Me After You (3 page)

“Yeah, Lily’s mentioned it to me, too.”

“If you and Lily ever want to double, have Lily give Tina a holler. We could use a night out. Tina is always talking about how I never take her anywhere.”

I swipe my card to pay and chuckle. “All right. I’ll have her do that. It’d be nice to get out of Willowhaven for a night.”

“I hear ya, man.”

I walk out of Art’s, throwing a wave behind me at Henry and blink back the sunlight. As summer approaches, the sun gets brighter. And hotter.
Dang, it’s hot!
My eyes adjust and wander across the street. I’m not sure why. I know where my truck is parked, and it’s parked in the opposite direction. But it’s as if my eyes know she’s there.

Sawyer stands motionless on the sidewalk outside of Pearl’s with an expression full of everything I never want to see on her face—disbelief, hurt, sorrow—and it’s all trained on me.

She’s back. Full force. The whirlwind that makes up Sawyer Hartwell is a few feet away from me. But she’s not Sawyer Hartwell anymore. She’d gone and taken a common name like Johnson or Brown. An ordinary last name doesn't match up with this extraordinary woman.

It doesn’t matter that I knew she was back. Knowing she’s here and seeing her face before my eyes are two very different things. She’s been here for almost a month, but I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see her.

She’s just as beautiful as I remember—if not more—even with the sadness straining the features on her face. I feel myself gravitating toward her, and the look on her face as I take one step says it all. I’m not allowed to go any farther. Not that it would have mattered, because she takes off before I can say a word. I watch her retreating figure grow smaller and smaller as she runs down the concrete until she’s completely out of sight.

I don’t know what I planned to say to her. ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t encompass all that I feel. I’m sorry for so many things. For not listening. For not trusting her. For lying. For being so dang stubborn. For leaving.

For her sudden loss.

I maneuver into my truck, tossing the brown bag on the passenger seat. My tools fly out and hit the floor. Before I realize what I’m doing, my hands feel bruised from beating the steering wheel over and over. Leaning forward, I rest my head over the top of the steering wheel to catch my breath.

My mind plays back an image of Sawyer I’ve been holding onto for the last six years. An image that isn’t so foreign, that looks nothing like the expression I just witnessed. When she sees me, she smiles warmly, brightening her entire face. When she looks at me nothing else exists.

“Hey, Sawyer,” I call.

As she’s walking down the hall, she turns her face to look at me, and her eyes beam. They always seem to shine, and I wonder if it’s possible that she’s part angel. Not in the cheesy pick-up line kind of way. Literally. She’s too sweet to possibly want anything to do with me. And yet, whenever we pass one another in the hallway she never ceases to smile. She should look the other way or pretend I don’t exist, but she never does.

“Dean… Hey. What’s up?”

It’s possible that this is the first time I’ve ever heard Sawyer say my name. Though we’ve lived in the same town our entire lives, we always mingle in separate circles. Her circle doesn’t accept mine, not that I deserve to be in her circle anyway. She’s so out of my league. There has never been a reason for us to ever talk until now.

If it weren’t for my buddies, would I ever have dared to approach her?

Never.

Her long ponytail falls over the front of her right shoulder. She’s heading to volleyball practice so I should make this quick to keep her from being late, but as soon as she says my name I lose my train of thought.

“Dean?” Her left eyebrow lifts, and she smiles out of the corner of her mouth as if she knows she makes me lose my mind.

I clear my throat, hoping that will buy me time to find my balls again. “Would you wanna hang out this weekend?”

Her entire mouth smiles now, though she’s a little shy as she says, “Okay. I’d like that.”

“Really?” I didn’t actually believe she would say yes. I wanted her to. I wanted her to so badly, but the odds were stacked against me.
Remain cool
. “Sweet. Can I pick you up around seven on Friday?”

“Okay.” She nods then ducks her head timidly with a shrug and begins walking backward. “I’ve got to head to practice now. Coach doesn’t give any leniency for tardiness.”

“Right. Yeah. Have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” She lifts a hand, curling her fingers forward in a small wave, and with that little wave, I know there’s no turning back.

Hook.

Line.

Sinker.

I start the engine of my truck, but I can barely think straight so I wait in park, my engine idling. I’m in no condition to drive. The garage would probably clear my head. Working on my bikes always helps, but Lily is probably waiting at my house now.
Freak
. I forgot all about Lil. I shift my gear into drive and take off down Main Street, heading for home.

I
HEAR
M
OM
call my name when I walk through the garage door, but I don’t stop as I throw the groceries on the countertop and dart for the safety of my bedroom. The stairs seem a mile high. I stumble and whack my shins on the edge of the landing, but continue on. I don’t feel the pain, or maybe I just welcome it at this point. When the door shuts behind me, I fall against it and release every emotion I’ve been bottling up for the last six years.

But this time, not one tear is shed for Grayson.

As I stand at my locker exchanging books, I hear Dean Preston’s voice. It’s probably a little strange that I know the sound of it when I’ve never even hung out with the guy. But he has one of those distinct gruff voices that can make any girl’s heart flutter.

“So he needs this to happen today?” Dean asks.

“Yeah. It’s nothing you haven’t done before. This should be a piece of cake for you. Just do what you do best.”

Oh, I know what Dean does best. It’s not a secret that he’s a good fighter. But I never realized it was ever more than fights out of provocation.
Was he organizing one?

“I’ve got this. It won’t be a problem for much longer.”

I peer out of the corner of my eye to see him talking to Aiden Ballard a few lockers down. They stand with their heads together, devising the plan.

“Just meet Joe in the alley by Art’s Hardware. He’ll have everything you need. I’ll meet you there to make sure the job gets done right.” Aiden smirks. “And I know you’ll be compensated.”

“I don’t want the money. I’ll do it for free.”

What in the world are they talking about?
Dean catches me staring. He’s caught off guard at first, looking a little nervous. Maybe he realizes I heard every word of their conversation, but then he flashes me a smile, releasing the butterflies in my stomach, before they walk away.

I’m too curious not to follow Dean after school. I park my car across from the alleyway Aiden mentioned and wait for him to show. It doesn’t take more than five minutes before he pulls up on his motorcycle across the street. He hitches up his backpack and looks around.
A man comes out of a side door and motions for Dean from down in the alley. They talk for only a minute, but it looks shady. What kind of deal has he gotten himself into? Dean comes back tucking a crowbar in his backpack. Umm… what would he need a crowbar for in a fight? A sinking feeling settles in my stomach. Maybe it wasn’t going to be a fair fight. I don’t really know what’s going on here, but now I’ve gone too far.

I try to remain inconspicuous as I follow him halfway across town to an older looking home. He walks to an old, rundown shed by the side of the house, takes the crowbar out of his backpack, and leans it against the side. Aiden comes into view and nods. They talk for a few minutes, waiting, and I wish I could hear what they’re saying, but if I get out or try to get any closer I’ll be discovered.

An elderly gentleman comes out from the behind the house and walks over to Aiden and Dean.
Maybe they aren’t supposed to be here?
Aiden gets closer to the man and Dean reaches for the crowbar. Wait a second. He’s not going to… He wouldn’t actually…

Dean raises the crowbar, and my heart stops. He can’t! My hand is on my car door handle, ready to leap from the car to stop whatever is about to go down. But then he swings the crowbar up and rests it against his shoulder as he walks over to Aiden and the elderly man. He reaches out his hand to shake and the man pats him on the back with a smile on his face as if they’re old friends.

Aiden stands, resting his elbow on the elderly man’s shoulder as they talk with Dean. He gestures toward the shed, and Dean nods, taking in whatever instructions he’s given. I’m thoroughly confused until it dawns on me. This is probably Aiden’s house. I remember hearing someone say he lives with his grandparents now.

There’s no fight. The guy in the alley was probably trying to help Dean out with cheap tools or something.

I misjudged Dean. Horribly.

Dean spends the rest of the afternoon using the crowbar to tear down the metal paneling on the roof of the shed. I watch as Aiden helps him out where he can, but Dean is clearly the brains behind the project. Every day after that I follow him here. Now that I know where he’s going, I can be less conspicuous. I don’t stay most days—just simply drive by to watch his progress. He comes back day after day until he’s completely restored the shed. After two weeks, the once rundown shed looks brand-new.

I learned something that first day I followed Dean Preston. He’s not what people think. There’s so much more than meets the eye. And I want to know more.

If only I hadn’t wanted to learn more that day. If only I’d kept my distance and not given into the lure of Dean Preston who no one else understood. There would be no painful memories to haunt me at every turn. I could live peacefully in this town.

I believed him when he told me he would never come back. Years ago, I pleaded with God to bring him back to me. I tried bargaining in my mind. I would do better. I would be better. I would give up anything, anyone else… just not him. But nothing worked. He didn’t want me anymore. He made up his mind. So why did he come back? I don’t need this. I can’t heal in the same town that holds Dean Preston. He’s going to capsize my barely floating ship.

I don’t want you.
Those were his last words before he walked out of my life completely.

You don’t realize what damage those four words can have until you hear them aimed at you from the person you love most in the world.

My heart screamed out his name for hours after he left, begging and pleading for it to be some sick twisted nightmare. It eventually turned into a silent plea. My heart must have known before I did that he was really gone. My brain tried to suppress it. I didn’t want to believe that it could possibly be true. When you think something will always be, it’s not easy to let it go and watch as it slips away.

***

“Sawyer?” I don’t think I fell asleep, but my brain feels muddled when I hear my mom say my name. My face is stuck to the tan carpet. I shift to sit up and feel the divots left in my cheek. She tries opening the door, but my body is blocking it. “Honey, what’s blocking the door?”

I don’t answer, just move out of the way, but don’t get up. I lean my back against the wall and wait for her to enter.

She searches the room for me when she walks in and then sees me on the floor up against the wall. I feel questions I don’t want asked hovering on the tip of her tongue. So many questions that would open the ultimate can of gigantic worms to ever crawl the face of the Earth. And yet, I do want them asked. I want answers. I want her to know how much she hurt me.

We’ve been here once before. Six years ago she watched me curl into a ball of emptiness and rejection. Before, she told me I had a week to wallow, and then I needed to get over that stupid boy. But today she knows better. She knows exactly what I discovered and is too afraid to ask because what she did is unforgiveable. She knows how wrong she was to lie to me.

Finally, I hear her swallow and ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

I don’t look at her. I stare forward out my window. “Did you know Dean was back?” I question. His name sounds unfamiliar coming from my mouth. It’s been so long since I’ve said it out loud.

“Yes,” she answers meekly, and without my response she knows to leave me alone. She knows she deceived me with the deepest form of betrayal.

The door closes quietly behind her, but I don’t move. I don’t make a sound. The tears weigh on my chest, but they don’t escape. They push harder and harder until my heart feels like it could stop beating at any second from the pressure. I remain on the floor for the rest of the day, praying my heart will give out and put me out of my misery once and for all.

But the reprieve never comes.

L
ILY
IS
SITTING
on my porch when I pull into my driveway. I grab my tools from the floor and get out of my truck. Wearing jean shorts and an off-the-shoulder t-shirt, she smiles her slow, sweet smile and stands up as I approach. Her thumbs tuck in her belt loops as she sways from side to side.

“I thought you forgot about me.”

“No. Sorry. Just got caught up in town.”

She shrugs and offers another smile. “I was thinking that maybe tonight we could grab a pizza and stay in, watch a movie.”

I lean in to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Sounds good.” She takes my hand and I motion for her to follow me to my garage so I can put away my new tools.

I shake my head, but I can’t wipe Sawyer from my mind. For the last six years, I’ve dreamed of Sawyer showing up. I dreamed that she would somehow find me during my hiatus from Willowhaven, though she wouldn’t have known where to start to look. Hiding my tracks was my number one priority. I dreamed of what I would say, what I would do. Every possible scenario I could imagine ran through my mind. Yelling. Smiling. Anger. Hugging. Sarcasm. Shyness. Awkwardness. But the way it went down definitely wasn’t one that played out in my mind.