Текст книги "Slow Twitch"
Автор книги: Лиз Реинхардт
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 22 страниц)
“If you know that, why all this stupid drama?” I put a hand on his shoulder, and he tilted his head up to look me in the eyes before he let out a completely exhausted sigh.
“Because they have a strong pull over me already. Even though I hate their fucking guts. And accepting a gift from them…especially a gift like the bike, that they know is all tied to something I give a shit about, it’s just opening a whole goddamn Pandora’s box.” He slapped the tools against his palm with a rhythmic series of thuds.
I opened my mouth to keep debating, because it was scary when the bike gave out in midair and we were falling. It would have been scarier if Jake had been in a race, going faster, jumping higher, being just reckless enough to win. But I got that this wasn’t the argument Jake was arguing, and I wasn’t going to change his mind. So I figured I would just be on his side.
“Okay.” I slid my hand in his and started the trek back to his bike.
“Just ‘okay’? Seriously, that’s the end of your whole speech?” Jake pulled me closer, his eyebrows knotted in confusion, his mouth twisted half in laughter and half in disbelief.
“I’m learning.” I put a hand up and stroked his stubbly cheek. “You’re not going to back down and agree. And you have a point. A really stupid, pride-based point that will probably get you maimed, but I can’t really argue against it. I kind of, sort of get it.”
“You’re kind of, sort of the sexiest girlfriend ever.” Jake’s mouth dipped down onto mine, and the sweet smell of his mint-laced mouth collided with the fresh, cool night air and made an impossibly delicious combination. I moaned against him and he lifted me slightly under my butt, pulling my body close against his.
My hands grabbed him around the neck and pulled his head down, and I suddenly couldn’t kiss him fast enough. He smelled so good, the endorphins from our ride were still popping through me, and I felt like he and I were two stars in the same constellation, linked but independent, together in the deep, inky blue sky.
He pulled me back onto the crinkly carpet of leaves. A rock poked the back of my leg, and his tools jabbed under my elbow, but I didn’t care. I loved the weight of Jake on me, and I ran my hands up and down his back, greedy for the feel of him.
“I love you.” He ran a hand over my face, pushing my hair back. “I know it’s a lot for you to hear sometimes, but having you in my life has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I’m a Kelly ship lifer,” I promised, tracing a finger over his lips. “I love you, too, so much. I know this summer has been crazy–”
“Definitely crazy. But kind of fun, too,” he interrupted.
“Yes. Crazy and fun. Stop interrupting,” I continued and popped a kiss on his mouth before he could interrupt again. “And I’m glad we talked and got things out there, because I want to be honest with you.”
“Me too.” He bent his head down and kissed my neck.
“This winter was hard, you know? I always wanted to be with you, but I didn’t know how to do that and be myself. And I know, sometimes, I don’t just let you do your thing, either. Like, this whole bike thing. I worry about you, so of course I want you to do what will keep you safe. But I’m trying to see it from your perspective and trust you.” I folded him in my arms and crushed him tight. “But I worry your bike will stop and you’ll break your legs or…stop laughing! Jake, what the hell could be funny about that?”
I yanked away from him and stared while he clutched his stomach and rocked back and forth. “It’s not funny. It’s not. I’m sorry. I’m stopping.” A new wave of laughter took hold of him. “I just keep picturing myself with two leg casts, hobbling around after you at school.”
“You’re an idiot. Seriously, you’re deranged. Stop it! That could happen, you jerk!” Watching him laugh while I kept a straight face was hard, because his laugh was disturbingly infectious. “I’m not nursing you back to health if it happens!”
“You’re so damn mean.” He hugged me hard, then leaned over. “C’mon. I’ll give you a piggyback ride to make up for my stupidity.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I do love piggyback rides. But do you really think it’s that easy to be forgiven?”
He waved me over. “I guess we won’t know til we try. C’mon.”
I climbed on his back and he hooked his elbows behind my knees while I held onto his shoulders. We tramped through the woods.
“You’re feeling better already, aren’t you?” He bounced me up and down with his arms. I tugged on his hair. “Look, there’s no need to be embarrassed. You aren’t the first girl who got all caught up in my bulging muscles.”
I pretended to choke him, then kissed his ears. “Ass.”
“Girlfriend of an ass.” When we got to the clearing, he put me down, and I laid flat on the grass, suddenly having a hard time keeping my eyes open. “You falling asleep?” His voice was gentle and sweet in my ears.
“Maybe,” I murmured. “I gotta go home. Mom will be so pissed. I can’t sleep here anyway. Spiders might crawl in my mouth…and I’ll eat them. By accident.” The world was swaying and contracting, and the last thing I remember was Jake saying, “I’ll protect the spiders from your enormous appetite. I promise.”
By the time Jake shook me awake, I was clammy and cold. The sky was still dark, but it was more a deep blue than black, and the gray light of dawn broke through the trees at the horizon.
“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.” Jake picked leaves and sticks and probably spiders out of my hair with nimble fingers.
“Did you get the bike fixed?” I asked around a yawn.
“Barely. Good enough to ride it back home, though.” He yanked me up by the hand and gave me a long, slow kiss. “Let’s get a move on, girlie, before you turn into a pumpkin.”
I climbed on the back of his bike. “You wouldn’t love me if I was a pumpkin?” I snapped the strap to my helmet tight under my chin.
“Love you? I’d be that little guy who lived in the pumpkin. What was his name? Weren’t they all named Jack?” He turned and looked over his shoulder, his smile crisscrossed with early morning light and shadows.
“He was Peter.” I squeezed Jake around his waist and he roared through the clearing.
My breath hung hard in the back of my throat as we kicked up dry leaves and exploded through small branches and prickly brambles. The mud-flecked sleeves of my sweatshirt got caught on and pulled by every sharp protrusion of bark or thorn we crashed against, but I didn’t care. Once I had the smallest drop of a taste for speed on my tongue, my mouth watered for it. I counted down in my head how long it would be until I got my license and how often I could meet with Jake. I wondered if I might want to trade my track shoes for racing boots.
I did love any excuse to buy new boots.
Jake cut the engine and thwarted my thoughts of new boots and speed obsession and reached out his hand to take mine.
“Can I walk you home?”
I took his hand and netted my fingers between his. The early morning air was just a little foggy and the sky was getting a shade brighter every single second, turning from dark purple to the palest lavender.
“Thank you for tonight. It was amazing.” I bumped into him, and he smiled at me.
“You learn your lesson?” he asked.
“Now you’re just pushing your luck.” I squeezed his hand hard. “What lesson did you think I needed?”
“To trust me. To trust that I don’t do bonehead things for no reason. That if I’m going to take a stand, it’s because something is important.” His jaw went tight. “I trust you, Bren.”
“I know that.” Thoughts of the winter, our breakup, Saxon all ebbed in my brain. “I know, and I’m really happy you do. But we’re talking about you breaking your neck, okay? I can’t just stand by and watch you get hurt without saying what I have to say.” I drew him closer until our pant legs brushed when we walked. “So don’t go lecturing me.”
“Man, you’re a pain in the ass sometimes,” Jake sighed. I slapped his arm, and he looked over with a grin. “You got bit by the racing bug didn’t you?”
“Maybe a little.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and yawned. “I think I might be a little freaked out to ride alone.”
“That’s normal.” Jake’s voice was sweet and encouraging, the way it always was with me. “Remember, I’ve been at this since I was four years old. You did amazing for your first time.”
“All I did was cling to you for dear life.” I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he threw an arm around me.
“Trust me, there’re even crap backseat riders. You’re a natural. I can tell.” He pulled me close and laid kisses all over the top of my head.
“What if I got so good, I started beating you?” I turned my face up, and he kissed the tip of my nose.
“If you beat me fair and square, I’d take silver like a man. But I expect you to kickback a percentage to your trainer.” He winked, and I tickled his ribs, then we ran back to my house, panting with exhaustion by the time we got there. He slid against the outside and closed his eyes for a few seconds too long. I patted his cheek and he opened one eye sleepily.
“Go home. It’s…early. You’re beat. Be careful.” I kissed him, soft and light as dandelion fluff floating on the summer wind.
He picked me up around the waist and let the kiss seep in and take root. “Thank you for last night. And you tell Evan I said ‘thank you.’ I like that friend of yours.” He nuzzled my neck. “I love you so much, babe.”
“I love you.” I stood with my back to the wall until Jake’s body was swallowed into the woods.
Evan’s voice drifted down from above me. “‘It is the lark that sings so out of tune, straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.’”
I reached a hand up, and she helped hoist me in. We fell into a heap on the floor and giggled until our sides ached. “He wants me to thank you.” I swooped my arms around her neck and pulled her onto the bed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…”
Her laugh came out through her teeth, like the sound of waves on the beach. “Cut that all out, or I’ll recite Shakespeare to you all day long.”
“You’re dreamy. It was such a cool date.” I pulled a long, thick piece of her hair out and braided it loosely. “It felt so good. I didn’t expect it. Jake and I always have fun, but this was like another level.”
She turned to look at me, her plush lips parted in surprise. “Well, of course. That boy is searching for a reason to shine for you. So let him shine.”
“He does. He shines just by being who he is.” I undid the brain and ran my fingers through Evan’s hair.
That day sped by in a bleary run, and the next few days tossed and jumbled so fast, it was like dipping your hand into a stream of cool water on a hot day. By the time you reached your palm to your lips, all that cool water had gone warm and nearly disappeared. Before I knew it, it was my last day with Evan. She was getting ready to leave, and I was in an uncharacteristically mopey mood.
“Sweets, we beat this week to death.” She ticked off our adventures on her fingers. “We went to the city with your Mom. She took us to that fantastic steak place. We had all that cheesecake.” She rolled another dress and threw it sloppily into her bag. “Then we did that whole museum day, and Fa was so damn cute and gentlemanly. The drive-in with Jake. The diner run with Devon. Going on that godawful hike with Kelsie. I love that girl, but who hikes for fun?”
I took the dress back out of her bag and folded it, then rolled it neatly. “I know. She’s super sweet, but nuts. And I loved everything too. But you justgot here. Can’t you spend another week?” I wrinkled my brow, pouted my lips, blinked my eyes. “Jake would be so excited to have you at his race. Please?”
“You know I would. Stop making that pathetic face at me! But school starts early in Georgia, darling. ‘Cause of all the heat.” She tossed a lacy pink bra back and forth in her hands absently. “Well, I think it does for me, anyway.”
“You haven’t asked your father about school yet?” I pressed my lips together as I tucked her beaded flats, soles aligned, into the corner of her bag. “Evan? Evan, look at me. You need to know for sure where you’re starting school. Ask him.”
She shook her head and threw a bunch of earrings in on top of this perfect silk top.
I plucked all the hole-making earrings up and asked, “Why not?”
“Because I’m afraid of what he’ll say.” Her voice stretched and grated against the tears she was trying to hold back.
“But you’ve gone to the same school since kindergarten. I know your parents are going through a tough time, but they’ll get that you need to be there, with your friends. Right?” I slid her earrings into a baggie and ran my fingers down her arm. “Right?”
“It’s a really exclusive school. They won’t hold a place for me. And I was on academic probation last quarter. The house is gone, and Gramma isn’t close enough to count as in-district. Plus, she wants me to go to her alma mater, so I’ll probably start there in a few days.” When she punched down at more clothes in her bag, I didn’t even make a move to stop her.
The ringing phone broke our silent reverie. “Hello?”
“Hey, Bren.” It was Devon, and he sounded distracted. “I was wondering if you got anything in the mail from Dublin? Did Evan? Is she still around?”
“She is.” Evan shrugged at me and I held up one finger and made my way to the kitchen. “Did you get it today?” There was a little pile of mail on the table. I sifted through it, and there was a large airmail envelope postmarked Dublin. “I got something.”
“Open it and read.” Devon’s voice was tight.
“‘ Dear Ms. Blixen, The paper you wrote for the Language and Literature of the British Isles Seminar this summer was beyond well done; it was remarkable. Your work was selected for publication in the collection Wisdom From the Mouths of Youths . You and two guests of your choice are invited to a reading of selections at Vorhees Hall, Rutgers University, New Brunswick August 20 th , 12 PM. Congratulations on a job well done. Sincerely, Dr. Gorman, PhD.’Holy shit! Devon, holy shit!”
“I know. I knew you’d get it, too. It was that night, that crazy night and the revisions after Evan said our essays were crap. What did we write? What did you write?” he demanded.
And I felt like the blood was draining out of my body. “Oh shit.”
“Brenna? What did you write? Because I’m freaking the hell out! I wrote about being gay! I deleted the damn essay about the birds and the ocean. What the fuck was I thinking? My mother already saw the letter. What the hell am I going to do?” His voice was cagey with panic.
“You didn’t come out to your parents yet?” I couldn’t stop looking at the letters on the paper in front of me, leapfrogging and cart-wheeling around in dizzying circles.
“No! I guess I can tell them it’s fiction. Oh my God, I don’t even remember what the hell I wrote! Goddamn Evan and her fucking crazy Araby!” He took a deep breath. “Are you still on the line?”
I forced the words out of my mouth. “I wrote…I wrote about Jake and Saxon. I wrote about how it’s possible to love more than one person. How I expect to love so many people in my life. Oh no. Oh God.” A queasy lurch of my stomach made a wash of acid hit right in the back of my throat. “Oh shit. This is really not good. This is really, reallyshitty timing. Jake is…this is notgood. He won’t understand that I didn’t mean I don’t love him. It was just art.It was just poetry! This is not good.” I wandered around the kitchen quietly, flapping the paper in my hands like it was on fire and needed to be put out. Though it did occur to me that if the paper was on fire, I’d just be fanning the flames.
“It doesn’t mean that we all have toread, right? It doesn’t mean that every person will be asked to read the entire paper? Brenna, answer me! Am I right?” Devon’s old, panicked self cracked out and bubbled to the surface.
“I don’t know,” I muttered, my eyes flicking over the words again and again without managing to read anything. “I really don’t know! Maybe they’ll send more information. Maybe they told certain people that they’re reading. I’ll ask Evan and see if she knows anything about it. Maybe it’s by district? Maybe she got more info?”
“Right. Good. That all makes sense.” Devon’s voice slowed as he calmed down.
“But I bet we all get a copy of the book or pamphlet or whatever it is,” I chattered nervously.
Why had we written such honest, gut-wrenching final papers?
Why hadn’t I kept mine about true academic integrity?
What was wrongwith me?
“Oh fucking shit,” he muttered.
I giggled a little.
“What could you possibly find funny at a time like this?” he practically screamed.
“You never swear like you’ve been doing today.” I giggled harder. “It’s kind of cute, your little attempt at being bad-ass.”
Soon we were both laughing with sheer, gut-wrenching nerves. When I finally caught a breath, I got off with Devon and went to cry on Evan’s shoulder.
“Who was that on the phone?” she asked, bopping her hips in time to a song blaring through my speakers.
“Um, Evan? Did you get a letter from Dublin?” My question crept out, afraid to hear the answers I was fairly sure I’d hear.
“Just before I left. Some anthology or something? There was a reading in Savannah I was invited to.” She put a hand to her forehead and gave a long, theatrical sigh. “I guess they decided my essay on shedding the shackles of sexual shame was just risky enough without edging over into obscenity. I’m really good at riding that line.” She pointed to the piece of paper shaking in my hand. “And you got your letter, Ms. Brilliant?”
“Yes,” I choked out, biting my knuckle to keep from screaming with tangled frustration. “Devon too.”
“Not the fucking bird paper,” she gasped and shook her head slowly, her eyes bright with disdain. “I refuse to have my essay in a collection with that twaddle.”
“He changed it. He wrote about being gay. And I changed mine. Evan, I changed it from academic integrity!” I made my bed with irritated jerks of the sheets and duvet, just to keep my trembling hands busy.
She plopped down on my desk chair and her laugh twisted past my aggravation. “I knew Devon had guts under all that stick-in-the-mudness. And you wrote about boys, didn’t you? And love? Jesus, you are such a romantic girl!”
“Well now I’m fucking screwed! Jake is going to see the paper, and he’s already been freaking out about Saxon, and we just had this whole talk about honesty and how we trust each other now, and I’m going to dump thison him? What am I going to do? Evan, tell me,” I pleaded, shaking the letter in my hand like I could shake the answer out of it.
“Calm down, Brenna. Deep breaths.” She put her hands on my shoulders, and her voice went low and soothing. “Look, Jake is going to understand. Remember his halo? I swear to you, he’ll get it eventually, even if he freaks at first, alright? And it will be all good in the end. It will be. Just show him, don’t hide anything. And believe in your words, okay? You’re brilliant, girl! Seriously, that brain is big and beautiful. Trust it. He’ll understand.” Her voice crooned me into something like a numb calm.
My brain was so choked up with all of those thoughts, I didn’t even put together that Jake was coming to say goodbye to Evan. I didn’t even hear his truck pull up while I was pacing the room. All of a sudden I turned around and hit into his warm body. “Jake!”
“Were you expecting someone else?” His smile started with his lips closed, the corners slightly upturned, but it grew fast, and soon I could see his crooked tooth and the pure happiness that covered his face for me, all me. I tucked that smile in my memory in case I’d need it later.
“No.” I wrapped my arms around the strong, solid, good-smelling realness of him. “Not at all. I lost track of time. And I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“Yeah. You guys should start locking your doors. Hey, Evan.” Jake gave her an awkward hug, and she kissed his cheek and left a little smear of red lipstick.
“Oh, you know what? I have to…make a phone call to Gramma, but she can’t hear a thing. I’ll go on the back deck so my yelling doesn’t bother you.” She squeezed my hand hard and waltzed by. Jake watched me watch her leave.
“I know you’re sad about Evan heading home.” Jake rounded his hands under my elbows. “You look like you’re going to cry, Bren. She’ll come back. Don’t be so upset.” He took me into his arms and rocked me back and forth, making me feel better like the cool, understanding person he was.
And I wished my bedroom floor would open and deliver me into the bowels of hell. At least for a little while. Because I deserved a good roasting.
But the stupid essay was looming, bearing down on what was an otherwise excellent moment. I tried to push it out of my mind, to focus instead on Jake’s comforting arms and words, but it was there and completely obstinate.
“Jake, I’m not just upset about Evan. I think I fucked something up.”
He looked at me, a little expectant and pretty nervous. I opened my mouth once, then again, wanting to tell him, but not knowing how.
“I wrote something in my class this summer,” I began. He nodded his encouragement. “And I guess it was pretty good, like well-written good. They sent me a letter saying it was going to be included in this published collection and some of us were going to get to present them at a little ceremony. But I don’t know if I’m one of the ones who’ll be presenting or anything.” I was rambling a little. Jake looked confused.
I didn’t want to get to the point.
“That’s awesome, Bren.” He was definitely pressing his encouragement ahead of his nervousness. “I’m really proud of you. Are they, like, giving you a scholarship to go somewhere? Are you going back to Ireland?” He was taking a stab at figuring this all out.
“Um, no.” I swallowed. Cleared my throat. Stalled. “The thing is, we had to write about our lives and what was happening in them, and we were supposed to focus on what we were really passionate about.”
“That makes sense.” Jake smiled at me. No! Not that trusting smile that I was about to kill! I felt my guts clench hard. “Did you write about Mom? Or school?”
“No, I didn’t.” As awful as it was watching him fumble, I somehow couldn’t just put him out of his misery and spit it out.
“Why are you upset about it?” he asked after a few seconds; his eyes were on me, gray and clear and seeing what I was too chicken to just tell him. “What’s the big deal?” His face clouded a little, and I had a pretty good idea he guessed why I was being quiet about it. “Did you write about Saxon?”
“Yes,” I gasped, relieved to have been outed, finally. Jake sat up straight. Every muscle in his whole body looked stiff and angry. “I did write about Saxon, but I also wrote about you. Of course! Trust me, Jake. It was about how complicated things are. Or were! And it was kind of art, you know? So it might be a little more dramatic than real life. And I just want you to see it for yourself, so you don’t get…the wrong idea. I guess.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Okay,” he bit off. His mouth worked a little, like he was chewing on more that he wanted to say, but didn’t.
“You should read it,” I offered.
He shrugged, his face tense, and his voice slid out with the slow, hypothermic cold of a glacier. “If you want.”
“I do.” I prattled a little, my nerves unhinging my tongue. “I know we’re at this good point with trust and all that, and I want you know, I would never hide this. Evan said you’d understand. It’s probably going to sound sort of melodramatic, but remember that’s for class. And I was supposed to be artistic. I mean, the point is to make it sound dramatic, so sometimes I might have gone a little bit overboard. Please don’t be upset about it.”
Jake said nothing.
I opened my laptop in the weird, uncomfortable, never-before-registered silence of the room. Jake watched as I searched for the file, opened it, and printed it. I took my time evening the pages and putting a staple in one corner. Various words jumped off the pages. Some made me calmer, and some made my mouth go dry. “Maybe you should go. Maybe you should read it and then decide…whatever you decide.”
“What does it say?” His hands shook a little and his eyes jumped all over, not really following the lines.
I knew the words were swimming on the page in front of him. Jake had severe dyslexia and reading was completely taxing for him. He got through with books on tape, and sometimes I even read the books myself and recorded them for him; not this.
It was my own.
I cringed just imagining what it would be like to read it to him.
He’d have to do this one on his own.
“I can’t really explain.” I stopped and tried to explain, but all I could come up with was that most pathetic excuse of an explanation. “It’s complicated.”
He groaned. “Don’t say that word. Please don’t.”
“Why not?” I reached for his hand, but he flinched slightly, and I backed off. “That’s the word that fits.”
“It’s like a code word.” He scanned the paper absently. “It means that you said things that are probably going to break my fucking heart.”
I bit my lip and shook my head, not sure what to say, or if, maybe, I should just shut up and not say anything. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jake. I wrote what I felt. And I can tell you right now that I love you so much. I loveyou. What I feel for you is way beyond what I feel for Saxon.”
“But you do feel something for Saxon?” His jaw went hard and stiff.
“Of course,” I answered, my word choked. “You know that. It doesn’t mean I feel the same kind of thing for him that I feel for you.”
He shook his head, the paper in his hands. I really, really didn’t think he was going to leave. He’d never stood me up for a date before. Hanging out together was always so important to both of us.
“I better go read this.” He got up stiffly and held the paper in his hands.
“It’s not…I don’t think it’s going to be as crazy as you think.” I tried desperately to smooth it out before he left. “It’s just…I mean it’s not…bad. Or I don’t think it will be bad when you read it all. And it was about it all, so lots of it is about things in the past. Done. Over with.” I put my hands over my face. I was at such a loss for words, I didn’t know what to do.
He leaned in and gave me a chaste kiss on the mouth. “I’ll call you, okay?”
It didn’t seem real. I had been looking forward to spending the day with him way more than I realized. I wished I had never answered the phone when Devon called this morning. I wished I had just kept my mouth shut.
But if he was pissed just based on the vague idea of something I wrote, he had to see the whole thing, and I was going to have to deal with what came next. I was a little nervous about what he would think of it, but it was better to have shown him.
Wasn’t it?
I heard him say good-bye to Evan. I strained my ears to hear what they talked about, but it was all murmurs. When Evan walked in, her mouth was set in a tight, straight line.
“I fucked up again, right?” My voice was clogged with tears.
Evan grabbed my hand and kissed it. “It’s only because he worries that you’re not going to wind up with him, Bren.”
“I promised I wouldn’t make him feel that again. And then I go and do this kind of stupid shit.” I shook my head. “I felt to smart and awesome when I was writing it.”
“Can I see?” she asked. I pointed to the laptop where it was still up, and Evan sat and read. Her eyes went wide and she smiled. When she finally looked up at me, she didn’t look like she was facing the world’s worst girlfriend. “It’s gorgeous, sweetie. And honest. And true. Jake may not like it, but he loves you, and he’s going to realize that that essay is all you, right to the last period. It will all be fine.”
I lay down on the bed and let Evan spoon me, and we told funny jokes, talked about what her first day at her probable new school might be like, listened to music, and laughed to pass the time until she had to leave to get on her plane, where she would go home to her wreck of a life while I tried to clean up the mess I’d made.
Chapter Eleven
Saxon
So maybe I was having a little too much fun playing the hero. Don’t hate me because I’m smart as hell.
Or at least partially smart as hell.
Because I had pretty much become an honorary member of the Erikson family. Everyone loved me.
Except Cadence.
So, it was a pretty major snag in an otherwise flawless plan to get her to like me. I thought beating the crap out of Jeff the Asshole would have made her feel something good for me. I don’t know what she felt about it, because she wouldn’t talk to me. She only said what was absolutely required as a polite human being. Nothing more. At all.
Even Rosalie warmed up to me in a big way. She’s always liked me, but even her liking someone was always pretty much at arm’s length. She pulled me aside a day after the whole incident in the parking lot and hugged me. That sounds so normal, for a mom to hug a guy who protected her daughter, but this was scary-ass Rosalie who made grown men cry and radiated intimidating nastiness.
“That Jeff guy is lucky I didn’t get my hands on him first. I swear to God I would have stomped his goddamn guts out,” she sneered, her eyes getting that evil, scary glint. “But I wasn’t there, and I’m glad you were. He can shove his lawsuits up his ass. Nobody lays a finger on my baby.” She hugged me again, Sullie squeezed between the two of us. She was warm and soft and sweet smelling, the physical polar opposite of what I expected based on her prickly demeanor. “You bring your aunt to our place for dinner tonight. I’ll make you chili that will knock your socks off.”
So began my celebrity status with the Erikson family. Pammy and Jimmy wanted play-by-plays of the whole thing, Tony couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when he saw me, and Rosalie pinched and hugged me whenever I was around.
Cadence was the only one who didn’t seem to even acknowledge my presence in the room.
We ate dinner together, laughed, and joked, and Cadence wasn’t sulky or upset. She was just quiet and unresponsive. When I did catch her eye, it looked like she wanted to say something to me. But it felt like it might be a little more, “ You’re a two bit asshole, Saxon” than “ I love you for what you did, Saxon.”
