More Than Enough (More Than Series, Book 5)

by Jay McLean

  I sniff once. “So you’re telling me this to remind me that he’s not here for a good reason?”

  “No.” Jake smiles—the same sad smile he greeted me with. “I’m telling you this because I was there. I was there when he said goodbye to his friends. I was there when he told his dad he was leaving. I was there when he got on the bus for the first time, waving goodbye to us and to his old life. And I can tell you, for certain, that his actions were louder than his words the day he said goodbye to you. He didn’t find his more than enough by enlisting and deploying, Riley. He found it in you.”

  We stand at the edge of the cliff, hand in hand, staring at the calm of the horizon. “You ready?” Jake asks.

  “I’m ready.”

  “You sure?”

  I face him, nod, and through the giant lump in my throat, I ask, “You think Dylan would be proud of me?”

  Jake smiles. “Riley, Dylan would be proud of you regardless.”

  I inhale deeply. Then, “One. Two. Three.”

  We jump.

  We fall.

  There’s no resistance. Just air surrounding me until I’m submerged, the warmth of the water filling my mouth and my ears. I open my eyes, squinting, searching for him. His hand takes mine, his smile wide beneath the blue of the lake as streams of sunlight create a show of lights. His hand stays with mine as we swim up, gasping for air as soon as we’re clear.

  Then the water in my ears is replaced with shouts and cheers and my name being called from the embankment. Our friends stand at the edge, their fists raised in triumph. “Yeah, Riley!” Lucy shouts, her hands cupped around her mouth.

  I look over at Jake, but he just smiles. “We’re all here for you, Riley.”

  “Are you going again?” Logan shouts as we swim to shore. He’s already shrugging out of his clothes. They all are, though Kayla struggles with Bacon in her arms.

  I nod. My smile matching Jake’s from just a minute ago. “I think I am.”

  We take The Leap a few more times, each time getting easier. And we spend the afternoon talking, laughing and swimming in the lake with Bacon.

  They’ve even brought a portable grill so I think they plan on staying for a while.

  When the sun’s at its highest, more people show up at the lake. People I recognize. People from my class. One of Jeremy’s friends—Lucas—approaches, walking right up to Lucy. “What are you doing here?” he asks her.

  She stands up from her sun bathing position and hugs him quickly. Cam shakes his hand. They all look over at me. Lucas’s smile falters momentarily, before shoving his hands in his pockets, his gaze lowered as he makes his way over.

  I square my shoulders, not knowing what to expect.

  “Hey, Riley.” He stops a few feet in front of me, his eyes meeting mine. “It’s been a long time…”

  I nod, wiping my sweaty palms on my wet legs. “You know Lucy?”

  He laughs once. Not from humor, but probably from the same nerves I’m feeling. “Yeah, she’s my sister.”

  “Really? I didn’t know…”

  “Yeah. She’s not big on claiming me.” He pauses a beat. “So you and Banks?” He smiles up at me, hoping for a reaction, one I don’t have. When enough time passes and he must realize that, he rubs the back of his head and adds, “I’m a sucky friend.”

  My eyes narrow in confusion. “What?”

  “I should’ve reached out to you after everything happened. Especially with the crap people were spreading about you. I knew it was bullshit and I should’ve done something to stop it, but I don’t know…” He shrugs. “By the time I got the balls to do it, you’d already left.”

  “Left?”

  “Yeah. That’s the rumor. That your mom shipped you off somewhere to serve your house arrest…”

  I shake my head in disbelief.

  “Really?” he asks.

  “I’ve been home all this time.”

  “But I came by once—”

  “You did?”

  “—and nobody answered,” he finishes.

  “Oh.” I don’t bother telling him that I was probably too drunk to hear it.

  “I’m sorry, Riley. You would’ve hurt the most of all of us and we just…”

  I shrug and look away. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine. We were all hoping we’d see you here last year but understood why you weren’t.”

  My eyes shift back to him, my head tilted. “Last year?”

  “We came here last year to pay our respects. And we’ve made a pact to come here every year until we’re old and gray,” he says through a chuckle. Then he points to the rest of Jeremy’s friends standing twenty yards away. They’re all watching us. “They’re probably too afraid to come and talk to you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they all feel the same as I do. They feel guilty that we weren’t there for you like we should’ve been… like Jeremy would’ve wanted us to be.”

  I feel the tears prick my eyes, the impact from his words, and the acceptance of forgiveness hit me all at once. “We were all grieving,” I tell him.

  “I suppose. Coming here, remembering him, it helps.”

  I don’t know what to say, so I smile.

  Jake’s beside me now—my substitute protector should I need one.

  Lucas adds, “So listen. We all chipped in and got a plaque made up. We got permission to put it up on the cliff. It’s a piece of Jeremy for eternity and it’d be an honor if you were the one to put him to rest.”

  In loving memory of Jeremy Walters

  Your life is your legacy.

  We will never forget.

  Thirty-Five

  Riley

  Amanda scrunches her nose in disgust as she looks at Mikayla first, then Lucy, then at me. We have Kindles in our hands. They have wine. I have soda. It’s the first time I’ve hosted a book club at my house, which, by the way, is only a book club for the first half hour.

  Amanda sighs, throwing her Kindle on the carpet in front of her. “You know… I don’t mind anal play in books, if that’s what you’re into, have at it! But like, fucking wash the thing before you put it in your mouth. The fucking germs.” She sticks out her tongue, gagging at the thought.

  “That’s what you got from the entire book?” Lucy asks through a laugh.

  “I couldn’t finish it after that. I just kept running to the bathroom to use mouthwash.”

  Mikayla laughs, stopping momentarily to look down at her ringing phone. Her smile fades. “It’s Heidi,” she announces. She takes a breath and holds it, eyeing us all as the phone continues to ring.

  “Are you going to answer?” Lucy asks.

  “I don’t know. I hate lying to her about where we are.”

  “Why would you lie?” I ask.

  Her eyes widen. “I didn’t mean to offend, Riley. I’m sorry. It’s just… it’s…”

  “Awkward,” Lucy chimes in. “It’s nothing against you. I think we make it more awkward than it is.”

  “Wait.” I rear back in surprise. “You guys don’t feel like you have to choose or keep secrets because of us, do you? I mean, if it came down to it, she was your friend first. I’m not going to get in the way of that. Besides, we’ve been in the same room together before—”

  “Yeah, but Dylan has always been there so…” Amanda’s words die in the air.

  “This isn’t middle school. We’re adults,” I tell them. The phone stops ringing, and then starts again a second later. I pick it up and hand it to Micky. “Tell her to come over.”

  “What?!”

  “Yeah. I can be nice.”

  “It’s not you we’re worried about,” Amanda says.

  “You don’t think I could take Heidi?” I roll my eyes. “Please.”

  “Who would win in a fight?” Lucy asks, lost in thought.

  “Amanda,” Micky answers.

  “She’s not fighting,” I tell her. “Tell her to come over and that I want to fight her. I’ll set up a ring in the back
yard. We can settle this right now.”

  “Really?” Lucy says, her eyes wide as she sits up higher. “Fuck yes!” She’s excited. Way too excited.

  Amanda laughs.

  “I was kidding, Luce. Calm down,” I tell her.

  “You really want me to tell her to come over?” Micky asks, her thumb hovering over her phone.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. It’s your funeral.” She answers the call and brings the phone to her ear. “Hey.” Pause. “Yeah, we’re at Riley and Dylan’s.” A longer pause. “Book club. But Riley said you’re welcome to come over.” An even longer pause. Micky’s eyes shift to me. “She wants to fight you.”

  My jaw drops.

  Micky laughs. “I’m kidding. We’re just sitting around now. Amanda killed the book for everyone.” The longest pause in the history of the world. “Sure. I’ll text you the address.” She hangs up and drops the phone to her lap. “She’ll be here in fifteen. She’s bringing gloves.”

  “Gloves?” I ask.

  “Boxing gloves.”

  “Fuck yes!” Lucy shouts, now on her knees, her arms raised in victory.

  Micky laughs. “I’m kidding, Luce.”

  “Stop messing with my emotions!” Lucy yells.

  Fifteen minutes later, Heidi shows up, causing the most awkward half hug in the history of half hugs. She’s carrying a huge duffle bag and holding a plate of brownies. “What’s in the bag?” I ask her, hoping to God she didn’t plan on staying the night. “Just cosmetic stuff.” She shrugs. “I know this is your night—the whole book club thing… it’s just that I don’t really read so…”

  I return her shrug. “Cool.”

  She nods. “Cool.”

  “Hey,” Lucy whispers, her eyes already half hooded from the booze. “Are you guys going to fight? Because I need to make room on my phone to record it. And if you do could you do it in your underwear? Cameron and I would really appreciate it.”

  Ten minutes later and a now empty plate of brownies, we’re all lying on the floor. I’m light headed, and the room is spinning, and Lucy is loud. So damn loud.

  “I could eat an entire truck of faces,” she says.

  “Me too,” Amanda says.

  Micky adds, “Did you guys watch that thing on the thing about the lady who eats her hair?”

  “But did she die?” Heidi asks.

  Lucy says, “My hair smells like the morning dew on a holy sunset and praying elephants.”

  I sit up quickly, gasping, and looking at Heidi. “Where did you get those brownies?” I ask.

  She sits up too, a lot slower than I did. “They were in my fridge. They weren’t that good. My mom sucks at baking.”

  “Heidi.” I shuffle on my knees until I’m in front of her. Reaching out, I shake her shoulders, hating that her hair stays as perfect as her face while I do it. “Is there weed in those brownies?”

  She slaps my hand away, scowling at me. “Why the hell would there be weed? It’s just my parents at home. Why would they have weed brownies? Why is it called weed? And what is brown?”

  Amanda chuckles. “Heidi’s parents are stoners.”

  “Shut up,” Heidi retorts, her face paling as realization sets in.

  Mikayla gasps. “We’re stoners!”

  Heidi clicks her tongue. “You’re all full of shit,” she says, swaying on her feet when she stands up. She walks over to her gigantic bag. “Let me do your face now.”

  “With your vagina?” Lucy asks.

  “Luce!” Heidi squeals.

  Lucy sighs. “I have such strange lesbian tendencies. I apologize.”

  We all giggle like schoolgirls, watching Heidi attempt to apply make up on Mikayla’s face.

  “You look like a clown!” Amanda shouts. She’s louder than Lucy.

  “A sexy clown,” I add, seeing Micky’s frown.

  “You look like a fucking whore!” Lucy yells.

  Micky gasps. “Fuck off. I’d rather be a lesbian with Roxy than with you!”

  Lucy’s gasp matches Micky’s. “That was a low blow.”

  Micky’s gaze drops, her frown back in place. “It was. I’m sorry.”

  “Who’s Roxy?” I ask, fisting a bunch of compacts in Heidi’s bag. I pull them out and drop them on my lap. Then I open one—blue eye shadow. I smear it across my lips and find a brush to apply what I think is blush across my entire face. Because my mind tells me to. And the brush feels so damn good against my skin.

  Lucy says, “Roxy is a fucking cunt of a whore and we shall never speak her name again.”

  “Yeah, Riley,” Amanda spits. “Her name is Dylan.”

  “I thought her name was Roxy,” I mumble using a tube of mascara to paint my nails.

  Heidi turns to me. “What are you doing?”

  “What are you doing?”

  Amanda giggles.

  Out of nowhere, Lucy says, “Hey. Is Dylan a moaner?”

  I throw a brush at her face. “What?”

  “A moaner,” she says, ignoring the brush. “In bed, I mean. Like… does he moan?”

  “I bet he’s just silent,” Kayla says.

  “He’s not a moaner,” I snap.

  And they all shut their mouths and looks down at their hands.

  I add, “He’s more of a grunter.”

  Lucy tries to stifle her laugh.

  “And a talker.”

  “Dylan talks?” Amanda shouts.

  “Yeah, he says dirty, filthy shit in my ear right before I come.”

  “So hot,” Lucy mumbles.

  “Dylan talks?” Amanda shouts again.

  Micky laughs.

  “He never did that with me,” Heidi murmurs.

  Lucy scoffs. “As if you’d be into that anyway.”

  Heidi shrugs. “True.”

  I nudge Heidi’s elbow. “You missed out, Heids.”

  “I bet you’re missing the D,” Micky says.

  “I miss him a lot,” I admit.

  Lucy laughs. “Not D, as in Dylan. She means The D. As in The Dick.”

  My eyes widen. “Oh.” Then I shrug. “Not as much as I miss him.”

  “It must be hard,” Lucy says, a seriousness taking over. “Cam and I spent a few weeks apart and it was hell.”

  “I had a year away from Logan,” Amanda chimes in.

  “A few days, max, for me and Jake,” Kayla says.

  Heidi asks, “What do you miss the most?”

  For a moment, I wonder why she’s asking… if it’s because she’s trying to compare us to see who missed him more. She must realize what I’m thinking because she adds, “I just thought you might like to talk about him. Lucy’s right. It must be so hard.” She smiles, warm and gentle. And I know right away there isn’t a single ounce of malice in her words.

  She’s trying to cross a bridge, and I choose to meet her in the middle.

  I suck in a breath and let it out in a whoosh as I lie back down. The others follow.

  “I miss everything about him. I miss the way he touches me, the way he smells, the sound of his voice—”

  “Dylan talks?!” Amanda yells again, and I laugh.

  “He talks a lot,” I tell her. “And he’s funny. So funny.”

  “Dylan’s funny?!” she shouts.

  We laugh as one, mine ending sooner than the others. I’d done everything I could to ignore how much I’ve been missing him lately but the days are just as hard as the nights now and I’ve tried not to think about what he’s doing and where he is and if he’s safe. I try not to get angry when I think about how hard it is for him to call, just once, just so I can hear his voice and tell him I love him. I tell the girls all this without realizing it, but they never interrupt, never ask questions.

  I wipe my eyes, the pain of longing unbearable. I release another round of tears. Another sob. I’m not the only one crying now, but we do it quietly. Together but apart. “I’m so grateful that he gave me you guys, too, because I don’t know that I’d be able to get through all this without
you and the boys and I appreciate you all so much and I’m sorry if I’ve never told you that.”

  Next to me, Kayla lifts her head. She smiles but she doesn’t speak.

  I add, “I think, what I miss most, is the way he makes me feel. I don’t think he even realizes how important he is in my life. He was my strength when I had none and sometimes I find myself getting lost and I have to dig deep to find my way back. The only way I can do that is because he’s shown me that I can. He has this way of making me smile, making me happy. He makes me laugh when I feel like I can’t. But the best part is that when I believed it to be impossible, he made me love again.”

  Kayla takes my hand, holding it between us as we lay on our backs, looking up at the ceiling. “He’ll come back to you, Riley. He loves you so much.”

  “He made you a car,” Lucy says.

  “And gave you his home,” Amanda chimes in.

  On the other side of me Heidi sighs. “But Riley knows. Right, Riley?”

  “Knows what?” I ask, rolling my head to face her.

  “That it’s not about him giving you a car or a house. Those are just material things—things Dylan doesn’t care about. That was just his way of showing it.”

  “Showing what?” I whisper.

  Her eyes lock on mine. “That he loves you and that he’s creating a future with you, Riley. One that he plans on lasting forever.”

  Thirty-Six

  Riley

  I wake to Sydney in my bed. She wasn’t there last night.

  She’s smiling, creepily. Real creepily.

  Honestly, it wasn’t really a surprise to find her here. Eric had a key to the house and she did tell me she had plans for a belated birthday celebration.

  She takes me clothes shopping, which is odd because it’s rare you’d find me outside of work in anything other than Dylan’s shirts.