“I’m going on a date with Ms. Trimble tomorrow night. I was asking Ben here for some tips on how to not make an ass of myself.”
Gracie’s eyes flash between us as she registers what Carter said, and I feel my jaw tense.
“You’re going on a date? Since when?” she asks. Her voice matches the look in her eyes. Pure betrayal. I can’t think of why she looks like that. The man deserves to find someone.
Carter clears his throat. “Since I asked her at the Summer Kick-Off.”
“That was like two weeks ago. Why didn’t you tell me?” Her arms cross, and I’m looking between them, unsure of when she’s going to lose it. She’s definitely going to lose it.
“Well, I didn’t really feel I had to, Graceland.”
Here it comes.
Gracie’s face twists into this weird angry, pouty, sad face, and it throws me. I’ve seen a lot of girls’ trying-to-get-their-way faces, but no one has anything on this girl.
Gracie breathes out slowly and wrinkles her nose.
“Right. Because I’m just your daughter. I don’t need to know when you’re dating someone. It doesn’t affect me at all. Have fun then.” Her voice is ice cold. She turns and begins to walk away, but not as confidently as I think she means to.
“Graceland Marie Holloway. Stop right there.” Carter booms. I really desperately want to sneak away, but I don’t know how. Gracie stops but doesn’t turn.
“You drop the attitude right now, young lady. What I do with my spare time is my business. Show a little more respect.”
Gracie does turn, and they glare at each other. They have the same glare.
“We all pitch in. We work together. A strong family works together. That’s what you said. You don’t think this affects our family. You can’t lie to us, Dad. Lying to us affects our family.” Gracie tries to control the volume of her voice, making it deeper and more scathing.
I make a fatal mistake as I listen to her, and look at Carter, confused. Gracie thinks that Carter’s keeping it from the twins, too. Gracie catches my look, and her eyes snap back to her dad.
“Asher and Archer know?”
Carter steps forward, and Gracie steps back.
“You just kept it from me?” she asks before looking at me accusingly. I shift my eyes down. I do not want to be dragged into this.
“I didn’t want to tell you until I knew for sure. I know how you are about these things.” Carter tries to explain, and Gracie takes another step back. I have no idea who’s the parent and who’s the child. They switch roles so many times.
“Knew what for sure?”
“If I love her.”
Gracie chokes.
“If you love her? You haven’t even been on a date yet.”
Carter’s face goes red but not out of embarrassment.
“For Christ sake, I’m not a teenager. Diana and I have been flirting with the idea for a while now. We have common interests. We live the same lifestyle. She makes me happy, Graceland. I’m not some little girl with a crush. Don’t be ridiculous. This conversation is over.”
The defiant, I’ve-got-you-cornered look melts from her face. I don’t think her dad has ever spoken to her like this. She turns and walks away, only making it a couple steps before she breaks into a run.
I watch her for a second before turning to Carter, who has his nose pinched in his fingers.
“I don’t know what to do with her sometimes.”
“I’ll talk to her. See if she’ll listen to me.”
He laughs. “Good luck.”
I take off across the yard after her.
***
She almost knocks me out with the screen door, but I catch her just as she’s running up the stairs. She yanks her arm from my grip and keeps running.
“Gracie, wait.” I’m out of breath but manage to intercept her in front of her door.
“Get out of my way, Ben,” she says, crossing her arms.
“Just talk to me, Gracie. What was that?” I so badly want her to just let it go. Stop trying to be this tough, controlling chick and just let it out.
“That was my family lying to me. That was you lying to me.” She glares.
“Whoa, how did I get pulled into this?” I lift my arms off the door frame, and she takes the opportunity to duck around me. She tries to slam the door in my face, but I stick my foot in and push it open.
“You knew. You knew this whole time. After everything you said. Be real. Be honest. How you feel. But you lied to me about my dad. How long have you known?”
“I didn’t lie,” I stutter, but that’s only a half-truth. I didn’t lie because I didn’t mention it.
“Get out.” Her eyes are so distant. So cold. She’s looking at me, but there’s no focus.
“Gracie.”
“Get out, Ben. Get out. Go home. Go with your sister. She already told me you’re leaving. Get off the farm. Get out of my life.” Her mouth presses together to stop the tremble in her lip.
“I,” I start, and she flings open the door and pushes my chest. She’s strong, and I fall back into the wall.
“GET OUT!” she screams at me and slams the door so hard I’m surprised my eardrums don’t shatter. I’m about to push off the wall and argue, but someone grabs my shoulder and I turn to face Asher.
“You should go, man. I’ll handle this.” He steps up to the door and knocks. “Gracie, it’s me.”
Asher shoots a glance at me over his shoulder, and I start down the stairs. Gracie lets him in, and her shrieky muffled voice sounds through the old wooden walls.
“You knew! You asshole. You knew?” Then the sound cuts out.
I feel absolutely exhausted by the time I get to the bottom of the stairs and do not want to deal with the smug look on my sister’s face. She’s leaning against the railing, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised.
“She’s just like all the others, Bentley. Don’t waste your time.”
“Shut up, Sasha.” I blow right by her without stopping until I’m outside. I head back to the tractor. I need to be distracted.
Sasha’s right. On the outside, Gracie is like all the others. But it’s not who she is. She’s hiding something behind these perfect memories, behind this fear of love, behind the wall of complete selfish bitch. Part of me wants to stay and figure it out, to see if I can get her to open up. Part of me doesn’t want to go down that road again. I need to leave. For my own sanity. I need to believe I can’t get Gracie to drop the act.
CHAPTER 23
Graceland
It’s hard to keep a smile on while we drive to town. Asher knows, Archer suspects, Hunter’s gone, Ben’s a liar, Dad’s sneaking around. Guys suck. Whether they’re related or not.
The only reason I’m even allowed to go to Mel’s party is because Dad knows how pissed I am at him. Asher tries to talk to me a couple times, but I just continue to stare out the window. When we pull up to Mel and Kels’ house I’m out of the truck before it even comes to a complete stop.
The night air is muggy and hot. There is a storm coming, and I hope it’s a massive tornado that picks me up and takes me far, far away. The dark grey clouds on the horizon tell me it’s just a storm, though. I push through the big red wooden door. The air inside the house is even stickier and so hot I can barely breathe. The stench of alcohol and pizza grease floods my senses, but almost as soon as I enter, I know what I’m here for. I know what I need to do. Who I need to find.
The imperfect glares. There is no perfect. This isn’t a movie, or some stupid book where everything always ends up okay. This is real life. This is how it’s supposed to be. At a party with someone I’ve known my whole life. Someone I trust. Someone I don’t love. Someone who can’t leave me because they’ve never invested in me. Someone who doesn’t give me the Ben Feeling.
Asher steps into the house behind me and Archer behind him with a bag of beer he took from Dad. I fish into it and pull out a can.
“Gracie Marie,” Archer starts, but my glare silence
s him. I’m allowed one beer. I crack it defiantly and turn toward the music coming from the huge living room. The dark furniture is pushed to the walls, and there’s about ten people dancing in the middle of the room. The kitchen is to the left, and I see Lacy sitting on the counter. Her hands are in Asher’s hair, and her forehead is pressed against his. He leans against the counter between her legs, his hands on her knees. Her smile takes up her whole face. I don’t ever remember her smiling like that. I’ve never seen her look like that, and momentarily, I hate her for it. I hate my brother for being so damn dedicated to her. I hate that my first reaction is hate. Who cares if they’re going to break up? Who cares if it fails? Who cares if one of them leaves? That smile looks like it might be worth it. For her that is.
As soon as Lacy sees me, she straightens up, and the smile falls from her face. I look at her, trying to seem as apologetic as I can. But she’s done with me, so I turn and weave my way to the middle of the dance floor. Kels screeches and hugs me like we haven’t seen each other in months. I hug her back, and she starts dancing with me, swinging my arms and twirling me sloppily around the floor. I laugh and try to keep my balance and not spill my beer, all while keeping my eye out for him.
In mid twirl I see Dermott. He’s leaning against the back wall next to Julia. He looks good. For a second I get that feeling in my stomach I used to get with him. Like I want his lips on mine, his hands on me, even though he doesn’t make me smile like Lacy does with Ash. His eyes are on me, and they’re conflicted. I smile at him, and he smiles back. A small smile, like if our smiles were combined they still wouldn’t make a full one. There’s comfort in his smile, though, and I drop Kelsey’s hand and move toward him.
“Hey, D,” I say and lean next to him on the wall.
“Hey,” he answers, his eyes moving across my face, still unsure of me.
“Listen, sorry about the other night at the Bowl. I was a total asshole.” I smirk at him because I know he’ll think it’s funny. He laughs.
“You were kinda.”
I nudge his shoulder with mine.
“I was. But I want to make it up to you.” I look sideways at him and bite my lip. I was sure when I walked in, but now that I said it, there’s a twinge of doubt somewhere deep in my pounding heart. I push the feeling down. I can’t screw around with it anymore. If this is what I want, I need to man up, as my brothers would say.
Dermott’s concerned expression turns to confusion, his shoulders angle toward me, and I reach for his hand. He looks down at our fingers then back at me. I reach up with my other hand and cup his neck, leaning in and pressing my mouth to his ear.
“I want to make it up to you,” I whisper and bite his earlobe like he used to do to me. “Like, all the way make it up to you.”
He makes a weird cross between coughing and choking sound and pulls back. His eyes go wide, and his mouth hangs open. I pull my hand from his neck and run my thumb along his bottom lip, like Ben had done to me. My heart jumps up, and my gut sinks down simultaneously, which is a very jarring feeling.
No, no thinking about Ben. This has nothing to do with Ben. Or the Ben Feeling. Waiting for love is bullshit. I’ve never heard of a good first time. Lacy, Kels, Mel… not one of them start with “it was beautiful and perfect”. Lacy was drunk and has never drank since. She doesn’t remember and cries every time she talks about it. Kels says Brandon lasted barely long enough to get started. Mel lost it to my brother Archer, in a car, which makes me cover my ears every time it is brought up. By the way, she laughs hysterically while she reenacts her leg getting caught, her inability to get her clothes off in such a tight space, and there’s something about bashed teeth and a bloody lip.
At least with D, I trust him. I’ve been with him. I know him. D can’t hurt me because I don’t love him.
Not that I love Ben.
“Are you serious?” D’s voice brings me back to the party, to him. To the all of a sudden too loud music, too fast heart beat, too unstable limbs. Am I serious?
I look at him, his eyes unzipping me, undressing me already. He knows how to look at a girl to make her feel wanted, desired.
Is that what I want? I glance around to see who’s watching. No one’s paying any attention to us. A nervous bravery comes over me, or desperation. I can’t tell because my whole body is vibrating with so many things. I hook my fingers in the pocket of his jeans and pull him behind me as I make my way to the stairs.
The sound is deafening. The sound of my beating heart, the sound of my fear. The sound of the door as it closes behind us, leaving us alone together. Apart, separate. Isolated.
I take Dermott’s face in my hands, running my thumbs along his jaw before pulling him in for a kiss. He kisses me back like he’s done a thousand times before. It’s different now. Completely different.
I want to run. To turn and run. But I want to stay. I want to savor it. I want to get it over with. I don’t know what to expect when I deepen the kiss and grab the hem of Dermott’s shirt, pulling it over his head.
He reaches for me now, and for the first time, when D touches me, his hands shake.
CHAPTER 24
Graceland
I sit in Archer’s truck with my knees pulled as tightly to my chest as I can. The window is open, and the hot air does nothing to cool me down. It does nothing to blow away this feeling I can’t identify. The heaviness of my thoughts makes it hard to keep my head up, so I rest my forehead on my knees.
“You okay, Gracie?” Archer asks for the tenth time. I nod my head, still resting on my knees. I readjust my arms and try to pull my legs in tighter, to cross them, to make my self smaller than I feel. I squeeze my eyes tight, but they feel so dry I can’t blink. Everything plays in my head over and over.
It was okay. It didn’t hurt. It was safe. He was safe. We were safe. It was okay.
But it doesn’t feel okay. I don’t feel okay. I feel stuffed full of things I can’t register, but at the same time, empty. Completely gutted like my insides were scooped out of me. I am uncomfortable, but no matter what I do, I can’t shift it away. I can’t squeeze it out.
***
I can’t do anything but fall into bed and stare at the ceiling. I can’t cry, or smile, or think. Everything and nothing runs through my head, and I’m distanced from it. I’m separate from my thoughts, as if they’re an old cheesy drama playing on screen and I’m just watching. I feel like they’re not my memories, not my experiences, not my feelings, but someone else’s. I hate that person. I hate what she’s done.
Rolling over and curling into a tight ball, I bury my face in my arms and grab fistfuls of hair in my hands.
I lay still.
It gets light.
I don’t cry. I stare.
It gets dark.
I get up only when I absolutely have to.
My brothers take turns coming to see me. Asking if I’m okay. Telling me that they covered for me with Dad.
It gets light.
I sob until I’m void of all emotion.
It gets dark.
It’s just sex. It isn’t supposed to be this way.
I didn’t expect it to be this way.
I never expected to feel so empty.
CHAPTER 25
Bentley
I haven’t seen Graceland since Friday, and her brothers keep telling me she isn’t feeling well. I don’t buy it. Something happened at that party, and I have to see if she’s okay. I shouldn’t want to know. I should be pissed at her for the things she said to me. For the things she’s done to me.
But I’m not.
It makes me want to be closer to her. To coax out the real Gracie, to make her see she’s not the person she pretends to be. I get her. The fact that she’s lying to herself makes me feel better. Like I’m not alone. It makes me want to coax out the real me. It makes me want to do the things I want to do and be okay with it. It makes me want to accept that I don’t belong in my world, that I don’t belong here either. But somewhere in between.
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As ridiculous as it sounds, I want us to do it together. To be real together. Stop hiding. Stop running. Stop trying to force it. Just be. Together. See what happens.
But Gracie doesn’t forgive very easily. I just hope she realizes that she’s not the only one who needs to forgive.
Fingers snap in front of my eyes, and I almost drop the cup in my hand into the kitchen sink. My eyes focus, and I turn away from the rain-coated window to face Sasha, standing with one hip out, her hands on her waist. Her it’s-so-annoying-when-you-do-that look saturates her features, and I press my lips into an apologetic smile.
“Way to listen.” Her voice is whiny and irritated.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I don’t have the energy for my sister right now.
Sasha points over her shoulder. “I said, it moves.”
My eyes follow to where she’s pointing, and I see Gracie. She shuffles down the long hallway toward the front entrance with a wool blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders and her head angled down. I don’t need to see her face to know that this isn’t ‘sick’. Her stooped shoulders and inability to actually lift her feet while she walks is proof enough. She looks weighed down, dragged out, and basically really damn depressed.
The part of her that I wish I could wrap up inside myself pulls me from the counter, and I try to follow. Sasha grabs my forearm.
“You can’t save her, Bentley. Stop trying to save people. To believe the best in them. She’s no good for you, and you know it.”
The screen door slams, and I yank my arm back.
“No, Sash. I don’t know it. You can never know it. You talk about it like it just happens, like it’s not my choice. If you ever had to put a little effort into anything in your ridiculous existence you might understand that. Some things are worth working for, even if they fall apart in the end.”
Sasha’s half drawn-on eyebrows go straight up, but she ignores my comment. Like she always does when she hears things she doesn’t like.
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