by S. Massery
“You can’t be here,” Dad says. “I have rules against this sort of thing.”
“It’s urgent,” a man answers.
I shiver. I’m not sure what it is about the voice that invokes such a reaction, but I feel the need to brush cobwebs off my skin.
“Fine.” Dad doesn’t sound happy, but the door squeaks again, then clicks shut. Two sets of footsteps come farther into the house, toward his office.
I hurry down the stairs to the landing, sticking to the shadows, just in time to see Dad and a man pass by the arched entrance to the living room.
Tattoos. A starched white collar.
The same man from before?
My body’s reaction makes sense. I didn’t like the feeling he gave me in Dad’s office, so why would now be any different?
The urge to get out of the house is strong. Stronger than any inclination to eavesdrop, which is what I might’ve done when I was younger. I was always pressing my ear to the grate in my bedroom. It carried sounds up from Dad’s office.
I was extra quiet when I had girls over, because I knew that it was probably a two-way system. If I could hear him…
I lock myself in my room, then mentally scold myself. There’s a line between cautious and scared, and I am tipping over it. Still, I hurriedly swipe the water droplets off my legs and yank on boxers, then my jeans.
Only a few months ago, I would escape to Theo’s house, or Liam’s. If Caleb wasn’t around Margo, I’d sucker him into playing video games in the basement until that keyed-up feeling dissipated.
But now I’m alone.
I slip down the stairs and grab my keys, opting for the sliding door for old times’ sake. I make it most of the way through the dark kitchen when the light above the sink clicks on.
Mom leans her hip against the counter, a glass of wine in her hand. “Where are you sneaking off to?”
This could be a trap—why else would she be drinking in a dark room, alone?
“I need air,” I say.
She watches me, and I’m pretty sure she knows exactly why I’m fleeing—and where I’m running to. Or should I say, who.
“Be careful,” is all she says.
I nod, then step into the night.
It’s chilly, but the goosebumps pricking my skin are good. They wake me up.
There’s a black Mustang parked at the curb. It reminds me of Caleb’s matte-black Audi. It was an ostentatious purchase on his sixteenth birthday, when a bit of his inheritance was given to him by his uncle on ‘good faith’.
No one was fooled by David’s shameless tactics. He wanted Caleb back under his roof.
My parents wouldn’t have let that happen, though, and Caleb seemed ready to send a message to his uncle: that the money he gave him was fluff. Nothing more, nothing less.
So he used it on a flashy, fast car that would only get Caleb into trouble.
Typical.
My parents tried to talk me into a regular car, or something similar to Caleb’s, and they actually succeeded… until I crashed it.
I rub my collarbone with one hand and start my truck with the other.
The crash was a stupid mistake, and I’m lucky no one else was in the car with me. The force of the seat belt against my chest on impact broke my collarbone. It left me with a small fear of driving, but the truck helped. Knowing it was bigger than anything else on the road, that being run into wasn’t the be-all and end-all of the situation….
I wouldn’t be put in that helpless situation again.
It’s no surprise that I automatically drive to Riley’s house. I kill the engine.
This is too familiar—except I don’t usually take my own vehicle. This is suspicious. And yet, I can’t make myself drive away. Riley draws me to her like a freaking magnet.
I could take a page from Caleb’s book. Climb in through her bedroom window.
But then the front door opens, and a boy leaves. She’s right behind him, and she stops under the porch light’s golden glow. He gets to the steps, then pivots. It puts them at eye level.
My stomach clenches.
Who the fuck is he?
He reaches out and takes her hand, and I lean forward. If I have to watch her kiss him, I’ll riot.
I’ll burn her whole house to the ground.
But it’s worse: he says something, and she smiles. Grins, really. The sort of expression I used to be able to elicit from her, along with a giggle that never failed to get my dick hard.
He bends and kisses the back of her hand.
A growl comes out through my clenched teeth.
She takes a step back, and I can’t determine her emotions from here. Shock? Joy? Fear?
She keeps backing up until she bumps into the door.
Her mystery man turns and jogs across the lawn to his car, starting it up and driving away like nothing even fucking happened. While I’m here, paralyzed in my truck.
I can’t move.
Neither can Riley, apparently.
She leans against the door, and even from here I can see her whole body relax.
That puts me into motion.
I get out of the truck, leaving the door open in my hurry to get over to her. She doesn’t see me until I’m bounding up the steps of the porch, and I skid to a stop in front of her.
That relaxation leaves her as soon as her eyes snap open.
“You can’t be here,” she says.
I raise my eyebrow. I can’t even voice how angry I am at her right now, but I think she might be able to sense it. She feels around on the door, probably looking for the doorknob. She’ll go in and lock me out faster than I can blink.
She’s fucking with me.
Right?
She was mine long before she was anyone else’s. Just because we hate each other now doesn’t mean she’s stopped being mine.
Ah.
That’s the puzzle piece I was missing.
“Who was that?” I ask, stepping forward.
She freezes and narrows her eyes. “Who?”
“You’re going to play dumb?” Anger runs along my veins, heating me from the inside out. “Seriously?”
“I don’t answer to you.” She puts one hand on my chest.
Just that one touch sends electric charges through me.
We’re too close. She knows it, I know it.
As much as I want it, I can’t stand it.
I grip her wrist and pull it off me. “You get under my skin so fucking easily.”
I hate her.
“Why’d you do it, Ri?”
She stares. “Which part, Eli? When I dumped you because you broke my heart? Or because I burned the bridge?”
I narrow my eyes. “You knew what you were doing was wrong.”
She goes silent.
I press my hands to the door on either side of her head. We’ve been in this position too many times—she liked it. She still does, based on the way her breath hitches. My lips touch the shell of her ear.
She must’ve showered after practice, because her lavender shampoo fills my nose.
I grit my teeth, then whisper, “Whoever that was won’t touch you again. I’m not opposed to peeing on your leg if it sends the right message.”
“What message? That I’m a fire hydrant?”
Tough words for someone who isn’t moving. I don’t think she’s even breathing.
Even if she hates me, her body remembers.
I remember, too.
I meet her gaze. “That you’re fucking mine. Got it?”
12
Riley
He’s an asshole.
Just keep telling yourself that, Ri. Except, he’s always said I was his.
And what did I used to reply?
“You can’t own someone.” Those words come out of my mouth now, surprising me. “Especially after you fucking lie to them for the whole relationship.”
His brow lowers, but I’m done.
I duck under his arm and yank the door open, slipping inside.
/> How did such a good night turn to utter shit in the blink of an eye?
I lean against the door and close my eyes.
When I got home, Kaiden was in the kitchen with my mother. He had managed to lure her out of her hiding place, if only under the guise of being a guest in her home, and they were drinking coffee at the kitchen table.
She was laughing at something he said.
My heart ached and lightened all at once, because it had been too long since I’d heard that sound.
Kaiden had stopped by to see me, to ask how my senior year was going. He was studying at Columbia, but his classes were canceled for the day, and he decided to come back to Rose Hill. After a round of seeing family, I was his last stop.
But not Noah.
They had a falling out this summer, but Kaiden and I actually became something like friends. He was someone I could talk to when the world seemed to crumble around me. I assumed it was in my head, or dissolved when he went back to school.
But tonight he was here, making my mom laugh.
Who does that?
“He’s a sweet boy,” Mom says.
I flinch. “What?”
“Kaiden.” She stands in front of me, squinting. Looking more grounded than she has in a long time.
Like if I reached out, she might be solid under my fingertips.
“Are you all right, Riley?”
I shake my head. She didn’t see Eli.
“I’m okay. I just was glad to see you smiling.”
She offers me a smile now, then cups my cheek. Her hand is cool and dry, and I close my eyes for a moment. My heart is thumping painfully, and I can’t seem to release the doorknob.
“Your brother should be home soon,” she says. “It’s getting dark so early now…”
There it is.
The fade away.
Her hand falls, and I open my eyes in time to see the dream-like expression pass over her face. She tilts her head, then turns toward the stairs.
“Goodnight,” I call.
She doesn’t answer.
I have a sudden need to get out of here. My eyes burn, and the familiar lump in my throat returns. I can’t even swallow around it. My ears buzz like I’m filled with swarming bees.
I open the door again, only to find Eli still standing there.
A debate springs to mind. A choice.
A moment.
So much time has passed since Gram told me her theory about fate and the magic of a million moments colliding together, but it all comes rushing back.
What will you do when you get to a fork in the road, child?
“Come on,” I snap.
This is familiar.
He follows doggedly, as I knew he would. I head for his truck. The lights flash, doors unlocking just as I get to it, and I pull myself up into the passenger seat.
He opens his door but doesn’t get in. “What are you doing?”
“If you didn’t want me to get in, you wouldn’t have unlocked the door. I just need…” I grimace. “I don’t know.”
He nods once, finally climbing up and starting the engine.
“Do you remember the first time we did this?” he asks. “Pretty sure you were having a meltdown then, too.”
“I’m not—” I stop. I am. “Shut up.”
I stare out the window as we fly down the street. He’s always been a reckless driver, and it scared me… until it didn’t. He drives like this truck makes him invincible.
And maybe it does. It’s his armor.
We ride in silence for a while, and the random turns he makes becomes soothing.
I understand why children are rocked to sleep in a car.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.
And ruins it.
“No.”
“It wasn’t because of me.”
I glance at him. “Not totally.”
He gets on the highway, and I ignore the tight grip he has on the steering wheel.
You hate him, I remind myself. This was just a matter of convenience, him still being on my porch. Him being here at all.
“Are you going to talk about it?”
I grunt and debate it. I could tell him, and he probably wouldn’t judge me.
But he doesn’t really deserve my truth, does he?
And me? What do I deserve?
I close my eyes. It doesn’t matter where we’re going. That part of my brain still trusts him, at least.
“It’s odd,” I murmur.
“What?”
“That I’m able to close my eyes around you.”
“You didn’t say what I did to deserve this shit, Riley. Hate to say I’ve been left in the dark, but…”
I snap my eyes open and tilt my head so I can watch him. His eyes stay trained on the road, but his attention is on me.
“Do you remember the summer between my freshman and sophomore year?”
He nods once. “How could I forget?”
“It changed everything.”
He scowls. “Me, too.”
“I thought that.” But he was just pretending.
Eli adjusts his grip and glances at me. “You made a mistake, you know.”
My stomach flips. “How?”
“You got in the car with me.” His eyes narrow. “And I’m not letting you out until you tell me what I want to know.”
I let out a long sigh.
Freshman year was a wash for me. Mom was in the hospital too much, on the verge of death, and Noah and I refused to leave her side. Well, I refused to leave her side—Noah went to school, to soccer practice, and slept at the hospital. We can hardly call that the same thing.
I only showed up at school to take tests, my midterms, and finals.
But the summer…
I had successfully avoided Eli for a year, staved off Amelie’s attempts to get me on the cheerleading team, and made a few friends while I was at it.
Even if I wasn’t one of them, the popular girl feeling was contagious.
13
Riley
Two and a Half Years Ago
Dad stands in the foyer with an unreadable expression.
“It’s just a party,” I plead. I spent hours getting my makeup just right, and there’s a tube of dark-red lipstick in my pocket for later, after I’m out of my parents’ sight. “I’ll be responsible when school starts, but isn’t it time I’ve had some fun? It’s a holiday.”
“She has a point.” Mom chuckles from behind me. “Where’s the party?”
I perk up. “Jackie’s lake house. They’re having a bonfire on the sand. Ian is driving Amelie, Skylar, and me. I think they’re doing fireworks.”
Mom leans on the doorframe. She’s been home for a week, and we’ve been cautiously optimistic. By cautious, I mean we’ve all been holding our breath and walking on eggshells. No one wants to mention the R word.
Because what if she isn’t in remission? If the treatment didn’t work?
She’s skin and bones, but her appetite came roaring back a few days ago. Her cough doesn’t rattle. She wears cute little caps that hide her bald head, and we keep running our hands over her scalp like we’re trying to coax the hair out.
Soon, soon, she says, laughing.
The house is warm again.
Again—like it was warm to begin with. We moved in and it was cold. It was empty. But now Mom’s home, and the whole place has come alive. Decorations on the mantel for Dad’s birthday, a line of get well soon cards, a stack of presents from distant family members near the fireplace. We’ve unpacked more, all at once our things exploding all over the house.
We’re here to stay.
Little bubbles of heat pop in my chest, fizzling like pop rocks.
“So…” I push forward on my toes.
“You can go,” Dad allows.
“And I can sleep over Amelie’s house?” I bite my lip.
Mom giggles. “Sure.”
“Thank you!” I rush forward and kiss her cheek, then Dad’s.
A horn honks outside, and I grab my keys on the way out the door. Ian’s SUV comfortably fits all of us—another boy in the passenger seat and Amelie behind Ian. Skylar is in the third row.
I climb in, sending one last wave to my parents.
“I brought you a change of clothes,” Amelie says to me. “I figured you wouldn’t get out of the house in a skirt, so here.” She hands me a scrap of silky black fabric.
It doesn’t feel much bigger than the short-shorts they wear at cheer practice, hugging their asses.
“Um, I’m okay.” My jean shorts aren’t too short, but they work. They’re frayed, and the pockets hang out from the bottom. I painted my nails alternating blue and red. This is my first real party—like, drive with a group of friends, plan to get wasted, not have my brother peering over my shoulder sort of thing.
I don’t actually know if I’m sleeping over at Amelie’s.
Maybe we’ll crash on the living room floor at Jackie’s and come home in the morning.
“You’re practically vibrating,” Amelie says to me. “We have forty-five minutes.”
I take a deep breath. “Right.”
She hands me a flask. “Take a sip of this.”
“If you throw up in my car, I’ll drop you off on the side of the road,” Ian threatens.
I raise my eyebrows and unscrew the cap, taking a tiny sip. It burns all the way down, settling in my stomach. Wow. People like to drink this stuff?
Skylar laughs. “I don’t think she’s a vodka fan, Amelie.”
I hand the flask back and wrinkle my nose. “I’ll stick to… something else. Anything else.”
“Jungle juice,” the boy in the passenger seat says. He twists around. “You can’t even taste the liquor.”
Hmm. “Thanks.”
He extends his hand toward me. “Jake Morrison.”
I tilt my head. The name sounds sort of familiar, but I can’t place it.
“Liam’s brother,” Skylar whispers, her chin touching my shoulder. “Isn’t he cute?”
I snort and take his hand, giving it a firm shake. “Um, right. Nice to meet you.”
I can’t quite make out all his features in the dark car, but he does seem to resemble his brother. Eli’s friend.
