Loving Skye: Book Three (The Texas Star Series 3)

by Kelsie Stelting

  “People don’t think like that in the real world,” she said.

  And I’d had enough. “I am not naïve, Liz. I’ve dealt with everything on my own since you left. You never came home, never called, never texted. I had to deal with all their crap by myself, and I’ve handled more than you know. I might be young, but I’m not stupid. I’m not stupid enough to throw something away just because I’m afraid.”

  She stared out the window. “You are stupid.” She choked over her words. “You should have given up on me.”

  “Never.”

  I used my phone to GPS directions to the show. Outside the venue, there was a giant line of people to get into the bar where he was playing. We had to drive nearly a mile away to find somewhere to stop, and I put the pickup in park.

  Liz had her eyes closed, her head leaned back against the seat. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, and not for the first time, I felt guilty. For her situation, for not letting her have a choice in coming here. But she already felt like she didn’t have a choice to be with Dorian, and I was trying to give her one. Whether she took it or not, well, that was up to her.

  “Liz,” I breathed. I put my hand on hers where it rested in her lap.

  “What?”

  “Can you look at me?”

  Her blue eyes, so much like my own, met mine. And hers were watering, just like mine.

  Now, this all felt stupid, ridiculous, half baked. I had to tell her what I was thinking. “I’m sorry I kidnapped you.”

  She snorted and wiped at her nose. “Kidnap is such a ridiculous word.”

  My lips twitched, unable to form a small smile. “Liz, I know this pregnancy has been hard for you. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, but I know what it’s like to feel alone and helpless and like your life isn’t even your own anymore. I wanted to give you a choice. Whatever you want to do.”

  Her eyes widened slightly. “What do you mean?”

  “Liz, if you want to, we can turn around and go home right now. But there’s a duffel bag in the trunk. It has your stuff and a purse in it. There’s almost five thousand dollars and the title to the pickup—that should give you an extra couple thousand if you find the right buyer. I know it’s not enough for a baby or an RV, but it’s a start.”

  “Skye, I can’t take your savings.”

  I shook my head. “I want you to have them—my niece or nephew to have them.”

  “But what about college?”

  “I’ll figure it out. I’ll do what it takes. And the pickup was yours. Mom and Dad just didn’t let you take it.” My eyes stung at the thought of all I was giving up, but I pressed on. “Dorian doesn’t know you’re here. If you want to be with him, go tell him. If you want to run away, now’s your chance. You have something to start with. Just…call me sometime?”

  Liz looked conflicted, staring from me through the back glass at the unassuming red bag. Then she launched herself into my arms, bawling.

  We cried together. But maybe about different things.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked into my shoulder.

  “Because I only deserve the kind of love I give.”

  She pulled back and put her hands on my shoulders. “I love you.”

  My lips trembled. “I love you too.” I put my hand over her stomach that was barely even showing signs of the life inside. “And I love you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I walked away from the pickup, carrying only my purse, phone, and a hundred dollars—all the things I had to my name. I didn’t look back to see which option Liz chose, whether she went to the concert to see Dorian or drove away to have a new life. It didn’t really matter what she did, as long as she had the option to choose her own path. And at least I’d been able to give her that.

  When I got to the gas station a few blocks away, I saw Rhett’s pickup parked at a pump and got in.

  He looked over at me, his hazel eyes laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

  I barely managed a smile. “I am. For now.” But then the thought crossed my mind of my parents and Andrew at my house, worried with a birthday cake and banners, and I broke down crying. Rhett comforted me, but silent tears didn’t stop streaming down my face until Rhett had driven us well outside of the Dallas city limits.

  “Skye,” he said. “You need to call your parents. They’re probably worried sick.”

  For all their faults, they’d noticed my absence on my birthday and had been trying to get in touch with me. But I didn’t want to pop their bubble too.

  “Call them,” Rhett insisted, rubbing my shoulder.

  I breathed in deep and exhaled, then took my phone out of my purse. I had more than twenty missed calls and just as many text messages.

  I pressed the buttons to call the person I was most upset about hurting that night. Andrew.

  It only rang once before he picked up, sounding worried. “Skye! Are you alright? Where are you?”

  “I’m okay, I’m okay,” I rushed out. “I’ll be home in a few hours.”

  The phone shuffled, and my mom’s voice came through the speakers. “Where are you?”

  I closed my eyes. “I’m on my way home.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “I…” I looked over at Rhett. “I’ll explain later.”

  “No, you’ll explain right now.”

  I hit the end button. There would be time later.

  “Everything okay?” Rhett asked.

  I shook my head.

  A line formed between his eyebrows, but he kept his gaze on the dark road ahead of us. “I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

  A sob hit my chest, and I croaked. “I know.”

  “Good.”

  He held my hand, not like a boyfriend would, but like a friend. His warm grip felt like the only thing grounding me in this world, saving me from the pit of despair I knew was waiting for me at home.

  More messages were already flashing across my phone screen.

  Andrew: Skye, what’s going on?

  Mom: Where the hell are you and Liz?

  Andrew: Please, you know you can trust me, right?

  Dad: Get home now.

  Andrew: I’m sorry for whatever I did.

  Mom: I will call the cops if you don’t get home within the hour.

  Andrew: I have to go home. Call me. Please.

  I turned my phone off. I didn’t need it anymore. Right now, I needed to figure out why I felt so hollow. Why the world felt like it was ending.

  Streetlights bled into the cab of Rhett’s pickup, dancing over my closed eyelids, and he slowed down. And then stopped.

  I blinked my eyes open and saw he had parked in front of a restaurant.

  “What are we doing?”

  He killed the engine. “Eating.”

  “Don’t we need to get home?”

  He lifted a brow. “You in a hurry?”

  The corners of my lips turned up, if only slightly. “No. But I don’t have any money.” Not any that I could spend on eating out.

  His expression softened. “It’s on me, Hoffner.”

  For the next hour and a half, we stuffed ourselves. The waitress gave me a dessert for my birthday, on the house, and I pretended I was a normal girl on a normal date. But that couldn’t last forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I convinced Rhett to drop me off half a mile from my house so he wouldn’t get in trouble. I didn’t know whether Mom was being serious about her threat or not, but I wasn’t risking it. Not to mention what Dad might have done if he’d seen me roll up with Rhett.

  Rhett parked alongside the road and looked at me. “I’ll see you Monday morning?”

  I nodded, swallowed. “Thanks for picking me up.”

  Wordlessly, he wrapped me in a hug, and I let his arms comfort me.

  “I love you,” I said.

  I didn’t mean it like a boyfriend or anything. And I think he got that, because he just said, “I love you too,” and kept hugging me unt
il I pulled back. “For a city girl, you’ve got some balls.”

  I snorted. “Thanks.”

  I got out of the pickup and started walking. There weren’t too many streetlights out here, so I didn’t worry about someone seeing me. I’d be home soon, but I didn’t want to rush it. And I still needed time to plan what I’d tell Mom and Dad. I was drawing a blank.

  For a little while, I’d considered lying—telling them Liz had stolen the pickup or that her husband had found us and drove off with her, but I didn’t have the heart to do it. This had been my decision, and I needed to live with it. Even if it meant ruining everything we’d built this summer.

  When I got a quarter mile from the house, I stopped and turned my phone on so I could call Andrew. There was no telling what Mom and Dad would do when I walked inside—it wouldn’t have been the first time Mom broke a phone.

  As the ringing tone came through the speaker, I held my breath.

  “Skye?” Andrew said.

  “Andrew,” I breathed, “I had to call you before I got home.”

  “What’s going on?” He didn’t sound mad. He sounded hurt.

  So I told him. About giving Liz an option to live her life.

  “You couldn’t tell me?” Now anger blended with his voice. “I sat at your parents’ house for hours, worrying about you. We thought you were in a car accident or something!” He was practically yelling now. “I get why you wouldn’t trust them, but me? You can’t just ignore me every time you’re uncomfortable or scared!”

  Each of his words hurt worse than all the money I’d given up, because I’d finally learned what mattered to me more than getting away, and it was the people I cared about. “I know I screwed up. I’m sorry. But I couldn’t risk letting my parents know.”

  He quieted. “You don’t trust me. Still.”

  “No, Andrew, that’s not—”

  “I get it. Just…next time you need a fall guy, find someone else.”

  The line went quiet, and my chest froze. Of all the horrible ways my night could go, I hadn’t pictured losing Andrew. And now it was about to get worse.

  No cop cars waited in front of my house, but I almost wished there would have been someone in uniform to diffuse the tension. Slowly, I trudged up the front path and the steps. Our peeling front door loomed in front of me, the only barrier left between me and the chaos to come. And I pushed it open.

  Mom stood in the kitchen, and Dad sat in the living room. For the first time, the television was off. Banners and crepe paper decorated each room, saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY SKYE. They should have read SKYE’S THE WORST instead.

  Mom and Dad both spun to look at me, and Dad stood up. “Skye, where were you? Where’s Liz?”

  I’d start with the easier question. “I don’t know where Liz is.”

  Mom stared at me. “Did she run off and leave you somewhere?”

  It would have been so easy to say yes. “No. I took her to Dallas, and I left her with the pickup.”

  Dad’s face screwed up. “What?”

  Voice shaking, I told them about Liz’s pregnancy, that she wasn’t even going to tell her husband about the baby, much less Mom and Dad.

  I expected yelling, throwing things, maybe even physical violence. I hadn’t expected Dad to drop down to the couch and put his head in his hands. “Liz is pregnant?”

  I nodded, but he couldn’t see me. “About eleven weeks.”

  Mom folded her arms across her middle and put one hand on her mouth. “That’s why she came here.”

  Silence hung between us, confirmation of her guess.

  Instead of looking devastated like Dad, Mom stared at me, her eyes hard. “So you decided to take her away without even telling us?”

  Yeah, it sounded dumb when she said it like that. But she didn’t take into account how we’d been raised, how Liz felt. “She felt trapped, Mom. I didn’t tell her not to come back, I just tried to help her. I know you and Dad don’t have money for that.”

  “You didn’t even give us a chance,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I would have worked a second job—your dad could have worked harder to pick up more bids. And that pickup wasn’t yours to give away.”

  I stared at my feet. At the dusty floor I stood on. That was about all I had to stand on. “Liz’s name was on the title. It wasn’t mine to keep.”

  Mom’s eyes got red, but she wasn’t crying. She just looked at me with the coldest, deadest expression I’d ever seen. “Go to your room. I can’t see you right now.”

  I looked to Dad, but his head was still in his hands. His shoulders shook with silent sobs.

  “Now,” Mom breathed.

  I hurried to my room, not wanting them to see the tears streaming down my face. I’d given up everything for Liz—my college savings, my independence, even my boyfriend. And my sister. The one person in this entire world who knew what I was going through.

  Liz’s side of the room looked like it was just waiting for her to come back. Her blankets were still rumpled—Liz never made her bed—her pillows still held the shape of her head. I had never been crazy about sharing a room with my sister, but now it felt so empty without her.

  My bed, however, was not empty. Three presents sat on top. One from Mom and Dad, one from Liz, and one from Andrew. Even though it felt nothing like my birthday, I opened the gift from Mom and Dad.

  A small tablet and keyboard hid under the paper. I checked the plain notecard attached. For scholarship applications. -Love, Mom and Dad

  Pain tore through my heart, and I swallowed. Like that would help.

  Liz’s gift came next. A book of advice for high school graduates. On the inside cover, she’d written, Because I’m a crap sister, here’s this book for when things get tough and I’m not around. Love you to the sky and back.

  Now the tears came freely, pouring down my cheeks.

  Andrew’s present was clumsily wrapped in blue paper with a white bow, but I didn’t care. I peeled the paper back to see a book—The Perks of Being a Wallflower—and a ring. A simple silver band with a flat, silver cloud.

  The ring easily slipped onto my right ring finger, and I admired the way the light caught the smooth surface. I loved it. But I wanted to read the card. Andrew’s first, and probably last, letter to me.

  Dear Skye,

  Happy birthday. It seems crazy that after everything we’ve been through, I get to write you a birthday card. And let me preface this by saying I’m not great at this kind of thing. I’m much better at talking than I am at putting my heart on paper. But I had to tell you how incredible you are. No matter what you’ve been through, you still find a way to love others and to reach for the stars, even when they seem so far away. You make a guy want to stick with you, just to see how high you’ll go.

  Something you said the other day had me thinking. When you said you only deserve the kind of love you give. If that’s the truth, then you deserve the best this world has to offer. I hope you love the ring and the book.

  Love,

  Andrew

  I held the card to my chest and cried because I’d lost Andrew trying to be the kind of girl who deserved his love.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Rhett’s pickup pulled up alongside our house, and I jogged from where I waited on the porch to get in.

  “How did it go with the parents?” Rhett asked.

  I shut the door behind me. “Not great.”

  He took off down the road and handed me a travel mug of coffee. “How not great?”

  Tears came easily now, and I stared up at the gray ceiling upholstery. “They won’t talk to me. They just keep crying. Even Dad.”

  “Man, that’s tough.”

  I nodded and took a deep drink from my coffee. Rhett had added sugar, just like I liked.

  “What did Andrew say about it?” he asked.

  I choked on the hot liquid and started coughing.

  Rhett thumped my back. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I managed. Physically, at least.
/>   “So?”

  “Andrew broke up with me. He hasn’t responded to any of my calls or texts.” And here came the pity party. “Liz hasn’t told me where she is. My parents won’t talk to me. I have no idea how I’ll get to volleyball practice when the time comes because I have no pickup and no friends in town.”

  I rested my elbows on my knees and let my head hang low, trying to take in deep breaths. My new ring bumped into my chin from where it dangled on a chain around my neck.

  Rhett rubbed my back, his hand making slow, warm circles. “Skye, you’re tough as nails. You’ll work this out.”

  Still bent over, I looked at him. “How do you know?”

  A soft smile touched his lips. “Any girl who can run a skidsteer and build fence all day can handle a broken heart.”

  And, for my sake, I hoped he was right.

  I threw myself into my work, hoping it could somehow distract me from this pain. But I was kidding myself if I thought it could even come close. I felt my mistakes with every single breath whether I was at home or not.

  Neither Mom nor Dad were there when I got home from work, so I went to the bathroom and took a long, much needed shower. Usually I hurried in and out since we all shared one bathroom, but tonight, I took my time. When I stepped out the shower, my face was red from all the steam and my muscles felt like melting rubber.

  With a towel wrapped around my body and one around my hair, I went to my bedroom and lay down on the bed. I pulled out my new tablet and scrolled through Instagram, taking in everyone else’s photos of summer. There were beaches and mountains and grilled food and laughing friends. Summer love. A picture of Shelby and Damon kissing with the caption: Even if I spend the whole day with you, I miss you the second you leave. <3

  Apparently, they’d worked through the whole Damon-using-her-to-get-to-me thing.

  I sighed and exited out of Instagram, then pulled up Facebook.

  Shelby Reynolds and Damon Vaughn are in a relationship.

  Gag me.

  I typed in Dorian Gray and went to his page. He hadn’t posted since his concert. I kept hoping I’d see a status about him and Liz reuniting, but maybe that was too far gone. I knew the feeling.