Текст книги "Captured Love"

Автор книги: Juliana Haygert

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

I blinked back happy tears. “Wow, I can’t believe you guys are here!”

“We can’t believe you are here!” Sophie said.

“And you didn’t tell us!” Rachel added.

“I’m sorry.” I held their hands. “I’m not sure what I was thinking. Maybe I thought you guys would have moved. I don’t know really. I’m sorry.”

Sophie winked. “You’re forgiven.”

“But just because you’ll be here for three months!” Rachel squealed.

“Where’s Faith?” I asked about our other friend.

“She moved to California before our senior year,” Sophie said. “We still talk to her online or through emails, but it’s not the same.”

I nodded, knowing all too well what distance could do to a friendship.

“Girls.” Mama, who had entered the house and we hadn’t even seen it, appeared at the front door. “Come inside. I have tea and some other things.”

“Hmm, how I missed your mom’s ‘other things.’” Rachel did air quotes with her fingers, then hooked her arm through mine.

We walked into the house together, went into the kitchen together, took the cups and saucers and all we would need to the back porch table together, and sat down together.

Luna sprawled under the table at our feet.

It was so great being around them. It felt right, familiar. I had known them both, and Faith, since kindergarten, and we had been best friends since. Until I suddenly left town and stopped speaking to them.

I served the tea into their cups. “How did you guys find out I was back?” I asked.

Sophie fidgeted with her spoon. “We’re still friends with the guys. Jason and Luke told us.”

Rachel gave me a wary look. “So, you’re over Ryan?”

I cringed at his name. I hadn’t said that name out loud in so long. “There was nothing to be over.” I picked up my spoon and stirred my tea, my movements brusque. “Can we not talk about the guys?” They exchanged another look. “What?”

“Nothing.” Rachel shrugged. “You asked not to talk about the guys, so then we won’t talk about them.”

I nodded. “Good. Now tell me what you two have been up to.”

Sophie told me she was studying economics at USC and working at her father’s insurance company, which was odd since I remembered her hating math and anything to do with it. And Rachel told me she studied jewelry at SCAD Savannah, whatever that meant. She came home almost every weekend though. At the end of each semester, she brought home the jewelry she designed in class and sold the pieces to our friends and their mothers and whoever showed up.

“These are mine.” She gestured toward her necklace and her earrings. Small black stones accented by bronze details.

“This one too,” Sophie said, raising her hand and showing me her ring. A large flower made of pink stones.

Wow, she was talented. “They are gorgeous. Do you have more? I would like to see them.”

“Didn’t bring them over.” She pouted. “But I’ll bring some another time. We have three months to catch up now.”

I smiled, equally glad. “I know.” Perhaps this summer wouldn’t be a complete disaster after all.

After putting her cup down, Rachel rummaged through her purse.

Sophie reached for one of Mama’s famous coconut cookies. “Where’s the fire?”

Rachel pulled something silver from insider her purse. “Ta-da! We have to take a picture of this moment.”

I grimaced at the camera she was holding. The teacup fell from my hand onto the table, spilling tea on the cookies.

“Rachel,” Sophie said, waving at the camera.

Rachel stared from me to the camera and back at me. Realization shone in her eyes. “Oh, gosh, sorry.” She put it away quickly. “So, so sorry.”

“You’ll have to have patience with us.” Sophie grabbed a few napkins and started working at the mess, while I just stared, completely out of it. “We didn’t think pictures would upset you.”

So much fuss because of a camera. Get a grip, damn it! I couldn’t hide from pictures and cameras forever. Although, I wanted to.

“I don’t want to let pictures and cameras upset me, but I can’t help it. Not after …” I swallowed hard through a big lump in my throat. There was no way I could finish that sentence. Taking a deep breath, I picked up a napkin and helped Sophie dry the tabletop. At least my teacup had been almost empty. “It’s okay.” I pursed my lips then forced the next words out. “I need to get past those details.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have anything to get over,” Rachel commented, her tone matter-of-fact.

“Rachel!” Sophie chided her.

“What?” Rachel shrugged. “It’s not like we don’t know what happened. If you want to get over it, then talk about it. I’m sure it’ll help.”

I leaned back in my chair. She was right. Talking would probably help. But I hadn’t talked about it for four years, not even to Kristin. “I’m not ready.”

Sophie rested her hand on mine. “It’s okay. We understand.”

“We’re here when you’re ready,” Rachel added. Always so direct and fierce. She hadn’t changed one bit.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

We fell into a comfortable silence. It was good to be with them again. They had been my best friends, my pillars, my wake up call, my confidants, my everything for so many years. I could easily see the three of us hanging out together all the time during the summer.

“Your parents still have it,” Sophie said.

I turned to her and followed her gaze to the largest tree on the right side of the yard. My tree house. “It looks like it.”

“We spent some great times there,” Rachel said.

“We did.” I sighed, remembering the slumber parties we had almost every weekend in that tree house. I reached for my fallen teacup.

Sophie gestured toward it. “Do you think it could still hold us?”

I served myself more tea. “What do you mean?”

A wicked smile took over Sophie’s face. “If we could still go up there and stay up there.”

Rachel gasped. “You mean have a slumber party? Up there?”

“Yes,” Sophie answered.

Rachel clapped her hands. “That would be awesome!”

I almost spitted the tea I was drinking. “You two are nuts. We haven’t done that since we were what, thirteen, fourteen?”

“We’re twenty now,” Sophie said, “but who cares? I think we would have so much fun. We could pretend everything was back to normal, like it was before. We could do each other’s nails while talking trash about the guys and planning our pranks on the bitches at our schools.”

Curious, I turned to her. “What happened to the bitches anyway?”

Rachel cocked her eyebrows at me. “Are you asking about a specific bitch?”

“Hell no.” I pressed my hands together. “Tell me about all the others, but Caryn, please.”

Sophie wiggled her eyebrows at me. “All right, I’ll tell you about them during our slumber party.”

Rachel giggled, and I realized the decision was made for me.

Like three teenagers, we were going to have a slumber party in my tree house.

Chapter Five

 

Ryan

“How did you do this?” I asked, leaning over Jason’s street bike.

A little odd for a Saturday morning, he had brought his messed up bike over to my garage a few minutes after I emerged from my apartment to work on my cruiser bike.

Jason crouched beside me. “Racing last night. The guy closed up on me, and my bike skidded off. I was able to jump from under it before the weight really settled in, but my favorite leather jacket is currently in the trash.”

If it didn’t hurt to talk about bike racing, I would have laughed.

Jason, Luke, and Ethan continued with occasional late-night illegal races, but since my last race almost four years ago, I hadn’t hopped on a bike, much less gone with them and had a good time. Although, they tried to take me.

Once, they told me we were going to a pub in Columbia, so we all filed into Ethan’s Camaro. Instead of going to Columbia, they took me to one of the secret racing places around Lexington. I lost it. The car hadn’t even come to a full stop when I stepped out and marched away. The guys came after me, but I was out of it.

“You have to face it, Ryan,” Luke said, pulling my arm.

Now I know he meant well, but at the time, red was all I saw. Because of that, I buried my fist in his nose.

Luke fell back, totally surprised.

Jason faced me next, and shit, I almost hit him too. Ethan, who was larger than I was, finally held my arms behind my back. That was when the red started fading. The anger gave way to sadness. Regret.

I jerked Ethan off. “Let me go,” I warned, my voice rough, dark. “If you guys don’t want any more broken noses, don’t bring me here again.” I whirled on the heels of my boot and marched home. It took me forty minutes, but it was good. I needed to clear my mind.

“Ethan also lost, though he didn’t fall off his bike,” Jason said, pulling me back from my memories. “Luke won, as usual.”

“Of course he did.” My tone was tighter than I wanted it to.

Luke was a semi-professional racer—who also raced illegally for fun every now and then. He trained with Ethan’s uncle, John, who had been a great racer when he was younger. As expected, Luke was doing great. I could have been great too, and even though it wasn’t Luke’s fault I couldn’t race anymore, jealousy over his success always hit me like a bitch.

Jason pointed to his bike. “So, what’s the verdict?”

The body was smashed, the left mirror was hanging loose, and the front headlight was broken. “If I can get the parts in by next Wednesday, I would need maybe one more week to fix it.”

“Dude, I came to you because I thought you would be faster.” Jason stood up and straightened his not-so-favorite leather jacket. “I can fix it on my own if it’s going to take that long.”

I stood beside him and readjusted my leather gloves. “Sorry, J-man, but I have work five or six days per week, and then curfew on weekdays. I can’t spend a lot of time on it.”

“My summer classes start next week, so I won’t have a lot of time either.” He tsked. “That’s okay. I wanted to race next weekend, make some money, but that’s okay. There will be other races.”

I nodded. There would be. For him, Luke, Ethan, and the entire town. Not for me though.

I reached over to the small fridge under the counter, grabbed two cans of Coke, and tossed one to Jason. It would have looked better if two big guys standing around bikes in a garage were drinking beer, but I tried to avoid alcohol as much as I could.

“Thanks,” he said, opening his can.

I took a good look at him. Ruffled blond hair, dark circles under his eyes, and crumpled clothes. “Did you just get into town from the bike event?”

“Yup. If I go home with that messed up bike, my mother might have a heart attack.”

“But there’s nothing I can do for it now, other than start taking it apart.”

“I know. I’ll drive home though, and then I’ll bring it back later. I’ll have Luke come with me to give me a ride.”

“Sounds good.”

He took a sip of his Coke. “So. How are you?”

I took a big swallow of my drink. The cold liquid ran down my throat, giving me energy and time to think of a good answer. I knew where Jason was going with this. “The same as always.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

I shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“Even with my sister back?”

I gritted my teeth. “So what, she’s back.”

“Have you already seen her?”

I nodded. “Yup. I was driving and she was running. The first time, I almost drove on the sidewalk.”

He lifted both eyebrows. “And that is being okay?”

“What? I was shocked. It was the first time I saw her in four years.” And she was even more beautiful than I remembered. How wouldn’t that mess with a guy’s head? “I don’t think she saw me though.”

“So you’re okay with her being here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I drank the rest of my Coke and threw the can in the trash. If only I could do that with my feelings. “She’s free to do whatever she wants. Hopefully, we won’t run into each other too much.”

“This town isn’t that big,” Jason said, his voice low.

Didn’t I know that? She had been here for five days, and I had already run into her. How many more times would I suffer until the summer was over?

I opened one of my toolboxes, eager to find something else to busy my mind. “Catch.” I threw a wrench at Jason. He closed his free hand around it before it hit him in the chest. “We can’t work on your bike yet, but we can work on mine.”

***

Jessica

I punched the dough. It could have my frustration; it wouldn’t complain.

But Mama would. “The poor dough isn’t guilty, whatever the crime.”

I stepped away from the table before I got mad, and after destroying the bread’s dough instead of softening it, started breaking the plates and cups.

This morning, I had gone running with Luna again. It was good for my body and my mind. It was great to clear my thoughts. However, this time, the technique didn’t work. Even while running, my mind turned to him.

Despite my will, I wondered where he was, what he was doing. On a Saturday morning? He was probably crawling out of some girl’s bed, racing to his car and driving away as fast as he could.

I wondered if he still had the Mustang. If that car could talk.

I often lied that I was going to Rachel’s or Sophie’s or Faith’s house, but instead, Ryan took me for a ride. A ride that usually ended with his car parked in the middle of nowhere and us getting heavy in the backseat. In the brief time we were together, he never pressured me about sex, though he made it clear that whenever I was ready, he was too.

Now I wondered how many girls he had taken for secret rides. How many of those had let him go all the way on that same backseat?

I shuddered.

“Hon?” Mama called me, bringing me back to the present.

I washed my hands under the faucet, scrubbing the flour from my fingers, as if the memories could go down the drain with it.

“Don’t get me wrong,” I started, drying my hands on the kitchen towel. “If I’m gonna stay here until the end of summer, I need something else to do. Something I like to do.”

All we had done for the last five days was cook, bake, and visit my unconscious father at the hospital. When Mama invited me to go to the grocery store, I declined, afraid of running into the townspeople and reliving what I had tried so hard to forget. Rachel and Sophie had come for dinner on Thursday night, but we barely spoke. I knew they wanted to talk about the past and how it affected me now, but I wasn’t ready. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I would ever be.

Mama didn’t look up from the bowl she was working on. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere I can work with the things I’m good at. Drawing, calculating, maybe even drafting architectural plans.”

“Sorry, honey, can’t help you with that.”

She might not be able to help me, but I had to find someone who could. I left the dough for Mama to finish and started chopping the vegetables for today’s salad while thinking about who I knew that could point me in the right direction. If they hadn’t switched jobs in four years, Sophie’s parents worked at city hall, Rachel’s mother was a nurse, and her father was an accountant.

“Anyone home?” Aunt Cadence’s voice came from the family room, interrupting my thoughts.

“In here,” Mama called. She had already worked the dough, and now stirred a white sauce for whatever she was cooking for lunch.

Aunt Candace entered the kitchen carrying a couple of grocery bags. “I should have guessed you would be here.” She put the bags on the kitchen table. “Everything okay in here?”

“Yes, but you can get started on the cake.” Mama pointed to the ingredients already stacked in a corner of the counter.

“Good morning.” Uncle Turner entered the kitchen with more bags in his hands. “Jessica, I’m so glad to see you.” He left the bags on the table with the others and approached me with open arms.

I dropped the knife and hugged him. “Hello, Uncle T.”

He pulled back and looked at me. “Oh my, what a wonderful young woman you’re turning out to be. Just like all the women in this family.” He winked at his wife and she chuckled.

It was a pity I couldn’t say he looked good too. Like Aunt Cadence, he had gained some weight and his mustache was fuller, longer, but his hairline had receded half an inch at least.

Aunt Cadence shook her head. “Quite the charmer.”

“As always.” I picked up the knife to keep chopping. “What are the bags for?”

“Well,” Aunt Cadence said, “since we’re always eating here and having your mother bake cakes and cookies and even full meals for us, I bring the ingredients every now and then.”

That was actually nice of her. I watched them for a moment: Mama cooking, and my aunt and my uncle putting the groceries inside the cabinets in the right places. They didn’t step in each other’s way or crossed arms here and there. Total synchrony. I had forgotten how much they worked well together.

I went back to chopping vegetables until I heard the engine outside the house. The knife fell from my hand and cut my palm. I hissed and Mama ran to me.

“Jessica,” she said, as if my name could solve everything and mend the cut. She held my wrist and pulled me to the sink. Aunt Candace and Uncle T. already hovered over us. “What happened?”

They were used to that engine reeving. I had conditioned myself to forget it. When I heard it again, so close, I panicked.

“I got distracted,” I lied.

The cut was superficial, but plenty of blood had spilled on my tee, and plenty of pain made me clench my teeth and hiss some more.

“I’m going to get antiseptic and gauze.” Mama dried her hands on a towel and left the kitchen.

Aunt Cadence wrapped a paper towel around my hand. “Hold this until your mother comes back.”

“I should go upstairs too.” I gestured toward my tee. “To change this.”

I squeezed a paper towel against my palm and exited the kitchen. While upstairs, I could grab some ibuprofen too.

The engine revved again, closer, and I jumped, almost knocking over a side table and the lamp on it.

“Jesus Christ,” I grumbled.

No running now. I took a deep breath and prepared myself. Be brave. Be brave. I heard the footsteps on the porch, and saw the knob turning and the door opening.

My brother stepped into the house, Luna trailing behind him. His eyes found mine, and he stopped, one hand still on the knob, the other holding his bike keys.

He looked the same. Tall, not too large, but he had been working out since I was a little kid. He had the same dark blue eyes I had, but the blond of his hair was a shade or two lighter than mine, and it was cut short.

I gulped down the sad memories clogging my throat. “Hi, Jason.”

He closed the door. “Hi.”

“I thought you knew I was coming.”

He took two steps toward me. “I knew. It just wasn’t easy to believe. It has been four years.”

“Almost four years.”

His eyes looked up and down at me, not in a creepy way, just a big brother being overprotective of his little sister. “You look beautiful.” Then his gaze fell on my palm and the bloodied paper towel. He rushed to me and cradled my hand in his. “What happened?”

My eyes filled with tears. Almost four years without seeing or hearing each other and he reacted as he always did. He cared for me. There was only once, during one weekend, when he didn’t care about my feelings or me.

I stepped back, pulling my hand from his. “I was helping Mama in the kitchen and cut myself. Nothing much.”

His shoulders sagged. “I assume I’m not forgiven.”

“You assume right.” I heard footsteps approaching the stairs and added in a whisper, “I’m only enduring you because of her.”

“Here it is!” Mama exclaimed, coming into the living room. “Oh, I thought you were in the kitchen.” As she unwrapped the gauze and opened the antiseptic, her eyes shifted from Jason to me then back to Jason. “How was the trip?”

He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Good.” Jason turned to the stairs. “Do I have time to shower before lunch?”

“Yes,” Mama said. “We won’t be done for another hour.”

He nodded, patted Luna’s head, and ran up the stairs. Of course, the dog followed him.

Silently, Mama cleaned my palm with the paper towel, sprayed the antiseptic on the cut, and wrapped a thin layer of gauze around my hand.

When she was done, she held my hand. “I don’t know all of the details of what happened, but I know Jason is not guilty and you shouldn’t be mad at him for so long.”

I got free from her hold. “Like you said, you don’t know all the details.”

“Honey, look at your father and what’s happening to him. It was so sudden. We never know what tomorrow may bring. I don’t want to see my son and daughter avoiding each other for the rest of my days.”

I closed my eyes. “Please, Mama, don’t …” Another bike engine roared from the street, and I jumped again. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s just Luke and Lindsey,” Mama said, before turning and walking into the kitchen.

A couple of seconds later, Lindsey entered through the front door. “Hi! What happened to your hand?”

I waved with the bandaged hand so she would see it was nothing. “A small cut.” She closed the door behind her. “Where’s Luke?”

“Oh, he’s forbidden to come here, so he dropped me off and is on his way to Sophie’s house.”

Great. Well, good that he was doing as I asked and staying away, but I felt bad for keeping him from the family. I was the one interrupting their routine. I was the outsider. And knowing this fact hurt more than I would ever admit. After all, leaving had been my choice.

Lindsey looped her arm through mine, a casual smile on her pretty face as if this Saturday was a regular Saturday in her life. “The smell is delicious. Let’s see what’s for lunch.”

***

Lunch was odd, to say the least. Everyone was careful with what he or she said or did. Especially Jason. I could see Mama dying to ask details of the bike show, but she didn’t. Because of me.

All of this shit, all the awkwardness, all of the stilled politeness was because of me, because they were afraid of what I would do.

Afterward, Mama served tea at the back porch table.

“It’s nice that you’ve been helping your mother with all the baking stuff,” Aunt Cadence said, adding sugar to her tea.

“Yes, but I’m not nearly as good as her.” I sat on the swing beside Lindsey. “And it’s not something I can say I enjoy doing.”

“Better than having nothing to do,” Lindsey said. “School has been out for only a couple of weeks, and I’m already bored. I am thinking about getting a job this summer. Part time, of course.”

Aunt Cadence raised her teacup to her daughter. “That is a great idea.”

“I’m thinking about getting a job too,” I said. “Anyone have someplace to recommend?”

“Architecture, right?” Uncle T. asked and I nodded. “A good friend of mine works at a civil engineering company. They always hire interns for the summer. Would that work for you?”

I sat straighter, interested. “Probably. It depends on the level of civil engineering. Buildings, bridges, skyscrapers?”

Uncle T. shook his head, snorting. “They are small and old-fashioned. Their main income is from subdivisions, apartments, stores, and small malls.” He scratched his mustache. “Do you know those programs used to draw the plans nowadays?”

I almost snorted. Software like Rhino and AutoCAD were a requirement in the first year of the architecture program. As everything else, architecture was moving alongside technology. “Yes.”

“They are always complaining about those,” Uncle T. said. “I’m gonna call him first thing Monday morning. As soon as I have an answer, I’ll let you know.”

I smiled. “Great.”

If my uncle got this gig for me, I wouldn’t be home sulking all the time, because, shit, I was tired of sulking.

Feeling a little less frustrated, I stood and took the empty teacups back inside. I put them inside the dishwasher, and Jason entered the kitchen carrying saucers and the cookie bowl.

My body tensed.

Careful with his gestures and his stares, he approached and handed me the saucers.

“Thanks,” I said, taking them from him. He leaned on the counter beside me and crossed his arms. I tried to ignore him while I put the saucers inside the dishwasher, but having a guy over six feet looming at my side, a guy who I was mad at, wasn’t something I could call comfortable. I turned to him. “What?”

“Jess, I know you hav—” He stopped talking when his cell phone beeped. He picked it up, and even I knew who the message was from when he glanced at the screen then back at me, his eyes concerned. “I gotta …” He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. I knew who it was. “Sorry.”

He walked into the living room, already pressing the phone to his ear.

Damn it.

I would never have peace here.