“You’ve really never read the book, have you?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I fired back. His senseless question threatened to knock me off balance, but I stamped an imaginary foot down in my mind. I was done. It was time for me to get the hell out of there before I could do something I would really regret…like stay.
“Look, I know you’re not used to hearing no, but I’m finished repeating it. I don’t want to be with you! This fucked up, pretentious Hollywood life is reason enough to run for the hills, but I’m damn sure not interested in your fickle playboy ways either. Get it through your pretty head.”
I took a deep breath. “I. Don’t. Want. You.”
I tried to hide my cringe as he rocked back on his heels away from me, like I’d dealt him a physical blow. A hard sneer twisted his mouth, and I was almost eager for the retaliation I knew was coming. If he struck back hard enough, at least my guilt would be lessened.
He didn’t let me down.
“I never understood before why everyone you’ve ever loved has let you walk away: your parents, friends, Thomas…even Cam. Didn’t they see that you were worth chasing after?” The edge of his unforgiving voice sliced into me. “But I get it now. All you had to do was show them how cold, dead, and unfeeling you truly are on the inside, and I’m sure it was a relief to watch you disappear.”
“I won’t waste anymore of your time then,” I answered, raising my voice to equal his, even when his lash begged me to crack.
I yanked away, spinning in a jerky pivot…and then abruptly stumbled to an embarrassed stop. Our yelling match hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of people on the back lot. Madeline, Alfred, even Cam, along with more than a dozen or so other familiar faces, circled the show we’d just been orchestrating.
I didn’t dare meet their eyes, instead squaring my shoulders and pushing forward through the onlookers.
A hand darted out. “Where are you going? You can’t leave. I need you.”
Madeline’s grip held firm on my arm, impassive to my attempts to shake her off. I refused to meet her eyes, choosing to stare at the ground.
“You can’t leave,” she commanded, trying to use her leverage to corral me back to her waiting entourage.
I wasn’t her helpful little ducky anymore, though. I had no interest in falling back in line. My days of following had begun and ended with Madeline Little.
It wasn’t a pair of green eyes I met when I looked up. My gaze went straight to Alfred who towered behind her, casting a skyscraper like shadow over both of us. I made sure he understood every ounce of the violence I was prepared to use if she didn’t get her hands off of me.
His brown hand clapped on her shoulder at the same time he murmured, “Let her go, kalkuahine.”
I didn’t know if it was his command, or the restraining hand that kept her from coming after me again, and I really didn’t care as I hurried away.
Letting my phone’s battery run down until it died had seemed like a brilliant idea when I’d been inciting every type of avoidance available to me, but as I walked, stranded, I realized it hadn’t been my most thought-out plan.
Without another option, I ended up at the front entrance that led through the studio, instead of cutting around to the back, like my usual routes did. In fact, the only times I’d ever used the public entrance were at the beginning of the summer when Cam needed to speak with someone on the business side of things.
At my bequest, the security guard seated behind the waist-high, rounded desk called a cab and reported the ten-minute wait back to me.
I sagged a little at his words, feeling the slightest relief in pressure on my chest, knowing that an escape was imminent. I glanced over at the small seating arrangement, finding only one person occupying a seat of the ten available. I should have felt relief at the lack of an audience, but instead I was stopped in my tracks for the second time that day.
“Nothing to say, little sister?” Thomas’ ashy blonde hair folded neatly down his part, just like it’d done the last time I’d seen him. He wore a little bit more weight, but he’d always been on the verge of too skinny, so the extra pounds suited him nicely. There were circles under his eyes, and mismatched buttons collecting his striped shirt together, but despite the uncharacteristic flaws in his appearance, he still looked very much like my brother.
I gaped at him, my mind as empty as the piggybank he’d tricked me into letting him have when I was five.
“Close your mouth and sit down, Adley. You’re going to draw attention to yourself, and end up summoning that flock of rabid paparazzi that’s been stalking you. If my friend Marcel over there is right, I only have about nine minutes to say what I need to, before you make your escape again.”
I weighed the pros and cons of Thomas versus the paparazzi before deciding that with Thomas, there was slightly less of a chance of sustaining physical harm. Like a petulant child anticipating the scolding of a lifetime, I sat across from him so my back was facing the glass paneling of the front of the room, where anyone strolling along could look in.
His blue-ish green eyes studied me for a long time, despite his assurances that time was an issue. I let him plaster us with silence, helpless to the warmth of being back in his presence. I had never missed him more than in the moment he sat only feet from me. If I’d dared, I could have reached out and touched him.
“I’ve had years to think up all the things I wanted to say to you. I’ve gone through just about every emotion I’m capable of; I’ve hated you; I’ve cursed the day you were born; I’ve regretted almost everything I’ve ever said to you, as if one sentence could have somehow solved all this; I’ve missed you so bad I wanted to come find you and drag you home kicking and screaming; I’ve wanted nothing more than to forget you.”
He let the words hit me without remorse. They struck the armor of numbness I wore, sticking with intensity I knew I’d feel later.
“But when that article came out, claiming that you were here in California, just minutes from us, and I knew I had to find a way to see you, there’s only been one thing that I’ve been able to think of,” he paused, daring me to try and stop him.
But what he didn’t know was that all those years he’d been hating, cursing, and regretting me, I’d been coming up with far worse things to tell myself every night. I’d spent four years imagining the moment I’d face him again. Each morning, I’d woken up and felt the weight of their hatred. I’d told myself again and again about the shame and pain I caused my family.
There was nothing he could say to me that I hadn’t already said to myself.
“You were wrong,” he remarked finally, a simplicity I hadn’t expected marking his simple statement. “I can’t say how Mom or Dad or even I would’ve reacted if you’d told us you were pregnant before you left, but you know what, Adley? Neither can you, because you just decided how it was going to be, and you acted. You never even gave us a chance to prove you wrong…
“So after all this time, I wanted to look you in the face and tell you that you were wrong for walking away from us. You’re my sister, and I love you. I couldn’t stop even when I’d wanted to. But you were wrong about us. We deserved a shot to do the right thing. We had a right to decide what was best for ourselves without you deciding for us.”
Everything about Thomas looked a little lighter as he watched his declaration settle on me. It had the opposite effect on me. He relaxed, freed of the physical burden he’d just dumped on my shoulders.
I had yet to speak a single syllable in Thomas’ presence. I doubted if I even could.
His words were powerful. They echoed inside of me long after he’d said them. I didn’t have any doubt just how much he’d meant them.
But he was wrong.
I’d left just as much for them as I had for me. They didn’t deserve the burden of my choices. By leaving, I’d set them free. There was nothing I could say so he’d see that though.
The sureness of his gaze made me nervous. Just
as much as I was certain of my own rightness, so was Thomas. And the more I looked, the more I questioned my own certainty. My doubt grew.
“Your cab’s here,” he said, nodding his head to the car that had arrived behind my back.
I walked away and the spell was broken. If anything, I was more determined than ever to leave everything behind. Questioning the past wouldn’t get me anywhere. It was too late for me, and it was time that everyone else saw it too.
There was really only one thing left for me to do….
Chapter Eighteen
Adley
The sky was an ugly gray that stretched thin in every direction I could see out of my window at Cam’s. The hazy weather told me what I already knew. I didn’t deserve the sun. My single black duffle was fully packed, not a pound heavier than the day I’d arrived three months before.
I anxiously watched the hands on the old-fashioned clock sitting on the bedside table tick past, until it was finally time for me to go.
I’d planned my departure perfectly. The flight I’d booked as soon as I’d gotten away from Thomas, was scheduled to leave at an ungodly hour. It was far earlier than Cam’s usual wake up call, and he’d never ever assume I would willingly submit to being awake at sunrise.
Navigating the logistics of my time in the airport was a little trickier. I couldn’t show up too early for the flight, with the possibility that someone actually might recognize me. I wasn’t entirely sure how widespread or popular the knowledge that America’s favorite book had a face to attach to a character had become.
The house was so quiet that even my tiptoed steps down the stairs in the foyer, sounded like an elephant in a china shop. For the first time, I was actually thankful that I’d sold my Brighton rolling luggage to help pay for hospital bills. It would’ve been as loud as the engine on the airplane I was about to board, bumping down the unpadded steps.
Like the prize at the end of the treasure hunt, I reached out victoriously for the cold, shiny metal of the front doorknob.
“Just like that, huh?” Cam’s voice echoed through every facet and crevice of the high-ceilinged foyer, until it felt like he was surrounding me on all sides.
I imagined that was exactly what a fugitive felt like the moment they heard, ‘The place is surrounded! Drop your weapon, and get on the ground!’
My head hung forward, thumping against the door in defeat.
“You weren’t even going to say goodbye?”
No, I didn’t say.
I had little choice but to face him, turning slowly towards where he sat in the living room. He’d turned an armchair so he could recline while he watched the door, apparently predicting my actions all along. I wondered how long he’d been sitting there, just waiting on me to disappoint him.
“It’s for the best.” If I was that tired of repeating the mantra, I couldn’t imagine how bored they were of hearing me say it.
He raised a hand, halting me from continuing.
I expected anger or irritation. I’d anticipated rage and tears. All I got from Cam was a look of exhaustion that sagged through his whole body. The defeat on his face scared me a thousand times more than any of those other emotions ever could have.
It had finally happened.
He’d given up on me. My actions and words had been begging him to do it for years, but nothing could have prepared me for the moment he truly let me go. I felt naked, like a part of me had been ripped away, leaving me exposed. It was terrifying.
He sighed. “Red Shoes, you don’t always get to decide what’s best.”
It was unfair to use that nickname. Tears burned my tear ducts, but I refused to let them fall. Couldn’t he see that it was hard for me too? Why did he have to make it harder?
I shuddered, blinking back my weakness until I’d regained my composure.
“Look,” he began uncomfortably, “about Declan. All those things I said about the two of you, they weren’t coming from your friend. When I said them, they were coming from your ex-boyfriend, and I’m sorry…I think I was wrong about him. He came by last night. I’ve never seen someone –.”
“Don’t.” It was my turn to cut him off. My back hit the door as I retreated like a skittish cat, ready to dart at any moment. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He didn’t fight me on it. Maybe I’d grown too reliant on Declan’s stubborn tongue, always happy to put me in my place. Cam just relented.
His expression changed from forceful to longing as he gave me a regretful look up and down. It felt a whole lot like he was trying to memorize everything about me, even the smallest, most insignificant details. He was staring at me like it was the last time he’d ever see me.
“No rubber ducky shorts this time.” I could tell he tried to say it lightly, like a casual observation made by a friend, but there was a thickness in his voice that didn’t belong.
“It’s not a rubber ducky sort of day,” I replied solemnly. My bottom lip wobbled dangerously, and I had no defense to throw up when he came at me, wrapping his familiar body around mine.
I almost broke right then and there. It would’ve been easy to fall apart in Cam’s arms.
I could’ve forgotten all the silly mess of the past. I could’ve accepted the comfort he offered. I could’ve stayed with him forever, letting him take care of me, like he’d been trying to do all along. It would’ve been so easy to give in…
But the wrong things were always the easiest, and I’d been finding the strength to do otherwise for far too long to wave my white flag.
“You can’t keep doing this, Adley.” The comfort of his warm breath on my forehead was wholly misleading, a false promise of reassuring words that I wouldn’t let him speak.
He was wrong.
I was fatally flawed, doomed by the stubbornness of my convictions to make the same decisions over and over again.
I hadn’t moved, not an inch, my face still pressed into his soft t-shirt that sported the name of some indie band I’d never heard of, but he sensed the change. He dropped his arms and stepped away, resorting back to his demeanor of calm defeat.
I could see the part I’d played in every weary line of his face. There was a four year age difference between us, but he hadn’t looked a day over eighteen when we met. There had been youth in his smile and innocence in his joy. And then he’d met me.
A lifetime of sorrows hadn’t aged him like I had.
There wasn’t a thing I could do to erase the harm I’d done, the pain I’d inflicted by the cruelty of my love.
All I could do for him was leave.
When I stepped backwards out of his arms, my expression was strong, betraying none of the desperate weakness that clawed at my insides.
“Fine,” was all he said, resigned to my will. He reached behind him, dislodging a thick envelope from his back pocket and handed it to me.
It was heavy in my hand, and while it wasn’t addressed to anyone or marked with postage, three messy words were scrawled largely, nearly spacing the entire rectangular shape.
“Just read it”
I looked up at him questioningly. I’d seen his handwriting on enough grocery lists and battered notebooks to know the edgy slants didn’t belong to him.
He shrugged, with the slightest hitch sheepishly pulling at his lips, showing just a hint of one dimple.
“Declan asked me if he could give you this, and after some thought, I agreed…It’s time.”
The words weren’t strange. They made perfect sense, and I had no problem understanding them, but the way he said them niggled at the back of my mind. I stared down at the fat envelope, curiosity burning in my gut.
The envelope was almost too full to seal, but somehow, the task had been managed, closing off its mysterious contents from me with the barest amount of glue. I squeezed it once, feeling the paper bend against my touch easily, like a stack of letters had been folded inside.
I just knew that whatever I held in my hands was dangerous. I could sense its power – its im
portance. I had no idea what it could be, but I knew it was something that would change me.
It was too bad that I’d already accepted my fate and had no desire to alter the path I was headed down.
Ignorance really was bliss. After one last look, I tucked the envelope into my bag. I felt relief without it in my grip, like I’d just gotten rid of a grenade.
“I’m sorry,” one of us said. Later, I wouldn’t be able to remember which one of us voiced the emotion we both felt. And in the end, it didn’t matter anyways.
I left California in a blur, happy to be numbed from the overwhelming feeling that I’d just made a horrible mistake. But it was one I couldn’t stop myself from making.
And, maybe, that really was the worst the part of all.
Chapter Nineteen
Adley
Three Months Later
“You always do that,” my coworker commented. I hadn’t felt him watching me, but I wasn’t surprised. I caught him looking at me a lot.
I jerked my hand away from my mouth, destroying the evidence that backed up his observation. It was an unfortunate habit I’d picked up.
“Do what?” I asked, feigning ignorance, while my hands went back to work scanning the stack of returned library books in front of me. I knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Sometimes you get this real far off look in your eye, and you’ll always hold your fingers at the corner of your lips,” he continued to obliviously push the subject I could have not more obviously wanted to drop.
If it had been anyone other than Graham, I would’ve already snapped at them. Sweet, dim Graham, however, was just that clueless. Ever since we’d been assigned to the late afternoon shift, he’d been doing his damnedest to try and charm me.
He smiled sincerely, and I knew that there were quite a few girls on campus that would’ve killed for a guy like him to look at them in the same way. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you wanted to be kissed.”
I didn’t.
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