With the exception of the drunken episode at Lane's, she hardly ever dressed up like half of the other chicks at school, usually wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Unfortunately, a pair of black panty hose covered the rest of her legs, blocking my view. It was the first time I'd witnessed someone under the age of sixty wear panty hose, but they looked bangin' on her. A tall pair of black boots with a small heel hit her directly under the kneecaps. Visions of me taking her wearing only those hot ass boots shot through my mind. Goddamn, those legs would wrap perfectly around my waist.
"You kept your promise," she said, coming over to me. I noticed traces of makeup on her face. Her lips were a dark, crimson red. I wanted to drag my tongue across them and taste her.
"You take promises very seriously, remember," I replied, smiling. "You look amazing."
She nudged me with her elbow. "You don't look so bad yourself.” She walked towards her mom and gave her a hug. At that moment, she was a different Daisy than what I’d grown accustomed to.
The fake smile she sported around was now a shining, authentic grin. I stared at her; the girl I knew was hurting deep inside but still endeavored to put up a front. I'd witnessed her breakdowns, and I yearned to fix them; to change them into the woman now laughing in the kitchen and helping her mom cook.
"Come in here, Keegan," Tommy said, patting the space next to him.
I joined them, and we watched the game. I couldn’t hold back my laughter when David shouted at the TV every time the opposing team scored.
“Come on, Luck! Run the damn ball,” David told the TV and then looked over at me when it went to commercial break. “You watch ball?” I nodded. I wasn’t a huge sports fan, but I made sure I went to all of Lane’s games.
“David here thinks the Colts are going to beat the Patriots,” Tommy mocked, pointing his beer bottle towards the TV. “Luck will never be able to take down my man, Brady.”
“Bullshit. Brady is getting too old. Luck is young and in his prime,” David argued. “Ain’t no one that can say the Colts aren’t the best team this season.”
“Brady is one of those top ranking quarterbacks in the country!”
“And the hottest,” Jamie yelled from the kitchen.
“And the hottest, according to my wife,” Tommy said, chuckling. “Who you got Keegan? I have fifty on the Pats, you on my side or what?”
“Hate to break it to you, Tommy, but I think the Colts have this one in the bag,” I answered. I’d known Tommy since they moved in next-door six years ago, and he’s always been cool towards me, but I didn’t think it was a good idea to bet against Daisy’s dad. I wanted to stay on his good side. “It’s forty-seven to twenty,” I added.
David slapped me on the shoulder. “I’m glad a smart man is driving my girl to school.”
If I had a dad, I’d want him to be like either one of these men. Someone I could sit and place bets with while we watched games together.
David held out his hand towards Tommy when the game ended. “Time to pay up.”
Tommy pulled out his wallet and stuffed a fifty-dollar bill in his hand. “Every time,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“Dinner is ready,” Janis announced, walking into the room with her hands full. “I don’t care if the game is over or not.”
“Games over, honey, and we're fifty bucks richer,” David told her.
Jamie appeared behind Janis. “I told you to quit betting against him, Tommy. Seven years and you haven’t won once.”
“Daddy stinks at bets,” Sophia giggled, running into the room and hugging her dad’s legs.
“Hey now, you’re supposed to be on daddy’s side,” Tommy said, grabbing his daughter and pulling her into his arms.
She gave him a hug. “It’s okay, I still love you.”
Everyone cleared the room and headed into the dining room where a long table was covered with food.
“Okay, this is amazing,” I said, pointing towards the sweet potato on my plate.
“Made from scratch,” Janis told me, smiling.
“My mom is seriously one of the best cooks,” Daisy said, proudly. “Unfortunately, that trait wasn’t passed down to me.”
“You’ll catch on, eventually,” Janis said. “Speaking of cooking, I asked Tessa to come with us because I know how much she enjoys helping in the kitchen, but she never returned my phone call. Have you talked to her?”
“Not really,” Daisy answered, stirring her fork in a pile of mashed potatoes.
Janis frowned. “You should. She could really use a friend at the moment.”
Daisy kept her eyes on her plate. “I will.”
“I understand it’s hard for you,” David cut in. “But that young lady needs some support and structure right now. You’re not going to believe this, but I had to book her dad in for a DUI. It breaks my heart seeing their family fall apart like that.”
“What?” Daisy asked, her eyes wide. “Darryl got arrested for drinking and driving?”
David nodded. “That family, they're spiraling out of control. Tessa has been skipping school. Her mom quit her job at the pharmacy. Your mother tried going over there to help out, but they wouldn’t even allow her into the house. They’re mad I didn’t let Darryl off the hook. Forty years of friendship, and now they want nothing to do with us.”
“They’ll come around,” Jamie said. “You've been friends for too long to let something like that tear you guys apart. They’ll realize you were only doing your job.”
I sat back, listening in curiosity, and wondered who they were talking about. Daisy never mentioned anyone named Tessa. She actually never talked about her life in Indiana. Where she came from and her past were all one big mystery.
“Please try to talk to her, Daisy. I don’t want to see her go down the wrong path because she feels like she’s alone,” Janis said, taking a sip of wine.
“I will,” Daisy answered, failing to look anyone in the eye. I could tell she was uncomfortable. Her dad opened his mouth, most likely to continue the conversation, but I stopped him.
“How are you doing with your photography?” I asked, suddenly, throwing out the first thought that came to my mind. My hand swept underneath the table and grabbed hers, giving it a small squeeze. Her gaze drifted up, locking eyes with mine, and she smiled.
“It’s going fine,” she said, squeezing my hand back.
***
“Admit it, this was way better than eating some cheap Chinese food and sitting at home,” Daisy said, pointing a spoon my way. I watched her scoop up a glob of whip cream and pie before popping it in her mouth.
She was right, but there was no way I was admitting it. “You’re family is nice,” I said, changing the subject.
A snort escaped her. "Nice, yes, that they are. Overbearing and intrusive, also yes."
"That's not always a bad thing."
"Says the guy who has no rules and gets to do anything he wants. It’s annoying when people say something isn’t bad when they’ve never actually had any experience with the problem. You’ll never understand the difficulty of having to sneak out of your bedroom window, or the nervousness of your parents finding out you went to a party instead of having an all-girls sleepover.”
"Damn girl, I had no idea you were such a little rebel. It's nice to see you at least used to have fun."
"What's that suppose to mean? I have fun.”
Yeah right. The girl was the essence of un-fun. "Name one fun thing you've done since you've been here."
"Lane's party.”
“You got wasted and threw up. I highly doubt that can be classified as fun.”
"Fine," she burst out. "I'm not a fun person. Happy?" Looking away from me, she shoved another bite into her mouth.
"Damn, no need to get all pissy," I replied, surprised how fired up she’d gotten over my words.
"You don't have fun, either. You think jumping from bed to bed and treating girls like trash is fun?" she snapped, her voice low and accusatory. I'd hit a sore spot.
"I don't have one."
"So you've always been pissed off and mad at the world?"
"I'm not pissed off and mad at the world," she protested, leveling her gaze on me.
"I beg to differ."
"Do you want me to kick you out of my house?"
"You can, but I just need to do one little thing."
"And what is that?”
I grinned and leaned forward to slowly drag the tip of my thumb against her hot lips.
"Uh, what are you doing," she asked, swatting my hand away. I ignored her and ran my thumb across the middle of her lip, wiping off the small dab of whip cream. I grinned, noticing her breathing quicken, and her eyes widened as I lifted my thumb to my mouth and sucked on it.
"Mmm," I groaned, dragging it out of my mouth. "Someone who tastes this good shouldn't be angry all the time."
She gasped, and I waited for whatever response she was going to give me, hoping it wasn’t a punch to the gut, but I got nothing. Her espresso eyes bored into mine, and she leaned forward, coming my way. I wasn't sure what the hell was about to happen, but I wasn't going to stop it.
"Charlie Brown Thanksgiving is on!" Sophia screeched, flying into the room, and Daisy flopped back against her chair in shock. Daisy's eyes diverted away from me as Sophia made her way in between the two of us. She grabbed our hands and pulled us into the living room.
Never in my life had I been one of those “what-if” people, but that day, for the very first time, I wondered what would've happened if Sophia hadn't come in and cocked blocked me.
DAISY
Chapter Twelve
I tossed my bag down roughly on the table in front of me and slouched down in a chair. The day wasn’t even halfway over and was already sucking major ass. I was positive I failed the History pop quiz we had earlier. Then my best friend, Piper, accidentally elbowed me in the face during a basketball game in gym class.
“I’m telling you, you should’ve punched her in her perfect, snobby nose,” Gabby said, falling down in the chair next to me. “I totally would’ve vouched for you.”
I huffed loudly, unzipping my bag for the water bottle that was shoved in there somewhere, but paused my search when I felt my phone start to vibrate. Grabbing it from the side pocket, I looked down at the screen to see my mom’s name flashing across it. Weird. My mom never tried to call me when I was in school. I ignored the call, sending it to voicemail, and a text message popped up on my screen before I had the chance to put my phone back.
Dawson: Tessa tried to kill herself. She's at Hancock Memorial.
My stomach dropped as I read the words. My hands fell open, causing my phone to slide out and fall onto the wooden table. This wasn’t happening. Tessa wasn’t that stupid, was she?
I jumped out of my seat, knocking the chair back, and threw my bag over my shoulder as I took off out of the cafeteria like a bat out of hell. I could hear Cora and Gabby's voices behind me, calling out my name, but I ignored them, running faster.
It was my fault. If I'd been there for Tessa, if I would've taken her calls, she would've never done it. I could've helped her, but I'd been too damn selfish.
I stormed through the isolated hallway and only made it a few feet before I had to stop. I bent down at my waist and caught my breath. “Breathe in, breathe out,” I told myself, repeating the words over and over again.
"Daisy!" Keegan yelled, sprinting down the hallway towards me. I stayed motionless while I waited for him. I shook my head, fighting tears, and walked straight into his strong arms without hesitation.
He tightened his hold on me, rubbing my back and whispering that everything was going to be okay. He led me backwards until we were no longer in the middle of the hallway.
“What happened?” he asked, as we sluggishly slid down onto the cold, tiled floor. We leaned back against the lockers lining the wall behind us.
I took a few slow breaths before answering him. “Do you remember the friend my parents said they were worried about on Thanksgiving?” I asked.
“Tara?
"Tessa," I corrected. "I just got a text message telling me she's in the hospital. She tried to kill herself."
"Fuck," he bit out. "Do you need to go home and see her?"
"I'm not really sure," I said, my words stuttering. "I want to, but it's all the way in Indiana."
"We better get going then," he said, pulling himself up and holding out his hand to me. "We can fly or drive, it's your choice, babe."
I looked up at him, blinking. "Fly or drive?" I asked, repeating his words in disbelief.
"Which one?" He edged his hand out farther.
"Drive," I answered suddenly, grabbing his hand and allowing him to lift me up to my feet. I didn’t have the money to buy a plane ticket, and there was no way I was asking him to buy me one.
"Do we need to stop by your house and grab anything?”
"No, I don’t need anything." I had plenty of clothes and things back at home. "Unless you need to stop by your house?"
"Nope. If I need anything, I’ll buy it whenever we get there.”
***
Snow fell onto Keegan's windshield as we made our way down the interstate. The car ride had been quiet since I called my mom, who was shaken up about the entire situation. Tessa was like a second daughter to her. She didn’t give me much information about Tessa’s condition over the phone, only telling me she was okay but wouldn’t be released from the hospital for a few days.
I sighed, admiring the fallen flakes with Tessa still on my mind. "I love the snow," I muttered. Tessa, Tanner, and me had always reverted back to kids when it would snow. We’d drag out sleds out and have snowball fights.
"Eh," Keegan said, maneuvering lanes and honking at the car in front of us.
“You don't like snow? If you don't, then you have major problems. Everybody loves the snow."
"I never said I didn't like the snow," he corrected. "Don't go putting words in my mouth." He smiled. "Yes, I'm a fan of snow when I'm on a ski trip or vacation, shit like that. What I don't like is snow when I'm in a hurry and have to drive down the interstate with fucking morons." He had a point there. Everyone was driving under the speed limit like it was the first time they'd ever seen snow. “We usually don't get much snow in Atlanta. You guys get a lot of this shit back home?”
I nodded. "Usually.”
"Then you're coming with us to the cabin on New Year’s.”
"What?”
"We're all going to Lane's parent's place in the Smoky Mountains for New Year’s. You like the snow, so you're coming with us.”
"I think I have something going on." I definitely had nothing going on.
"Don't lie. I know you think you're too sad to have fun and shit, but that's what's going to help you get your mind off things. You don't need to sit up in your damn room all of the time."
"I'm not sad, and I don’t sit in my room all of the time.”
"You are, and you do.” He opened the glove compartment, pulled out an iPod, and handed it over to me. “Let’s play a game.”
"I'm not really in the mood to play a game." I wasn't trying to sound unappreciative of the fact that he was driving me thousands of miles to go see my friend, but a game sounded like hell.
“It's an easy game, really. We both pick a song that reminds us of each other. I promise we won’t giggle or have more fun than you can handle.”
I frowned. "Fine. But you have to go first."
"Got it.” He turned up the volume on the radio, and a song I’d never heard came spilling out of the car’s speakers. I tucked a strand of hair back behind my ear and let the lyrics take me over.
“What song is this?”
"It's called “Let Her Cry,” by Hootie and The Blowfish."
I nodded, listening closely to the words. It was like the artist had climbed into my brain
, captured every thought running through it, and wrote about their discovery. I was the song's muse.
"Do you like it?" he asked, studying me.
I swallowed. "I do."
He smiled. "This is one of my favorite songs."
"Why?"
"I don't know, it just is," he said, shrugging. "It used to remind me of my mom, but now I think of you when I listen to it.”
I raised a brow. "And why do you think of me?”
“Because you’re broken."
"I'm not broken," I said, blowing out a breath. I was getting sick of hearing him say that.
"We've already gone over this. You're sad and broken, but there's hope for you. I see that sweet little smile of yours peek out sometimes, and it's beautiful."
"Oh," was the only word my speechless brain could muster out.
"Now it's your turn," he said, holding out his iPod for me again.
"No more games," I whispered, talking about more than the music.
"No more games," he repeated, and turned off his iPod. "So do you know why your friend did it?"
"I'm not exactly sure," I lied, not wanting him to know the truth. "I know she's been having a rough time lately, and I wasn't there for her."
"People have to worry about themselves before they can help others," was all he said before turning the radio back up.
***
We pulled into the parking lot of the same hospital I’d been born in. The one I’d gone to when I broke my leg after a cheer stunt gone wrong, and when I caught the flu from Tanner two years ago.
“You ready to go in?” Keegan asked, shifting the car into park.
“Ready or not, I have to,” I told him.
I swung the door open, and my feet landed in a pile of snow as I got out. I felt the slightest touch of Keegan’s hand lingering against the small of my back as he followed me into the hospital. We headed down the hallway, the pungent scent of harsh cleaning chemicals hitting me.
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