s not what I want,” he says.
Of course, he doesn’t. He can’t be with someone like me. Patrick deserves so much better. I messed up and I’m going to lose him, just like I knew I would. I hate myself. Resentment bubbles up inside of me.
Rage takes over.
“What Patrick? You don’t want to me to start doing stuff with you like I did with Josh? You don’t want me to dress up and be waiting in your room like I did with Kent? Why not? I mean I’ve done things with every other guy in town, so now I should be doing them with you,” I cry out. “Come on, Patrick, it’s your turn.”
Patrick grabs my shoulders. “Ashley stop, that’s not what I’m saying. All this time together and this is what you think of me? That’s what you think I’m saying? I thought you knew me better than that by now.”
“Well you certainly know me. C’mon let’s go. We can put a movie on for Matthew, sneak up to your room and I’ll do whatever you want.” I grab for the front of his jeans again. “Seriously, anything you want. Then you can just leave me. You can tell all your friends about it too.”
Patrick grabs my wrists and jerks them up hard. He waits until I meet his eyes. “How do you not know how I feel about you?”
I look away, I do know. And I realize this is the real reason I’m doing this. For his own good I have to let him go. This will be the hardest thing I ever do.
“I just want to give you a good time. You deserve it putting up with someone like me for so long. You don’t have to worry, it’s not like I fell in love with you or anything.” I let out a cruel laugh at my horrible lie. “Oh my God, you didn’t think I fell in love with you, did you? That’s not my style Patrick. The bad ones don’t fall in love. I tried to warn you.”
Patrick’s eyes go dark and his face ices over, cold and expressionless. “Leave.”
“Gladly.”
I broke him. This perfect male who’s been so good to me, who I’m in love with, I just destroyed.
I’m thankful my keys are in my pocket. I clutch them tightly, breaking the skin of my fingers against the jagged metal edges, until they bleed. My body starts to quake, my knees wobble ready to give up any second. I pray they’ll hold out long enough to get me to the car and drive away.
The door to the Daniels’ house slams shut with such force I hear glass shatter. I refuse to look back.
A block away from the house I pull over and park my car. My whole body shakes as I lean into the steering wheel and cry. I’ve messed up so many things in my life, but never anything this bad, that hurt this much.
Robin
Broken glass is outside the door as we’re walking into the house. The fear settling in only gets worse when Matthew meets us at the door crying.
“What happened? Are you okay?” I bend down wrapping my arms around his trembling little frame.
“I’m okay, but Patrick’s not,” he sniffs.
I’m scared, I have no idea what’s going on. “Kent go check on Patrick and I’ll take Matthew over to my house.” I take Matthew’s hand. “We can make cookies. Won’t that be fun?”
“Can we make some for Patrick?”
“Of course we can.”
“I’ll come get him after I figure out what’s going on.” Kent walks into the house.
Matthew calms down and I lead him across the street. We bake chocolate chip cookies and after they cool I pour us each a glass of milk.
“Feel better now?” He seems better, but he still isn’t saying much. He and Patrick have a very special bond, so if something happened with Patrick, it’s sure to affect Matthew.
He stays real quiet and looks around my kitchen waiting worriedly. Poor kid, my heart breaks for whatever it was he saw. He said Patrick wasn’t hurt, just yelling a lot. I can’t help but assume it has to do with Ashley. We eat our cookies and I try and make him laugh. The cookie I dunk breaks off and sinks to the bottom of my milk. That makes him smile.
There’s a knock on the door. “That’s probably Kent, let’s go see.”
Matthew follows me to the door. It isn’t Kent. It’s Patrick.
He crouches down. “Matthew, I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.” Patrick picks Matthew up and hugs him tight.
“I’m not mad at you, I was just so scared. You were so mad and I didn’t know why.”
“I’m sorry, it wasn’t at you.”
“Were you mad at Ashley?”
Patrick pauses before answering. “No, I wasn’t mad at Ashley. I just had a bad day. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I promise you won’t ever see me like that again.”
“I made you cookies.” Matthew beams up at him.
“Oh, yes!” Patrick pumps his arm excited. “Thank you. I love cookies.”
“Come on, wanna see?”
Patrick follows Matthew into the kitchen with me close behind. Matthew proudly presents him with one of the freshly baked cookies.
“Mmm, so good.” Patrick chews dramatically for effect.
Matthew laughs and hands him another one. Seeing his big brother back to normal has fixed everything. “Robin can I go watch your TV?”
“Go ahead; I’ll pack up some cookies for you to take home.” I’m relieved to see Matthew bouncing back to himself, hopping as he leaves the room.
“Sit down.” I put a plate of cookies on the table and motion to a chair. I sit across from Patrick. “What happened? You look awful.”
“I’m not sure. I tried to give her time. I wanted to make sure she would know I wasn’t in love with her for the wrong reasons. But it didn’t work out that way.” He rests his forehead on the palm of his hands. “She told me she doesn’t love me. I don’t believe her.”
I can’t think of anything to say afraid to look over at his sad eyes.
“What do I do?” he says, looking to me for an answer.
This is not the Patrick I’m used to. I have no answers. Instead I pick up a cookie and lick it before handing it to him, anything to try and get the sad look off his face.
Patrick looks at it shaking his head. He snatches the cookie from me and shoves it into his mouth.
I smile at him and he smiles back.
“You know that I love you, right?” I’ve never said it to him, but it’s the truth. He’s family to me.
“What would I do without my little sis?” He stands up and plants a kiss on top of my head. “I love you, too.”
I put some cookies in a plastic container and hand it to him. “I’ll talk to her if you want.”
“Thank you.” Patrick takes a breath and puts on a happy face before retrieving Matthew. The two of them take off back across the street.
The kitchen’s a mess from the cookies, but I’m not sure when Kent’s coming over. A nap might be a better idea instead of cleaning the mess.
Yesterday my father left for a cross-country haul. This means he’s gone for two full weeks. The full night’s sleep I was getting while my father was home was heaven. I got to spread out comfortably in my own bed, not a shared bed. Four months ago Kent started sneaking over. I hate admitting this, but the excitement is starting to wear off.
Shortly after midnight, two cold feet land on my legs trying to steal my warmth. “Get off, your feet are freezing!” I screech. Why can’t he wear socks, like I keep asking, no more like begging, him to?
Kent moves his feet over and continues telling me about Patrick. “He was just going on and on about strawberry gum, the color yellow, some super-girl outfit. Do you know what any of that means?”
“Super-girl outfit?” I repeat. �
��No, I have no clue what that is.” That is certainly a detail Kent does not need to know about. But how does Patrick know? I think back to the, almost, horrible night. Let’s see, I hurt my finger, Kent came over to help me and sent Patrick to tell Ashley he wouldn’t be back. “Oh my God,” I say out loud realizing what probably happened.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I answer quickly. “I just can’t believe this whole thing with them.”
“He says he’s not even going to school tomorrow. How was Matthew when he was here? Was he okay? You know how he idolizes Patrick.”
“He was better once Patrick came over and talked to him.”
“Good,” Kent finishes up the discussion. “Now, come here, we have to make up for lost time,” he growls pulling me in.
My mind wanders off while we fool around. The drama between Ashley and Patrick, what I’m going to wear to school the next day, and if there are any cookies left in the kitchen.
“You okay?” Kent asks me before we go to sleep.
I tuck a good portion of the blanket underneath myself trying to protect it from being stolen later in the night. “I’m okay,” I say, rolling over and closing my eyes.
After Kent falls asleep I sneak downstairs for a late night snack. The couch looks more appealing than my bed. I grab an old throw blanket, a small accent pillow and set up camp. Curled up on my love seat ready to drift off I think…Am I okay?
I don’t think so.
Ashley
I don’t care anymore. I’m in sweat pants, no make-up on and my hair is stuck up carelessly in a ponytail. I look the way I feel - like pure shit.
“You don’t look so good.” Robin walks alongside me in the parking lot.
I’m a zombie, walking as if I’m dead across the school parking lot. “Who cares?”
“Patrick told me what happened. He’s upset.”
“He’ll get over it.”
“He’s hurt. He didn’t even come to school today.”
“What do you want me to do?” I quip. Is Robin doing this to make me feel worse? Because it isn’t possible.
Fast (The Fast Series) Page 13
