by Annie Brewer
She peers at me through one eye since the other one is still pressed against the seat. “I know I should…but I doubt it’ll do much good.”
I pivot my body so I’m facing her and even though it’s dark aside from all the stars that are noticeable, the moon casts a glow on her face at just the right angle. “My mom wanted me to go to therapy for my problems.” I casually throw out there to help ease her nerves. “I don’t and won’t…but it’s different when you talk to someone you trust.”
She rests her cheek against her hand on the seat and stares at me. “I ran into someone I know and wasn’t expecting to see.” Her lips tremble and she bites it to keep from crying. And then she shakes her head, hiding her face from my view. All I hear in the truck is her harsh breathing and my loud thoughts spinning in my head. “I can’t. Talking will only make everything worse.”
Right now, I just want to make everything go away: the pain, the torment, the darkness that has taken over her mind and left a sad and scared girl. What happened, Addie? I want to ask her. Did someone hurt you? Something?
I stick the key in the ignition just enough so my stereo would work without the engine being on, keeping my headlights on. I find a CD to put in the player and open the door. “Come on.” I nod for her to follow me. “Let’s take your mind off what’s bothering you.” Maybe if she relaxes and feels more comfortable, she’ll open up.
She doesn’t move right away. Instead, she sits up and changes out my Maroon 5 CD for Bon Jovi. My uncle bought it for me years ago, claiming they were once pretty awesome. I agreed. And it makes me smile that she chooses it to listen to. Most of their songs are depressing, except It’s My Life, which is the song that comes through the speakers.
I kick at the rock beneath my feet and toss her a grin. “Good choice.”
She climbs out of the truck on my side and takes a gander. “It’s so bright out here.” Her head is tilted toward the sky, gazing at the stars. “I love it when you can see the stars so clearly.”
Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I shuffle to her side and nod as I take in the night sky. I spent many a nights here, alone to ponder shit. Where we live, we can see the stars just as good, but here I don’t have to worry about being bothered by drunken assholes or scared mothers. Just me.
“When you’re ready to talk,” I hear myself say out of the blue, still looking up at the sky, “I’m here.”
Her head finds my shoulder, moving in a nodding gesture as she links her arm through mine. “I know.” She says softly.
We move to sit on the tailgate and I wish I’d brought some food to munch on. I didn’t think it through, I guess. Addie doesn’t seem bothered by it. She’s just quiet. I could use something to keep my hands occupied and my mouth full. Otherwise, I’m just sitting here like a bump on a log.
Without warning, I grab her hand from her lap and place it on mine, linking our fingers together. It feels natural to be holding her hand like this, which probably sounds utterly ridiculous, but the warmth that spreads from her palm to mine up to my fingertips is calming. I glance down and survey the sizes, how mine practically swallows her one hand whole.
When our eyes meet, I hold my breath, afraid she’ll shy away from me. What I really want to do is finish that kiss from earlier. Quickly dismissing that thought, I offer a sincere smile. “I’m really glad you came here, Addie.”
“I told my dad.”
I blink, caught off guard at the direction the conversation quickly took. That was unexpected—both the blunt statement and the fact that she told him she’s here. Is that why she’s upset? Did he cause her tears? I’m so consumed with my own thoughts, I don’t realize my hand is clenching hers tight until I hear an “Ow!” and I automatically release it. “Sorry,” I mumble.
She is shaking her hand out to get feeling back in it and offers me a small smile, that doesn’t reach her eyes. Barely even her lips. It’s more of a one-sided smile. “He’s not mad.” She folds her hands in her lap and swings her legs back and forth. “I mean, he wasn’t happy at first…but he knows I’m somewhere safe—”
I can’t help but notice her voice trailing off with that sentence and she looks away. I nudge her shoulder for attention. “Addie, what happened?” I scoot my leg closer to hers that they’re almost touching. “Why were you lying in the grass like that?”
Her hair falls over her face, shielding her from me like a curtain, so I lift my hand and gently tuck it behind her ear. Instead of keeping my hands to myself, I touch her, stroking her cheek ever so lightly. “Ky.” My name is a whisper on her lips and I close my eyes with a sigh. “Dance with me.” She pats my arm and jumps down.
I don’t dance. However, as Always methodically drifts through the speakers, I feel my resolve slipping. I’ll dance with her in a field, in the middle of nowhere if it means I get to hold her in my arms. And that’s what I do. My arms wrap around her waist while her arms come up to my neck. We stare at each other for a few minutes before either of us moves. I think we’re both unsure of ourselves. I’m not used to being pressed up against a girl’s body unless it ends with sex.
I’m not even thinking along those lines with Addie. Not that I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to have her beneath me in my bed, tangled in my sheets and moaning my name in pleasure. “Ah!”
Addie flinches back when the noise escapes my mouth and I try to cover it with a cough. She cocks her head, pressing a hand to my chest. “Are you okay?”
I swallow, in need of a cold beverage now…or perhaps a shower. I just nod, tugging her body closer and sing the words to the song in my head letting my eyes drift shut to get lost in the music. And we’re finally swaying about halfway through. It turns out I’m not half bad at slow dancing. It’s just moving your feet in a circle of sorts, which is easy.
She presses her cheek to my chest and breathes out a sigh. “I love this song.”
I love you.
I mentally slap the words right out of my head. How can I think those words when I don’t really comprehend the meaning? Love hasn’t been in my family enough for me to distinguish what’s real and what’s wished for. I just say “Me too. Bon Jovi knows how to tell a sob story.”
I hear her chuckle vibrate against my body and I’m smiling. I don’t hear her laugh enough and it makes me sad. We’re so young and should be smiling and enjoying life more, not crying over shit we can’t control. She can’t control her parents’ divorce any more than I can control my dad’s raging alcoholic foolishness. Speaking of…
“What did my dad say to you?”
She hesitates. “It’s not important.”
Lifting her face from my chest, I look into her eyes. “It is important, Addie. What he does to me…that’s not important. But when someone messes with you”—I drop my head with a shake—“that’s something I can’t deal with.”
Taking a step back from me, she crosses her arms with a frown and our moment is over. The tension in the air is thick between us, dangling our secrets. Threatening to shatter us both. She sniffs and averts her gaze. “Why does it matter what he said?” The voice speaking is unlike Addie’s normal soft and sweet tone and I desperately want to take the last twenty seconds back if to have her in my arms again. “He was drunk and said some things to me and acted like a fool. Isn’t that how they all act? One, two, six drinks and guys have the right to say whatever comes to mind?” She covers her mouth. “Do whatever they please?”
I’m not sure where this is all coming from, but I have a feeling she’s not making this up for the hell of it. I grab her by the arms, giving a small jerk, not enough to hurt her, though. “Talk to me, Addie. I need to know what happened. Why were you lying in the grass?”
She shoves me back and I almost lose my balance but right myself. I won’t be deterred, though. I need her to let me in. It’s killing me to see this side of her and I can’t help. I can’t do anything. Mostly because I don’t know what she’s suffering from or what she’s gone through. It’s apparent there’s
more to her pain than just the divorce.
I reach for her again and she recoils. “Stop, please.”
I hug her to my chest and stroke her back like I did before. “I’m here. Don’t shut me out.” I whisper against her hair.
Her bitter laugh hits my ears unpleasantly and I notice the irony of my words too late. She’s shaking, trying to break free from my hold. She finally does, but doesn’t get too far. I can still touch her. “You”—she points her finger at me with a clipped tone—“shut me”—she gestures to herself—“out. For two years, Ky. Don’t start acting like you’re innocent all of a sudden.” A sob is trying to break free, but she is desperate to hold it back. “I needed you and you weren’t there.” All of a sudden her hands are beating against my chest and tears are drenching her face as she’s screaming these words over and over. I don’t stop the beating or the tears. I let her take it out on me, because she’s right…I wasn’t there. I was a fucking coward and let my best friend down. “You weren’t there.” She screams again, louder than the last time. “And I wanted to hate you.”
Trust me, I hated myself enough for the both of us.
“Why was I not good enough? Why did you ignore my calls and texts, Kyler? Tell me, why?” She’s finally calmed her beating down to just pats, as if she’s too tired to continue. She's worn out and defeated. Her forehead presses into my chest and she whispers apologies.
“Hey—” I shake my head when I get her to look at me. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was my fault.” I cup her cheeks, skimming my thumbs over her tears to wipe away. “I… I was a bad friend, Addie. No excuse. And I’m so sorry.” Now I’m sniffling as if I’d been crying and I wipe my nose. I’m on the verge of tears. I will myself to stay strong, for Addie though.
Her hands rest on top of mine, lacing our fingers together like I did before. She’s initiating it this time and I wonder the intentions behind the gesture. “I saw Rich…”
Blood drains from my face as her words sink in. I recall her saying she ran into someone she knew but didn’t expect to see. I ran into him too, which isn’t uncommon. I don’t like where this conversation is heading. I remove my hands from her face, afraid I’d crush it from the rage slowly building inside of me. I need a punching back, preferably with his face on it. “Did he hurt you?”
She’s quick to shake her head, so I study her to see if she’s only saying that to keep me calm. I swear to God. “He didn’t hurt me…” she says with a hand to my arm in reassurance. She gulps. “He just spooked me.”
“What did he do?”
Closing her eyes, she holds a hand to her mouth to stave off vomit or another sob. “I can’t…Ky, I can’t.”
I grab her hand and hold it to my heart. “I’m here. I wasn’t then, but I am now. And I want to help you, Addie. Please trust me.” I kiss her fingers, damning the consequences. “Let me in. Tell me what happened. I will kill whoever hurt you.”
“I need to sit down.”
I steer her toward the truck and help her to sit on the tailgate. I’m too antsy to sit, so I stand in front of her with my arms crossing and uncrossing. I feel like I’ve had an energy drink or speed, I’m so amped up. I’m just afraid of what her confession will bring…will do to my psyche.
She sits with her back pressed to the side, hugging her knees to her chest. Her eyes are far away, in the past…somewhere dark and haunting. But she surprises me when she asks, “Why did you kiss me?”
I blink rapidly and look at her. “Does it matter now?”
She returns my gaze. “I just needed to know why you kissed me. It’s not a hard question. Now with all the secrecy going on between us and in my life, I deserve to know why you kissed me.”
I lick my dry lips and drag the bottom one between my teeth, searching for the words to explain my actions. I can’t take it back and I don’t want to, but will it make a difference if I tell her the truth? Even if it doesn’t, she’s right, she deserves to know. “Okay, so… I did it because I wanted to.” I sit on the edge, keeping a safe distance from her. “And don’t go slapping me for being a guy, but I wanted to kiss you to see if these feelings I have for you were strong enough for more or just a one-time thing.” That part’s not true. I’m not sure why that came out.
Her eyes go wide with surprise. “You have feelings for me?”
I nod. “I have since we were fifteen.” I diminish the distance, leaving a sliver of space, and reach for her hand. “I was scared of these newly unfriendly feelings for my best friend and I ran,” I confess, feeling a little lighter for telling her. Maybe talking about it does help. What to do next is the hard part.
She nibbles on her nail, staring at the ground. “I don’t know what to say.”
I didn’t expect her to and it’s not why I told her. “Don’t worry about it. I realize I’d rather have you in my life as a friend, than not have you at all.” I touch under her chin. “Just know that’s why I didn’t contact you or visit you or return any of your calls and texts. I. Was. A. Coward.”
“I was raped.”
I struck frozen. Mute. Deaf.
The way she says it so casually, even though the tears slipping from her eyes prove the situation is anything but casual and I’m still frozen to the spot. Uncomprehending. Confused. Terrified.
“Kyler.”
I jump up at the sound of my name and shake my head. “No.” Is all I can muster at the moment. It doesn’t make sense. When? Where? Who? So many questions and I don’t know what to ask first. Instead of talking, I move away from her in the grass where there’s no light and puke. When I think of someone forcing sex on her against her will, I puke. When I think of the pleas and constant “nos” she probably cried out, I puke again. I puke until I have nothing left in me.
And then I light a cigarette.
Chapter Nine
Too much time has passed and I still have no words. My legs couldn’t hold me up so I sat on the ground, trying to sort through my head. I finally get the courage to ask, “When did this happen?”
“Two years ago.”
Fuck. I want to punch my own face in for leaving her to deal with this alone. As the tears fall, I think about the question I really want to know the answer to, but afraid to ask. I do it anyway because it’s eating me up inside. “Who did it?”
I can’t see her, but I can sense the hesitation, the fear of my reaction. She’s stalling. “I can’t—”
“Addie, who did it?” I ask again. “Who”—I swallow back the bile rising up my throat—“raped you?” The word is sour on my tongue and I flick it out of my mouth, desperate to get rid of the taste. Of the sound of such a disgusting act.
“I can’t—”
I move so fast and get in her face, desperate for answers. “Who raped you?” My voice is louder than necessary and I kneel to the ground in front of her get to her level. “Please. Just say it.”
Covering her face, she finally says, “Marcus.”
My heart slams against my chest and I’m so suddenly taken aback. “What?” I can’t believe my ears. It can’t be true. He wouldn’t do such a vile thing. He was our friend. He promised me he’d look after her. “I’m gonna kill him.” It’s not a threat, it’s a promise. One I intend to keep. That son of a bitch won’t see me coming.
For now, I’m going to focus on keeping Addie safe. And then I’ll deal with Marcus.
I pull her into my arms, whispering apologies for all I’ve done and didn’t do. Before her, I was just going through the motions, now I want to actually feel something. I want to erase what Marcus did. It will take a lot of time, but I can be patient.
Pulling back so our faces are only inches apart, I allow my eyes to fall to her lips, right before I press mine against them. Her response is immediate this time. And I get lost in the moment because this moment, right now, is all that matters.
Acknowledgements
I have way too many people to thank. First of all, thanks to my mother for her continuous support and giving me t
ime to write and watching my girls so I could concentrate. I stayed up a lot of nights and had many zombie-like days, but it was worth it and my mother never complained. She just was happy I was doing something I loved. I’ll be forever grateful! Thanks to my girls for their understanding and letting mommy work, even when it took time away from you. I love you so much!
Thanks, especially to my amazing editor, Kristen Switzer, for being so patient with my constant changes of the story and lack of punctuality. Your advice and input is so important to me and I appreciate all of your hard work. Thank you!
Thank you Christy Baldwin, Kelli Collopy, Adriana Noriega and Jessica Ramirez for your constant support in my writing. It’s because of you, I’m still writing. I would’ve given up if you ladies hadn’t pushed me to keep going. Love you bunches!
And last but not least, thanks to any and all my readers for reading and reviewing my books, whether you like them or not. It all means a lot to me regardless. Without readers, there are no writers. So thanks!
