Tight Knit

by Allie Brennan

  Lachlan reaches over and takes my hand. I haven’t been to a party since Deacon, because Deacon actually has friends. I don’t. Now that I think about it, neither does Lachlan, well, other than his drug friends. My stomach ties in knots at the thought and I jump when he lets go of my hand and opens the door.

  I can hear the bass pumping from outside, which causes my heart to speed up, as if it’s trying to keep beat. Lachlan hooks his finger under my chin and pulls my face toward him.

  “It’s just a party, Tal. Just a party.”

  He’s never called me Tal before and surprisingly it calms me right down. Janna always calls me Tal. Called.

  He’s right. It’s just a stupid high school party.

  Lachlan takes my hand and walks into the house like he lives there, pulling me in behind him. We fight through an ocean of shoes and thick hot air makes my forehead instantly sweat. Lachlan nods to some people hanging around in the hallway as we weave through. I am still amazed at how calm and collected he seems all the time. I feel like everyone is staring at me.

  Wait. Everyone is staring at me.

  Eyes follow me, some confused, some shocked, some just mildly curious. I don’t know if it’s because I’m here with Lachlan or because I’m here at all.

  “You look scared,” Lachlan shouts over the music. “Just relax. Remember we’re here to have fun.”

  He squeezes my hand and I do relax. Just a little. Then I see him. Deacon.

  In the middle of the makeshift dance floor, Deacon and Janna are grinding against each other. It’s disgusting and not just because he’s my ex. They look wasted, sloppy. I don’t remember Janna being like this. Ever. My first instinct is to rip her away from him and take her home. Then I remember we aren’t friends anymore, and all the resolve to have fun is gone. I just want to be at home.

  I turn to walk the other way. My arms are shaking and my legs feel weak. I make it only a couple steps before Lachlan pulls me into him. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and buries his head into my hair. He hums a few notes of our song and I count my breaths to slow everything down.

  “Are you here with him, or are you here with me?” he says, his breath hot against my ear. A chill travels my spine and my arms go around him. He pulls back so he can find my lips with his and right there, in the middle of the party, he plants a kiss on me so deep my toes tingle. I’m dizzy when I pull back.

  Okay now everyone is definitely staring. Lachlan guides me to the kitchen, and I stumble a little. As soon as we step onto the hardwood floor I hear a screech. Some girl I don’t know is flying toward me, her arms outstretched. I try to step out of the way to let her pass but she follows me and slams her body into mine. She hugs me as she jumps up and down. I glance at Lachlan. I smell straight booze and my stomach turns.

  Help me, I plead with my eyes. He does nothing, just laughs as I pry this drunk, I-don’t-know-who, off me.

  “Hat Girl!” she screeches again then turns around. “Becky, Amber! It’s Hat Girl.”

  I’m so confused and people just keep bumping into me. I can’t think straight in this gross, hot, noisy room.

  How do people find this fun?

  Two more girls come up to us. They’re calmer and probably not quite as drunk.

  These were the three girls in the hall when Lachlan asked me out the first time. They weren’t ‘the’ girls but close. They look identical. Not in features, but the way their hair is straight, their lips are glossed, their jeans are tight and shirts too short. They even stand the same way.

  “So when do we get our hats?” one of the new comers asks. “We’ve been asking Lachlan, but he just won’t give it up. He says he’s not your agent.”

  The girl pouts at Lachlan and walks her fingers up his chest. I’m too confused to be at all jealous.

  “Your hats?” I stutter and the screecher laughs, pointing at my head. Lachlan steps behind me and grabs my other hand so he has both, I lean back against him and watch the girls flick their eyes between our hands and each other. His arms wrap around me and he rests his chin on my shoulder.

  “You’ll get your hats soon, ladies. At that Christmas show at the arena. You can buy a hat and support the homeless.”

  Lachlan winks at them and then playfully nuzzles his nose into my neck. He’s putting on a show and these girls are eating it up. I’m not sure why he’s doing it, but he continues, “If you don’t mind, I didn’t come here to talk hats. I came to dance with my girl.”

  He spins around and I have to follow because his arms are still wrapped around my waist. I turn my head so I can see him, forgetting about those girls, and he kisses me.

  “Let’s dance. The music is terrible, so why not try for something good out of it?”

  I scrunch my nose. “What can you possibly get from this music that’s good?”

  I don’t even finish when he spins me around pressing my body against his, his hands grabbing my hips.

  Oh.

  I get it.

  I’m super awkward and uncomfortable on a good day, and now I’m swaying to music I hate, with a guy that makes me feel things I shouldn’t, next to my ex-friend and my ex-boyfriend who look like they are full-out doing it with clothes on. Saying I feel uncomfortable is an understatement. I feel like a cardboard cut-out, stiff and plain. Bland and unexciting.

  Deacon doesn’t notice me. I have a feeling Janna doesn’t even know where she is. The way she is draped over Deacon, her arm hanging limply at her side, her always perfect red curls tangled and covering her face, makes me sad. This isn’t Janna.

  Lachlan gets my attention by making fun of the song that’s playing. He’s dancing outrageously mimicking people in the music videos, that exaggerated sexy and dramatic movement. I’m half embarrassed because everyone is looking at us again, but I can’t stop laughing. This is a side of him I didn’t think existed. Brooding, moody, and mysterious–yes. Goofy, fun-loving and hilarious–not so much. I still feel it’s a show. Happy is not a go-to emotion for either of us.

  Lachlan puts his hands on my hips and moves me so I sway erratically like him. I try to pull his hands away but he holds on tighter. I shriek as his fingers tickle me and fight harder. The tempo of the music makes me break a sweat. The three girls, I can’t remember their names, have joined us. We’re all dancing and laughing.

  This is fun. I’m having fun.

  Something hard slams into my back and I fall into Lachlan. Whatever hit me falls to the floor, and I spin to see what happened.

  Janna is lying on the floor. Her body is convulsing. Her hair is plastered to her face and her skirt has ridden up too far. I stare at her. My heart stops. My eyes dart up to meet Deacon’s wide stare but his gaze flickers to Lachlan. They exchange a glance, but I don’t have time to decipher it because a choking noise sounds above the music. Janna throws up. I drop to my knees and heave her onto her side. The puke spills from her mouth and blood starts oozing from her nose. I glare up at Deacon again. His eyes are still wide but distant. I don’t think he knows what’s going on.

  “Help me!” I yell. Deacon just stands there so I find a beer bottle on the floor and throw it at him. It hits him in the shin and he focuses on me.

  “Deacon, what’s she on?” I ask. Someone has cut the music. Deacon doesn’t answer.

  “What is she on?” I scream at him, but it’s Lachlan that answers me.

  “Cocaine.”

  I shift my eyes frantically toward Lachlan when Deacon runs from the room. Lachlan’s face goes dark. Shadowed. Angry.

  He steps toward the door, and I grab his pant leg. He yanks the material from my hands without slowing down. There’s an ominous hunch to his shoulders. A vision of him punching the metal electric box on the street flashes through my mind.

  This is not good.

  I can’t leave Janna.

  “Someone call an ambulance.” I scan the room and about 5 people lift their cell phones. A few people say they already have.

  I grab the person closest to me and pul
l them to the ground. Janna’s shaking so hard that I can’t hold her down with one arm.

  I’m trying to be focused, but everything is blurry. I don’t know who I’m looking at, but I grab their shirt.

  “Keep her on her side. Don’t let her roll over. Don’t let her flail.”

  I don’t wait for an answer. I shoot up and sprint to the door, clearing the pile of shoes in one jump.

  The cold air slams into me, but I don’t stop. I’m running down the driveway. I have no idea where I’m going, I just go. I spot them just behind a big SUV.

  Deacon’s on the ground and Lachlan is on top of him. They’re both bleeding, but Lachlan keeps hitting him.

  I scream at them to stop. The shaking starts. In the distance I hear sirens. My breath is sharp and fast. I scream again just as I reach them. My vision is starting to blur. I grab Lachlan’s arm, but he’s too strong for me. He doesn’t even know I’m here. I have to let go before he drags me right into the middle. What do I do? Nothing if you panic. I put my hand on my chest. I have to calm down. I can’t panic. Not now. I have to stop Lachlan before he seriously hurts Deacon.

  “Get out of the way,” someone yells, and I step to the side.

  Someone tackles Lachlan and knocks him off Deacon. Deacon scrambles backwards, and I go for Lachlan. He’s yelling at the guy holding him down. The words coming from his mouth are horrifying and unrepeatable. He thrashes on the ground until he throws the guy off.

  Lachlan goes for Deacon again, and three more guys are on him. I’m sinking deeper with every punch, every curse, every step. I’m drowning in his anger as if it were my own. My vision blurs and sounds become muffled as I fill with tears. My heart breaks for him because I know it’s his method. I know he can’t turn it off just like me and my panic attacks. My heart also breaks for me, because I can’t be with someone like this. I can’t handle someone like him. It’s too much. I am too screwed up on my own to deal with this. I had told Lachlan before that at least I knew I was emotional–that I had problems, but I never thought about my limits. I’d never thought what I would do if he was too much to handle.

  Please keep this in mind when Lachlan is being...difficult. The words of his addictions councillor bounce through my head. This is what she meant. It has to be.

  I wrap my arms around my waist and continue to take in Lachlan being difficult. I know he cares for me, but I can’t do this–no matter how I feel when he is close.

  Lachlan doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop when the cops show up. I’m still sinking into the pavement. I can’t move as the cop elbows Lachlan in the face and he goes down. I can’t breathe as two cops kneel on Lachlan’s back while a third cuffs him. I can’t watch when they drag him painfully to the car and toss him, kicking and swearing inside.

  “Talia!” Lachlan’s voice pierces the air. Through streaming tears his figure is blurry but I can tell he’s still struggling against the cops.

  “Talia, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.”

  I raise my hand to my mouth to stifle a sob.

  “I should’ve told you everything. I’m so sorry.”

  The cops finally got him in the car and slam the door, but he’s still yelling.

  My feet are rooted and my head shakes back and forth as sobs wrack my body. I have no idea how I’m still on my feet. I have no idea why the panic hasn’t consumed me.

  Deacon is standing next to me. There are lights flashing everywhere. The ambulance sirens are going off as they haul Janna to the hospital. We stand and watch silently.

  Deacon wipes blood from his face and looks over at me, but I don’t meet his gaze.

  “Stay away from him, Tali.” He smiles. This is not the time to smile.

  “He’s a drug peddling asshole. Don’t think he won’t hit you next.”

  Says the guy who just ran away from his overdosing girlfriend. He probably gave her the drugs too. Slowly I turn to him.

  I slap the smile right off his face. “Fuck you, Deacon.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Lachlan

  White hot heat rips through my hand and I double over in my seat. The cop won’t take the cuffs off until the Doctor sees me.

  I’m a flight risk apparently.

  I breathe through my teeth until the searing pain becomes a dull throb. It’s definitely broken. One more deep breath to inhale more of the disgusting sanitized death smell and I lean back. I hate hospitals. I wonder how Talia could stand spending so much time here.

  “You okay, kid,” the cop asks. I glare at him. My forehead wrinkling making the dried blood pull at my skin.

  “Lachlan McCreedy,” the nurse yells from the front. I stand and a wave of nausea passes through me from the pain. The cop grabs my upper arm, and I’m glad because I feel like I’m going to pass out.

  I clutch my wrist band in my good hand, and rub the leather with my thumb. I had to take it off because of the swelling.

  I’m only half paying attention as the cop leads me through the big glass sliding doors.

  She’s standing on the other side. There is blood on her face, just along her jaw line and I feel like I’ve succeeded. It’s a horrifying, stomach clenching feeling.

  The sheltered innocence is gone. Her features are hard, her blue eyes no longer the color of ocean waves but stormy black. I’ve succeeded in dragging her into my world.

  Her eyes never leave mine as the cop walks me down the hall to x-ray. I watch her until my head is turned as far as it will go. The cop shakes my arm and I grit my teeth, clutching the wristband even tighter.

  Forgiveness.

  I open my fingers and the band falls silently to the floor. I see her one more time as I’m hauled around the corner. She’s staring at the band. Tears sliding down her cheeks.

  I did this to her. With everything that has happened to me, everything I’ve done, this is the moment. The moment I truly want forgiveness. I just waited until it was too late.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  Talia

  I had to know if he was okay. If Janna was okay even though I knew they’d never let me see her because I’m not family. Now that I’ve turned Lachlan’s wrist band over in my hands a thousand times, I wonder if I’m okay.

  My head falls back against the soft headrest of Georgina’s car. I’m glad Lachlan left the keys in it but it smells like him and it’s bothering me. My head falls to the side and I try to imagine what’s going on in there. By the swelling of his wrist, I’m sure Lachlan broke something. Part of me hopes it hurts as much as I do.

  I’ve never known anyone who did drugs so I can’t imagine Janna, and what they are doing to help her. Pumping her stomach? But cocaine is snorted so it couldn’t be in her stomach? I have no idea.

  I sigh. Lachlan’s right. I do live under a rock. Right now I want to crawl back under it and never come out.

  ~

  My dad’s home when I get back from the hospital. He’s not supposed to be home until next week.

  His black four door is in the driveway. His shoes are at the front door beside a suitcase. My heart jumps. Why is there a suitcase beside his shoes?

  I can’t handle one more thing. Not tonight.

  Slowly I peek around the wall that divides the entrance from the living room. My parents are sitting on the couch, looking at each other. My mom’s eyes are red and swollen. She’s cross-legged in those ridiculously expensive sweat pants that make you look like you work out. Her light hair is pulled off her face into a ponytail. I don’t remember the last time she wore a ponytail. My heart is thundering so loud I am sure they can hear me.

  Is he leaving? Is my dad leaving?

  My mom notices me and she sits up straighter.

  “Talia, honey, come in here for a sec.” She smiles and holds her hand out to me.

  Something feels weird. My dad is straight-faced and pale. He nods to me to sit between them. I haven’t sat between them like this since they told me Pops had died when I was six. I barely remember what it’s like.


  I sit and lean back into the couch cushion so I can see both of them. I’m shaking with nerves. Just say it already, I want to scream.

  “Talia,” my father says, with his deep voice which means it’s serious. “Talia, your mother and I have something to tell you.” He pauses and turns to Mom. Is he blushing? He fidgets in his seat and nods to her.

  “You’re breaking up, aren’t you?” I try to stand. Mom grabs me and yanks me back down.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, honey. Your father and I are NOT getting a divorce. Breaking up! Good lord, we’re not in high school.”

  She laughs, and now I am totally confused.

  “Then what’s with the oozing solemn vibe?” I ask. “And why is dad blushing?”

  This makes dad blush even more and he clears his throat.

  “Your father and I have been having some troubles, yes. But darling, when you love someone you just make it work. Sometime the fire dims but it doesn’t go out. Not if you don’t let it.”

  Mom glances at dad and he smiles in agreement.

  “But that’s not what we need to talk about.” She waves her hand.

  “Trouble?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know with all this talk of flames. I am an only child and I’m convinced I was conceived on the honeymoon and they’ve never seen each other naked since.

  I must be wrinkling my nose because mom pushes it with her finger. She laughs again. It’s a different laugh than usual, a real one.

  “You used to make that face when I fed you anything with cabbage in it.”

  My dad laughs too and squeezes my knee. “She still does.”

  They lock eyes and I am suddenly super uncomfortable. I’ve intruded into a private space that is just theirs, but I can’t help but watch them. They really do love each other. It’s obvious now that I look at them, like, really look at them.

  “So, you guys are okay then?” I drag the words out. I’m still confused about the suitcase and the ‘talk’. “We’re still okay?”