Текст книги "Dare You To"
Автор книги: Katie McGarry
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 25 страниц)
Ryan
BETH WALKS OUT of the shabby apartment
complex, Isaiah on her heels. The same mantra circles in my brain: I’m not losing Beth. I’m not giving up on us.
I could have approached her earlier, but I decided to respect Beth and stick to our
original plan: go shower and change at the pitching facility, then pick her up an hour later.
I modified one part of her request—I’m
picking her up where I last saw her. An hour ago, I watched as Beth followed Isaiah into this building with a grown woman passed out in his arms.
Giving Beth her space—knowing she was
with him and not me—was one of the hardest damn things I’ve ever done. But I’m going to keep Beth. Regardless of the words I say to her, she is my girl.
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Beth stops when she sees me leaning
against the passenger door of my Jeep. Her eyes widen and her face pales. “What are you doing here?”
“We have dinner plans.”
She blinks and Isaiah stiffens behind her. He may be looking for a fight, but I’m not. “Can we talk for a second, Beth?” I stare at Isaiah.
“Alone.”
“I go only if she tells me to go.” Isaiah has a cool demeanor, almost friendly, but all of it is forced.
“Isaiah,” says Beth. “I need to talk to him.”
From behind her, Isaiah places a hand on her shoulder, kisses the top of her head, and stares straight at me. Bile rises in my throat. The only thing keeping me from punching him is Beth’s expression. Her striking eyes become too large for her face. Good girl. I like that she didn’t expect a move like that from him.
Isaiah hops in an old Mustang and glares at me as he starts the engine. It turns over immediately with an angry rumble. He backs out and leaves the lot.
Beth kneads her fists against her eyes. A million questions float in my brain, but right HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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now I’m only interested in salvaging us.
“I’m sorry.”
She slowly lowers her hands. “For what?”
That this run-down shithole is her previous life. That she doesn’t trust me enough to let me help her with her problems. That I’ve been stupid enough to think she was nothing more than a spoiled brat who freeloaded off her uncle. For being the ass she told me I was weeks ago.
“Mark was my best friend,” I tell her.
“When he left, I felt like he took part of me with him. When my Dad threw him out, I
couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t stay and fight—if not for him, then for me.”
I’ve never told anyone that before. Not even Chris or Logan. Beth’s the first person to ever call me out on something so major—so
personal. I deserve whatever wrath will come next.
With a weighty sigh, Beth deflates to the crumbling parking curb. “I get it.” She looks small and lost again and my heart rips from my chest.
I sit on the curb and everything in my world becomes right when she rests her head on my HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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shoulder. Wrapping an arm around her, I
briefly close my eyes as she inches her warm body next to mine. This is where Beth
belongs—tucked in close to me.
“You were still an asshole to Mark,” she
says.
“Yeah.” The regret eats at my stomach. “But what do I do? It’s him or my dad. The two of them have drawn battle lines. I’m supposed to choose one or the other, but I need them both.”
Silence. A balmy breeze dances across the parking lot.
“She’s my mom,” Beth says with the same
heaviness I’d heard in Scott’s voice when he talked about Beth as a child. “In case you were wondering.”
“I was.” But I wasn’t ready to push her. My fingers lightly trace her arm and I swear she presses closer to me. I’d love to kiss her right now. Not the type of kiss that makes her body come alive. The type of kiss that shows her how much I care—the type that involves my soul.
Beth lifts her head and I drop my arm. She needs her space and I need to learn how to give it.
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“We suck at dating,” she says.
I chuckle. We do suck at it. Hoping for a perfect moment, I was going to wait until after dinner to give her what I’ve brought with me, but the one thing I’m learning with Beth is that perfection will never happen. I shove my hand into my pocket, pull out the thin satin strip of material, and dangle it in front of her. “This is my gift to you. This is my wow.”
Beth blinks once and her head slowly
inclines to the left as she stares at the ribbon.
How do guys do it? How do they give gifts to the girls they have feelings for and stay sane? I want her to be wowed so she’ll stay on
homecoming court, but more…I want this gift to prove that I know her and that I see beyond black hair and nose rings and cut-up jeans. I see her as she really is—I see Beth.
“You bought me a ribbon,” she whispers.
“How did you know?”
My mouth is dry. “I saw a picture of you
when you were young in Scott’s office and you talked about it…in the barn.”
Her words were hypnotic. “Ribbons,” she
said in a whimsical voice. “I still love
ribbons.”
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In a dawdling, methodical movement,
Beth holds out her wrist. “Put it on me.”
“I’m a guy. I don’t know how to put ribbons in a girl’s hair.”
Beth’s lips break into a smile that’s part wicked and part laughter. “Tie it on my wrist.
I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m not exactly the hair-ribbon kind of girl anymore.”
As I wrap the long strip of material around her wrist and do my best to tie an acceptable knot, I suck up the courage to ask, “Are you wowed?”
Her pause is debilitating. “Yes,” she says a little breathlessly. “I’m wowed.”
Beth offers me a rare gift: blue eyes so soft I’m reminded of the ocean, a smile so peaceful I think of heaven.
“Let’s go to dinner,” I say.
Beth’s expression grows too innocent. She bites her lower lip and my eyes narrow on those lips. I ache to taste them again. In the back of my mind, red flags rise, but I don’t care. I’d do anything to keep her looking at me like that forever.
“Actually,” she says, “I have another idea.”
TWO BLOCKS FROM THE STRIP MALL, we
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enter well-defined gang territory. I’ve heard rumors about the south side of the city, but never believed them. I thought they were urban legends created by girls at sleepovers. I’ve been on the main roads of this area a hundred times with my friends. I ate at the fast-food restaurants and shared sit-down meals with my parents. I never knew that behind the bright colors and manicured landscaping off the main strip sat tiny boxed houses and freeway
overpasses littered with graffiti.
On the front stoop, Isaiah laughs with two Latino guys, then nods to my Jeep parked on the street behind his Mustang. They stop
laughing. I agree. I’m not seeing an ounce of humor in this scenario. “This place is no good.”
“They’re my friends,” Beth says. “Scott
ripped me away and I never got a chance to say goodbye. You can stay in the car. Just give me twenty minutes, thirty tops. And then we’ll go out. I swear.”
No way in hell is she going in there alone. I register the threat level of the neighborhood and the guys on the porch. “I can’t protect you here.”
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“I’m not asking you to. You said you’d
wait—”
I cut her off. “When you said you wanted to stop by and say goodbye to some friends. That guy is wearing gang colors.”
She hits the back of her head against the seat. “Ryan. I’m probably never going to see any of them again. Will you please just let me say goodbye?”
Those words, never going to see again and goodbye, are the only reasons I’m saying this.
“Then I’m going in with you.”
“Fine.” She hops out and I follow. She can live under whatever delusion she wants, but she’s no safer here than I am and I’ll go down swinging before anyone hurts her. We reach the front stoop and I see that Isaiah has
disappeared. Is it too much to hope that he’s called it a night? The inside of the house is smaller than I expected, and I expected
cramped.
The kitchen and living room are really one room put together and separated by the angle of furniture. Teenagers sit everywhere—on the furniture, on the floor. Others lean against walls. A haze of smoke lingers in the room.
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Cigarette smoke. Other types of smoke.
I draw the stares of most everyone, but they continue their conversations. The guys size me up. The girls’ eyes wander to my chest. Some outright gawk lower. Beth entwines her hand with mine, then caresses her soft fingers against my cheek, enticing me to drop my head to hers.
“Stay close to me,” she whispers. “Don’t
talk and don’t stare. Things will be better in the backyard.”
For days, I’ve dreamed of Beth being this close to me again, but right now I can only focus on the multiple sets of eyes watching our every movement. Beth turns, holds tighter to my fingers, and leads me through the living room and out the back door of the kitchen.
Several strings of Christmas lights hang
between three trees scattered in the narrow yard. A patch of grass grows in the far corner.
The rest of it is a mix of weeds and dirt. In the middle of a ring of worn lawn chairs, Isaiah talks to Noah, a redheaded girl tucked close to Noah, and one of the Latino guys from the stoop.
Noah breaks from the group when he sees
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Beth. She releases me and falls into his
waiting arms. They whisper to one another. I don’t like how he holds on to her and don’t like how long he’s holding. That doesn’t look like brotherly love to me. I stare at his girl. Why is she so damned happy to see her guy hugging someone else?
When he lets her go, Noah extends his hand to me. “S’up.”
I take his hand and squeeze extra tight.
“Nothing. You?”
The moment I squeeze, Noah grins and
squeezes back. “Chill, bro. Beth says you’re good, so that makes us good.”
Beth hugs the Latino guy and laughs as he playfully talks in Spanish. “That’s Rico,” says Noah. “Relax. We’ve got your back.”
“It’s Beth I’m worried about. She shouldn’t be here.”
Noah loses the easygoing front. “No, she
shouldn’t.”
Beth glances over her shoulder and flashes me that joyous smile—the one I’ve only seen a handful of times.
“Is she wearing a ribbon?” Noah asks in
clear disbelief.
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Feeling proud, I answer, “I gave it to
her.”
“Fucking wonderful,” Noah mumbles as he
eyes Isaiah. “Don’t stay long.”
Noah returns to the group and pulls his girl onto a hammock strung along two posts in the ground. The hammock swings gently back and forth as they lie together. Propped up on an elbow, Noah focuses on her. “Echo, that’s Ryan. Ryan, this is my girl.”
Message received. Screw with his girl and he’ll screw with me. “Nice to meet you.”
Echo sits up, but Noah snakes an arm around her waist and drags her back down.
“Beth brought a guy who has manners,”
Echo teases him. “See, it’s not so hard.”
Noah pushes her hair over her shoulder, then runs a finger along her arm. “I’ve got manners, baby.”
“No.” She swats at his hand and laughs.
“You don’t.”
Disgust weaves through me as I register
what I’m seeing. Scars cover Echo’s arms. I rub a hand over my face. What the hell
happened to her? Noah continues to tease Echo and she continues to laugh, yet his tone as he HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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addresses me is a menacing threat. “Stare any longer, Ryan, and I’ll kick your ass.”
“Noah,” Echo reprimands. “Don’t.”
Beth returns to me. “What did I say about staring?”
“I apologize,” I say directly to Echo.
Echo smiles. “See? Manners.”
“Come on,” says Beth. “Let’s get you a beer before you give them a good reason to kick your ass.”
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Beth
I MISS LAUGHING.
Most days I can find something amusing to make my lips flinch up. Sometimes it will be funny enough to make me chuckle. But I miss laughing. Really laughing. Laughing to the point that my insides hurt, my chest aches, my face is exhausted from holding the smile.
For effect, Rico stands in the middle of the circle of lawn chairs and in slow motion
reenacts how Isaiah and I kept him from being busted for underage drinking this summer by distracting a pair of cops with a very bad mime routine.
“I’m hiding in the bushes and if the police step back, they’d be on top of me. Beth’s just standing there,” Rico chokes out between
laughs. “Her arm stiff at the shoulder and her forearm dangling back and forth like a
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pendulum. The cop asked if she needed
medical help. He thought she was having a seizure.”
Everyone, including me, bursts into laugher.
Rico composes himself to spit out the rest.
“And she breaks her self-imposed silence and says, ‘I’m a mime, you moron. Why do you
think I’ve been doing all these retarded
moves?’”
Everyone laughs harder and as our group
gasps for air Rico glances at Ryan. “Incluso el nino blanco se esta riendo.”
I’m not fluent in Spanish, but I know enough to pick out the words white boy and laughter.
My heart shivers when I catch Ryan at the tail end of a chuckle. He’s always cute, but he’s breathtaking when he laughs.
Rico lifts his beer to his lips, then tosses it across the yard. “I’m out.”
Isaiah tips the cooler. “We’re all out, man.”
“Isaiah, help me snag some of Antonio’s
stash, then we’ll hit the mota.”
Mota. Weed. The layer between my skin and muscles itches. I want a hit. More like I crave a hit—the smell surrounding me, the smoke
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floating. Oh God, I want more than
anything to float.
Isaiah stands and Rico kicks my foot as he passes. “You’re in, right, Beth?”
It kills me to shake my head. “Curfew.”
I peek at Ryan. Does he know what mota is?
The smile falls from my lips as I flip through the stories we’ve told. Oh crap, I feel sick. The drinking. The drugs. The parties. He heard it all. My stomach sways. He knows what I am.
“Beth,” says Isaiah. He waits until I look at him. “The stuff is mild. You’ll be sober by curfew.”
“Isaiah,” Noah warns.
Isaiah would never steer me wrong. If he
says I’ll be sober in an hour, then I will be. He knows how much I long for weightlessness. A loud crashing noise comes from the house. I know these people. Ryan doesn’t. I can’t leave him defenseless. “No, I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.” Rico heads into the house.
Isaiah stares at me and I don’t understand the gleam in his eye. Abruptly, he follows Rico.
In the hammock, Noah begins to kiss Echo.
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be gone ten minutes. The night has been
fun, but it’s also made me the rope in a strange invisible tug-of-war. Ryan sat on one side of me. Isaiah the other. It felt weird to be next to both my best friend and the guy I really like.
Why can’t Isaiah see that we’re just friends?
Friends only. I need to talk to him before I leave. I need to straighten this whole mess out.
Honestly, I just need to hear him say that he didn’t mean it and that he’s still my best friend.
Ryan stands, stretches, and walks over to the tree on the opposite side of the yard. I glance over my shoulder at the house. I’ve been
careful not to rub Ryan in Isaiah’s face, but I need to make sure Ryan’s okay too. Yeah,
Isaiah will be gone for a while. Rico’s a slow tripper.
I follow after Ryan. “You don’t have to
move for Noah and Echo’s sake.”
Hundreds of Christmas lights hang from the tree. His sun-kissed skin is beautiful under their glow. “I didn’t move because of them.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Then why did you?”
Ryan inclines his head and his eyes roam my body as if savoring the sight. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.”
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Warmth blazes on my cheeks and I break
eye contact. Ryan reaches out and touches me.
His fingers linger on my neckline and the whisper of his caress on my skin heats my blood.
“You should laugh more,” he says.
I swallow. “Life hasn’t given me much to
laugh about.”
“I could change that.” Ryan invades my
personal space and every part of him connects with a part of me.
I inhale and smell the delicious scent of earth after the rain. “You smell good,” I say.
His hand glides along the curve of my spine and into my hair. Chills energize my body. “So do you. You always smell like roses.”
I giggle at the thought of me smelling sweet and bite my lip to stop the girlish reaction. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”
Ryan’s lips form that glorious smile with dimples and my blood tingles straight to my toes. This smile is for me and me alone.
“There are lots of things I want to say to you, Beth, and I want to be the first to say them to you.”
Intense hunger glazes his eyes. I’ve seen the HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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same look on other guys, but on Ryan it’s different. That stare has more depth—more meaning—as if he’s seeing inside me.
“I want to kiss you,” he murmurs. “Do you want to kiss me?”
My heart beats faster. Oh, Ryan can kiss.
I’ve stayed awake at night and replayed his lips against mine. His kisses are strong like him, possessive and demanding. Ryan said beautiful things to me in the barn and he touched me in ways I only dreamed someone could touch me.
My fingers burrow into his thick hair. “Yes.”
Ryan lowers his head and I close my eyes.
The anticipation of this moment creates an energy that sizzles in the autumn air. I’m going to do it. I’m going to kiss Ryan—sober.
“Fuck, Beth.” From behind me, Isaiah spits out the words.
I whirl around and barely catch sight of him bolting out the back gate into the alley. Noah falls out of the hammock and heads after him. I need to go after Isaiah, not Noah. I take several steps, but laughter from the house stops me. I can’t leave Ryan. “Noah!”
“Go home, Beth,” he says as he strides
toward the alley. “Back to Groveton and don’t HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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come back.”
That’s the deal we made. When we hugged
and apologized to each other, Noah promised to let me stay and enjoy my evening if, when it was over, I left and never looked back. It wasn’t a hard promise to make. In a few
weeks, I’ll be gone for good. “I can’t leave knowing he’s upset.” Because after tonight, I may never see him again.
“Just go,” says Noah.
“No!” I grab Noah and fling myself in front of him. “He’s mad at me. I know he gets upset when I make out with guys, but Ryan isn’t some random guy. I have to explain that to him.” I have to explain to Isaiah that he is not in love with me. “But I can’t go after Isaiah and leave Ryan here. You know what will
happen if some of Rico’s friends see Ryan without you or me.”
Noah rubs his eyes. Yes, he does know. Ryan isn’t a part of our circle and is fair game for a good beating. Noah gestures for me to go after Isaiah. “Fifteen minutes, Beth. I mean it. You need to go back to Groveton and finish out your life there.”
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with his hands shoved into his pockets.
Hurt wounds the brown eyes that glowed with promise moments before.
“Ryan,” I stutter out. “He’s my best friend and he’s upset and…”
“Go after him.” Ryan crosses his arms over his chest. “But don’t string me along if it’s him you want.”
“What?” I shake my head. Ryan
misunderstands. “Isaiah and I…we’re not like that.”
But I’m not going to waste time standing
here arguing with Ryan over stupid jealousy issues when my best friend is upset. I push past Noah and run into the alley. A few steps into the darkness, strong hands grab my arms.
I suck in air to scream and I’m silenced by a familiar deep voice. “You’ve changed.” As if to prove his point, Isaiah shoves my wrist in front of my face and shows me Ryan’s pink ribbon.
“So have you. The Isaiah I knew would have run away with me and Mom when I asked. You left my mom with Trent and he broke her
wrist! It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.
You used to take care of me!” My pulse thuds HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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in my ears as I shove away from Isaiah.
The streetlamp attached to an aging utility pole flickers on and off. With each flash of light, a mix of anger and sadness crosses Isaiah’s face. “You used to let me take care of you. Now you’ve got some asshole jock doing your bidding.”
White-hot anger flashes through me. “Leave Ryan out of this. You’re the one PMS-ing like a girl. First you want to run away with me.
Then you don’t want anything to do with me.
Then you want to run away with me after
graduation. Then you keep telling me to live my life in Groveton. Then you go and tell me that you love me when we both know you
don’t.”
My heart jumps out of my chest when he
punches his curled fists into the chain link fence behind him. The metal of the fence
vibrates. “Dammit, Beth.”
Isaiah clutches the fence and he bends over as if he’s ready to vomit. Not once in four years have I seen him this emotional. My
hands shake with adrenaline. “I don’t
understand.”
Isaiah swears softly under his breath. “I am HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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in love with you.”
Ice freezes my muscles. He said it—again.
“No, you aren’t.”
Isaiah spins and cups my face with his
hands. I don’t feel warmth. I only feel cold.
Cold and confused. He lowers his head so that his face is close to mine. “I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen. I wasn’t man enough to tell you, so Luke swooped in. You were so hurt after he used you that I swore to protect you until you could listen to what I had to say. I’m in love with you.”
My lungs tighten. God, I can’t breathe. Help me breathe. “You’re my best friend.”
“And you’re mine. I want more from you
and I’m begging you to please give me more.”
My throat becomes raw and slowly swells.
“But you’re my best friend.”
His fingers gently move against my cheek.
“You want to leave, I’ll go. I’ll take you now.
We’ll get in my car, find your mom, and we’ll never look back. Your terms. Not mine.
Whatever you want. Whatever you need. Just say the words. Please say them.”
I love him.
Those words. My hand presses against his
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chest. His heart continues in the same
steady beat I’ve come to depend upon. Isaiah is my rock. The string that holds me together when I’m ready to fall apart. He’s the anchor that keeps me from floating away when I go too far. His heart has been the one constant rhythm in my life and I don’t want to let it go.
“I love you.”
Isaiah tucks his chin toward his chest and I force air into my lungs when he clears his throat. “You’ve got to mean it.”
I try to physically shake the tears forming, but his hold on my face makes it impossible.
We haven’t talked for weeks, but I knew, in the deep recesses of my mind, that our separation was temporary. This somehow feels too real and that means this goodbye could be concrete.
I can’t lose him. I can’t. “I mean it. I love you.”
Like a friend. Like my best friend. Before Groveton, I never understood love and now…I still don’t understand it. But I know that it’s not emptiness, I know it’s not letting a guy use me, I know there are different types and what I feel for Isaiah…it’s not how I feel when I’m with Ryan.
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Isaiah rests his forehead on mine. “Like
you love him. Tell me you love me as much as you love him.”
Ryan. Am I in love with him? The thought
causes panic. Just the sound of his name causes my heart to trip over itself. I love the way Ryan makes me feel. I love his words. I love his hands on my body. I love the way his gaze causes me to blush.
But I have to leave Ryan soon in order to protect my mom. If I say the right words, Isaiah will go with me. “Isaiah, I…”
Once upon a time, I wondered if I was
falling in love with Isaiah. Echo had hugged him and he happily hugged her back. The pain and jealousy that shot through my body
surprised even me. But I wasn’t falling for him. I was scared of Echo. Scared of the
changes she was bringing to our lives. Changes that would have happened even if she had
never existed.
I stare into his gray eyes. Isaiah’s wrong; he doesn’t love me. Not in the way he thinks. The truth is there—in his eyes. He doesn’t look at me the way Noah does Echo or how Chris does Lacy. He doesn’t look at me the way Ryan
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does.…
“I love you…”
I love Isaiah’s safety and I love his calm. I love his voice and his laughter. I love his constant, steady presence. But if the world were coming to an end, he’s not the person I’d want at my side. I love him. I love him so much that I know he deserves to have a girl who falls apart at his touch. He deserves to have a girl whose heart stops working every time he glances at her. He deserves someone who is “in” love with him.
“…as a friend. The same way that you love me.”
Isaiah shakes his head, as if doing that will make my words less true. “You’re wrong.”
He presses his lips against my forehead. My lower lip trembles as I ball the material of his shirt into my hand. I’m losing him. I’m losing my best friend.
“I’m not,” I say. “And someday you’re
going to figure it out.”
“If you change your mind…” There’s a
heaviness in his voice, and a part of me dies at the thought of him in so much pain. He touches his lips to my forehead once more, the caress HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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lasting longer, the pressure more intense.
Isaiah walks away from me and fades into the darkness.
“I won’t,” I whisper as I close my eyes and wish that one day, he’ll change his.
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