by Gina Ciocca
I walked right up to him, ignoring Violet. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He didn’t even tell me until two minutes ago. Why would he tell you?” Violet huffed.
David put his hand on her shoulder. “Meet me inside, Vi. I need to talk to Kelsey.”
Violet’s face twisted with indignation. “I’m not going inside! Anything you need to say to her you can say in front of me.” She put her hands on her hips and shot him a look that could fry eggs.
David asked me to give them a minute before pulling Violet to the side. I stared at my toes on the sidewalk, trying to allow them some privacy, but it was obvious that asking to be alone with me had landed him on her shit list. She kept pulling her arm away from him and shrieking incredulous no’s left and right. Finally, she stalked away from him, clearly against her better judgment. As she passed me, she stopped in her tracks. “Thanks for ruining prom, Kelsey,” she spat. Her lip quivered, and I saw it in her eyes before she stormed off: She’d actually fallen this time.
I looked at David, unable to focus on her tantrum. I had more important things to apologize for.
He put his hands in his pockets and bobbed his head toward the trail as if to say, Let’s walk.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I repeated as I fell in step beside him. I shivered uncontrollably, though I couldn’t tell how much of it was from the breeze.
“Would it have changed anything?” he asked quietly.
“Yes! Yes, it would’ve.” My lip trembled. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Maybe what? Maybe you would’ve felt sorry for me? You ripped my heart out and stomped all over it. Why would knowing this have made any difference? I didn’t want pity friendship.”
“You weren’t afraid he might hurt me after what he did to you?”
David raised an eyebrow, and a choked sound escaped his throat. “Kelse, no. If I thought that for a second—”
I waved him off, shaking my head in frustration before he could say more. It was a stupid question, and we both knew it. The Ryan Murphy who’d been my boyfriend would never dream of raising a hand to me. But Ryan Murphy the baseball player was obviously an ass hat.
“I feel like I don’t even know him,” I whimpered.
“Pretty crappy feeling, isn’t it?”
My words came out in a choked whisper. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for what he did. It’s not your fault.” He scuffed the pavement. “Besides, I told him I wouldn’t tell you. You needed to hear it from him, not me.”
Typical David. Always trying to do what he thought was best for everyone else.
“I’m not apologizing for him. I’m apologizing for me. You keep forgiving me, for every stupid, hurtful thing I do to you, and I don’t know why.”
We paused as we reached the end of the sidewalk, where the boulders loomed, irregular lumps in the moonlight. David looked at me, taking in the shivering, sniffling wreck before him. “I’m kind of an idiot when it comes to you. And I don’t know why.”
Then he held out his arms to me. I stepped into them, letting him hold me and rub my back and wrap me in warmth until I finally stopped shaking.
I sighed against his chest. My arms dropped slowly and I reached for his hand, not ready to let go of him yet. “Do you want to keep going?” I asked, nodding toward the rock trail.
His eyes widened with surprise. “Keep going? This was always the end of the road for us.”
I nodded, threading my fingers through his. “Maybe I’m not scared anymore.”
David’s grip tightened around mine, but he didn’t move. When I looked up to search his face, he kept his eyes cast down. The corners of his mouth curved into an unsettled line.
“We’d better get going, Kelse,” he said as his hand slipped from mine. “It’s gonna be a long ride home.”
“Long” wasn’t quite the word.
Awkward? Yes.
Quiet? Unbearably.
Nauseating? Abso-frigging-lutely.
Between Ryan and me, and Violet and me, and Violet and David, there was enough friction in the limo to start a fire. I sat between Candy, who held my hand the whole way, and Molly, Steve’s date. I didn’t want to be next to Ryan, but I didn’t want to cause more trouble with Violet by sitting anywhere near David.
I spotted my car as we pulled up to Ryan’s house and felt a huge surge of gratitude that I hadn’t carpooled with Candy like she’d wanted to. Now I could go home and cry over the ruins of the night without having to bother anyone else, or worse, having to stay there because no one had enough brain cells left to operate a vehicle. Except for David, and Violet would have none of that.
“Call me tomorrow,” Candy whispered as she hugged me good-bye. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded into her shoulder. “I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.” I’d only given her the ten-second version of the story in the bathroom after David and I came back from the Cliff Walk. There were too many nosy people and not enough time for more.
She squeezed my hand before heading toward Ryan’s front steps, where he held the door open for everyone filing into his house. Everyone except Violet and David, who took off in Violet’s car together. When Candy disappeared inside, Ryan looked over at me.
“Come on,” I said, opening my car door and indicating he should get inside. “You wanted to talk. Let’s talk.”
I threw my shoes and purse in the backseat as Ryan trotted over to my car and slipped into the passenger seat. The door shut behind him and instantly the tension became palpable again, like he’d sealed us inside a vacuum.
With the exception of a few furtive glances out of the corners of our eyes, we didn’t look at each other. “I’m so stupid,” Ryan said to his hands after a moment of terse silence. “I can’t believe I did what I did. I just wanted to get into a good school, that’s all.”
“And the fight in the hallway that day?”
“I started it,” he mumbled. “I said stupid shit about him, about his father—”
My anger flared. “Don’t tell me any more. You realize it was for nothing, don’t you? David had his choices narrowed down ages ago, while you were still resorting to pranks and acting like a jealous kindergartner.” Ryan twisted his hands and turned toward the window. “All for nothing,” I repeated.
“So it’s really over then?” Ryan asked quietly.
I looked over at him and felt myself break into a million pieces. In the year and a half we’d been together, I’d never seen Ryan cry. But at that moment there were unmistakable tears rolling down his cheeks. Seeing him that way killed me, and my own eyes filled with tears instantly.
“I’m sorry, Ry.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised.” He wiped his cheeks with the back of his sleeve and stared out the window again. “You haven’t wanted me since the day he got here.” His shoulders jolted with a silent sob.
“Ryan,” I bleated. “I’m sorry.” I wanted to tell him everything, tell him that he wasn’t the only one who’d done something despicable. Part of me wanted him to know how I’d kissed David and then come back and slept in his bed like nothing had happened. How I was just as disgusted with myself, if not more, than I was by what he had done. But watching him break down, I knew there was no point. I’d only hurt him more.
Ryan lunged across the center console and pulled me into a crushing hug. I didn’t know how long we sat there, holding each other and crying. I just knew that when he left my car, I felt so alone and so hollow.
He’d been right, of course. When I’d left Norwood, I’d wanted to believe all things perfect were around the corner, waiting for me to find them. I hadn’t stopped to think about what I’d be leaving behind, which turned out to be a huge piece of my heart. Specifically, I’d left it with David. Once I got far enough away, I’d been able to pretend I hadn’t, and falling for Ryan h
ad helped me keep my delusions going. But the truth was, I’d never been completely his—and the girl he’d fallen for only half existed. Seeing David again had sent my illusions crumbling around me. I’d just been too stubborn to see it.
Sitting in my car, bereft and broken, I saw everything crystal clearly. I’d hurt them both. And now I’d lost them both.
Thirty-One
Rhode Island
Senior Year
Emotional hangovers suck every bit as hard as alcohol hangovers, if not worse. I found that out firsthand when I woke up the next morning feeling like a steamroller had had its way with me. My eyes burned, and without even looking in the mirror, I knew there must have been bags the size of eggs beneath them. My whole body felt heavy and useless, and I had no intention of leaving my cocoon of sheets, let alone my room.
A light knock sounded at my door. “Kelsey?” Miranda called softly.
Great. Unfortunately, sheets weren’t a very effective barrier against nosy little sisters.
My door swung open and Miranda stepped inside in all her bed-headed glory. Only my sister could manage to wake up looking like she’d gone to battle with her pajamas and lost. Though I probably could’ve given her a run for her money on that particular morning.
“I thought you were sleeping at Ryan’s house,” she said suspiciously.
I rolled over to face the wall. “I didn’t.”
“Did something happen?”
“A lot happened. I don’t want to talk about it.”
There was a long stretch of silence, so quiet that I wondered if she’d left the room. But when I turned over again, there she stood, blinking her big eyes at me. “Did you and Ryan break up?”
“Yes.”
She shifted and picked at her cuticle. “Did he figure out that you still love David?”
I shot up in bed. “What?”
Miranda rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dumb. If you and Ryan broke up, it’s either because he figured out you still love David, or you finally did.”
I gaped at her, speechless. A fresh batch of tears seared my eyes. Had I been the only one too stupid to figure it out?
My head slammed against my pillow and a new round of sobs took control. I couldn’t have cried any harder, or any uglier. And my sister couldn’t have been any sweeter. Just as she had the last time I’d made a mess of everything, she climbed onto my bed and stroked my hair until I didn’t have any tears left to cry.
I spent Saturday in sad shape. I wouldn’t leave my room, and I wouldn’t talk to anyone but Candy. She told me Ryan had slept in his room instead of down in the basement with the rest of them, but he’d at least joined them for breakfast. I knew she’d left out any details that would break my heart all over again, and I loved her for it. When I asked about Violet, a long pause followed.
“She’ll get over it,” Candy finally said.
“It’s not like I can help that Steve dropped a bomb on me in the middle of prom. She’s acting like I purposely spoiled her fun.”
“You know Vi. She can’t stand any drama that’s not her own. And it burns her buns that David has such a soft spot for you.”
“Well, she has him. I don’t.”
“That would change in a millisecond if you wanted it to.”
I frowned into the phone. “Not anymore, Can. I blew it. Majorly.”
“You’re majorly a moron if you believe that.”
It was the first time I cracked a smile all day.
When I woke up the next morning to the sound of rain thrumming against the house, I thought it would make me even more of a zombie. Rain always sapped my energy and made me cranky. At least it had, until it became the thing I associated with the best kiss of my life.
The more I thought about it, the more restless my limbs became. I itched to do something productive. I knew there was nothing that could counteract the damage I’d already done, but maybe I could find something that would at least be a step in the right direction.
I threw the covers off me and went into the study. A few minutes later I emerged with a freshly printed chocolate chip cookie recipe. I stuffed it in my purse, and after brushing my teeth and hair, hopped in my car and returned a little while later with all the ingredients. My mother looked completely baffled when I came into the kitchen and plopped my bags on the counter.
“Kelsey? What are you doing?”
“Making cookies,” I replied, grabbing a baking sheet from the cabinet.
“Are you okay? You haven’t made cookies in ages.”
“I’m fine. I promised Mr. Kerrigan I’d make him some and I never did. Better late than never, right?” My mother nodded and visibly relaxed. I raised an eyebrow at her. “Did you think I was going to binge on them or something?”
“No! But you’ve had a rough weekend. I had to ask. Do you want any help?”
I told her I didn’t, and she left me alone in the kitchen after a quick kiss on my forehead. For hours I turned out batch after batch of delectable-smelling cookies. I’d forgotten how much I loved the whole therapeutic process of mixing and measuring and sampling. It made me wonder how many other things I’d forgotten about myself since I moved to Newport. Enough to hurt David, and that was plenty.
With the last batch cooling and the mess cleaned, I hopped in the shower. I wanted nothing more than to throw the cookies into containers and drive over to the Kerrigans’ house, but my mother insisted on feeding me first.
Finally, clean and fed and feeling human for the first time in forty-eight hours, I started down the familiar road to the heart of Newport.
Thirty-Two
Rhode Island
Senior Year
The closer I got, the more it seemed like a bad idea.
What if no one was home?
What if Violet was over?
What in the hell was I expecting to happen, anyway?
The questions needled into my gut like pins into a pincushion, but I kept driving anyway.
I couldn’t tell if I was disappointed or relieved when only Mr. Kerrigan’s car sat in the driveway. Maybe a little of both. At any rate, I wasn’t going to turn back. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed two containers of cookies and scampered through the rain to the back porch.
Mr. Kerrigan’s face lit up when he saw me on the other side of the door. “Kelsey!” he cried. “Come in, come in! Are you looking for David?”
“Actually, I’m here to see you.” I held the containers out toward him. “I believe I owe you some cookies.”
“Oh, what a sweet girl you are. You cheered my evening right up.”
My face fell. “Why do you need cheering? Is something wrong?”
“No, no! I’m fine, nothing like that.” He guided me into the kitchen and pulled out a chair, but I stopped short and gasped when I realized how different it looked. “You remodeled the kitchen!” I cried. The cabinets were new and white and the stone countertops gleamed. “It looks amazing!”
“So glad you like it! David and I did most of the work ourselves. Have a seat and I’ll get us some milk. You can help me make a dent in these wonderful cookies, not that I’ll need help once David sees them.”
“Um, where is David?”
“He took Violet to a movie. Should be back soon.” He took a carton of milk from the fridge. “Nice girl, that Violet. A little flighty, but she’s good to my boy.” He paused to pour the milk. “Anyhow, what I meant before is that it’s been a bit crazy around here. Getting David ready for college, getting the house ready for the market, getting ready to move again. David is a huge help of course, and it’s a godsend that I work from home. But still—whew—this year went by in a blink.”
He placed a glass of milk in front of me with a flourish and a smile, but I didn’t smile back. He’d lost me a few seconds ago. Somewhere around “getting ready to move again.”
“Move?” I repeated. “Move where?”
“Back to Connecticut, of course.” That must’ve been when he noticed my dumbfounded expression, because he tilted his head and looked at me in confusion. “We’d only planned to stay here for a year. David didn’t tell you?”
Cold spread through my insides even though I hadn’t touched my milk yet. “He didn’t say a word.” As usual.
Mr. Kerrigan nodded as if it made perfect sense. “He cared a lot about you, honey. He still does. In fact, I think you were a big part of the reason he agreed to come here so easily.”
I already knew that. Because David had told me.
“But why go back to Connecticut? I thought you inherited this house? Now you have to find another one?”
He shook his head. “We never sold the house in Connecticut. When my father died, this house was in my name, but I never intended to keep it. There’s no mortgage, but the taxes are high, and it’s too much house for David and me. I gave him a choice; we could rent out the house in Connecticut and live here while we got this house ready for the market, sort of a last hurrah before we said good-bye. Or, we could stay in Connecticut. Drive up here on the weekends and do what we needed to do in our free time. With my health being what it was, it didn’t make sense to do all that traveling. But I didn’t want to pull David out of school, so I told him the decision was his.” He smiled again. “You’d be surprised how little convincing it took.”
Suddenly I wanted to be back in my sheet cocoon in the worst possible way. In September I’d hoped David’s arrival in Rhode Island was a figment of my imagination—a huge misunderstanding. Now I hoped the same thing about this conversation.
“So you’re leaving again?”
“Not until after graduation. But definitely before the end of the summer, whether we have a buyer by then or not.”
“But I thought—”
The sound of the kitchen door opening interrupted my question. David came into the room, swatting at raindrops that shone like glitter against his black hair. “Hey, Kelse,” he said. “What are you doing here?”