Carry Me Home (7 page)

I
get to the front yard and I’m all alone. Why, when I want to go, get the fuck out of Dodge, am I annoyed Tanner doesn’t try to stop me? If he really wants this, why doesn’t he fight?

God, I’m like the girl who’s all, “I hate drama,” and keeps shoveling the shit on my soap-opera flame. It’s disgusting. I get to my rusty black truck, purchased for eight hundred bucks. It’s a total piece of shit, but I adore my big hulking baby. I call it Batman, because if a vehicle could brood, this one would take the cake. Plus, I love superheroes. I’m normally Team Marvel, but I’ll make an exception for Bruce Wayne. He’s my forever favorite.

“Where are you going?” Tanner dodges the driver’s side door as I throw it open.

“Away.” I jump into the cab and toss my bag on the seat. Does he really want to play twenty questions?

“You’re acting crazy.” He grips the handle, won’t let me shut it.

I shove my key in the ignition, turn, and nothing. Oh, come the fuck on. I do it again and same reaction. You have got to be kidding me. Batman is going to hell if he lets me down.

Hear that, old friend? Sell me out and it’s straight to the salvage lot with you.

One more try and the engine bangs, a less-than-optimal smoke cloud mushrooming from under the hood. Apparently, Batman has a “do not resuscitate” directive. He’s lived a long, full life, but to die now? I’m tempted to stick him in neutral and push him down the street for a sea burial.

“That didn’t sound good,” he says.

No shit, Sherlock.
I bang my head against the headrest, and once more for good measure.

“Want me to take a look?”

I roll my head in his direction. “You know much about cars?”

“No.” He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Not sure why I asked. Guess it made me sound manly.”

I punch the wheel. It feels good, so I do it again. Harder. Faster. I drill into the thing like I’m a mixed-martial-arts fighter on a ’roid-rage bender. I can’t stop even though I’m officially losing my shit. When Tanner puts his hand on my knee, I jump.

“I’ve lost it,” I mumble. “I’ve officially fucking lost it.” No point trying to be anything but brutally honest.

“It’s okay.”

“I know,” I snap. I’m not an apologizer. What’s done is done. I can’t change things. “Why are you still here?” I’m spoiling for a fight. A big, knockdown, dukes-up rager, and right now Tanner makes a worthy adversary.

“You need help.”

“And that’s your role right? The big helper? Look how well that turned out for Pippa.”

The silence shocks even me.

Too far. Way too far.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He’s quiet, mumbles so I can hardly hear him, and my anger evaporates.

“No.” I turn and grab his hand before he can pull it away. “I’m not right. I’m an asshole. That was the meanest thing I’ve ever said, and I’m sorry. I don’t know why, but something about you brings out the worst in me. You push all my buttons and…” I break off, because tonight he literally pushed my button. While now I’m at my worst, for those few seconds, with him, I was at my best.

“Ever wish we could meet again for the first time?” he whispers.

That’s when I notice how he touches me. Not with any intent. He’s not sliding up my inner thigh or giving me an insinuating squeeze. He’s just letting me know he’s here.

“I don’t want to fight you, Tanner.”

“So don’t.”

“I need to get out of town. Not just because of you. Fine, maybe you helped spark the sense of urgency. But I…My mom…”

“Delilah?”

“She called while you were in the bathroom. She invited me to meet my brothers. The boys, Tanner.”

He plants his other hand against the truck and leans in. “You have to go.”

“I know, but Batman’s toast. I don’t have cash for a new car. Everything extra went to pay for stupid Comic-Con. Mimsy’s gone for the week with her Toyota.” I’m trapped. “Maybe I could call Beth, but she lives in San Jose and…”

He tilts his head. “I’ve got a car, remember? Let me drive.”

I blink. “But you have stuff to do.”

“Not really.”

“What about skating?”

“What about it?”

“Aren’t you on tour?” He’s always on tour or going on tour.

“No.” Something’s final to his tone. There’s hurt there, a pain he doesn’t want me to poke.

How am I even considering this? I can’t bring Tanner Green to Nevada.

“My mom’s mixed up in heavy-duty stuff with people who aren’t really the sort to welcome strangers.”

“I know.”

Of course he does, because Pippa would have told him. She, Talia, and Beth didn’t know everything about Hoss, but they were at least peripherally aware of my mom’s new lifestyle.

“Can I drive you as far as Vegas? You can drop me with a buddy there and pick me up after.”

“For real?” I mean, that could almost work in theory.

“Yeah.” He frowns, his features tight. “I need to talk to my friend Ford.”

“Ford Koster?” Another skater god.

“Yeah.”

I don’t need a degree in rocket science to tell there’s unfinished business there. “Doesn’t sound like you want to.”

“What I want and what I need aren’t always the same.”

“Preach.”

“So grab your bag. Let’s go.” He steps back and makes room for me to come out.

“Now?”

He rubs his hands over his arms. “You wanted to hit the road, right?”

“It’s late.”

He gives me a long look. “Wasn’t stopping you before.”

I drag my bag onto my lap and fiddle with the handle. “I wanted to get away from Santa Cruz—get away from…”

“Me.”

“Truth circle?” I tuck my chin against my chest. “Yeah.”

“Look. Nothing needs to happen. I can control myself.”

Of course he can. That’s half the problem.

He talks fast now. “My aunt has a property up in the foothills near Tahoe. We’ll stop tonight. There won’t be any traffic, so I can make good driving time.”

“That’s kind of the long way around, but is also a terrible, awesome idea.” My kind of duality.

“So it’s your turn, Sunshine. In or out?”

“All in.” I refuse his hand, jump down on my own, and slam the door. The look he’s giving suggests maybe I’ve agreed to more than just a trip. Who does he think he is? The answer sparks inside me, an angry little flame, sucking all the oxygen in my brain.

Everything
isn’t a big fancy word, neither unusual nor interesting. Maybe it can just sit there on the side, out of trouble, able to be ignored.

W
e wind along Highway 17, through the redwoods, over the mountains that separate Santa Cruz from the South Bay. I keep my gaze fixed on the red brake lights ahead, drivers slowing on the hairpin corners. Good, because my inclination is to hit the gas hard, surge the engine to match the energy revving inside me. The college radio station loses reception as we dip down over the summit, and the song grows scratchy, starts to cut in and out.

Sunny switches off the volume without a word, and the silence grows and grows. We haven’t said a word since getting on the road. Does she regret this?

Do I?

I’m the opposite of impulsive. Even my skating suffers from that. It’s my Achilles’ heel. I overthink, mentally rehearse every move before I start. When we shoot videos, all the choreography works well. I can nail moves in fewer takes than anyone else. But in competitions, it can mess with my head. I’m not organic or spontaneous. Ford is different. When he gets in there, he’s all animal instinct.

I receive more attention, but in my gut I know he is the better rider.

That night, I let him goad me. Get under my skin. Finally, I taunted him back, dished up some of his own shit and nailed a trick I could do in my sleep. He went next and bailed hard. With his injuries, he’s out for at least the next six months, and his career could be over. Me? I won a title that I didn’t deserve. This should be his moment. Instead, he’s home in Vegas with a broken collarbone and arm, a shattered ankle. That’s why I’m going with Sunny, because I have to give him the prize money. He’s the real champion, not me. Plus, he’s got a girlfriend and a kid. He could use the cash more. It’s the least I can do for robbing him of his chance to break out.

“So…”

I startle at the sound of Sunny’s voice. Shit. Focus. I’m already on the interstate. Six lanes of traffic and zoning isn’t going to lead to anywhere good.

“Where exactly are we headed?”

“My aunt has a place in Nevada City and she gave me a key. I go up there sometimes, when I don’t want to come home.” Which has been more and more lately. People keep looking at me around Santa Cruz like I’m this big deal, like I’m something to aim for, a goal. A person who has made it.

At least with Sunny, we’re honest. She knows the worst parts about me, like what happened with Talia.

“Will you tell me about what went on with Pippa?” Sunny asks.

I almost swerve into the next lane.

“Whoa, there.” She braces her hand on the passenger side door. “Guess that’s a sensitive subject?”

“Yeah.” No one asks me about Pippa or ever even says her name anymore. People assume tragedy is catching. They are sorry for your loss but don’t want to get too close. They use codes like, “How are you doing with it all?” That means her though. My dead girlfriend. For so long I knew her. Loved her. Making it seem like her name is a curse feels strange, like that part of my life wasn’t real.

“I broke up with Pippa the day before her accident.” I say it out loud, the words I’ve never told anyone. The world doesn’t end. We’re still here, driving in the dark.

Sunny claps her hand over her mouth. “What?”

“I broke up with Pippa—”

“I heard you the first time. It’s just, Jesus. I had no idea.”

“No one does. She, me, I was…tired of the situation.”

“There was something going on with her, right? The last few years she felt off, but Stolfi girls can shut down hard.”

Don’t I know it? “Things started changing at the end of high school.” I clear my throat, tighten my grip on the wheel.

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to, but something is eating you from the inside.”

“Let me have some time?” I know she’s trying, and I appreciate more than she can know that she’s sharing the sweet side of herself most people don’t ever get to see.

“Take all you need.”

I drive in silence. Traffic around the East Bay is light, and Sunny gazes out the window. I’m grateful for the quiet. We’re passing Sacramento before I find the way to start.

“Pippa didn’t want anyone to know. This was her biggest secret.”

“Tanner.” Sunny’s hand settles on my shoulder. “She was my friend, too, remember. Pippa wasn’t the kind of girl who’d want you beating yourself up. It’s okay to talk.”

“She had a disorder, I think, because she couldn’t control it, but she wouldn’t get help or acknowledge anything. Things got so bad that she was finally ready to try. But the accident…” It’s hard to talk. Harder to breathe. I know I didn’t make any sense, but Sunny doesn’t ask me to clarify. She waits until I can continue.

“See, she thought she was ugly. Not how you hear girls talk sometimes, calling themselves fat or whatever. She actually believed there was something hideous about her appearance, defective even.”

Sunny turns to face me. “But she was—”

“Beautiful?”

“Yeah.”

“I know.” I take off my hat and flip it into the backseat. “Did you know she hated leaving her house?”

“She was kind of a homebody.”

“Because she didn’t like people looking at her, thought she was repulsive.”

“She never said a single bad thing about her appearance. Ever.”

“Because she didn’t want to draw attention to it. I tried to love her, but she hated herself so much.”

Sunny shakes her head and leans back in the seat. “Why didn’t Talia ever say anything?”

“She didn’t know, still doesn’t.”

“How is that possible?”

“I’m serious. No one knew. The only reason I think I did was because I…I’d try to touch her. She hated it.”

“Oh my God, Tanner,” Sunny says. “How long did this go on?”

“From the time she turned sixteen until she died. Finally, I told her that I was exhausted, that she needed to tell Talia or her mom and dad. She was embarrassed and scared.”

“Beth was her best friend. I don’t even think she knows.”

“Pippa was the best faker I’ve ever met.” I remember how she’d hide in her room, curled in a ball while I sat beside her trying to convince her to come to the skate park or go to a movie, anything. Then Talia would waltz in and Pippa would pop up, crack jokes, laugh. She could turn on the happiness show when she needed to, for others, but she couldn’t turn it on for herself.

“But you guys slept together, right? I mean you were together forever. Years. Our entire young adulthood.”

“We did. But not long after we started, there were rules.”

“Rules?”

“Of where I could touch. Some places were off-limits.” I swallow hard. This is getting difficult, like I’m taking Pippa’s dirty laundry and hanging it off the front fence. “I feel like I’m betraying her, telling you this.”

“You aren’t, but I get it.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t know you were carrying that.”

“She tried and tried, but couldn’t get better on her own. I should have said something to someone, but I didn’t want her to shut me out. I didn’t want her to feel like she had no one she could trust.”

“You tried your best.”

“I gave up.” My laugh is bitter. “Call a spade a spade, Sunshine. I gave up on her and then she died.”

“Nothing about her accident was your fault.”

“Afterward, people kept coming up to me saying, ‘Sorry about your girlfriend.’” My voice cracks. I have to swallow hard. “Then there was Talia. She always looked at me as if I were something special, not the guy who couldn’t fix his girlfriend. Pippa never said no if I tried to hook up. She’d just…endure it. Finally, I stopped trying. For the last two years of our relationship, we barely kissed.”

Sunny sets her hand on my leg. “Tanner—”

“And then what happened with Talia. I wanted to feel something so fucking bad.” I’m almost shouting.

Sunny pets me. “Wanting isn’t bad.”

“What I felt toward Talia was lust, not love.” I clear my throat. “Taking, not giving. And I’m so tired, so tired of taking from people. You want to know the worst thing?” I need her to know every shitty part of me.

“Okay,” she whispers.

Might as well put it all on the line. “Sometimes, over the last few years, I wished for you instead.” I give her a quick sideways glance, her features veiled by the dark.

“Most guys would never have stood by her as long as you did, not by a long shot.”

I wait, but she doesn’t add anything else. “You aren’t saying anything about what I just said. About wanting you.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know how to process that. I honestly thought you judged me.”

“Judged you? I was jealous as hell of you with other guys and felt guilty, because how messed up is it to want my girlfriend’s friend?” It’s hard to keep my eyes on the road, to focus, but I need to. I have to keep Sunny safe, can’t afford to get distracted.

“Way messed up.”

My grip increases on the steering wheel. “I’m not a good guy, Sunny.”

“You have provided evidence to the contrary.”

“There’s so much I’m not proud of.”

“Me too, but maybe, I don’t know…” Sunny’s quiet for a moment. “Maybe that’s okay. As long as we’re trying to do things with grace.”

“I don’t know how to move past this, how to let go.”

She moves her hand to the back of my neck, massages the tightly corded muscles. “If you do, who knows? Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“What’s that?”

“Yourself.”