I dropped into the chair beside him, saying nothing.
I wasn’t here to interrogate him, but I did want to remind him that he wasn’t as alone as he believed.
Liam squinted from the bright light of the sun, his mouth twisted in a grimace. He rubbed his fingers through his damp hair and a breath whistled between his lips.
“I thought by moving here I’d finally find who I am. I could pursue surfing, work on my photography, live my life. And while I do get to do those things, I’m not even one step closer to finding who I am. I have no identity. I’m simply my father’s child.”
I looked at him closely. “That’s not true.”
“It is.” He nodded, his teeth clenched. He turned to look at me fully and there was no mistaking the pain, the absolute torment, in his eyes. “When I went to get groceries yesterday there was a magazine with a picture of me on the cover. One of those little pictures they add on the sides of magazines—you know, not the main story, but something juicy enough to get your attention. It was a picture of us at Mo’s, but it was zoomed in on me drinking my beer and you know what it said?” He laughed almost manically. “’Mathias Wade’s son has a drinking problem.’” He shook his head harshly, his lips twisting in anger. “Mathias Wade’s son.” He mimicked with disdain. “Not only do they print lies, but they couldn’t even list my fucking name because I don’t matter.” He jabbed a finger at his chest.
Behind us we heard a small squeak and Willow stormed forward. “You do matter!” She cried, bending to jam a finger against his chest. “You matter to me, to your parent’s, to mine. You matter to all of us!” She threw her arms out wide. Stabbing her finger at him again, she said, “And since when do you care if you matter to the media? You hate the media! Or do you hate the fact that you’re not the center of attention? Is that what it is?” She shook her head and tore at her hair.
Turning sharply on her heel she stormed off and down the stairs to the beach.
Liam stood to follow her, but my hand shot out forcing him to sit back down.
“No.” I shook my head. “You’ll only make her more mad. Let me talk to her.”
His disapproval was evident on his face, but he nodded reluctantly.
I left him to sulk and followed after Willow.
I spotted her light blonde hair in the distance.
She sat in the sand with her knees drawn up to her chest and her face tilted towards the sun.
I took my time getting to her, but when I was only a few feet away she spoke loud enough for me to hear.
“I want to go home.” She dashed away tears from her face. “I was having so much fun before we got here. I thought seeing Liam would be great, but things are so different. I don’t want to be here. It’s sucking the life out of me.”
I dropped to the sand beside her.
I didn’t reach for her. I knew that in this moment she didn’t need my comfort.
“We can go home,” I told her.
“Good.” She nodded, rubbing at her reddened nose.
I hated seeing her like this, so broken and empty for Liam.
She stood then and dusted the sand from the back of her shorts. “I’m getting in the ocean first, though.”
I grinned up at her. “Of course you are.”
“And I’m stealing one of Liam’s surfboards. If it mysteriously ‘breaks’ you better not tell him it was me.” She pointed a finger in warning at me.
“Never.” I raised my hands in defense.
She smiled down at me. It was only a half-smile, full of sadness and regret. I didn’t like the sight of it on Willow one bit. “Thank you.”
I dipped my head in acknowledgment. I knew she wasn’t thanking me for not tattling, but for everything else.
She wiggled out of her shorts and tossed off her tank top so she was left only in a strapless white bikini top and teeny tiny bottoms that did little to cover the curves of her ass.
She kicked her clothes towards me and cracked a coy smile. “You coming, Wentworth?”
“Absolutely.”
She took off running and I went full-speed after her.
She screamed when I caught her around the waist and spun her around.
“Dean!” She laughed.
I carried her into the water and she kicked at the surface of it, spraying up water droplets all around us.
I was glad she was happy, for the moment at least.
And soon I’d have her away from this place.
From Liam.
From all the things that were dimming her light.
***
“You’re leaving?!” Liam thundered as I took Willow’s bag from her hands and started towards the garage. “You just got here!” He stormed after me. His shoes slapped harshly against the concrete of the garage.
I ignored him, for the moment at least.
I stepped outside through the open garage door and deposited Willow’s bag in the trunk. She already sat in the passenger seat, looking happier than she had since we got here. Her baseball cap sat backwards on her head and she blew a bubble. It popped loudly and Liam turned his glare to her.
“It’s time for us to go,” I finally responded to his previous question and slammed the trunk closed.
A muscle in his jaw ticked and his hands clenched at his sides.
I had to go around him to get in the car, and since he stood so close it meant our chests bumped.
His glare could’ve set the world on fire when I finally got in the car.
“Good seeing you Liam.” I smiled pleasantly up at him.
My mom always said to kill people with kindness.
He backed a step away, shaking his head. A normal person would’ve apologized, maybe even begged us to stay, but not Liam.
He watched with a stony expression as I backed out of the driveway.
He didn’t wave or acknowledge us in any way.
Willow looked back at him and her hands shook on her lap. I knew she was torn about her decision to leave, but it was for the best.
Liam needed to get his shit together and he couldn’t do that with us here.
As soon as the house was out of sight behind us Willow let out a sigh of relief and smiled over at me.
“Road trip round two?” She waggled her brows and slipped her sunglasses on.
I took her hand in mine, lifting it to my lips and pressing several light kisses to her knuckles.
“You okay?” I asked her.
She glanced out the side of the car at the passing scenery—thank God there were no cows she could count, only houses and palm trees.
“I will be,” she said softly.
I knew she would be, Willow never let anything get her down for long, but it was still good to hear.
Willow
It was a little bit after seven in the evening when we arrived in Flagstaff, Arizona. I hadn’t wanted to stop anywhere, but for gas and food, and Dean obliged.
We were eight hours away from Malibu, and I finally felt like I could breathe.
Visiting Liam had been one of my worst ideas ever, which was hysterical considering that time I went skinny dipping in the Hudson River in March—it’s not something I’d recommend doing.
Dean took care of checking into the hotel while I sat in the car.
My stomach rumbled with the need for food and as if conjured by the sound of my rumbling tummy, Dean finally reappeared.
“Let’s put our stuff away and go grab dinner.”
“It’s like you read my mind sometimes,” I told him as I tumbled out of the car. I nearly scratched my knees on the asphalt but managed to catch myself and sprung to attention.
He shook his head at my antics but said nothing.
He strode around to the trunk of the car to grab our duffle bags while I slung my backpack across my shoulders and reached for his guitar case in the back.
The hotel was ordinary, with a tan exterior and shitty landscaping.
I didn’t care, though. I was grateful to be out of Malibu. I
couldn’t take it another minute in that place, which was a shame because it was so beautiful.
Dean and I were quiet as we rode the elevator up to our room.
I smiled when he opened the door and I saw that there was only one bed.
“Ooh, I like the way you think.” I waggled my brows and set down his guitar case before diving face first onto the bed.
I bounced a few times before settling.
“Forget food,” I turned my head to the side to look at him as he approached the bed, “I want sleep.”
“Nope. Not yet.” He poked my side, right in my most ticklish spot.
“Dean!” I cried, wiggling away. “That was mean.”
“I think you’ll survive.”
“I won’t. I’m bleeding internally.”
He chuckled under his breath and moved to stand in front of the window.
The air conditioner kicked on, the loud whir of it rumbling around the room like an old truck.
Turning back around to face me, he clapped his hands together.
“Come on. Time to go. I need food and I need it now.”
I tried to glare at him, but it was futile.
I shucked off my backpack and reluctantly followed him out of the room.
We found a local burger joint a few blocks away. The place was small, a little hole in the wall place to be honest.
The inside was decorated in black, white, and lime green, with strange spindly chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. They looked almost alien.
We walked up to the counter and placed our order.
They handed us a receipt with our order number and we waited off to the side after we’d gotten drinks since there were no empty tables.
There still weren’t any free tables by the time we got our food so we headed to the car and Dean drove around, finally pulling into an empty field.
“Aren’t you afraid someone will yell at us to get off their property?” I teased him. I knew Dean hated to do anything that might get him in trouble or make someone mad.
He shrugged, rifling through the greasy paper bag. “You must be rubbing off on me.”
“’Bout time.” I reached into the bag and grabbed a fry, shoving it into my mouth.
Who cared about manners? Certainly not me.
Glancing around, I pointed and laughed. “Look! A cow!”
Beside me Dean’s head lolled to the side and he groaned. “Enough with the cows.”
“I can’t. They’re my spirit animal.”
Dean chuckled at this and unwrapped the foil from his burger. “What’s mine?”
I pondered his question for a moment—choosing a spirit animal was a serious matter.
When the perfect animal came to me I let out a cry of delight. “A sloth!”
Dean choked on his bite of burger. “A sloth? I remind you of a sloth?”
“Sloths are cute, and friendly, and you never hear of them doing anything bad. So yes, you’re a sloth.”
He rolled his eyes at this. “I don’t want to be a sloth.”
“Too late.” I poked his cheek lightly, the thick stubble there scratching my skin. “You asked me what yours was and I answered. Accept your fate.”
He groaned and playfully nipped at my finger. “A sloth,” he said with a shake of his head, “humph.”
I smiled over at him and grabbed my burger from the bag. I wiggled around, trying to get comfortable, and finally sat with my legs propped up on the door.
I hated to leave Liam, but I couldn’t take another moment of being there. It wasn’t good for me, and I didn’t think it was good for him either. I hoped he got his shit figured out, and soon. I didn’t want to see him go down a path he couldn’t come back from. It would tear me apart.
“He’ll be okay,” Dean whispered and reached over to rub his thumb over my forehead in order to smooth away the wrinkles that had formed there. “Maybe your aunt and uncle should go visit him. They’re his parents. Maybe they can shake some sense into him.”
I shook my head doubtfully, but said, “Maybe.” With another shake of my head, like I was trying to erase an etch-a-sketch, I added, “I’m dismissing Liam from my mind for the moment. It makes me sad to think about and I want to enjoy our last few days on the road.”
“Yeah,” he shrugged, taking a large bite of burger and chewing, “your dad still might kill me.” The words were muffled by the food in his mouth, but I still heard.
“I think he’s okay…I hope.”
I guessed it was one thing for him to accept our relationship when he couldn’t see it. Once we were right under his nose? Yeah, that could be a whole different story.
But I wasn’t worried about that.
Instead, I was worried about telling them about my decision not to go to college.
I knew they’d be okay with me dropping out, but they’d want me to have some kind of plan for my life, and right now I had a big fat nothing.
I only had a few more days to figure it out, and that thought filled my body with a rare burst of anxiety.
“What am I going to do with my life?” I whispered softly to Dean.
I grabbed a fry, nibbling on the end of it.
Dean balled up the foil wrapper from his burger and tossed it in the bag before grabbing his second.
“I can’t answer that question for you, Willow. Only you can. As cliché as it sounds, you can be an astronaut, a doctor, hell a cashier at McDonald’s, but whatever you do make sure it’s what makes you happy.” He chewed and swallowed a bite of burger. “You’ve always done what you wanted, don’t let your future be any different just because you have to grow up and accept adult responsibilities.”
I nodded at this. He was right. It still didn’t give me any insight, but it did make me feel better.
“And Willow?” He prompted and waited for me to look at him. “I know you think you have to figure it all out now, but you don’t. Everything will fall into place when the time is right. You have to let it be.”
“Thank you oh wise Yoda.”
He chuckled. “I expect you to get me a shirt with Yoda on it now. I need to expand my collection.”
“And a sloth,” I added with a giggle, already feeling ten pounds lighter after our conversation.
He groaned at this, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
“I swear if you get me a sloth shirt I’ll get Lincoln to help me burn it.”
I mock-gasped. “You would never! And Linc would be too afraid of my wrath to help you.”
Dean chuckled at this and reached inside the bag for a handful of fries. “He is slightly terrified of you.”
“Have you told him about us?” I asked. “Or your parent’s?”
“No,” he shook his head, “I haven’t. I mean, you didn’t even want to tell your parents until you went and accidently spilled the beans. I figured we could tell them once we got home. My mom might pee her pants in excitement,” he warned me, “she’s been rooting for us to get together for…we were probably still in diapers to be honest.” He shrugged.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” I spoke softly. “That we grew up together, did everything together, have seen each other at our best and worst, and now we get to spend the rest of our lives together seeing everything else.”
“It’s pretty crazy,” he agreed, finishing his fries.
My burger was growing cold, so I ate it quickly. I sipped at my soda, watching as the sun began to set.
“I never used to pay attention to the sunset until we went on this trip. It was just something that happened. But now I see how beautiful it is. Every single evening the sky is painted with a kaleidoscope of colors. It’s simple, but breathtaking, and something we should take the time to appreciate. But life gets in the way all the time and suddenly the simple things in life are just there and because it’s a constant we forget it exists.”
Dean wrapped a piece of my hair around his finger and rubbed his thumb over the light blonde lock. Cracking a grin, he said, �
�Who’s Yoda now?”
I smacked his arm and his hand fell away from my hair.
Laughing, he held up his hands. “Hey, you’re always calling me Yoda and that was a very Yoda-esque thing to say—at least in your book.”
My lower lip jutted out.
The action only made him laugh more and then before I could blink he darted forward, holding my face between both of his hands, and kissed me.
His lips pressed firmly against mine, staking claim, and he smoothed his thumb over my cheek.
He ended the kiss quickly and I tucked my head into the crook of his neck.
He held me close, brushing his fingers over my cheeks, chin, and into my hair, as we watched the sun go down.
I wanted to say this was one of those rare perfect moments in time, but every moment with Dean was one to be treasured.
***
When we got back to the hotel I dragged Dean around to the outdoor pool.
I pushed the creaky wrought iron gate open and he followed behind, his fingertips grazing mine.
The gate slammed closed behind us and we were left alone in the empty pool area.
Despite the fact that the pool was open twenty-four hours we were the only ones out there.
There were six old dirty plastic lounge chairs set up on one side of the pool and several table and chair sets on the other side.
The landscaping was dull and lifeless.
The pool, however, was a large rectangle with lights on the sides so the water was lit up in different colors.
I kicked off my Converse and sat down at the edge of the pool, sinking my feet and legs into the cool depths.
Dean removed his shoes before bending and rolling up his jeans as high as they could go.
He sat beside me and put his legs in as well. His skin was tanner than mine—more of a golden bronze compared to my pale white complexion.
His feet and toes were long and slender while mine were short and stubby.
I’d always hated my feet.
Feet in general really.
“Feet are weird.”
Dean laughed at this, kicking his feet so water sprayed up and sprinkled down on us.
“What made you say that?” He asked, wiping away a droplet of water from the end of his nose.
The Road That Leads to Us Page 26