Where the Road Takes Me

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Where the Road Takes Me Page 5

by Jay McLean


  “His grandparents. Tommy’s mom’s parents. I can’t get hold of them to let them know I’m here.”

  Well, at least there was that. At least Tommy had someone.

  A doctor walked in, holding a clipboard. Josh was up and out of his seat instantly. “Is he okay?”

  The doctor looked up at Josh, then Blake and me. His eyes fixed on me, and I knew the moment recognition set in. I slumped in my seat and averted my gaze. “I’m sorry . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “What?” Josh yelped.

  “Oh no! I’m sorry. I mean, I just got here. I don’t know who or what you’re talking about. I just came in to use the vending machine.”

  “Oh God.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Josh fall back in his chair.

  I recognized the doctor. In fact, I’d never forget him. Dr. Ramirez was his name. He cleared his throat. I still refused to look up.

  “Chloe? Is that you?”

  I felt the back of Blake’s fingers skim up and down my arm, but I remained silent.

  Dr. Ramirez sighed. “I’ve been trying to contact you, Chloe. I’ve been sending you letters once a month. It’s important that you come in and see me. Especially with—”

  Glaring up at him, I tried to keep my emotions in check as I said, “Isn’t this illegal—you talking about me like this in front of other people? Surely that violates patient-doctor confidentiality.”

  He rubbed his hand against his graying beard. “I’m just worried about you, Chloe.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. I didn’t want him talking about this—not now—and definitely not with Blake and Josh there. Blake’s hand settled on the curve of my shoulder; he squeezed it lightly.

  I looked down at the floor. I had nothing more to say. I heard the doctor sigh again before the sound of his footsteps faded and then disappeared.

  Several seconds of silence passed. If they had questions, they kept them to themselves, and I was grateful for that.

  “Chloe?” Josh said. He’d stood up and was walking toward me. He squatted down onto one knee so our gazes met. His eyes were filled with tears but clear enough that I could see the pain behind them. He took my hand in his. “I wouldn’t—” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t ask if I had any other option. But you—you know that doctor and he seems to know you. And me—I need someone on my side right now. I need somebody that can help me. I need to see Tommy. I need to see my son. And I need to know that he’s okay. If you could do something, anything at all, to help me, to get me closer to him . . . I’m asking—no, I’m begging you—please, please help me.”

  A tear fell. Not his—but mine.

  I nodded, stood up, and made my way to the nurses’ desk. “Can you please page Dr. Ramirez?”

  Five minutes later, Josh was led in to see his son. I’d promised Dr. Ramirez I’d come in for a checkup. I’d lied. I’d even given him a phone number. Not mine. But Josh was able to be with his son. And that was all that mattered.

  “That was a good thing you did.”

  I looked up from dumping sugar in my coffee. We were on the floor of the waiting room and had an assortment of snacks and beverages between us.

  “I didn’t do anything, Blake.”

  He shook his head slowly. “You might not think so. But Josh—he’ll remember that forever.”

  I replaced the lid and took a sip of the coffee. It was nearly two in the morning now. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing there, but I couldn’t leave, and truthfully, I didn’t want to.

  Blake cleared his throat and looked up at me through his lashes. “So, that doctor knows you? He’s been sending you letters?”

  I slumped my shoulders, heaved a sigh, and ignored his question. “What’s the deal with him?”

  “Josh?” he asked, then took a sip of his coffee. It must have been too hot because he cursed and sucked the skin on the back of his hand, trying to cool his mouth. I contained my chuckle. He shrugged and continued, “He met Natalie our freshman year—”

  “He went to our school?”

  He laughed. “Yeah . . . and I’m still weirded out that we’ve been at the same school for however long, and I’ve never seen you before.”

  “Go on,” I said, trying to sidestep where he wanted this conversation to go.

  “So, they met when we were freshman. Natalie got pregnant start of junior year, had the baby, tried to be a mom, couldn’t—so she ran away. Josh has no idea where she is. She won’t speak to him, just her parents. They watch Tommy when Josh has to work and no one else can. Natalie calls them every now and then and gets them to wire her money. They do, but they hate it.”

  “And Josh?”

  “Josh’s parents kicked him out of the house when they found out he got a girl pregnant. He leases a garage apartment off an old lady that loves the shit out of him and Tommy. I don’t think she even lets him pay rent anymore. He maintains her yard, and she watches Tommy when she can. She’s more like family to them than his own parents are. How fucked up is that? Josh stepped up to be a parent, and his own parents failed him.” He paused for a moment. “Actually, everyone failed him. His parents, his girlfriend, our so-called friends.”

  “So you knew him in high school?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. We were best friends. I mean we still are. He’s kind of my reality, you know?”

  I didn’t respond. I didn’t really understand what he meant.

  “It’s hard,” he continued. “He leads this whole other life that kids our age are way too young to be living. But you should see him with his kid. It’s like a higher power created two living individuals at different times and made them fit perfectly for each other. Josh loves that kid more than anything in the world. And when they’re together, their age difference doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Just Tommy.” His eyes roamed my face, and I swear he wanted to say something more, but he held back. “Anyway,” he said with forced peppiness in his voice, “Josh was gonna be a pro skater. He had sponsors chasing him and everything. It was his dream.” He looked away and stared into the distance. “I remember when we were kids at the skate park and everyone would just watch him. He demanded attention. He was that good.”

  “What about you? I mean, you’re pretty good, right?”

  “I’m good, but I’m not Joshua-Warden good.”

  “So what’s your dream, Hunter?”

  His body went rigid with the coffee cup halfway to his mouth. He tilted his head slightly, his lips apart, examining me. “I think I’d prefer it if you called me Blake.”

  I dropped my head to hide my grin. “Okay, Blake. What’s your dream?”

  He inhaled audibly, and his shoulders tensed. “Ball.”

  “Basketball?”

  He nodded. “But it’s just a dream, Not Abby.”

  I laughed at his nickname for me before saying, “But you’re good, though, right? I mean, good enough for college?”

  His smile was tight.

  Then Josh’s voice interrupted us. “I’m so sorry. I forgot you guys were out here.”

  “It’s fine,” Blake said as we both stood.

  “He’s going to be okay,” Josh said.

  I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been until I felt my muscles relax.

  “It’s a horrible case of the flu, but he’s going to be okay.”

  I felt the rush of breath from Blake and looked up at him. His head was tipped back in relief.

  “Thank you, guys. I mean it. And Chloe, I can’t even—”

  “It’s no problem. Really,” I cut in.

  Then his arms were around me, holding me tight. “Thank you,” he said again. He pulled back. “I better get back in there. When Tommy’s out of here, I want you to meet him, okay?”

  I smiled. “Of course.”

  Then he was gone.

  “Home?” Bl
ake asked.

  “Home.”

  Blake

  I drove her back to the bowling alley, where she’d left her car. We didn’t speak. She looked exhausted. “Will you be alright to drive home?”

  She nodded through a yawn.

  I pulled my car up next to hers. “Thanks for coming. I don’t know how Josh would’ve handled it if you hadn’t been there to come to his rescue.”

  She shrugged. “At least Tommy’s going to be okay. That’s the main thing, right?” She opened the car door and stepped out. I followed. I wasn’t ready to say good-bye yet. Throwing her bag in her car, she turned back to me. “I can’t wait to climb into bed and crash.”

  “Yeah . . .”

  “Are you tired?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. I’m probably gonna go for a run.”

  She laughed quietly. “That actually doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  For a moment, silence filled the space between us, then she spoke. “So, I’ll see you on Wednesday, right?”

  “Or at school tomorrow.”

  “About that . . .” she said. Her eyes focused on the ground while she contemplated her next words. When she looked up, her bottom lip was caught between her teeth. “I think—” She broke off and let out a breath, then started again. “I think that maybe you shouldn’t talk to me at school.”

  “What?”

  “I just don’t want people to know that you know me. I know it sounds strange, but it would just cause issues.”

  “What—”

  “Nothing bad.” She cut me off. “It’s just for me. It’s something I want. Please?”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I don’t expect you to. I just need you to do it, okay?”

  “So, what? I see you in the halls, and you just expect me to ignore you? That’s gonna be hard, Chloe.” I didn’t know why I was so pissed, but the thought of not speaking to her when she was right there made absolutely no sense.

  “You’ve done it for four years. I’m sure you can manage another three months.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “Please, Blake.”

  I wanted to argue, but I didn’t. Instead, I took a step forward and placed my hand on her hip. Her body stiffened, but she didn’t push me away. “What are you doing?” she asked, exhaling a shaky breath.

  “I don’t know,” I told her truthfully. I had spent the entire night doing everything I could not to replay that kiss in my mind. And to ignore her uniform . . . her goddamn shirt was so tight I could see every bump, every curve, every part of her.

  Leaning down, I rubbed my nose against her cheek, followed by my lips. Her breath caught on a gasp, and she held it. She must have sensed it, too. Whatever this was between us. I felt her hands on my stomach as she gripped my shirt. I had her pressed up against her car by the time my lips moved to her jaw. “Blake,” she whispered.

  My tongue grazed across her skin. “Mmm?”

  She tilted her head, inviting me to keep going.

  I started kissing her neck. When she let out a soft whimper, I was certain she wanted the same thing. My hand moved from her hip, to her thigh, gripping it and lifting it off the ground so I could get between her legs. My other hand settled on the back of her head. Fingers curled in her hair, I pulled back slightly, dipping her head back so I could see her lips. Her eyes were half-hooded, and even in the darkness, I could see the lust filling them. My mouth descended, aiming for hers.

  “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 a
t 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.

 

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