“Big day at work today?” I asked, my voice too high, trying to act like everything was normal between us, as if we hadn’t shared that strange experience last night.
He gave me a look, indicating he thought I was acting weird. Well, I was. Frankly, I didn’t see how he could act so normal. “I’ll be filing, like I do every Saturday,” he said.
I nodded and stared into my cereal bowl. I switched tactics from shoving cereal in my mouth in order to avoid talking, to eating one corn flake at a time. If I took long enough, he’d have to leave for work before I left the breakfast table. I was such a chicken.
Keaton looked at his watch. “I have to be at work in forty minutes. Audrey, can we talk?”
I set my spoon down, straightening my spine. This was it. I couldn’t put it off for later. It wouldn’t be right. This was the moment, and I had to be strong enough for it. “Yes.”
He nodded, his eyes hopeful. “Want to go sit out back?” He tipped his head toward the glass doors leading out to our deck.
I walked outside on shaky legs, passing all the chairs to sit on the edge of the deck, my legs dangling. Keaton sat beside me.
He cleared his throat. “I’m kind of freaking out, Audrey.”
I was surprised by his honesty. He usually didn’t talk about his feelings. I turned to him, putting a hand on his forearm. “Me, too. I’m absolutely freaking out.”
He nodded, searching my eyes. “So, I’m going to be honest here. I can’t figure out how you’re feeling about last night. I feel sick over it, like maybe you didn’t like kissing me, when kissing you was everything I hoped it would be. I’m...I’m afraid I’m losing you.”
My heart opening wide, emotion spilling out, I said, “You’ll never lose me. It’s not possible.” I said it because it was true, and because it was a relief to hear him speak honestly about fears that mirrored my own, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake.
“Oh, thank God.” He put a hand on my cheek, his fingers threading in my hair. “I was so worried that you didn’t feel the same way.”
He applied a gentle pressure with his fingers, urging me forward. I almost let him. I could picture it—kissing him again, letting him hold me, letting this continue so everyone else would be happy. But a clenching ache in my chest had me pulling away.
His hand dropped, and I took my hand off his forearm and placed it in my lap. “I always want to be there for you, Keaton. I want us to hang out at the lake with our friends and go to the movies. I want you to come over for dinner with your family and I want to go to your house and talk about the books we read, and I want us to stay close. You will never lose me as your friend. But I don’t think I can be more than that.”
There. I’d said it, and I hadn’t fainted or caught on fire or tossed my cookies. I’d been gentle but forthright. I held my breath.
Keaton blinked rapidly. He turned away, sitting stiffly and staring across my backyard. I followed his gaze. There was the tree fort where he and I would hide from our sisters during water balloon fights. There was the badminton net—Keaton was terrible at badminton but he loved to play it, and let us laugh at him in good humor. Keaton was all over this yard, all over my life. As we sat on the deck, the words I said hanging between us, I could feel him slipping away.
After a long, long silence, the mood shifted. He looked back at me, his jaw firm. “I don’t think we should give up so easily.”
“Um…” I brushed my hair out of my face. “What do you mean?”
“You said you don’t think you can be more than my friend. Are you one hundred percent certain? Do you know for sure that’s what you want?”
“Well…” I didn’t mean to sound so unsure, but words weren’t coming to me quickly. I hadn’t expected him to pivot like this. I should have, because Keaton loved a good debate.
“Think about it,” he continued. “We get along great. We laugh all the time. We have fun, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“We have a lot of common interests, and we know everything about each other.”
I pressed my lips together. Keaton didn’t know everything about me. There were secret places inside me I hadn’t shared with anyone.
“Will you do something for me?” he asked, his eyes wide and determined, all traces of his earlier sadness gone.
Tears burned the backs of my eyelids. “What?”
He grabbed my hand, squeezing my fingers tightly. “Will you take some time to think about it? Will you not shut the door on this possibility? Please don’t write me off; just think about it for a while.”
“I’m not writing you off.” My voice was a thin strand, and my words floated away on a breeze instead of landing where I’d intended them to—in his heart.
We stared at each other.
“Please, Audrey.”
“I don’t know if time will change anything.”
He smiled. “You did it again. You said you didn’t know. All I’m asking is that you think about it.”
Was he right? Would I change my mind if I thought about it? I’d made my choice last night, but sitting here with him right beside me, it was hard to think clearly.
I had the unsettling feeling that he wasn’t listening to me. I didn’t feel heard. I felt like he was brushing off my feelings. But thinking about it wasn’t so bad, was it? Would taking a little time hurt anything? “I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
His smile widened. “So you’ll think about it?”
“Keaton, I want you to understand that no matter what happens, you’ll never lose me from your life.”
I waited, holding my breath, hoping he would say the same thing. I wanted him to reassure me that he would always be my friend, even if I couldn’t love him the way he wanted me to. He didn’t. He only squeezed my hand one more time and hopped off the deck. “I have to get to work, but we’ll talk later.”
“Okay.”
He grinned. “Bye, Audrey.”
I watched as he hurried around the house, wondering what on earth had just happened.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, hair freshly combed and wearing a cotton dress, I slid hoops in my ears as Mama peeked around my half-open door. I waved her in. She held out a manila file. “Can you take this to your dad?”
Thankful to have a task to occupy me, I said, “Sure.”
She sat beside me on the bed and ran a hand down my hair. “Is everything okay with Keaton?”
Should I tell her? Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I would even say. I hated the thought that I could disappoint her. I blinked, tears gathering on my lashes.
She grabbed my upper arms, concern wrinkling her brow. “Audrey, what is it? You’re scaring me.”
“Oh, no, don’t be scared. It’s just...Keaton kissed me last night,” I blurted.
She watched me a moment, and her care and concern was my undoing. I leaned into her, resting my head on her chest like I had when I was a little girl, and I cried.
She cradled my head and ran her hand up and down my back, soothing me.
“I can’t love him, Mama,” I said in between sobs. “I’ve tried. But no matter what I do, I can’t make it happen.”
“Oh, Darling.”
I lifted my eyes to hers, and to my surprise, I didn’t see disappointment there. I only saw the warm love that she always directed my way. This was what it was to be listened to. This was being heard.
She placed a hand on the side of my face. “Audrey.” She clucked her tongue and sighed. “Have you been holding this inside?”
“I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Darling, you could never disappoint me.”
“But you and Dianne have talked about the flowers at our wedding.”
Mama pulled me against her again, wrapping her arms around me. “Goodness. Dianne and I like to make up stories, don’t we? It’s fun to imagine things, but I never knew you felt such pressure because of us. I thought you liked Keaton.”
“I d
o like Keaton.” I pulled out of her grasp and stared at my lap. “But not that way.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“Yes. He wants me to think about it.”
Her eyebrows raised slightly. “Do you want to think about it?”
I fiddled with the ends of my hair. “What if he’s the only guy who ever wants me?”
She snorted. “That’s ridiculous. You’ll have many, many men interested in you.”
“Well, what if he’s the best guy in the world, and I lose him because I’m holding out for butterflies?”
She smiled softly at me, holding my chin between her thumb and forefinger. “There’s no such thing as the best guy in the world. There’s only the best guy in the world for you. Keaton might not be yours, and that’s okay. And listen closely to this next part.” She waited until I looked at her. “Butterflies are worth holding out for.”
I walked down the sidewalk feeling much lighter, the manila folder swinging at my side. Mama’s reassurance had gone a long way toward making me feel stronger. It had been much easier to tell her about Keaton than I thought it would be. I couldn’t believe she wasn’t upset about it. I cursed my overactive imagination and lack of courage, and the suffering both caused me. I was going to do some things differently now. I’d had two hard conversations in one morning, and I had survived. I hardly recognized myself.
I loved walking to my father’s office. It was cooler than yesterday, and downtown was bustling. I passed the playground where several children played and mothers chatted on benches. I stopped for a moment outside Betsy’s Dress Shop and looked at the new display. There was a purple sundress I would love to try on.
A strange impulse overcame me when I reached the intersection with Rose Avenue. I stared at the green street sign. Did I dare? Heart pounding, I turned right.
I walked slowly for two blocks, stopping when I reached Helton’s Auto Repair. I scanned the large parking lot, my eyes passing over sedans and minivans, stopping when they landed on a black motorcycle. I stared at the seat where I would have sat if I’d said yes. What was I doing? I bit my lip and looked away, speeding up as I passed the shop.
“Audrey, wait,” a deep voice called out behind me.
I turned, and there was Johnny Bright, dressed in grease smudged jeans and a black T-shirt, wiping his hands on a red rag. He stopped a few feet in front of me. “Hi,” he said.
“Hello,” I said, barely able to hear my own voice because of the way my blood was rushing loudly in my ears.
He watched me with a serious expression, the corners of his mouth turned down. “You okay after last night?”
I nodded. He held my eyes with his, and though I considered that I should look away and stop staring at him, I couldn’t seem to do it. I didn’t want to.
“Good.”
He had such beautiful eyes. Dark, but there was a little gold in the center I hadn’t noticed before. I’d always been too scared to look at him full-on. I was scared now, but I still couldn’t look away. His eyebrows were dark slashes, pulled low. My eyes traveled higher. He had a smudge of black dirt on his forehead. Higher. I’d always thought his hair was black, but in the late morning sunlight, I could see it was dark brown. I looked back at his eyes.
He was staring at me, too.
I don’t know what compelled me to ask. I don’t know where I found the confidence. But my mouth formed the question I’d been thinking about since last night. “Would you have really done it?”
“Done what?”
“Given me a ride on your motorcycle.”
He frowned. “Of course I would have.”
“Why?”
He studied me a moment before speaking. “You looked like you needed an escape.”
A strange disappointment coursed through me. That made sense. He would have offered that ride to any girl, if they looked to be in distress. I hadn’t realized it until that moment, but a secret part of me had been hoping he’d wanted me on the back of his motorcycle. Me. Not just some girl who needed a ride. But of course Johnny wouldn’t be thinking of me. I was surprised a guy like him even knew my name.
I licked my lips and held the folder in front of my chest, as if blocking my heart from feeling anything. “Well, thank you. It was kind of you to stop and see if I was okay.”
He nodded, his eyebrows pulled low again.
“Goodbye, Johnny. Have a great day.” I turned and hurried away.
Chapter 4
Johnny
I grunted as I turned the wrench, but the bolt was immovable. I let my arm fall, and relaxed my muscles, my head resting against the pad of the rolling creeper. I looked at the undercarriage of the ancient family sedan and sighed. Frustration was the theme of the day.
I’d slept late, apparently having forgotten to set my alarm. I hadn’t awakened until nine when Mom turned the volume up on her old record player as she made scrambled eggs. I’d scared her half to death when I flew out of my room shouting about being late.
My stomach grumbled all morning because I hadn’t taken time to eat in my rush to get out the door. Mr. Helton didn’t yell at me for being over an hour late. What he did was worse. As I took off my helmet and climbed off my bike, I saw him standing in the doorway with a hand on his hip. He shook his head and looked away, the disappointment broadcasting loudly from his eyes, and didn’t say a word to me about it.
Then there was Audrey. I’d been organizing my tools after finishing a job when I saw her walk by. I hadn’t been able to stop myself from going to her. We hadn’t said much, but something went wrong in our short interaction, and I couldn’t figure out what. I played it over and over in my head, searching for what I’d said wrong.
Frustrated, I grabbed the wrench and tried again. I wished she’d said more and stayed longer. I wanted her to explain why she looked disappointed with my answer. What had she wanted me to say?
I didn’t know much about Audrey, but I knew she hid a fiery, sensitive heart underneath her carefully manicured exterior. Most people seemed to think she was quiet and polished, that she never got angry, and that she always kept a level head. To my utter captivation, I knew better. I’d had the great fortune to find myself in her presence a few times when she didn’t know I was watching. In some ways, it paid to be invisible in this town.
I’d seen Audrey sparring with her sisters many times over the years. She was as honest and fearless with them as a person could be, never ceding her point if she was passionate about it. In her argument with Keaton at the restaurant last night, I begged that Audrey to come out, but she kept that part of herself locked up tight. That told me a lot about her relationship with Keaton.
I’d only seen her angry once. Several years back, when we were both in middle school, I watched transfixed from the bleachers as she stormed out the back door of the school building. She held a paper, and she shook it at the sky and yelled something I couldn’t make out. Her face was red, but she wasn’t crying. She was seething. She ripped the paper in half and threw it into the air. When the pieces fluttered peacefully to the ground, she growled and stomped on them. It had been sort of a relief to see her that way. It made me feel like my own inner rage wasn’t such a curse—that maybe everyone felt that way sometimes.
I’d also seen her relaxed and unguarded. Last summer, I saw her wading in the creek that runs through the park downtown. I’d have felt like a creeper, watching her like that, except I was there first. I was on my lunch break from the shop. I’d just recently started working there and frankly, it was overwhelming. There was so much to learn and I was exhausted at the end of each day. I wanted an hour to myself before going back to distributor caps and oil changes.
I watched as she picked up a crawdad and spoke to it. She carried it on her palm as she moved upstream, the water swirling around her ankles, and she sang. I recognized the song as Yesterday by The Beatles. Her voice was clear and sweet, and the sound went straight to my gut. She laughed when the song was done, and lifted the crawdad to eye l
evel. “Did you like that song?” she said to him, before petting his back and setting him gently in the water. From that day on, I’ve wanted to get to know her better, hoping she’d give me a chance.
So today, when she asked me those questions and I saw that fire in her eyes directed at me—the first time I had a chance to talk to her—I blew it. I wasn’t sure how, but I did. I’d said, “You looked like you needed an escape,” and her face had fallen and the flames in her eyes died, and she walked away.
I’d spent the last hour parsing it, but was no closer to figuring out where I’d gone wrong. My phone rang, and I dug it out of my pocket, staying under the shelter of the car. “Yeah?”
“Johnny, it’s Clay. I hate to ask, but do you have three hundred bucks I can borrow? I’ll pay you back when I get paid next Friday.”
I ran a hand over my face and bit back the words I wanted to say. The only time Clay asked to borrow money was when Adam was in trouble. It had been less than twelve hours since I last saw Adam. How could he be in trouble already? “What happened?”
He was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t want to say.”
I clenched my jaw. “Clay, I’ll give you the money but you have to tell me what it’s for.”
“I don’t want to implicate you.”
I laughed. “I’m loaning a friend some cash. You don’t need to worry about getting me in trouble.”
Clay sighed loudly. “I found a bag of weed in Adam’s pants.”
“So?”
“It’s a...large bag. And it’s portioned out for selling.”
I clenched my jaw, muttering a curse.
“I think Rick is trying to get Adam to sell for him,” Clay said. “He’s testing him.”
“So you need the money for Adam to give to Rick so he can act like he sold it.”
“Pretty much. It’s my only idea.”
“Basically I’d be buying a huge bag of weed.”
“No, I’ll pay you back. I’m buying it, I guess.”
I laughed again, because this whole thing was ridiculous. “You can’t keep buying up all the stock Rick gives to Adam. What’s your long term plan?”
Broken Rebel (Sparrow Sisters Book 2) Page 3