Текст книги "Dizzy"

Автор книги: Nyrae Dawn

Соавторы: Jolene Perry
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Twenty-Three

~Dylan~

I’ve spent the past couple days in two places: in the bed or on the deck at our house on the coast. It’s embarrassing to be in this kind of slump, and I’m thankful no one is here to see me, but the sad part is, it’s all I can do. It’s all I want to do. Still, I can’t wrap my head around this. After everything Mom did, she came back. There are no words to describe how that makes me feel, but it’s nothing compared to knowing they knew. They chose her over me. Kept it from me. What does that say about me?

And Ziah chose James.

What was she doing with me this whole time?

Putting my feet up on the wooden porch chair, I pick up my sketchbook, my eyes taking in the foaming waves in front of me. Salty air hits my skin. It reminds me of the rain when it swam around her. How she made me want to try when she knew she had James in the background.

Suddenly, I’m pissed. My hands shake as I start ripping drawings out of my book, the one of her eyes in Dad’s office building, the one of her smiling as she looked up at the wet sky. It’s so stupid, and I know it. But I can’t stop myself from ripping the pages over and over again, watching them fly away with the wind.

How long was she hanging out with James? How long was Mom back? How long were Derrick and Dad lying to me?

Totally aware I’m throwing a tantrum, I push to my feet and chuck the sketch book as far as I can. It lands at the edge of the water, one big wave away from being gone.

“Wow… good arm.”

I whip around, my heart somewhere in my throat. “Dude, warn a guy, would ya?” As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m glad Paul’s here.

“I knew you’d be here. Just wanted to give you some time, but now we’re running out of it.” He walks over to me and leans against the railing. “So what’s up, man? You have everyone all stressed about where you are. The wedding’s tomorrow.”

“I texted Dad to let him know I’m okay.” I look over at my best friend. “You tell them I was here?” I don’t acknowledge the wedding bit. I can’t deal with that right now.

“Of course not. Bros before… you know what I mean.”

I let out a small laugh. It’s almost a real one. Then I want to kick myself in the ass. It’s almost a real one? When did I start talking like this? Thinking like this? My head is so screwed up, it’s like I’m not me anymore. I don’t do this moping shit. I don’t let people get to me. This is why I go for girls like Chastity, who only want one thing.

I turn to Paul. “Let’s get drunk.”

“Umm… okay?”

“Seriously, we haven’t partied here in a while. I know we can find some people who want to chill.” I’m pacing now. Why didn’t I think of this before? It’s the perfect way to get my mind off stuff, to get back to just having fun and being me. “A few phone calls, and we can get this place packed. Think we can get beer? Yeah, I’m sure we can. My cell’s dead, but we can call some people from home on yours. I know some people here, too.”

“Hey.” Paul steps in front of me. “Is this a personal conversation or can I join?”

Without replying, I shake my head at him.

“Dylan, let’s just chill. You know I’m down for any reason to party, but,” he shrugs. “I mean, I know about everything.”

“Nope. Not going there.” I push open the sliding glass door and go inside. Paul’s right behind me. “We’re not Dr. Phil’in it.”

He grabs my arm as I try to walk into the kitchen for the phone. “Dude, I’m your best friend. I know you, Dylan. Anyone would feel screwed up after all this. I mean, shit, she’s really back after all this time?”

Ripping my arm away, I collapse in the kitchen chair. “You probably know more than I do. I didn’t stick around to find out the particulars, but yeah, she’s back. I don’t care about anything else.”

“I don’t know any more than you do. Your dad called to see if you were with me, told me she was back, and I said I hadn’t seen you and came here.” He scratches his shaved head, obviously about to delve into territory we’re usually not in together. “If you like, wanna talk or whatever, we can get some beer, chill, talk, break stuff… whatever.”

I kind of want to... to spill it all, but I can’t.

“You want to help me? Then let’s get this house packed full of people. I want…” I want to forget. “I want to party.”

Paul blows out a breath. “No.”

His words make me stumble. Paul not want to party? Is the whole world falling apart, and I wasn’t told that either? “No? Fine. I’ll do it without you.”

“She kissed that guy in the park, Dylan. I saw it. She didn’t bring us there because she wanted us to have a good time. She did it so she could hook up.”

Red is all I see. I’m shaking as I turn on him. “What the hell are you talking about? Why are you bringing that stuff up now? Why are you lying?”

“Because, bro, it’s time to man up. You know what it was like. I didn’t even live with you, and I know what it was like. She wasn’t happy. Hell, she didn’t give a shit. You’re never going to move on until you wake up and stop rewriting your own fucking past!”

Unable to stop myself, I lunge, toppling into Paul and making him fall to the ground. He rolls, I roll, both of us trying to get the best of the other. My body is on fire. My head is gone now.

“I didn’t rewrite my past! You’re just jealous because she did stuff with us your mom didn’t! How can you say that shit to me?”

Another roll and Paul’s on top. “Because I’m your best friend, and I’m tired of seeing her win. After all this time, I’m tired of seeing her hurt you!”

“So you decided to do it?” I yell at him.

“No! I’m trying to tell you she didn’t deserve you guys. I’m trying to make you have a fucking life and not let her ruin it anymore.”

My hands drop away from him and his from me. I’m sitting on the floor. Water wets my face, running down harder than Ziah’s rain. Paul is next to me. My chest hurts I’m breathing so hard, but I don’t know what to do. What to say.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean... I just think you need to acknowledge it or whatever. It wasn’t perfect like you want to believe it was.”

He’s right. I know he’s right. I’m not sure if I knew all along and couldn’t admit it, if I blocked it out, or what. But I know.

“I used to hear them sometimes… her yelling at him late at night. I think… I mean, I don’t remember it all, but I’m pretty sure she used to go out a lot. Leave me with Derrick. I thought it was fun.”

But it wasn’t cool, was it? I’m sitting with my knees up, my back against the wall. My arms wrap around them, my head falls forward, and I let it out.

“Why? Why couldn’t I see it before?”

Paul shrugs. “I don’t know, man. Maybe it’s like post-partum depression or something.”

Looking at him, I shake my head. “That’s for pregnant chicks, you idiot. It’s post-traumatic.”

“That, too. Maybe you had both.”

We laugh, and somehow I feel a little lighter. “None of you guys said anything. You, Derrick, Dad. You all just let me go around in freaking La La Land for years.”

“That’s because we like… careforyouandshit.” He scratches his head, so I can’t see his face. He might have mumbled, but I heard him. Even if he didn’t speak, I heard him.

“Yeah… yeah.”

He scoots away, and we both stand up. Now I find it in me to feel a little weird. Not because I don’t trust him or that I think he’d tell anyone, just because… well, I just cried in front of my best friend.

But somehow it doesn’t matter. “Seriously… Thanks.”

Paul holds out his hand, and this time when we bump fists, our hands linger there a little.

“You owe me one, though.” He doesn’t let me ask him what. “Don’t run. You’re not the type. Don’t let this shit eat you alive anymore, Dylan. She doesn’t deserve it. No. You don’t deserve it.”

And he’s right. I have no idea how he got so smart or if he’s always been this smart, but I never saw it. Or he never showed me. He’s right though. I’m tried, so tired of running. Derrick got over it. Maybe Dad and I can too.

“Can you get ahold of them? Tell them I want her to come here. Her. No one else.”

Paul nods, takes out his phone, and then he’s gone.

Twenty-Four

~ Ziah ~

My alarm is piercing. Even more than normal. I know I fell asleep because I don’t remember Mom coming home and because I’m hanging on the edge of my bed banging the top of my stupid alarm. I snatch my phone off the floor as my fingers finally find the snooze button.

Nothing.

No replies to texts, no voicemails. Nothing. Am I on day two now? Three? Even Derrick said he was headed out of town to find him, leaving his fiancé behind. Tomorrow night is supposed to be the rehearsal dinner, and no one’s heard a word.

I really, really thought if one of us was going to screw things up, it would be him. And maybe he is the one screwing everything up, but it’s also me. One or two sentences would have kept him on the phone, but I didn’t say them. At the same time, I could have told him a million different times. “James and I are talking again. It’s awkward, and I’ll never be more than friends with him. But we’re talking.” And I didn’t.

Then when Dylan called, maybe he wouldn’t have hung up. Maybe I could have cheered him up the way he’s done with me over and over. Instead he’s disappeared, and I know that part of it’s my fault.

My heart drops. And then it drops again when I remember my calculus mid-term is today. Time to pretend the last bit of Ziah’s world didn’t just fall apart.

***

There is no concentrating on anything. My brain won’t focus. I’m in this haze of frustration, anger, and sadness. Oh, and sleeplessness.

I feel defeated after calculus. Everyone’s done with our test and is trying to relax and joke around on our last day before spring break. I’m trying to stay awake.

James seems okay. He’s two rows over and a chair up from me. Rachelle is laughing with him in our final few minutes before the bell. And it hurts a bit. She’s not as pretty as me, which I know sounds mean, but she’s definitely sweeter. James looks half-interested, and I’m sure it won’t take much for him to be wholly interested.

I’m staring at the way he’s looking at her. Sort of like the way we started looking at one another more than a year ago. Definitely interested. But cautious. Our eyes catch just before the bell rings. I leap out of my chair to get to the door before he catches me.

Talking to James isn’t high on my list. Except… I sort of left him hanging at my house the other day. Crap.

“Ziah!” He steps up behind me almost touching as I stop at my locker. We may be broken up, but after so much time together, he has no problem invading my personal space.

“What’s up?” I try my best neutral smile.

“No offense, but you look like hell.” He leans sideways on the locker next to mine. It’s not a “James” thing to do. He doesn’t lean.

“Thank you.” I hope he catches my sarcasm.

“Sorry, that came out wrong. I take it things didn’t go well?”

“Do you care?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s weird for me to think of you with someone else. I still can’t imagine myself with someone else.” Traces of the sadness he’s been wearing are back.

“Even Rachelle?” I try a smile. I’m not sure how it comes off.

His cheeks seriously turn a little pink. “I don’t know. Is that weird?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “But that doesn’t mean…”

He holds his hand up between us. “I think you’ve made it clear plenty of times that we won’t ever be together. My ego really doesn’t need to hear it again.”

I look down. “I’m sorry, James. Yes, it’s weird. I feel it.” I touch my fingers to my chest. “But it’s okay.”

“We’re friends now, right?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “We’re friends now.”

“You really should do some girl thing with Alyssa, because I mean it. You look like hell.”

I slug him in the shoulder. “Go find Rachelle and pester her, huh?”

He sort of nods once and walks away—embarrassed again.

Why can’t Dylan have an eighth of his persistence. No, a twentieth? Just enough persistence to stay on the phone for twenty more seconds? Who hangs up with NO explanation? Why did he think it was okay to do this to me?

I go from feeling like shit, to being pissed. Over. And over. And over.

***

Mom and Lora are in the kitchen when I step inside after school. Mom’s never home. Well, almost never. I stand just inside the front door, a little unsure of what to do with myself. Her eyes catch mine, and she comes straight toward me. I’d bet money on Lora, Alyssa, or both having called her.

Her arms come around me without hesitation. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No. I’m exhausted from talking.” My body rests against hers.

“I finished the mac and cheese you like from the restaurant, but I added some extra spice for you.” Mom pinches my cheek like she’s always done and half jogs back into the kitchen.

I let my pack drop to the floor and kick off my shoes. I head for my bedroom to get pajamas. Our movie is starting when I walk back out. How To Marry a Millionaire – the ultimate chick flick.

Mom’s sitting with two heaping bowls of mac and cheese and two glasses of eighty dollar a bottle of wine from the restaurant. Normally it’s just for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but I guess me looking like hell is an exception.

“Sorry I haven’t been here, but you know I love you, right?” Her arm comes around me, as she kisses my head.

“I know. Thanks so much. I…”

“I know. You didn’t want to talk. When you do, let me know. Dylan’s okay. We found him.”

Relief pours through me followed by more nausea because they found him, but he hasn’t called.

Lora flops on the other side of me with a salad. I raise a brow trying to pretend to be at least half-okay when I’m definitely not.

She shrugs. “I’m getting married in two days. I can’t be bloated.”

I open my mouth twice to ask more about Dylan, but nothing comes out.

Lora squeezes my shoulder a few times as I try to get my breathing under control so I don’t cry. I’ve never been such a crier in all my life.

I slump back into the couch, take a long drink of the wine, and rest the huge bowl of spicy mac and cheese on my chest. The movie pulls me straight into warmth, comfort, my family, and distraction.

Twenty-Five

~Dylan~

Even though it’s freezing outside and I hate to be cold, I’ve been sitting on the deck since I got out of the shower. Yep, that’s right, a couple hours. But the cool, crisp air is not only keeping me awake, it’s also somehow keeping me from freaking out while Paul’s gone.

I’ve been trying to judge time since he left. He was calling when he walked out. It wouldn’t take long for him to find her or to get a hold of someone who knew exactly where she was. If she gave a crap or cared at all and left right away, she could be here in minutes.

My heart and head have been warring this whole time over whether I’m ready or not, but I wonder if this is something you can ever be ready for. Or if it’s something you just jump into, somehow navigate your way through, and then come out on the other side either better for it or more screwed up than you were before.

Wow… maybe Paul’s not the only one who’s doing better at figuring stuff out.

Lights chase each other across the driveway off to the side of the house. My leg starts jumping up and down as a car door opens and slams shut. Click, click, click, of heels sound on the pavement, and then she’s here, standing in front of me.

She looks just like I remember. Young—she was always young, younger than dad. My eyes look back at me, but her hair is lighter than mine or Derrick’s. She’s all wrapped up in an expensive jacket, and I can’t help but wonder if she bought it herself. What does she do? Or does she stay home with other kids the way she used to stay home with us while her new husband works?

All of a sudden, I am ready. I need this. No, I want this. Without a word, I walk inside. She follows.

“Dylan,” she says, but I turn to her, holding my hand up to stop her.

I plop into a living room chair, and she sits across from me on the couch.

“Where have you been?” I say. There’s no emotion in my voice, and I like it that way.

She’s fidgeting with her purse. “California first. Then back East. I’m in New Jersey right now. I’m head of my department—”

“Family?”

A small nod is my reply. It pierces through me, but it’s just another thing to add to the hurt she’s caused. The hurt I’m going to get over.

“How long have you been back? You been talking to everyone but me?”

“I just got into town when I saw you. Derrick started looking for me because of the wedding. I got a message. He wasn’t even sure it was me, but I had to come before I lost my nerve.”

Before she lost her nerve? Heat spikes in my body. She stands like she’s going to come over to me, but the look on my face makes it clear she’d better not. I don’t want her comfort.

She sits back down.

“I’m not done.” My hand automatically moves up and rubs the back of my neck. I’m freaked out that my voice won’t work. I’m freaked out about what she’ll say, but I have to ask.

The word is near a whisper. “Why?”

“Like I said, Derrick called because of the wedding… I think he wanted closure.”

It’s not what I meant, and she has to know it.

“Why?” I ask again, scared of having the answer and not having it, too. “No bullshit either. Even if you didn’t love Dad, why did you leave me and Derrick?”

I wait while she stalls. Takes a few breaths. Messes with her purse more. Her eyes look back at me shimmering more than they were before. When she finally starts to talk, her voice is so soft I have to struggle to hear her.

“I… I had to get away. We got together young, got pregnant with Derrick. I wasn’t in love with your dad, but I tried… for you boys I tried, but I couldn’t make myself happy. When I—” She stops to rub her eyes. “I didn’t plan not to see you boys. I just had to go. Then I met someone, and I didn’t tell him. I don’t know why. Maybe I felt guilty, but I didn’t say a word. We got serious, and I still didn’t tell him. After a while, I’d been gone so long, I couldn’t come back. How could I just show up again in your lives? How could I tell him? Once we got married… pregnant. How could I tell him then that I had other kids out there?

“Maybe it makes me a coward, but I convinced myself you guys were better off without my interrupting your lives after so long. That Jim and Sally were better off without knowing they had siblings they know nothing about…”

So that’s it. I waited years for this, and it’s not even a real reason to me. She didn’t love Dad, needed a break, and left. Then some other guy—some other family—became more important, and she was too chicken, didn’t want the drama. That’s it.

Sometimes there’s something so big in your life, something so monumental that you make up all these different, life-altering reasons why it happened. She was an FBI agent, involved in some huge plot and had to go to save the world. She was a fucking princess in some other country. Even though she left a note, she never really wanted to leave, but was forced. Something.

It’s all kid stuff. Things I knew could never be true but always let myself believe because this was so huge to me. Now I see the truth isn’t so big at all. There aren’t reasons, and there doesn’t have to be. Sometimes, things just are.

It’s so strange how one choice can derail so many lives. It was so huge to me, I expected her answer to change everything, but it didn’t. I guess that’s life, right? You never really know what’s waiting for you. You never really know what’s going to happen or why. You just have to be able to deal with it. Big or small. And I haven’t been dealing. I’ve been just as selfish as her, getting mad at Derrick for Lora, pushing Ziah away.

Not anymore. Because to me, Mom’s just sad. I don’t want to be like that. Like her.

She cries. “I wish I could change it. I wish I could go back, but I can’t. I’ve regretted that day so many times, Dylan. I’ve wanted to come back so often, just to see you boys, but I was so scared. I knew I didn’t deserve you.”

I don’t hesitate to answer. “No, you didn’t. And you still don’t. Good luck with your family. I hope you don’t ever do to them what you did to us.”

There’s nothing else to say. Nothing else to hear. When I let her out of the house, somehow I come out on the other side different. Better.

***

I don’t get the door closed before two figures step out of the shadows: Dad and Derrick. They knew I’d need them, and they’re here. Hell, my brother left behind his fiancé the day before their wedding. Shit, the night of the bachelor/bachelorette party for me. For the Gibson Boys.

Derrick closes the door as Dad pulls me into a hug, squeezing me tighter than I ever remember being squeezed. That easily, they’re forgiven. Nothing is forgotten, but forgiven.

“Ummm, Dad. Can’t. Breathe.”

He laughs, letting go of me.

Derrick gives me a half hug, a twelve pack of beer in one of his hands. I look back and forth between him and my dad, who shrugs, giving me a smile. My dad may have turned a blind eye, but he has never, ever let me drink in front of him before.

“We’re having a guy’s night. Derrick informed me it’s not a guy’s night without beer. Makes me wonder about what you two do when you’re together.”

Guy’s night. The thought makes me smile.

“Not me. It’s those college kids. Always partying,” I tease. Derrick gives me a playful push in reply before walking toward the kitchen. Dad and I follow.

“It’s a bachelor party. We need beer for that. You guys have to know that one.” Derrick sits at the table.

“I’m sorry, Derrick. For screwing everything up. You’re supposed to be at the party.”

“Brought the party here.”

“You’re supposed to be with Lora.”

He shrugs. “She knows I need to be with you.”

I nod at him. Lora’s awesome. I’m glad my brother’s marrying her. Glad she’ll be family.

“Cool. She’s cool.”

As much as I want to pretend it’s all okay, I can’t. Not without saying what I need to say. “I can’t forgive her. I don’t know what you guys have planned, but—”

Dad clasps a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to. And I hope you know her decisions weren’t about us or our worth.” Dad sighs. “It’s been a long time, son. I should have given your mom up a long time ago. Maybe if I would have, it would have been easier for you. That’s my fault, and I apologize.”

Before I can reply, Derrick jumps in. “It wasn’t about forgiving her, D. I just needed to make my peace. To finally free myself of her before getting married. We never expected her to just show up like that. I knew you’d take it hard, so I didn’t want to tell you unless—didn’t know how to tell you—”

“That’s the problem.” I cross my arms. “You guys never knew how to tell me anything. You always left me in the dark. How did anyone expect me to believe I could handle anything if you guys didn’t think I could?”

“You’re right,” Dad says. “I just… you were so young. I wanted you to have those good memories. I wanted to hold onto your mom because I thought it was best for you guys. Or hell, maybe I just wanted her. You’re a man, Dylan, and it’s time I treat you like one. I’m proud of you, son.”

I can’t find my words, but Derrick saves me. “Okay, okay. Enough of the sappy stuff.”

He pulls out three bottles, opens one, and gives it to me. He does the same for Dad and saves one for himself. We all hold them up.

“To the Gibson Boys,” Dad says.

“And girls!” Derrick adds. “Well, at least Lora, and from what I’ve heard, Dyl probably wants to cheer for Ziah, too.”

Dad shakes his head, but he’s smiling.

I do want to cheer for her. Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on with the James thing, but I know her, and I know I probably overreacted. And I like her.

“Definitely to girls. And to growing up, getting over the past. Yeah, and girls.”

We clank our bottles together and drink.