Just You (20 page)

I knew him well enough by now to distinguish
certain facial expressions and verbal tones, and right now both his
face and voice were screaming “There’s something I’m not telling
you and don’t want to tell you, so please drop it.” I recognized
this because I heard it every time I brought up college and where
he planned to go. But I could never figure out what it meant, until
right this moment. Slowly, I pulled away from him.

“You’re going to Avery, aren’t you?” I said,
and he averted his eyes, giving me my answer. “It doesn’t matter if
you want to go to Kinsley or not. You’re going to Avery
anyway.”

His jaw twitched again, even harder this
time, as if he were grinding his molars into dust. “I don’t know.
Honestly. In some ways I do want to stay here. Be with you. And
sometimes, when my father’s on my back and my mom is worrying
herself sick over Josh, there’s nothing I want more than to get the
hell away from here. My dad wants me gone. He’d never agree to
Kinsley. Never.”

“So why don’t you stand up to your dad for
once? Why are you letting him make all your decisions? You really
have to stop letting people walk all over you.”

I instantly regretted my words when Michael
stiffened beside me. I knew this was a sensitive topic for him, but
the ache of knowing he was leaving in September had gone to my head
and I couldn’t hold it back any longer. Since we’d started sleeping
together, any feelings I had toward him, be it love or anger or
jealousy, had only intensified. Along with trust came all these
other new emotions, some of which turned me into a freaking
lunatic.

“You don’t understand,” he said in a steely
voice. “Your father isn’t a bully who tries to mold his kids into
younger versions of him. When it comes to my father, I feel like I
have no choices. No control. And I hate it. Maybe I am a doormat,
but you don’t know what it’s like to live under that kind of
pressure.”

He’d never spoken to me like that before, so
harsh and impatient. But he was right. I had no idea what it was
like to have a father who was so powerful, so downright ruthless in
his expectations. It must have been hard to break free of that kind
of authority.

“Besides,” Michael went on, a little calmer
now, “what about your mom?”

I knew what he was implying, and I also knew
I deserved to hear it. “What about her?”

“She doesn’t even know about us. It’s been
months, and you haven’t told her. I don’t see you standing up to
her. She’s deciding your life for you too, isn’t she? If you’re so
sure about me, then why don’t you tell her about us and demand she
accept it? It’s not so easy, is it?”

The words erupted from his mouth as if he’d
been rehearsing them in his head for months and had been waiting
for precisely this moment to voice them. My objections quickly
dissolved on my tongue because again, he was correct. I had no
right to chastise him when I was no better myself.

“I’m going to tell her,” I said, meaning it.
That confrontation was long overdue.

“When?”

“Soon.” I touched his shoulder; it felt like
marble under my palm. “You’re totally right,” I said. “I’m
sorry.”

He let out a breath and leaned back against
the couch. “Your mom can’t force you not to see me.”

“And your dad can’t force you to go
away.”

He shook his head slightly, as if to say
of course he can
. No matter what, Michael would never stop
trying to please him. He would never stop trying to make up for his
brother’s failures. Which meant that come fall, he’d be leaving
home for Avery. Leaving me.

****

The next night, R.J. had a few people over
to his house to play pool. Michael and I kept losing, so after a
couple of hours we retired to the other end of the basement, where
several other couples had gathered. I sat on Michael’s lap in the
recliner and we joined in on a conversation about nothing in
particular. I was perfectly relaxed until I noticed Elena Brewster
descending the stairs, her clique of minions in tow. They headed
straight for the pool table area, ignoring us, and an uneasy
prickle started up my spine like it always did when she was near.
Except it felt even more pronounced tonight. A weird heaviness hung
in the air, an energy, like something big was about to happen.

Or something bad.

When the conversation died down, I went to
use the washroom. By the time I did my business and got out of
there, five minutes had passed, and I knew how much could happen in
the span of five minutes. Before I even reached the threshold of
the living room area of the basement, I had a gut feeling that a
certain evil blond goddess had swooped in during my absence. It was
as if she had an inner radar that pinged whenever Michael was left
unguarded for longer than a minute. She’d sense the sudden
susceptibility and then pounce.

Sure enough, she was right there next to
him, leaning on the arm of the chair I had left him in a few
minutes earlier. My first instinct was to storm over there and rip
her pretty hair out by the roots, but I didn’t want to give her the
satisfaction of making me look like an insecure nutcase. Instead, I
settled on the couch on the other side of the room with Kayla and
Ethan’s girlfriend, Jenna. They were talking about prom dresses and
I joined in, while at the same time keeping Elena in my line of
sight. At one point she caught my eye, her lips curling into a
triumphant smirk that said
See? I can get him away from you
whenever I want
.

Michael was being his usual polite self,
chatting with her, but I could see the relief on his face a few
minutes later when R.J. and Ethan and a couple of other guys lured
him away for a game of pool. Elena pouted and touched his bicep in
farewell before joining her friends by the bar. She whispered
something to one of them, who in turn nodded sympathetically. Then
they both glared at me with expressions full of smug accusation, as
if they knew something I didn’t.

“Is she bugging you?” Kayla asked, probably
feeling the heat from the lasers Elena was shooting in our
direction.

“Nope,” I said.

She could tell I was lying. “Ignore
her.”

“She’s just trying to provoke you,” Jenna
chimed in on my other side. “Don’t give her the satisfaction.”

“Elena thinks she should be able to have any
guy she wants,” Kayla said. “I swear, if she ever flirted with R.J.
the way she flirts with Michael, I’d have a hard time ignoring her
too.” She propped her feet up on the littered coffee table in front
of us. “It’s pathetic, really, the way she’s still hung up on him.
It’s not like they ever really dated. It was just a one night thing
with them, wasn’t it?”

Jenna nodded. “Yeah, like, months ago.”

One night thing
, I repeated in my
head. Perhaps I had heard wrong. “What?” I said, frowning. They
both looked at me, their faces identical expressions of horror as
they realized they’d just spilled something that was meant to stay
contained. Kayla bit her lower lip and glanced quickly at Jenna,
who shook her head almost imperceptibly.

All the sights and sounds around me fell
away and I found myself halfway across the room before I even
realized I’d moved. Three more strides and I was standing directly
in front of Elena, slapping a bottle of beer out of her hand. It
hit the hardwood floor with a clink, showering everyone within a
six foot radius with cold, frothy liquid. Surprised, Elena let out
a little shriek and jumped back, trampling on her friend’s
feet.

“What the
hell
is wrong with you?”
she yelled, shaking beer off her arm and glaring at me.

“Don’t ever fucking look at me again,” I
said in a low, firm voice. “And keep your hands off my
boyfriend.”

Color rose in her pale cheeks and her mouth
dropped open, then closed, then open again. “Psycho,” she
sputtered, and I was pretty sure I would have pushed her next if
Kayla hadn’t come up behind me.

“Taylor, come on,” she said, grabbing my arm
and easing me back. I let her, even though this long-overdue
confrontation still felt unfinished. As I was being towed across
the room, safely away from Elena, I noticed for the first time that
people were staring. And that my jeans were splattered with
beer.

“I’m sorry, Taylor,” Kayla said, still
holding my arm in case I had second thoughts about bloodshed. “I
didn’t know.”

“That makes two of us,” I muttered as
Michael appeared on my other side, his face etched with concern.
The bar area wasn’t visible from where the pool table was
stationed, so he hadn’t seen what just happened. I was sure he’d
heard it, though. Or he would tomorrow.

“What’s going on?” he asked, taking in both
my murderous expression and R.J.’s position, crouched on the floor
with a wad of paper towels, making my mess disappear.

Extricating myself from Kayla’s grasp, I
said, “Can we just go?”

Michael didn’t argue. We went upstairs, put
on our jackets, and left the house without exchanging a single
word. I was glad to get outside. The freezing winter air cooled my
face and made me feel a little better. More in control.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
Michael said on the way to his car.

I mumbled something about Elena pissing me
off and that tonight had been the last straw. He knew I disliked
her and that her obvious interest in him bothered me. It was only a
matter of time before I said something to her. What I didn’t tell
him—
couldn’t
tell him—was that I’d been provoked by what
Kayla and Jenna had let slip. I kept that information beyond reach,
until I felt rational enough to deal with it.

We were both quiet during the drive home.
Michael, seeing that I was clearly upset, kept trying to comfort
me. He laid a hand on my knee, squeezing it every so often as we
drove through the quiet streets. And then, once we were parked in
my dad’s driveway, he turned to me and asked me if I was all right.
And instead of saying no, instead of trusting him with the truth, I
lied.

“I’m fine. Just really tired.”

“Oh,” he said, believing me right away
because, well, I’d never lied to him before. “You should go get
some sleep then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I said, doubting I’d manage sleep
tonight. Every time I closed my eyes I’d see him with Elena
Brewster, doing whatever I imagined they had done during their
one night thing
thing.

He leaned over to kiss me, and I even kissed
him back. A hungry kiss, as if this was the last time we’d be
seeing each other for a long, long while. As if I were memorizing
his lips, his scent, the silky feel of his hair under my fingers,
things I now knew Elena Brewster had experienced too. No wonder
this girl hated me so much. No wonder she thought she still held
some kind of claim to Michael. No wonder he avoided her like the
plague whenever I was around. No wonder I always felt so threatened
by her—I had reason to be.

“Good night,” Michael said when I finally
pulled away. His knuckles skimmed across my jaw, so soft and
loving, and all of a sudden I wanted to confront
him
too,
pound my fists on his chest and demand to know why…why didn’t he
ever tell me about this “thing” with Elena, why did he say he
didn’t like her when he so obviously did at one time, why did he
lie when he said he’d never hurt me? Why?

But I didn’t say a word.

Somehow, I managed to get out of the car,
into the house, and up the stairs without crying. But there, in the
safety of my room, I let go until there was nothing left in me.

Chapter 19

When I woke up the next morning, the events
of last night felt almost surreal. More than a little part of me
was horrified by my actions, and not just last night’s actions
either. What had come over me lately? Throwing dishes, lying,
sneaking around, borderline
assaulting
a girl? All over
Michael. How could simply loving someone incite such blinding rage
in me? What else was I capable of? I was beginning to wonder if it
was even worth it, this
caring
thing.

Elena was right—I
was
psycho.

Thankfully, I had the entire week off school
and could hide my face in shame if I wanted to. And that’s exactly
what I wanted to do—hide.

Hiding at Dad and Lynn’s house wasn’t
difficult. The universities had had their break in February, so Dad
worked all week. Lynn was on day shift for three days straight, and
Leanne had gone skiing with a friend’s family until Thursday (which
surprised me, as I couldn’t picture Leanne wearing skis any more
than I could picture her wearing, say, a clown suit). I did have
Emma and Jamie to deal with, but they mostly hung out with each
other and left me alone. All I had to do, really, was feed them
lunch and periodically check on them to make sure they were still
breathing as they squandered away endless hours in front of the TV,
playing video games.

By noon that first day, I had to resist the
urge to collapse into the pot of mac and cheese I was making for
lunch. The previous night had consisted of image after revolting
image as I tried to interpret what
one night thing
might
mean. And most importantly, was this “thing” before or after
October, when I first made my appearance?

These questions—and the likelihood that I’d
never get the answers to them because I felt too stupid to ask—were
slowly driving me insane.

Of course, a deep-down part of me wasn’t
surprised at all. It had happened to me once and it was only a
matter of time before it happened to me again. Boys were…well,
boys. Why should Michael be any different? Loving someone, opening
up your heart to them, didn’t provide any immunity to getting hurt.
In fact, the opposite was true. By giving your trust to someone,
you also gave them the power to hurt you more deeply than anyone
else. I’d always admired the way girls like Robin bounced back from
bad relationships, moving right on to the next guy and effortlessly
letting him in without fear of the unknown, but that was Robin. I
wasn’t like her. She’d always been the brave one. Not me.