She couldn’t tell if he was asking out of concern or if he was just trying to be a jerk. Meagan blew another bubble with her gum, her heartbeat rapidly increasing at just the thought of the motives behind her presence. “Yeah…yeah, it was scary.”
He glanced away as if he felt guilty, and in the awkward silence, Meagan’s uneasiness grew and she began to chomp away on her gum again. “Okay, what’s with the gum?”
In that instant, maybe for the first time in her life, Meagan realized how loud and annoying the sound of her gum must be. She gave him a sheepish grin. “Oh, sorry. It’s a nervous habit I guess.”
Turning to face her, he leaned an elbow on the back of his chair. “What are you nervous about?”
“All this talking and sharing our feelings…I’m just afraid I’ll say something—”
“That sounds stupid?” Ryder offered.
Meagan nodded. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“I know the feeling,” Ryder said.
≈≈≈
Gage tapped his pen against the scratched wooden surface of his coffee table.
The journal Daphne had given each member of the group lay open in front of him, and on the inside cover he’d scribbled Kelly’s number—not that he’d ever use it.
He hated group therapy. He could talk until the world ended, and it still wouldn’t change a damn thing, so what was the point? Writing? Now there was a task with a point. It wouldn’t change anything, but nobody would ever have to read what he’d written or know how he felt.
Just as he brought the pencil to the page, a knock at the door shattered the silence of his apartment. Rolling his eyes, he shut the journal and shoved it under a worn-out couch cushion. He looked out the peephole to the hallway of the apartment complex.
Shane stood outside, one hand stuffed in his pocket, a beer clutched in the other, bouncing from foot to foot.
Agitated, Gage pulled the door open but left the chain locked. “Hey, man,” he said through the inch of open space. “What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping I could hang out a while.” Shane ran a hand through his disheveled brown hair.
Gage shut the door and yanked the chain loose, then opened it again. “It’s late,”
he said as his friend slid through the door and plopped himself down on the couch.
“Yeah, but I knew you’d be up.” He reached behind his ear, pulled out a joint, and lit it.
“Man, how many times have I told you not to bring that shit here?”
“Relax,” Shane said, blowing a huge puff of smoke in Gage’s face.
He held his breath and then ducked onto the couch. He shook his head when Shane offered him the pot. “Put that out, man. Now.”
“Just take a hit and chill.”
“My probation officer could stop by anytime to drug test me, you dumbass.”
“Yeah, but they’ve got stuff that can clean you out in like, eight hours.”
“No thanks. I’ve got too much to lose.”
Shane nodded solemnly and then reluctantly went to the sink to put out the joint.
“So listen,” he said as he turned the faucet on, “I kind of need a place to crash.”
Gage clenched his teeth, rolling his eyes. He should have known that question was next. “I’d like to help you out, man, but—”
“I know your ‘no sleepover’ rule, but you’re the only guy I know who doesn’t still live with his parents.” Walking into the living room, he plopped down on the couch, fixing his hazy, intoxicated gaze somewhere to Gage’s left—although Gage realized Shane was probably seeing double or triple. “My old man said if I come home drunk one more time, I’m off to military school.”
“Yeah? What do you think he’s going to do if you don’t come home at all?”
He laughed, his lips sliding into a sly grin. “That’s the beauty of it. See, he never said I had to come home.” When Gage didn’t laugh, he continued. “Come on, man, be a pal. I’ll sleep on the couch, and you’ll never even know I’m here.”
“Alright, alright,” Gage groaned. “But you’re out at the crack of dawn, hear me?”
“Yeah, man, I got it.”
“If you got anything illegal on you, you better unload that shit out in your car right now. I don’t need no damn contraband in my place if my P.O. shows up.”
He stretched out on the couch. “I’m clean.”
“Up. You’re sleeping in my room.” He jerked his thumb toward the bedroom door.
“Dude, I like you, but—”
“Not with me, dumbass!” Gage hissed, kicking the couch.
He laughed and stood up. “It was a joke. And stop calling me dumbass.”
“Yeah, real funny, dumbass.”
Shane shook his head as he went into Gage’s room and closed the door behind him.
Gage scratched his head, wondering how he always got roped into these things.
He walked over to the refrigerator, guzzled what was left in the half-carton of milk, and then went to the other bedroom. He opened the door slowly, so it wouldn’t make a sound. Leaning against the doorway, he rested his head against the frame as he looked in on the little girl sleeping in her crib.
At six months old, Lizzie looked like an angel, sleeping peacefully beneath the glow of stars and moons pasted on the ceiling. Tiptoeing into the room, he covered her up with her blanket, even though he knew she’d just kick it away in a few minutes.
Sitting down in the rocking chair next to the crib, he finally let himself relax as he listened to the slow, rhythmic sounds of Lizzie’s breathing. With a quiet groan, he stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles, then leaned his head back to stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars above. Man, she loves those things, he thought with a smile. It was worth the three hours it took to paste them up, even braving his fear of ladders.
As soon as he was done with probation and therapy, he planned to take Lizzie and get the hell out of town. No more druggie friends stopping by at two o’clock in the morning, and no more high schools with guns. Like he’d told Shane, he had too much to lose.
Chapter Two—Breakdown
Kelly walked into the convenience store and headed over to the cappuccino machine in the back for her daily dose of caffeine. She scrunched up her nose as she looked at the labels on the machine, not quite sure if she should select White Chocolate Caramel or French Vanilla.
“Vanilla’s too plain for you,” a familiar voice came from behind her. “Go with the white chocolate.”
Turning, her breath caught in her throat as she looked at the blond-haired, blue-eyed hunk in a Clearwater High letter jacket.
His lips slid into a warm, friendly smile. “Hi, Kel.”
“Alex? Hi,” she stammered, feeling like an idiot. She glanced around for a quick exit, but she was cornered between the coffee machine and a Krispy Kreme display case.
“How’ve ya been?” Alex slid his hands into his pockets, keeping his gaze on hers as if he had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of at all. When she didn’t answer, he continued. “Because...well, you know...it kinda seems like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”
“That’s because I kinda have been.” Turning, Kelly grabbed a coffee cup and, even though the white chocolate would’ve been delicious, she began filling the cup with French Vanilla just to be defiant.
“Don’t you think that’s a little... rude?”
She laughed as she snapped the lid onto her coffee cup. “Rude? Alex, I don’t care if I’m rude to you.” And with that she spun on her heel and walked away from him, heading for the cashier.
Circling around her, he stepped into her path. “Kelly, wait. Please just talk to me, okay?”
“What is there to talk about? You made things crystal clear.”
“I just wanted to see how you’re doing. You know…after everything that happened—”
“I’m fine,” Kelly said before he could finish, before he could cut open that wound she was trying so despe
rately to heal.
He stared at her with a look that said he saw right through the façade, just like he always did. “Come on, Kelly. It’s me.”
Kelly sighed, finally forcing herself to look at him. Every time she looked into those blue eyes, she was carried back to the prior year, when she’d been crazy-in-love with him and thought they’d live happily ever after. That was a dream that quickly shattered. “It’s hard…getting up in the morning, forcing myself to go to school and go through the motions of my day. It’s all just hard. Seeing you is hard. It’s all just really…hard.”
Pity swamping his features, he reached out to touch her arm, but she shrank back, giving him a glare.
“Don’t even think about it,” she whispered, her voice taut with the hushed warning.
“Look...Kel...I know our breakup sucked, but I wish we could just…” He trailed off, his gaze seeking hers as if trying to form a connection. “I don’t know…find a way to be friends, at least.”
Friends? After spending so long being his girlfriend, his cheerleader, his shoulder to lean on when his dad pressured him too much? They’d been friends— best friends—and then he broke her heart. “Alex,” she said, feeling exhausted and drained and just wanting the conversation to be over so she could get back to her cappuccino, “Do we have to do this right now?”
“I just want—”
“I know what you want,” she said with a sigh of aggravation, “but I’m not interested. So just leave me alone. Got it?”
Turning, she quickly walked toward the register, hoping he wouldn’t follow her this time. Seeing him was just too difficult; it brought back too many memories and way too much pain.
≈≈≈
Gage balanced Elizabeth on one hip and used the other to shut the back door to his car. She giggled and grabbed hold of the shiny silver chain around his neck.
He had to smile. “You like that, huh?”
She cooed and yanked on the chain.
He laughed. “Maybe I’ll give it to you someday.”
He maneuvered around the carburetors and motors strewn about the grass and stepped over a bumper and onto the low-sitting front porch built onto the trailer. He pulled open the screen door and went inside. The inside of the trailer was a big improvement from the outside; at least it was spotlessly clean anyway. “Sarah, you here?” he called.
“Of course I’m here.” Sarah stepped into the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. “Bring that little darling over.”
He smiled. “She’s in a really good mood today.”
Sarah took Elizabeth and held the little girl in front of her. “How’s my favorite little niecey?”
Elizabeth squealed in response, and they both laughed.
“Mike’s waiting for you in the garage,” she said.
“Right.” Gage handed the diaper bag over to Sarah and lingered for a moment, then bent down and kissed his baby on the forehead. She grabbed hold of his necklace and tried to pull herself back to him. “Lizzie, I have to work,” he explained in a gentle voice, his heart melting. He held her for a minute anyway, then kissed her again and reluctantly handed her back to Sarah.
“Ah, he shows!” Mike called from under the hood of a Buick as Gage walked into the garage.
“Yeah, sorry,” he said. “Shane crashed at my place last night, and I had a hard time waking him up this morning.”
“I thought you didn’t let your friends do that anymore?”
He shrugged. “He needed a place to stay.” He looked around. “What work do you have for me today?”
“A car broke down over at the Stop-n-Shop on Elm Street,” he said. “You want to take that or work on this?”
“I’ll take the pick up,” he said. “What kind of car is it?”
“A green Neon.” Mike tossed him the keys to the tow truck.
Gage headed toward Elm Street, unable to get Lizzie off his mind. He loved that little girl more than he ever thought he could love anybody. At six months old, she was the spitting image of her daddy, with sandy blonde hair and wide, round gray eyes. He had never wanted to have kids after the bang-up job his parents did, and of course he never saw himself as a single father at seventeen, but now that he knew Lizzie and had fallen deeply in love with her, he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
Up ahead, the Stop-n-Shop came into view, and he saw the green Dodge Neon parked on the edge of the parking lot. He pulled over and stopped the tow truck behind it. “Did you call Mike’s?” he asked as he rounded the hood of the car.
“Yeah.” The driver was short and skinny, wearing a pink tank top and khaki capris with designer flip-flops. She wore her blonde hair in a tight braid that ran down to the middle of her back. After looking at her for a minute, he recognized her from The D-UC. Kelly. He froze for a second and then turned to the car. “So what’d it do?”
“I don’t know. It just...won’t start.”
He chuckled. “Is it the battery?”
“How should I know?” Kelly asked, shrugging her shoulders. “That’s your job.”
“I guess you’re right.” He leaned under the hood and tinkered with a few things.
“Looks like your fan belt snapped.”
“Is that bad?”
“Your car’s not going to work without it.” He started for the truck. “I’ll tow it to the shop, and you can pick it up in a few hours.”
“But I need my car now,” she said. “I have school.”
“I don’t exactly carry fan belts around with me, and we’re backed up, anyway.
It’ll be after twelve before I can get to it.” He eyed her as he opened the door to the truck. “There’s no one you can call?”
She looked down at the ground.
He rolled his eyes. “Alright. So get in.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll walk.”
“What school do you go to?”
“Clearwater.”
“Well, if you want to walk ten miles, that’s your choice.” He shrugged and hopped in the truck and pulled it in front of the sedan, then got back out to hook up the car for a tow. “But the offer still stands for a lift if you need one,” he said, as he bent down to hook up the towing rig.
“Okay. Thank you.” She sighed and leaned into her car to get her backpack.
They started down the road in silence, with Kelly nervously folding and unfolding her hands.
“So, if you go to Clearwater, what are you doing on my side of town?”
“I had an errand to run.”
“An errand, huh?” He almost laughed at that, because he knew the rich kids from Clearwater only came to Westview for drugs. “You’re awfully preppy to be running errands down here.”
“I’m not preppy.”
He glanced at her, taking in the Abercrombie backpack, the American Eagle logo on her tank top and capris. Those pants alone must have cost fifty dollars—on sale, he reasoned and smiled at her in a yeah-right sort of way.
“Okay, so maybe a little preppy.” She sighed and dug in her bag. “You mind if I smoke in here?”
He played his fingers over the grooves in the steering wheel, full-on irritated by his good side, by his offer to give her a ride. “Roll the window down.”
She twisted the knob and slid the window down. She lit a Marlboro Light, and then held the pack out to him. “Want one?”
He eyed the soft pack with the white and gold wrapper as the smell of the smoke flitted to his nostrils and made the nicotine cravings kick in. If I have one...just one…will it matter? Yes, he answered himself. He knew he could never stop at just one, just like those stupid potato chips on that commercial, and he didn’t have the money to waste by picking up the habit again. “No thanks.”
“Ah.” She nodded knowingly and blew her smoke out the window. “You’re what I call one of the converted.”
“Converted?”
“Yeah, you know...the people who quit smoking because television ads tell you it’s bad for you. What they don’t tell yo
u is that you breathe in toxins every day—
especially you, working around cars, with exhaust fumes and stuff.”
He smirked as he turned down the road that led to her school. “Are you some kind of environmentalist or something?”
“No. Well, I used be on the Green Team. It’s our school’s—”
“I know what it is. We had a Green Team at Westview.”
“Oh. Were you on it?”
He laughed. “Hell, no! I was too busy getting arrested.”
The shock that washed over her face had him laughing even harder.
“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “It wasn’t violent crime. Vandalism mostly.”
“Oh.”
Silence fell over the cab of the truck for a few minutes. Then Kelly threw her cigarette out the window and turned to him. “So, that shooting—”
His grip tightened on the wheel as he cut her off. “This isn’t a therapy session.”
“It’s just…Ryder said the shooter was your friend.”
“And I said this isn’t a therapy session.” He tossed her a glare to make her back off.
She shrank back against the door. “Sorry.”
“What about you? Why do you make out with people you’re not dating?”
“I don’t know.” She picked at her fingernails. “He hit on me, and it just kind of happened…I guess I was lonely.”
He’d said it to be mean; he never actually expected her to answer and wasn’t prepared to handle her response. Something in her face made him fight the urge to say something cruel. It took him a minute, but he managed to come up with, “Well, people get lonely sometimes.”
She glanced at him. “Yeah.”
He pulled up in front of the school.
“Thanks.” She pushed the door open. “What do I owe you?”
“I’ll tack it onto the bill,” he said, even though he knew he wouldn’t. “You get out of school at three?”
“Three fifteen, I think.”
He nodded. “I’ll try to have your car back by then.”
She stepped out of the truck. “Thanks.”
“Yep.”
As soon as she shut the door, he took off.
≈≈≈
Meagan walked quickly down the crowded hallway of Clearwater High.
From the Damage 1 - Opposites Attract Page 2