by Slade, Shari
His brows knit together. She watched in horror as all the color drained from his face. “No, that’s not possible. You can’t be.”
Tayber blinked twice, stood, and said nothing. He just looked at her like he was seeing her for the very first time. And he did not like what he saw. She shuddered and fought against the tightness in her throat, the aching sorrow in her chest, until it heaved up inside her with a wrenching sob.
“I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.” She couldn’t stop saying it, pouring out all her regret in a torrent of meaningless syllables. She reached for him and he stumbled back like her touch might burn him. Oh, God, if she never got to touch him again, to laugh with him...She couldn’t think about that.
“Not good enough.”
She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans and swallowed hard. “Let me explain.”
He shook his head and grabbed his keys off the hook by the pantry. “I don’t even know you, do I?”
“I’m still me, Tayber. We’re still us. I know I did something stupid...” She followed as he picked up his laptop and shoved it into the backpack still sitting on the floor by the futon.
“Stupid? You think? I’ll be back for the rest of my shit later. Around ten. You probably shouldn’t be here then.”
She hadn’t thought, and that was the problem. Or she’d thought too much. “Please, let me explain.”
He threw his bag over his shoulder and turned around. She’d thought she’d seen him angry that night in the bar. She’d been wrong. He curled his lip in disgust and sneered. “Go ahead, Callie, explain.”
She couldn’t explain it or justify it. No matter what she’d thought of him, or herself, he hadn’t deserved her lies, her manipulation. Her vision hazed out into tiny pinpricks of light at the edges. She dried her hands again and again, wringing the hem of her shirt in front of her. Would they ever get dry?
“I didn’t trust—I didn’t—I—I—” She couldn’t get anything out. It was too important. And indefensible.
“Explain to me how deceiving me for months is okay. How tricking me into sharing the most personal details of my life is no big deal. You violated me. For what? So we could fuck around? You only had to ask.”
“I didn’t know how.” And she wanted more than that. But how could she tell him that? She felt small and very far away.
“Sasha did.”
His words were a bee sting, a shocking burn. Her face flamed as she remembered all the things she’d told him. All the things she couldn’t tell him now.
When he left, he didn’t even bother to slam the door. The jangle of keys, the barely audible click of the lock, the muffled thump of his footsteps trailing off, were all more devastating and final. She’d known this confession would be ugly and painful, that it would make him hate her. At least she didn’t need to hate herself anymore.
She didn’t deserve to cry, not for the person she had been, the one who couldn’t be honest with anyone. Maybe for Tayber, who had deserved her truth much sooner. Or for Jessa and her aunt. For everything awful and unfair and unforgivable in the whole fucking world. But not for herself. Never that. She choked it all back, squeezing her fingers into fists, nails cutting deep into the flesh of her palms. She’d cried enough in high school. Maybe she’d deserved that too.
Chapter Eleven
The force of his fury propelled him four blocks before he remembered he had a car. Tayber stopped in the middle of the broken sidewalk and bent over, hands on his knees, to get some blood back in his brain. That stitch in his chest was from exertion, not heartbreak, right?
He wanted Callie to take it back, to tell him she’d snooped on his laptop and was playing a practical joke. But as soon as she’d said it, he knew it was true. Her confession had been the last puzzle piece falling into place. And it fit. He didn’t have to jam at the edges or pound it with his fist. It fit. Why had she done it? To make fun of him? To dig up dirt? To use him for a thrill and then throw him away?
All he could do was breathe, and curse, and pick himself up to walk back to his car. He’d been living in Callie’s bubble even more than he’d realized. She knew everything about him, and he knew nothing about her. Less than nothing, because what he did know could be all lies.
When he rounded the corner into the parking lot, his bastard brother was leaning against his car, arms crossed, sunglasses blocking eyes Tayber knew looked exactly like his own. Salt in a motherfucking paper cut.
“Hear me out.” Aaron held up his hands, palms out. Warding Tayber off and beckoning at the same time.
He didn’t know if he wanted to punch him again or hug him. He jogged ahead, fists balled, but Aaron didn’t move. Tayber launched himself and Aaron caught him. The punch he’d been considering melted into a gut tap, his other arm wrapped around his brother’s neck. He should still be angry—and he was—but it was muted now, like he only had enough room in his heart to be angry with one person he loved at a time. Squeezing, he buried his face in Aaron’s shoulder.
He hadn’t hugged his brother in eight years, maybe longer, but it was only awkward for a moment. It melted into warmth and safety. Comfort. “Fine, you fucker, fine. You win.”
“Yeah, I do.” Aaron squeezed him again and stepped back, gripping Tayber’s shoulders.
“You alright? You blew outta that apartment like you were dodging the cops. I was about to tear after you once I realized no one was following behind.”
He almost wished he were in trouble with the cops, then maybe Aaron could help him. No, not even that. His brother hadn’t fought his battles for him in years. He shrugged out of his grip. “I don’t even know.”
“Fight with the girlfriend? I know I bolted from Kelsey like that a few times. Usually she was throwing my shit at me while I ran.”
Kelsey, of course. That was the girl Aaron had taken off with. He remembered her like a cloud of Baby Soft perfume mixed with smoke. Sweet and harsh. Callie wouldn’t throw things. She’d probably box his stuff up neatly and set it in the corner. Damn. He didn’t want to go back up there and deal with her. He jingled the keys in his pocket. “You hungry?”
“I could murder some burgers. There’s this dive attached to my motel...”
He lobbed the keys. “You drive, old man. I’m not up for it.”
He hopped into the passenger seat, Callie’s seat, and cursed. He knew if he reached under the seat he’d find a brush full of her hair, a CD with her handwriting scrawled across the front.
The scent of her shampoo clung to the headrest. She lingered. He ducked his head and focused on breathing through his mouth.
They pulled up in front of a faded motel that seemed to exist solely to house family members in town for tours, sporting events, and graduations. “I’m staying here for now. Until I figure out my next move.”
“You seen Mom yet?”
“Nope.”
“Do you plan to?”
“Are we going to sit here and stroll down Bad Memory Lane, or are we going to eat?”
The neon ‘open’ sign in the front window of the motel’s attached diner—Moonlight Fries—glowed blue and pink, a beacon guiding them toward greasy potatoes and sloppy burgers. They settled into a booth. A perky waitress in a mustard-yellow uniform took their orders and dropped off two glasses of ice water. He didn’t recognize her and for some reason that made him feel better.
“So I figure some pretty bad shit had to go down between you and your girl to get you sitting here with me right now.”
“I don’t want to talk about that. I’d rather know why you left and never looked back.”
“I looked back every damn day, but I couldn’t go back. You had a chance without me. You were so smart, but you followed me around like a puppy. Anything I did, you were right there doing it too.”
“What’s wrong with that? You’re my brother. You took care of me.”
“Oh, grow up. I shouldn’t have been taking care of you, doing Mom’s job. I thought maybe if she didn’t have me to fall back on she’d ac
tually do it. Did she?”
“You have to know that she didn’t.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, nape to crown, the same way Tayber did when he was overwhelmed. It was strange seeing so much of himself in his brother when they’d been separated for so long.
“She got you here.”
Tayber knew he meant to Copeland, not to this crummy diner. The crummy diner was more her speed.
“All me. I had to forge her signature on my applications. A few months ago, she pinched off the last trickle of financial support. I hope you’re paying for dinner.”
Aaron grunted. “Yeah, I got this.”
“It’s like, she wanted me to go to college in theory, but she didn’t understand her role in the process. She was fine with picking out my sheets, but orientation weekend? I drove myself.”
“Did you tell her you wanted her to go with you?” Aaron stacked coffee creamers into a pyramid.
“No. She should have known.”
“How? It’s not like she went to college. Besides, did you really want her there?”
He couldn’t picture his mother making small talk with professors or imagine the kinds of questions she might have asked. The only meaningful question she’d asked him was how much it was going to cost her. “I guess I was kind of relieved she didn’t come. I haven’t been back home more than a few times since.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it? Realizing that what you want and what you need don’t always line up.”
“I can feel the old neighborhood pulling me. I’m still too close here. I know it’s only forty-five minutes if I don’t hit any red lights. I just want to finish this degree and get a job and start my fucking life. As far away from Dirty Denham as I can get.”
“What do you think I wanted, Tayber?”
“So I was right all along. You did leave because of me.” The words were like gravel in his throat, but he had to finally get them out.
“No. I left because of me. It was all I could do to take care of myself. I’m so sorry I hurt you, but you gotta understand. I was a kid too. I kept looking for somewhere better, somewhere easier, and next thing I know it’s eight years later and there still aren’t any picket fences.”
Fuck, I’m not much older than he was when he left. He did need to grow up. “How far did you get?”
Aaron looked down at his burger, and then pushed the plate toward him. “Far enough to know that ‘far enough’ isn’t on any map.”
Tayber slumped, the truth about the impossibility of escape dragging him down. “You got two beds in your hotel room?”
“Honeymoon over already?”
“It wasn’t like that.” Actually, it was exactly like that. He shifted, remembering how much like that it was. God damn her.
“She seemed pretty concerned about your wellbeing. That’s more than some guys get.” He reached around to rub his own shoulder, reminding Tayber of Callie’s small fists pounding into Aaron’s broad back.
“She wasn’t honest.”
“Who the fuck is honest? We’re all just doing what we can to get by. She cheat on you or something?”
She hadn’t cheated on him. There hadn’t been a chance for that. But she had cheated. She’d cheated them out of something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was. He couldn’t tell Aaron what she’d done, his pride wouldn’t let him.
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t stay there anymore.”
“You can sleep in the tub. I only have one bed and I’m not giving it up, even if you are heartbroken.”
“I am not heartbroken. I’m pissed.”
“Sometimes that feels pretty much the same.”
Tayber flicked a sugar packet at Aaron’s creamer tower. They all fell down.
* * *
Aaron’s hotel room was a lot like the dorms, frigid and spartan, only more depressing. Tayber tossed his bag on the desk chair. “Home sweet home.”
“Not for long. I’ll rent an apartment eventually.” His keys clattered on the nightstand.
“Here?”
“It’s as good a place as any. And you’re here.”
“For now. I’ll graduate.”
“I’m not buying a house. Can’t we just try being a family again, for a little while? Give me a chance?”
“Let me have the bed and I’ll think about it.”
“Fuck that. I’m too old for sleeping in bathtubs. Besides, you’re already thinking about it. I can tell. You’ve got that look you used to get when you wanted half my sandwich.” Aaron stripped the comforter off the double bed and tossed it to him, followed by a pillow.
The bathroom was small, but at least it was clean. The scent of bleach tickled his nose and he fought back a sneeze. He’d slept worse places, a sketchy futon in a frat house game room, the backseat of his car. He considered bringing his boxes inside. He could put them in the tub and then he could sleep in the car. Too much work. At least they’d gotten his shit back without incident.
He made a nest in the tub and stripped down to his shorts, leaving his clothes in a pile on the counter. Curled up with his foot jammed under the faucet, the air conditioner humming, he couldn’t settle.
“Tell me where you went, Air? Please.” And just like that, he was ten again, begging to tag along with the big kids. A knot the size of a fist settled in his throat. Only the truth could dislodge it. He was certain.
“I enlisted. I married Kelsey. Neither lasted as long as I thought they would.”
At least now Tayber knew. It was what he’d wanted for so long. To know. Only now he didn’t want to walk away.
At least now he knew about Callie, too. And Sasha.
“Air?”
“Tay.”
They were like the fucking Waltons calling to each other through the bathroom door. “She lied to me. A lot.”
“Why?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.”
“People lie for a lot of reasons. Because they want things they aren’t supposed to have. Because they’re afraid of the consequences. Because they don’t want to hurt or be hurt. Any of that ring true?”
All of it. Huddled in the tub, with the faucet dripping on his big toe, he realized he hadn’t been exactly honest with Callie either. He’d hidden from his feelings because he’d thought he wasn’t supposed to have her, that he wasn’t good enough to have her. Bullshit. He’d never told her about the relationship he’d been having online. He hadn’t wanted her to judge him. More bullshit. Lies of omission.
And he’d lied right to her face, when he told her that all he wanted when he fucked someone was nothing. He’d lied to himself too.
He still had so many questions, big ones, like had she been lying to him as Sasha too? Was all of it fake? He didn’t think so, but he needed to know. Deserved to know.
If he could push his anger aside and give Aaron a chance to explain, he could do that for Callie too. He loved her. He couldn’t turn that off any more than he could cut off the stupid leaky faucet.
* * *
Two days felt like a month. Tayber’s things had vanished, as promised, and Callie’s tiny apartment felt enormous. She rattled around aimlessly, leaving a trail of empty soda cans and cookie crumbs behind her. She’d done something stupid. Destroyed something special. Now she couldn’t focus on anything at all.
She tried to work on a paper, but it was pointless. She set her laptop on the floor beside her bed and pressed her face into the pillow that still smelled faintly like him. Eventually that would fade too, along with this ache.
Blip. She ignored it. It couldn’t be anyone she wanted to talk to, any email she wanted to read.
Blip. Blip. Blip.
Fine. She grabbed the infernal device, determined to shut it up. And then her head swam. What the hell was he doing IMing Sasha?
Tay: Hey
Tay: Are you there?
Tay: I want to meet you.
Shitshitshit. She got up and paced a tiny circle at the foot of her bed. I need a cookie.
Half an Oreo sat lonely and forgotten on her nightstand with all the cream licked out. That’ll do. She popped the whole thing in her mouth and, fortified, sat down to respond. Blip.
Tay: I think I deserve an answer.
Sasha: I’m here, and you know where I live. You still have a key.
Tay: Not Callie. Sasha.
Sasha: She isn’t real.
Tay: Isn’t she? She seemed real enough the last time I talked to her.
Yes. She was real enough. And the fact that he seemed to think so swelled something inside her, something fragile and terrible and a lot like hope.
Sasha: I’ll be at Spring Fest tomorrow doing a spot for Random Nonsense from one to two. You can meet ME after.
Which me did she mean? Could she be Sasha for him? Was Sasha what he really wanted?
* * *
“CJ Evans here, one half of Random Nonsense. You might have heard me and JC on the air, if any of you listen to the campus radio station on Friday nights.”
The smattering of applause was reassuring. The more she talked, the less she worried that someone was going to pelt her with rotten produce.
“Now, here’s a little digital Vitamin C to go with all the Vitamin D you’re soaking up.”
Fifty sun-starved co-eds writhed on the quad, bouncing in time to pop songs that Jessa would’ve ground her teeth over if she’d tried to play them on their show. The WCCC booth at Spring Fest wasn’t really an on-location broadcast. They didn’t have the equipment for that. Today they were glorified party DJs, and tonight their regular spot would be nothing but dead air. Unless Callie skipped the parties and did the show herself. Maybe she would do it herself. It wasn’t like she wanted to party. Not now. She probably wouldn’t want to do anything after she talked to Tayber. Her belly flipped.
“Why aren’t you gloating?” Jessa leaned close and shouted.
“Gloating is mean?”
“You should be grinning like mad. These are your jams aren’t they?”
“Not today.” She didn’t want to tell Jessa what she’d done, what had happened with Tayber. And if she did, she certainly wouldn’t tell her here, in the middle of all these people, shouting over the music.