Where the Road Takes Me (6 page)

BOOK: Where the Road Takes Me
12.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Blake,” she said again. Louder and firmer this time.

Her hands on my stomach flattened, and she pushed me away.

“What?” I asked, confused as all fuck.

She straightened up, adjusting her top. She pulled it lower, which only revealed more of her cleavage. Then, her words were like being doused with a cold bucket of water. “How’s Hannah?”

She got into her car without a word and drove off. Even after my dick move, I was still worried that she was too tired to drive, so I decided to follow her home. Only she didn’t go home. She drove to the restaurant we had gone to on Saturday night. But instead of going into the basement, she rang a buzzer next to the door. A minute later, Clayton, in nothing but his boxer shorts, opened the door for her. They greeted each other wordlessly, and she stepped inside.

I waited half an hour, like a stalker, for her to come back out. She never did. I drove home, but I couldn’t sleep. I replayed the night in my head over and over again. The thought of her sleeping with that Clayton asshole—kissing him, fucking him—I wanted to throw up.

I finally ended up going for a run. I skipped school and hung out with Josh the next day. I didn’t want to see her, not when I couldn’t speak to her.

Hannah called.

Eighteen times.

I never answered.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Chloe

“Busted.”

I froze in the hallway and looked over to see Mary sitting on the sofa, book in hand. “Crap.”

Her eyes narrowed, and it seemed that she was trying to keep her voice firm when she said, “You’re supposed to be at school, young lady.”

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” I said, though we both knew that wasn’t true.

Mary and Dean weren’t too strict with me. We had agreed that I would graduate and that what I did after that was up to me. They knew what my plans were for afterwards, and they supported them. The only rule was that I check in enough while I was there so that they knew I was safe, and I always made sure to do that.

I slumped down next to her. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed tight. “Did you stay at Clayton’s?”

“Yeah.”

“How is he?”

“He’s good. Lisa’s coming home from Savannah for the weekend so he’s excited about that.”

“Is she still enjoying it there?”

I nodded.

“And you?” she asked, releasing her hold. “How are you?”

“Good,” I answered, even though I knew it wouldn’t be enough.

And right on cue, “Chloe.” I saw what was coming next; I’d been expecting it for a while. “You just seem to be getting more and more distant lately, and I understand that. I do. But we miss you.”

“I know,” I said quietly.

She sighed and changed the subject. “So how was work?” She smiled widely, in such a way that I knew she knew something I didn’t.

“What do you know?” My grin matched hers. I couldn’t control it. I loved Mary and everything about her. I was so, so grateful that I had ended up there, with her and Dean, when things could’ve turned out so much worse.

“Who was that boy that was here Sunday morning? Are you guys dating?”

And just like that my mood switched. “No, we’re not dating. Honestly, I just met him that night.”

“Are you working with him?”

My eyes snapped to hers. “How—”

“I’ve seen him there before . . . when we’ve taken the kids. I’m not a perv.” She smirked. “But it’s hard not to notice a boy like that.” A part of me wanted to laugh and agree with her, but an even bigger part of me was afraid. She took my nonresponse and ran with it. “Does he go to your school?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” I shrugged and stood up. “I’m going to school; I should at least show up for a class or two.” I swiftly exited the room, then climbed the stairs faster than normal. If she had more questions, she kept them to herself. She knew I wouldn’t want to hear them.

I knew my future.

I knew my fate.

And I knew that I had absolutely no control of any of it. I’d learned to accept that and be thankful for what I did have. The things most people took for granted were the things I made sure to pay special attention to: sunrises and sunsets; driving with the top down—or just driving at all; being able to wake up and know that it was safe to play outside with the kids, and, in a world populated by dictators and strewn with war zones, I wasn’t surrounded by any of them. What I was surrounded by was an uncertain future. One in which I couldn’t muster the courage to have hopes and dreams. Because I knew they were unattainable. That part—I could live with.

But what I hated about the uncertainty was my inability to form meaningful relationships. Not so much with guys but with Mary and Dean and all the kids that came through there. The only one I had let in was Clayton, and that was because he had been there with me, helping to build the walls around both of us.

I couldn’t—and I wouldn’t—let anyone else close.

So when Mary had brought up Blake, I’d frozen and I’d shut down.

Because over the years of building walls and living my life one day at a time, I’d learned to accept my fate and never hope for more than what I had. I’d never questioned the way I thought about my life.

But Blake—he made me question it.

He made me want to change it.

To change my outlook.

And to change myself.

But I couldn’t.

And I wouldn’t.

Because one day, sooner rather than later, I’d be gone.

And I’d leave them all behind.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Chloe

He hadn’t gone to school yesterday. Not that I’d been looking for him, but his chair in the cafeteria had been empty. I’d heard his girlfriend, Hannah, telling people that he was with Josh and Tommy and that Tommy had been sick Monday night. I was glad that they had spoken and that he’d told her the truth.

He’d looked pissed when I had said that I didn’t want anyone to find out that we knew each other. High school was enough of a bitch as it was. I didn’t need people like Hannah as my enemy. I’d studied enough to pass my classes and moved on to the next day.

But he was there that day. Which I knew meant that I’d most likely see him at work, or earlier, as fate would have it.

I saw him when I showed up for gym class. “A special guest,” Coach Riley called him. “He’s here to teach us the fundamentals of basketball.” Fundamentals? We were eighteen. Seniors. If we didn’t know the fundamentals of basketball—living in Wilmington, North Carolina, home of
the
Michael Jordan—then it meant we didn’t ever care to learn. I, for one, did not care. Hannah, however, gushed, clapping her hands when she saw him. It must’ve been as much of a surprise for her as it was for me.

I kept my head down the entire time, trying to be inconspicuous. Even when he stood behind me and guided me on how to hold the ball and shoot from the free-throw line, I didn’t acknowledge him. Not even when I completely missed the shot and he said, “We’re gonna need to work on that. What’s your name?”

“Chloe,” I answered, my eyes never meeting his. I turned and walked to the end of the line. He said my name eight more times during class. I knew Hannah noticed. She glared at me the entire time in the locker room. But her glare changed to a smirk after I went to put on my shoes only to discover that they’d been drenched in water. I left before everyone else. Soaking-wet shoes and all. He was outside the gym doors, waiting. He called my name, but I kept walking. He knew that was the opposite of what I wanted. He knew, and he’d done it anyway. If he’d meant to piss me off, it worked—I was done with him.

His car was already in the lot when I pulled up. I stepped out and yanked down on the hem of my whore-size T-shirt. My boobs almost spilled out. Note to self: Make sure to get a larger size by Friday. If not, quit.

I walked into the building with my chin up, ignoring the fact that he rose to his full height from his lazy slouch against the desk when I walked in. He called my name. I didn’t care.

Flowers were waiting for me when I got to the snack bar. A huge pink balloon floated above them. The words “It’s a Girl” had been crossed out with a marker. Written underneath was “Thank you.” Josh walked out from the prep area and grinned. “It was all they had,” he explained, pointing to the balloon. He came up and wrapped his arms around me. I wasn’t expecting the embrace. “Thank you again,” he said, hugging me tighter. I hugged him back. I couldn’t not.

“Switch jobs?” Blake’s voice felt like a force field pulling us apart.

“Sure.” Josh shrugged, lifted the counter door and walked away.

Blake walked in after him. “You’re pissed at me?”

I turned my back on him, picked up the flowers and carried them to the storeroom, where I dropped my bag.

“Oh. So you’re pissed
and
ignoring me?”

I spun on my heels to confront him. But he was right there, towering over me. He blocked me in with both hands, palms against the wall, on either side of my head. Looking down at the floor, I said, “So you’re going to intimidate me into talking to you? That’s kind of a dick move, don’t you think?”

He dropped his arms and cursed under his breath. “I just don’t get you.”

“You don’t have to get me.” I raised my eyes. “All I asked was that you do the same thing that you’ve done for the past four years and just ignore me. Just pretend like I don’t exist. But you couldn’t do that. Was there a point to that little charade in the gym?”

“What is with you?”

“Nothing!” I lost it then. “I just want to get through the next few months unnoticed, like I’ve done my entire life, and I don’t want you to ruin that for me!”

“Why? What’s the big deal if people see you? If people notice you? So fucking what?”

“I don’t want people like your girlfriend—” I broke off. He didn’t need to know what Hannah had done.

“Hannah?” His eyes widened. “Did she do something to you?”

“No.” I shook my head quickly. “No, Blake. Nothing happened.”

He studied me for a second, evidently trying to decide whether to believe me or not. Then a fire sparked in his eyes. “Speaking of girlfriend,” he spoke through clenched teeth. “You want to tell me why you thought it was okay to kiss me Saturday night when you knew I had a girlfriend and you had a boyfriend?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend!”

“Oh!” He rolled his eyes. “So you drive to Clayton’s house in the middle of the night, he answers the door half-naked, and just lets you in because he’s
not
your boyfriend?”

“You followed me?”

“I wanted to make sure you got home safe. Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not changing the subject, asshole. I told you. I don’t have a boyfriend!”

“So what is it then? You guys just fuck whenever you want? No strings?”

“Fuck you.”

I tried to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm. “Tell me I’m wrong.” I could see the plea in his eyes, but I didn’t care.

“You’re wrong,” I told him.

“How?”

I let out a shaky breath. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I went to his apartment to sleep. I told you that I don’t like going home in the middle of the night in case the kids wake up.” I pried his fingers off my arm. “And it shouldn’t matter. Because you and I—we’re nothing. We never were, and we never will be.”

Blake

There had been this party last year. It had been the party to end all parties. Some guy had come home from college and hosted it. He’d said it was open to high school juniors and seniors but only a select few. Invitations had been sent out via Facebook. You had to show the evidence on your phone before you entered. It was
that
exclusive. Hannah was thrilled when I got an invite. She didn’t get one, but she was my girlfriend, so it automatically made her my plus one.

I told her that I had to help Josh out with something and bailed last minute. It was a lie. Truth was, most of my so-called friends just pissed me off. After the way Josh’s life had changed with Tommy, he needed the support of his friends, but they had turned their backs on him and his kid. So I didn’t really feel the need to spend my free time with a bunch of assholes, whose most important decision in life was what to drink and who to screw.

Apparently, Hannah had frozen me out for six days. I hadn’t even known until she’d told me. She had come over one day, ripped her clothes off, and we’d had sex. Afterwards, she’d said she’d forgiven me. I’d asked her what for. She’d said, “For ruining my chances of making college contacts.” Those had been her exact words.

Hannah and I worked because we used each other. She used me for social hierarchy. I used her for sex. It was an unspoken deal. And it had never mattered before. Not until now.

So, for six days Hannah had frozen me out, and I didn’t notice.

For six hours, Chloe did the same, and it felt like my life was over.

“Chloe, please.” I was begging, and I didn’t even care how pathetic I sounded. “Can you please talk to me? I’m sorry.” I reached around her, took the rag from her hands, and lifted it above my head.

She turned, eyeing it, but then her lips clamped shut and she crossed her arms.

She remained silent, so I spoke for both of us. “I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I was an asshole. I shouldn’t have asked to be in your gym class. I should’ve listened to you. It was a jerk thing to do. And I definitely shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions about you and Clayton.” I stopped to take a breath, then added, “I hate that you’re ignoring me.”

Our eyes locked. Neither of us speaking. Not with words anyway.

“It’s okay,” she finally said.

I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. My arm fell to my side, and she quickly swiped back the rag.

Turning around, she said over her shoulder, “You asked to be in my gym class?”

I sat on the counter while she wiped around me. I’d started to relax the second she acknowledged me. “Well, yeah. I mean, why do you think I was there?”

She nodded her head in understanding, but the rest of her movements slowed. She raised her eyes slightly, looking unsure. “Because you wanted to see Hannah?”

The tension came back. I covered her hand on the counter with mine, pleading with her to stop and give me her full attention. I needed her to
hear
me. “Chloe, I was there because I wanted to see
you
.”

She raised her head, and her eyes drifted shut. “Blake . . .” They snapped open, and a wall slammed down behind them. “You shouldn’t say shit like that.”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. The words weren’t there. Not yet. Swallowing the knot in my throat, I asked, “Like what?”

She didn’t respond.

We spent the rest of the cleanup in silence.

No skateboards this time.

I didn’t push her on what she meant because I already knew. And she was right; I shouldn’t be saying shit like that. But Chloe—she brought something out in me that had never existed before. She made me want to be there. She made me want to stay. It was as if she had reached inside me, taken my heart in her hands, squeezed tight, and made it start beating again. And it did—whenever I was around her, I could feel it thumping harder, faster.

All because of her.

“So I have a favor to ask you.”

As Josh turned the key in the lock to the bowling alley, Chloe and I both replied, “Sure.”

Turning to us, he chuckled. To me, he said, “I wouldn’t ask you. I’d just make you do it.” Then to Chloe, he said, “Hang out with us on Saturday night?”

Her eyes went wide and then locked with mine. I grinned from ear to ear.

“Well, actually, we
need
you to,” Josh added.

Slowly, her gaze trailed back to him. “You
need
me to?”

A low chuckle escaped. I was way too excited at the thought of seeing her outside school and work. I answered for him. “Yeah. You see Josh has one night a month without Tommy, and this Saturday is it.” I gently shoved her shoulder. “So now you have to come hang out with us or poor Josh . . . poor hardworking, single-teen-dad Josh is gonna get all upset.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, and a look of confusion took over. But behind that, I swore I saw the hint of a smile.

“Yeah,” Josh said, gently nudging her other shoulder. “You have to come.”

I shoved her shoulder again.

He did the same to the other one.

She took a step back. “What the hell?” She looked back and forth between the two of us.

“Come on, Not Abby. Hang out with us. I never see people my age. The last time I went to a party and someone tried to speak to me, I spoke goo-goo-gah-gah talk to them, and they thought I was high.”

We all laughed.

Other books

Horse Whispers by Bonnie Bryant
Sparkers by Eleanor Glewwe
Balto and the Great Race by Elizabeth Cody Kimmel
The Mighty Quinns: Jack by Kate Hoffmann
Twice as Hot by Gena Showalter
Promise Me by Deborah Schneider