Him (20 page)

"But I love him."

"Sarah, I am sure you are a nice girl, but William deserves better. Someone who has been brought up the same way as him."

"He doesn’t care about any of that
." I'm frantic.

"Maybe
. But he does care a great deal of what his mother and father think. Which is why we have invited Jessica Burton to come with us to Italy."

"Why?" I just don’t understand.

"Sarah, let me make this clear. You are not the type of girl William needs in his life. If you continue this, whatever it is, with William, we won't pay for his college. Is that what you want?"

"Please...
no."

The line
is dead. She hung up on me. I stare at the phone in my hand. What just happened? Could they really refuse to pay for his school? That would kill him. And that stuff about Jessica. It’s true. She’s going with them to Italy. I set the house phone down on the kitchen table and slump into a chair. This is not happening. This cannot be happening. All I want to do is crawl back into my bed and never come out of it again, but I also feel this overwhelming need to get as far away from Decatur as I can. I cannot see Will. At worst, he’s dumping me for Jessica, and at best, we can’t be together anyway because his parents won’t pay for his school.

Something across the room catches my eye. It's a picture
on the refrigerator of my uncle Chip sitting on his motorcycle. I just figured out a place to go to. I quietly make my way upstairs to my room and pack everything I can into my backpack, and an old duffle bag. I really hope Brian will forgive me someday for what I'm about to do. I load my stuff into his piece of shit Ford Escort and grab the envelope from a birthday card my uncle sent me. I hope he meant it when he said I’m always welcome. I write my parents a note and leave it on my bed so they won’t worry, with a P.S. at the end to Brian to apologize for stealing his car.

I leave Brian's car parked a
t the train station. I lock the keys in it, but my mom has a spare set so he should be fine. I'm pretty sure my uncle lives near Trenton, so I buy my ticket and wait for my train. The wait isn’t long, which is good because I have been staring at the front entrance for the past hour, expecting my parents to walk in. The one thing going for me is that they probably don’t even know I came home last night and won't be missing me for another couple of hours. By that time, I will be well on my way to New Jersey. The train is half full, but more passengers board than depart every stop we make. I purposely pick a seat near the bathroom so I won’t have to worry too much about my duffle.

The seat next to me is empty, thankfully. An older woman across the aisle trie
s to small talk with me, but I pretend to sleep so she'll leave me alone. I'm feeling strangely like none of this is real, like I haven’t just run away from home. Like last night never happened, and I’m going to wake up at home in my own bed and things with Will will be the same. Somewhere in Virginia, I get up and visit the dining cart, unable to avoid my grumbling stomach any longer. I get a sandwich, some chips, and a juice. Back at my seat, I struggle to get it all down. I was so hungry before, but now that I have food right in front of me, I can't seem to eat it. Everything makes me think of Will. If he was here, he would be hogging all my chips and trying to steal my pickle.

The only reason I manage to finish my lunch is
because concentrating on eating is somehow keeping me from crying. The train is fuller now, and I know in the next stop or so I may lose the empty seat beside me. I relax after the stop in D.C. when enough passengers get off that I think I might make it the whole way without having to sit next to someone. Instead, in Baltimore, I meet Sawyer, which seems like a strange name for a girl, but it suits her. She's my age, or maybe a year older by my guess, and also heading to Trenton. I haven’t told her that's where I'm going because I haven’t been able to get a word in edgewise other than my name.

I feel like I'm grayscale sitting next to her. She seems almost Technicolor with her cotton candy toned streaks peeking out underneath her white blonde hair to her facial piercings and half sleeve tattoo on her left shoulder. It's cool on the train
, and I wonder if she's cold in her black tank top with the giant Rolling Stones mouth on it and cut-off jean shorts. There is so much going on with her I'm not sure where to look. She's compact too, maybe three inches shorter than me and skinny. I bet she could skip a meal if she was heartbroken. She talks with her entire body, tapping her foot, wildly gesturing with her hands, tilting her head from side to side.

I start to wonder if she's high or naturally hyper. She seems to have no fear talking to me, or anyone sitting near us. She
’s moving to Trenton to live with an ex-boyfriend because she caught her current boyfriend, well now ex, getting head from their neighbor. The ex she’s going to live with only offered her a place so he would have a chance to get in her pants again. She shrugs when she says that, almost saying she wouldn’t mind that either. As she talks about what a royal ass her current ex is, I stare at her tattoo. It’s on the shoulder farther away from me, and I can only see half of it. She catches my eye and turns so I can get a better look at it. It’s an elaborate blue-feathered bird, its wings on fire.

"It’s a phoenix
," she says, looking down at it, her right hand raised to trace its outline with her fingertip.

"Beautiful
," I say. "Did it hurt?" I've always thought about getting one.

"It hurt in some places
." She points to a section on the underside of her arm. "Mainly it felt like rough rubbing, if that makes any sense. Not like getting a shot at the doctor. You scared of needles?"

"I wouldn’t say I'm scared of them
, but I don’t like them," I admit.

We continue like this until we have to get off and switch trains in Philadelphia. I crack up when she seems surprised I get on the same train as her. I still ha
ven’t told Sawyer I’m going to Trenton too. When I show her my ticket, she beams and insists that we hang out once we both get settled.

I m
ust have fallen asleep at some point because Sawyer shakes me awake when reach Trenton. It's three o'clock in the morning, and she offers to let me crash on her ex's couch so I can try and figure out where my uncle lives in the morning.

She just has to clear it with her ex, Jake. He is waiting in the station for her
, and she runs to him and jumps into his arms. He's tall and muscular, with shaggy brown hair that reminds me of Will. He's awake enough to pick her up and spin her around. I predict make up sex in their future. When Jake sets her down, Sawyer pulls him over to me and clears the whole couch crashing plan. He nods to me in greeting and asks Sawyer where she's sleeping if I'm on the couch.

"I'm sure I can find someplace
," she says, winking at him.

He grins and pulls her suitcase with one hand and carries my duffle in his other. He drives a beat up, single
bed truck. After tossing our bags in the back, we climb in, Sawyer sitting in the middle.

During t
he drive over Jake looks over at me. "Are you in trouble or something?"

"Huh?" I'm tired
, so I'm not sure what he's asking.

"Why doesn’t your uncle know you're coming?"

I sigh. "I haven’t told anyone."

"So
," Jake continues, "are you in trouble?"

"Like with the law? No
. With my parent's for taking off probably and my brother. I kinda took his car without asking, but I left it at the train station so—"

"How old are you?" Sawyer squints at me.

"I'm eighteen, so relax. I just had to get away."

"Why?" Sawyer rubs my arm.

I look at the side window, blinking away tears. "Um, that's a long story."

"We got time
, Yoda." She gestures at my Star Wars t-shirt.

The story d
oesn’t take as long as I thought it would. By the time we are at Jake's apartment, I've told them all about Will, Jessica, and what his mom said. I start crying about halfway through and am now hiccupping as I get out of the truck. Sawyer walks beside me, rubbing my back as Jake grabs our bags from his truck.

Jake drops my duffle and backpack next to an ancient looking sofa in his living room. Sawyer digs through her bags in search of tea to make me a cup. She says it will help
. My throat feels like I gargled sandpaper after talking while crying so tea sounds nice. I settle down on the sofa and wait while she microwaves water. Jake is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, probably wishing Sawyer was not occupied with me. The sofa is soft but kinda smells like feet, so I pull out a hoodie from my bag to sleep in. I'll wait until Jake and Sawyer go to bed to put it on. I don’t want to offend Jake, but I also don’t want my hair to smell like feet when I wake up.

Sawyer brings me my tea
, and I tell her and Jake I'm fine and to go ahead to go to bed. Jake must not be scared I'll steal any of his stuff because he does just that. Sawyer lingers a moment or two longer before following him. I pull out my iPod to drown out the sounds of their getting reacquainted. I fall asleep listening to an audiobook of the first Harry Potter book. It’s narrated by an English man, and I love his accent. I’m three quarters in when a patch of light from Jake's sliding door to his balcony wakes me up. I quietly freshen up as best I can in Jake’s bathroom. It feels good to change into clean clothes even if I didn’t take a shower.

Since I d
on’t have a phone to call a cab, I decide to wait for Sawyer to get up to see if I can use hers. Jake comes out of the room first, in just his boxer shorts. He must have forgotten I stayed the night because his eyes widen, and he darts back into his room when he sees me sitting on his sofa. Sawyer comes out next, grinning and stretching. She’s wearing a strapless sundress, Jake follows her shortly, in jeans and a t-shirt this time. When I ask if I can borrow a phone to call a cab, Jake asks to see my uncle’s address.

"This isn’t far
." he glances at Sawyer. She raises her eyebrows at him. "We can give you a lift."

I relax into the sofa
. "That'd be great. Thank you."

"Did you want to call your folk
s? Maybe get your uncle's number and make sure he's home first?"

I groan, instantly tense again
. Time to face the music.

Chapter 21

Present

"She wouldn’t
. She—"

I turn and glare at Will
. "You believe whatever you want, Will. You asked why I left, and I told you."

I turn to head back inside
, but he grabs my arm, stopping me. He's behind me. I turn slowly to face him. His lips are on mine before I know what's happened. It’s like no time has passed. My body is still his. Will's arms grip my waist while I wrap my arms around his neck. He tastes like rum and cinnamon. I want to consume him. When he breaks our kiss, we each take a step back to catch our breath.

"You can't just kiss me
," I pant.

He ignores me
. "You didn’t leave because you didn’t love me?"

I sha
ke my head. How could he ever think I didn’t love him? Will sinks into one of the chairs and puts his head in his hands, his breath ragged. I sit in the chair next to him, unsure of what to do. I gasp when I see tears in his eyes and move to wipe them away.

"I've loved you and only you
, Sarah, for the last seven years. When you left, you broke my heart."

"I didn’t know
. I thought I was doing the right thing. That you didn’t love me as much as I loved you."

He took both of my hands in his
. "Don’t ever say that. Don’t ever think that."

My eyes water wh
en his voice breaks. All this time. I feel like a fool. He pulls me into his lap and crushes me to his chest. His lips find mine again, and I'm lost. Nothing will ever keep me from him again. We melt into each other, and the world slips away for a little while until we both turn our heads towards the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Anything you two want to tell me?" Brian asks as he leans up against a post.

Will grins at him over my shoulder. "I'm in love with your little sister."

"Really?"
I ask.

He k
isses the spot below my ear. "Always."

"About fucking time
." Brian laughs before heading back inside.

"But you don’t even know me anymore
, and I don’t know you. We can't just jump into something like this. I live in Denver. Seriously, what are we going to do?" I ask, trying to be logical.

He's now nibbling my ear lobe
. "I disagree, Sarah. I know you. I know your favorite sandwich. I know your favorite book. I know what you look like when you are sad and you don’t want anyone to know. I know how much you loved your Grandma Bess, and I bet you still have her picture by your bed. I know where you're ticklish and that you love waffle cones. I know you hold your breath when you think your heart is racing and that you’ve done that every time I've been near you this week. Don't think that we're rushing or doing anything too fast, and about the other stuff, we'll figure it out. I want you to know that I will do anything to be with you."