The Healing (The Things We Can't Change Book 3) (43 page)

“I still hate you,” I whisper brokenly. “I think a part of me always will. But I remember what it was like to love you. You were my first love. And you’ll always have that piece of me. But Zeke is right. I can’t let you control me anymore. And I’m not going to. From now on…” I pause, swallowing hard, choking on the words but they must be said. “From now on, even though you’re alive… you’re dead to me. You don’t exist. I can’t have you in my life, I can’t let myself think about you anymore. I just… I can’t, Tony.”

I wipe away the tears and feel I should do something symbolic, something forgiving, like kiss him on the forehead or caress his cheek, but I have no desire to touch him. I just want to be done with this part of my life, with him. So I just stand and exit the room, and as I do, a burden lifts off my shoulders; the last of Tony’s dictates, the last of the guilt, and I feel lighter than I ever have before in my life.

Zeke pushes away from the wall, letting his folded arms drop to his sides. “So?” he asks, looking a little nervous.

“It’s… done,” I manage to say, and wipe at my eyes again. It’s ridiculous to be crying, because by now, I know that Tony means nothing to me. I know I’m better off without him, but still, the tears are there even if I don’t want them.

He blows out a long breath of relief, and then gestures toward my pocket. “Time for the message.”

I pull my phone out and stare at the screen, and suddenly it all seems very anti-climactic. The nurses bustling past, the machines beeping, a patient shuffling past holding onto his IV stand.

“It doesn’t feel right to do it here,” I finally say, after I’ve rubbed my thumb over the crack in the screen several times. “It doesn’t feel… right.” I can’t explain any better than that, and while I know its lame, I also know that Zeke will understand, or at least try to.

“Oh yeah? And where would the right place be?” Zeke asks, stretching and trying to look unaffected, though I see how keenly he’s keeping an eye on me. I don’t blame him. I already tried to run once.

I contemplate the idea that has just come into my head, examining it for a long moment, and then deciding, what the hell? I may as well try it.

“My dad and I used to go to Florida every year. For a week, right before school started.”

Zeke studies me for a long moment, and I know he picks up my meaning right away. “Florida is what, fifteen, sixteen hours away?” he asks, and something stirs inside me when he doesn’t immediately reject the idea.

“About seventeen hours to Englewood. It’s a little beach town, that’s where we were going this year. We were planning to rent a house right on the beach.”

He keeps looking at me, deep into my eyes as he purses his lip and considers my admittedly wild idea. “You realize,” he says slowly, “that we start school on Monday. We’d be able to stay like, one night. With that drive.”

“I know,” I say, injecting a recklessness into my voice, because it’s true. I do know, and I also know that I don’t care.

Zeke thinks for a long, long time. His face is expressionless, but finally he asks, “And this is something that you need to do?”

I consider this for a moment as seriously as I can. And I realize that the answer is yes. I do need this. Very much. “Yes,” I say simply.

Zeke takes a breath, expels it and then nods his head. “All right. Let’s go.”

We drop off Zeke’s dad’s car at his apartment, and then we get into my car and just go. He’s in cargo shorts and a black v-neck shirt, and I’m in denim cut-off shorts and a simple white tank top and red cardigan. We have only our wallets, our phones, my purse with some breath mints, pens and notepad inside it and precious little else. Still, it’s enough and we don’t even hesitate.

I just hand Zeke the keys to my Lexus, I plug the address into the GPS and we leave Columbus. We’re silent on the drive, probably because we’re both tired, emotionally and physically. We drive through the evening, entering Tennessee as it’s getting dark and I recline my seat back and lay on my side, watching as the freeway lamps pass by,
swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh.
It’s hypnotic to watch, and eventually it lulls my eyes closed.

I wake up with a jolt, jerking upright and taking a moment to orient myself to where I am. It’s bright, and for a moment I think I’ve slept through the night and its morning, and then I realize that the car isn’t moving and we’re parked at a gas station. I grapple for my phone and see that it’s three in the morning and open my car door, stepping outside to stretch the kinks out of my body.

Zeke is leaning against the car, watching the meter on the gas pump but he turns when he hears my door open and nods at me. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” I say. “I’m going inside. I have to use the restroom. And I need food.”

“Give me just a sec, the tank is almost full. I’ll go in with you,” he says, passing my credit card back to me over the top of the car. I insisted on paying for all the gas, because it was my idea and because, frankly, I can afford it easily and Zeke can’t.

I wait for him and we go inside and grab water and snack bars and I snag a bag of Twizzler Bites as well. I ask Zeke if he needs me to drive as we head back out, but he says no and I am content to let him drive the whole way if he wants. Before I know it, we’re back on the road and I’m asleep again.

“Evie. Hey, Evie. Wake up.”

I groan and push away the hand that is poking me, opening my eyes and then closing them again as they’re blinded. “Ugh,” I groan again, and rub my eyes. I slowly sit up, my back protesting, and open my eyes fully and look around. “Where are we?”

“Denny’s,” Zeke says, and when I look over at him, he’s smiling. A cute, little boy smile that’s full of excitement. “Breakfast… and then the beach. It’s only five minutes away. I cruised past while you were asleep, but I’m starving so I decided food comes first.”

I smile at him, though that only makes me aware of how badly I need to brush my teeth and the fact that my hair is probably sticking up in the back. “Sounds great,” I say, reaching for the latch of my door. “I would kill for some coffee right now.”

It’s hot outside, baking hot and humid but it feels glorious, something new and foreign so I welcome it, shedding my cardigan for the walk inside but then quickly putting it back on when the blast of air conditioning hits me and makes me shiver. We get seated and both order a huge breakfast, remaining silent while we wait because it’s clear neither of us is totally awake yet.

“Isaiah! Give it back!”

I hear the shriek and turn to see a couple in a booth across the room, a girl with extremely tan skin and light hair, and a boy with the same looks, both of them with light colored eyes that pop against their dark skin. They remind me instantly of Zeke, the dark against the light, and it makes me smile to myself.

“Chill out, Simon,” the boy says, and I see that he’s holding a book aloft, out of the girl’s reach.

“I have to review that! Give it back!”

I turn back to Zeke and we smile at each other, and then our food arrives and we’re quiet as we eat everything in sight. Full to bursting, we walk back out to the car, and I take over driving because I feel bad about the dark shadows and listlessness in Zeke’s eyes. He’s clearly suffering from the seventeen-hour drive, and I know he needs to rest. We pull out onto the road and drive the five minutes to the beach, and I pull into a spot and look over at Zeke.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Of course,” he says, looking a little more awake and excited. “I’ve always wanted to see the beach. Are
you
ready?”

I consider for a moment, because I know Zeke wants a real answer. “I’m nervous,” I admit. “And it feels weird. But…” I look up at him. “But I know that doesn’t mean this isn’t good for me.”

There’s the flash of white teeth against Zeke’s skin as he smiles at me, and then he exits the car and comes around to my door, opening it for me. He helps me out of the car, and he doesn’t let go of my hand as we cross the parking lot and climb the stairs of the boardwalk. In a moment, we’ve rounded the tall sea grass and the ocean is in full view, the stinging hot sand underneath my flip flops.

Zeke jerks to a halt, my own motion arrested since he’s still holding my hand. “Wow,” he breathes, staring out over the long beach, the water that’s sparkling in the sun as though diamonds are scattered over its surface. I lift my face up and feel the extreme heat beat down on it, already making me sticky underneath my cardigan and unbound hair. I can smell the salty air, briny with a tang of seaweed, hear the gulls squawking and begging the tourists for food.

“I know,” I say, because even though I’ve seen beaches that are probably more beautiful than this one, right now, I’ve never seen anything so glorious. I think back to all the times my dad and I would go to the beach before school started, the annual trip and the traditions that we always adhered to. And I know that one of them, at least, is still doable. I drop my hand from Zeke’s and look up at him, smiling hugely. “Race you to the water.”

And then I take off across the beach. After a moment I chance a look behind me and see that Zeke is following and gaining on me with his longer legs. But then, it doesn’t really matter who wins. All that matters is the race, the moment, and the enjoyment of it. Having
fun
again. I shed my cardigan as I go, letting it flutter away in the wind and then Zeke is alongside me and we’re at the water, splashing in against a huge wave.

The water hits me full on in the face but I pay no attention, even as I lick the salty water off my lips. I just keep going, my motion arrested by the warm, bathtub-temperature water swirling around my ankles and calves, wading out as far and fast as I can, Zeke right next to me. He trips and falls headlong into the water, coming up spluttering and shaking his head.

I’m laughing at him because I can’t help it, and his eyes narrow and before I realize it he’s grabbed my ankle and I’m toppling over as well, hitting the surface with an enormous splash and then my head is under. I come up gasping for air, coughing against the water that I swallowed and pushing all my hair out of my face. I finally gain some sight through the long, wet strands and see Zeke floating, laughing hysterically at me.

My own eyes narrow and I pounce on him, pushing him under the water but it backfires when a huge waves hits me full force and I’m tossed away, tumbling around underneath the surface of the water. I finally gain a sense of direction and manage to get to my feet, coughing and choking but feeling everything and it feels wonderful. The salty water, the heaviness of my wet hair, the sand already in my wet clothes. I don’t care about any of it. Because it all makes me feel alive.

Zeke wades over to me, smiling even as he hikes up his wet shorts. I take a few steps toward the beach so we’re safe from the bigger waves, too shallow for them to knock us over and cover my eyes from the sun with my hand as he approaches.

“Keep your pants on!” I call when he’s close enough. “Nobody wants to see that.”

“You wish!” he shouts back, and then waits until he’s standing next to me, breathing hard. “It’s harder to swim out here,” he observes, staring over the water.

“So much current,” I say. I look up at him, at his red rimmed eyes and how quickly his chest is moving up and down. “You’re tired from driving,” I say apologetically. “You should have let me do some of it.”

He shakes his head. “It was fine. I feel better when I’m doing it. You seem too small to be allowed to drive.”

I scowl at his teasing smile, but then head back for the beach nonetheless. “I have a blanket in the back of my car, and maybe a hand towel or something. I’ll go get them and you can take a nap in the sun.”

When I return from the car, blanket in my hands, Zeke is sitting in the sand, arms propped up on his knees and head dropped between them. I prod him, but he only makes an unintelligible noise and I realize he’s already half asleep, and it makes me smile.

I carefully spread out the blanket next to him and practically push him over so he falls on top of it. He cracks open one eye to glare at me before rolling fully onto the blanket, lying on his stomach with one hand underneath him, one hand outstretched. I sit carefully down next to him, not sleepy but not feeling like swimming again just yet.

I gather my wet hair into a braid so it’s somewhat under control and then lay down on my back, very aware of Zeke’s outstretched hand just inches from my face. I cross my own hands over my middle and close my eyes, breathing everything in, saturating my senses with it all. Slowly, limb by limb, muscle by muscle, my body relaxes. No tension, no fear, no guilt, no regret. All eeking away, slipping out of my body, dripping from my pores and pouring into the ground, absorbed by the clean, white sand.

I fall asleep without meaning to, waking up later when the sun is much lower in the sky, hot and sticky with sweat and already knowing my face is burned but not caring. Both Zeke and I will be burned to a crisp by the end of the day, and it’s too late to avoid that. I sit up slowly, looking over at Zeke. He’s still sound asleep, relaxed in slumber and a dark shadow of stubble forming over his already-dark jaw. I dare to reach out and touch him, while he’s so unguarded, and trace a finger along his cheek. He murmurs and moves slightly, and I pull away and look back out at the ocean.

I wonder what would be happening, how my life would be different and where I would be at this exact moment if my dad hadn’t died. Then I go to the extreme and wonder how my life would be different if I had never dated Tony, had never even met him. If some bizarre twist of fate had occurred and his parents hadn’t lived in Grandview, and I’d never seen him before in my life. I wonder what kind of person I would be, strong or weak, brave or afraid. I wonder if I ever would have given Zeke a second look, not needing the feeling of safety I got around him. Would I have been drawn to him the same way that I am now? I don’t know, but he’s so magnetizing I like to think I would have been.