by K Larsen
“That was rude,” she chortles at me.
“So was asking if I have a CD. I’m not that old,” I quip, making a face at her.
“I never said you were old. Sounds like someone has a complex.” She arches a brow at me playfully.
“Har har.” I shoot her a pointed look. Piling into the truck, Allie sits in the middle spot of the back seat so she can hear all the conversation happening during the thirty-minute drive to the launch point.
“Let’s play a game. I spy!” Allie chirps adorably. She’s in a great mood today which makes me happy. Lately she’s been sulking and full of attitude. Clara assures me it’s normal for her gender and age but Jesus, there are moments when I’m ready to beat the kid.
“I spy...” I say and start looking at the scenery around us. Got it. A bug squashed into the windshield. “...something black,” I say smugly. Looking over to Pepper, I notice she’s not looking around for said object, nor is she smiling. I reach out, covering her forearm with my palm, face clearly asking “what’s wrong” silently. Her eyes are blank and she just stares at me like she’s a million miles away.
“The mileage sign!” Allie tries excitedly.
“Nope,” I say, still focusing on Pepper. She shakes her head just barely, eyes swimming in sorrow, and turns to stare out the window. My gut says to leave it. If she wanted to explain she would have, and Allie is here, so maybe it’s not the right time.
“The car ahead!” Allie tries again.
“Nope.” I wink to her in the rearview mirror. She frowns back at me and looks around.
“Pepper, help me!” Allie pleads, reaching forward and playfully poking Pepper in the arm.
“I’m not big on car games,” Pepper answers flatly.
Oh hell no. Do not make my kid feel like a fool for wanting to pass the time with a fun little game, no matter how annoying it is in reality.
“Yeah, Pepper. Help her,” I push. It’s an asshole move, I know, but I’d rather drive home the point that it’s crap to shoot down a kid. Her eyes dart to mine and she scowls at me. I sense I’ve crossed some invisible line with her but unless she tells me what it is, how the hell would I know? I hold her glare, unwilling to back down. Communicate or pay the consequence.
“I have the new Miley Cyrus album on my Spotify, want to listen?” Pepper offers, removing her eyes from mine and looking to Allie. Allie squeals and hands the auxiliary cord from the back seat up to Pepper so she can plug her phone into the jack.
“Does no one want to know what the something black was?” I ask, perplexed at the one-eighty that’s taken place.
“No,” both reply in unison.
“Figures.” I frown. I think I’m destined to never truly understand the conundrum that is the female species.
Clean, clear water, a shallow depth, and swift-moving current make this river perfectly relaxing. We couldn’t have picked a better day to be out on the water. The sun is beating down on us, making the river feel absolutely perfect in temperature. Beers, beer floaties, inner-tubes, sun, Pepper and Allie, a perfect way to spend an afternoon. It’s peaceful out here on the water: kids laughing, the water murmuring as the current moves, and not a cloud in the sky. Two gorgeous females accompany me and I feel strangely at ease with life in general. I could get lost in this moment and be content. Pepper’s nose is wrinkled up as she smiles, dropping her head back toward the bright sun.
The rock in the middle of the rapids has kids gathered, all waiting in turn to jump off. Allie stands at the top patiently waiting while Pepper and I float leisurely next to each other.
“Tell me what happened in the car,” I hedge. I want her to know it’s okay to talk. To expel whatever her mind is wrapped up in.
“Huh?” Pepper says and shrugs, swiveling her float towards me.
“Pepper, the ‘I Spy’ game. You totally were all grumpy about it,” I remind her.
“Oh. We’re still on that?” she asks.
“I am,” I answer.
“The last time I played...things didn't end well,” she answers cryptically.
“What is that supposed to mean? It’s a game for crap’s sake,” I ask. She sighs and takes a slug of her beer before meeting my eyes.
“That’s all I’m going to say about that. I’d rather not remember it.” She means business. Her entire face, her body language, makes it clear this conversation is over. One hand pushes into the clear water and paddles her float just slightly away from me to face Allie who is now next in line to jump. For a moment I watch Pepper’s hair float along the top of the water behind her tube. I’m baffled. Her response makes no sense to me at all. Her golden sun-kissed skin almost glows in the bright sunshine. So many oddities and so many things I want to know more about. Why she plays everything so close to the vest escapes me. I paddle up to her and latch our tubes together just before Allie steps up to the edge of the rock. She smiles brightly and waves to us. Pepper enthusiastically waves back to her as do I. Pepper reaches out, grabbing my hand, and holds it while Allie jumps. Her small, lanky body flails in the air, her eyes wide with adrenaline before she plummets into the water. I laugh at the sight. Pepper turns to me with a smile, squeezing my hand.
“I’m sorry, Sawyer. I’m trying. I know you don’t understand. But, I am trying,” she says, her voice small but sincere. I don’t want to push her. I want answers to my questions but I’m willing to wait it out for now.
“Okay.” I nod, squeezing her hand back. She releases my hand just before Allie paddles up to us in her tube.
“That. Was. EPIC!” she squeals loudly. Pepper bursts out laughing. Watching the scene before me sends a wave of appreciation through me. How right this moment is—life is a quiet kind of spectacular. I feel a strange bubble of bliss, safely shrouded from the nuisances of everyday life.
By the time we crawl out of the river, we’re all tinged slightly pink. The sky is painted gold, orange, and blue as the sun starts its descent. Allie haphazardly tosses her tube into the pile of rented ones, making the entire pile undulate like a Jell-O cake. Pepper’s follows next and lastly I relinquish mine. Everyone is smiling and quiet as we make our way to the truck.
“That was so fun. Thanks for inviting me,” Pepper says, buckling herself in.
“You’re welcome,” Allie chirps. I chuckle and shake my head.
“We had a good time, you’re welcome to join us on any adventures,” I tell her. Allie nods her head vigorously while grinning and Pepper blushes.
I watch as Pepper hugs Allie, thanking her for a lovely day. Allie beams and leans in close, whispering something to Pepper. I can only imagine what. Pepper’s eye widen before a white, toothy smile takes over her face. She kisses Allie’s forehead and laughs before turning and walking to her door. She waves to me and Allie, who’s tucked beneath my arm, before walking in the door.
“What’d you say to her?” I push Allie for details.
“Girl stuff,” she says, shooting me a look.
“Allie,” I say sternly.
“Sawyer,” she drawls with pure Clara attitude before slamming the truck door shut. It crosses my mind that maybe I’m doomed to never truly understand the female species. As we pull into the driveway at home I notice a text notification blinking. I swipe the screen to read, hoping it’s from Pepper.
“Thursday. Patch in. Congrats Hydrant.”
I stare at the text message for longer than necessary. I am finally patching in. The parties they throw to patch in are legendary: booze, music, girls, a loud, all-night-long ruckus. I cannot wait. My mind instantly wanders to Pepper. I want her there.
“Thursday night I patch in. Would like you to be there?”
I hit send and hope like hell that Pepper will agree to come to the party to celebrate with me. I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to invite. I set my phone on the counter and start to put away the gear from today’s adventure, trying to quiet my mind of the hope warming my body. I can’t wait for Pepper’s response.
Chapter 16
Four-letter Words
I’ve been driving myself insane for two days now. A tortuous mix of self-doubt is battling my willpower and anger. I feel like an insecure little bitch. It’s taken me thirty minutes longer than normal to wrap up my paperwork for the day because my thoughts keep wandering to Pepper and whether or not she will call. I look up from the last of my paperwork towards the distinct rumble I hear. Pepper’s bike comes to a stop outside the shop. It’s a quarter past six. I haven’t heard from her since we went tubing. Two full days of radio silence. She never even responded to my text that night. I watch as she tugs her helmet off, sets it on her bike, and strides purposefully into the shop. Anger overwhelms me. I’m hurt and mad but I’m also not sure that I have reason to be. I don’t get mad at other friends when I don’t hear from them for a few days.
“Hi,” I clip as she approaches. She doesn’t respond or stop until she is toe to toe with me. I stare down at her, thoroughly confused as she shoots daggers at me. She can’t possibly be mad at me. I sent her a text before she even got home on Sunday. Heat radiates off her body. My arms want to reach out and wrap around her shoulders but I will them to stay where they are.
“Have time to take a ride?” she finally asks, breaking the tense silence between us. I sigh and roll my shoulders.
“I don’t know, Pepper. What’s up?” I ask. I have a thousand questions running through my mind. Why’d you drop off the grid? Why are we playing this game? Why can’t I just be a part of your life? I stay silent, though, refusing to budge. She shuffles her feet and opens her mouth but nothing comes out. I wait. I’ve had lots of time to perfect my bullshit meter and she’s setting off alarms left and right. I’ve ignored them. I’ve let my hormones lead but now, now I need more. A soft sigh falls from her lips. Her hands are clutched tightly into themselves at her sides. Her chest rises and falls. I watch as a single tear spills from the outside corner of one eye and drips off her chin. It tears me up. She doesn’t move to wipe it away. She’s trying to tell me something but I don’t know her well enough to know what. Instinct takes over. The protector comes out and I lean down, regarding her just a moment longer before kissing her softly on her forehead. A wheezy breath escapes her.
“You are pure. You’re good, Sawyer. Sometimes, I get lost in our moments together. Sometimes I think you’re my last chance at being human again.” The words fall faintly from her lips, laced with remorse and sorrow.
“I don’t know what you mean, Pepper,” I push.
“I know you don’t.” She tips her face up to look at me. “I know I must seem all...cryptic. I don’t want you to have to understand that. I want...”
“Are you high?” I ask, taken aback. Her pupils are dilated and her jaw’s clenched.
“What?” she asks.
“Are. You. High,” I say in staccato for emphasis.
“Does it matter?” she scoffs. “I’m trying to...”
“Yes! Of course it matters! FUCK, Pepper. You show up here out of the blue, start what seems like a serious conversation, and I’m supposed to be okay with it coming from you while you’re high? What are you on?” I grind out, irritated and cutting her off.
“Ecstasy.” Her lips tip upward just slightly on the word, pissing me off.
“Did you think you’d waltz in here, say some meaningful words, and then be able to screw me, Pepper? Although I’d love nothing more, I have a few standards. I want you because I like you. I see what you’re doing. Driving your bike around like you stole it. Like you have a death wish, drugs, drinking, fucking because you think that gives you power. Power is just an illusion, Pepper. Grow up.” I step backwards from her, not caring at the tears streaming down her face now. I thought the pot was recreational, the hard alcohol occasional, and the driving, well hell, that kind of race driving is just stupid. Bikes are meant to be enjoyed, leisurely. But ecstasy? That’s just one thing too many to overlook.
“You don’t get to tell me how to live my life, Sawyer. You don’t know jack about what I’ve been through, what pain I live with!” she clips.
“So tell me!” I yell at her. She flinches, counts softly, and looks up to me.
“I...I can’t,” she sobs brokenly.
“Why the hell not!?”
“I can’t. I want to, I do. It’s not possible.” Her finger rubs the scar at the bridge of her nose lightly. Her lips move silently, counting again.
“Stop counting damnit!” I bellow. “You know what I want? I want to date you. I want my friends, the MC, to meet you. I want to know what your favorite fucking color is, how you take your coffee, where your ticklish spots are. I want to know what you wear to bed, or how you look when you wake up first thing in the morning. I want to make you shiver when I touch you.” I take a step towards her and drag a finger down her arm. Her entire body jolts. I lean down until our mouths are almost touching. “I want to make your heart race.” Straightening, I turn my back to her and slam my hands on the front counter in frustration. “I’m waiting for the day when your bark will lose its bite, Pepper, but I’m losing hope.”
“Hope is a four-letter word, Sawyer,” she breathes. Her words shock me. Such a sad way to think. Why on Earth would someone ever say that? I turn to her. Tears slowly drip to the floor. Her head hangs.
“Love. Live. Life. Hope. Baby. Hunk. Soul. Balm. Calm. Loss. Myth. All four-letter words. All full of meaning. You don’t get to decide if they stand up to their definitions. You don’t get to redefine them. There will always be pages that hurt to look back on in your life. There will always be regrets. Hope is hope, Pepper. It exists.” Anger flashes in her eyes at my words.
“Hope kills souls,” she grits out. Turning on the ball of her foot, she jogs to the door, letting it slam shut behind her. I start to follow but find myself unable to execute. Hope kills souls. What the hell could she possibly mean by that? The sound of her bike firing up brings me out of my thoughtful fog. Remembering she’s high sends a panic through me. I rush out the door, locking it as quickly as possible. I can hear her bike still. She can’t be too far yet. I hop on my bike and head out in the direction I think she went.
It takes ten minutes to catch up to her. She’s speeding around the twisting corners of the mountain road without much regard for safety. The expression “ride it like you stole it” is how she rides. I ride for pleasure; she rides like she’s being chased. She doesn’t acknowledge me at first, but I choose to keep up with her. I’d never forgive myself if something happened because she was an idiot who rode off mad and high. A small clearing at a sharp bend overlooks a babbling, small river. She slows slightly, fishtailing into the clearing. My breath hitches as I watch her try to control her bike. I slow and pull up next to her. She’s panting. She swings her leg over the bike, letting it fall to the dirt. Hands on her knees, helmet vent open. I put my kickstand down, kill the engine, and walk to her.
“Don’t,” she grits. “Just, don’t.” She holds up a hand to stop me from getting closer. I stop and watch instead. “I lost someone I love. It was tragic and fucked up. It...it wrecked me. I haven’t made a single friend here outside of Greta until you. I have no personal connections because people who’re near me get hurt.” She pauses taking a breath and looking weary. “I live with that guilt every day. It eats at me. Drinking, E, pot, it makes me feel alive in a way I can’t on a daily basis. It’s short-lived and never true, I know that, but the thrill, the rush, it’s all I have. You don’t get to judge that, Sawyer. People don’t get close to me. You, though, you’ve weaseled your way in, making me want more. I don’t honestly think I’m capable of giving more, though. I war with myself about it daily.” Her words are short and choppy now like her breathing. Hurt bleeds from her, sorrow and regret, leaking out from her pores. It’s almost as if she’s drowning in her emotions. I pull her helmet off gently so she can pull herself together. She straightens up and gazes at me with such intensity that I have the overwhelming urge to hold her, to take some of the burden off her shoulders. Whatever
events and experiences she’s lived through are painful in a way I probably don't or won't understand. It’s evident in her eyes.
“I want to hurt whoever did this to you, whoever scarred you so deeply,” I whisper as she sniffles. “Are you all right?” Her eyes stay trained on mine. Fierce and fiery.
“Every action has a consequence, Sawyer. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It doesn’t matter if you run or hide or just try to live in the moment. Eventually it catches up to you. Being with me would end up having a consequence. Not a happily ever after.”
“Pepper, the world isn’t man-meets-woman; they fall in love, and are torn apart for one of them to rescue the other for a happy ending. You fall in love, sometimes fall out, but you always fall in love again someday. You’re robbing yourself of that chance.” Her hand clutches mine tightly. I look down between us, unsure of when we connected. She’s holding my hand like it’s saving her life. Her small hand is warm and I wilt at her touch. How do I get through to her?
“I’m protecting others from me, not robbing myself of chances,” she says desperately.
“Protecting others from what, though? What kind of evil do you think you harbor in that head of yours?” My brows furrow and my face is twisted up tightly, making my jaw ache.
“It’s not evil.” She shakes her head. There is something forbidden in her eyes. “I felt so normal on the river that day. I felt so at ease. Peaceful, like we were in some perfect bubble of bliss. I didn’t want it to end. But the guilt after I went home, the guilt of knowing I could ruin you, I could ruin Allie, if I gave into you…it ate me alive. The last two days have been awful. So many moments I wanted to text you or call or just show up. I’m sorry about today. I lost my willpower. I never should have stopped at the shop. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. It’s impossible to ask anyone to just understand blindly and that’s all I have to offer.” She releases my hand; a chill runs up my arm at the loss of contact.