Headstrong

by Meg Maguire

  Libby bit her lip. “Connecticut.”

  “Prentiss? Prentiss University? That’s your family?”

  She nodded shyly against the pillow.

  “Holy shit… But you went to Harvard, didn’t you? Isn’t that like the biggest Ivy League rivalry in the history of the world?”

  “I’ve done a lot of things in my life expressly to irritate my father. And I thought you googled me. I figured you knew that, already.”

  “I only looked you up enough to figure out what you did to make your dad so paranoid.” He fell silent, absorbing this new information. “Did he pay for it? Your schooling?”

  “No, my grandma did. His mother. She divorced my grandfather amid a gigantic scandal in the eighties. She got a huge chunk of change and dragged his philandering name through the mud. Quite publicly,” Libby added with satisfaction.

  “Yikes.”

  “I’m named after her,” Libby said proudly. “Anyway, she’s the one whose money I inherited. I’m cut off from my dad, which is fine with me, if only he’d leave me alone. He goes to great lengths to keep my embarrassing little activities quiet. You know, the things I used to get up to.”

  “Why do you hate him so much?” Colin sounded uncomfortable. “Dads are always protective of their daughters.”

  “He made me get an abortion. Like, forced me to. I might have gotten one anyway, but I wasn’t given a choice.” Libby felt a very old and familiar anger lodge in her throat.

  Colin didn’t say anything for a moment. His hands twitched, as though he wanted to do something to comfort her but didn’t know how to begin. “Libby. That’s…that’s horrible.”

  “Yeah. And then he threw me in an institution.”

  “What, like a mental ward?”

  “Yeah. The poshest, most discreet loony bin in New England. After I tried to kill myself.”

  Colin flipped his body over, hugging his pillow under his chest. He stared at Libby, and it was like looking in a mirror. She let her thick silver bracelets slip down her arm to reveal the faint scar on her wrist. Colin’s eyes widened and he looked as if he might cry.

  “Sorry,” she said. “This is so depressing.”

  “No, keep going. I’m tough. I want to hear.”

  “Well, I got tossed in there for two years, for the rest of high school, to keep me quiet. So I wouldn’t run off and blab our family’s dirty little secret to the press or whatever. The whole time I was there everybody thought I was studying abroad. By the time I got out my spirit was like completely broken, and I didn’t want to tell anyone, anyway. I’d studied really hard and got accepted to Harvard, and so I just ran off and started my life away from my family.”

  “Is Harvard that far from Connecticut?”

  “Not really. But it was far enough. And worth it, to piss my dad off.” She smiled. “And Cambridge is cool, once you get off campus. I loved it there. Living in shitty apartments after growing up with all that upper-class BS. Plus I couldn’t live in the dorms—it felt way too much like the nuthouse.”

  “Well,” Colin said. “I’m sorry you had such a terrible experience.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He turned back over and sank his head into the pillow.

  “Do you think I’m complete freak, now?” she asked the ceiling.

  “I suspect everybody’s a complete freak. Except you. And maybe me. We’re the normal ones.”

  “Do you ever feel like a freak?” she asked.

  “I used to, yeah. I still do, sometimes. More now that Reece is back. If there’s a black sheep in our family, it’s definitely me.”

  “I’d have thought it was Reece. Everybody else is so easygoing.”

  “Yeah, but he’s the golden child. Perfect. Never messed anything up in his whole life. Not majorly.” He didn’t sound bitter exactly, but weary.

  “Colin.”

  “Yeah, Libby?”

  “Where did you get your scar?”

  “It’s a really horrible story.”

  “You got to hear about my really horrible story,” she said. “And my scar.”

  “Yeah. But this is pretty fucked up.”

  Libby turned onto her side to show that she was prepared to listen.

  “I guess it might make you feel better. If you’re into schadenfreude.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I went halfway through a windscreen.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Don’t feel bad, it was my own fault, really. Hit a tree.”

  “Ouch.”

  “To say the least.”

  “But you’re okay,” she said, studying his face.

  “Yeah…but my girlfriend was killed.”

  Libby felt her limbs go numb and her throat close up.

  Colin stared at the ceiling.

  “Jesus…that’s awful.” She didn’t know what else to say. “But it was an accident. Right?”

  “Yeah, it was raining hard out, sort of like tonight, but that’s no excuse.”

  “Yeah, it sort of is,” she said. “Unless you were drunk or something. Were you drunk?”

  He shrugged. “Not technically. But I’d had a couple beers. Enough to wonder for the rest of my life if it was completely my fault. I may as well have been drunk, for how much it’s eaten away at me ever since.”

  “But you weren’t…were you charged with anything?”

  “I was acquitted of manslaughter,” he said, voice flat. “It got chalked up to road conditions.”

  “So it wasn’t your fault—”

  “Libby, I killed someone. Save your sympathy, sweetheart.”

  She fell silent for a few moments.

  “Did you love her?” she finally asked.

  Colin frowned, looking surprised by the question. “Eh…probably not. Not yet, I mean. We hadn’t been going out that long. She was a great girl, though. We’d been at a party that night. It was sort of for the best, as she was pretty drunk and she slept through everything. You know. Painless.” It didn’t sound painless, judging from his voice.

  “God.”

  “So yeah. And I tried to kill myself, too. You know how that goes.”

  “Jesus, Colin.”

  “Yeah. Tried to drown myself a couple weeks after I’d been acquitted. I just couldn’t handle it. Anything. That couldn’t have helped Reece’s fear of water,” he added glibly.

  “Was he there for it?”

  “He was away when the car accident happened, but he came home when he found out. Though I asked him not to.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, he felt obligated, I guess.”

  “No, I mean why didn’t you want him to come home?” Libby asked.

  “He was supposed to be in the Olympics at the time.”

  “Oh, shit. Right.”

  “But he came home anyway. It was a bloody nice thing for him to do. Too nice, in my opinion. Like I needed another thing to feel like a shit about.”

  “And he’d gone back to wherever by the time you tried to…?”

  “Yeah. The Games were buggered, thanks to me, and he went back to his teaching job in England. I pretty much forced him to. I made my parents and Annie promise not to tell him about it after I tried to kill myself. And when he found out a couple years later, it wasn’t even from me or them—he heard through a friend, since lots of people here knew. This friend of ours was just trying to be nice, you know, ask how I was doing. But it’s not how he should have found out.” Colin cleared his throat. “I should have told him myself but I kept putting it off. I think that really hurt him, being left in the dark about that. But I couldn’t bear to have him come back again to try to pick up the pieces of my fucked-up little life for me… You have a twin sister, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And she’s all picture-perfect, isn’t she?”

  “Painfully.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen her picture-perfect picture,” Colin said. “Well, imagine her rushing in with all her perfection when you’re feeling more like a sc
rew-up than you ever have in your entire life. And her wanting to help fix everything you’ve fucked up. I couldn’t handle that. Reece is…special. Really talented. He beats himself up about not being here for our family through all that stuff, like when our dad was sick. I give him shit for it too, sometimes. But it’s insane for him to be back here when there’s better opportunities over there, chances to travel.”

  “Maybe he loves his family. Ever think of that?”

  “Sure.” Colin fell silent.

  “So did somebody save you, when you tried to drown yourself?”

  “Yeah, some wharfie. Poor bastard—I was such an ungrateful dick to him. I was in so much pain back then.”

  “And now?” Libby asked.

  “Yeah, still, but I got over myself a lot when my dad got sick. Without Reece around I became the man of the house, by default. Grew up a bit.”

  Libby thought for a moment. “So that’s why you don’t drink or drive?”

  He nodded. “I think I forfeited those privileges the night of the accident. I can’t stand the thought of drinking again, anyway, even a half a glass of beer. Makes me feel sick to my stomach. And driving just scares the shit out of me, of course. I can’t even ride in a car when it’s raining.”

  Libby stared thoughtfully off toward the wall beyond Colin. “You know, Tiger, you’re more my twin than my twin is.”

  “That doesn’t flatter you. But I think it reflects pretty well on me. Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “What’s with the flirting?” He looked over at her with a guilty smirk.

  “My tarty persona? I started doing that after I got out of the institution. I was kind of petrified of men, but I guess I was more angry than I was scared. After the whole pregnancy thing happened, my parents started treating me like a complete skank. Especially my dad. So I figured if he was going to treat me that way, I’d give him a reason to. Or at least let him think it was true. And then I figured out that men are actually a lot less scary than I’d thought. They’re actually really easy to control. No offense.”

  “None taken. But why do that to your dad? Why make him worry even more? Why not just forget him and move on?”

  “Because fuck him, that’s why. He’ll never believe I’m anything except a terrible failure of a person, so I let him. I’m sort of hoping he’ll disown me one day. I’ve been trying everything I can think of to tarnish our family’s good name ever since I finished school.”

  “That’s pretty harsh, Libby.”

  “Yeah, well.” She shrugged. “I’ve sort of given that up, now, all that stuff I got in trouble for that you read about. But he still has me followed, obviously.”

  “Not that it’s my business, but have you ever thought about forgiving him?”

  “Nope. Why should I do that? He stuffed me in the back of a closet when I needed him most.”

  “Well, a lot of parents wouldn’t forgive some piece of shit who drove after a couple beers and killed their daughter. But some do, eventually. And it can save somebody’s sanity, being forgiven.”

  Libby felt another icy chill but wasn’t ready to soften. “Well, if my father ever shows any sign of regret, I may consider considering it. But not now. And I’m not giving up the tart act, either.”

  “You know what you are?” Colin squinted at her, seeming ready to let the heavy topics slide. “You’re like the Madonna/whore complex, inverted. You’re a near-virgin behind closed doors and a tramp on the street. There’s got to be a ton of very psychologically confused blokes out there just dying to meet a piece of work like you.”

  “You Nolans do know how to flatter.”

  “If I was your brother, I wouldn’t let you talk to men the way you do,” Colin said.

  “Well, I’m so very glad you’re not. That would mean Reece was my brother as well, and that would make the messing around really disturbing.”

  “And if this were fifty years ago I’d tell you you’re asking for trouble.”

  “And I’m so very glad I don’t have to wear pantyhose,” Libby said.

  Colin turned on his side and took Libby’s shoulder in his hand, pulled her face to his throat and pressed his lips to the crown of her head. Their bent knees touched, and she clasped her hands in front of her heart as his hand tangled in her hair.

  Lying there, her head held so fiercely and compassionately in Colin’s warm hand, Libby felt something shift in her perception of…pretty much everything. Everything that had been missing from her ridiculous experiments with Reece, that elemental warmth and mutuality, that affection, it was here. It had always been here. And it had always scared her, until now.

  Libby let her hand find Colin’s side and tugged herself tighter into this hug. Her sadness drained away, replaced with a sudden, potent, animal curiosity. As she let her body to press into his, she heard and felt a shift in him too—a tightening. A hitch in the rhythm of his breathing. All the things that happened to her own body each time she’d managed to steal a little taste of his brother’s affections. What would it feel like, she wondered, to explore those delicious, denied feelings with someone who actually reciprocated them? How would it feel to give those feelings, instead of taking them?

  The hand that had developed a firm grip on Colin’s waist slid up, running over his strong arm, fingers slipping beneath the sleeve of his T-shirt. Her breathing turned heavy, and she could feel the moisture of it building against his neck. The length of Colin’s body grew rigid and alert, and Libby pulled her head back to gaze at him. His eyes were half-lidded and unsteady, brows raised with uncertainty. Libby swallowed, staring at his mouth.

  “Don’t do this,” he whispered, and shut his eyes.

  “Do what?” Libby asked, but then she did it.

  Her lips against his, already parted—the most perfect fit imaginable. Colin’s hand twitched in her hair but he didn’t pull away. Eyes still clenched shut, he submitted, and Libby put her hand to his jaw and kissed him deeper. His mouth surrendered and when he kissed her back—the pressure of his lips and his hand, the hot glide of his tongue against hers, the sound of exquisite disbelief rising from his throat—Libby officially understood what kissing was all about.

  She let her knees brush his again, hoping he might invite her legs to tangle with his, but he didn’t. She held his face tightly, not wanting this slow, exploratory, unexpected moment to ever end.

  Her tongue slid between his lips to find his again, and suddenly it was as if Colin had been bitten. He pulled away, roused from some trance and all at once wide awake. He swung his legs over the ledge of the pool table and hopped off, running a hand across his jaw.

  Libby sat up, alarmed by the distress she’d caused him. Causing people distress was normally something she enjoyed and excelled at, but she couldn’t bear the thought of hurting Colin. She stood and stepped to him, trying to read his face. Please don’t let her lose both Nolans in one night…

  “Colin?” She put her hands on his shoulders, studying the panic in his eyes.

  “Don’t do this to me.” He plucked her fingers away from his shirt, handing them back to her. He met her eyes and smiled weakly. Sadly.

  “I’m sorry.” Her fingers clasped together at her waist, uncertain of the specifics of their offense. “I thought you wanted that.”

  Colin covered his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose, letting go a painful-sounding sigh.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again. Dear God, how had she misjudged this so badly?

  He uncovered his eyes and stared at her, his panic seeming to have subsided. After a few moments spent gathering his thoughts, he took Libby firmly by the arms, holding her at a distance. “Don’t be sorry. Just…please don’t do that again. You don’t know what that does to me.”

  “Oh.”

  “I know you aren’t trying to be cruel, but Christ. That’s…”

  “Sorry—”

  “Don’t be sorry,” he repeated. “C’mere.”

  Libby accepted h
is hug, careful to keep her embrace as limp and platonic as possible.

  When Colin stepped back he was smiling again. “Holy hell, woman.” His humor had returned though he was clearly still rattled.

  Libby bit her lip, stifling her fourth apology.

  Colin gave her a little shake. “Do you always wave bright red capes about when you’re in a bull pen? No wonder you’re constantly getting yourself in trouble with blokes.”

  “Well, someone always comes along to save me,” she said meekly, testing the waters of their resumed normality.

  “Yeah, well, he can’t do that if you’ve got him incapacitated. God, don’t do that.”

  “Sorry.” This time when she said it, she was laughing.

  “I’m going to throttle you.” He looked around the room, fixing his gaze on the frosted panes of the window. Rain hammered hard on the other side. “I guess you can’t stay on your boat, even if you wanted to.”

  “No. Probably not.”

  “Are you ready to go up? Get some sleep before our big Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner date tomorrow?”

  “I guess.”

  “You can sleep in my bed, if you want to avoid seeing Reece. I don’t mind the couch. He’s up early tomorrow, I think. You’d only have to hide out until seven, maybe.”

  “No, that’s okay. I don’t want him to think I care, you know? Salvage some dignity, unlike last time.”

  “Gotcha. Ready?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, what the hell.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Libby’s jaw dropped. She hoisted it back up and fixed her mouth into an approving smirk.

  Colin leaned in the kitchen doorway, gazing over at the couch where Libby sat with her hair twirled up in a towel, post-shower. He’d put on a white collared shirt under a black sweater this morning, and his sneakers had been replaced with shined shoes. Without his usual urban trappings distracting the eye, precisely how handsome Colin was became strikingly clear. He held up the coffee pot as an inquiry.

  “No, thanks. You clean up real nice, Tiger.”

  He looked down at himself. “You reckon? Jeans are still okay, right? It’s just a posh bistro, isn’t it, the place you picked?”

  Libby’s smile evaporated. “Oh, no no no. You can’t wear that tonight!”