desolate (Grace Trilogy, Book One)

by Autumn Grey

  “I can’t sing to save my life.”

  “That’s the whole point of karaoke. It’s supposed to be fun.” She takes my hand, grabs two glasses and a bottle of brandy. Then we head down the hallway to her room. “I need to change, then we can do our makeup.”

  “Is this what you meant by your version of fun?”

  “Yep. Plus, it will take your mind off what that woman said.”

  “So you and Ivan are pretty serious?” I ask while she’s changing into a slinky black dress.

  I glance down at what I am wearing: denim skirt, my mom’s short-sleeved, white chiffon blouse—I haven’t done laundry this week—and white Chucks. And decide I don’t look too shabby for a karaoke night at a coffee shop.

  MJ shrugs. “I think so, yeah.” She hands me one of the glasses, then plops down on her mat. “His mom doesn’t approve, though. She wants him to find himself a Korean girl.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  “To stick to his roots, I guess. I don’t know.” She tips her glass and gulps down the brandy.

  “But that doesn’t seem fair, considering his mother didn’t stick to her roots.”

  MJ sighs, her face falling. “It’s exhausting sometimes.”

  “Everything will work out. I just know it. I mean, how can someone not love you?”

  “Aw, I love you too, babe.” She smacks a kiss on my cheek. After deciding we’re taking my car, we head to the spot where my Fiat is parked.

  “By the way,” she announces. “Levi’s meeting us there. I’m just letting you know so you can prepare yourself, since, you know, you kicked him in the family jewels the other night.”

  After parting ways with Grace at St. Peter’s, I drove back to the auto shop to start working on Beth’s car. I ordered the parts I needed to fix it, and they were being delivered this afternoon. Grace’s worried face flashes in my mind. She still seemed anxious about that woman’s palm reading. I hope she doesn’t let it get to her. I make a note to text her later to check on her.

  Seth is driving his bike up and down the deserted road. As soon as he sees me, a big grin replaces the ever-present solemn look on his face. I’d completely forgotten I promised him he could watch while I did the brake work on his mom’s car.

  “Hey, Seth. Have you been waiting long?”

  “I just got here.”

  “Great. Come on, let’s get started.”

  My boss, Joe Soltz, is lounging in a wicker chair that has seen better days, sipping beer from a bottle. His favorite auto magazine sits on his lap, his thumb ready to turn to the next page. He lifts the hand holding the beer in our general direction in greeting, before glancing back down. He doesn’t bat an eye when his gaze cuts to Seth. He’s already used to Seth’s impromptu visits. Plus, Joe knows I’m careful when Seth is around.

  Joe is a sixty-year-old, quiet guy, no drama. Happily married to the same woman for thirty years. He has five children. He first took me in when I was fifteen with an itch to learn to repair cars. Next to playing soccer at Winston High, this was my favorite thing to do. I enjoyed fixing things just as much as I loved being part of the Mass.

  Seth trails behind me as we enter the shop, dragging his feet, head bowed like he’s afraid of looking people in the eye. It’s one of his tells whenever he has something on his mind.

  “What’s going on?” I ask,

  “Mom spoke to Father Foster about me, you know, getting baptized. I was kind of wondering if you’d like to be my godfather.”

  “Yeah? That’s awesome, man.”

  He flashes me a bright smile. “Is that a yes?”

  I nod. To be honest, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Seth. He’s grown on me over the years.

  “Awesome.” He brings his fist up and waits until I bump it with mine.

  “All right. Let’s get to work so your mom can have the car back to cart your lazy ass around.”

  He guffaws and yells, “I’m not lazy!”

  Before long, Seth and I are wearing coveralls—well, Seth’s borrowed coveralls are wearing him instead—and are neck deep in motor oil while “Hotel California” by the Eagles blasts across the garage.

  A few hours later, we clean up and head out. I’ll do final touches tomorrow, then do a test drive before Beth comes to collect it. I load Seth’s bike into the back of my truck and usher him in the passenger seat. My phone vibrates inside my pocket, and I pull it out, swiping the screen to read the message.

  Ivan: Dude. It’s karaoke night at Fisher’s. Wanna hang out?

  The time on my phone indicates it’s 6:10 p.m.

  “Hey, I’m heading to Fisher’s after this. Want to come with?” I ask Seth.

  He glances at his wrist watch. “Sure. I have a friend coming over to my house in about an hour from now, so I won’t stay long.”

  Joe’s working on a blue truck at the front of the shop when Seth and I emerge from inside the workshop. I pull out of the parking lot and wave at him as we drive off.

  I park the truck a few blocks away from Fisher’s Gold, lock the doors, and then head to the coffee shop. A guy who looks like he dropped from the Renaissance era is yelling into the microphone, swiping his dark hair from his eyes as he belts out the lyrics from “R.E.S.P.E.C.T.” by Aretha Franklin. Seth chuckles and shakes his head.

  “Think you sing better than that dude?” I tease him, ruffling his hair.

  He rolls his eyes. “Sign me up.”

  I laugh, scanning the almost full room for my friends. And what I see freezes the laughter in my throat. Levi is sitting between MJ and Grace. His blond friend from the concert is nowhere in sight. My hand bunches into a fist, and I growl, “Come on, Seth.”

  Grace laughs at whatever Levi is saying. My stomach churns with acid because that same laugh aimed at him is the same one that makes my heart race.

  “Er, Sol?” Seth calls from beside me. “You okay, bro?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “You kind of look like you’re ready to barf.”

  I glance down at him and grimace. “My stomach feels kinda funny. It will pass.”

  “Yo, dudes.” Ivan waves us over. Three sets of eyes turn in our direction. Grace’s eyes widen in surprise, then a wide grin follows. The smile on Levi’s face disappears fast, replaced by a dip of his eyebrows.

  I nod my head at him in greeting; one of my brows goes up as if to say, “Do you have a problem, man?”

  His gaze shifts to Seth and he reaches his hand across the table, introducing himself to Seth. “Levi Carter.”

  Seth shakes his hand and mutters, “Seth Kruger.” He pulls back his hand and thrusts both of them inside his shorts pockets.

  With the introductions done, I usher Seth to sit on the only available chair at the table next to Ivan, then grab one of the only free chairs from a nearby table and set it next to Seth.

  After ordering a mango smoothie for Seth and an iced coffee for me, I sit back and try to relax. Ivan tries to pull me into conversation, but I can’t stop eavesdropping on the conversation across the table.

  Ivan and MJ high-five each other when a woman at the temporary stage calls their names. They head toward her and grab a microphone each. As usual, they sing “Alone” by Heart.

  I steal a gaze to my right at Levi, and my jaw clenches.

  What is she telling him? What is he telling her? And the moment my eyes fall on her lips, the scene at the confessional booth flashes inside my head.

  Seth elbows me in the ribs, and I wince, ripping my gaze from Grace.

  “What?” I snap at him, then immediately regret my tone. “What is it?”

  “You like her?” Seth asks, forcing my attention back to him.

  I cough once, clear my throat. “She’s just a friend.”

  “But you like her more than a friend. I see the way you’re looking at her.” His eyes bore into mine accusingly.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose with two fingers. “No—I mean, yeah. I’ve known her for a very long time and she, um, I . . .” I
trail off. I can’t lie to him about my feelings for Grace. I’ve done enough lying the past few weeks to last me a lifetime.

  “I thought you wanted to be a priest,” he asks, disappointment filling his features.

  “I do.”

  “Yeah? Is that why you’re looking at her like you want to, I don’t know, kiss her or something?”

  Oh, God. Am I that transparent?

  “Look, why don’t you finish your drink, then we can talk outside, okay?”

  He pushes his chair back and stands up. He stares at me for several seconds, then shakes his head, turns and shuffles toward the door, shoulders stiff and hands shoved in his shorts pockets. The look of disappointment on his face plays on a loop in my mind’s eye, and I panic. I’ve let him down. I’ve let myself down. I need to talk to him. I have no idea what I’ll say, but I can’t let him ride his bike home in anger.

  “Hey. Everything okay?”

  I glance up to find Grace standing next to me.

  I push my chair back and get to my feet. “Everything’s fine.” My voice comes out much harsher than I intended.

  Grace flinches and takes a step back. “Okay! You don’t have to bite my head off.”

  I sigh wearily. “I’m sorry.” I glance out the window where Seth is pacing in front of Fisher’s Gold, his fingers linked on the back of his head. “I need to go talk to him.”

  My gaze cuts over to Levi, then back to Grace. She’s probably much better off with him or someone else than hanging around a conflicted jackass like me.

  I open my mouth to tell her exactly that, but snap it shut as I remember something my uncle used to tell me when he started mentoring me. Your words have the power to comfort, break, or encourage someone. So be very careful what you say.

  “Hey, could you let Ivan know I took Seth home?”

  She nods, watching me with those beautiful eyes that say so much, yet so little. And I know without a doubt, that’s the part of her I’m going to miss the most.

  Seth is no longer pacing outside Fisher’s Gold. I scan the area and catch a glimpse of him already stalking toward the spot where I parked my truck. I jog after him, my mind racing through different excuses, anything, to explain to this boy who let me into his life and trusts me. But all I see is the way he looked at me before he fled the coffee shop.

  He stops at the back of the truck and unlatches the tailgate rear door, then clambers onto the truck bed.

  “Seth, wait!”

  Seth stops long enough to send me a glare over his shoulder, then grabs the handlebars of his bike. He drags it across the bed, then hops down from the truck and proceeds to try lifting it up.

  I grip one of the bars with one hand, halting his progress. “Can we talk?”

  “What’s there to talk about?”

  “You can’t ride your bike home like this. You’re angry and besides, it’s getting dark.” I loosen my hold, then ask again in a softer tone, “Can we talk?”

  “I can’t talk to you right now.” The bike jerks as he tries to pull it out again, then grunts in frustration. “Just leave me alone.”

  I rub the back of my neck. “Okay, fine. Just let me drop you home.”

  “Why do you even bother?”

  I wait until he meets my gaze. “Because I care. You’re like a brother to me, Seth.” I let my walls down and lay myself bare. “I care.”

  His nostrils flare as his lips press in a thin line. Just when I think he’s going to shut me down, he exhales, his eyes filling with tears.

  “I still don’t want to talk to you,” he mutters as he releases the bike and shuffles around the truck. I sigh in relief when I hear the door open and shut a few seconds later. I dig out my keys from my pocket, bracing myself before joining Seth in the front seat.

  I yank the cap from my head and toss it on the dashboard, then drag my fingers through my hair. How do I start explaining to him about the connection I feel when it comes to Grace? Would he understand, despite his past experience with the Catholic Church? I’d promised to be the change. And what does that make me? Admittedly, I was thirteen, and I didn’t understand that I could ever feel what I feel for someone, anyone, as I feel for Grace.

  But I have to try.

  “Can I say something?”

  He continues to stare ahead without acknowledging me, his arms crossed on his chest and one leg bouncing,

  I forge ahead. “I never make a promise I can’t keep. Despite what you saw back there, I’m still pursuing this path.”

  His gaze cuts to me, still doubtful. “What about her?”

  “I like her very much,” I admit. “But that’s it.”

  A lump forms in my throat. I swallow the lie, forcing it down until it settles in my gut, heavy and nauseating.

  He looks out the window. I choose to stay silent and give him time to think about what I just said as I continue to drive.

  By the time I drop Seth outside his building, he seems calmer. I’m about to drive off when he taps the window on the passenger side. I lean over and roll down the window.

  He clears this throat, his eyes averted to the space above my shoulder. “Uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go psycho on you.”

  “Warn me next time, man.” I chuckle, despite the brick in my stomach.

  He laughs. “Sure thing.”

  “So, are you two, like, together or something?” Levi asks.

  I blink twice, then take a deep breath to keep my shit together. I drag my gaze from the door as it closes behind Sol and face Levi. He studies me with curious chocolate-brown eyes.

  “It’s complicated,” I mutter, reaching for my glass of water and gulping down its contents.

  “Isn’t he like—”

  I set the now-empty glass on the table and face him again, a ball of irritation burning in my chest. “How is this any of your business?”

  He blinks several times, obviously taken aback by my snappish tone, and says, “I was just wondering—”

  “Well, stop, okay?” I turn my attention to the stage just as Ivan and MJ finish singing the song “Alone.” “You don’t hear me asking about your girlfriend or whatever.”

  He averts his gaze to the couple now heading in our direction and scratches his head, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “We’re on a break.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “I see. So you decided to put a four-hour drive between you two?”

  Those soulful eyes return to me. With his shaggy dirty blond hair and that look on his face, he reminds me of a tortured artist. “Something like that.”

  MJ plops on the chair next to me and throws her arms around me in a tight hug. “I’m so high on singing.” She glances around and frowns. “Where did Sol and Seth go?”

  “They left. You guys were amazing!” I gush, hoping to steer her away from her question. Subtly, my gaze darts to the clock on the wall where the coffee-making machines are located, wanting nothing more than to go home and wallow in misery.

  I should ignore the pain burning worse than heartburn in my chest, but Seth’s words keep replaying in my head and the look on Sol’s face haunts me.

  “Maybe you and Levi should sign up to sing.”

  I shake my head, give her a quick hug, and stand up. “I think I’ll head out, too.”

  She searches my face, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Call me later?”

  “Sure, yeah.” I smile and grab my purse. After waving goodbye, I leave Fisher’s Gold and head to the spot I parked my car. Inhaling deeply, I breathe out frustration and chaos to clear my head. To be honest, I don’t think I have enough strength to dwell on any thoughts of Sol.

  I scroll through my phone and tap Adrenaline playlist on the screen, then hit play. Thoughts of Sol and Seth are pushed in the back of my mind as “Shut Up And Drive” by Rihanna blasts through the car speakers.

  I know the time is coming when I’ll have to be strong enough to let go of Sol. I need to prepare my reckless heart, and I need to do it soon.

  After that day Sol and I
kissed in the confessional, followed by him showing up with Seth at Fisher’s Gold, we haven’t really talked again. I left a few minutes after he stalked out of the coffee shop, despite MJ, Ivan, and Levi protesting. I have no idea what’s going on with Sol. Every time I hold the phone in my hand ready to call him, I set it back on the table, choosing to give him time to sort himself out. Like I said at Old Orchard on the Fourth of July, spending less time together might help. Not being able to talk to him or see him hurts like a bitch, but if it makes things easier, then I’m staying away.

  On Saturday morning, I walk into the kitchen dressed in my sleeping shorts and a T-shirt to find my mom leaning on the counter. Her favorite mug full of steaming coffee is on the counter in front of her, clutched in her tight grip. Beverly usually opens the diner on Saturday, which means Mom will be closing later.

  Mom jolts upright when she sees me, her hands knocking over the mug.

  “Shit,” she mutters, turning around and grabbing some paper towels from the roll next to the sink.

  I watch as she cleans up the mess, noticing how her hands tremble.

  “Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” she greets belatedly, tossing a smile over her shoulder at me, but instead of her usual genuine happy smile, it looks strained.

  It’s obvious she’s trying hard to look cheerful but failing miserably.

  “Yes.” I lean against the laminated counter, fold my arms over my chest, and watch her, wishing I could read her. “Mom, you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

  Her body visibly tenses. When she doesn’t answer me after several seconds, I step closer and rest my hand on her shoulder.

  “You’d tell me, right?” I repeat, my stomach churning with worry. I’ve never seen her so unnerved.

  “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Sure.” Trepidation forms a lump in my throat as I follow her into the living room.

  I sit on the edge of the brown couch and fold my hands in my lap to stop them from shaking. I don’t know why I’m shaking, but her tone worries me.