Текст книги "Finding Me "

Автор книги: Mariah Dietz

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“A ship is safe in a harbor, but that’s not what ships are for.”

–William G.T. Shedd

Something wakes me from my sleep, and it takes me a moment to realize where I am when I don’t see my familiar box-converted-nightstand covered in shadows, but rather a coffee table that I’ve seen countless times, covered in bright rays of sunlight. I straighten my legs and stretch as I roll my entire body to the side and freeze when I realize that the sunlight isn’t what woke me up. My heart is working to recover as I sit up and let out an excited squeal as Wes stands at the other end of the couch, and engulfs me in a hug.

“Wes!”

“Shit, it’s good to see you!” he says, pulling back and looking over my face several times.

“It’s good to see you!” And it is. Since Christmas I’ve wanted to reach out to him multiple times, but had intentionally avoided doing so. I didn’t even reach out to Jameson in an attempt to abide by the rules of breaking up and the redistribution of friendships.

“I have to get to the library in like an hour, but if you’re free later, I totally want to hang out.”

“Yeah, we’re actually going out tonight if you want to come.”

“Absolutely. Are Landon and J going out too?” The avoidance of Max’s name again doesn’t go unheard as I nod in response.

“My sisters and I are hanging out this afternoon and going to dinner first. I’ll text you the details when I know more.”

“Shit, I would totally miss this study group, but I have an exam Monday and it’s got a heavy weight tied to my grade.”

“No, don’t worry. I’m here for two weeks. Seventeen days actually.”

“I brought some breakfast though. I know from being here how crappy their food selections are,” he says, walking to the end table and producing a familiar pink box.

“You got my favorite?” My voice is woven with awe as he opens the large box and holds it out to show me the contents, all of which are French pastries from a café that we had discovered downtown one day last winter.

“What’s up, sunshine? You must have been tired. I used the spare key and was in here for ten minutes without anyone knowing.”

“I heard you, asswipe.” Landon rubs the back of his neck revealing another small glimpse of his new tattoo. “What in the hell are you doing over here so early? It’s Saturday.”

“I’m going to be stuck in a library all day today and tomorrow. But, we’re ending at eight tonight, so I’m coming out with you.”

“I’m not carrying your ass home tonight.” Landon’s remark makes me smile.

“No, I have to go back tomorrow morning at seven, so I won’t have more than a beer.”

“Uh huh.” Landon’s tone is almost cold, bringing me to look at him more carefully. There’s visible tension in his squared shoulders and straight back. It’s an exchange I don’t recall having seen from Landon … ever. His eyes shift to mine and instantly soften as a smile covers his face. He’s hiding whatever it is from me.

“What are we going to do for your first morning back in Cali?” His voice returns to the soft and gravelly tone I’m accustomed to hearing.

I allow the awkwardness to pass yet again, realizing that I don’t have the right to ask questions about what’s been going on when I’ve been so careful to separate myself. “Just hang out. Feel some sun.”

Wes wraps an arm around my shoulders and nods his head forward. “Let’s go eat on the deck. You coming?” he asks, looking over to Landon.

Landon gives a simple nod in response. The three of us gorge on French pastries with the sun soaking into my bare arms and legs, warming far more than just my skin.

“Adios, boys!” Kendall calls to Jameson and Landon as she climbs into the driver’s seat. Her car is hot and stuffy, and my fingers burn as they barely graze the metal on the seat belt. I’ve missed this feeling. I’ve missed the heat. I’ve missed my sister.

We pull into the parking lot of the same Mexican restaurant that was a norm for our Sister Sundays.

“Ace!” Savannah cries from across the restaurant as we step into the air-conditioned lobby.

Several people from other tables look from her waving arms to us, and I quietly laugh as Kendall shakes her head. “God she hangs out with kids too much.”

A waiter, carrying a tray of slushy red margaritas, queues us to all take a seat after distributing hugs to one another.

“To getting my littlest sister drunk tonight!”

Hoots and cheers from a group of guys a few tables down makes both Mindi and Kendall scowl in their direction, which leads to Jenny giggling and Savannah smiling. Everything about their reactions is familiar.

“Okay, so we’re going to go get our toes done, and maybe do some shopping, and then we’ll head downtown,” Mindi explains while we peer over our menus.

“The girls are back in town!” I look up to see Julio, the owner of the restaurant, approaching us with a fresh tray of drinks, though we’ve hardly made a dent in our current ones. “Ace, como estas? It’s been too long, mi amiga.”

My renewed peace ebbs slightly and my smile becomes a little more forced. “I’m glad to be here. The Northeast doesn’t know how to make authentic Mexican food.”

He smiles, placing a glass in front of each of us. “That just means that you have to come back. Sus hermanas miss you. I miss you. That smile!” he cries. “I miss your beautiful smile.”

“Julio, can we please get some guacamole? We’re celebrating, and nothing beats your guacamole.” Savannah smiles at him, but her eyes slowly drift to me, sensing my unease.

My sisters once again fall into conversation, quickly reestablishing a level of comfort and security.

We place our orders, and it feels so normal.

Though I’ve been feeling better and happier with each passing week in Delaware, sitting here with my sisters as we eat, drink, and laugh over everything and nothing makes me feel almost as though the last year never happened.

I’m a little reluctant to go into Beverly’s Nails. It’s another place that we used to frequent, meaning another spot that they’ll know that I’ve been gone. I’m sure they will have a list of their own questions regarding my absence, as well as my brief return.

“Sister Saturday?” Beverly cries as we step into the salon. “All the sisters!” she cheers, clapping her hands as she bounces with excessive enthusiasm. She’s easily the most emotional person that I know—to manic degrees.

“What are you girls going to do tonight?”

“Getting drunk,” Kendall announces without blinking.

Beverly giggles, either thinking Kendall’s joking around or amused by the news. We all head to the wall of nail polishes.

“If I choose black will I look like an emo?” Savannah asks.

“No, black’s totally in!” Kendall cries, pulling it from the shelf.

“I don’t want to look stupid.”

“You won’t look stupid. It’s just nail polish. Come on, I’ll do it too,” I say, reaching for her hand.

“As long as you get it changed next week before the wedding,” Jenny warns over my shoulder.

“We can come back and change it next week,” Kendall says. “But tonight, we’re painting the city black!”

Beverly claps again, and once more we seem to be the center of attention, though no one looks overly amused at the noise and attention we’re causing. My sisters don’t seem to notice. They’re stuck behind their rose-colored glasses.

We fill an entire bank of chairs for pedicures and set our feet in the tubs of rolling water to soak.

“I think this is the whitest I’ve ever seen you. Your feet are barely darker than mine.”

“It gets cold there. I haven’t gone outside in the last like six months without being fully covered.”

“Do they not have nail salons in the Northeast, either?” she jokes, looking at my unpolished toenails.

“I wear socks all of the time, even when I sleep. It’s cold there.” Her eyebrows rise, but her eyes are fixed on my feet. “Stop staring!” I toss a magazine at her and she finally looks up. A slow smile breaks out across her face.

“Another reason for you to move back.” I ignore her comment.

We quickly fall into a familiar routine of laughing and talking. It’s a little easier today; the subjects consist of people and situations that I’m mostly familiar with. A small twinge of sadness blooms within me at the thought that I will only be here for another sixteen days. It had seemed like such a long trip when I was trying to plan everything, yet this day has gone by in the blink of an eye.

Our toenails and fingernails are a glossy black. I’ve wanted to ask Kendall about Max, and where he is, and more importantly, how he is, but have no intention of asking in front of our older sisters and never got a chance to pull her aside. When we arrive at the house, her car and Mindi’s minivan are the only two vehicles present.

“Wear this one,” Kendall says, nearly hitting me with a hanger in the process of holding a small black dress up to me. I recognize it nearly instantly. I wore it to Billy and Molly’s bachelor and bachelorette party last November. When I was packing I couldn’t take it with me because it held so many memories. Even though it had only been worn for one, it was tied to millions more.

I shake my head as I push it away. “No. Not a chance.”

“What about this one!” Jenny cries pulling out a hanger with a bright red dress.

“She’s not going to wear that one,” Mindi grumbles before I have to state my own objection. She joins our other two sisters at the closet and begins sifting through fabrics and colors until she stops and pulls out a cream colored strapless dress that I had also given to Kendall because I hadn’t foreseen myself needing a dress like it in Delaware.

“Oh, that’s perfect! I can’t wear it, it washes me out, but it will look gorgeous on you! You have to wear it, Ace!” Kendall chimes with excitement.

Two hours later, the five of us pile into a taxi van and head downtown.

“Tonight, my goal is to dance with eleven hot guys,” Savannah says, tugging on her dress, and shifting in her seat.

“Eleven?” Jenny asks.

“My goal is to get five free drinks,” Kendall adds, making me smirk.

“Let’s make this fun. Every hot guy you dance with is one point. Every free drink is two. Whoever gets to ten points first, wins,” Mindi announces.

“Wins what?” Kendall asks. “And who decides if the guy is hot? We need to establish some rules.”

“Oh lord,” Jenny groans, leaning back in her seat.

“Three sisters have to vote.”

I laugh and listen as Kendall and Mindi hash out the rules and details, knowing that this won’t come to fruition.

“Dad’s letter said that he imagined us having a lot of wild nights together once Ace turned twenty-one. He warned me that she’d probably always be able to drink us all under the table,” Savannah says nostalgically.

Her words make me stop. Stop moving. Stop breathing. I think even my heart has stopped. No one’s mentioned dad to me since Christmas.

“He warned me about that too. Said she gets it from mom’s side of the family,” Jenny adds with a laugh.

Kendall squeezes my hand. “What did your letter say?” Four sets of blue eyes turn to look at me.

My focus travels to my lap. “I never opened it.”

“Ace, you need to open it,” Savannah says softly from my other side. Her hand rests on my thigh with the slightest of pressure. “It helps me a lot. Whenever I’m having a particularly rough day, I read it to get my fill of dad advice. I always knew that he was good at that stuff, but it shocks me how it’s relevant to so many of the problems that I experience.”

My chest burns with tears and the urge to flee.

I’m not ready for this.

“So what bar do we want to hit up first?” Kendall interjects, as though she too can feel the panic flooding me.

“Tin Man!” Jenny cheers.

The cab drops us off feet from the door where there’s a line already formed around the front and curling to the alley. Kendall wastes no time. She grips my hand in hers and nods her head toward the front to indicate her intentions to our older sisters and traipses to the front of the line. My feet already hurt, and I’ve only been in these heels for moments. I look down at them; they’re Kendall’s bright red leather pumps. They’re right up my alley. I’ve always loved really brightly colored heels that add pop to an outfit, but with every step that we take toward the front, hearing the people grumbling as we pass, I cringe and wish that I could sink back into the crowd and not have anything about me stand out.

She doesn’t even have to say anything. The bouncer looks us up and down appreciatively and then moves aside and asks us to place our left hands out.

“You didn’t even get carded! This dress is killer!” Savannah squeals excitedly.

The place is already full due to it being a Saturday night, and we make our way to the bar that sits in the middle of the small club fashioned in metal, looking industrial and cold to the point I physically feel chilled even with the throbbing music and dancing bodies surrounding us.

Within seconds, a guy swoops in with dark, gelled hair and a slightly round face, wearing clothes that make him look more skuzzy than sleek. He offers to buy Kendall a drink. Without batting an eye she smiles widely at him and requests a shot of tequila. He turns to relay her order and she raises a finger to us to indicate that she’s counting.

Savannah and Jenny approach the bar, leaving Mindi and me a safe distance from the chaos. I look out across the sea of faces. Something about being back makes me constantly feel the need to check my surrounds to see if I recognize anyone. I don’t know if I actually want to find someone familiar, or if it’s simply instinctual.

Our sisters converge upon us, each holding a shot, Jenny and Savannah with two that they pass to Mindi and me. “Alright, baby sister, here’s to twenty-one years!” Mindi yells over the commotion, earning a cheer and scream from each of our sisters.

We deposit our empty shot glasses on the bar and make our way to the dance floor and begin dancing with each other. Jenny’s the first to dance with a guy, and Mindi instantly follows suit, her competitive nature flaring.

I watch them for a while, making certain to turn any time someone attempts to catch my attention with a stare or by approaching me.

After an hour, the alcohol flows through my veins, loosening my nerves, and I follow Wes out to the dance floor near Kendall and Jameson. The four of us dance and laugh, a familiarity coating me that has me relax even further.

Landon’s the last to arrive, finding our small group, wearing a wide smile and long-sleeved shirt because although the weather seems warm to me and what I’m starting to become accustomed to, the weather’s a little cool tonight for locals.

“Where have you been?” Wes asks as Landon’s arms wrap around my shoulders.

“I had to take a nap before coming out here.”

“Old man!” Jameson cries, playfully throwing a punch into Landon’s side.

“An old man that can whip your ass,” Landon returns, making all of us laugh, even though I’m pretty sure none of us doubt the truth in his words.

The night progresses with us travelling to two additional clubs, our group growing with Adam and Kyle.

Landon’s been my dance partner for several songs, but I notice his attention keeps getting pulled away. I finally glance over my shoulder to see a tall auburn-haired girl with a deep cut purple dress and eyes that are transfixed on Landon.

“I’m going to go get something to drink,” I yell, disentangling myself from him.

His eyes meet mine, and then go back to the girl again, looking slightly guilty.

“Go introduce yourself, Romeo. I’ll be fine.”

His lips crack with a smile, and I shove him forward before turning to head to the bar.

“Ace? Ace?”

I turn reflexively at the sound of my name and find Amy Hall and her long blond hair approaching me with wide eyes conveying her surprise.

“Ace!” Her bare arms feel too warm as they wrap around my shoulders. Seeing someone that knows too much of my history and not enough of my present fills me with a growing sense of restlessness.

Her eyes flicker to mine but it’s not in the same way that my sisters do; it’s not to seek something out, but a brief stop as her eyes scan over me, likely finding that I’m still a little too thin, making my eyes appear too big.

“I can’t believe you’re here! I heard some crazy rumor that you moved to the East Coast!” Her smile shows how ridiculous she finds the rumor.

“I did.”

Her eyes widen further, and her smile begins to fall. “What happened? I mean, I know you and your dad, but I saw you at home quite a bit before he … you know.”

“Died?”

She nods, looking more uncomfortable by the word than she should with what all she’s asking me. “Did you and Max? I don’t know. I’m so confused. I heard that you guys were a couple, and were dating for a long time, and getting really serious, but I know you aren’t Max’s type because he doesn’t date, so…”

My eyebrow rises as soon as the word aren’t leaves her mouth, and I wait for the rest of her words, realizing as she shifts her weight to her other foot that I’ve been spending too much time with Kitty as I withhold the words she’s looking to me for.

“I mean, he slept with like, God knows how many girls.”

“No he didn’t.” My chin drops and my voice lowers as I feel a surge of defensiveness rush through me. Maybe it’s for Max, maybe it’s for my own self-respect, I don’t know. I can’t consider it too much because her eyes narrow on me and recognition dawns on her face.

“You really were dating him.”

I can’t tell if her surprise is because I chose Max, or he chose me, but it makes me feel self-conscious and furthers my defensiveness, though I refuse to confirm her words because there’s no chance in hell I’m going to explain to her what happened.

“I thought everyone was lying when they said you guys were dating because I saw you hanging around town for a couple of weeks and never saw him,” she repeats her earlier accusation that I continue to avoid answering with a blank stare.

“You moved across the country because Max Miller dumped you?”

I’ve always considered Amy a friend, not a best friend, but someone that would stick up for me if she heard a nasty rumor or willing to help if I ever called on her, just as I would for her. Staring into her dull green eyes, I feel nothing but loathing for her, burning through me like hot grease, erasing every friendly interaction we’ve ever shared.

I don’t respond to her or push her away like I’m tempted to. I do what I always do. I leave. Disappearing through the throngs of arms and gyrating bodies makes it easy for me to separate myself from her and everyone else, almost too easy.

The night air brings a welcomed chill to my skin that that is too hot from the heat and the anger pulsing through me. I’m consumed with resentment as I make my way down the sidewalk, in need of some sort of distance, some sort of barrier between the thoughts she’s invoked that threaten to overcome me.

“Ace!”

My heart rate and steps quicken at the voice that’s too familiar to not penetrate my cloud of thoughts, increasing my need to get out of here.

A large hand wraps around my own, tugging me to a stop. A deep breath escapes me as I turn my face to catch Nathan Hudson looking at me with excitement that quickly dims when he sees my expression.

His eyebrows furrow and his grip loosens slightly on my hand. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” I growl, pulling my hand from his grip and turning on a red leather heel.

“Where are you going?”His words follow me as I stalk a few paces with Kendall’s borrowed heels echoing on the sidewalk.

My ears ring from being in loud clubs all night, and voices in my head are screaming at a disturbing level, but I still hear the jeers that are directed toward me as I pass by a bar littered with men that are smoking, leaning against the brick exterior.

As a particularly vulgar comment is slung my way, an arm wraps around my shoulders and pulls me against a hard frame. It’s Nate, of course. The last thing I want to do right now is walk down the street arm in arm with Nate, but I know that with the combination of the alcohol I’ve consumed and the rampant thoughts that have most of my senses and mind distracted, I’m an easy target. I swallow my fury and continue to walk, pressed up against his side.

“What are you doing out here by yourself? Where are you going?” he rasps as we step onto the curb of the next sidewalk.

I shrug him off and take a step to the left to create more space as we continue up another block as a response.

“I didn’t know you were back?”

I know he’s looking for me to confirm one way or the other, but I don’t. I can’t seem to focus enough energy or attention to have a conversation that won’t uncover one or several of the things I’m working to suppress.

“Come on, my truck’s this way.”

“I’m not getting in a car with you.”

“Ace, what are you going to do? Walk? Where are you even going?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Nate grabs my arm and I slap it away as I forcefully shout for him not to touch me. His hands fly up in surrender, looking shocked at my outburst. “You’ll never touch me again!”

“Ace…” He grabs my arm again, using just enough force to stop me, but not enough to be painful. “I never, never touched you.” He shakes his head several times. “I don’t know what you or Rodriguez think happened that night, but it wasn’t whatever in the hell you think it was.”

His words repeat in my head as I try to focus on them and clear enough space to decipher what he’s saying. Shaking my head, I tell him, “That makes no sense.”

“You think I tried to hurt you? That I was helping those fucking goons? I thought Jessica Finley saw enough to know what happened.”

“She did, and then she went and got Pedro!”

“You think Rodriguez could have taken on all four guys by himself? He was wasted and just started swinging the second he walked in. He fucking hit the wall at one point because he had no balance! I wasn’t trying to hurt you! I was trying to protect you!”

Every muscle in me goes slack as I see the sincerity and intensity pouring from his brown eyes.

“I would never force a girl! Never!” His voice rises with an anger that I can somehow understand and even validate. “How in the hell you guys all thought that, and never said a fucking word to me, blows my fucking mind. I kept waiting for you to ask me about what happened, sure that you would press charges on those sick sons of bitches, but you never came. The first time I approached you about it, you ran away, looking scared as shit, and I thought it was because you were embarrassed or afraid of me because I broke Collin’s arm.”

“I didn’t even know you did that,” I admit in a whisper.

“Why in the hell didn’t you confront me, then?”

“It was easier to just—”

“Ace!”

Nate and I both turn to see Kendall rushing toward us, her heels clipping as her hair fans behind her. Her face is contorted with rage that requires a delayed moment for me to realize is directed toward Nate, rather than me for leaving.

I quickly move in front of him, pressing my back against his front and raising both of my hands to her.

“Move!” she screams, gripping my right wrist in her left hand as she seethes at Nate.

“Kendall, no!” I cry. “Pedro and I were wrong! Ow!” I cry, pulling my hand free from hers and clutching my right bicep where her tightly clenched fist just hit me. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Move!”

“Kendall, he didn’t do anything! Calm down!” My arm throbs with a surprising amount of pain from the impact that makes me want to look at my arm to see the damage, but her face is still fully masked in anger, as though my words are falling on deaf ears.

“STOP!” I yell, reaching forward and grabbing both of her wrists in my hands. “Stop,” I repeat when her blue eyes reluctantly meet mine. “He never did anything to me.”

“He was trying to!” She struggles against me, and it takes everything in me to hold her back.

“He protected me!” I cry, tightening my grip on her arms. “He helped me.”

Kendall has a similar reaction to my own as her eyes grow wide and her muscles fall lax under my grip.

“He protected you?” she repeats.

I nod, releasing my hold on her.

“I punched him,” she says, looking slightly shocked.

“Actually, you punched me, Rocky.” My voice is too tight to convey the joke that I’m intending, but it doesn’t seem to matter because Kendall’s shaking her head.

“I punched him,” she repeats.

“It’s okay,” Nate supplies from behind me. “If I’d have thought that, I would have punched me too.”

“I still hate you. Don’t try to be a nice guy now,” Kendall bites. “I hate you less for helping my sister, but you’re still a complete asshole.

Nate’s lips purse, and his jaw clenches, but he doesn’t try to object.

“Come on,” Kendall says, linking her arm with mine.

We take a few steps forward before I pull her to a stop and turn to face Nate again. “Thank you for stopping them from…” My words trail off because although I’ve started to face what might have occurred that night had Pedro, and now Nate, not intervened, I’m not yet ready to vocalize it. “I’ll make sure Pedro knows the truth.”

“And Miller. I’m done being on his damn hit list.”

My eyes snap to Kendall beside me, wondering how Max knows anything about this. She gives me a silent nod to confirm she’ll explain later, and I turn back to Nate and nod in agreement. “I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it.”

Nate’s mouth opens like he wants to say something more, but then he closes it and places both hands on his hips as he looks up at the sky. I turn around, not sure how to create any more closure for this moment. Kendall’s right; although I no longer feel such a strong loathing for Nate, he’s still done some really asshole-ish things, and some of those things were to my sister. I’ll never want to be his friend, but I’ll also always feel appreciative for what he helped stop.

Kendall and I trek across the same stretch that I’d covered with Nate, back toward the club in silence. I can tell by the rigidness of her steps that she’s trying to process what just happened.

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

I’m relieved she doesn’t want to discuss what happened that night, though I know she’ll eventually be asking me again. “You seriously know how to hit.”

Kendall turns and the sadness and focus on her face breaks into a small grin. “Max and Landon taught me. You were my first real punch.”

“That’s something for the record books. Remind me to thank Landon later.”

The others are all standing outside of the club, talking and looking at cell phones. I’m sure they’re considering where we went when I hear Mindi’s voice over the raucous noises, calling our names.

“Where did you guys go?” she demands.

“I just needed some air,” Kendall lies seamlessly.

“Let’s go home. I’m ready to stick my Twinkie in some ice cream,” Jameson says, wrapping his arm around Kendall and pressing a kiss to her temple.

“What?” I cry, turning to face him with a laugh.

“I got that ice cream at home…”

“Dude, that sounds wrong on so many levels,” Wes says, shaking his head.

Jameson’s brow furrows for a second, then rises with a laugh. “A Twinkie is only like four inches long, come on. If I was going down that road, I’d have said something like; my trombone is going to get tuned tonight.”

“If you can’t cut the mustard, baby, lick the jar!” Landon calls with a whoop.

I giggle even harder as I lean against Kendall. “I don’t know if I actually understand how that means what I know he’s implying.”

“Battering my corn dog,” Jameson calls out, too loudly. “Painting my flagpole.”

I laugh even harder when I hear Jenny shriek with laughter. “Glazing the donut!” she cries.

Adam looks horrified for a split second, his ears and neck turning red. I have to stop walking because I’m laughing so hard I can’t see straight.

“I think you mean putting cream in the donut,” Wes says, and somehow I think I’m laughing harder than I’ve ever laughed before as I hear Jenny walk through her confusion aloud before understanding.

“Want your chimney swept, babe?” Jameson asks, wrapping an arm around Kendall’s stomach and pulling her flush against him.

“You have to stop,” I choke out. “My stomach hurts.”