Blindness (40 page)

I spend the first 30 minutes watching the
clock and spreading out my books and papers, pretending to soak
them in, though I’m really only staring at them until the words
blur together.

I’ll be lucky to scrape by with a
D
on
my final exam—and that’s fine. I’ll get a
C
overall, and
that’s enough. I quit caring about my grades the second I got that
phone call from Caroline, the moment I went eye-to-eye with Mac’s
killer, the instant Cody’s tires sped away from me.

Without even thinking, I push the
send
button, and I realize I’ve been staring at my message to Cody all
this time. I just sent it—like floating a feather in the wind and
hoping it gets noticed.

I’m worried. I love you. Please talk to
me.

The rest of the study session passes, and I
learn nothing. Cody never returns my message either. I’m frantic by
the time I get back to my car, and I toss my backpack into my
backseat and speed down the highway—right to the driveway for his
shop.

The
Jake’s
sign is gone, only an empty
pole standing against the gray sky. The windows are all boarded,
and the tires once chained to the side of the shop are gone. I
drive all the way in, holding my breath. He has to be here; there’s
nowhere else for him to go. This…
this…
is Cody’s home.

I see one of the bay doors open when I reach
the building. Bolt cutters are on the ground in front, and the
broken lock next to it. Cody’s truck is pulled in, and the door is
only rolled halfway up.

I’m slow and quiet getting out of my car, not
wanting to scare him. I wait outside the door for a few minutes,
just listening. Gabe’s talking to him, asking him about tools,
books and receipts, but I don’t hear Cody’s voice at first. I know
he’s in there; I can hear the shuffling of at least two pairs of
feet.

“Codes, I don’t know what any of this stuff
is. Either you’re going to have to look at it, or we should just
take it all,” Gabe says.

“We can’t take it all. Someone will notice,”
Cody says, and his voice halts my breathing. I knew I would see him
again, knew I would find him. But I still had doubt, and I was
terrified that the last words he said to me would be it—all I would
remember.

I’m on the verge of a panic attack standing
feet away from him, around the corner. My mouth is watery, and my
body is shaking. Despite the 30-degree temperature outside, I’m
covered in sweat. I need to go in, but I can’t seem to get my feet
to carry me.

With eyes closed, I breathe in deeply and
grip the cement wall next to me and follow it around the corner,
ducking just enough to clear the door. I can tell I’m inside—the
voices sound different, and the floor beneath me is slick. The
smell of oil is still in the air, and I know if I just keep my eyes
closed, I’ll picture everything just as it was.

I open them anyway, though, and the reality
slams me in the chest. The walls are bare, the cars are gone, and
most of Cody’s boxes have disappeared. It’s devastating—his entire
worth, his entire being, erased in a blink.

I can’t help the words that escape me softly.
“Oh my god,” I squeak, covering my mouth with my hand, and flashing
to Gabe and Cody. They both drop the books that are in their hands
and turn to face me, startled at first. Gabe’s expression quickly
changes—at first happy to see me and then nervous, his lips tight
and his eyes shifting to Cody.

Cody’s body language is obvious. His arms
fold in front of him, and his eyes look down at his feet, his jaw
flexing with the gnashing of his teeth. He’s angry, but he’s also
broken and lost. I recognize it—I’ve worn it.

“Charlie…” Cody starts, shaking his head from
side-to-side, his eyes not moving from his feet. His shoulders
fall, but he never picks his head up. “What are you doing
here?”

It stabs my insides when he speaks. How could
I be anywhere else? Why would he think this isn’t exactly where I
want—where I
need
to be?

“I sent you a text,” I say, my lips dry, and
my mouth sticky as I talk. “You...never wrote back.”

“Yeah, uh…I’ve been kinda busy?” he says,
holding his hands out to the side, pointing to the ruins left
around him.

“I want to help,” I say, taking a step
forward. But Cody raises his head, and his eyes pierce me when they
meet mine. He doesn’t want me here, and I can tell there are things
he wants to say simmering under his surface.

“Just go home, Charlie,” he says, turning
away from me.

“I don’t have one,” I shoot back, my voice
breaking when I speak.

“Yeah, well…whose fault is that,” Cody says,
his words making me wince. My eyes are stinging, and I’m barely
holding on. Gabe smacks Cody on the arm, and I can see him mouth
something to him, but Cody just shakes his head and continues
pulling binders out of boxes on the work table.

“You’re not being fair. You don’t
understand…” I start, my words coming out stronger this time.

Cody drops the binder back in the box and
slaps his hands flat on the table before he turns around and walks
at me deliberately, stopping only inches away from my face. His
breath smells of whiskey, but he’s not drunk. His eyes are tired
and heavy—the blue duller, and the whites red. I want to reach for
him, but I know it will only make him run, so I keep my hands at my
sides, running my fingers along the seams of my jeans, picking at
the threads.

“Tell me what’s fair, Charlie. Tell me!
Because I’d love to know! I’d love to know how you fall in love
with someone, and then they sell you out to your goddamned enemy!”
he says forcefully, pursing his lips and sucking in his top one
like it’s the only thing preventing him from saying something more,
something he’ll regret even more.

“It was Jim, Cody! Trevor found out, said it
was his plan all along,” I start, but Cody interrupts me.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that…buying time, lining up
his investor, blah blah. Trevor called me yesterday,” Cody
says.

The news of Trevor’s call catches me off
guard, and I squint, looking down, trying to understand how and
when. And why he would talk to Trevor and not me. “Trevor called?”
I say, my bravado gone.

“Yeah…Trevor called,” he says over his
shoulder, going back to work and almost ignoring me completely.

Minutes go by, and Cody busies himself, never
coming back to me, not as much as looking in my direction. I look
at Gabe, who’s sitting with his feet dangling from the edge of the
worktable. He shakes his head
no
and shrugs, not able to
help. My stomach is twitching with nerves, and soon the frustration
builds inside me to the point of explosion. I reach down and grab a
wrench from one of the toolboxes and throw it at the back wall with
every bit of force in my body, in Cody’s view, and it leaves a dent
in its wake.

“Fuck, Charlie!? What the hell?” Cody says,
charging back over to me.

“You won’t listen!” I scream, reaching down
and picking up a hammer. I tilt my arm, ready to throw, but Cody
grips my elbow and works the tool from my hand. I jerk my arm
away—even though all I want in this world is for him to leave his
hand on me—and take several steps back, showing him how hurt I
am.

“Fine, I’m listening,” he says, dropping the
tool back in its box and folding his arms again, defensively.

“I saw Jim, Cody. The day after you and
I…after the first time,” I half whisper, raising my eyebrows, aware
that Gabe is hearing everything we say. “He knew. I don’t know how,
but he knew. And he told me that if I broke it off with Trevor,
that he’d do something…to you!”

Cody breathes slowly through his nose, his
eyes holding me hostage. He’s chewing at the inside of his cheek,
not blinking, but staring. I’m desperate to know what he’s
thinking, to hear his voice again, to touch him, so I move toward
him. But he only takes a step back and lowers his brow.

“You tell me this…now? You just thought
you’d, what? Chance it? Or maybe you just didn’t give a shit if I
lost the shop, just as long as you had a good time. Just as long as
you had an out from your fake-ass relationship?” The words barely
leave his mouth before I slap him, and I want to take it back the
moment I do. But Cody is quick to move away.

“Cody, I’m sor…” I start.

“Just stop, Charlie,” he says, holding his
hand flat in the air. “Just stop this
thing
you’re trying to
do. There’s nothing here anymore.”

“But…I chose you, Cody! That’s why I was
afraid…because of Jim. But I chose you—I chose you
anyway,”
I’m crying now.

Cody stares at me; the silence is smothering.
“But you didn’t really give me a choice, did you? You chose for me,
Charlie. You chose…
for me.”

He smacks his hand flat against his chest as
he speaks, just to punctuate the words—drive home his point. My
heart burns, and I’m sure everything left inside me that was
beautiful and good just died right here in Jake’s old garage. All I
can see is Cody’s back as he walks away, his fingers threaded
together behind his neck, and his knuckles cracking. I hear the
office door slam shut, and as soon as he’s out of view, I break
down completely, not even trying to temper the whimpers that are
escaping my lips.

Gabe’s arms are around me within seconds, and
I grip the fabric of his sweatshirt and bury my face under his
chin.

“Girly…he didn’t mean it. He’s just torn up.
He’s lost,” Gabe says, but I can’t get past what Cody said. I
didn’t let him choose. And if I did, he wouldn’t have chosen
me.

“Yes…yes, he did,” I say, holding on to that
single percent of myself that still believes—Mac’s faint voice
telling me to fight, telling me to battle.

Gabe pulls away from me, holding me on either
shoulder and forcing me to look at him. “No, he didn’t,” he says,
waiting until I nod in understanding. He pulls his phone from his
pocket and dials, and I’m relieved to hear his conversation.

“Our girl needs a home. You okay with
company?” he says, his mouth a half-smirk as he speaks, and his
eyes locked on mine like he’s afraid to look away, afraid that I’ll
fall apart if he does.

“Yeah, you got it. I’ll tell her,” he says,
hanging up and tucking his phone into the back pocket of his
jeans.

“Jessie says you have to pick up dinner.
She’s not cooking,” he says, his smile soft and understanding. I’m
stuck looking at him, stuck in this moment, even though I know
staying will only make it worse. “Go on. He’ll be a’right. I’ve got
him, Charlie. It’s my turn to take care of Cody, okay? I won’t
fail—I promise.”

And I know he won’t. I pull my keys from my
front pocket and shuffle back out into the cold to my car. I’m not
sure if I’ve run stoplights or blown stop signs, I’m so distracted
during my drive. I do manage to remember to pull through a
drive-thru for burgers before I get to Jessie and Gabe’s house.

Their place is small, and it’s on a street
tucked behind an industrial part of town. The train whistle is
familiar; it reminds me of Mac’s house, and I stop to listen to it
before I knock on the blue door of the tiny white house. Jessie
welcomes me in, telling me to hurry before the food gets cold, and
we eat in front of the TV.

She doesn’t waste any time when dinner’s
done, unfolding the sofa and converting it to a bed, tossing
flannel blankets on top and pulling a pillow from a small trunk
that doubles as a coffee table.

“The train comes every hour. You get used to
it,” she says, her lips tight in a flat smile. She’s purposely not
talking about him, instead pretending
this
is
normal
,
like it was part of our plan—something we would have done if Cody
never existed. And I love her for it.

We shut the lights out by eight, and I know
there’s no way Jessie is falling asleep. But she pretends. I lay
awake for hours, counting the train six times before I hear the
door slide open quietly and watch Gabe empty his pockets on the
kitchen counter. He slips his sweatshirt over his head, drops it to
the floor, and pulls his shoes from his feet to leave them by the
door. He’s tiptoeing along the back of the sofa around me when I
whisper.

“Thank you, Gabe,” I say. My thanks for far
more than the pillow under my head, and he knows what I mean. He
bends down and presses his lips on my forehead, pulling my blanket
up on my body and tucking it along my back. His bedroom door closes
seconds later.

The train whistles five more times before the
sun rises, and I never shut my eyes.

Chapter
20: The Prettiest of Pictures

“Seriously, I don’t even know why you’re
looking at apartments. You can stay with us next semester. We don’t
mind,” Jessie says as she walks around the tiny apartment, the
sixth one we’ve looked at today.

I don’t mind this one. The kitchen is nice,
and it’s exactly halfway between school and my internship, which I
plan to extend now that I’m no longer leaving for Washington.

“You and Gabe need your space,” I say,
lifting one side of my mouth in a half grin. “Besides, the couch?
Yeah, that’s shit to sleep on.”

Jessie laughs a little, and finally nods.

“Yeah, I know. But you’ve only been there for
a week, and I’ve kinda gotten used to you…you know? Being, like…my
roommate?” she’s kicking the floor while she talks, and it’s funny
to see a girl whose wearing studs around her wrists turn shy.

“I know what you mean,” I smile back. “Hey,
though…now you can come over here, especially when Gabe is driving
you nuts!”

She laughs at that and heads back into the
bedroom to look around a little more. I’m pretty settled on this
place, and I know I can afford the rent on what’s left in my bank
account and the small stipend I make at my internship.