Tight Knit

by Allie Brennan

  I cut the engine and have to pry her arms from me. I unsnap my helmet and then hers. Helping her pull hers off first. I’m glad I did because as soon as she’s free she starts hitting me. First she punches me in the chest, then slaps my arm and hits my helmet with both of her hands. I grab her hands. Her eyes are frantic and she’s not focusing on me or anything else.

  “Hey, hey? Talia. What’s wrong?” I press her hands to my chest so she can’t hit me again.

  “Nan?” Her voice squeaks and she’s breathing really fast, “Nan, I can’t.”

  My eyebrows sink. What is she talking about?

  She continues to ramble, the words come so fast and disjointed I can’t keep up.

  Great. She’s gone nuts and it’s my fault. I rip the helmet from my head and let it drop to the ground. It makes a loud sound and Talia jumps. She still won’t focus. She’s going to pass out if she keeps breathing like that.

  What the hell is happening?

  I’m slammed with a vision from my past. Fast breaths. Shaking. Terrified. My night terrors of him.

  I grab Talia and pull her close. I lean over her and burry my face in her hair and hold her tight. Her shaking body presses against me. I have no idea why I’m doing this but it worked for me. When I was scared. Gram would hold me like this. Tight, like she could squeeze the fear out of me.

  Her heavy breath heats my neck and I can’t see through her thick hair. I press my cheek to hers, like Gram used to do to me. My lips are by her ear. I know what I have to do, but I’m not entirely sure why. I take a deep breath, then pause. I feel like a fucking idiot. But she’s shaking so hard.

  I did this. I should never have brought her. I did this to her and I need to fix it.

  The tune is shaky and uneven at first but soon I am humming smoothly in her ear. It’s the same tune Gram always used to calm me from my dreams. I have no idea if it will work but I did this to her. I have to try.

  I move so that our foreheads are touching. I stroke her cheek and continue to hum.

  Her frantic gaze finally catches mine and it’s like a light switch goes on in her brain. She focuses on me and we just stare at each other. Her breath slows and the panic in her eyes dies down but they are wide. Tears slide down her face. I didn’t think it was possible for me to feel like a bigger asshole. But I do.

  I stroke her cheek with my thumb again then let my hand fall. She pulls back and wipes at her face with the sleeve of her sweater.

  “Talia,” I start. “Talia, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d get so upset.”

  She looks down into her lap and her thin pink lips turn up into a weak smile.

  “No, I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing.” She wipes her nose.

  “What was that?” I feel like she’s going to crumble to dust. I’m not too far off about how fragile she is.

  “A panic attack. It’s okay though, I’ve had them since I was a kid.”

  “Really. I’m so sorry,” I say again, and think of Gram’s words.

  You’ve been saying that a lot lately.

  “That song?” She tilts her head to the side. I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or not. She’s not looking at me.

  “I recognize that song.” This time she’s talking to me.

  “Gram used to sing it to me when I was a kid.” I shrug, hoping she doesn’t ask why. She doesn’t. She pulls her eyebrows together and touches her cheek.

  “Nobody’s been able to help me. Nobody but Nan.” She sounds confused. I think she’s talking to herself again.

  I open my mouth to ask what that means just as my phone buzzes in my pocket. Instead I just mutter a curse. Her head lifts but I don’t meet her gaze.

  I’m such a dick, and this isn’t going to make me look any better.

  “Listen, Talia. I have to do something really quick. I’ll be two minutes then I’ll take you home and you can hate me for forever, okay?”

  She nods slowly. I can tell she doesn’t trust me. I don’t blame her.

  “Two minutes.” I reach out and run my hand along her cheek once more before stepping away from the bike. I don’t remember the last time I’ve had a physical connection with someone for that long. The feel of her skin lingers on my fingertips until I ring the bell at Garrett’s.

  “You’re late,” he says when he opens the gate.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Talia

  I should leave. I should walk away from the bike, from Lachlan, but I don’t. I sit here. That tune is holding me here. Georgina’s tune.

  How?

  I press my hand to my cheek, the last of his toothpaste lingering in my nostrils. Lachlan had calmed me. He calmed my panic. He brought me back to myself. No one but Nan has ever been able to do that. Not Mom nor Dad nor Deacon nor Janna, not anyone. It’s almost enough to give me another panic attack.

  I climb off his bike and sit down on the curb, hanging my head between my knees and grabbing fistfuls of my hair.

  Night and day, that’s what Lachlan and I are. But for some strange reason I felt like he kind of got it, even though he caused it. He didn’t pull away or look at me like I was crazy. Maybe we do have something in common. The fact that no one gets us. That we’re always alone.

  But we’re so different.

  I force Lachlan from my thoughts and focus on my breathing. Expanding and contracting my chest slowly and smoothly. Counting how many seconds it takes me to breath in and out. My doctor told me it would help. It doesn’t help, it just gives me something else to think about for a while. My thoughts always end up back where they started in the end.

  Lachlan. The tune. Why I didn’t just walk away from him in the driveway. Why I reached for his hand. How he knew what to do to help me. The pressure of his body against mine, holding me, squeezing out the panic.

  I have the feeling I’m being watched and I part my hands to see Lachlan.

  “You okay?” His voice shakes a little, which doesn’t suit him at all. I’ve never heard a word come out of his mouth that wasn’t dripping with confidence.

  “Yeah.” I try to smile. “I’m fine, really. I’m just hungry, actually. The attacks make me hungry.”

  Lachlan smiles and the dying sun casts shadows across his face in all the perfect places. Definitely nice to look at.

  “I know just the place.”

  He holds his hand out to me and I glance sideways at the bike. I do not want to get back on that thing.

  “I’ll go slower. I promise.”

  He wiggles his fingers and I let him pull me up.

  He keeps his promise. I can actually see where we’re going and clutch at the sides of his worn out hoodie so I can lean back a little and watch the world fly by. It’s almost dark and I think about my parents. They’re probably worried about me. Wait, no, they probably don’t even know I’m gone.

  The wind whistles in my helmet and strands of hair whip around my neck, tickling my skin. Lachlan turns onto the bridge that leads to the other side of town, the tires rumble along the pavement. The sound vibrates through me, calming my nerves in the same strange way Lachlan did.

  The last hint of the sun bounces off the river and reflects back up at us. This isn’t how I imagined my night and under it all I’m not sure what to make of Lachlan’s actions, of my reactions or the effect he has on my anxiety. But I feel relaxed, which surprises me as much as Lachlan’s ability to calm me down with just a song.

  He turns and smiles, pulling me from my thoughts. He has a gorgeous smile when it’s full and genuine.

  ~

  The waitress brings the biggest piece of apple pie I’ve ever seen and drops two spoons on the table with a clatter. Lachlan laughs. It’s full-bodied and authentic. Real. And no doubt about it, southern.

  “I never said the service was great, but the pie’s amazing.”

  “But not as good as Nan’s,” I say at the same time as he says, “Not as good as Gram’s, of course.”

  We share a grin and then he leans back into the booth, laying his
arm across the back of the green stuffed vinyl backrest. The laid back I-don’t-care-about-anything Lachlan’s back. I find myself wanting to see more of that other Lachlan. The one that speaks with an accent and holds an ocean of secrets behind those dark brown eyes. I think about asking him about that tune he sang to me but decide against it. There’s more to his story but I have a feeling he’s not the sharing type.

  I pick up a spoon and take a small piece of pie. The warmth of the apple and coldness of the ice cream creates a soothing sensation as they mix together in my mouth. The pie is delicious, maybe even better than Nan’s.

  “So, why did you have to go to that house?” I ask feeling like it might be a sort of safe start.

  Lachlan shifts his gaze to his spoon, twirling it in his fingers. Not nervously, just twirling it.

  “No reason. A buddy lives there and I had to stop by.”

  I try to raise one eyebrow, but I can’t raise only one eyebrow so they both go up.

  “I don’t buy that. But it’s cool if you don’t want to tell me.”

  I really don’t know if he’s lying but Nan always says if people can’t look you in the eye when they answer a direct question they’re lying. That and a lot of people have been lying to me lately. It won’t hurt to call him on it.

  “I’m not lying.” Lachlan glances up at me with his eyes but his head stays down. Half of his mouth turns up into a smile and my stomach jumps.

  I can’t possibly. Be attracted to Lachlan McCreedy? No. He makes me uncomfortable. That’s what it is.

  “We should get going soon. It’s getting late.” I have a sudden need to get out of here, but the thought of being back on that bike, my body pressed to his, makes my heart race.

  My one leg bounces under the table and it’s my turn to avoid eye contact. I snap my wrists a couple times and stand up.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Mhm, fine.” It’s apparently my turn to lie too.

  He puts a couple bills onto the table and we leave.

  “I just have to stop somewhere quick. Two minutes, I promise. Then I’ll take you home.”

  I purse my lips together. I shouldn’t care what he’s up to but I do. I hold onto his waist and argue with myself about whether I want to be closer or farther away from him as he drives his motorbike to the outskirts of the city. This neighborhood is familiar to me. Why would Lachlan need to stop in Vista?

  Lachlan pulls up to one of the smaller houses on the block but it’s still huge. He hops off the bike and walks to the edge of the yard. He lobs something into the air over the fence. I frown at him as he walks back toward me.

  “What?” He asks.

  “Why did you just throw something into Deacon’s backyard?”

  Every feature on his face moves either straight up or straight down. The color drains.

  “That’s Deacon’s place. That little fuckin’ punk you used to date?”

  My frown deepens. “Technically you’re the punk, Lachlan. Deacon has never been to prison. He also doesn’t go around visiting creepy houses at night and throwing things into peoples yards.”

  Lachlan runs his hands through his hair.

  “I shouldn’t have brought you.”

  “Probably not.”

  “This isn’t good.”

  I grab a handful of his hoodie as he paces by me and tug on it. He stops.

  “Why, Lachlan? Why are you in trouble?” I know it’s no use, but I am going to try anyway.

  He shakes his head and continues to pace. I sigh. And I think I’m messed up.

  “I can’t help you if you won’t tell me.” I shrug and snap the chinstrap of my helmet shut.

  “I don’t need help.” His demeanor changes, his arms fold across his chest and he leans back on one leg. We're obviously back to Mr. Cool.

  “Sure you don’t.” I hand him his helmet from where it hangs on the handlebars.

  I’m hit with a realization as I watch him put on his helmet. He’s glancing at me, his eyes darting back and forth. He wants something from me. He has to or he never would have brought me here. I just wish I knew what it was.

  He drives me home. It’s much tenser than earlier. I feel his body rigid and stiff against my chest.

  The lights are out when we get to my house, which means my parents clearly weren’t concerned. I hand him back his helmet and he clips it on the bike. He watches me for a moment then his eyebrows furrow.

  “Listen, Talia. I’m sorry again, about, you know.” There is a heaviness to his shoulders as they hunch forward. The facade he’s hiding behind cracks open just for a second and I see something I never would have thought I’d see on him. An exhaustion I recognize. The effort it takes to keep everything and everyone out and the terror of what would happen if maybe, just maybe, it was time to let someone else in.

  He’s so broken. He’s so broken it makes me feel better. I know that makes me sound awful but I’m happy to know there’s someone out there just as messed up as me. Someone who is just as tired of trying to shut it all out. Now I wonder what’s the ‘it’ he’s keeping out.

  I reach out to touch his arm but stop myself halfway there and let my hand fall.

  “You didn’t know.”

  ~

  Lachlan’s missing from school for most of the week and surprisingly I’ve been watching for him. I keep catching myself humming Georgina’s tune. The one he used to help me calm down. For the fifth time, I look over my shoulder down the hall. I shouldn’t be thinking about him right now.

  I groan and continue rifling through my locker for the Math text that I lose on purpose. I see jeans and white sneakers walk up beside me. My heart thuds once in my chest and then stops beating altogether. What is wrong with me? Seriously! Deacon never made my heart jump like that and he was my boyfriend.

  I close the locker with a clang and see Lachlan’s crooked smile. He’s wearing a bright red, but worn Sam Roberts T-shirt, which impresses me. He has his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans and leans against the lockers. I notice that the leather band he always wears around his wrist has some sort of symbol on it.

  “Hey, Hat Girl, my eyes are up here.” I hear the laughter in his voice and my face burns.

  My head jerks upwards and I glare.

  “What does that symbol mean on your bracelet?” I ask quickly. The last thing I need is for him to think I’m staring at his crotch.

  He lifts his arm up, his tattoos stretching as his forearm flexes. The ones with the torn skin are horrifying but I can’t look away.

  “First of all, it’s not a bracelet. It’s a wristband. Got that, Hat Girl?” He pokes me in the shoulder, but I’m distracted by the three girls that are watching us with laser vision on the other side of the hall. The giggle trio from the first day of school.

  “Second of all,” he continues. “Come out with me tonight and maybe I’ll tell ya.”

  What?

  I have to swallow to keep my heart from beating right out of my mouth.

  “Uh.” My eyes snap back to him. I hug my textbook closer to me as my breathing speeds up to match my heart. “I, uh, can’t.”

  I turn and walk away as fast as I can. Lachlan asked me out and I said NO. No one says no to Lachlan. Wait, I don’t know that, but he has this aura that says he’s not used to hearing no. The look he gave me proves it. I don’t even know why I said no. I’m not doing anything tonight, except knitting with Nan.

  Although when I talked to her this morning she wasn’t too enthusiastic about my planned visit.

  “You know you’re always welcome here, darling.” The strain was evident. “But I’ll just be resting so I won’t be much fun today.”

  I could have said yes.

  No. No, I can’t go on a date with him. If it was even a date. Maybe it wasn’t a date. I feel stupid for thinking it was. He was probably just asking as a friend.

  I duck into the first bathroom I see and go straight to the sink. I squeeze my eyes closed and force my breathing to slow. I hat
e this. I hate that panic controls me.

  Someone clears their throat behind me. I look up into the mirror and see the color drain from my face.

  “Janna, hey.” I force my voice to stay even. Janna tucks a long red strand behind her ear. I can’t bring myself to face her, so I just watch her reflection in the mirror.

  “Hey, Tal. How are you?” Her eyes shift from the floor to me and back to the floor.

  I really don’t have time for this.

  “Fine.” I turn to leave. Is there nowhere sacred in this stupid school where I can be alone?

  Jenna grabs my arm and forces me to face her.

  “Tal, listen, I know you hate me. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. To your face, you know?”

  I feel my thoughts start to blend together as both panic and anger swirl inside me. The jumbled mess that is my mind spins until I land on Nan and something she had said to me when I was ten.

  “If you were really sorry, Janna, you wouldn’t have done it.” I yank my arm away.

  She looks at her feet again. She sniffs hard and rubs the heel of her hand on her eye. She’s trying not to cry. Janna never cries.

  “This is for the best. It sucks that you hate me but you have no idea-” She stops to regain her composure again.

  My body is vibrating and I want to shake my wrists. Crack my knuckles. Run a marathon. Anything to get the surge of energy out of me.

  “Have no idea about what? About how my best friend went behind my back and hooked up with my boyfriend? How’s that for the best.”

  She leans back against the stall and meets my eyes directly for the first time. There’s something in her eyes I’ve never seen before. A look I can’t place because it feels so foreign on her smooth and confident features. There’s something going on in her head I can’t figure out.

  “No Tal, you have no idea who Deacon is. You never came out of your shell long enough to see it, but I guess I didn’t see it either.” She averts her eyes again.

  “See what?” I’m not sure I want to know. The long and painful sigh that escapes her confirms that I probably don’t want to hear the answer. I cross my arms to try and stop the vibration pulsing through my body.