Home Again (3 page)

“Aisley Carter, knock it off. You better not have come here to have a pity party.”

“No, of course not.”

“Good, because I’m all out of pity,” she said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I studied her face, and knew right away that she was keeping something from me. “Becks.”

Becks turned away, grabbing a soda from her fridge. “Want one?”

“No. What aren’t you telling me?”

"Nothing. Forget it."

"Becks."

“Shit. I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

“It’s about East, isn’t it?” It always was. “Did he come here last night?” I looked around, looking for a sign that he had been here.

Wait, if he did come here—did that mean Becks and Easton were hooking up? No. They wouldn’t do that to me, would they?

“Wipe that stupid look off your face. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” I huffed.

“So you’re not thinking that I’m getting my sweet, sweet lovin’ on with your man?” Her eyes sparkled with laughter, and I wanted to smack her.

I giggled. “He’s not my man, anymore. You’re free to do whatever you want, and so is he,” I said, feeling my stomach knot up at the thought of them together.

“Well, you can relax, because East never was my type.” Becks plopped down on her couch and patted the seat next to her.

As I sat down with her, I didn’t want to ask her what I knew was about to come out of my mouth. “So have you seen him? Did he tell you?”

“Yes, he came over last night after he ran into you. I got to hear all sorts of bitching from that whiny ass boy.”

“What did he say? He hates me, doesn’t he?”

“He said you were at the bar, drunk.” She pointed at me. “Why wasn’t I invited?”

“I just went to go get some noodles but—”

“—the noodle place closed down six months ago,” she inserted for me.

“Yeah. So I went to the bar for some food, and ended up having a couple of drinks.”

“They served you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t have a fake, too.” I rolled my eyes at her, jokingly.

“Well, yeah, but you’re Aisley Carter. I mean, they should
know
that. I wouldn’t think it would work.”

I laughed. “You’d be surprised what having my name can do.”
But enough about me…get to East.

“Seriously, though. He didn’t say much. Just asked me if I knew you were back, and for how long.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. I told him I knew you were coming, but that I’m not sure how long you’re staying. That’s the truth. How long
are
you staying, Aisley?”

Fuck. Why did she have to ask that question? The answer was as long as I could stomach it, but I couldn’t say that to her or anyone else who lived here. “I don’t know. Maybe a month, maybe two.”
Maybe I’ll leave tomorrow…

She didn’t have anything to say about that, so we sat in silence as I looked around her apartment. My eyes landed on a piece of tree bark, laying on the bookshelf.

“Carter, come on, don’t be a wimp!” Easton laughed, grabbing my arm and tugging me across the log that we were using as a bridge to get across the creek without getting wet.

“What if I fall in?”

“You won’t fall in,” he said confidently.

“Come on, sissy. I did it,” Becks called proudly from behind Easton.

“Okay.” I looked him dead in the eyes. “Promise you won’t let go?”

“Promise.” He gripped my hand tight, and butterflies awoke in my tummy for the first time. As he tugged me across the piece of wood, I kept my eyes closed tight.

“You’re going to fall in if you don’t open your eyes, goober.” Easton laughed, and suddenly we stopped. “Open your eyes, Carter.”

I did what he said. Looking around, I was relieved we were on the other side. “Thanks, East.”

Easton grinned and took out his pocketknife. Bending down, he carved away three pieces from the old log, handing one to Becks, one to me, and shoving one into his back pocket. “A trophy, for your bravery.”

The butterflies took their time dancing in the pit of my stomach as my hand grazed his. So I took my time grabbing the piece of bark from him, savoring the way it felt to touch him.

“Come on, guys. You can trade cooties later!” Becks yelled, running farther into the forest.

A blush crept onto my cheeks.

Easton looked away, embarrassed. “Let’s go, Aisley.”

“Hello? Earth to Aisley.” Becks snapped her fingers and laughed, as I shook the memory.

“Where the hell did you go?”

“Uh, I just saw the bark.” I pointed behind her, to the bookshelf.

“Oh, that.”

“I can’t believe you still have that. And, it’s on display, nonetheless,” I joked.

“What, you don’t have yours?” she asked incredulously.

“No. I mean, yeah, it’s packed into a box somewhere,” I lied. Yes, I still had it. I knew exactly where it was, too. Stuffed inside the pocket of my guitar case. For good luck.

“Uh-huh,” she said, “Right.”

She could assume I was lying all she wanted, but I wouldn’t tell her the truth. “Whatever.”

“So are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” she asked suddenly.

Which one?

“Talk to me… about why you’re here.”

Oh. That one.

“You know I love you, no matter what,” she reminded me. Not that she needed to.

I let out a heavy sigh, and ran my fingers through my strawberry blonde hair. “I just don’t want to talk about it yet, Becks.”
I don’t want to talk about it ever, actually, because there is nothing wrong with me.

“Fine, but you need to talk to someone.”

“Not you, too,” I groaned. “I’ll call the shrink, don’t worry.”

“I always worry.”

“Can we please stop talking about me? Tell me how college is.”

She looked down. “I, I’m taking some time off.”

“What? Since when?”

“Since… my mom got sick.”

Cathy was sick? Sick how? “What do you mean?”

“She’s fine now, don’t freak out. Last fall she found a lump in her breast.”

“She has cancer?” My eyes widened. I had to be the biggest asshole on Earth for not knowing this.

“She had a double mastectomy, so there’s little chance it’ll come back.”

“Holy shit. Why didn’t you tell me, Rebecca?” I said angrily, using her full first name.

“Look, don’t be mad. Honestly, it was a couple months after Ralph passed away… so I guess I just didn’t think it would matter. ”

That’s it. I am the world’s worst friend.
“I’m sorry, Becks. Fuck. I’m a terrible person. I’m surprised you don’t hate me as much as Easton does.”

“I could never hate you. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, come on.”

“So have me and Easton,” I reminded her. And he has no problem hating me.

“What did I say about a pity party?”

“Right, no pity party.”

And no more thinking about Easton Everson.

Easier said than done.

***

Chapter 4

I stood, lips pursed, staring at the man at my front door. I was half-tempted to slam the door right in his face.

“Are you going to let me in?”

No.
“Yeah, come in, Devin. I didn’t know you were coming. I figured you’d just call.” I opened the door wider and moved aside to let him in.

“Nice try, Princess. The label wanted me to keep an eye on you, you know that.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay. I was just a little stressed.”

“Aisley, you are one of the best singer-songwriters out there right now. Don’t fuck this up.”

He was right. If I kept shutting people out, I’d end up right back here for good. I wouldn’t let that happen. I had to let them think they fixed whatever they thought was wrong with me. “Right. Sorry.”

“You haven’t called Dr. Tinsley, have you?”

“Not yet.” My jaw tightened.

“Look, the label agreed you could leave the recovery center, as long as you came back here for outpatient counseling.”

“I know.”

“Need I remind you, they are helping you pay your bills? And they let you postpone the rest of your tour for four fucking months? And they didn’t drop your ass—”

“Yeah, Devin, I got it.” I rubbed my face, and cut him off.

“Your mom told me you went out last night. You can’t do that, Aisley.”

I snorted. “I can’t leave my parents’ house? What am I, in jail?”

“No, but you’re on very thin ice—so don’t push it. If people start spotting you, it’ll draw way too much negative attention. Not to mention, you don’t have a bodyguard here.”

“This town is practically
Pleasantville
, Devin. Who needs a bodyguard here?” I said with an eye roll.

“You do. I’m not fucking around, so either stay out of sight or I’m sending John here to babysit you.”

I didn’t want either option. “Dev, please.”

“I’m sorry, Aisley. You haven’t given us many choices.”

“Fuck,” I mumbled. “Send John here if you have to, but I’m not going to live like a fucking recluse.”

“Perfect,” he shot. “I’ll give him a call right now.”

“Great,” I said sarcastically. John was perfectly fine, as far as bodyguards were concerned. He was actually one of my favorites, since he didn’t ogle me like most of the others. The problem wasn’t necessarily, John, it was that I couldn’t walk around here without an entourage. This was exactly why I would not blend in.

And all I wanted to do was blend in until I left.

But I knew from experience that Devin Harping was relentless, so it would be better to just agree now and save myself the hassle of an argument that I would inevitably lose. That was something that made him a good manager. You never won in an argument with Devin Harping.

“I’ve got a flight to catch in two hours, so be good.”

“What, you’re not staying for dinner?”

“Don’t be a smart ass.” He gave me a sideways look, and opened the door. “And I already called Dr. Tinsley, you have an appointment at ten tomorrow. Don’t miss it.”

How did I know that was coming? Devin knew me entirely too well.

***

This was stupid. I didn’t have a problem. I shouldn’t be here. Even if I did have a problem, the two months I spent in inpatient treatment should have fixed me. I shouldn’t have to give up two more months to talk about my feelings with a stranger who had a PhD. I sat outside of Dr. Tinsley’s door, tapping my foot on the ground anxiously. I looked over at John, who arrived bright and early this morning, just as I expected. “It’s ten-fifteen, maybe she’s not even in there,” I said to him hopefully.

“Doubtful, kid.” John chuckled.

As if on cue, her door opened. “Ms. Carter, come in.”

I looked to John, praying he’d save me.

“I’ll be right here when you come out.”

I gave him a tight smile and walked into the office. It smelled like old books and coffee. I looked around at the degrees that framed Dr. Tinsley’s walls. She seemed qualified, at least. There was a table that held a coffee pot in the back of the room, complete with paper cups and packets of sugar and creamer beside it. In front of that was a couch.

How very cliché.

“Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?”

Reluctantly, I sat down on the couch. “No, I’m fine.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Aisley. It takes a lot for a person to admit they need help.”

“I don’t need help,” I said. “I’m just here because I have to be.”

“I see.” She jotted something down in her notebook, and I wondered what it could be.

“What are you writing?”

“Just taking notes, don’t worry about it.” She smiled back.

I forced a smile back. “Where do we start, Doc?”

“How about you tell me when you first started restricting your meals?”

I cringed. She was just going to jump right in, wasn’t she? “I don’t—” I started to lie. “I mean, it was never on purpose.” That might have been a lie, but this so-called ‘eating disorder’ was never supposed to go as far as it did. I was never supposed to lose that much weight, but after a while, it was hard to stop. It became hard to look at myself without feeling inadequate. Without feeling as if I weren’t pretty enough, or skinny enough, or even good enough. But that didn’t mean I had problem. I did fine in treatment. I even gained back most of the weight I had lost.

I shouldn’t have to be here.

I don’t need to be here.

There’s nothing wrong with me.

“Never?”

Well, shit…
“It’s hard to remember to eat when you’re being pulled in a thousand different directions every day. It’s no big deal, I’ll just be better about it.”

“And you think it’s that easy?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

The doctor furrowed her brow, jotting more things down. “Okay. What’s it like to be back home?”

“Fine.”

“Did you miss it?”

“Burden? No.” I chuckled.

“Why not?”

“Is that a real question? This place is just a dead end.”

“Is that what you think? Is that why you left?”

Fuck me.
I did not want to tell Dr. Tinsley anything about my leaving
or
my ‘eating disorder’.

“I left to follow my dreams. Is that a crime?”

“No. In fact, it’s very brave. A lot of people would be too scared to do that.”

I looked at my watch. “I think our time’s up.”

She gave me a look. “We’ve got at least twenty minutes left. But you are free to go, if that’s what you want.”

I stood up.

“Before you go though, I have something for you.” She jotted something on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a support group, for people who are going through the same things you are. I’d really like you to think about going. It might be good for you.”

A support group? Yeah-fucking-right. That was the last thing I needed. There was no way in hell I would be going to that.