Heroin.
If I call, my mother will go to jail.
Heroin.
My finger slides against the numbers and like nine years ago I listen to the phone ring once, twice, a third time. The world turns black, then reappears in a fuzzy tunnel. My knees buckle and I force consciousness for a few more seconds.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
RYAN
I set my cell to the loudest ringtone and place it on my chest before I rest my head on my pillow. Beth’s supposed to come home from the hospital today and because of that I’ve refused pain medication. I want to hear her voice on the other end of the line and know that she’s only a mile down the road instead of thirty minutes away in Louisville.
Then, for the first time in more than a week, I can sleep deeply.
My body is one slow, throbbing ache. Every pressure point pounds in time with my pulse. Broken ribs, bruised everything, and cuts. Each and every injury worth the cost of saving Beth.
“Can you tell me why?” My dad’s voice carries into the room.
My eyes flash open and I turn my head to see him leaning against the door frame with his gaze pinned to the floor. It’s the first words he’s said to me since I hit him. He’s been around. Present, but not speaking. I don’t feel bad about it, because I haven’t talked to him either…until now. “Why what?”
“Why you risked it all for that girl?”
“Because I love her. And her name’s Beth.”
No response. Sometimes I wonder if Dad knows what love is.
“Scott called,” he says stiffly. “He wanted to remind you that there are rules now. He’s angry with both of you and he won’t be letting her out of the house anytime soon.”
I return my focus to the ceiling. I can deal with rules as long as I’ve got Beth. Scott’s been a mixture of grateful and pissed. In hindsight, maybe I should have called him when I found Beth’s note, but I don’t think Beth would have listened to him. She needed me.
“I don’t think you should continue to see her,” Dad says.
“Don’t remember asking.”
There’s silence and when I glance out of the corner of my eye, Dad’s gone. Who knows if the two of us can fix what’s been broken.
My cell buzzes and my stomach plummets when I notice Beth’s name above the text. She promised she’d call. Friends, right?
I half chuckle. It’s the first text she ever sent me. Always.
The doorbell rings and I rub my eyes. I’m too exhausted for guests, but they keep coming: my friends, the baseball team, my coaches, teachers, my parents’ friends.
Mom and Dad’s slightly raised tones indicate that they’re disagreeing over something, and I don’t care enough to figure out the issue. I expect them to continue the argument, but what I don’t expect is Mom’s voice at the door of my room. “Because I said so.”
She throws a glare down the hallway before addressing me. “Ryan, you have a guest.”
Before I can ask who, Beth walks into my room with her left arm in a sling. The breath slams out of my body. She’s here. Forgetting about my injuries, I rush to sit up—and wince. The smell of roses overwhelms me and I glance up to see Beth by my side.
“You look like hell. Have you been resting at all?”
The right side of my mouth quirks up. “It’s nice to see you too.”
“I’m serious.” Beth doesn’t wear worry well and the ache on her face bothers me.
I capture the hand she uses to try to push me back down, bring it to my lips, and kiss her palm. God, I’ve missed her.
A clearing of a throat and I notice Scott standing beside my mother at the door. “A few minutes, Beth, then we’re heading home.”
Beth nods and I watch my mother’s reaction to a girl in my room. She studies us, almost like someone seeing a painting they don’t quite get. There’s no malice in her expression, just curiosity. “I’m leaving the door open.”
“Thanks,” I say and I mean it. Mom’s trying now—not only with me, but with Mark, and I have Chris to thank for it. He called Mark when EMS brought me into the emergency room. Mark and Mom talked for the first time while I was in X-ray. Both are silent about the conversation they had, but they’re speaking again. It’s a start.
Scott leans his head in when Mom leaves and stares straight at Beth. “Behave.”
She rolls her eyes. “Because the moment you leave we’re going to go at it like wild animals. Please.” She motions to her arm. “Broken bones and bruises are so attractive.”
Scott shakes his head as he follows Mom to the living room and Beth mirrors his movements. Do they have any idea they’re clones of each other?
Beth sinks onto the bed and turns her head toward me. I don’t like how she looks. Beyond the cuts on her face and head, plus the bruises, she’s too pale and dark circles outline the bottom of her eyes. Wondering if I’m dreaming, I reach over and rub her hair between my fingers. It’s silky and real. I let the strands fall and meet her gaze. “How are you?”
I hate the way her forehead crinkles and the pain weighing her features. She closes her eyes briefly. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault he hurt you.”
“Nope, not going to hear it.” I grab Beth’s hand and coax her to lie with me on the bed.
She resists. “But your mom—”
“What’s she going to say? I’m hurt. You’re hurt. We got tired and lay down. I want to hold you so for once in your life can you not fight me?”
“Wow. Someone’s cranky.”
“Damn right I am.” But the knots twisting my gut begin to unravel when I lie back and Beth wraps her body gingerly around mine. She’s hesitant, testing areas first to confirm the contact won’t make me sore, and I’m gentle when placing an arm around her so that I don’t jostle her arm.
When we’re settled, I exhale and close my eyes. I’ve dreamed of this for seven days. Who knows, I’m probably dreaming now. If I am, maybe Beth will do something that’s hard for her; maybe she’ll give me answers. “Why did you believe Gwen over me?”
BETH
I readjust, snuggling closer to Ryan, but braced for signs that I’ve hurt him. I can hear his heart now and the inhale and exhale of air through his lungs. If I weren’t so damn tired, I could possibly cry. I thought I lost him at my mom’s apartment.
Ryan runs a hand through my hair and I lick my lips, searching for courage. He deserves an answer. If not because he risked his life to save me, then because I love him. “I didn’t trust you.”
His heart beats several times before he speaks again. “Why?”
Because I was stupid. “I don’t know….” I don’t have Ryan’s way with words. They’re hard for me. Difficult. At least words that have emotion. “I guess it was easier to believe that you used me rather than loved me. To be honest…I don’t get it. Why would someone like you want to be with someone like me?”
Ryan tips my chin up so that I have to look him in the eye. “Because I love you. Beth—you’re everything I want to be. You’re alive and live without apology. I never would have made love to you if I thought you didn’t trust me…or love me. And I never would have done it if I didn’t trust and love you.”
I lean up on my elbow and my heart is practically yanked out of my chest by the hurt in his eyes. “I do love you, and I want to trust you…. It’s just that…I try…. And…”
Just damn. I slam my good hand on the bed. Why can’t I explain it? Why am I so impaired?
“Hey.” The authority in his tone causes me to meet his gaze. My heart stalls when Ryan caresses my cheek with one finger and, under his touch, my skin turns red. I miss this. I’ve missed him. Maybe I’m not fucking this all up.
“Breathe,” he instructs. “It’s okay. Take your time, but just keep talking.”
Ke
ep talking. I actually stick out my tongue in disgust and Ryan fights a smile. If he weren’t so battered already I’d sock his arm. I blow out a rush of air and try again.
“I don’t know…. I just don’t…trust…me.” I blink and so does Ryan and it feels sort of scary and exposing to have said something so raw. He rubs my arm, urging me to continue, and I don’t know how to continue. That’s bull. I just don’t want to continue. But this is beyond what I want. This is about me and Ryan.
“I don’t want to make bad choices anymore.” I glance at him, hoping I’m making sense, because I’m not sure that I am. “And I sort of think that any choice is bad because I’m making it and then I meet you and you’re great and you’re wonderful and you love me and I love you and I’m just so damned scared I’m going to screw it all up….”
I slam my eyes shut and my lower lip trembles. “And I did. I messed it all up again.”
Ryan cups my cheek with his palm. I lean into it and open my eyes. “I’m glad it happened,” he says.
“I thought they ran an MRI on your head.”
His eyes laugh. “They did. Just answer me this—before Trent arrived, were you going to leave with me?”
I swallow and I’m nodding before I answer. “Yes.”
“Why?”
My eyes narrow as I try to understand the question.
“No, Beth. Don’t think about it. Just give me the first answer that comes to mind. Why were you going to leave with me?”
My eyes flash to his and my mouth pops open. No, it’s not possible, because if it is, then it’s a first for me.
The same hope I’ve seen a million times from Ryan builds on his face. Is it possible he’s known all along? “Say it, Beth.”
“I love you.” Those used to be the hard words, but now they’re easier. I exhale and the air shakes as it comes out of my mouth.
“Nice try,” he says. “The other thing. Say that.”
“Ryan…” My throat dries out and sweat forms along my hairline. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “But it’s okay.”
His fingers slowly trail down my arm, over my sling, and he rests his fingertips against mine. A warmth unfurls within me, starting in my heart and flowing through my bloodstream. It creates a weird sensation of chains unlocking and breaking free. It’s almost as if I’m floating.
“I trust you,” I say. “I was going to leave with you because I trust you.”
Ryan’s silent, but the small, peaceful smile on his face causes me to smile in return. I wonder if my smile looks like his. I trust him. Ryan. It’s a little scary, but not as much as I thought it would be. Maybe this is it; maybe this is the beginning Scott’s talked about for months—the clean slate.
“Was that so hard?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Ryan touches my hair again. It’s like he requires the contact to confirm I’m not a ghost. “You need to learn how to start trusting yourself.”
I flop down so that my head rests on the pillow beside him. Ryan’s slow as he shifts. Our faces are so close that our noses almost touch. My arm begins to ache and I have a feeling Scott will show soon because he’s timed my pain med schedule into his phone. “Do you mind if I heal first before I tackle any more long-lost resurfacing emotional issues?”
Ryan tilts his head and I silently swear. Apparently we’re not done yet. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Scott said Isaiah came to the hospital,” he begins.
I nod, preferring not to go into this now…or ever. Noah visited me several times while I was in the hospital—once with Echo, and twice on his own. He told me that Isaiah paced the waiting room until he heard I was going to be okay, then he left. My best friend left.
“I think we should talk about it.”
The fingers of my left hand try to tighten, but the blast of pain keeps me from making a fist. I hiss at the sting and Ryan edges closer. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I bite out. “It’s just…I already told you that it’s not like that for me with him.”
“I believe you.”
My brow begins to lift and I stop when the stitches on my forehead pull. Dammit, I’m never going to be able to move again. “Then why bring it up?”
Ryan sucks in a breath and I can tell this conversation is eating at him as much as it is me. “Are you going to see him again?”
No. Yes. “If he’ll let me. But he left the hospital without talking to me. I don’t know what that means.” Screw that. “Yes, of course I’ll see him again. Isaiah and I are friends and he’s going to realize that even if I have to take a two-by-four to him.”
He looks torn between a smile and a sigh. “And you wonder why I’m concerned.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ve got to admit, the life you lived in Louisville is different than the one you have now. I’m scared that if you have a place to run, a person to run to, when things get tough you’ll go.” Ryan stretches out the fingers of my left hand that had begun to retighten. “There’s always going to be someone doubting us, Beth, and I can’t be in this if you’re always running.”
“No more running. I promise.” It’s almost painful to step past my pride to say the rest. “You were right…in Louisville…about me having a life in Groveton. I have you…but I also have Scott and Lacy and school. I like who I am here.”
“Me too,” he says as if proving his case.
“But Isaiah and I go back too far for me to abandon him. I’m here. Heart. Soul. Body. Groveton’s my home, but I will never abandon a friend, especially my best friend.” I stare at the comforter beneath us. “I need you to be okay with it, because I’m not budging when it comes to him.”
After a few moments of silence, I risk a glance. Ryan eventually caves. “Fine. He’s your friend. If you’re going to trust me, then I’m going to trust you.”
I kick off my shoes and rub my toe against his foot. It’s the best I can do with an arm in a sling. “Deal. I love you and…” I swallow my fear and push through. “I trust you.”
“Good.” Ryan’s muscles visibly settle and his eyelids flutter.
“Good,” I repeat, allowing myself to relax along with him. “You know I want to hear it again.”
Ryan moves closer, wraps a protective arm around my waist, and shuts his eyes. “I trust you.”
“Nice try.” I softly mock elbow him with my padded cast and his chest moves as he chuckles. It feels so good to tease him again. “The other thing. Say that.”
“I love you.”
Enjoying his warmth and strength, I melt into him and close my own eyes. “Again.”
“I love you,” he whispers.
“Again.” But this time my mind drifts as I hear his soft declaration. I mean to demand the words again, but then my head finds his chest. His heart beats steadily in my ear and I have my answer. Both Ryan and I lose ourselves in each other and sleep.
RYAN
A year ago, I had my life completely mapped out. It turns out, no one knows the future. I slip my arms through the suit coat and readjust my shoulders so the jacket will fit properly on my body. The bruises and cuts faded, but my ribs still ache by the end of the day. Especially if I’ve pushed myself too hard.
“Your tie is crooked.” Mom leans one shoulder against the door frame and gives a disapproving nod as she looks at my throat. “Come here.”
I inch away from my dresser and Mom undoes the knot.
“You look nice,” she says.
“Except for the tie.”
Mom’s lips tilt up and she slides the tie to measure it against my chest. “Except for the tie. How do you feel?”
“Good.”
Lines worry her eyes and she strains to hold the smile. “I know
the doctor cleared you to start practicing, but I think you should wait another week or two. Just to be sure everything healed correctly.”
Mom expertly weaves the tie into a knot and tightens it up to my throat. She stares at it for a second before letting her hand touch my cheek—a rare physical gesture for both of us. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
She withdraws. “I talked to your brother again this morning. He asked how you were doing.”
Mark knows how I’m doing. We’ve talked on the phone every day since I was released from the hospital. Mark must still be feeling awkward talking to Mom and looking for the easiest conversation to have. I busy myself with buttoning my cuffs. “What did you tell him?”
“That you’re stubborn like your father and wouldn’t tell me if you were in pain.”
“I’m fine, Mom.”
Mom fiddles with her pearls. “If we had listened to you that morning… If we had listened to you weeks before… If I had stood up to your father when Mark told us…none of this would have happened.”
“It’s okay.” I wish they had listened to me the morning Beth ran away. I wish they had listened to me weeks before when I told them I cared for her. I wish Mom had stood up to Dad and kept Mark in our family, but none of that happened. Even if it did, there’s no telling if it would have stopped the nightmare in motion. Beth ran away because living in Groveton terrified her. She would have run regardless of what happened between us and because I love her, I would have followed.
Mom sighs and falls into social mode. “Mark’s coming home for dinner on Sunday. I thought we could keep it simple. Just me, you, Mark…hopefully your father.”
“Sounds great.” Even though we both know Dad will go into town while Mark is home. Dad still refuses to acknowledge Mark exists. Nothing much has changed in my parents’ marriage. Mom’s choosing me and Mark, and Dad dropped the idea of running for mayor. But he’s still home and they’re still going to counseling. As I said, who knows what the future might bring.
“Don’t forget the corsage.” Mom slips out of the room.
Dare You To--A Life Changing Teen Love Story Page 34