“I know,” she says, without me having to continue.
“But I…” I want to tell her I’m sorry for being a disappointment-that I know now she isn’t directly responsible for every bad thing that has ever happened. That I believe that most of the time, she did try her best. I want to tell her about my dad’s affair, and that she’s too good for him. That I love her, even though I’ve never shown it right, but like an idiot, I can’t find the words.
She rubs my arm softly before letting go of me.
“Quinn, don’t make your life harder than it needs to be,” she says, simply. She kisses the top of my head and then leaves me standing in the kitchen alone. This is the closest I have been to my mom in years.
“Was wondering where you were,” Carter says. He hands me a mug, and I curl up in the chair across from him.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask. It is barely teetering above freezing outside and my lounge pants and hoodie are doing a less than adequate job of protecting me from the frigid breeze when it kicks up.
“Quit being such a baby, it’s not that cold.”
I put the mug to my lips and take a small sip. “Maybe not, but this used-to-be-hot chocolate is.” I lick my lips and touch my tongue to the roof of my mouth. “What else is in here? Rum?”
Carter nods. “Mom gone to bed?”
“Yeah, I just talked to her…sorta…” My teeth chatter together. “Seriously, what are we doing out here?”
“Just relax, enjoy it. Weather like this is good for clearing your head.”
“Whatever you say, you damn hippie,” I say with a laugh.
I pull my arms and legs inside my sweater and try to relax. The crisp air bites at my nose and I crinkle it up from the burn. I rock back and forth gently in the chair just to keep moving.
Carter and I sit in near silence. The lukewarm beverage does little to combat the cold or calm the chattering of my teeth-even with the shot of dark rum. But maybe Carter was actually on to something. Sitting out here under the ultra-bright stars, shivering with each gust of wind, the deck no longer feels like the depressing, lonely place it had become since Ben and I had broken up. The chills I have only make everything seem so much more real. And maybe that is exactly what I have been running from. Ben’s forgiveness and acceptance of me and my faults scared the shit out of me. It meant he really did love me, and that I was going to lose control over my closely guarded feelings. But at the same time, it’s what I wanted the most, an escape from the phoniness of my home life. I was desperate for someone to really get me-not only that, but to still love me, even at my worst. Ben did that, and so I ran from him.
********************
“Got something for you.” Carter’s voice snaps me out of my daze.
He tosses a manila envelope onto my bed.
“What’s this?” I ask, pulling my legs under me.
“Open it, spaz.” He plops down onto the end of my bed.
My hands sweat as I grab the envelope and peek inside.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I ask. I pull out a brochure for Le Cordon Bleu School of Culinary Arts.
“Um, I’m going to go with– apply.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Yeah right.”
“Why not, Quinnlette? You’re already an awesome cook, why not just take the next step?”
“I don’t know,” I say, tugging on the chain around my neck. “It’s really just a hobby.”
“Do you love doing it? I mean, I’m going to school to be an accountant. Not because I’m passionate about doing people’s taxes, but because I’m good at it-”
“Vomit,” I groan.
Carter laughs. “The point being, if I was half as good at something I loved the way you are with cooking, I’d chase after it– full speed.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.
“And don’t give me anymore crap about having to stay here for Mason. I left, and you deserve to go, too. Go on and live your life, Quinn. Full speed-no looking back,” he says.
All I can do is give him a hesitant nod. He stands up and ruffles my hair as if I’m eight again.
“And for the love of God, hurry up and get dressed. I’m so freakin’ starving and I sure as hell don’t want everyone to have to sit around all night waiting on you.”
“Oh, shut up!” I fling a pillow in his direction, which of course, he easily dodges.
My mom stops in the doorway and reflexively, my muscles tense up, and my posture becomes stiff.
“You about ready, Quinn?” she asks. We’re going to a Christmas Eve party at Mr. Taylor’s house.
“Yeah, give me twenty,” I say.
She nods and gives me half a smile before looking Carter up and down, taking in his Dickies, plaid shirt, and raggedy Converse.
“You are not wearing that, Carter,” she says.
“Pick your battles, Ma,” he says, while patting her on the shoulder.
The door closes behind them and I start toward my closet. I have just started flipping through the section I have set aside for dresses, when my door opens again and Carter peaks his head in.
“Seriously, your left arm will be the first thing I eat,” he says.
I haven’t laughed so hard in a long, long time.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Quinn
“Hey stranger,” Shayna says. I jump back when I hear her voice; I had snuck in here to be alone. “Holy shit, it’s a Christmas miracle! Both of us are hiding out at another party.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask. She’s leaning back in one of the two dark, leather recliners. I take a seat in the other one.
“Ugh, my parents dragged my ass here. My dad plays golf with all of these assholes. Your dad worked with Mr. Taylor, right?”
I nod. “This party is lame.”
“Tell me about it, why do you think I’m hidden in here?”
The room is lit only by a small desk lamp, and the dark, wood paneled walls and furnishings make it feel like a cave. I sort of love it in here. I curl up into the buttery leather of the chair.
“Is that a real bearskin rug?” she asks.
“I do believe so, someone better call PETA.”
“Cute dress,” Shayna says.
“You too.” My moss green, one-shouldered crepe dress seemed like the perfect choice for tonight. But next to Shayna in her sophisticated v-neck bodice and crinkled silver lame skirt, I feel like the self-conscious twelve-year-old that I was when I first met her.
I start to wonder if maybe that is why I have always had it out for her. Was it because I felt completely inadequate to begin with, and Shayna’s seemingly perfect existence only exaggerated those feelings, making it that much worse?
“What time is it?” I yawn.
“I thought you’d never ask!” Shayna laughs and reaches into the pocket on the side of her recliner.
“It’s Henn o’clock, on the dot, baby!” she says. She shakes a bottle of Hennessy Black back and forth.
“Where did you get that?”
“Over there.” She motions to the small bar across the room. “You want?” she offers.
“Nah, I’m good,” I say. The only substance or pill I had consumed since being home from the hospital was the tiny bit of rum in my cold-chocolate, and a few Advil. Not that I’m going all straight-edge, please, but I’m not in a hurry to end up back in the ER.
“Suit yourself.” She puts the dark bottle up to her glossy, cherry-red mouth and drinks directly from it. I wait for her to wince, but she doesn’t.
“So, are you like, okay? I heard some stuff about…” Shayna asks, before taking another swig from the bottle.
I start to pick at my Smitten with Mittens polished nails.
“I’m fine,” I say. She raises her eyebrows, looking for more than I had offered. “I didn’t try to kill myself,” I qualify.
“Well that’s good, because I’d tell you that you suck at that too.”
A laugh escapes my lip
s before I can stop it.
“Wait, what do you mean I suck at it too?” I ask, reaching for the bottle. A few sips won’t hurt anything, besides, I’m at a party with my parents, I’m not about to get sloppy. I tip the bottle back and am surprised by the smoothness of the cognac. It’s not like the crap that my mom keeps in the invisibility cloaks at all.
“Lets see, for starters, you fail at picking friends,” she says.
“Hey, Syd is the bee’s knees,” I laugh.
Shayna raises her brows. “I can’t believe that you just said that. And anyway, I wasn’t talking about Sydney.”
“Tess? You’re friends with her too! Hell, you go to church with her!”
Shayna wags her finger at me and shakes her head. “No, I just know how to play my part. Just like you. Remember, we aren’t so different, Quinn.”
“Whatever. What else am I bad at, oh-wise-one?” I hand the bottle back to her. I can already feel the warm buzz creeping over me.
“You’re terrible at math. I mean, like, seriously retarded,” she says.
I cock my head to the side questioningly.
She throws her hands up and shakes her head. “I’m an aid up in the office sixth period. Sometimes they let me input the grades.”
“That seems really wrong that they let you do that,” I say. “But, wow, it’s really starting to feel like Christmas now, after this holly-jolly convo.” I think she’s done battering my self-esteem, but unfortunately, she isn’t.
“Also, you totally fail at going after what you want.”
“Huh?” I ask. Color me puzzled.
“Like with this dude, Ben-who by the way, is total sex-on-a-stick-”
I feel the heat fill my cheeks. “What about Ben?”
“I really don’t know what is wrong with you. He is like, smokin’, smart-boy, hottie of mass destruction. And those cardigan’s he wears all the time-yum,” she says.
“Shayna, I get it, he’s amazing.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. What I was getting to was that I always thought that you were so damn tough. I mean, I can’t think of anyone else who has dared to hook up with one of my boyfriends. But after hanging out the other night, I get that all of that toughness, is a total act.”
Two nails are now polish-less. Sigh.
“It is so obvs that you’re miserable without this guy, so why don’t you just go get him back?”
“It’s not that simple,” I say. “I really screwed up.” I reach for the black bottle that Shayna is cradling, but she jerks it away.
“Uh-uh, you’re done.”
“Why?”
“Oh, please. Cry me a river, Quinn. We all screw up. You don’t have to be such a damn martyr for the miserable. You can let people in. You can at least try to be happy.”
“Yeah, you’re one to talk, Shayna.” I make another swipe for the bottle, catching her off guard, and gulp it down before she can grab the bottle back.
“Hey, I found someone that I actually cared about. I let down my guard. It just turned out that he liked someone else more than me.”
I flinch. “Heath?”
She raises her eyebrows and nods.
“I didn’t know,” I say.
She grabs the bottle back and takes a long pull from it.
“It’s fine, whatever.” I can’t tell if she really means it or not.
“Ben wants you, and you want him so much that it is seriously nearing pathetic. So go and make it right. It’s Christmas for Christ’s sake.”
I snort with laughter. Putting the Christ back in Christmas.
“Seriously, go.” She shoo’s me away.
“I don’t even have my car,” I say. “I came with my parents and my brothers.”
“Brothers, as in plural? Is Carter here, too?” Shayna asks, perking up.
I nod. “Well, I’d take you in my car, but I guess I shouldn’t be driving right now. Find Carter, he can drive my car.”
“And go where?”
“This isn’t algebra. I know even you can wrap your mind around this one, Quinn.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Ben
Where the hell are my car keys? I have been tearing apart the house for the last hour and still haven’t found them. If I don’t get my hands on them soon, I’m going to miss my flight. And if I miss Christmas with my mom, she’s going to lose her shit.
My family is in Kentucky for the holidays. I’m supposed to be meeting them there-if I ever find my damn keys.
For a second, I think I hear a knock at the door, but it’s probably just the unrelenting rain. If it actually was a knock, I ignore it anyway. I haven’t even left the house today, how could I have so completely lost my keys? I should have been out of here an hour ago.
Mom and Dad left earlier in the week. The only reason they agreed to let me take a flight out tonight rather than with them was because I swore I’d be working on college applications while they were gone. I actually did, finally narrowing down my choice of schools, and I even got everything submitted. Still, the real reason I wanted to stay behind, is that the idea of spending all that time with Caroline felt awkward to me. I knew she’d be a part of everything that my family would be doing. Don’t get me wrong, I do still care about her-but things were pretty uncomfortable when I last saw her earlier in the year.
Shit, I think it was a knock. I abandon my search.
When I throw open the door without looking through the peep-hole, I expect to find a last minute Fed Ex delivery or something.
My stomach drops, I’m not prepared for Quinn.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Quinn
I can’t read his expression, he’s completely pokerfaced. Does that mean he’s pissed? Is he worried about what his parents are going to think of my showing up this late on Christmas Eve of all nights? I’ll bet his mom hasn’t missed seeing my face at all. Will she make me leave? He opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it again.
Shit, why did I let Shayna of all people talk me into this? She isn’t the one standing on the porch in the pouring rain. She’s all cozy in her warm Honda Fit. Crammed nice and close to my brother who she flirted with incessantly the entire way over here. Carter didn’t seem to mind at all. I suddenly regret telling them to go back to the party without waiting here for me.
He is just staring at me. Blankly.
He won’t even invite me in.
Any mild buzz that I may have had going at the party dissipates.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Ben
I open my mouth to say something to her, but my shock won’t let me form the words. I hadn’t thought about her as much as I used to. Ever since Sydney called and told me that she was home from the hospital, I have tried to force myself to move on. I’d been able to forget about her long enough, to forget why I need to-because she didn’t want me in her life.
But now, she’s standing here, on my porch in a killer dress, holding her black heels in her hand in the pouring rain, on Christmas Eve. All the forgetting stuff just went to shit.
She bites her lip and her eyes dart around. Her soaked, espresso hair is stuck to the sides of her face, and her eye makeup looks like black ink dripping off of her cheeks. Jesus, what is the matter with me?
“I’m sorry, come in,” I finally say. I fling the door wide open and back up out of the way.
“Thanks,” she says. Her voice is apprehensive. She folds her arms across her chest, shivering in the thin material of her dress.
“Can I get you something? You look like you’re freezing.” I still don’t know what she’s doing here, or how long she plans to stay.
“No, no, I’m okay.” Several minutes pass; we stand two feet away from each other in total silence.
I glance at my watch.
She clears her throat. “You have somewhere to be, don’t you?” she asks, motioning to my watch. I’d hoped she didn’t see me checking the time.
“Sort of,” I say.
Quinn nods softly. “Okay, well, we
’ll talk later.” She takes a step toward the door, her shoulders are slumped. She doesn’t look like the Quinn that I fell in love with at all. She looks broken, defeated.
“Quinn, where are you going to go?” Operation Kill-Ben-on-Baby Jesus’-Birthday is going to be underway soon anyway, just as soon as my mom realizes that I missed my flight.
“I just–” she starts.
My cell phone ringing interrupts her. It’s still set to the same ring tone she put on it seven months ago. I see her lips curl into a tiny smile. I glance at the Caller ID. Shit, it’s my mom.
“Give me just a second,” I say. She nods. I walk to the sliding glass door and stare outside with my back to Quinn. As close as we used to be, it now feels odd to be in the same room as her. Every other time she has been in my house, I could barely keep my hands off of her, and now we’re here– alone, apart from the all consuming awkwardness.
“Hello?” I answer. I expect my mom’s disgruntled, Southern-twang. But instead, I get Linney’s sweet drawl.
“Benny? Your mom wanted me to check to make sure you got to the airport all right. I told her that you were a big boy, and she didn’t need to worry, but you know your mom–”
I pinch the space in between my eyes. “I didn’t make it on the plane, Linney. I’m not going to be able to get there tonight.”
There is a gasp, followed by silence before Linney promises to try to smooth things over with my mom for me.
When I hang up with Caroline and turn to face Quinn, her mouth forms a tight line.
“Where are your parents?” she asks.
I hesitate, knowing it is going to sound like something that it’s not. “They’re in Kentucky.”
“And you’re supposed to be there, too?”
I nod.
She unzips her purse and pulls out her phone. “Well, don’t let me keep you.” She’s already at the door with her guard way up as usual. “I’m sorry for just dropping by like this. I’ll just wait outside for my brother to get here.”
Grounding Quinn Page 17
