“I know. I don’t believe it either,” I say. “At least we know why your dad called a family meeting.”
“Did you know?” she asks, looking at me accusatorily.
“Why would I know?” I lie. “It’s not like Aaron is going to confide in me about anything.”
Her fists curl by her sides, and she continues pacing the floor. “Wesley knew. Can you believe that?”
“Wesley knew what?”
Rage fills her red-rimmed eyes, and she places her hands on her hips. “He said he’d heard rumors about Aaron taking steroids.”
“How did he know?” I look over her shoulder. “Where is Wesley?”
“I told him to stay at the camp. I’m so mad at him for not telling me what he’d heard. I’m his fiancée, and he’s supposed to tell me everything. Keeping something he’d heard about my brother from me isn’t acceptable. Not one bit.”
When she’s on a roll like this, I’ve learned it’s best to let her have at it. “Did he say why he didn’t tell you?”
“He said it was because he doesn’t listen to gossip. I told him it’s not gossip if it’s about family.”
“Are you guys going to be okay?”
“We’ll be fine,” she says, calming down some. “But he needs a few days without me to realize I don’t stand for any bullshit. Relationships are built on trust, and he needs to trust me with everything. Whether he thinks it’s gossip or not.
“And while we’re on the subject of rumors, what’s this I hear about you wanting to change majors and leave the cheer squad?”
Shit. Shit. Shit. This is the last thing I want to discuss with her. I had planned on talking to her sooner rather than later, but in my own time when I was sure I’d get accepted. “Oh, where did you hear that?”
She throws her hands in the air. “This fucking day is the day that just keeps on giving. Laura overhead Professor Brown talking to Professor Martinez about what a shame it would be if you left the Latin American literature program. That you have an amazing brain, you shouldn’t waste it on Interior design. Laura told Sally who told Maria who told me. I was going to wait to see if you would talk to me about it, but since I’m here, you mind filling me in?” She crosses her arms and glares at me.
“You really want to do this now?”
“There’s no time like the present, sis.”
“Fine,” I say, standing. “I’m done with cheer.”
Her mouth gapes open, and the shock flitting across her face makes me step back.
“What do you mean you’re done with cheer? We built this team together. We’ve cheered pretty much every day of our lives since we were eight. You can’t just give up something that’s been part of your life for so long.” She paces again, her arms gesticulating with every word. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this mad before. “The cheer squad is as much yours as it is mine. If you walk away from cheer, you’re pretty much walking away from me.” When Chelsea gets mad she cries, and right now, tears drip down her cheeks, tears she angrily wipes away.
“Chelsea, I’m not walking away from you. I’m walking away for me. Do you know what it’s like to live in your shadows? To be known as Chelsea’s best friend and not known as Taylor?” I stop her pacing by grabbing her hands. “I love you. You know that. But you also have to understand, I need to find my own path. My own life.
“Organizing my mom’s wedding awoke my passion for design. It opened the door I’d locked a long time ago. I never allowed myself to be creative. I thought if I picked up a paintbrush it would hurt my mom, but I want to create. I don’t know exactly what I want to create yet. I hope changing my major to interior design will help me figure that out.”
Her eyes soften, and I can tell she’s starting to see it from my point of view. “You can create all the dance routines you want. I’ve never stopped you from doing that. You’ve always had a lot of creative input.”
“That’s not the same, and you know it. Look at everything I did for the wedding. I made the invitations from scratch. I organized the seating arrangements and the centerpieces. I designed the interior of the tent, the color scheme. I can’t begin to describe the kind of satisfaction that gave me. So much more than cheering ever has.”
“Ugh! I need to find a new co-captain for next year.”
“You know all of those girls would give their right arm for the chance.”
She sniffles. “But we work together so well. You finish my sentences before I can. You know what I’m thinking just by looking at me.”
“Exactly. We’re like an old married couple. I think it’ll be as good for you as it is for me. We’ll still be at the same school, just not in each other’s pockets.”
She nods and gives me a watery smile. “I guess we are kind of like Siamese twins. But, man, I just can’t believe you’re going to give up cheer. How can you want to do that?”
“Because cheer is your life, not mine. I don’t want to be a professional cheerleader. I want to eat anything I want and not worry about how I look in skimpy outfits. I’m done taking my life in my hands by getting thrown from the top of pyramids.”
“Ugh! I have to find a new flyer, too.” She lifts her head and looks up to the heavens. “My best friend is leaving me, and it’s all over the Internet that the only reason my brother can play football is because he uses steroids. Could you make my day any better, Universe?”
“Drama much?” I say and then smile. “I’m not leaving you, and your brother is not on steroids.”
“How do you know he’s not on steroids?”
“Come on, Chelsea. You know he isn’t.”
“None of us know what goes on in that head of his. I love him, but maybe my dad was right when he called him an idiot for committing to UCLA instead of staying here. He’s such a selfish moron.”
“Stop. Just stop. Don’t talk about him like that. He’s not an idiot or a moron. He’s one of the greatest guys you or I know. He’s smart and funny, and he’s honest.”
She holds her hands up in front of her body. “Uh, hello! Where did that come from? You’re the one who wouldn’t even mention his name for two years, and now you’re suddenly defending him.” Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “No. No. No way. He’s my brother. Your stepbrother. No. It’s too gross to even contemplate.” She holds her head in her hands and squeezes her eyes shut. “I can’t even deal with this.”
I take a deep breath and consider playing dumb even though I know there’s no point because Chelsea knows me better than I know myself and can tell when I’m lying. I turn away from her and move toward the back porch.
“Don’t you dare turn away from me, look at me. I need to see your face when I ask this question.”
Realizing there’s no point trying to get away, I turn to face her.
“Are you in love with Aaron?”
Not trusting myself to speak, I nod.
“Since when?”
“Since I was twelve,” I squeak.
She throws her hands in the air again. “What? Twelve! And you couldn’t have told me this before our parents got married? Before I became your stepsister and he became your stepbrother?”
“It wasn’t like I’d planned to fall in love with him. It just happened.”
“And does he feel the same way about you?”
“I don’t know. I think he hates me.”
She blows out an exhausted breath and flops down onto the sofa. “You need to start from the beginning. Tell me exactly what’s going on.”
For the next thirty minutes, I fill Chelsea in on everything that happened between me and Aaron from the night of our graduation to the past week at the cabin. Afterward, we both sit on the sofa emotionally exhausted and drained.
“Our parents are going to have a heart attack,” she says.
“Don’t tell them,” I say quickly. “They can’t know about us. And like I said, I think he hates me. I did something really stupid.”
“Are you going to tell me what that really stupid
thing is?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“If you tell me you’re pregnant, I’ll kick his ass because I won’t be able to kick yours.”
I laugh, but there’s no humor to it. “God, no, I’m not pregnant.”
She rests her head on my shoulder. “You know this could be just a fling for him. He might not love you back.”
“I know,” I say, resting my head on hers. “Like I already told you, I’ve been in love with him since I was twelve, and I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone like I love him. I hate myself for feeling like this.”
“I wish I had some words of advice for you, Tay. But I don’t.”
The front door swings open and we both jump up from the sofa.
“Aaron,” we say in unison.
Thunder covers his face, and he glowers in my direction. “Why did you call my dad? How could you betray me like that?”
“It’s not a betrayal when I don’t know what’s going on!” I spit back. “The only thing I said was that I thought you were in trouble. Kayden Rush came to the cabin with another guy and threatened you. And now people are saying you beat him to a pulp.” He curls his fingers into clenched fists, and when he does, I look at them. They’re bruised and swollen. “Are you trying to get yourself arrested, too?”
“Kayden got what he deserved,” he says dismissively. “You should have called me before calling my dad.”
“I tried, but you weren’t picking up.”
He tunnels his fingers through his hair. “How could you be so stupid and thoughtless. If I wanted my dad involved in this, I would have talked to him.”
The venom in his words shocks me into a stunned silence.
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Chelsea says, standing in front of me as if to protect me. “After everything you put her through during the past two years, you should be ashamed of yourself.”
I stand by her side, and Aaron glares at me. “She knows?”
I nod and look away from him. The fire and hate in his eyes make me want to run away and cry, but I stay where I am, frozen in place. I won’t show him how much he’s breaking my heart.
“Yeah, I know,” Chelsea says, “and I also know she loves you, you asshole.”
My stomach sinks to the floor, and my heart jumps into my throat. I close my eyes. I’ve never told Aaron I loved him.
“Stay out of this, Chelsea. You don’t know a damn thing,” he says.
He looks dangerous right now, very, very dangerous.
Chapter 18
Aaron
“Taylor, can I talk to you outside?”
“Sure,” she agrees.
She loves me? If it’s true and she does love me, it isn’t something I wanted to hear from my sister, it’s something I wanted to hear from Taylor, but now isn’t the time to talk about love or us.
If we were ever going to have a relationship, which we’re not, I would have to accept that my sister would know everything, so it’s a good thing Taylor and I can’t be together, and it’s also a good thing I plan on leaving Calton for good.
Taylor follows me out to the garden, and I turn to face her. “Why did you spill your guts to my dad and Chelsea? I didn’t tell anyone about what was going on in my life for a good reason.”
“Good reason? Kayden Rush threatened to kill you. His exact words were ‘Tell him to call off his dogs. If he doesn’t, more than his career will be over’. You weren’t picking up your phone. You just vanished from the cabin. What was I supposed to think? Supposed to do?”
“You weren’t supposed to think or do anything. I don’t have to tell you where I’m going or what I’m doing or who I’m doing it with. We might have fucked a few times, but that doesn’t mean you own me.” I’m being a bastard, I know it, but I can’t seem to stop directing my anger towards her. I want her to hold me, I want her to tell me everything will be okay but closing the gap between us would be like walking off a cliff.
Her lips twist downward, and her brow furrows as if she’s about to lose it. “What are you going to do, cry?”
She narrows her lips and shakes her head in exasperation. “You’re not worth my tears. And to think I love you. I hope to God in time that love fades because you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve me. Why do you push people away, Aaron? You pushed your dad away. The man who did everything for you and made you the man you are today. Made you the player you are today.
“You’ve never had a relationship. You prefer one-night stands and friends who have fun. Why are you so afraid of opening up and committing? I feel sorry for you.”
“Save your sympathy. You don’t know anything about me, Taylor. Stop trying to psychoanalyze me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I do know you. I know deep inside you need your dad’s approval. I know when you lost your mom, it almost killed you. Stop pushing people away because if you keep doing it, you’ll find out soon enough that you’ll have no one to turn to when you need them.”
“I don’t need anyone. I never have and never will.”
She lifts her head to the sky and blinks several times like she’s doing her best not to cry.
“Fine,” she says her voice cracking. “I get it.” A single tear slides down her cheek, and I ache to wipe it away. To kiss her. To tell her I’m sorry, that I didn’t mean anything I said. That’s she’s right, I don’t deserve her, but I’m too chicken-shit to do any of that.
“We done here?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she replies. “We’re done. More than done.” She turns to go into the house, but before she does, she looks back at me. “Time to get in your car and run back to UCLA, Aaron. See how many people up there care about you or believe you. I know you didn’t do what they’re saying. But you’re so stuck up your own ass, you won’t even ask for help from the people who love you.” With that, she walks into the house.
I close my eyes and touch my hand to my chest, trying to ease the pain in my heart. She’s right about some things but wrong about others. The reason I don’t let people in is because people let me down and I’m fed up with people letting me down. My dad, Kayden, Coach Davis…and even my mom.
I’ve had enough. I’m not hanging around Calton waiting for my dad to call the family meeting to order. Hanging around here is a waste of time. I blew it with Taylor just like I blew my career. I’m a has been. The washed-up cliché I never wanted to become.
***
On the way out of town, I think about going to the high school stadium where I used to play and sit on the bleachers for a while.
I can almost see the glare of the Friday Night Lights. Feel the excitement in the pit of my stomach when the guys and I walked through the tunnel. The flow of the adrenaline when twenty-seconds was on the clock with one last chance to score. Hear the roar of the home crowd when we scored a touchdown.
All that’s gone now. It’s in my history. I’ll never walk through the tunnel again with my brothers in arms.
I decide against going to the stadium and go to a backstreet liquor store instead.
I buy a bottle of Jack and a bottle of Fireball. I’m not a liquor drinker, but I need something to make me forget, if only for a few hours.
Since I decided against going to my old high school, I drive to the beach. There’s a place my mom used to take me to when I was a kid. She said it was our special spot and that no one else knew about. Whether that was true or not, I don’t know, but I’ve never seen anyone else on this stretch of sand.
I sit by the ocean and knock back the Fireball, not caring that it burns my throat and strips my stomach lining. The only thing I care about is that it numbs me.
Fuck Taylor.
Fuck my dad.
Fuck Kayden.
And fuck football.
I don’t care about any of them. I don’t care about anything.
If only that were true.
Sometime during the night, I pass out and only wake when the rising sun shines on my face and cold waves lap
around my body. I jump up and hold my head trying to ease the pain reverberating through my skull.
I’m soaked to the bone, and I count myself lucky I didn’t drown or die from alcohol poisoning. I glance to my left and see an empty bottle of Fireball and a half-empty bottle of Jack.
Now I know why I don’t drink liquor. My mouth feels like a rat died in there. Fire fills my stomach and grit fills my eyes.
“You’re awake.”
Awesome. My dad’s here. He’s the last person I want to see or talk to.
I slowly turn my head, but even that hurts. “I don’t want to do this right now.”
He puts his hands on his hips like he does when he’s coaching the Wildcats. “Too bad, Son. It’s time we cleared the air.”
“Great,” I mumble and sag to the sand.
My dad sits a few inches from me. “Y’know, I never meant to be that dad. Never meant to alienate my only son. I know none of this is your fault. I’m sorry if you think I do. I’m guessing that’s why you didn’t come to me.”
“You know what’s going on?” I force out a laugh. “How could you not? It’s all over the place.”
“I’m not paying any attention to what anyone has to say, but I did talk to Coach Davis.”
I say nothing and wait for him to continue. I can’t remember the last time my dad and I talked without tension or had a conversation that didn’t revolve around football and how pathetic I was.
“You think I was too hard on you growing up?” my dad asks.
Only every single day of my life.
I lift my eyes and stare at the wispy clouds floating across the sky. “You want me to lie or you want me to tell the truth?”
“What do you think?”
I don’t look at him when I talk. “From the day I could hold a ball, you never let up. In your eyes I can never do anything right. The way I pass the ball is wrong. The way I kick is wrong. Hell, even the way I breathe is sometimes wrong.”
Who knows why I’m opening up to him this way. Is it because of everything that’s happened over the past few weeks? Is it because I have nothing to lose? Is it because I’m fed up not telling my dad how I really feel? Or is it because, like Taylor said, it’s time to stop running?
Out of Line: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Page 12