Home Again

by Fisher, Lisa

  “Of course.”

  “Cool. I’ve got a few things I have to take care of this week, but I’ll let you know, okay?” Devin, of course, would throw a shit-fit if he found out about this. I was supposed to stay out of sight, not meet up with fans. If he had his way, I would have stayed in treatment another two months.

  “I’ll get your food order to the cook. My shift ends in about five minutes, so I’ll catch you later.”

  “Could I get another Long Island real quick? Oh, and what’s your name?” I asked, downing the drink in my hand.

  “It’s Brad.”

  “Thanks, Brad.”

  “You are very welcome, Aisley.”

  After mixing me the drink, he smiled and walked back to the kitchen.

  I may have pissed off two people, but I’ve made one very happy.

  So maybe I’m not all bitch.

  When the cook brought out my food, I had a pretty good buzz on. One and a half Long Island Iced Tea’s will do that to a girl. Especially a girl who doesn’t do too much drinking. Too bad I never feel very hungry once I start drinking. My mom’s words filtered through my mind. “Why do you think you’re here?” I groaned, pushing away my plate.

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  I whipped around, hearing a man’s voice. Maybe I should’ve brought a disguise. A group of twenty-something’s filtered in the door behind him. “Can I help you?” At least the guy was cute. I didn’t recognize him, so we must not have gone to school together.

  “Yeah, I was just wondering if you had a map.”

  “A map?”

  “Yeah, I need a map, because I keep getting lost in your eyes.”

  Cue the pretty girl vomiting. “Well, that was—”

  “Cute?”

  “A little sad.” I laughed. “What’s your name?”

  “Mark.” He stuck out his hand. “And you are?”

  “Not happening, sad boy,” I joked, shaking his hand.

  “Aww, come on.” He smiled a pearly white smile. “That doesn’t even get me a name?”

  “Be happy it got you a handshake.” I chuckled, and took a drink.

  “At least let me buy you another drink.”

  “No, I’m fine. Thanks anyway, Mark.”

  “No strings. Just one drink and I’ll leave you alone. Come on.”

  “She said no, Mark.”

  I looked past Mark, and found myself getting lost in the most beautiful green eyes. The same green eyes that haunted my dreams; the same ones I didn’t think I’d get to look into again. The butterflies were back with a vengeance.

  “Mind your own damn business, Easton,” Mark said with an eye roll.

  “Aisley, here, is my business,” he challenged.

  “Holy fuck. You’re Aisley Carter,” he said, a little louder than I was comfortable with, causing me to glance around, hoping I was just being paranoid. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to us. I downed the rest of my drink and got up.

  “It’s been fun, boys.” I gave Mark a polite smile and glanced at Easton. He was still as handsome as I remembered. He kept his brown hair a little shaggy, so when he leaned just right, his hair fell into his eyes. Like now. I had to force myself to look away as he brushed a few stray strands out of his face. I started to move past them, but Easton grabbed my arm. “Ais, are you drunk? Did you get her drunk?” he asked to me, then to Mark.

  “Whoa, I had nothing to do with this. I didn’t know she was your girl, man,” Mark said, with his hands up, backing away. “See ya, East.” Then he threw me a quick smile.

  And I was left with Easton Everson.

  The perfect guy, who I left behind two years ago.

  His hand was still on my wrist, and tingles from his touch were shooting up my arm. Those damn butterflies started dancing wildly, too. Like they were taunting me. My breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t seen East in two years, so what the hell was I supposed to say?

  He dropped his hand, and I felt my heart drop a little with it. How he had this much control over my heart after two years, was beyond me.

  “East.”

  “Hey.”

  “How are you?” Stupid question.

  “Fine,” he said tightly. He was angry, I could tell. “What are you doing home, Aisley?”

  Home. There was that damn word, again. This wasn’t home anymore.

  “I—” Didn’t he read the gossip sites? No, probably not. This was Easton Everson, who once told me he’d shoot himself before he would ever read garbage like that. “I just had some time off.”

  “You, superstar, have time off?” He gave me a hard look. “Are you driving?”

  “No, I walked.”

  “Jesus. It’s like fifty degrees outside. Tell me you brought a coat.”

  I shook my head.

  “Christ, Aisley.” He shook his head disapprovingly. Even after two years, he still cared. It was obvious, and caused my heart to pick up speed.

  “I’m fine, Easton, really. I live, like, five blocks away.” Err, crap. No I didn’t. “I mean, my parents do. But you know that.”

  “Here, take this.” He pulled off his navy blue zip-up sweater, and shoved it into my hands. “And be careful. I’ll see you around.”

  “Wait!” I shouted, before he could turn away. “I’m sorry about your dad, and I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral.”

  He looked me over for a minute. His eyes held a darkness that was never there before. “Yeah, me too, Aisley. Me, too.”

  ***

  Chapter 3

  “You think this thing between us doesn’t scare the shit out of me, too? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.” East ran a hand through his shaggy hair.

  “East—I don’t want to ruin what we have.” He was my best friend. I couldn’t lose him.

  “Who says it will?”

  “Statistics. We’re sixteen. I’d rather be a realist.”

  “Well, I’d rather be a romantic,” he said stubbornly, pulling me close.

  “I’m scared something’s going to happen and we won’t even be friends, anymore.”

  “There’s not a thing that you could do to cause me to stop being your friend, Carter. Even if we don’t work out as a couple, I’ll always be here for you. I… I love you. Just say you’ll be my girlfriend. Tell me you want this as much as I do.”

  A knock on my old bedroom door shook me out of a beautiful dream about the boy with those perfect emerald eyes. I groaned. If I hadn’t seen East last night, I would have been perfectly fine. I wouldn’t have dreamt of him or his damn intoxicating eyes. My head was pounding. I wanted to go back to sleep, but the knocking continued.

  “I’m up. Come in.”

  Mom walked in, as chipper as she always was. “Ais, honey it’s ten-thirty. How late were you out last night?”

  “Not late, I’m just jet lagged,” I lied.

  “All right. I made pancakes, if you’re hungry.”

  My stomach rumbled at the thought. “I’ll be down in a bit, okay, Mom?”

  She nodded, and closed the door behind her.

  If only she’d taken my pounding headache with her.

  Reluctantly, I got up, grabbed some fresh clothes, and walked straight into the bathroom for a shower. Fifteen minutes soaking in the hot water did absolutely nothing for my headache, but it did make me feel a little better.

  As soon as I walked into the kitchen, the smell of pancakes overwhelmed me, and I dished myself up a whole plate, smothered in butter and syrup. My mother really was a good cook. My dad always told her she should start up her own restaurant, but she never did. She told him she was perfectly happy being a mother and a housewife. Something I never understood. I would never be content with that kind of life. Ever.

  And that was why I had to get the fuck out of this town.

  “Oh, good, you found the food.”

  “Yes, Mom.” I rolled my eyes. “If you were trying to hide it, you did a bad job.”

  “Oh, hush,” she said, shaking h
er head. “Your father’s at work, and I’ve got a few errands to run. Are you going to be okay alone?”

  “Yes, Mom,” I said in between bites. “I’m a big girl.”

  “Have you heard from Devin?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, don’t avoid him, Ais. It’ll only make things worse.”

  “I know, Mom.”

  “And have you called the doctor, yet?”

  “No, Mom.” She would drive me crazy before the day’s end, of that I was sure.

  “Aisley, you need to do that. Today.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Okay. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” I was relieved when she left without saying anything more. I knew I had to talk to Devin eventually, and I knew I had to go to the damn doctor—I just didn’t want to yet. I wanted to feel normal for at least one day.

  After eating about half of my food, I grabbed my cell phone off the counter and dialed my best friend’s number. “Becks, what do you think about some chill time?”

  ***

  “Is it weird that I haven’t seen your apartment before?”

  Becks shrugged. “You’ve been busy. I understand.”

  It was true, I had been busy, but I had days off—weeks off, occasionally—and I could have at least come by for a visit. But I didn’t. In fact, I rarely called. I could probably count on my hands the number of times we spoke since I had left. “I’m a shitty friend.” I decided.

  “Aisley Carter, knock it off. You better not have come here to have a pity party.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Good, because I’m all out of pity,” she said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I studied her face, and knew right away that she was keeping something from me. “Becks.”

  Becks turned away, grabbing a soda from her fridge. “Want one?”

  “No. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing. Forget it.”

  “Becks.”

  “Shit. I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

  “It’s about East, isn’t it?” It always was. “Did he come here last night?” I looked around, looking for a sign that he had been here.

  Wait, if he did come here—did that mean Becks and Easton were hooking up? No. They wouldn’t do that to me, would they?

  “Wipe that stupid look off your face. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

  “You don’t know what I’m thinking.” I huffed.

  “So you’re not thinking that I’m getting my sweet, sweet lovin’ on with your man?” Her eyes sparkled with laughter, and I wanted to smack her.

  I giggled. “He’s not my man, anymore. You’re free to do whatever you want, and so is he,” I said, feeling my stomach knot up at the thought of them together.

  “Well, you can relax, because East never was my type.” Becks plopped down on her couch and patted the seat next to her.

  As I sat down with her, I didn’t want to ask her what I knew was about to come out of my mouth. “So have you seen him? Did he tell you?”

  “Yes, he came over last night after he ran into you. I got to hear all sorts of bitching from that whiny ass boy.”

  “What did he say? He hates me, doesn’t he?”

  “He said you were at the bar, drunk.” She pointed at me. “Why wasn’t I invited?”

  “I just went to go get some noodles but—”

  “—the noodle place closed down six months ago,” she inserted for me.

  “Yeah. So I went to the bar for some food, and ended up having a couple of drinks.”

  “They served you?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t have a fake, too.” I rolled my eyes at her, jokingly.

  “Well, yeah, but you’re Aisley Carter. I mean, they should know that. I wouldn’t think it would work.”

  I laughed. “You’d be surprised what having my name can do.” But enough about me…get to East.

  “Seriously, though. He didn’t say much. Just asked me if I knew you were back, and for how long.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Nothing. I told him I knew you were coming, but that I’m not sure how long you’re staying. That’s the truth. How long are you staying, Aisley?”

  Fuck. Why did she have to ask that question? The answer was as long as I could stomach it, but I couldn’t say that to her or anyone else who lived here. “I don’t know. Maybe a month, maybe two.” Maybe I’ll leave tomorrow…

  She didn’t have anything to say about that, so we sat in silence as I looked around her apartment. My eyes landed on a piece of tree bark, laying on the bookshelf.

  “Carter, come on, don’t be a wimp!” Easton laughed, grabbing my arm and tugging me across the log that we were using as a bridge to get across the creek without getting wet.

  “What if I fall in?”

  “You won’t fall in,” he said confidently.

  “Come on, sissy. I did it,” Becks called proudly from behind Easton.

  “Okay.” I looked him dead in the eyes. “Promise you won’t let go?”

  “Promise.” He gripped my hand tight, and butterflies awoke in my tummy for the first time. As he tugged me across the piece of wood, I kept my eyes closed tight.

  “You’re going to fall in if you don’t open your eyes, goober.” Easton laughed, and suddenly we stopped. “Open your eyes, Carter.”

  I did what he said. Looking around, I was relieved we were on the other side. “Thanks, East.”

  Easton grinned and took out his pocketknife. Bending down, he carved away three pieces from the old log, handing one to Becks, one to me, and shoving one into his back pocket. “A trophy, for your bravery.”

  The butterflies took their time dancing in the pit of my stomach as my hand grazed his. So I took my time grabbing the piece of bark from him, savoring the way it felt to touch him.

  “Come on, guys. You can trade cooties later!” Becks yelled, running farther into the forest.

  A blush crept onto my cheeks.

  Easton looked away, embarrassed. “Let’s go, Aisley.”

  “Hello? Earth to Aisley.” Becks snapped her fingers and laughed, as I shook the memory.

  “Where the hell did you go?”

  “Uh, I just saw the bark.” I pointed behind her, to the bookshelf.

  “Oh, that.”

  “I can’t believe you still have that. And, it’s on display, nonetheless,” I joked.

  “What, you don’t have yours?” she asked incredulously.

  “No. I mean, yeah, it’s packed into a box somewhere,” I lied. Yes, I still had it. I knew exactly where it was, too. Stuffed inside the pocket of my guitar case. For good luck.

  “Uh-huh,” she said, “Right.”

  She could assume I was lying all she wanted, but I wouldn’t tell her the truth. “Whatever.”

  “So are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” she asked suddenly.

  Which one?

  “Talk to me… about why you’re here.”

  Oh. That one.

  “You know I love you, no matter what,” she reminded me. Not that she needed to.

  I let out a heavy sigh, and ran my fingers through my strawberry blonde hair. “I just don’t want to talk about it yet, Becks.” I don’t want to talk about it ever, actually, because there is nothing wrong with me.

  “Fine, but you need to talk to someone.”

  “Not you, too,” I groaned. “I’ll call the shrink, don’t worry.”

  “I always worry.”

  “Can we please stop talking about me? Tell me how college is.”

  She looked down. “I, I’m taking some time off.”

  “What? Since when?”

  “Since… my mom got sick.”

  Cathy was sick? Sick how? “What do you mean?”

  “She’s fine now, don’t freak out. Last fall she found a lump in her breast.”

  “She has cancer?” My eyes widened. I had to be the biggest asshole on Earth for not kno
wing this.

  “She had a double mastectomy, so there’s little chance it’ll come back.”

  “Holy shit. Why didn’t you tell me, Rebecca?” I said angrily, using her full first name.

  “Look, don’t be mad. Honestly, it was a couple months after Ralph passed away… so I guess I just didn’t think it would matter. ”

  That’s it. I am the world’s worst friend. “I’m sorry, Becks. Fuck. I’m a terrible person. I’m surprised you don’t hate me as much as Easton does.”

  “I could never hate you. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, come on.”

  “So have me and Easton,” I reminded her. And he has no problem hating me.

  “What did I say about a pity party?”

  “Right, no pity party.”

  And no more thinking about Easton Everson.

  Easier said than done.

  ***

  Chapter 4

  I stood, lips pursed, staring at the man at my front door. I was half-tempted to slam the door right in his face.

  “Are you going to let me in?”

  No. “Yeah, come in, Devin. I didn’t know you were coming. I figured you’d just call.” I opened the door wider and moved aside to let him in.

  “Nice try, Princess. The label wanted me to keep an eye on you, you know that.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay. I was just a little stressed.”

  “Aisley, you are one of the best singer-songwriters out there right now. Don’t fuck this up.”

  He was right. If I kept shutting people out, I’d end up right back here for good. I wouldn’t let that happen. I had to let them think they fixed whatever they thought was wrong with me. “Right. Sorry.”

  “You haven’t called Dr. Tinsley, have you?”

  “Not yet.” My jaw tightened.

  “Look, the label agreed you could leave the recovery center, as long as you came back here for outpatient counseling.”

  “I know.”

  “Need I remind you, they are helping you pay your bills? And they let you postpone the rest of your tour for four fucking months? And they didn’t drop your ass—”

  “Yeah, Devin, I got it.” I rubbed my face, and cut him off.

  “Your mom told me you went out last night. You can’t do that, Aisley.”