“Push the baby bird out of the nest?”
She winked. “I was gonna say get laid. But yours is good, too.”
We all laughed, and then she continued, “Look, Bran. In all seriousness, it is time to shove me out of the nest. Maybe I’ll fall straight to the ground. But if that’s the case, it’s time for me to pick myself up on my own. But, hey, you never know. Maybe I’ll fly.”
We were silent for a moment. I let her words sink in. If only my decision had only been about her, things would be so simple.
“I don’t know if it changes things with me and Clay, but thanks for that,” I said, hugging her.
She squeezed me back, hard, and while our arms were still around each other, said, “No prob, Bob. And, um, I realize I probably should’ve said this before I gave that big Wind Beneath My Wings speech, but, uh…can I borrow ten bucks for gas next week?”
Chapter 42
Brandy
I wanted to study. I really did. But it was hard to concentrate when all I could think of was Clay. Ever since “study” group, all I’d been able to think of was whether he was still in Arcata or if he’d already left.
This shouldn’t matter to you, dumbass! You broke up with him. Remember?
No matter how many times I reminded myself of that fateful fact, it was never enough to make me stop caring.
My cell phone chimed and I dug it out of my messenger bag. What the hell, it wasn’t as if I was getting a ton of work done, anyway.
My heart stopped for a moment when I saw who it was.
Clay.
My heart took a drastic U-turn in speed when it went from completely stopped to racing in a split second.
I had to work to keep my breathing on an even keel. I didn’t want to get lightheaded. Well. More lightheaded than I already was, at any rate.
I swiped the screen to view the message.
“Hey. I have something to tell you. 5) 4 Kids 0 Sex 4) Deaf 3) Jack Mormon 2) Trail Blazer 1) Love is Everywhere.”
That did nothing to make my heart slow down. Instead, it brought tears to my eyes.
He’d remembered our picnic conversation, right down to the tiniest detail. When I’d said one of the things I loved to do was list my top five episodes of podcasts that I was into.
That’s what he was doing for me. I recognized those titles. They were episodes of Beautiful Stories from Anonymous People.
My thumbs hovered over the keypad, itching to reply. But not only was I at a loss for what to say that would walk the perfect fine line between heartfelt and lighthearted, I also didn’t know if it was fair to lead him on by flirting over text when I was the one who’d broken up with him.
It was all so confusing.
The one thing I knew, though, was that I felt a nearly overwhelming urge to type back. It took pretty much all my strength to resist.
Another box popped into the text thread with a whooshing sound.
“5) Sleepaway Camp 4) Color of Night 3) The Boy Next Door 2) The Glimmer Man 1) Face Off.”
I laughed out loud. I recognized those titles, too. Sure, they were all movies. But they were also all fan-freaking-tastic episodes of the podcast How Did This Get Made?
I gave in to my urge to text back. “Keepin’ it pretty tight in the Earwolf family, huh?”
The telltale three dots appeared immediately, letting me know he was typing a message back. “Do you want me to branch out to Nerdist? Because I will. Don’t test me. I’m totally willing to do that.”
I shook my head, a huge grin on my face, and started to reply—then stopped myself. Was this really a good idea? My gut churned with all the conflict within it.
Before I could come to a decision, another message appeared. “Or, how about a curveball. NPR. Betcha didn’t see that coming. I’ve got episodes of Wait Wait…Don’t Tell Me lined up and ready to go.”
My entire body trembled with the effort it took to press the switch that would put my phone to sleep, and put it away in my bag instead of typing out a reply, but that was exactly what I forced myself to do.
This wasn’t right. We couldn’t go back and forth in this “are we friends, are we more, are we…what?” no man’s land. It wouldn’t allow either one of us to move on, and it definitely wouldn’t help me with my problem, which was how to get him out of my mind long enough to focus on my responsibilities.
I picked up my pen and shook my head to clear it. I was going to focus, and concentrate. Damn it, I was going to force myself to study if it freaking killed me!
I hadn’t gotten any more than a few sentences in when I heard my phone chime again.
Ignore it! I ordered myself, but it was no use.
I dug the phone back out of my bag and swiped at the notification.
It was from Clay. Of course. “5) Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band 4) The Wall 3) Tommy 2) The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars 1) Pet Sounds.”
Oh, God. My heart squeezed like a steel band was being tightened around it.
That was a list of concept albums. Clay’s favorite concept albums, apparently.
And it was almost exactly the same as mine.
Chapter 43
Brandy
I’ve become a cliché! The one thing I never wanted to be, and now I don’t even care.
Even though the observation of my cliché status popped through my head as I lay in bed, where I’d been all day, eating Chunky Monkey and listening to Tori Amos while morosely paging through selfies of Clay and me on my iPhone—well, I just couldn’t make myself give a damn. Clichés got that way for a reason, and I now knew that this one had a very good basis in reality. All of these stereotypical “heartbroken breakup” behaviors were, I was finding, kind of comforting in their own way. Misery sucked, sure. But there was a sort of perverse pleasure in having a good wallow.
Sandy came into our shared room, her face a white mask of stricken shock, tear stains on her cheeks.
I sat up, suddenly filled with a sense of purpose again. It was starting already. Something had happened, she was about to fall apart, and I was going to have to pick up the pieces. Everyone had sworn it wouldn’t happen, and here it was.
“What’s wrong, San? What happened?”
She came over to my bed and sat down next to me. “Bran, I have to tell you something, and I need you to stay calm.”
I drew back. In the entire history of our twin-lives together, I don’t think that statement had ever been spoken to me, coming from Sandy. It was a totally new direction.
“What are you talking about?”
She took my hands in hers and squeezed them tightly. I’d never known, up until that moment, that my hands were directly connected to my heart, but damn, when her fingers wrapped around them and squeezed, I felt that pressure tighten around my heart like a vise. Fear burned in my belly like acid. I didn’t even know why yet, it was just the feeling that whatever was going to come out of her mouth next was not going to be some typical Sandy drama queen stuff. It was going to be game changer time.
Sandy looked down at our intertwined hands and then back up at my face, her cheeks somehow even whiter than they were before.
“Just tell me.”
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know all the details. Or, like…any. But I got a text from Stuart. Or…Dad, I guess…?”
“Get to the point!” I shouted.
“Right, right. Sorry.” She took another deep breath and then spit the words out, all in a rush. “Clay’s been in an accident. He was riding his motorcycle, I’m not sure what happened, but they took him to the hospital.”
Panic flooded through me. Oh, God. What if he was badly injured? What if—and I could barely even bring myself to think this, let alone believe it—he was dead?
I scrambled up out of bed and started throwing things off of my desk and bed in a frantic rush. I didn’t have a clear plan in mind, but the frenzy of action made me feel like I was doing something, at least.
“Bran, what are you
looking for?”
Instead of answering her question, I turned my wild eyes on her and shouted, “We have to go. Now!”
She put her hand on my shoulder and said, “I know. But what are you looking for?”
“Keys!” I shrieked, coming completely unhinged. “We can’t go without keys!”
Sandy placed her hands firmly on my shoulders and spun me around to face her. She looked right into my eyes as she spoke, her voice low and firm. “I know, Brandy. I have keys. I’m driving you, you’re in no condition to—”
“No. I’ve gotta go myself!”
I tried to pull away, but she gripped me harder. Her voice gained a steely quality I’d never heard in it before. “Brandy, you have to trust me right now. I know that you always take care of me, but right now I’m taking care of you. You don’t need to worry about anything, I’ve got you. Capiche?”
I nodded, letting that information sink in for a couple of seconds, then turned and headed for the door of the room. Sandy caught me by the sleeve and looked me up and down, taking in my “wallowing” ensemble of bright turquoise flannel pajama pants with little rainbows on them, fuzzy slippers, and a heather gray Winship University sweatshirt. “Do you think you might want to change first?” she asked, wrinkling up her nose.
I smiled a little, grateful for something to break me out of my panic. Sandy might’ve been adopting a whole new take-charge persona, but when push came to shove, she was still Sandy. And she was never going to let someone leave their room in an ensemble like the one I had on without trying to stop it.
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t care if I was wearing a bikini and clown shoes, I’m not taking the time to change right now. If it was Hunter lying in a hospital bed, would you?”
She nodded. “Fair enough. Let’s go.”
As we strode purposefully down the hall toward the front door of the dorm, I slid my hand into hers and sent her a grateful smile. “Thanks for being here for me, sis. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
She squeezed my hand in hers, and this time the gesture filled my heart with warmth rather than dread. She gave me a sly grin, never slowing her pace. “What are twins for?”
Chapter 44
Brandy
I burst into the waiting room at the hospital, moving as fast as I dared. It was only the dirty looks on the faces of all the hospital staff that Sandy and I had passed as we’d power-walked through the halls on our way through the hospital that had kept me from breaking into a full-fledged sprint.
It wasn’t just that I couldn’t wait to see Clay. I also just needed more information. As it was, I didn’t know if he had a broken neck or scratches. It could’ve been anything along that spectrum.
The one possibility I didn’t even allow into my thinking was that he might not be alive. Every time that fear tried to pop its way into my brain, I could feel it draining my ability to move, think, or even breathe. I couldn’t let that happen.
If there was anything my upbringing had taught me was how to be cool in a crisis. I may have been losing my edge lately when it came to my ability to shut down my feelings and just do what needed to be done, but when push came to shove, I still had it.
It was the only thing that got me through those freakishly long minutes before I found out what was happening with Clay.
I scanned the faces in the waiting room, looking for a familiar one the way you would look for a life preserver bobbing on the surface of a stormy sea.
“There’s Stuart!” Sandy exclaimed, putting a hand on my shoulder and pointing. Damn, I’d looked right past him, my eyes scanning right past his bowed head in my panic.
We rushed over and sat down in the chairs on either side of him, and he looked up, relief lighting his face. “Oh, good, you girls made it.”
“Of course!” Shock colored my voice at the idea that we wouldn’t come down to the hospital for something like this.
“Yes, yes, right,” he said. “I just meant that I was glad the message got through. I was going to inform you directly, Brandy, but Janine suggested it would be better to tell Sandy and have her bring you, so that you’d have someone with you.”
“Probably for the best,” Sandy agreed.
“How is he, though? What’s going on?” I asked, my stomach twisting itself into knots as I waited for the response.
“I don’t have much specific information, but as far as I know, it’s not too serious,” Stuart said, and I suddenly felt like I could draw breath again. I wondered vaguely how I’d survived the last half hour without oxygen, because I certainly hadn’t breathed since Sandy had used the words “Clay” “accident” and “hospital” in the same sentence.
“Can I see him? I really need to see him,” I said desperately, voicing my next urgent concern.
“Janine’s in with him now. She’ll be out in a moment, I’m sure, to deliver an update. Until then, all we can do is sit tight.”
I dropped my head into my hands. “Oh, God. That’s the one thing I’m really crappy at. Taking action? Facing things head on? Having uncomfortable confrontations? Bring it on. Twice. But just waiting? That’s a nightmare.”
Stuart pulled me to him and held me, and it took me a few seconds to comprehend the feeling of calm that washed over me. Then, I did.
My dad’s hugging me, I thought. It was hard to even fathom. For the first time in my entire life, my dad is hugging me.
Just then, Janine walked into the waiting room and desperate fear took over my gut again. I had never experienced anything like the cognitive dissonance torturing me at that moment—simultaneously wanting—no, needing—to know how Clay was, but also terrified to hear the answer. The fear, in fact, tugged so powerfully at me that it squeezed my vocal chords until I couldn’t speak to even ask what I needed to know.
Janine, thank God, saw the question in my eyes and spoke immediately. “He’s fine,” she assured me. “Banged up, but not seriously.”
“Can I see him?” I rasped.
“You’d better.” She smiled. “You’re all he’s been asking for.”
Chapter 45
Brandy
“Clay! I was so scared!”
I rushed to his bedside and grabbed his hands in mine. I wanted nothing more than to throw myself into his arms, head on his chest, like they do in the movies in situations like this. But I didn’t think the grand romantic gesture was worth the damage it might do to his bruised ribs.
He put his hand on the side of my face, wiping my tears gently with his thumb. “Brandy, I’m so glad you came.”
I shook my head. “Nothing could’ve kept me away. I’ve been so dumb. When I heard you’d been in an accident…”
I trailed off as tears welled up again. I bowed my head, not wanting him to see me cry.
It didn’t work.
“Awww, baby. No tears. Come on. I’m okay. Just some scratches, bruises, and a little broken wrist. Nothing a cast won’t fix. And, hey, look on the bright side. I can have you sign it. And maybe I’ll convince you to write a dirty inscription.”
I nodded, wiping my face with the oversized sleeve of my sweatshirt. “I know. I know that now. Well, not the dirty inscription part. But when I first heard, when all I knew was that you’d been in an accident and you were in the hospital… when I thought you could be…Well, it made me realize how stupid I’d been. How I can’t let you go, no matter how much sense that idea made to me at the time. What was I thinking?”
He grinned, the devil-may-care look that had made him so irresistible to me that first night. “Hey, if I’d known hospitalization was all it would take to convince you, I would’ve run myself off the road on purpose.”
I groaned. “Oh, God. Don’t even joke about that. I can’t go through something like this again. I really can’t. Real talk, I’ve never felt fear like that in my life. I thought I might die. It felt like my heart might explode.”
He brushed tear-wet tendrils of hair back from my face. “And I never want you to have to feel anything li
ke this again. Baby, all I want to do is protect you. I want to stand between you and anything in this world that has the power to harm you. Whether that’s danger, or emotional pain. I don’t care. I plan to protect you from all of it.”
He looked down at his wrist, encased in a large white plaster cast. “As soon as I’m able-bodied again, that is,” he deadpanned.
I laughed. God, it felt good. “Forget about protecting me for now, big man. Just focus on healing. If I have you, I have everything I need.”
We sat there for a moment, just looking into each other’s eyes, until finally he broke the silence, his voice low and sweet. “Forget about protecting you, my girl? Never.”
Chapter 46
Clay
I swam up from the hazy fog induced by the pain meds the docs had given me. I felt gentle fingers stroking my hair, and even before coming fully awake, I recognized the touch as Brandy’s.
I didn’t know how long I’d been out of it, but somehow I knew that Brandy had been here the whole time. I sensed it deep in my bones.
In the instant before I opened my eyes, I heard heels clacking on tile. A woman was entering the room, and I recognized her footsteps. I’d know them anywhere.
“Hi, Janine,” Brandy whispered.
Yep. That confirmed it.
“Hi, hon. Has he been asleep this whole time?” my mom asked in a whisper.
“He sure has. How was your dinner?”
“It was good. I told Stuart to head back to the Airbnb and get some rest. Strong emotions are so overwhelming for him. He’s so analytical, you know? So, he’s exhausted.”
Even though her voice was a low whisper, I could hear the smile coming through as Brandy replied, “I’m the exact same way. I get it.”
Whether it was because I consciously wanted to hear the rest of their unguarded conversation or because I was just floating on the effects of the meds, I don’t know, but I decided to just lay there for a while. Relax, listen, and see where this conversation went.
Embracing Reckless Page 16