Wrecked

by Jeannine Colette

  His mouth is pinched in. “Nice to know you could hear me.”

  He releases my arm and turns away.

  I manage to make it through the rest of the afternoon without seeing him. I virtually lock myself away and paint, only stopping if Toby asks for a hand.

  At five o’clock, I’m done for the day and make my way toward Luke’s car. I really need to figure out what I’m going to do about transportation. Luke goes back to school next week. Maybe I should have helped him get that motorcycle. I could have borrowed it to cruise around town.

  I’m walking across the dirt pathway when I see Adam’s truck parked on the other side of the road. I look over, and his frame is visible from the front seat. I chose to volunteer today because Adam was on duty. Looks like I’m his project on and off the job.

  I proceed to get in my car and drive away. So used to driving this route in silence, I keep the music off. I follow the dirt road and watch as Adam’s car trails right behind me.

  “Leave me alone!” I call out even though he can’t hear me as I enter onto the highway.

  I dip into the right lane. He dips, too. And then he honks, probably mad I didn’t use my blinker.

  I hold up my middle finger nice and straight, so he can see it.

  My rearview mirror gives me a view of his scowl.

  The speed limit on the highway is sixty-five miles per hour. People do eighty without blinking an eye. If Mr. Tailgate wants to follow me home, he’s going to have to do it at my pace. I drop my speed down to fifty-five miles per hour and settle into the far right lane. It doesn’t seem like a huge deal, but following someone at this rate is like water torture. Especially for me. I’m not a reckless driver, but watching the cars pass by on the left makes me feel like I’m a turtle.

  I drum my fingers on the leather steering wheel. The pickup is still behind me. Maybe a few more minutes of this monotony will make him give up and speed into the distance.

  I reach into my bag and pull out my phone. With my eyes on the road—okay, I take a quick glance—I tap on my Audible app and open the book I started listening to with Adam. I downloaded it and have been listening sporadically.

  The girl narrator is speaking.

  “Everything about us, our childhood, our relationship—it’s all coming into focus. My role in his life then and now. I’ve always loved him, and I always will, but maybe my purpose was to be his gravity and not his lover.”

  I hit the stop button and toss my phone in the backseat. I officially hate this book.

  I drum my fingers on the steering wheel again. My nails are a pretty shade of hot pink. I sneak a look at them just as the yellow light indicating that I’m running low on gas pops on.

  “Damn it, Luke,” I call out.

  It’s really not his fault. I’ve been driving this hot rod just as much as he has lately. I should have noticed I was low on gas this morning.

  I drive for a few more miles until I reach the town just a few exits away from Cedar Ridge. Of course, Stalker McStalkerton is following me off the exit ramp. I glide up the road to the first gas station just off the highway and pull up to a self-service pump. I turn the car off, pop the gas tank, and hop out of the car. Adam’s truck is parked by the air pump.

  I select the gas grade and insert the nozzle into the tank. I’m watching the price tick up when a police cruiser pulls up next to the pump on the other side of me.

  The front door opens, and Officer Harper steps out. He’s fixing his pants, pulling them up around the waist, when he sees me standing there.

  I offer him a closed mouth smirk. Nothing more, nothing less. I mean, he’s the reason I’m stuck to Adam for half of a year. If he’d just done his job like he was supposed to and really investigated the crash, I wouldn’t be going through any of this nonsense.

  “Hi there,” he says, quite cordial for someone who arrested me for drunk-driving. “Paige, right?”

  “Leah Paige,” I confirm. “And don’t worry; I’m on my way home from my community service.”

  He places two hands on his belt just above his holster and walkie-talkie—a comfortable resting spot, I’m sure. Leaning his head to the side, he narrows his eyes at me. “You in trouble?”

  I blink at him. My gas counter ticks and clicks off. “Not in any more than you put me in.”

  “Where are you doing community service?” he asks.

  I look to the side, dumbfounded, and then back to him to answer, “Homes for All Souls.”

  Light registers in his eyes. “Reingold’s charity. Great organization. Glad you’re helping out.”

  “Me, too,” I answer.

  I put the gas nozzle back in the holster. I’m closing the door to the gas tank when I see Adam exit his truck. He starts to move toward us but stops. Then, he turns and heads back toward the side of his truck. He punches in the air but stays by his truck.

  I look back to Harper. “You sound surprised.”

  He looks up at me. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m only volunteering because of you.” I can’t believe I’m explaining the details to him.

  Harper squints. “Do I need to issue a field sobriety test on you?”

  I wave my hand at him. “No, no, no.”

  He puts his gas nozzle in the holster and opens the front door. “We found that friend of yours. She was in a bad state a few weeks ago. She was sent to rehab, but word is, she checked herself out. You need to stay away from people like her if you want to stay clean yourself.”

  I should be annoyed that he thinks I’m a drug addict, but I’m more confused by what I heard. “Victoria was in rehab?”

  He tsks, a disappointed expression on his face. “Why anyone would refuse help is beyond me.”

  My brain is revving at a million miles an hour. Victoria was found and sent to rehab. I saw her at the bar, so her checking herself out of rehab makes sense. But, if she was discovered and Harper recognized her name from my story, then…

  “Does Reingold know she was found?”

  “He’s the one who brought her in.” The radio on his hip goes off, a woman’s voice speaking in terms and numbers. “I have to go. You have a good day,” he says.

  I hold up a hand in a pathetic wave.

  The police cruiser drives off. I’m still standing there, stunned, when I hear Adam’s feet running across the blacktop.

  I turn around. “You lied to me.”

  His mouth is open, but words aren’t coming out. He has no idea what to say. Too bad for him, I have all the words in the world.

  “You lying piece of shit. You knew it was Victoria driving my car that night! You found her and sent her to rehab. How long after my arrest did you find her?”

  His words are awfully quiet for someone whose guilt is screaming in the daylight. “The next day.”

  “The next day?” I shriek. “Why am I here? You tricked me into this”—I motion to the space between us—“this punishment.”

  He blanches at my phrase. It’s true. Being with him has been nothing but punishment.

  “I did you a favor. There’s no camera evidence and no deployed airbag, and no one actually saw you get in the car.”

  My stomach is internally rolling in disgust. “You knew she drove my car while high and crashed it, yet you still made me do community service. You held my dreams in the palm of your hand. For what? Is this payback?”

  He doesn’t say a word. It’s how I know I’m right.

  “I didn’t kill him!” I shout. “When will you stop blaming me for Brad’s death?”

  “Baby—”

  “Baby? Oh,” I balk. My mouth is agape, my body seizing with nervous energy, ready to take him down in a gas station. “We are so far beyond what happened in the woods. If you think I was angry then, you have no idea how furious I am now.”

  “Please—”

  “Suzanne was right. She said one of us was going to get hurt. I was just really hoping it wouldn’t be me.”

  chapter TWENTY

  My legs are
wrapped around the metal steel, my body swaying with the movement as it dips and spins. I gesture to Noreen to turn it up higher. I already beat the record. Now, I want to see how fast I can go.

  My butt jolts as the mechanical bull turns up a notch. My shoulders fall forward, and I know I’m done for. I’m instantly on the mat, failing and landing on my hip. It wasn’t the most graceful, and I’m grateful it’s only Monday, which means the bar isn’t packed.

  “How was my landing?” I ask Noreen.

  She holds up three fingers. “I’m only giving you that many because you set my hours.”

  I pull down my T-shirt and undo the hair tie from my hair. My mane gets in my way sometimes, making me want to chop it all off to something shorter, like one of those bobs where it’s longer in the front and shorter in the back.

  Pulling my hair into a new ponytail, I walk across the floor just as Suzanne is walking through the front door. I shouldn’t be surprised that Jessica is right behind her. Suzanne is in all black, having just come off work at the salon. Jessica is wearing pleated gray pants and a white sleeveless blouse, something she must have worn to teach summer school. They grab a high-top near the bar, which means they’re going to be eating. Noreen is on her way to the table, but I wave her off. I like serving my friends.

  Walking over to the girls, I plaster a smile on my face. “What are my girls drinking tonight?”

  Suzanne looks up at me from her menu, her eyes darting over to Jessica, who is not smiling back at me like she usually does.

  “I want the most fattening thing on the menu and something strong to drink. I’m nursing a broken heart,” Jessica says.

  My stomach turns.

  Suzanne holds the menu to her chest and says, “We’ll have two Caesar salads.”

  “No,” Jessica chimes in, her voice distraught. “I want the nachos with extra cheese and sour cream. And I want a vodka, straight.”

  “She’ll have a Sprite,” Suzanne states.

  “Adam broke up with me,” Jessica says as she lowers her shoulders. “I want to drink away my sorrows.”

  “You’re being a tad bit dramatic.” Suzanne is being uncharacteristically dismissive.

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Why the hell would he do something like that?”

  I could punch him. I could punch myself. I could punch Suzanne for that look she’s giving me.

  Placing a hand on Jessica’s shoulder, I give it a rub. “You are too smart and beautiful to waste a moment moping over some guy.”

  “Whatever. It was only those two dates. Not like I was in love with him or anything. I just hate the thought of being dumped. It sucks, you know?” Jessica says.

  I shake my head. “McConaughey is right.”

  “Oh, boy,” Suzanne says, putting her menu down.

  “Here we go,” Jessica adds with a sigh.

  “‘The male is always the pawn in a romantic comedy. Come together, break up, go chase her, get her, roll credits,’” I quote the legend. “Why do men get to decide how our romances play out? They are the ones to ask us out, they choose where we go on dates, and they’re the ones to decide when it ends.”

  Jessica sways as she answers, “Well, not really. It was my idea to go bowling.”

  I ignore her. “I’m sick of it. Sick of being held hostage by when he’s gonna show up and if he noticed the perfume I put on or how the yoga pants I’m wearing say Sexy—and if he actually finds my ass to be sexy enough to grab—and if he’s watching me the same way I’m staring at him because, even though there are secrets to our past, I can’t stop looking at him and wondering what our future could be like if things were different.”

  They’re gaping at me like I have three heads.

  “I’ve never worn perfume specifically for a guy,” Jessica says.

  “My ass is too big to have anything written on the back,” Suzanne adds.

  With a huff, I turn around and head to the bar. I grab a bottle of vodka and make Jessica her drink. When I get back to the table, the two are mid discussion.

  “I wouldn’t call it being dumped. Like you said, it was only two dates. You never even kissed him,” Suzanne says.

  I nearly drop the glass.

  “What about at the camp?” I ask incredulously. “You shared a tent.”

  Jessica shakes her head. “No. He slept in a sleeping bag outside. I was by myself. Kinda knew something was off. I thought it was because of the fight you two had in the woods, but it turns out, he was never planning on sharing a tent with me.”

  I told the girls Adam and I had an argument. Then, I went right into my tent, not coming out until it was time to pack up the next morning.

  “Yeah, that must have been some fight,” Suzanne says in a manner that means she doesn’t believe it was a fight at all.

  I take a sip of Jessica’s vodka drink. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

  She eyes the glass that is currently on the rim of my mouth. “I’ll take a Sprite.”

  “Oh.” I hold the glass up and shrug in an apology. “Sorry.”

  “I want to go dancing,” Jessica announces. “The best way to get over a guy is to get under a new one.” She waggles her eyebrows.

  Suzanne lowers her chin. “I thought you were in mourning.”

  “I am,” Jessica declares. “How’s Thursday? I won’t be mourning by then.” She looks at us with puppy-dog eyes. “Please, Leah. I know you’re not working on Friday morning.”

  She bats her lashes, and I hold the cold glass up to my cheek as I think.

  “I do have that adorable strapless white dress I bought last month.” It’s cinched at the waist and falls mid thigh. It’s flirty and sexy, and I’ve been dying to wear it.

  “That’s my girl!” Jessica squeals. “Now, I have to figure out what I’m going to wear. It has to be killer in case I run into Adam.”

  Suzanne twists her mouth and looks my way.

  I turn around and take the glass of vodka back to the bar, pour it in the sink, and ask Noreen to bring them their drinks.

  With my hand on my forehead, I walk to the back office and close the door. Dropping into the desk chair, I swivel it around and face the wall. I place my feet on the wall and push off, making the back of the chair hit the desk. With my head rolled back, I look up at the ceiling and sigh.

  There’s a creaking sound as the door opens. I lean my head further back to see the upside-down image of Suzanne walking into the office.

  “I don’t want to hear it.” I put my head down and stare at my shoes against the wall. “Yes, we fooled around in the woods. Yes, I know it was wrong. No, we’re never seeing each other again because, yes, I know this will kill Jessica, so, no, I won’t be telling her. Yes, I know I’m an idiot. Yes, I know I’m a bad friend. And, finally, no, Adam and I are not together.”

  “I was wrong,” she says.

  I tilt my ear in her direction.

  Her bracelets jangle as she raises a hand to probably pull that wild mane of curls away from her forehead. “I thought this was all part of your obsession with him. That wanting him was only because you couldn’t, and if you had him, it would be more like winning the war you two had waged upon each other. It took me way too long to realize that this isn’t some infatuation.”

  I don’t deny it. It would be stupid to.

  “Jessica isn’t the only one he turned down. You were right. Nothing good will come of us being together. That’s what happens when you take drugs, right? You get high for a moment, and then you crash. You’ll never fight the urge, and without your next hit, you’re just a junkie searching the streets for it.”

  “I’ve never seen you act like this about someone.”

  I drop my legs and swivel around. “I want to be superwoman and do it all on my own.” I’m not just talking about Adam anymore.

  “You can’t be a one-man band forever, Leah. You’re like the monkey with the drum on his belly and tambourines for hands.”

  She’s getting mouthy. I usual
ly like it when Suzanne tells it like it is. Not so much today.

  “You’re a walking, talking, traveling party. But where do you go to wind down? Who takes care of you at the end of the day? He’s the one who grounds you. He is the one who plays your stupid license plate game and gets you to build things and buy things for kids without homes. And not because you couldn’t do those things on your own. You’ve always had these great qualities. Adam just happens to be the man who brings out the best in you.”

  “You said I should stay away from him.”

  “I also said you should talk about Brad.” She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and crosses her arms to drive her point home. “You won’t move on unless you talk about the giant elephant in the room.”

  “We’ve talked about him.”

  “Have you?”

  I squint my eyes at her. For someone who was making me feel so bad about myself, she certainly is spinning a different tale.

  “What’s changed?”

  With a soft shrug, she says, “The way you smile when you look at him. The way he laughs when he talks to you.”

  “He rescued Victoria. That girl Kimberly talked about? That was Victoria.”

  “Wow.” Her brows rise as she hugs herself. “I feel terrible for not knowing she was doing drugs. I would have done something. I know she has flaws, but she was my friend. Have you seen her since you kicked her out of the bar?”

  “No. And I feel awful about it.”

  “At least she’s okay. Adam saved her.”

  I rub my hands along my face. “He knew I wasn’t lying, and he still kept me to this terrible probation.”

  “Is it legally binding?”

  “No. It was a promise.” I rub my eyes with the bottoms of my palms. “I’m such an idiot. How did I not know this was all a ruse?”

  “Maybe you were looking for an excuse to be around him?”

  “Sounds more like he was looking for an excuse to be around me.”

  “Yeah,” she says with a smirk. “It sure does.” Placing her hands in her back pockets, she takes out a set of keys and tosses them on the desk. “Someone paid the balance to get your car fixed, and it wasn’t me.”