Thin White Line (14 page)

I hate to see her go. “Text me later, okay?” I ask.

“So...where are we going to dinner?” I ask after I close the door behind Brooke.

“How about take out?” Cole asks, his feet up on the coffee table. My mom has put on a pair of sweats while I’d been in my room with Brooke.

She looks exhausted.

I take an order and drive about ten blocks into the heart of downtown. I pass by a large park and think about what Deklan said about the tattoo parlor he works at. Hadn’t he mentioned a park?

Finding the Chinese restaurant, I park and go in to get the order. On my way home, I drive back the same way, but this time I take a right on Eighth Street. I see Deklan’s truck parked behind an older, three-story building. A neon sign in the window reads,
Branded
.

Outside of the place are about five people and I slump down low in my seat, hoping Deklan isn’t among them. They are all busy smoking and talking; with a quick glance I realize none are tall enough to be Deklan.

Hadn’t Brooke said he’d done tattoos last night? She didn’t mention anything about tonight, but then again, I don’t know Deklan’s schedule.

I wonder, once again, about the redhead from last weekend and can’t help wondering if they are dating now.

I hate the thought of him going out with anyone.

Why should I care?
I ask myself the rest of the way home.

Mom and Cole are watching television. There’s an awkward silence as I set the food on the table. Throughout dinner Mom nurses another bottle of wine and Cole watches her closely. Once or twice his gaze would meet mine, but he never says anything.

Welcome to my life,
I want to say...but I don’t.  It just gets added to the rest of the things that I don’t feel I can say.

Cole is set to leave at five o’clock on Sunday. An hour before Mom is to take him to the airport, he knocks on my door and opens it before I can tell him to come in.

“What’s up?” I ask, pushing my laptop away. I’ve been stressing about the report I’ve been procrastinating about for weeks now and I have only just finished it.

He shuts the door behind him. “Mind if I sit?”

Before I can respond, he plops on the end of the bed. “I’m worried about Mom. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything to her about Dad’s visit.”

“She would have found out about Dad’s visit to Seattle eventually. It was better coming from you than anyone else.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “I’m worried about you, too.”

Now that surprises me. “I’m fine.”

His hand slides over the stubble at his jaw. “You’ve changed, Kenz.”

I have seen him watching me these past couple of days. “I suppose I have. It hasn’t exactly been a great change of lifestyle here.”

“I know it’s been rough. You’ve lost weight, you barely eat, and you seem...well, distant.”

My nails dig into my palms. “Stress will do that to a person.”

“Are you doing drugs?” he blurts.

My pulse skitters. Those are the last words I expected to hear from him.  “No. Why would you think that?”

“Brooke looked high last night. I know the signs, Kenz. Her eyes looked glassy and she had small pupils. Mom tells me you two have become really close and well, I just worry that maybe you’ve gotten a little too involved…”

“I haven’t,” I tell him, forcing myself to keep eye contact with him. What was I so paranoid about? I had done drugs a few times and yeah, I was taking some of Mom’s anti-anxiety medication to help me chill out, but it’s not like I have a problem. I suppose I have lost a few pounds in the weeks since I arrived in Vancouver, but who wouldn’t if they had their life uprooted?

“I know this divorce has been harder on you because you’re still under Mom’s roof.”

It is harder on me because my dad hasn’t been bothering to acknowledge I am alive and my mom is a miserable shell of her former self.

“I just want you to know that drugs definitely aren’t the way to go. Do you remember Ricky Johnston?”

“Yes.” Ricky had been a neighbor of ours. He and Cole had been good friends during middle school.

“Our senior year, he took a pill and it fucked up his head.” I don’t remember anyone talking about it. “One day he was going to our school and the next he was gone. His mom sent him to rehab. Didn’t work, though. He continued using and, last I heard, he was living on the streets of L.A.”

“That’s sad,” I say, wondering if Cole does drugs with his friends from time to time.

“Just please be careful and, if you need anything, I’m just a phone call away. I mean it, Kenzie.”

He gives me a hug and, when he leaves, I feel a sense of relief. All weekend I felt like I’d been walking on eggshells. I hate that he asked me about drugs. I can only hope that he won’t bring it up to Mom on the way to the airport. I so don’t need her up my ass, nor do I need her worrying about me when she is trying to keep herself sane.

I watch as they walk out the door, lock the front door, and then I head to my mom’s bathroom, where I take a few more pills from her medicine cabinet.

CHAPTER 13

My mom comes home from the airport, drinks half a bottle of wine, stares out the window and cries.

I put my hand on her shoulder and she puts her hand over mine. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess right now, Kenz. You deserve a better life than the one I’m giving you.”

“My life is just fine,” I say. It really isn’t okay, though.

I try to engage her, but she goes straight to bed. She stops long enough to put a ten dollar bill on the table and tells me to get a hamburger.

The door to her room shuts minutes later and I glance at the clock. Seven o’clock. Way too early to call it a night. I call Brooke and it goes straight to messaging. She texts me a minute later saying she’s working on her math assignment and Curtis is dropping by in an hour, but she’ll call me later.

I dial Ryder’s number, but hang up. I scroll through my friend’s numbers, call Ange and she answers, sounding excited to hear from me.

We talk for an hour and, for that time, I’m transported back to a happier time. We actually laugh before I have to fight back tears when her mom tells her that she needs to get to bed, reminding me of when I had an eight o’clock curfew on school nights.

I hang up the phone and see my dad’s contact information. My finger hovers over his phone number.
Would he pick up?
I wonder. We still have our old numbers. Mom has been telling me for weeks that she will get us both new Washington state phones and, yet, I have a feeling she’s worried that Dad couldn’t reach her anymore.

Maybe this week she will change her mind and move forward with her life. 

I snatch the money off the kitchen counter and head out the door.

After passing by four fast food places, I decide I’m not really that hungry and could pocket the money for next weekend.

I end up calling Sadie, but it goes straight to voicemail. I don’t bother leaving a message.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I drive towards Ryder’s house. It’s Sunday evening and his mother will be at church, so hopefully, I’ll have a few minutes.
Hopefully, he’ll be in the mood to talk and maybe I can get a hug as well as a few kisses,
I think with a sad smile.

Earlier this week, Ryder said he wanted to see me this weekend and, although he hasn’t made a big move to reach out to me, I convince myself that maybe he’s just trying to be polite since my brother was in town. Or maybe, Brooke told him that I’m basically under house-arrest while Cole’s home.

I’m halfway up the road when I see Ryder’s house, his Acura in the driveway...along with another car that’s familiar.

I frown. What is Sadie doing here? I asked Ryder once about siblings and I think he said he had a younger brother who is like twelve. So the only reason for her to be there would be to see Ryder, but she never seemed interested in him before.

I drive past the house before getting the nerve up to pull into a parking spot.

My heart pounds hard against my chest as I walk up the sidewalk and into the driveway. Inside the house there are no lights on, but I can hear music coming from the detached garage that sits a good thirty-feet from the back of the house.

I hear Sadie’s laughter coming from the same direction.

Without a second thought, I march straight to the door and am ready to knock when the low laughter makes me pause. My hand fastens on the door handle and I turn it.

Locked.

I swallow. Everything within me tells me to turn and run back to my car. I don’t want to know what is happening. I’ve only been around Sadie a couple of times, but I know the sultry chuckle.

I don’t have a good feeling...

A side window is open the slightest bit.

I glance back over at the house. There are no other cars in the driveway. I lean in and I can see a futon set up in a corner. Obviously, Ryder uses this space for practice. His guitar sits propped up against the wall and there is a stand that holds a big screen television and state-of-the-art stereo equipment.

Someone is spoiled.

Ryder sits back against the futon and he is looking up at someone, a wide smile on his gorgeous face.

A girl straddles him, her hands splaying on his chest, moving down towards the belt buckle.

Ryder’s hands slide around her waist and then up her chest; his hands cupping her breasts.

Her hands move frantically to get him out of his pants and the motion of her right hand lets me know what she’s doing now.

She sits up slightly, sits down slowly and they both moan in unison. Ryder closes his eyes in ecstasy.

I take a quick step back.

The pain is crushing.

I don’t get it. How long have Ryder and Sadie been hooking up?

I’m sure Sadie had been at Deklan’s last night. 

How dare she pretend to be my friend and then fuck my boyfriend behind my back. Or is he even my boyfriend? Sure, he held my hand in the hallway because he thought I was pissed at him, but apparently, he isn’t that worried about what I think.

I want to pick up one of the rocks by my feet and throw it at the window.

Maybe that will get their attention.

The sounds of lovemaking float out to me. I dare to look in one more time to see Sadie with her hands in Ryder’s hair, riding him and very vocally, too.

With the image burning in my brain, I rush for my car, praying that no one sees me.

***

Branded
is in a large space that has been converted into a gothic palace, complete with a spider-web gate that opens into the back. The walls have been painted a dark red, and there are black and white portraits of cemeteries hanging throughout. Definitely macabre. One of the glass cases holds old medical relics, while the other is stock-full of earrings and gauges of every conceivable size and color. I like the darkness of the entire place; it fits my current mood perfectly.

There are four tattoo stations set up, but only one station is occupied by a menacing looking bald man with a goatee doing a side tattoo and a twenty-something guy he is tattooing, who looks pretty relaxed for someone getting inked.

The artist glances up, tattoo gun poised in mid-air. “Can I help you?”

“Is Deklan here?” I ask, shifting on my feet.

“He ran across the street to pick up dinner. He’ll be back in a second. Do you want to hang out and wait?” He motions towards a black Victorian fainting couch.

I wonder if I should stay or just leave while I have the chance. I sit down before I can talk myself out of it.

The sound of the tattoo gun continues as I wonder what the hell I’m doing here and what I’m going to say. Ryder is Deklan’s best friend. Hell, they call themselves brothers half the time.

I stand, heading for the door, but Deklan walks in and stops short when he sees me. He’s wearing a navy blue shirt and dark jeans. His hair is styled but messy, looking like he’s been dragging his fingers through it. “Hey, Kenzie, what are you up to?”

I can tell by his expression he’s surprised to see me and I feel like an idiot, especially when the man in the booth stops tattooing and looks over at us. “Everything alright?” he asks.

“Yeah, we’re fine, Uncle Steve.” Deklan’s attention returns to me. “You hungry?”

“Don’t be going and giving her my rice bowl now, Deklan,” Steve says with a smile.

“No worries. I’ll share mine.”

Uncle Steve winks and continues tattooing.

“I’m headed back to your office,” Deklan tells him over his shoulder and I follow him through the gate and into the first office on the left. Surprisingly, the office isn’t at all like the rest of the shop. It’s littered with motorcycle memorabilia.

“I hope you don’t mind if I eat. I have a nine o’clock appointment.”

I shouldn’t have come. “Of course I don’t mind. Go ahead. In fact, I’ll come back another time. I just…”

“Stay,” he says and I know he means it by his expression. “Please.”

I nod.

He pours sauce that comes in a plastic container over the chicken and rice.

It smells incredible, but I don’t have an appetite.

“What’s up?” he asks, his green eyes so intense, I feel like I can see straight to his soul.

I wanted to see you. To feel the comfort that I feel whenever I’m around you and to tell you that your best friend is the biggest asshole on the face of the planet.
Instead, I clear my throat and blurt, “I just wanted to see the place.”

He nods, takes a bite and chews slowly, waiting for more. Apparently, he isn’t buying the story that I just wanted to see
Branded
. “What’s wrong?”

God, is it that obvious?

I’m on the verge of tears. Everything seems to hit me at once. My dad’s midlife crisis, my mom’s depression, my cousin, and maybe even my own, obvious drug problem; not to mention my “boyfriend’s” cheating bastard ways with one of my so-called friends.

My throat convulses as I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat.

Setting the fork down, Deklan asks, “What happened?”

I’m obviously here to talk, so I just blurt it out. “I went by Ryder’s house...and he was with Sadie.”

The reaction I expected doesn’t happen. Instead, Deklan doesn’t so much as blink. There is nothing. No reaction, except he starts chewing on the lip ring.