Dylan pulls over, but doesn’t shut off the engine. She stares out the window at the open space. Wheat fields are all you can see. If you look long enough, stare hard enough, the sky touches the never-ending fields. It’s a cool illusion when you’re a kid and you’re out here looking. But looking at it now makes me want to run until I can reach the edge where the two connect and hope there’s something better for me out there.
“My dad knows his officer hit you. So does my mom. He’s pissed. You know he doesn’t condone violence at the station. She’s upset, angry. They fought and when your mom called she threw the phone at my dad. I don’t know anything else except that Hadley’s gone.”
“Yeah,” I say, for lack of anything better to add. I’m not sure how to respond or if there’s even a right thing to say.
“You’re coming back to my house. My dad will apologize and take care of things at the station. I know you made the first move or whatever, but that doesn’t give Daniels the right to hurt you like that. He knows better and for him to hit you…” she trails off, wiping more tears from her cheeks. “Anyway, Mom says you're staying with us.”
Dylan puts her car in drive and turns back onto the road, heading toward her house. I never expected I’d be staying with her, or that her mom would react the way she did, but to say I’m thankful would be an understatement. Maybe I can leave when I’m eighteen as planned. Take what money I have saved and buy a bus ticket out of here. That was my plan until I met Hadley and now everything has changed.
Mrs. Ross is standing at the door when we walk in. She takes me in her arms, enveloping me the way a mom should. Dylan joins us and they cry. I don’t understand why they’re both crying. I’m not, but I should be. Maybe this hasn’t sunk in yet, or I need to be away from people. I can feel the ache in my heart getting stronger and know it’s just a matter of time before everything explodes. When she releases us, she pats down my hair, avoiding eye contact. I know she’s staring at my lip. She looks up and smiles as she cups my cheeks.
“Come you two, I made brownies.”
Dylan pushes my shoulder to get my feet moving. The smell of freshly baked brownies makes my stomach growl. I realize I haven’t eaten since the night before, not that I know what time it is now, but I’m starving. We sit across from each other, each with our own plate and a glass of milk. I devour mine, while she picks at hers. I snatch one off her plate before she can slap my hand and stuff it in my mouth. This is the only time I get sweets like this; my mom would never dream of baking anything.
Mr. Ross comes in and sits down across from me. Dylan rolls her eyes at him. She gets up and moves to the sink, taking her coveted brownies with her. Mrs. Ross joins us, choosing to sit down next to me. Mr. Ross clears his throat and lays his hands on the table.
“Officer Daniels was a bit out of line when he punched you. I’ve always treated you as if you were my own and I expect my department to do the same. Today they treated you like every other teenager we deal with when it probably wasn’t necessary. We should’ve re-evaluated and listened to what you were telling us. I’m sorry, Ryan.”
“Okay.” I say, not sure how to respond. I’ve never had an adult apologize to me before, but I’ve also never had an adult hit me either. Today was a whole slew of firsts for me. “Thank you,” I add for good measure.
“What happened to your neck?” he asks. My hand instantly goes to my neck and rubs it. My skin is raw and hurts to touch. I pull my hand away and shake my head. “What about your chin?” I look down at my empty brownie plate to avoid answering.
His chair scrapes the floor and before I know it, he’s on the side of me. He bends and kisses Mrs. Ross on the cheek and sets his hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me, I can figure it out by the look on your face. You’ll stay in the guest bedroom until you’re ready to go home.” He pats my shoulder one more time before walking away. I jump slightly when the front door slams shut.
“You know where everything is,” Mrs. Ross says as she gets up, but not before placing a kiss on my cheek. The way she treats me makes me realize how inept my mother is with her feelings, but then again, she did call Dylan and ask her to come pick me up, so maybe there is some hope.
The bed is a welcome comfort, much softer than the one I have at home. I helped paint this room last summer. Dylan calls it bleached green; her mom calls it sage.
I lean back, rolling over on my side to look out the window. The dark sky is settling in even though it’s not yet dinnertime. It’s only going to continue to get dark this early. I hate winter. The cold, dark nights leave so much to be desired. Thoughts of the last few days replay in my mind as I focus on the swaying tree outside the window. The pictures of Hadley, the way she told me she loved me, the car. It all seems like a blur, like a dream really. I close my eyes and wish that when I open them I’d be holding her, her skin pressed against me, my lips finding hers in the dark. I want to be back in the car, holding her and not saying no, not holding back from what we both wanted so desperately.
I pull out my phone and try Hadley again. My text sits there, not delivering, staring back at me. Her picture mocks me; she’s smiling, but I’m not. I don’t want to believe that I can’t reach her, that we can’t at least text. I don’t want to believe that she’s made it impossible for us to talk. Why would she do that? I close my eyes and fight the tears. I will not cry. I won’t. I’m not an emotional person and I’m definitely not starting now. I guess that’s a trait I’ve learned from my parents. No emotion so people don’t think any less of you.
I roll over and scream into the pillow, my fist pounding into the bed. I’m trying to be quiet, but know they can hear me. Why did she leave me? Tears stream down my face. I wipe them away angrily, unable to stop their flow. I’m not supposed to cry. Guys don’t cry. Yet here I am, crying like a damn baby because my girlfriend just dumped me.
She dumped me.
I say the words over and over in my head and don’t want to believe them. My body hurts. My hand rests on my chest, my fingers tugging at my shirt trying to ease the pain. She’s gone and there’s no saving our relationship. She left me. She left me behind after promising me so much.
I shouldn’t stay here. I should go as planned. Leave when I turn eighteen. I have enough saved for a bus ticket. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll go to New York and look for her. Age won’t matter then. We can be together.
The bedroom door squeaks open. I don’t have to turn around to know that it’s Dylan. She sets something on the table beside my bed and sits down. She’s so tiny the bed doesn’t even dip.
I startle when she reaches out and touches me. Her arm wraps around my waist and she rests her body along mine. She gets as close as humanly possible. We’ve never been like this and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
“Ryan,” she whispers my name so softly it reminds me of Hadley saying my name earlier. I try to block that imagine out of my mind, but I can’t. From the sound of her name to her leaving me at the police station, I can’t shake it.
“I know you’re hurting. I know it’s not the same, but I’ve been there. I’ve been in love and it hurts like hell when you’re not ready to quit and someone else is. Things get better, I promise you. And I also promise you that whatever happened this weekend and what’s going on now, no one will ever know about it from me. I’ll keep your secrets, Ryan.”
I roll over and pull Dylan’s hand into mine, not afraid to let her see how much I’m hurting.
“You’ll be okay,” she whispers. She rests her head on my chest and holds me while my heart shatters into a million pieces.
CHAPTER 32
Hadley
Waking up in my childhood bedroom isn’t anything like what you see on television. My room isn’t bubblegum pink with posters of boy bands adorning the walls. My prom queen tiara isn’t hanging from my vanity with my singing trophies. Nothing like that exists in this room. Now, this is where guests sleep. They crawl into a queen-sized bed with decorative pillows. T
hey can watch TV on the flat screen mounted to the wall. They never know that this used to be a girl’s room.
The walls are yellow, it’s calming and inviting according to my mom. I have no problem sleeping here. In fact, I like it. It brings back memories. Sometimes I miss the safety of my parents' house. I bury myself deeper into the pillows. I don’t want to start the day. I don’t want to think about yesterday and what it means. I don’t want to constantly check my phone hoping he’ll call, knowing that he can’t. Maybe I shouldn’t have turned off his phone, but I had to. I’d be too tempted to contact him. The desire to hear his voice is already pounding in my head.
My parents took today off work to help me deal with Ian. I told them it wasn’t necessary, but they insisted. My dad said I’m still his baby girl and if he wants a day off to watch over me, no one is going to stop him. I didn’t want to show him how much his words had affected me, so I curled up on the couch and rested my head on his leg. My mom sat at the other end holding my legs, much like they do when I’m sick.
I finally drag myself out of bed and into the kitchen. Dad's cooking and Mom's sitting at the bar sipping her requisite cup of coffee and reading the paper. I sit on the stool next to her and steal a piece of her toast.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Dad smiles at me as I sit down.
I shrug. “Whatever you’re making is fine.”
He winks before turning back to the stove. Mom pushes the rest of her toast over to me as she closes the newspaper. “How’d you sleep?”
“Fine, actually. But anything is better than a hotel bed.”
“I don’t know why you insist on staying in a hotel when you’re in L.A. Why not just buy a place?”
“Because I don’t want to live there, Mom,” I say as I pick at the toast. My dad sets down a plate with eggs over easy, bacon and hash browns.
“What time will Ian be here?” she asks. I look at the clock and sigh. He and Cole took the red-eye, which arrives in New York at six and that means any minute.
“They're probably on their way now unless they checked into the hotel first.”
“Well, it will be good to see Cole.”
I give my mom the stink eye. I know she loves him, but come on. She puts her hand on my wrist and gives it a squeeze.
“I’m just saying it will be nice, not that I want you guys back together.”
“Uh huh.”
I give her a kiss on her cheek and head back to my room. I dig through my old dresser for some sweats and a t-shirt. I wasn’t planning on staying the night, but as soon as Mom came home last night I realized that I needed my parents.
I quickly hop in the shower. I know Ian will be here soon. He never misses an opportunity to rub it into my parents that he controls my everyday life. But after getting me out of that mess in Brookfield, I owe him. I have no idea how he plans to collect, but I’ll be ready. I have to be the good little girl from here on out. No more messing up.
No more falling in love.
Ian and Cole are here when I’m finally presentable. Well, as presentable as I’m going to get while lounging at my parents’. My hair is up in a messy bun, no make-up on and I’m wearing a tank top and sweatpants with flip-flops. Everyone stops talking when I walk into the kitchen. Ian looks at me and says nothing and shakes his head, but it’s Cole and the way that he looks at me that makes me smile despite how I feel about him. He’s frozen mid-bite, his mouth hanging open and spoon dripping milk back into his bowl of cereal.
Some things never change.
“Close your mouth, dear; no one likes to see what you’re eating,” Mom says to Cole, making me laugh. He closes his mouth and clears his throat. I sit down next to him, his eyes watching my every move. Creeper. Ian is across from me, a pile of papers in front of him. He picks them up, shuffling them around. Dad pulls out a chair and takes a seat, my mom following suit. I guess this is it. Time to detail how messed up I am and what I have to do to fix it.
“Last week we had a discussion about your behavior. I admit I employed some shady ploys to keep you in your hotel, but when I tell you that I did those things to keep you safe, I mean it.”
“I know,” I say, catching Ian off guard. He looks up quickly, his bangs falling in his face. That’s the one thing about Ian that I’ve always liked: he doesn’t look like a manager. He’s not walking around in a suit and tie, carrying a briefcase. He’s dressed for the music scene.
“You know?”
“Yes. I can see that now.”
“It took you getting arrested to see that I’m only trying to help?”
I put my face in my hands and sigh. I feel Cole’s hand resting on my leg, his way of showing comfort. I wipe away an errant tear and look at Ian. “That was a wake-up call. I’m not going to apologize for Ryan. I’m in love with him, but I’m not healthy for him.”
“He’s a distraction.” I don’t agree or disagree with Ian. He’s right. At least that's what I’m going to tell myself. It’s not going to matter how bad it hurts or how much my heart is breaking. Ian’s right. “Can you promise me he won’t be a distraction during the tour?”
As much as I hate it, I nod. “I promise.”
“Last night a reporter called and is giving me until the end of today to give him something juicy on you. Your rental car was reported in the parking lot. He heard it on his scanner and he started digging. He knows you were arrested, but doesn’t know why. I can make this go away or we can let him run with the article, your choice.”
I lean back, preparing myself for the inevitable. “What do I have to do to make it go away?”
“You’re going to go public with Cole. This reporter will get an exclusive and he’ll be happy.” Cole’s hand tenses on my leg. He didn’t know about this. Something like this will surely ruin his bachelor status. He’ll have to play nice as well. He can’t afford another cheating scandal.
“Cole and I aren’t together.”
“You’ll act it each time you leave the tour bus or hotel. I’m not saying you need to kiss him in public, but you’ll hold hands, feed each other ice cream – hell, you’ll even allow him to put sunscreen on your back. I don’t care what it is, you’re together.”
“How does that help Hadley’s image?” I’m so thankful my dad speaks up, because I don’t know if I can get the words out.
Ian leans back in the chair, looking at my dad. “She needs someone the media likes and that’s Cole. They’ve been together before and with them being on tour, it’s expected. The tour is short, so they only have to act for a while.”
“I don’t like it,” Mom adds. “I don’t see how it helps.”
“See, Liberty, that is why this is my job. This reporter is going to write an article about your daughter being arrested. Along with that article, he’ll dig and find out why. Would you rather her pretend to be with Cole, a man she knows, or would you rather her be disgraced for screwing around with a seventeen year old? Because if it’s the latter, I can guarantee you this will be her last tour for a long time. No one will want her around.”
My mom gets up from the table and walks into the kitchen and starts slamming cupboards. I can’t imagine what it was like to grow up with Ian as your brother. He’s entirely too bossy for my liking.
“What about you, Austin? Are you willing to go along with this sham so I can get your daughter on the straight and narrow?”
“I’m with Libby, but I also don’t want Hadley’s name dragged through the mud. I’ll support whatever Hadley decides to do.”
Cole leans into me, his scruff tickling my cheek. “I’ll do whatever you want,” he whispers in my ear. I nod and move away slightly. I can’t have him this close.
“Fine,” I say, looking away from Ian.
“You know things could be worse, Hadley.”
“I know.” I can’t take any more of this intervention. I get up, grab my hoodie and head outside. I need fresh air. I sit in the rocking chair on the back deck and watch a bird look for food. Doesn’t he kn
ow he should be south by now? The door opens and closes. I can tell by the overwhelming scent of his cologne that it's Cole. He sits down and starts swinging us back and forth. I hate that he can do that and I can’t. It sucks being short.
“You screwed up, Hadley Girl.”
“Shut up, Coleman, I don’t need to hear it from you, too.”
“What’s this guy got?”
I look away so he doesn’t see my tears. I’m not sure I can explain it to Cole without hurting his feelings. Cole and I were in love once and I thought that was enough, but with Ryan, it’s so different, I can’t explain it.
“You can tell me, ya know.”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“Do you love him?”
I nod.
“More than you loved me?”
“That’s not fair.”
He reaches over and pulls my chin toward him. He wipes my tears away. “Hadley, it’s okay to love someone else. What we had was great and I screwed that up. I was young and stupid, but if I could change it, I would. I never wanted to hurt you. If you’re in love with this guy, then he’s the luckiest guy I know.” His voice is so quiet and soft. I know why I loved him so much. He pulls me into his arms and holds me. The sad thing is, this isn’t acting. He’s being genuine.
“I can’t be with him. I’m not good for him and it was stupid for me to even think I could have something with someone who isn’t part of my crazy life.”
“You’re life isn’t crazy; it’s normal.”
“It’s anything but normal, Cole.”
Cole leans away so he can see my face. “Don’t worry, I’ll make everything better.”
Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of. If Ryan was an error in judgment, Cole is a colossal mistake.
CHAPTER 33
Ryan
I missed a week of school thanks to Dylan. It was at her insistence that I not go to school until the bruising around my neck was less visible. I told her it wouldn’t work, but she forged a note from my mom saying I was ill.
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