October Breezes (20 page)

I stumbled home, trying to escape where sadness would never find me. Through my bleary vision, I saw my mom’s and Warren’s cars in the driveway. “Get a grip on it,” I told myself.

The minute I opened the door, both Mom and Warren met me. “What happened? The secretary caled an hour ago and said that Ms. Darrow wanted to see you first thing in the morning.” She frowned and touched my face. "Where's your coat? It's freezing out there."

“I forgot it in my locker, and I already spoke to Ms.

Darrow.”

“What’s going on?”

I shrugged. “There was a fight.” I brushed past her, heading to the kitchen.

“What did that have to do with you?” Mom folowed me, and Warren came with her.

I set my books on the counter. “Devin was involved, and Ms. Darrow knows we're friends.” I walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a soda.

Mom handed me a glass that I filed with ice. “Skye, we’ve known Devin practicaly since you two started school. He’s not the violent type. What happened?”

While popping open the can, I broke a fingernail past the quick. I looked at my finger, watching blood ooze from beneath the skin. “He and Kelin hate each other. Devin was trying to protect me.” I took a deep breath.

The phone rang, interrupting our conversation. Mom grabbed it. “Helo? Yes, Ms. Darrow. She’s here.” Mom cut her eyes toward me as she spoke. I stuck my finger in my mouth, trying to ease the stinging. “Yes, she’s fine. Is there some reasons she shouldn’t be.” Mom paused, listening. “I’l speak with her. Thank you.” She disconnected the cal and faced me. “Ms. Darrow said you had an episode in her office.”

I shook my head. “It was nothing, Mom. I have a migraine. It’s probably a left-over side effect from the punch.” I took a drink of soda.

"Ms. Darrow said that Devin was trying to protect you."

Mom folded her arms across her chest. “Why would he need to protect you from Kelin?”

“He doesn’t, anymore.” I set the glass on the table.

“Kelin and I broke up this morning.” I tossed the can into the recycle container. “So there’s realy no point in worrying about anything, is there, Mom?”

"You tel me, Skye. You stil haven't explained Devin's behavior." Mom frowned at me.

I forced down the last sip and put the glass in the sink.

“No, there isn’t anything more to worry about. I lost both my boyfriend and my best friend in the same day.” I shrugged.

"But that stil doesn't answer why Devin needed to protect you. What made him go after Kelin?"

I chewed my lower lip. "I don't know."

“Perhaps you should talk to him.”

I shook my head. “There’s nothing to say. He doesn't even want to talk to me.”

Mom walked up behind me and set her hand on my shoulder. “Does that mean you shouldn’t try?”

“Does it mean I should, knowing he’l never forgive me?”

I headed to my bedroom, half expecting her to folow. When I realized she wasn’t coming, I shut the door.

How many choices would I make which would destroy
others?

I lay on the bed, crying. Someone softly tapped on the door and when I didn’t answer, Warren slowly opened the door and poked his head inside.

“You okay?”

“I’m not sure.” I wiped my face and turned away.

"Can I come in?" he asked and I nodded. He sat on the bed, frowning. “Maybe your mom is right. Perhaps you are. But you won’t know what is possible if you don’t try.”

I licked my lips. “Did you ever do something that went so wrong you would have given anything to take it back?”

Warren edged toward me and rubbed my back. “We al have, Skye. Sometimes the only thing you can do is learn from the mistakes.”

For the first time in my life, I felt like I had a father—a real one who cared what happened. The way he rubbed my back made me feel as though I were five again, and adults had al the answers; no problems existed they couldn't fix.

“I won't be able to apologize to Devin anyhow. He’s been suspended.” I clutched a pilow with both hands.

“I bet your mom would let me drive you to his house for a few minutes.”

I sat up and drew my knees to my chest. “Why are you so nice to me? I’ve been nothing but a pain since you started seeing my mom. Why should you care about this?”

“It’s not just ‘this’ I care about, Skye. I happen to care about you.” He picked up the novel he’d given me. “I gave you this book because I knew you were judging me. But I also knew you were using a flawed standard--a father who didn't stick around. The best you thought you could hope for was that I’d hang around and keep you at a distance, like some kind of step-child I'd never accept. You never thought I'd treat you like a daughter and that I wouldn't have settled for anything less. We al make judgments, Skye, sometimes about others and sometimes about ourselves. I just want you to judge me according to what I say and do.”

“You stil going to marry Mom?”

He set the book on the shelf. “I’d like to, but she wants to take things slow and make sure everything is right. I can live with that. The question is, can you?”

“Yes.”

Warren stood. “Would you like to visit Devin?”

“Yes.” I walked to the window and wrapped my arms around my body, wiling myself not to cry.
I’m just not sure what
I’m going to say.
As Warren walked to the door, I said,

“I’m realy glad you’re here.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Me, too.” He looked at my bare feet. “Get your shoes on and come downstairs.”

He closed my door, leaving me to figure out what to say. Trouble was, no words would suffice, but I had to try.

By the time I had slipped on my tennis shoes, donned my coat, and walked downstairs, Warren already waited at the door.

As he caught sight of me, he jangled his keys. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” In the kitchen, I heard Mom loading the dishwasher. “She's okay with this?”

He slipped his arm around me. “I got her on a technicality.

I told her you weren’t going to Devin’s to have fun but to apologize.

So it became part of your punishment." He looked at me, and we both grinned devilishly. "Now let’s go before she changes her mind.” He opened the door and ushered me out. As we headed to the car, the front walk glistened with ice. Thinking myself too sure-footed, I tumbled to the ground. My ribs ached, and I gasped.

Warren leaned over me, frowning in concern. "Are you al right?"

It took a moment for my breath to catch and for me to force the pain back into hiding. "I'm fine. Just clumsy."

"You said it, not me." He laughed and helped me up. Then I brushed my hand across my backside, thinking it was a good thing it was dark because my butt was wet from the ice.

“You’re sneaky to come up with this plan!” I said, laughing.

“Desperate times cal for desperate measures.” He snapped his seatbelt buckle and started driving.

A moment later, we puled up before Devin’s house.

Although the interior lights glowed through the windows, no exterior lamps lit the yard. Devin’s parents’ vehicles sat in the driveway, and behind his dad’s black Explorer sat Devin’s car.

I plucked a few fuzz bals from my sweats. “What do I say?” I whispered.

“The truth.” Warren shifted to park. “Would you like me to walk with you?”

I nodded slowly, hoping when the time came to talk to Devin, he'd return to the car and give us a few moments alone.

Warren opened his door. “Wel, what are we waiting for?” He stepped out, forcing me to join him. Together we ambled up the walk, and I zipped my coat, trying to block the cold air. I rang the doorbel and waited.

The porch light flickered to life. Mrs. Abbott answered.

“Skye? What are you doing here? Devin is grounded and can’t come out.” While she didn't seemed especialy glad to see me, she wasn't angry, suggesting that Devin hadn't told her al the specifics about the fight.

Warren stepped up. “She came to apologize to Devin.”

She frowned. “An apology? For what, Skye?”

I brushed the hair from my face. “There are some things going on at school, and I haven’t been the kind of friend that I should have.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I know he’s grounded.

So am I. It would mean a lot if I could talk to him for a few minutes. Please?”

She looked from me to Warren and back. “Al right. I'l give you five minutes.” She disappeared into the house.

Warren tapped my arm. “I’l wait for you in the car.”

“Okay.” I watched him return to the car and then turned to the door where Devin appeared, wearing a softbal jersey with red sleeves. He shook his head as he walked to the door, his expression darkening as he realized who waited for him. Glaring balefuly, he stepped onto the porch and puled the front door closed behind him.

“You’ve got a hel of a lot of nerve showing up here.” He folded his arms across his chest. He leaned against the wal. "What do you want?"

“Devin, I’m sorry. I’m realy, realy sorry.”

He turned away. “Yeah, sure. You feel better now that you’ve confessed your sins?” His eyes narrowed to slits, and he swalowed hard; I watched his Adam’s apple move. “Why in the hel are you even here, Skye? Haven’t you done enough damage?”

I took a deep breath, wondering what I could say to make things better. “I know you were angry at Kelin.”

Devin grabbed my shoulders, barely avoiding the bruises Tyler had left. “You think that was anger? No, that was pure rage.

I wanted to kil him. God help me, I wanted to after al the things he said about you. Did you know how easy you were, Skye? The whole team was lining up for you. Did you know that? He talked about the only reason a girl like you exists. And you had the nerve to stop me from beating the shit out of him? You even took up for him.” He shook his head and dropped his hands. “Just go home. I won’t bother any future boyfriends who might talk about your open-leg policy.”

I cringed. “I deserved that. Except it wasn’t Kelin who spread those rumors. It was Tyler.”

He laughed, a holow, caustic sound that echoed loudly.

“That’s rich, Skye. But even if it is the truth, it doesn’t matter. For as long as we’ve known each other, there hasn’t been a thing I wouldn’t do for you. But this is too much.” He glared at me, his arms folded across his chest. “Kelin’s family is probably pressing assault charges, and I might not be back at school until next semester, anyway. Congratulations, Skye. It’s official. You’ve ruined my life.”

Without waiting for a response, he slipped inside and slammed the door. I kept staring, hoping he would open it and say he'd been a joking, but I knew better. Devin never said things he didn't mean.

Slowly, I walked to the car and got in. Leaning against the seat, I clenched my eyes shut, trying to make the world disappear.

“So what happened.”

“He said I ruined his life.” I shook so hard, and even breathing took effort.

Warren patted my knee. “I’m sorry, Skye. I wish it could've different."

“Me, too.”

For the next few weeks I lived on autopilot, just trying to get through and hoping my life would return to normal—whatever that was. Mom gradualy eased up as she realized I hadn’t planned a repeat performance. My ribs slowly mended, and each day I started to feel less sore.

The hardest part of each day wasn’t ignoring Tyler or the cheerleaders but sitting alone in the library at lunch. More than once I consoled myself into thinking that time could smooth our broken friendship, but if giving us time to heal didn’t do it, I didn’t know what would.

Three weeks after my date from hel, Warren grabbed my arm after dinner and said, “Hey, Skye, let’s go for a drive.”

I looked at Warren and back at my mom, who raised her hands in protest. “Don’t look at me. I know nothing.” So I grabbed my coat and we headed out the door.

“Where are we going?” I noticed snowflakes landing on his colar. “It’s snowing!” I shrieked.

Peering at the heavens, he said, "I realy love snow."

"Me, too."

“Good. We might be able to have a snowbal fight if it sticks.”

“Where are we headed?” I asked again.

“You’l see.” Some time later, he puled into a theater parking lot where a kiler romantic comedy I was dying to see was playing.

“What are we doing here?”

“Your mom said you might like to see a movie, so I figured I’d take you. Is that al right?” Although his tone was neutral enough, he studied my face, awaiting my approval.

“It’s more than al right.” Without thinking about it, I leaned against him and he slid his arm around me. “It’s perfect.”

By the time the movie had ended, a thin layer of snow covered everything. As we arrived at the car, I scooped the snow from the hood and packed it into a bal. Then I tossed it at Warren, hitting his shoulder.

Warren grinned. "Al right. You asked for it." He, too, gathered snow, squished it into a bal, and threw it at me, striking my back Squealing, I bent over and started again, knowing he did the same Moments later, we chased each other around the car, pummeling each other as more flakes silently drifted to the ground.

By the time we’d finished, snow spotted our jackets from where the bals had struck. Although I'd thrown more snowbals, Warren was a better shot, unrelenting.

Finaly, I shouted, "Truce?"

Warren waved the snowbal round. "Okay." He acted like he was going to drop it, then pegged me. "Now we can have truce,"

He said, grinning.

What I remember of that night was a quiet man who loved my mom and me enough to share our lives. Maybe he wasn’t my biological father, but if I’d learned one thing, biology had little to do with being a real father. Biology might cause reproduction, but that didn’t necessarily include love.

The next morning I enjoying the rough spray of hot water during my shower. But three or four minutes later, my vision began dimming and the dizziness hit. By the time I’d turned off the water and crawled out of the shower, I couldn’t see, and I felt like I was going to faint. I lay on the tile floor, waiting for the blackness to recede. It did. At first, I didn’t want to get up and chance the dizziness returning, but I couldn’t stay on the floor. Finaly I forced myself to dress. I thought it was a fluke, yet a few days later, I started vomiting, sometimes before school, sometimes during class, when I had to hastily excuse myself and dash for the bathroom.