Several miles later, Tarryn spoke again. I’d never answered her first question. “Drake, what can I do?”
I glanced over at her, steering the car around a wide-arc curve. I took my hand off the wheel and reached for her. She laced her fingers with mine; I wasn’t sure she would. What was it about that? That she threaded our fingers together and held me firmly… that made me feel like maybe shit would be okay.
Like I said, Tarryn didn’t make me smart. But, god, she made me feel like more than the playboy with a trust fund and a family reputation that was about to shatter.
When we parked in front of her house, we didn’t get out immediately. Her parents, for once, weren’t hovering in the living room waiting to peek out from around the curtains. “No spies tonight,” I smiled again, unable to help myself.
“Oh, lord,” she breathed out. “I didn’t realize you’ve noticed them too.”
I laughed. “How could I not notice them? When we left, I was fairly sure your mom was leaving nose marks on the glass.”
She covered her face, sighing. “They really mean well.”
“Hey,” I placed my hand on her thigh, trying to be respectful, though all the touch made me think was: I bet she’s gorgeous under that ridiculous flower skirt. “I’d give anything for parents who cared enough to spy on me.”
“It gets tiresome,” she dropped her hands and her eyes were twinkling, catching light from the street lamps, “but they’re mine. My crazy, nosey, irrational, super-in-love parents.”
“You’re lucky,” I murmured.
Both of her hands covered mine, pressing my palm more firmly against her leg. “It’s going to be okay, Drake. Really.”
“You said that already,” I teased.
“Whatever happens… I’ll do whatever I can.”
“Tarryn, this is all on me. I’ve got to go home and tell my dad…” I let my words trail off.
She looked over at her house once more, and then she did that thing that drove me crazy—the lip biting and the brow furrowing. She looked unsure and thoughtful and unintentionally sexy. And then she was unbuckling and shifting her body in the seat to kneel and face me. She tilted downward, keeping her eyes locked with mine. When our lips touched, I let the rest of the world melt away. I pushed the manual seat back, wrapped my arms around her and lifted her, pulling her over into my lap. She made a little squeak at the new position, eyes going wide.
“Sorry,” I muttered, pulling my lips from hers. “I’m not trying to pressure you.”
Tarryn gave a tiny nod, eyes that gorgeous and wide puppy stare. Our mouths pressed together once more. I kneaded her waist gently, her upper body turned towards me with her legs stretching over the mid console and across the passenger bucket seat. Her ass was nestled in the crook between my legs and her arms were wrapped around my shoulders. Her fingers played with my hair. I started to grow hard, dick pulsing beneath her. “We need to stop,” I mumbled against her mouth.
“Do we?” she spoke softly, still moving her lips against mine.
“Tarryn,” I took a deep breath and pushed her gently away. “I don’t want it to be fast with you.”
Her eyes flicked down pointedly at the hardening against my pants. Her eyebrow quirked.
“Well,” I blushed… which wasn’t something I did. Not recently, not since Lane. Not since I became the fuck boi who filled the black void in my heart with meaningless encounters. “Obviously I do want to have sex with you, but I don’t right now.”
She frowned. “Is it me?” Now she blushed. “Not that I’m ready. I’ve never… But is there something wrong with me?” She stumbled over her words, worrying her lip, cheeks pink.
I reached out and played with the strands of light brown hair falling across her face. “There’s something right with you, Tarryn. Not wrong. Maybe my relationship with Lane was wrong. Maybe I was a kid who didn’t know any better. Hell, I’m still a kid with a whole world of fucked-up memories keeping me from being who I could be. With you though… I want to be better. I meant what I said to Tabitha. I’m not going to treat another girl badly. My hurt shouldn’t translate into someone else’s hurt.”
She leaned forward and hugged me, our bodies pressing together and my dick throbbing. It was going to take some time for my body to catch up to my brain.
“Come on.” I traced my hand down her back and she shivered against my touch, despite the jean jacket keeping me from touching skin. “Let’s get you inside before the Monroe spies go back on duty.”
“Okay.” She extricated herself from me, moving back to the passenger seat. As she moved, that silly daisy skirt rode up her body, revealing the slightest peek of pale pink panties. She tugged at it after sitting down, the blush in her face growing deeper. We got out of the car, her waiting for me as I walked around so that we could hold hands. We moved down the walkway, and I poked at her and nodded towards the window so she’d see that her parents had, indeed, come back on duty. “Lord,” she breathed out, a soft giggle at the end.
Her mom opened the door as we approached, her eyes roving up and down our clothes as if she was looking for telltale signs of two teens getting a bit too flirty. “How was the date?” She asked a bit too eagerly.
“Mom,” Tarryn groaned, pushing her mother into the house and taking her place in the doorway. She partially closed the door, blocking me from her parent’s view. She focused back on me, mouthing the word ‘sorry’.
“Thank you for going out with me,” I said. I wanted to touch her again, to kiss her again, but our time was up. And she wasn’t an after-hours girl, even if I was still in the business of late-night booty calls with girls I didn’t give a damn about.
“Can you let me know you’re okay? After you talk to your father, I mean.” Suddenly her face was etched with concern. I wanted that gone, quickly. I didn’t want her to look anything but joyful from now on, at least not when it came to me. I wouldn’t cause Tarryn pain, not anymore. Not if I could fucking help it.
“I’ll let you know.” I stepped close enough to kiss her. We were the same height with her stood in the doorway and me slightly lower on the first step of the porch. Our lips and tongues danced and we probably would have kissed all night if the sound of a parental figure clearing their throat behind Tarryn hadn’t pulled us out of the moment. “That’s my cue.” I pecked her on the cheek, needing to feel her skin against my mouth one more time before leaving.
“Bye, Drake,” she said, right leg lifting and her foot rubbing gently against the back of the other leg. I’d seen her do it before. It seemed like a nervous habit.
“Bye, Tarryn.”
I hated walking away from her, hated hearing the door of her house clicked closed behind me. Leaving her meant I was moving towards home, towards my dad and the inevitable fall out.
Instead of driving towards home, I found myself leaving River Valley for the second time today. I drove and I drove. That’s what I did, I guess, when the storm inside was moving too fast to fight the fury. But my mind never understood where my body was taking me. My eyes never recognized the scenery passing by the car. I was lost in my brain, in the words I was going to have to tell my father. Lost in the fallout that was my future.
Copper hair floated through my brain.
The sounds of crickets singing to the night.
How pale her skin was, tiny freckles dotted across the milky way of her body.
Wrong or right. Legal or illegal. I didn’t regret being with her.
Lane taught me how to love. And now Tarryn was here to help me remember that feeling.
That’s when I saw it; that’s when I knew where I was. Her driveway, snaking between two meadows that were going tan in the fall heat and too little rain, was the pathway to the past. Her house, somewhat secluded and set back from the road, was the sanctuary of my heart. There were no houses close enough to see us entering and exiting. I’d come here many times before, shortly after she’d left me. I’d walked the property and looked through the windows and hop
ed she’d come back.
Eventually, I gave up.
Eventually, I knew that our love wasn’t enough. Lane had been right. It had to end. It couldn’t go on forever. And then I’d hardened. All of me. Like the blood couldn’t run through my veins anymore. I started turning to stone. I started to petrify.
There exist mythos about petrification. Supernatural creatures and artifacts that can turn a man’s body to rock. Lane had been my catalyst.
I was one of those unsung characters of literature.
Young, naïve. Stood on the precipice of manhood. Trying to prove myself.
And she had strolled into my life holding textbooks and looking the picture of a studious educator.
Those layers had shed, over weeks, until I saw the skin beneath. The moment I touched that skin, her body…change had set in. I would always be the ‘after’ image of the person before her. We’d come together. We’d made life. That should have written us a future, no matter what any law or outside person thought.
And now I knew, through the shakily-written letters, that there was no baby. That connection that might have brought us back together did not exist after all.
I directed the convertible into the driveway and pulled to a stop. The engine idled as I stared at the two-story house. The Holden Woods real estate sign was still staked into the ground near the road, though this time there was a bright red ‘sold’ magnet added to the stylized logo. Someone else was going to move in here. The space between walls would be filled with someone else’s memories.
I was about to leave, to pop the gear into reverse and hit the gas.
But then I froze.
I couldn’t move.
The blood running through my veins, the blood that had started thawing since Tarryn came into the picture, began to ice again.
A light had come on in Lane’s house. First floor. Near the kitchen.
A pale yellow promise, sending a hazy glow through the late evening fog that seemed suspended like an ethereal curtain around the building that once sat dark and lifeless.
A light.
16.
T A R R Y N
For once, I didn’t dodge my mom’s questions about the date. I told her everything… up until Tabitha’s entrance into the gloriously-retro, happy experience.
“He’s such a gentleman. I really like him.” Mom cuddled around her hot chocolate. She picked it up, taking a long deep drink that left her with a brown mustache. She urged me to do the same, using her index to nudge my purple mug a bit closer to where I sat at the kitchen counter.
“Drake is really something.” I agreed, obliging and taking a tentative sip. It wasn’t the pre-fab paper pouch type of cocoa. She’d made it from scratch, and you never knew if my mom would remember key ingredients. Like sugar. I cringed when the taste of the dark brown liquid hit my mouth. Oh, she’d put in sugar. Lots of it.
Dad popped into the room then. “Where’s my cup of famous cocoa. I’m hurt.”
Mom smiled, setting about pulling down another cup and filling it with the steaming brew. She snagged the tiny marshmallows from the cabinet and dropped in an extra serving of white puffiness for dad, topping it off with a peppermint stick from a glass mason jar on top of the fridge. He loved soft mints. I wasn’t huge on mint anything. Every time we ran out, mom would set about finding something similar for my dad.
Once again, I was struck with how lucky I was, and how unlucky some people were. The Castletons had money, but they didn’t have love the way we did. I’d take the smaller house, higher bills, and mom that stole my clothes any day versus the lack of connection Drake went home to every day.
“I love you guys,” I said abruptly, causing my parents to turn and look at me curiously. “You’re weird and you drive me nuts, but I love you.”
“Well, we love you too, baby.” Mom came over and cupped my face. Then her forehead crinkled. “You’re looking a little pale though. Did you eat when you were with Drake?”
I frowned. “See, driving me nuts.”
“Only because we love you,” Dad quipped happily, taking his hot chocolate and pinching Mom on the butt—making her squeal—before leaving the room too quickly for her to lovingly retaliate.
“Okay, back to my question.” Mom was rubbing her tush, smiling at the direction Dad went. “Have you eaten?”
I sighed. “No. We had some popcorn and candy, but I didn’t eat much.” I didn’t mention why—because we were too busy talking about sordid teacher affairs and dealing with a broken-hearted girl out for revenge.
“Since you love me, then you’ll sit right there while I make you a sandwich.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, but only half-heartedly since my stomach was now rumbling at the prospect of proper food. I mean, I couldn’t exactly hate my mom for not wanting me to get woozy and sick. Even if it made me crazy, it was part of the reason I loved her. She cared about me so much.
After she gave me the ham and cheese, she ambled out of the room. Seconds later, I heard her giggling with Dad. I did not want to see what they were up to. Holy scarred for life. I smiled though—biting into the sandwich and tasting a bit too much mustard for my liking—and I ate every bite. How many sandwiches had Drake’s mom made for him over the years? Not many, I guessed.
I finished eating and rinsed off my plate. Mom and Dad were in the living room, so I made sure to block my view of them as I passed by—there was far too much whispering going on for them to be doing anything I’d possibly want to see. So my hand was up against the side of my face, a big fat horse blinder, as I padded up the stairs. I still wore Mom’s denim jacket, but I didn’t pop over to her room to return it. She kept my stuff as long as she wanted. And I really loved the jacket. It was part of the outfit I’d worn on my first real date, not counting the almost-ending with Tabitha.
I sat on my bed, frowning now, and I pulled off the coat, folding it against my lap.
Could I convince her to delete the recording? I hadn’t seen her after she’d left us… maybe she hadn’t shown it to anyone yet. That was probably wishful thinking.
It wasn’t my fault, I told myself for the millionth time. I had no way of knowing she was spying on us, taping our conversation. It wasn’t something I planned. I didn’t even know the girl. I’d seen her a few times with Drake. I remembered her preening like a love-sick cat.
Tabitha was a product of who Drake was… who he didn’t want to be anymore, I added mentally to make myself feel better.
I felt sad for her. From her words, I could only imagine what Drake had put her through. The promises to be better. The sex. Then the promises broken.
Maybe she had a point…
What was different about me? What did I have that softened Drake?
She was small and delicate. A walking Tinkerbell.
I stood, the jacket falling with a dull thunk to the floor—my cell phone buried away in the inner pocket. It was fine. It hadn’t broken last time it fell. Making my way across my room, I found myself staring in the mirror. I tried to see what Drake saw when he looked at me. I’d never thought I was beautiful. On the pretty side, maybe. In a nerdy bookish way. I think It’s why I tended towards activities like cross-country. Things that were more solitary. When I was running, I was alone with myself. No one to be attractive for, no one to impress. I ran as fast as I could and I got lost in the movement.
My hair was wild about my face, the skirt and top clinging to decent curves. I’d started slimming down a little again now that I was running more regularly, though I was only second string for cross-country and wasn’t on the roster for any events.
Drake was right about my eyes—wide and puppy-ish, like a doe caught in the headlights. I was a pretty sort of plain, that was the way to put it, that was a good description.
But Drake made me feel… sexy, gorgeous, wanted.
My phone pinged and I rushed over to the floor, dropping onto my knees to fish the cell out of my pocket. I hoped it was Drake. He’d dropped me off over an hour ago.
There’d been time to talk with his dad.
Drake: you there?
My fingers typed furiously. Yes. I’m here.
Drake: I didn’t go home.
Why not? I frowned, worried if he delayed telling his family, that the damage Tabitha did would worsen with more time left unchecked. The Castletons were rich. Surely they could stop one teenage girl from spreading nasty gossip.
Drake: I don’t know.
…
…
Drake: I’m a fucking coward, that’s why.
You’re not a coward, Drake.
Drake: I’m not? Then why did I drive to Lane’s house? Why am I here, Tarryn?
I fell to my ass, knees giving out.
You went there? God, why? Why would you go there? Are you an idiot?
Drake: I don’t know. It’s like my goddamn body took over and my brain is a fucking mute.
Come to my house. We can talk. My parents love you, they won’t care if you come over so late.
Drake: There’s something I need to do.
At Lane’s house? That’s not healthy. You need to leave.
Drake: I can’t.
She’s gone, Drake. Please leave. You don’t have to come to my house. Just go somewhere else. Go anywhere else.
Drake: I can’t.
Stop saying you can’t.
…
…
Drake: I have to face this, Tarryn. If I’m ever going to be free. I want to be free.
Where are you? I’ll come there. Let me help you. Whatever it is you’re doing.
Drake: I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
Talk to me now.
He didn’t answer my last message.
And I waited for hours, falling asleep with the phone against the pillow near my head.
###
We were in a bedroom I didn’t recognize. It was impeccably-styled. Crisp white linens, silvery area rug, gallery-style photos lining the walls.
I turned in a circle, catching sight of a coppery-shade of something reflected in a mirror nearby. It was gone before I could understand what it was. I kept turning, the light from the two bedside lamps becoming this cyclical glowing wave. A merry-go-round and I was the only rider.
Brat: A High School Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 2) Page 12
