From The Wreckage - Complete (50 page)

Read From The Wreckage - Complete Online

Authors: Michele G Miller

BOOK: From The Wreckage - Complete
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“You’re going to go straight to her, aren’t you?” Dani asks.

“Am I that obvious?”

“You’re that in love. You’re that full of regret,” she points out, kicking his leg with the toe of her sneaker.

“Dr. Steel says I should stay away from her.” West shakes his head and sits up, sliding back to lean up against the wall. “Like this is some twelve step program and seeing her will make me relapse.”

“What do you think?”

“I think -” He stops. “I’m scared as hell of what she thinks of me. What if she hates me? What if she sees me and walks away? What if she believes what everyone else does?”

Dani sits up with a deep sigh and rests her back against the wall next to West.

“So, I ask again, what do you think?”

From the moment he walked away from Jules, after an argument with her family following the wreck and the proceeding legal issues, people had been trying to insinuate that what Jules and he had was nothing more than a fling. They made it seem as if their relationship was brought on by their shared grief and the traumatic events that occurred the night of the tornado. His family attributed the fact that he never dealt with the death of his mother properly to his feelings for Jules. Psychiatrists insinuated post-traumatic stress. 

“I don’t know anymore.” 

“B. S.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t give me your lame wishy-washy answers, West Rutledge. I’ve been there. Done that. Remember?”

Dani would know. She’s been in and out of treatment facilities all over for years, dealing with her own demons. She never fails to call him out on it, using the easy answer to get out of a tough question. Resigning himself to telling Dani the truth, he typically holds back, even from Dr. Steel, West edges off the bed and opens the lid of a nearby box. His room is half packed; his dad will arrive in the morning to bring him home for a few days before moving him to the house he will be sharing with Carson and Mindy closer to his new school. He pulls out a thick manila envelope and hands it to Dani. The name ‘Jules’ is scratched across it in black.

“I wrote to her,” he explains when her wide eyes register the weight of the envelope. “Every night. Sometimes twice a day. I wrote her songs, letters, and rambling explanations of what I was doing here. I told her about you, about the trees in the courtyard, the posters in the counseling room. So much crap, I’m almost embarrassed by it. Almost… but not.”

“Because you love her.”

He nods. “Because I love her.”

Dani bites her top lip and her eyes shine as she turns the envelope in her hands. 

“I have a favor to ask of you?” West picks up a book at the foot of the bed and drops it into the box as he speaks. “Will you hold onto those for me?”

“The letters! Why? You should give them to her. Mail them. This would show her where your heart lies, West. You could prove to her you did it all for her.”

“I want to win her back. I don’t want to show her all of that pain if I don’t have too. I want to get myself together, get started at school, and then go after her. Start fresh.”

“Do you doubt her feelings for you?”

He doesn’t waver. “Surprisingly, no.”

“I envy you,” Dani admits as she sets the letters next to her on the bed.

“Ha! You envy me? How many times have you called me out on my crap in the past few weeks? What is it you envy, exactly?” 

“All of it. You’ve never faltered when it comes to how you feel about Jules. Not really. You’ve tried to throw a bunch of ‘I don’t know’ and ‘what if it wasn’t real’ crap at me, but we both know that’s exactly what it was. Crap. You’re in love with her, and you’ve made it clear that you believe she was in love you. Most days I’m still struggling to believe I deserve to live, I envy you for knowing it.”

“Dani.” West tries not to speak too harshly as he pushes her legs over and sits on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t fully understand her struggle, but he doesn’t need to. 

“Sorry.” She shrugs.

“You know what? If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here. You’re going to figure it out, too.” He stops when her knee bumps into his back. Her turns around and sees the frown that has formed upon her face. 

“Why don’t I help you finish packing before we go down to dinner?” she asks, changing the subject.

They make quick work on the few things he keeps in his room and walk to dinner in silence. They sit at a round table in the cafeteria for the last time and complain about the lack of seasoning on the chicken, as usual. Dani picks at her roll, tearing small bites off and chewing them slowly as West studies her. She's too thin. Too fragile. He wonders how she's going to handle things after he leaves. He worries about her in the same way he would Mindy, or the sister he's never had.

They walk around the courtyard, under the shade of the large trees, and she grills him on football and his new school. She asks him what classes he might take first in the fall and about the new car he wants to buy. 

They finally return to his room before lights out so she can grab his envelope of letters and Dani cracks, pulling West close. 

“Win her back and live happily ever after for me. Okay?” she murmurs, her forehead pressing against his chest. It’s the closest physical contact they’ve ever shared. Her head leans on him and her hands grasp the sides of his shirt desperately. He rubs her thin upper arms slowly. 

“You can come to our wedding,” he teases, frowning to himself when she shakes her head. “Dani, I’ll call you with my new number the moment I have it. I promise. We can talk every day if you want. My leaving doesn’t mean we can’t stay in touch.”

“You don’t have to-”

West moves her a step back. “I want to. I’m probably gonna need your help, too. You know I’m a screw up when it comes to love.”

“You’re not anymore. You know what you want now. Only now you need to go and get it,” she insists with a winsome smile.

She leaves a few minutes later with his letters in her hand, and he falls onto his bed for his last night at Crestdale. Dani's right. As he falls asleep, he can't help but smile at the realization that he's no longer scared to find Jules and win her back. Two months. He'll take July and August to train and prepare for football, get his feet back under him, and then he'll contact Jules.

 

The following morning, as he drives away with his dad for the first time in seven months, he catches sight of Dani’s baggy clothes and black hair standing by a tree at the gate in the courtyard. He turns, keeping his eyes on her for as long as he can until she disappears as their car takes a corner. He left her a letter, too. It's at the front desk scheduled to be delivered to her later this afternoon. He hopes she'll read it and accept his words the way he accepted hers four weeks ago. He hopes that someday he will be able to introduce Jules to Dani. Introduce the two girls who’ve changed his life in such important ways. He vows he will see Dani again, outside of Crestdale, living the life she deserves to live, too.

“You’re smiling,” his dad remarks, his eyes flicking briefly from the road to West’s face. “Glad to be out of there, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad to have you back, too. So are your brothers, and Mindy. West…” 

His father’s voice is full of trepidation. They’ve had minimal meetings over the last few months. They’ve had family counseling sessions, but they’d all been when West was still in denial about his feelings. Once he decided he truly did need help, he’d asked that his father not be involved. It wasn’t personal; it was something he wanted to handle on his own as an adult. Grieving his mother, leaving Jules… those were things he needed to cope with on his own.

“Dad, don’t,” he interrupts before his father can apologize for things he doesn't need to apologize for. “You working out the deal to get me to Crestdale saved me. I needed to stop pushing everything and everyone away. I needed to deal with Mom and what happened to Jules. I needed to know it wasn’t my fault.”

“Son, I never once thought it was your fault. None of it.”

“I know that, but I thought it was. I blamed myself, and part of me will probably always come back to those moments and feed the little doubts in my head. If I hadn’t stayed at CVC, I don’t know when I would have dealt with it. I wasn’t trying to lock you out of my life when I asked to stay for this last month. I was trying to be the man you’ve always taught me to be.”

His father nods, quietly accepting West’s explanation. His face is drawn tight and his fingers grip the steering wheel as they drive towards Tyler and the life he’d left behind.

 

Jules

Alone in her dorm room, Jules throws on the shortest and tightest spandex mini she can find, along with a slashed up neon tee, and teases her ponytail as high and messy as she can. In the background, eighties music blares from her computer as she touches up the heavy eye make-up that completes her look. She grabs an armload of bangle bracelets and heads out, making her way to the first floor where her new friends are waiting. 

While most of her friends from high school are taking trips and enjoying their last summer of freedom, she’s been in school taking two of her core biology classes and wallowing in self-pity all summer. Leaving Tyler had seemed like such a great idea back in April when Dr. Morgan had suggested it. She’d thought maybe if Jules was to get away from all of the memories it would help her feel more confident in facing her future. So, she decided to enroll in the summer semester at A&M, and it’s been working… to a degree.

She’s spent most of the past eight weeks in seclusion in her empty dorm room or studying in the library. Her goal had been to be left alone. Goal accomplished, until tonight.

Two of the girls in her Biology II class had been begging her to hang out ever since they started their first track of bio in June. Now, after several weeks of backing out and making up excuses, she’s finally relented and agreed to go to a party in exchange for an all-night cram session before final exam. It seemed a good deal at the time, but as she rides the elevator down to the first floor of her building, she’s starting to question her decision.

“Jules!” Debbie, a short athletic girl with large brown eyes and a short pixie haircut, shouts as Jules steps off the elevator and into the common area. “We were wondering if we were going to have to come after you.” 

Jules glances at her phone. Eight-thirty. Right on time. She rolls her eyes and waves, making her way to the small group of costumed co-eds standing around outside of her classmates’ dorm. A few of the girls are already sipping from cups and Jules can’t help but glance around to be sure the R.A. isn’t lurking around to catch their underage drinking.

Always the good girl, Jules,
she sighs, as her brain mocks her.

When she’d agreed to go to ‘a party’ with Debbie and Lisa, she had no idea exactly who was throwing the party. As they drive off campus and into a nearby neighborhood filled with nearly identical houses all decorated with school colors and Greek letters, she starts to get the hint. They’re still three weeks from the official move-in day for fall semester, so she’s surprised there’s much going on on campus right now. But A&M isn’t Tyler, Texas. This isn’t backwoods bonfires and high school. Jules is about to get her first real taste of college life.

 

It was an interesting sight, all of the tacky eighties gear and crazy drunk co-eds wandering around the small box house with the neatly trimmed yard. Entering the house, she reminds herself of the plan:

Follow all the rules about college parties you’ve learned from countless on-line articles, your friends back home, and even Mom and Dad.
 

Number One: Don’t drink anything you didn’t pour or watch being poured. 

Number Two: Don’t put your cup down. 

Number Three: Don’t leave said party with a boy drunk. 

Number Four: Don’t leave said party with any boy.
(That one was her parents’.)

Debbie, Lisa, and the other girls don’t seem to subscribe to her strict list and she soon finds herself deserted, nursing a warm beer from the keg, and standing amongst a group of be-wigged, glam-rock wannabes when someone calls her name over the din.

“Jules?” 

She lifts her head as she searches for the owner of the vaguely familiar voice. Turning to her left, she spots someone heading her way. He is shirtless, wearing dog tags and faded jeans, and he is carrying a volleyball. Her jaw drops as she takes in Austin Rutledge. 

“Jules! There you are!” he bellows, practically diving to her side. His arm knocks her beer cup, causing it to spill, as he pulls her into his bare chest. His mouth presses snuggly against her ear and his breath is ridiculously hot as he speaks.

“Save me, please,” he implores as he takes her cup from her while his arm wraps around her lower back. She pulls back instinctively and his hand tugs her closer. “Jules, please work with me here.” 

She’s startled by his request. The last time she’d spoken to Austin he’d just delivered her heart a death blow by way of the ‘Dear John’ letter West left her. She’s tempted to pull back and slap him, but when a thick southern accent whines ‘Austin,' in three long distinct syllables, she has to cover a laugh at his predicament. 

Austin loosens his grip on her back and Jules laughs as she takes in the Madonna look-alike standing before her. The bleached blonde appears to be reenacting the ‘Like A Virgin’ video with her white lace bustier and mini. Her eyebrows are painted on thick and dark, and her eyelids are hidden by blue shimmering shadow. Jules imagines there must be a pretty girl underneath the layers of make-up, though it’s hard to tell. 

Austin nods at Madonna, tossing his volleyball prop into the air and catching it. “Sorry, hun. I’m taken tonight.” Jules tries to keep a blank face as Madonna pouts and sends her a look before she turns and starts flirting with Bruce Springsteen. 

Once Madonna is occupied elsewhere, Austin looks down at Jules for a few moments as she stands rooted to the floor with her teeth eating her bottom lip in agitation. Finally, he smiles, tugging her into his side and leading her away from the hair band groupies she’d been talking to. Without thinking, Jules follows him, shouldering out from under his arm the moment they reach the relative peace and quiet of the outside.

“What the -” she starts, taking several steps into the backyard before rounding on him. He keeps pace, and she practically runs into his chest when she turns. “- hell?” she finishes.

“Sorry.” His hand runs through his hair as he tucks the ball under his arm. “I saw you and I acted. I didn’t think… I needed to get away from that girl.”

“Seriously? No ‘Hi, Jules?’ No ‘How you been? What’s up?’ How about ‘Sorry I tore the rug out from underneath you and didn’t return your calls after the last time I saw you?’” she fumes, holding her hand up to his chest to stop him from coming closer as she steps back. “Instead, you see me at a party and automatically assume I’ll help keep you safe from your harem of hoes?”

It’s Austin’s turn to look stunned as Jules shakes her head, drops her cup to the ground, and bumps into his shoulder as she walks past him back into the house without another word. 

 

“I don’t have a harem of hoes.” Austin’s low whisper carries a note of humor to it as he sneaks up on her. 

She’d stayed clear of him for thirty minutes by talking to the hair band boys and dancing with her classmates. When she snuck into the dark corner to people watch and take a breath, she realizes she should have looked for him first. She didn’t, and now here he is beside her, his demeanor so similar to West’s that she has to close her eyes and swallow hard before she can look at him again.

“It was one girl, who seemed cool until she opened her mouth. I couldn’t get her to take no for an answer. So yes, I used you.” He leans against the wall, spinning the ball in his hand in front of his waist.

Taking a long sip of her new drink, she props her shoulder against the wall, too. She lets her eyes look at him then, honestly look at him, and she can see the remorse in his somber face.

His head dips down, his shoulders hunching forward, as he offers a simple and sincere, “I’m sorry.”

Her own head bobs of its own volition, in understanding, and her lips curl up in a small smile as she speaks.

“So you’re saying you’ve lost that loving feeling?” 

She tries not to laugh at her own joke. She bites her tongue, purses her lips, and even rolls her head the other way, but the look on Austin’s face is priceless and when he starts to laugh, the sound makes her heart leap. It’s deep and strong, like West’s, but happier and a little bubblier somehow. She sags against the wall laughing, her hand pressing to her stomach when it starts to ache. It’s been a long, long time since she’s had something truly funny to laugh at.

“Jules?” His serious voice freezes a giggle right on her lips. She wipes a tear of hilarity from her eye.

“Yeah?” 

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t want to give you that letter. He’s my brother, and I did it for him.”

She touches his forearm and he stops.

“Can we not talk about him?”

“But, I want -.”

She huffs, pushing off the wall. “No. Like you said, you did it for him. I’m sorry. My attitude was uncalled for. You don’t owe me an explanation Austin. Let’s just agree to not discuss him, okay?”

“Deal.”

Jules leans back against the wall next to Austin, her arm bumping into his as they watch the party around them in silence. She wants to ask about West. She wants to know how he is, where he’s been and if he’s even home yet. But she can’t. Asking would mean she is interested, and she’s spent the past seven months since he left trying to get over him. 

“Can I ask you to dance?” 

Jules allows herself to nod and puts her hand in his as they weave their way through the crowd and find a space large enough for their bodies to fit. They smile timidly at each other as they move to the synthesizer beat of an old Duran Duran song, and Jules is grateful for all of the eighties songs she’s listened to with her parents on road trips. She hums along to the catchy tune as they dance around in circles. No one in the room is dancing in a fashion that makes any sense. Instead, they are mimicking moves seen in old movies and television episodes. The dancing breaks the ice as Austin scrutinizes her face.

“What?” she finally asks when she catches him staring at her for the third time in one song.

“Nothing.”

She lifts her brow, and he shrugs. The tempo of their dancing begins to slow as the current song morphs into a slow rock beat and Jules finds herself standing there unsure of what to do next. Austin isn’t bothered one bit. Holding his volleyball between his hands, he lifts his arms and lassos her in the middle, pulling her closer to his chest. 

She stiffens as his volleyball pushes at her back pressing her closer to him before she relents and carefully wraps her hands around his neck. His bare skin is hot, and she feels somewhat awkward touching him this way.

“I’ve never slow danced with a volleyball before.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah, I guess I don’t need it.” He looks around and nods at something, releasing one arm from around her and tosses the ball behind her back. 

“You didn’t have to get rid of it.”

“Nah, I’d rather hold onto you than my ball.” 

Austin’s eyes widen at his own comment, and the silent pause that follows is rife with tension. Jules’ chest rises as she takes a deep breath, biting her tongue at the dirty joke she wants to blurt out while processing the meaning of his words.

“Let’s not make a joke about balls, okay?” He sighs with a shake of his head, and the dam is broken.

Throwing her head back, Jules falls into another fit of laughter at Austin Rutledge’s expense. When he offers her a ride home several hours later, she agrees. Debbie had left early with a guy Jules didn’t know and Lisa is sitting in a corner chatting and doesn’t look ready to leave anytime soon. 

When they walk out to his car, he pulls a tee shirt out and slips it on, much to Jules relief, and maybe a small amount of disappointment. Hot abs and strong muscles are nice to look at. Why does it matter if they belong to your ex’s brother?

“You know, Maverick, this scene really calls for a motorcycle.” Jules quips, thinking of his Top Gun inspired costume and the motorcycle Tom Cruise rides around on in the movie. “What happened to yours?” she asks, taking in his little blue sports car.

“Oh, I still have it. It’s at home. I don’t typically ride it to parties.”

“No? I guess it’s not the best vehicle to have when you're trying to bring home girls, huh?”

His eyes narrow at the way she says ‘girls,’ but he doesn’t rise to her bait. She wants to kick herself for insinuating that he is used to picking up girls and bringing them home. She’d meant it, and she wouldn’t deny it, but he’s been nice to her and she has no reason to be snarky with him. 

She pulls her door handle to get in the car and mumbles, “Sorry, I-.”

“Jules, don’t.” Austin interrupts her action. Leaning against the car with his elbows propped on the top, he stares at her across the vehicle. “I’m sure West told you enough about me to know that what you said was accurate. You’re right, a motorcycle isn’t the best way to get half drunk girls home from a party, but truth is I don’t bring it to parties because it’s been stolen more than once and I usually find it in some crazy spot on campus due to some idiots drunken prank.”

She hears his explanation, but all of her focus is on the one word he said that she wishes he hadn’t: West. It is too much for her at the moment, and she finds herself sinking against the car, pressing her body against the door and asking him the question she’s wanted to ask from the moment she first saw him.

“How is he?”

Silence looms between them as he looks at her. Austin’s features became sad as he counters her question with one of his own.

“How are you?” 

She doesn’t answer. He doesn’t ask again. They both slide into the vehicle and, with the exception of him asking where she lives and her telling him the name of her building, they don’t speak again. Austin drives onto campus, walks her to her building, and makes sure she gets inside safely. Then, he turns around and leaves. Jules returns to the solitude of her empty dorm.

 

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