“Yes,” Adele shouts while jumping up and down.
Gran laughs and stands. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll go to the store and get the ingredients. Maybe I’ll pick up some cookie dough as well.” Gran hoists her purse higher on her shoulder. “Gramps is in the kitchen, he can use some company. He’s already read that damn paper twice.”
“Sounds fun,” I say.
“It’s hot, can we just go in?” Ava complains. I wish she were my sister so I can slap her. I’ve only been around the girl for twenty minutes, but she’s on my nerves. I don’t know how Wyatt does it.
“I’ll be back shortly.” Gran runs her hand over Adele’s head. They just met, but I can tell they’ll be good friends. Kids just love Gran.
She squeezes my shoulder when she passes, and I wish she didn’t have to go because I seriously don’t know what to do with them.
“Let’s go inside,” I say. “I’m sure Gramps would love to meet you.”
“Yay, more people,” Ava says sarcastically.
What is wrong with her? I wasn’t this moody when I was eleven, neither was Dakota. I decide the best course of action is to ignore her, so I grab Adele’s hand and lead them inside.
Chapter 7
Wyatt
I park Marley’s car in the long driveway. The car, the house, even the damn driveway are all impressive. I almost don’t want to get out of the car. The house in front of me is large, but not excessively so. I don’t feel intimidated by it, like I do every time I go home.
Something about the house draws me in.
The text Marley sent me tells me to park in front of the garage, so I do. I’m glad she slipped her number into my apron when we exchanged keys. Otherwise, I would have had a hard time finding the house. This street isn’t heavily populated. The houses are spread quite a bit apart.
An older woman with dark gray hair opens the door after I ring the bell. “You must be Wyatt.” She smiles a big, bright smile.
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply politely and I try to return her smile, but honestly, I’m not big on smiling.
“Well come on in. The girls are in the den with Frank and P-Marley.” Her face flushes and she turns her eyes away from me. I spend most of my time watching and studying other people. She almost said something besides ‘Marley,’ my curiosity, and my suspicion are raised.
“Great, I’ll just go get them, so we can get out of your way.”
“Oh, they’re no trouble at all. Come in, why don’t you come with me to the kitchen. You haven’t eaten, have you? I still have some food. Frank always complains about how I cook too much, but he’s sure grateful when he’s having leftovers for lunch.”
“I don’t want to impose, really, ma’am. I think it’s best if we go home.”
“Nonsense, a growing boy your age needs to eat. They’ll be fine. If you want to check on them, you can. And call me Jodie, please.”
Jodie leads me down the hall and into the den. I can’t help but notice how there are many family pictures on the wall. The curious part of me wants to stop and look at them. But the suspicious part just wants to get my sisters and run. I’m not used to this.
I have to do a double take as I stand in the doorway to the den. An older man, who must be Marley’s grandfather, Frank, sits in a worn-out armchair, reading, Ava sits on the couch next to him, watching some teen show she likes. Adele sits on the floor, coloring in a coloring book that’s set on the coffee table. And Marley sits on the couch behind her, softly talking to her while also watching the show on the television.
“Look who’s here,” Jodie says in her cheerful voice. Every head in the room turns to look at me, and for some absurd reason, I feel nervous.
“We don’t have to leave yet, do we? It’s just getting to the good part,” Ava whines and I’m shocked. Not by her whining, that’s normal, but at the fact that she doesn’t want to leave, even if it’s because she’s watching some ridiculous show.
“I’m making a picture,” Adele calls out. I guess that means she doesn’t want to leave yet either.
“Don’t worry. Wyatt is going to have dinner before y’all leave. So get back to what you were doing.” Jodie says, placing her hand on my shoulder and turning me away.
“Fifteen minutes, girls,” I call over my shoulder.
I catch Marley’s eye, she gives me a small, sad smile. I don’t even bother returning it.
Jodie talks my ear off about things I don’t give two shits about. And she knows it. I think that’s why she does it. You can’t help but like Jodie. She’s something else, bright, cheerful, and kind. She is obviously a nurturer. She is everything I’ve always wanted in a grandmother. Hell, everything I always wanted in a mother.
And that scares me. I don’t want my sisters to become attached. I don’t want to become attached. This whole friendship thing with Marley is new, and it can end at any time. She doesn’t trust me, and I don’t trust her. But for some inane reason, I want her to trust me.
I meant what I said, I will never hurt her. I promised her that I wouldn’t. And I don’t break promises; I’ve grown up in a world where broken promises are common. I make it my mission never to break one.
Which is what makes this all the more confusing. I want to trust her, I want to let her see more parts of my fucked-up life, yet at the same time, I want to push her away. I want to shield myself from the destruction I know she’s going to cause. I want to shield her from my mother, from my sisters. I won’t hurt her, but I know they inevitably will.
Jodie leaves the room after she sets a plate in front of me. I eat slowly as I gaze around the spacious kitchen. It’s rare that I have a good home cooked meal. Mary cooks and stocks the freezer four days a week, the other three days it’s up to me to feed the girls. Usually, it’s boxed mac and cheese or grilled cheese. Sometimes I’m too tired for even that, then they get whatever fast food place I feel like driving to.
Jodie comes back in right as I’m finishing. “I can do that,” I say, as she takes my plate to the sink.
“Oh no, don’t worry about it. Cleaning is something that I do. Even if it drives both Frank and our cleaning lady crazy.” She smiles another bright smile before turning the water on.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Of course dear. You’re a friend of Marley’s, I’m happy to feed you.”
I was thanking her for much more than the food, and she knew that.
I leave the kitchen and start for the den, but a picture on the wall catches my eye, right before I get to the den. The portrait of two girls with red hair. It’s easy to see that the one with blue eyes is younger. She’s cute I suppose, but she reminds me of my sister.
However, the second girl, the one with the long dark red hair, and beautiful green eyes, is the one that catches my attention. The picture is obviously a few years old. The smile she sports is brilliant, and I would do anything to see it in person and those green eyes shine with life. There’s no doubt that this girl is happy. But there also isn’t a doubt that it’s Marley.
A cut, a dye job, and some contacts can make her hair and eyes different colors, but I’ve spent too much time studying this girl to know that the one in the picture is her. And I don’t know what to do with that revelation.
***
My room is my solace. It’s the only place in this house that I care to be in. Adele is down for the night, and Ava is in her room, hopefully going to bed. I’m not in the mood to deal with her tonight.
My mind has been spinning since I saw that picture in Marley’s house. But really what can I do? I’ve seen the look in her eyes; I see the way she holds herself. She’s trying to hide from something, and as much as that type of complication wants to make me stay far away from her, I want to help her at the same time.
This girl is driving me crazy, and she’s only been here a month. I don’t think that I can stay away, but I don’t think I can handle staying close as well. I want to get to know her. I want to take the sadness out of her eyes, but at what price?<
br />
I’m not one to let anyone else in my life. But these past few weeks have shown me how ill-equipped I am to deal with this shit. I’m not even seventeen for fuck’s sake.
Decisions need to be made, and soon. Things need to change around here. I just wish I knew what.
Marley
Wyatt is waiting by my locker this morning. I stop in the middle of the hallway causing people to bump into me from behind, and call me a few choice names as they walk around me.
Wyatt and I lock eyes, neither of us move. I need my book for first period, but I don’t want to confront him. He was weird when he left my house Saturday night. And I’m not sure if I want to know why.
Taking a breath, I walk forward until I’m a few feet from him.
“Good morning,” Wyatt says.
“Morning. Do you need something?” That came out bitchier than I intended, but I can’t help it.
“Not really, I just…I just wanted to talk to you, to walk with you.”
“Um, really, why?”
“I don’t know, is this something that friends do? Walk to class together.” He shifts and sticks his right hand in his pocket, his left hand taps restlessly against his leg.
“Sure, I guess.” This is so weird.
After grabbing my history book, we slowly walk to class together. I can hear the whispers and feel the stares. High school is so ridiculous.
Throughout the day Wyatt finds me and insists on walking me to class. I don’t say anything, only because I can see in his eyes that he wants to say something.
During lunch, I’m about to head to our table when I’m stopped by Kala. “Rumor has it that you and Wyatt are a thing now.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb, Marley. He’s been escorting you to all your classes. You guys were seen together all last week. He pays more attention to you than anyone else at this school. Everyone knows that Wyatt Hensley keeps tabs on us all. We look at him just as much as he looks at us.
So, are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what? That Wyatt is my only friend here? That he’s barely my friend? In case you haven’t noticed we hardly talk. You’re a nice girl, Kala, and I don’t want to be a bitch to you. So you can tell Mikayla that she needs to do her own dirty work from now on. What Wyatt and I do is not anyone’s business but ours.
Either stay out of it, or I will cut you down.” My voice is low; I pack it with as much bitch as I can. I’ve tried so hard to hide this part of me, but it’s not something that can be done easily.
I know the type of girl Mikayla is, I used to be a part of that crowd. I hated every second of it, but I can’t deny that it feels good to let the anger out. Even if it’s directed at the wrong person.
As I leave Kala standing in the middle of the cafeteria, I can feel all the eyes on me, but that’s nothing new. I’ve learned to tune them out.
Wyatt looks up at me, his clear eyes shining with something I can’t decipher. “You don’t have to defend me,” he says softly.
“I was defending myself,” I snap, still riding on the high lashing out at Kala gave me. “I’m tired of them thinking they know me.”
“Well they don’t, and they never will. You shouldn’t worry about them. They’re just spoiled rich kids who have nothing better to do than spend daddy’s money and gossip. They have no idea what the real world is like.”
I stare at him. My mind turns over his words a thousand different ways. There’s something in his voice that I can’t figure out. The second part of what he said is true, I agree wholeheartedly with him. But it’s the first part that bugs me.
I don’t know if it’s the way he said it, or the fact that he said it at all. But it makes me feel like he knows something he shouldn’t. He’s right, they will never know me. And neither will Wyatt, so why do I get the feeling that he’s already starting to unravel pieces of me?
Chapter 8
Marley
Surprisingly, Dad is at the kitchen table when I get home. I stop short, almost tripping when I see him. My dear father has been mostly MIA since we got here. He claims he’s working at the office, trying to transition all the projects from Gramps’s charge to his own, but I know him better than that.
He’s avoiding me.
When he looks up, he gives me a half-smile. “I’m still not used to your hair, Pay.”
If you were here more, you’d be used to it. “I know, neither am I. I miss it sometimes.”
“Well, you can always change it back. I’m sure your grandmother would love to take you to the salon.”
“No, that’s not possible. I can’t.” I sit across from him. We study each other, and I’m shocked to see that he looks so old.
His dark blond hair is graying; his blue eyes are tired looking. They used to be the same shade of blue as my sister’s. But now, they’re red-rimmed and have bags under them.
His unshaven jaw tells me that this is not the dad I’ve known and loved my whole life. I have to remember, it was not just my life that got turned upside down-it was his too.
“Have you talked to her? Dakota, I mean.” He must see the horrified expression on my face. Just the thought of her disgusts me.
“No, I haven’t. I had Gran take me to change my number, remember?”
“Yes, I know. But, Pagan, she calls the house.”
“Don’t call me that.” I look away from him. I don’t want him to see how weak she makes me.
“That’s your name. I will call you by it. This Marley persona you cooked up, that’s not you. You’re trying to be something you’re not, Pagan. And I can see how much it hurts.
I know I’m not around as much as I probably should be. And I’m sorry, but I’m hurt too. We were both blindsided. But so was your sister. She still needs you.”
“She made her choice. And really, you have no place to be telling me any of this. You should just be here for me. You’re not the only one she screwed over.”
“I know, Pagan. I know. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now. I’m going to be better. I promise. I just need time. Please, just give me time.”
“You’re right, you have no idea how I’m feeling. And that’s probably because I decided a long time ago not to feel. It’s easier that way. The less you feel, the less chance of getting hurt.”
“That’s no way to live.”
“It’s surviving. And that is all that matters.”
Standing up, I walk out of the kitchen, and I don’t look back. In my mind, that’s just one more piece of my past that can be buried. I don’t need him.
***
Again I find myself sitting in the abandoned field. I don’t know what it is about it that draws me here. But I can’t deny that the scenery is amazing, nothing but acres of wildflowers and grass, with the clear blue sky above me. It’s hot, there isn’t very much of a breeze today.
Turning my face up to the sky, I close my eyes and pretend I’m a million miles from here. Where exactly, I don’t know, and that is the beauty of it.
I don’t have to think of backstabbing sisters, or worthless fathers, or burdened boys. I can just be me-which me, is the question, though. One is a lie, the other is nothing.
I thought I had my life all figured out. I was popular; I had a boyfriend who wasn’t a douche. I didn’t have many friends, but I’ve never needed friends. I had a mother, a father, and a sister. I knew what college I was going to go to after graduation.
And then I realized it was all a lie. I realized my whole life was a house of cards, just waiting for the slightest push of air to knock it over.
Unfortunately, the destruction came in a strong gust of wind, not only knocking my house over but scattering the cards.
Now, I don’t know what to do.
It’s stupid really. I shouldn’t let the decisions of others affect me this much. But I can’t help it. All I can do is think, and think, and think until I feel like I’m going insane. Or maybe I already have.
This time when I h
ear the motorcycle and know who’s on it, I don’t feel dread, or annoyance, or whatever the fuck it was the last time he found me out here.
I, strangely, feel relief. Because I know that I’m not alone.
Wyatt might not know the real me. But somehow, he knows me. Maybe I’m stupid, or insane, or just really fucking tired. But it feels right. So when he sits next to me, I give him a bit of truth.
“I hate my father. But I love him at the same time. I hate what’s he’s done to me. But love him at the same time, because he hasn’t really done anything. I don’t hate him for all the shit he hasn’t done. It’s so confusing.”
“I don’t know my father. I know his name, I know what he looked like, but I don’t know him. He left my mother when I was two, and then died a year later. I know I have family in California. But I’ve never met them. I know I own half of the company my father started with my uncle.
I know I have a trust fund that could support this whole town for the next eighty years or more.”
“What are we doing, Wyatt?” I keep my face turned to the sky.
I’m hyperaware of him, the way his leg presses lightly against mine, the way he takes an audible breath and lets it out slowly.
“I don’t know. But I like knowing that you know about my family. I have this strange inclination to tell you everything, but I can’t. I fear you, I respect you, and I might even like you.
All I know is, I can’t let you go. At least not yet.”
“Okay.” I have nothing else to lose.
“Okay,” he whispers so softly, if I weren’t paying extreme attention to him, I would have missed it.
His fingers wrap around mine, flipping my hand over I clasp onto his.
So here we sit. Not moving, not talking, barely even breathing. The only thing connecting us to the earth is the grip we have on the other’s hand.
Chapter 9
Wyatt
Something changed between Marley and me. I don’t know what exactly, but I can feel it. We’ve spent a lot of time together during the past week. Now I’m about to ask her for something huge. Something she probably won’t like. I know I wouldn’t like to be asked this, but I can’t do it alone.
Forever (Destroyed by Love #1) Page 5