Текст книги "Toxic"

Автор книги: Rachel Van Dyken

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter Thirty-Four

You can tell a lot just by reading the expression in a person’s eyes – and Gabe’s… it was the same expression a trapped animal gets before it’s shot in the head. His dad was the hunter – and Gabe was the deer. His time was up. And I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to feel sorry for him or horrified at the revelation. He was a stranger to me. A complete and total stranger. —Saylor

Gabe

“Let her go.” My nostrils flared as I stalked toward my dad, a man that, if I had it my way, was about to get thrown into Puget Sound and held under the dark murky water until he stopped fighting back. “Now.”

“What?” Dad’s face was indifferent. It always was. It was part of the reason I hated him. Because I got my talent to act – directly from him. One minute he was the happiest man in the world, the next, you’d think he was working for the mafia or high on drugs. “No hug?”

“Hell, no.” I spat. “Let her go.”

With a cruel smile, he pushed Lisa away into Kiersten’s waiting arms. Wes strode over and stood in front of the girls. At least I knew if there was a fight we’d win. My dad didn’t stand a chance.

Then again, he’d just sue the shit out of us if he survived and I wasn’t about to let my best friend go to prison for murder, so yeah. We were screwed.

“New tattoo?” Dad motioned to my neck.

Damn, but I felt every muscle strain in my body. Begging for a fight.

“Your mom misses you.”

I laughed and crossed my arms. “I’m sure she’s fine. After all, she has all the money she needs to be happy, right?”

His cold blue eyes narrowed in on me. He looked dirty, like he hadn’t slept in days. He smelled like he hadn’t seen a shower in weeks.

“Been camping in your car?” I mocked him. “Or did you have to sell that in order to pay your debts?”

“You think—” He smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “—that you’re in any position to toss insults around, son?”

“Don’t call me son,” I all but yelled.

“Oh but, why deny it? Especially since we’re going to be spending so much time together. I have everything worked out – long lost son finally comes home to family after four years of solitude!” His eyes pooled with tears.

Son of a bitch!

“Oh, yes, Miss Walters, it was such a happy reunion, having our little Ashton back.”

I reared back and punched him in the face.

He fell to the ground, cursing.

Wes came up behind me and grabbed my arms. I pulled against him trying to lunge for my dad.

Dad looked up at me through watery eyes, as blood dripped from his nose. “You’re stronger than you used to be.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“Do it.” He smirked. “I’ll still be smiling from the pit of hell.”

I lunged again, but Wes held me firm.

“After all…” Dad stood. “All I’ve ever wanted is the truth Isn’t that what they say? It sets you free?” He sniffed. “Isn’t that what you want, to be free? Finally free?”

“You’re insane,” I ground out, injecting as much hatred as I could into those two words.

“Tomorrow.” Dad handed me a piece of paper with his phone number on it. “We’ll talk about your return.”

“I’d rather die.”

Dad made his way toward the door then paused and turned. “Oh, I know that. You would never do it for me, son. But for Mel?” His eyes fell on Lisa. “Or how about Kimmy?”

With everything in me, I fought the arms banded around me like a vise. “I’ll kill you for this!” I screamed.

“Tomorrow,” Dad repeated and left.

I thrashed against Wes – until Lisa walked up and stood in front of me. “Just you and me, okay? It will be okay. I promise.” Her eyes pooled with tears. “Screw him, let them find out about me, I don’t care, just—” Wes released me into her arms as she hugged me. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too, Mel.” I sighed. “Me too.”

We hugged for a few brief minutes before Wes cleared his throat behind us.

“Gabe?” Saylor spoke so softly I wanted to cry. “What’s going on?”

Without looking at her I answered, “My names not Gabe. It’s Ashton Parker Hyde.”

And I finally understood the expression of hearing a pin drop in a room. I might have just said I was Spiderman.

Chapter Thirty-Five

The truth really does set you free – but what they don’t tell you is the process hurts like hell. —Wes M.

Saylor

I felt my mouth drop open as the mask fell completely away from Gabe – or rather, Ashton’s – face. His eyes, those blue eyes, and his dark hair. Mortified, I wanted to cover my face with my hands. I’d told him he’d look better blond – because his natural color? A honey blond, that for years, people swore couldn’t even be copied… He was my generation’s version of the perfect Ken Doll. Everything about him was worshipped, revered as though he was some sort of god. It had been devastating when he abandoned the industry and fell off the face of the planet.

Girls full on wept for months.

There were reports that he’d died of a drug overdose, or worse yet, committed suicide after his famous girlfriend was killed in a tragic skiing accident.

All lies.

Every last one.

Princess.

My knees buckled beneath me as the lies swarmed around the room, stealing the oxygen my body so desperately needed.

“Hey.” Kiersten knelt down by my side and pulled me into her arms. I’d met her what? Three times? And I clung to her like she was my mom. Like she would protect me.

“Y-you aren’t cousins?” I pointed between him and Lisa, my stomach getting sicker. Funny, how I’d thought he and Kiersten had a thing. So was it Lisa all along?

Not only was he engaged to a fiancée who – surprise! – wasn’t dead. But the girl he’d been introducing as his cousin was—

“Holy crap!” Kiersten yelled in my left ear. “Lisa, you could have told me. I would have… understood.”

“I know.” Lisa shrugged. “I did it for Ashton, not me.”

Who was she?

I struggled to remember my fourteen-year-old self, to visualize my old room littered with teen magazines.

“Melanie Faye.” I choked on the name.

Lisa’s face went from pasty white to deathly gray in less than three seconds. She gave a firm nod as fresh tears streamed down her face. “I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. And I – I just wanted to help Ashton. I loved him. I was so jealous at first, and then when everything happened. I couldn’t abandon him.”

“She found me…” Gabe said in a low voice. “After I tried to overdose.”

“It was my idea.” Lisa looked down at the ground. “To run away. To leave our lives behind and start fresh, especially when we found out Kimmy was going to make it. The world that used to be so fun and shiny had become our own personal hell.”

Melanie Faye had been mentioned in magazines only because she’d been Ashton’s best friend. People always said they were dating but no one had ever actually confirmed it as truth. They had grown up next door to one another. She was a model; he was a triple threat Hollywood heart-throb. A match made in heaven.

I used to want to be her.

Because at fourteen I’d been obsessed with all things Ashton Hyde.

Fantastic.

“I, um…” I pushed away from the floor. “I need to go.”

Without looking back, I ran out of the restaurant, my chest heaving with exertion as my feet pounded against the pavement.

“Wait!” Gabe yelled from behind me.

I lifted my left hand mid-air, waving him off, pushing him away as I reached for the car door with my right, my breathing ragged. I couldn’t look at him. I just… couldn’t. I felt betrayed. Lied to. All I’d asked for was truth, and he’d given me lies.

A part of me understood the need to protect himself.

But I wasn’t one of those friends. The ones that you gave a sliver to while you sucked them dry.

That wasn’t friendship.

“What?” My voice cracked. “What more could you possibly say?”

“You promised.”

“Excuse me?” I turned in a flash, ready to slap the crap out of him when he stalked toward me.

I backed up out of total self-preservation. I didn’t trust my emotions around him, not when it was like staring at three different people. Was he Ashton, the famous actor and pop star? Was he Gabe, the wounded bird that just needed someone to talk to? Or was he Parker, the broken fiancé?

Gabe’s eyes were wild. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

“Funny.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Because I’ve already lost you. I lost Gabe. I never knew Parker. And now I’m losing Ashton all over again. I wonder how much more I can lose – before I’m empty.”

“Saylor—”

“I asked for truth. You gave me lies.”

“When?” He pulled me against his chest. “When did I lie to you?”

My mind searched for situations where he’d out right lied… and I came up with nothing. Absolutely nothing, except for one thing. “Your name.”

“I told you,” he muttered, his lips nearly touching mine, “I told you there were things I kept hidden – is this it then? You’re rejecting me?”

“Me?” I tried to jerk free. “Reject you? No, Gabe. That’s like saying I’m setting a caged bird free without ever being given the bird in the first place. What we had wasn’t real. You can’t base what we had on truth when nothing was actually real. God…” I started shaking. “I was falling for you. Falling for you, Gabe! How do you think that makes me feel? Do you even know who you are?”

“No.” He sighed. “I guess that’s the problem when you spend four years trying to forget.”

We stood in silence. So many words rushed through my head, things I could say that wouldn’t actually make anything better because at the end of the day, our worlds should have never collided in the first place.

“Saylor,” he pleaded. “Let me make it up to you. Let me tell you the truth – can I have one chance, one chance to come clean?”

“Why would I give you this chance?” I slowly pried myself free. “When you haven’t even made up for the tears you caused the first time? Why in the hell would I give you the opportunity to cause more?”

Gabe stared at me for a few minutes, his shoulders slumped. He nodded slowly.

And then he walked away.

He walked away.

And a part of me hated him for it. Because for once in my life I understood what it meant to be at a crossroads where someone either chooses you or them.

He didn’t choose me.

I was alone.

Just how I started.

Only now, I realized how lonely I actually was.

I wiped away a few more stray tears and got into my car. Rain started pounding against the windshield as I drove toward campus.

My life wasn’t over.

So why did it feel like it?

Chapter Thirty-Six

Sometimes by holding onto what you love the most – you end up choking the very life from the thing you want to keep on living. It’s possible to try too hard, to love something so deeply that you lose yourself. The danger is never in loving someone – but losing your identity in the process. Because what happens when tragedy strikes? You’re left an empty shell. You’re left with nothing. It’s why I tried to end things. Why I didn’t want to go on living – because I’d been living through her, not with her, and I had forgotten how to be myself. How to be normal. The only problem was — I was okay with it. —Gabe H.

Saylor

I took I5 and kept driving.

When I pulled up to the small subdivision in Mill Creek. I turned off my car and stared at my mom’s apartment.

Once we’d lived in a nice neighborhood, but because rent always went up over the years we moved around a lot.

Luckily, she was a nurse, so she had a good job, but still… We’d never had a ton of money, so we didn’t have a large home, just a different apartment every few years.

I grabbed my purse and slowly took the stairs to the third floor, two at a time, then let myself in the apartment. Everything was pristine. Clean. Beautiful. I hadn’t been back since Christmas, and even then I’d only slept there. I spent most my time on campus practicing.

“Say?” Eric walked down the hall, his smile wide. “Is that you?”

“Yeah.” My lower lip quivered. “It’s me.”

He was fifteen now, tall enough to be almost at eye level. His wide-set blue eyes looked me up and down. They were slanted just slightly, making his smile even warmer as he grinned.

And then he opened his arms. Just like that, I ran to them and started bawling.

“Shhh, Say, it will be okay. I promise. I promise, Say.” He rubbed my back and rocked me back and forth. “I’m sorry you’re sad.”

I didn’t trust my words, so I only nodded and clung to my brother like he was my lifeline. He was wearing a Seahawks sweatshirt and smelled like he’d just taken a shower.

“Mom’s home soon.” He released me and gave me one of those silly grins. “I’ve been cooking more.”

“Really?” I wiped my eyes.

He nodded. “Food makes things better.”

With a laugh I croaked, “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?”

“Sit,” he commanded, in his soft voice. “I’ll make you eat, Saylor.”

“Eric?”

He turned around, his eyes smiling just as much as his actual mouth. “What?”

“I’m glad I’m here.”

He shrugged and started pulling food out of the fridge.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

If only alcohol actually made you forget. Instead, I figured it would do nothing more than remind me of everything I wanted to bury far, far, away —Gabe H.

Gabe

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled as we all piled into Wes’s Porsche and made our way back to campus. “For ruining everything.”

Kiersten cleared her throat. “Well, at least it’s a birthday Lisa won’t forget.”

Wes chuckled. “How’s that for optimism?”

“She hates me.” I banged my head against the window, “How the hell am I supposed to deal with both my dad and making sure Saylor knows that—”

I stopped talking.

Wes cleared his throat. “That…”

Lisa squeezed my hand encouragingly.

“That—” My throat constricted. “Holy shit, I can’t even say it out loud! No wonder she hates me.”

“You…” Lisa said slowly.

“Love.” Wes added.

“Her!” Kiersten smirked at me through the rearview mirror.

“I’m not two.” I pressed my fingers against my temples. “Does anyone have any ideas? Wes? You know how I usually tell you to stop being such a wise ass?”

“Yup.”

“I need you to forget I said that.”

“Nope.”

I groaned again.

Wes pulled into his usual spot in front of the dorm complex. “Look, Gabe, I can’t fix this for you. None of us can. And trying to figure it all out tonight is going to do nothing but stress you out more. The only thing I will say is… your time’s up.”

“No shit,” I spat, wanting to hit something with my fist.

“Gabe.” Wes unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around. “It’s time. You’re done being Gabe. You were never him to begin with. You’ve always been Ashton – a name doesn’t change someone no matter how hard you want it to. Your identity is found in your heart. Not your job, not your status, your name, what your major is, how much money you have. Your heart has been the same the entire time. So, be who you’ve always been.”

“So pick one?” I shook my head confused.

“No.” Wes offered a sad smile. “Fuse them.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Sometimes you have to simplify in order to process. Eating an omelet while listening to my brother talk about football? Free therapy. —Saylor

Saylor

Eric fixed me the best omelet of my life then patted my hand and started jabbering on and on about football and all the different plays. From there, conversation quickly fell to the Seahawks.

“Russell Wilson.” Eric sighed dreamily then pointed a fork in my direction. “He’s better than Tom Brady.”

My mom chose that moment to open the door. She was in her pink nurse scrubs and looked like she’d had a bit of a rough day.

“Eric, how dare you say something against my Patriots!” She grinned and put her hands on her hips. “And what are you doing up so late, young man?”

Eric pointed at me.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Saylor!” She wrapped me in a giant hug and kissed my forehead. And just like that I was a little kid again, wanting my mom to fix things. Wanting a hug and a chocolate chip cookie with milk. “Is everything okay?”

Eric shouted. “She was crying, Mom, but I made her eat.”

“Thank you, Eric.” Mom beamed with approval. “Now, why don’t you go get ready for bed, alright? Can you do that for me?”

Eric started to pout, his lower lip stuck out as his forehead creased.

“Brush your teeth first. Remember to put in your retainer, then crawl into bed.” We’d learned early on that by just giving him an order of direction, he was able to accomplish basically anything, but if I was to tell him to go clean his room he’d throw a fit – the task was too big, too overwhelming. So I had to say things like, pick up your books first, then put them in your backpack, and then find your colored pencils.

“Fine, Mom.” Eric gave me one last hug and marched down the hall to the bathroom.

Mom took one look at me, offered her hand and led me to the couch. “What’s going on, sweetie? I hardly see you and suddenly you show up with tear-stained cheeks.”

“It’s a long story,” I croaked.

“Well…” She checked her watch. “We have all night.”

It took me three hours to explain. Part of me felt like I was betraying Gabe’s secret, while the other part needed someone to talk to so bad I didn’t really care all that much. Besides, my mom was a vault.

By the time I was finished, I was severely dehydrated, but I felt better. Mom didn’t say much, just nodded and listened.

Finally, when my voice was hoarse from talking, I waited for her to offer me advice.

“So?” I asked. “What do I do now?”

Mom’s smile erased some of my angst, but her words brought it right back to full force again. “I think that’s pretty clear, don’t you?”

“If it was clear, I wouldn’t be feeling like my life was over, sobbing on the couch and dealing with my heart getting ripped out of my chest.”

“Love.” Mom sighed and scooted closer. “It does that to you.”

“Mom, I’ve only known him for a few weeks—”

“Love has no time table, no rules. It is what it is, Saylor.” She gripped my hand in hers. “I’m not saying what this Gabe did was alright, Saylor. I’m not condoning any of it. What I am saying is that everyone deserves a second chance. That’s what life’s about.”

“But—”

“The thing about second chances,” Mom interrupted, laying a hand on my arm, “is we always walk into them assuming we’ll feel better, when nine times out of ten things get worse before they ever get better. If you give him another chance, it’s not going to feel good. It’s going to be painful. It’s going to be hard, but in the end, if things work out…” She shrugged. Her eyes seemed to shine with her smile. “…totally worth it. Wouldn’t you rather suffer for a few days – in order to gain the love of a lifetime? Given the chance, people say they’d suffer for two days if only the rest of their lives they could be happy. The reality? Most people quit after one hour because things prove too difficult.” Tears pooled in her eyes, “Don’t quit Saylor. It seems Gabe’s entire life has been summed up into that one word. People quitting on him, him quitting on himself. Don’t do what he expects.”

“But it hurts,” I argued, my voice shaking. “So bad.”

Mom cupped my face with her hands. “So use the pain.”

It was the same exact thing Gabe had said to me when we’d gotten into our second argument. What did that even mean? Use the pain?

“I don’t understand,” I mumbled.

“Don’t let pain keep you from moving forward. It shouldn’t stop your progress – it should drive it.”

I sighed and started picking at the blanket in front of me. “When did you get so wise?”

She smiled fondly. “I had a patient once.” Her eyes glazed over a bit. “The odds were against him in every way possible. I was in the room after his MRI. It broke my heart to see such a promising young man have his future stolen from him. And then the strangest thing happened. When I went to the door to leave – it was locked. I turned the knob and heard footsteps, and after the footsteps I heard him talking to someone. It was a lady. She had a beautiful voice, but it wasn’t her voice that struck me, it was the words.

“She said, ‘Sometimes when we think God has written the end, what he really means is the beginning.’” Mom wiped a stray tear from her eyes. “It’s haunted me, that phrase. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and still hear that woman’s voice.”

Mom licked her lips and gripped my hands. “How often do you think we write our own ending before the story is even finished? How often do we give up on ourselves when our lives are just starting? Things get hard and we immediately back away and assume that means we’re going in the wrong direction, doing the wrong thing. If anything, when the waters get thick, that’s our sign to keep going.”

“So you’re saying it’s not the end,” I whispered.

“It rarely is,” Mom replied.

We sat I in silence for a bit until the clock chimed. It was one a.m.

“Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“How long were you trapped in that room, anyways?”

I couldn’t read her face. She shifted in her seat and answered, “I wasn’t. Once I overheard that conversation, I tried the door and it wasn’t locked anymore. When I told the janitor, he said I must have been confused. That door doesn’t have a lock. It never did.”