Family Ties

by Debi V. Smith

  “Shit! I’m sorry, sis!” She dumps the phone in her purse.

  “You mean you’re the reason Nicole knows where I am?” Hunter asks, eyes narrowing at Arissa.

  She puts her hands up, palms out. “I—I—I’m really sorry, Hunter.”

  “I’ve taken a lot of shit from you since we met, and I did it because Sara’s my friend and you’re her sister.”

  Arissa bites her lower lip and Jason takes hold of Hunter’s arm. “Let it go, man.” Despite his words, he glares at her. “From now on, you leave all of us out of your check-ins and statuses.”

  She nods, slumping her shoulders and then turns away until Mom joins us.

  Arissa explains to Driver Deputy how the sisters have been finding us. He takes note of this and tells us we can leave. Mom gives Arissa the same look she gave us when she stepped out of the bridal shop. Arissa hangs her head and heads for the car.

  “I thought she was smarter than that,” Mom says, letting Arissa go alone.

  “None of us thought about it, Mom.”

  At least we have an end to the Statton sisters wreaking havoc in our lives. Even if it means going to court yet again, but I’ve done that before.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

  I moved into our apartment while Jason was at a tournament in New York with the team. Spending two days alone was a new experience. Unpacking and setting everything up kept me busy and I stayed up late talking to Hunter last night.

  “We just got off the bus and we’re about to walk back to the dorm now,” Jason tells me over the phone. “Can you come over?”

  “Sure.”

  “Cool. Give me twenty minutes.”

  I leave on time and drive his car so I’m not walking home in the dark. I turn the corner of his building and halt. My heart slams against my chest.

  How could he?

  Jason is outside his room kissing a woman with his hands on her waist. Her arms are wrapped around his neck. He pulls away and steps back while saying something to her. His eyes flicker up and lock onto mine.

  “Parker!”

  I run.

  I run as fast as my legs will take me.

  He chases after me. “Parker! Wait! Sara!”

  This isn’t the game of Tag we played. This isn’t a game at all. I’m running as if my life depended on it, not for play. My arms propel me forward, one long stride after the other. I unlock the car with the remote when I’m in range, then jump in the passenger side and lock the door behind me.

  Jason reaches the car as the lock pops into place. “Parker! Open the door!” He tugs on the handle. “Parker!”

  I watch him bang on the window with the palm of his hand as the shock wears off. A surge runs through my body and the floodgates open. I can’t stop the tears and I cover my face with my hands.

  This is what I secretly waited for. It was there on the sidelines with the demons. The demons may be gone, but one of their offspring hung around. The confirmation that Jason could never love someone as damaged as me. The unceremonious dump for someone better, someone whole. Proof that Simon is right.

  “Sara, please! It’s not what you think! Please, open the door!”

  I shake my head as my body undulates with uncontrolled, hard sobs. My chest caves in from the weight of torment. I want it to just collapse in on itself and make me disappear completely.

  “Parker! Please!”

  I curl into a ball and give myself over to the weeping. The car rocks from something hitting it. Someone. Jason. I remain huddled, or I’ll have to see his face. His lying, traitorous face.

  I gave myself to him. I moved up here for him. And all this time he had another woman on the side up here. How could I be so stupid?

  My body shudders at the end of my crying jag and I open my eyes gradually. I don’t see him around the windows and I raise up in one swift motion while scanning the area. I finally peer down outside the window. He sits on the asphalt with his back to the door, his hands on his head, and elbows resting on his bent knees.

  A duel between rage and compassion erupts within when I recognize his suffering, each emotion seeking the lone spot on the victory stand. I’ve witnessed his anguish since Mike died, but I can’t forget what I just saw. I want to cradle him in my arms and I want to knock him out. I didn’t move up here and set up our apartment while he was at a tournament in New York for this. I deserve better, no matter how damaged I am.

  I jam the key in the ignition and turn it one click. Music blares through the speakers and I hit the button to silence it. Fuel. How appropriate. I’m having a very bad day right now.

  When I turn back to the window, Jason fills it. Our gazes fasten on each other. His eyes are rimmed in red and his face is streaked with salty tears.

  “Please, Sara. Open the door,” he begs in a whimper.

  I press the lock back. He yanks the door open and falls to his knees, searching for my hands with his. I wrench them away and he drops his hands in his lap.

  “Why?” I ask, my voice cracks with emotion.

  “I didn’t, Parker. She she just threw herself at me when we got back to the dorm.”

  I stare out the windshield. Anywhere but at Jason to let the rage win inside. “So it’s all her fault,” I state, my jaw tight.

  “Yes.”

  I cross my arms. “That’s not what it looked like.”

  “That’s what it was,” he insists, placing his hands over my knee.

  I swipe his hand off. “Don’t you fucking touch me!”

  He lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender.

  I drill him with my eyes. “It looked like you two knew each other well.”

  He opens his mouth and pauses, then closes it.

  “We said no more secrets, J!”

  He looks down with his mouth drawn. “It was the girl I told you about before.”

  The betrayal cuts deep into my insecurity, then nicks the untapped anger, allowing it to pour out unrestrained. I squeeze my hands into fists and pound on the dashboard with the sides, letting out a primal scream in the process.

  Jason doesn’t interfere, probably knowing he’ll become the target of my fists if he did.

  I straighten myself in the seat, then glare at him when my tirade ends. “I’m leaving. Now,” I say, low and even.

  “Please stay and talk to me, Parker.”

  “I can’t talk to you, listen to you, or look at you right now.”

  He stands and I maneuver into the driver’s seat. He bends down and looks inside. “Please call me when you make it home.”

  “Fine.”

  He shuts the door and steps back.

  I turn the key in the ignition one more time and the car thrums. I put the car in reverse and check behind on both sides before backing out. I make no attempt to look at Jason.

  I drag myself from the car to the apartment minutes later, weak and exhausted. I pick up the phone and dial Jason’s room rather than his cell phone.

  “Yo,” Tommy answers.

  “Hey, Tommy.”

  “Sara! I thought you were coming over.”

  “I was there, now I’m back home. Tell Jason I made it home.”

  “Do you want to talk to him?”

  “No.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I burst into fresh tears.

  “What happened?”

  The scene replays in my head and the feelings then crying intensifies. “Tommy, I…“

  “Sara, let me come over,” he says, concerned.

  I just found Jason in a lip lock with another woman and I’m a wreck. My instinct is to say no, but I remind myself that he’s not Jason or Simon. He’s always friendly when I call and visit. He gave up the comfort of his bed so Jason and I could have privacy. He was protective of me when I punched Jordan. He has never given me a reason not to trust him.

  He says my name again, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “Okay.” I give him the apartment number to call from the gate.

  My mind is numb a
nd won’t hold on to a thought. I lie on my side on the folded up futon, staring at the blank TV, wanting nothing more than to hide myself in the crease of the futon. The ringing phone brings me out of my stupor and I stumble for it. I buzz Tommy in, open the door, and flop back down on the futon.

  He walks through the door a minute later, dressed in jeans, gray UCLA basketball shirt, and his collarless leather jacket. He closes the door and shrugs out of the jacket, dropping it by the door.

  He makes it to the futon in a few, long strides and sits next to me. He draws me into his embrace and I start bawling again. I wrap my arms around him and hide my face in his shoulder.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he says, rocking.

  The lulling movement settles me and I calm after a few deep breaths. I pull back and wipe my eyes with the back of my hands.

  “What happened?” he asks, his tone gentle and one arm still around me.

  I recount what happened when I got to the dorm and Jason’s story.

  “Mandy,” Tommy says, exhaling.

  “That’s her name?”

  “Yeah. She’s been a problem since we moved in.”

  “He told me before there was a girl who wouldn’t leave him alone.”

  “That’s her. She was waiting at our door when we got back,” he tells me. “Jason loves you and I know he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his future with you.”

  “I want to believe him, Tommy, but there’s something more going on. He didn’t deny it when I asked him if he knew her well.” I pause. “Does he know you’re here?”

  “He said you should have someone to talk to since you’re alone.” He rubs my arm. “Look, if it makes a difference, I’ve never seen him alone with Mandy. If anything, we’re always trying to chase her away when she comes around. He gets really unsettled when he sees her.”

  “How so?” I wring my hands in my lap, fighting against the rocking and tapping my body wants to do instead.

  “He shuts down and stops being himself.”

  I stare at my moving hands. Secrets and lies.

  “Don’t overthink it. He only talks about you. Until you decided to move up here, he was brooding all the time. I was worried he was going to quit the team and school.”

  “He almost did.”

  “He what?” He rubs the back of his neck.

  I pick at my fingernails. “After Mike died. He was thinking about staying home. Until I chose to come up here.”

  He nods. “What do you say we order some pizza? I’m starving. My treat.”

  I roll my eyes at him in jest. “You guys are always starving.”

  “We burn a lot of calories.” He gives me a big grin and it’s like the sun moved indoors.

  We sit at the table flush against the end of one of the kitchen counters forty minutes later with a pizza with the works from a local place in Westwood.

  “This is amazing,” I proclaim.

  “Right? Local places are always the best.”

  “I mean this is better than the local place we went to all the time back home. And that is seriously good pizza.”

  “So, tell me the Jason and Sara history,” Tommy prompts and takes a bite of pizza. “He said he’s known you a while and that you started dating a couple of years ago, but that’s about it. He talked about what you’re like as a person instead, so we all felt like we knew you before we met you.”

  “You know how we met and a bit about my biological family.” I give Tommy more detail about the last four years while we eat.

  “This is why we’re so fascinated with you,” he says, awestruck. “I can’t think of a girl from ninth grade I’d want to date now.”

  “Women don’t seem to hold interest very long for you guys.” I’ve never seen any of the guys with the same woman twice.

  “All the women who show interest in us either want to be the girlfriend of any athlete, or want to say they slept with one.”

  “And you’re more than obliging with the latter,” I point out.

  “Well, when you put it that way, yeah. I get my needs met and she gets to say she had a one-night stand with me.”

  “It’s so hard being a jock,” I jest.

  “So hard.” He grins and laughs, then his expression flattens. “I’m saying this as a big brother.” He covers my hand with his. “Don’t throw away the last four years because a psycho bitch won’t leave Jason alone. You both deserve more than that. And I think he’d fall apart if he lost you so soon after losing his dad.

  “A lifetime partnership means working out the crap together, not ditching the other on the sidelines when times are rough.”

  “Says the big brother not in a relationship.”

  “I may not be in a relationship, but my parents divorced because they wanted things to be good all the time and couldn’t handle the heavy stuff. You and Jason have already been through hard times and you got through them together.”

  I know he’s right, but it’s hard to admit after seeing Jason’s mouth on another woman’s when I’m wearing his ring. “Thanks, Tommy. You didn’t have to come over or even buy me pizza.”

  “You’re family. And on that note, I need to get back.” I follow him to the door and he shrugs his jacket on, turning to me. “Keep an open mind, will you?” he asks.

  “I’ll do my best,” I reply.

  He wraps me up in a bear hug and leaves. I lock the door behind him and stroll over to the phone. I dial Jason’s cell as I sit on the futon.

  “Parker?” he answers on the first ring.

  “Yeah,” I answer quietly.

  “Thank God,” he says. “Is Tommy still there?”

  “He just left. Can you come over tomorrow after practice? I’ll fix dinner,” I say with rapid pressure, worried I’ll lose my nerve and chicken out.

  “I’ll be done at five.”

  I hang up and dial Arissa’s cell. “Sis!” she answers.

  I tell her what happened as fast as possible before emotion can take over and send me into a tailspin.

  “Didn’t you once tell Becky something like what she saw and what really happened were two different things?”

  “Since when are you on his side?” I ask, perturbed.

  “Since ninth grade,” she reminds me. “We may razz each other all the time, but he’s my friend too.”

  I call Hunter next. “Are we going to stay up late again?” he asks after answering the phone.

  I burst into tears one more time and he lets me cry without saying a word, like he’s always done. “What happened?” he asks when I quiet, his voice sharp with the concern I’m so familiar with.

  “I saw Jason kissing another woman.” Instead of rushing through like I did with Arissa, I take my time, giving him more details. The crying jag at the beginning of the call keeps me from feeling like I’m falling into oblivion while I talk. Or it’s just Hunter and his silent support, always letting me get the ragged emotions out of my system before asking questions. Or both.

  “Do you still love him?” he asks.

  “The only things I feel right now are angry, betrayed, and heartbroken.”

  “Think about it. If she’s been harassing him like Becky and Nicole did to us, isn’t it possible that Mandy went just one step further than Becky did the day she had Jason pinned against his car? And if that’s the case, can you move on with him? Because Tommy is right. You need to work through this with him if you’re going to spend your life together. That’s love, Sara.”

  “I know he’s right. I know you’re right. It just hurts so much right now.” My voice wavers as pain overtakes my heart, threatening to trample it.

  “Put the phone down and get a blanket.”

  “What?” What does a blanket have to do with anything?

  “Don’t ask, just do.”

  I blow out an exasperated breath. “Fine.” I grab the comforter out of the closet. “Done.”

  “Is your futon folded up or did you pull it out for the night?”

  “Folded.” I st
ill don’t get it. The blanket. The state of my futon. Where is he going with this?

  “Wrap yourself up tight in the blanket, then wedge yourself into the crease of the futon.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Do it, Sara.” He’s not playing around. I know that tone.

  I follow his friendly order. “Okay.”

  “How does it feel?”

  “Oddly comforting.”

  “That’s me holding you since I can’t be there.”

  He always knows what to do and say to comfort me. Heaviness settles into my body and I let out a yawn. “Thank you, Hunter.”

  “I’m always here for you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

  The phone rings as I remove the lasagna from the oven. I pick it up from the end table, then buzz Jason in and open the door. I return to the kitchen and cut up the lasagna.

  “Smells good,” Jason says, closing the door.

  I spin around. His warm-ups and a white UCLA t-shirt hang loose on him. He sets his duffel next to the door, takes off his jacket, and drops it on the bag.

  I grab two plates and use a spatula to pull out a portion for each plate.

  He enters the dining room. “The place looks great. I can set up the stereo for you before I leave if you want.”

  I set the plates down on the table.

  He pulls me to him by my hips.

  “Don’t…“ I start, pressing my hands against his chest.

  He uses the side of his index finger under my chin to lift my head, and brushes my chin with his thumb. My resolve melts as I recognize the spark in his eyes reserved just for me. He holds my gaze for a minute. My heart flutters.

  Why does it betray me? I’m still angry and hurt.

  “I’m starving,” he says, glancing at the table.

  He seats himself and I remove the salad from the fridge, setting it on the table as I sit down.

  He takes my hand and wraps it up in his. “Thank you for cooking. It really does smell wonderful. I wasn’t just saying that.”

  I pull my hand away. “You’re welcome,” I say, keeping my face flat, expressionless.

  He serves himself some salad and hands me the bowl. I add some to my plate and set the bowl back on the table.

  “This is great,” he says, swallowing his first bite.