When Our Worlds Stand Still
Page 4
“I can come to you before school starts,” I offer, desperate for a solution.
His lips graze my forehead in the sweetest of kisses. “We’ll figure it out. This isn’t the last time we’ll see each other.”
We stand in the middle of his driveway, holding each other for what seems like hours, but is only a few minutes. Once he’s behind the wheel, everything will change. My head and my heart aren’t ready for what that can mean.
Graham reaches around my trembling body to dig through his backpack, withdrawing a white envelope and a small box wrapped in gold paper.
“What is this?” I ask through a hiccup.
“It’s for you. Open it when you really start to miss me.” Graham smirks, knowing very well I’ll open the box as soon as he backs out of the driveway. He checks his watch and sighs.
“It’s time, isn’t it?” My lips turn down with my mood.
“You’re stronger than you think, Ken. I’m not what makes you strong, so please remember that. Keep your shoulders back and your head held high. You’ve earned the right to feel confident.”
I brush the tears away to take in his ungodly perfect features. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” He shrugs.
“Say the right thing at the exact moment when I need to hear it.” I rest my head on his chest.
His warm, strong hands wrap around my back, tickling my spine with his fingertips. “Because I know you, and I know your head is racing to unnecessary depths.” He holds me at arm’s length. “You’re going to be okay, even when it’s hard. You’ll survive this because you’re strong and resilient.”
“How can you be sure?”
“You survived the past two years, Kennedy. Nothing can hold you back unless you let it. You’re due a little fun and freedom from this place.” Graham motions to the space around us, referring to this town that sometimes feels like it has a choke hold on us both.
“We’re both due a little freedom from this place, Graham.”
“As soon as I get there, I’ll call you. We’ll talk every day and FaceTime,” he assures me.
Our lips graze, and the heat from his skin radiates onto mine. With my hands wrapped around his shoulders, I jump to bind my legs around him. He turns until I’m sitting on the hood of his car.
“I’m going to miss this,” I say, running my hands up and down his arms.
He closes the small gap and runs his tongue along the seam of my lips. “I’m going to miss this, too.”
Fifteen minutes later, he pulls out of the driveway, leaving me with a blotchy, tear-stained face, and a box I’m too afraid to open. There’s a finality to him driving away. It looms over me until I can barely take it, and when it becomes too much, I rip away the gold paper. Underneath the lid is a bangle bracelet with a compass charm. At first, I’m confused until I read the small white card.
The past year and a half hasn’t been easy on either of us, but one thing is true, Kennedy. We both survived, and I’d like to believe it’s because we had each other, even when we didn’t. Prom night, I told you I was born to find you. Whenever you look down at this bracelet, know, no matter where we end up, I will find my way back to you. I love you, Kennedy Conrad. Nothing in this world can keep me away.
I slide down the door of my car and cry, rubbing my fingertips over the beautiful, gold compass charm. A small splinter of hope pierces my heart once again.
“What you feel for Graham, I think I could have with Mark. Something’s different about him, Kennedy. He’s not like any guy I’ve ever met,” Bea explains, dragging me from my memory.
“My mom believes some of us can know, the moment we meet someone, that they have the capacity to change us, move us to be someone we never thought imaginable. When that happens, we need to have hope they will find it within themselves.”
“Basically, you’re telling me to take a leap of faith?” she questions.
I shrug. “You’re here, aren’t you? It would seem to me that you’ve already taken the leap.”
Bea quiets and turns her entire body to lean against the cold window. I press against the headrest. My eyes shut, and I rub the face of the compass between two fingers. The all-too-familiar burn radiates behind my eyelids. My bottom lip quivers, and a warm hand links with mine. I don’t need to open my eyes to sense Amanda’s presence.
No words need to be said. She’s been witness to the small motion over the past year. The ritual is pointless, a security blanket almost, a glimmer of hope in the vastness of all the hopelessness.
*****
“Well, ladies, we’re here.”
Dan’s voice startles me to a more alert position. Everyone is picking up trash and grabbing their bags.
In front of me is a beautiful, Tudor-style home. The gray paint and the gorgeous white trim sets it apart from the others on the street. The steep roof. The decorative timber. The embellished doors and windows. The side gables. The stone chimney. This is my dream house, almost to a scary, vivid exactness. I step onto the sidewalk, lost in my imagination.
Dan strides up next to me. “Who lives here?” I ask.
“I don’t got a clue. This is the address Mark texted me,” he answers, admiring the same details as me.
“I thought we were staying in a hotel,” Amanda says as she comes to my other side.
“Once Mark heard we were going to be in Connecticut, he refused to let us stay anywhere else. Something about having plenty of space.” Dan gestures to the house.
Violet laughs. “Clearly.”
The front door slams. Mark jogs down the walkway. His gaze moves across the group until his baby blues find Bea. She fidgets from foot to foot, her eyes zeroed in on the crack running the width of the cement path.
Amanda elbows an unaware Bea, pointing to Mark, who’s patiently waiting to be noticed. When Bea’s eyes snap up, Mark laughs, closes the distance between them, and scoops her up in his arms and spins her around. “I didn’t know you were coming.” The brown curls on her head swish around her face until he sets her safely on the ground.
“I hope it’s okay. I don’t mean to impose.” Bea rubs her palms up and down her jean-clad thighs.
“Don’t be silly. I’m happy you’re here.” Mark turns to the rest of us. “I’m happy you’re all here.”
I grab my two bags from the backseat and follow Mark inside. Warmth hits my face when we walk through the large door into a gorgeous foyer. A small table full of mail and car keys sits in front of us with a large silver mirror above it. The décor in this place appears to have been done by a professional. I don’t think college guys are capable of what this house has to offer.
Gorgeous navy fabrics and gold accents with silver undertones run throughout the main living area. Everything about this place is comfortable. The bright lighting illuminates the room to its full potential, making any visitor stop and appreciate the surroundings.
We drop our luggage at the bottom of the stairs and follow Mark into the enormous kitchen with marble countertops and dark-stained cabinets. A group of guys sits at a circular table. One of them I recognize as Beckett.
The largest of the six stands and saunters over to us. Dark hair hangs in his eyes, but he does us a favor by brushing it away to expose his striking brown eyes.
“Hi, I’m Amanda, and you are?” Amanda steps in front of us, her hand extended.
The Greek god smirks, showcasing a single dimple on his left cheek. “I’m Rick, but everyone calls me Rico. What are you doing in my house, beautiful?” He shakes her hand, keeping a tight hold.
“Your house?” Mark scoffs from beside me.
“I pay rent, don’t I?” Rick rebuts, sending a warning to Mark.
“Rico, eh? Like Suave?” Amanda laughs, biting her bottom lip.
“I guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.” He pulls her close.
Mark clears his throat to break up the weird sexual tension between the two. “Rico, this is Amanda, Kennedy, Dan, Violet, and Bea.” Mark points to each of us, then tu
rns to the rest of the guys. “Everyone, that over there is Griffin, Shaun, Elliot, Beckett, and Levi.”
Amanda turns around and grins at us, pulling Rick with her. “Let me guess, you all went to private school and were captains of your row teams?” They each nod, and she turns with wide eyes for the rest of us. “We are in Connecticut, aren’t we?”
“Born and raised, ladies,” Griffin announces with a wink.
“He has a girlfriend,” Rick blurts, then his disapproving eyes shoot back to Mark. “And does Graham know you have all these people coming to stay?”
My throat swells when I hear his name. My vision blurs and an ache builds in my stomach. At the same time I let out a forced breath, a loud gasp rings in my ears. I tell myself there’s probably a million Grahams in the world. It isn’t my Graham.
And then the familiar electric charge runs up my spine.
“Does Graham know what?” a strong, deep voice says from behind me.
As if I’ve been hit by a raging bull, I rest my hands on my knees to catch my racing breath. I twirl in the direction of the familiar voice to find his honey-filled eyes searing into me. Everything around me sounds muffled.
Graham’s here, right in front of me.
“Kennedy,” Graham whispers.
With my right hand, I rub the compass resting on my left wrist. His eyes follow my movement, and with a small nod of his head, he takes a deep breath.
“I can explain.” He removes the Yankees hat from his head and tosses it on the counter.
“This is your place?” This shouldn’t be my first worry, but for some reason, this is what falls from my mouth.
“This is my house.” He takes a step toward me.
Violet pulls Dan from my side. Amanda whispers to Bea and her eyes widen.
“No, this is my house,” I whisper, tears resting on the rims of my eyes.
“Maybe.” He takes another step.
“Is anyone going to tell us what the hell is going on?” Rick’s voice breaks through the strange standoff between Graham and me. I assume Amanda whacks him across the stomach by the smack I hear, followed by his loud grunt. “Graham, who is this?”
“His past.” I move away from his path he has every intention of following.
Graham breaks the stare-off and glares over my shoulder at Rick. When his gaze falls back to me, his eyes are soft and inviting. “My future.”
I shake my head and press my eyelids to stop the tears from falling.
Rick lets out a loud groan. “Okay, this is getting too weird for me. Does anyone want to go grab breakfast somewhere else, anywhere else but here?”
“We do,” Amanda announces, happily, bouncing beside me.
I glare at her for abandoning me in this situation, leaving me alone with him.
Violet wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes. “I’m not sure why he’s here, and I promise you I didn’t know.” She turns a questioning glare on Graham. “You look frumpy by the way.”
“It’s nice to see you, too, Violet.” His eyebrow perks up, and he chuckles. “And no, I don’t.” He lifts his shirt, showing off the tight abs that have multiplied since high school. His delicious V peeks out, and I roll my eyes at the effect it has on me.
My best friend looks back at me and gives me one of those I-know-you’re-not-happy, but-look-on-the-bright-side stares. “Good luck. We’ll be back soon.” Violet kisses me on the cheek and disappears, leaving Graham and me alone for the first time in what feels like an eternity.
Because much-needed distance is necessary, I back away until my legs hit a stool at the center island. My eyes never drop from him, as his never leave me. He takes a few deep breaths. His stare brushes over my body, causing me to fidget in my seat.
“You look good.” He rests his forearms against the same cold marble I run my palms over. His eyes never leave my side of the island I use as a shield against him.
“So do you.” My body betrays me and attempts to smile at him, but I push the urge back.
He laughs and straightens his spine. Circling the island, he stands beside me, close enough for me to smell his cologne. It’s different than what I remember but enticing enough to make me want to take a deep breath to inhale him. “You can smile, you know?”
“Shut up, Graham.” I shake my head. “What are you doing here?”
“I play baseball here,” he answers matter of fact as if his answer will solve all the world’s problems.
“I get that,” I motion to his long sleeve UConn t-shirt, “but, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Georgia?”
Graham reaches his hand out in offering. “Will you come for a walk with me?”
I rub the charm on my bracelet. “Why should I?” I snap, looking up at him. The excitement, pooling around my heart from being near Graham, frustrates me.
“Because I’ll always find you, remember?” He gently places his fingers over mine and rubs the charm between his own.
I pull my wrist away from him. “Don’t do that.” I stand to leave, but his strong hold wraps around my forearm. He twists me until I face him. My eyes soften as I take in his features I’ve almost forgotten. The sincerity of his smile is the only reason I’m not bolting out of this kitchen.
“Take a walk with me, Ken.” His head tilts to the side, reminding me of a disobedient puppy.
I follow him through the living room and out the front door. There’s no use trying to pretend I’m not intrigued and curious.
Graham mutters under his breath as he walks down the driveway. I tug my hat over my ears and stop as he turns onto the public sidewalk. He makes it almost ten feet before he realizes I’m not following him. When he searches for me, I stand frozen with my hands on my hips.
“What are you doing here? I’m not walking one more step until you explain why I’ve thought you’ve been in Georgia all this time, but turns out you’ve been less than two hours away, hanging out in Connecticut with Mark. Explain yourself now, or else I’m packing up my shit and leaving.”
Graham strides back to me. Quick and precise. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls my body flush against his. The coolness of the air causes me to shiver, or maybe it’s our proximity. I’m not sure.
My mind tells me, push him away before it’s too late, but my heart melts into him. The two of them have always been in a constant battle when it comes to Graham Black. Most moments, I’m not sure which will win in the end.
With a quick reminder not to overstep, I put the distance between us neither of us wants but both know we need.
“Now’s your chance to explain yourself,” she whispers, stroking the compass on her bracelet.
The fact she wears the one thing I’ve given her lets me know she still believes in the things I’d said all those months ago.
“Junior year, when I was being a pain in your ass, and you stormed out of Government class, I asked you to give me time. Time to explain myself, and to let you get to know me. That’s what I need now. I need time to get this all out, but right now, I need you to walk with me. I can’t be late.” I nod for her follow me. Luck must be on my side because her steps fall in line with mine.
Our hands graze during the short walk. The current running through me screams to reach for her, but I resist the temptation.
“Where are we going, Graham?” She takes double steps to my one. “And will you please slow down?”
“I told you I was going to be late. Try to keep up.” I laugh. Bossing her around is as natural now as it was back in high school.
We walk nearly two blocks without speaking, and I welcome the silence. Her presence is enough for me to be at ease. I stop in front of the old brick building. Kennedy stares at me, an amused, but confused expression on her face.
“Really?” she questions. “This is what you’re going to be late for?” Her fingers flicker to the white lettering on the brick wall.
I nod with enthusiasm and she smiles back at me. “When I found out you were coming into town, I was go
ing to skip my visit, but Betty called a few hours ago, and seemed worried about one of the boys.” I take her hand in mine, dig out my key, and lead her into the building.
“Mr. Graham,” Ben, the strongest and brightest seven-year-old I’ve ever met, screeches when I walk through the doors. “Mrs. Betty said you were coming today, but I didn’t believe her.”
I ruffle his hair and bend down, reluctantly releasing my hold on Kennedy. “I figured we could have a rematch on the air hockey table.”
“I guess so.” Ben peers up at me, but he’s quick to divert his eyes to the floor. He’s become a champion at hiding his feeling. He narrows his eyes at Kennedy. “Who’s she?” His eyebrows scrunch together.
“That, Ben, is the girl I’m going to marry one day.” Her wide eyes gawk at me, and I cover my mouth with my sleeve to mute my chuckle.
“I don’t think she wants to marry you, Mr. Graham.” Ben giggles.
“She doesn’t know it yet, but she will.” I wink at her but speak to Ben.
“I thought you said girls have cooties.” Ben wrinkles his nose in disgust.
His innocence is the most refreshing part of our visits. “One day you won’t mind so much, buddy.”
“Whatever you say.” He flits his hand, dismissing me, and turns back to Kennedy. “If Mr. Graham wants to marry you, then you should say yes. He’s my best friend.”
As Ben runs out of the room, Kennedy’s eyes water as she examines the barefooted seven-year-old wearing Batman pajamas. What she doesn’t know is, Ben has been an orphan for almost two years. After his father was incarcerated for murdering his mother, he had nowhere to go but here.
“What is this place? From the outside, it looks like a gym,” she says.
“An orphanage for boys and girls who’ve lost parents to violence. It was founded almost fifteen years ago by a group of women who lost a friend to domestic violence. They want to give children who’ve lost everything, a safe place to go in a world where cruelty is all they’ve ever known.”
“And their fathers?”
“All that matters are the children here are safe.”
Right in front of my eyes, Kennedy’s heart melts in places where her guards have been up. “How long have you been coming here?” Her eyes dance around the room, taking in the bright primary colors splashed across every surface.