The Year We Fell Apart (14 page)

We park in the driveway and I sprint to the porch swing. Graham holds the front door open for me.

“I’ll wait out here.” I pull out my phone and text Kyle to come pick me up. Graham is still standing there. I hold out my hand. “You can give me my house keys back now.”

He walks over, holding them just above my palm. “Eleven o’clock curfew, Harp.”

“Thanks,
Dad
.” I yank the keys out of his grip.

Thankfully, Graham doesn’t wait with me. Kyle pulls into the driveway ten minutes later.

THE THING ABOUT PARTIES IN
Carson is that they’re all the same. The players or venue may change, but not much else. And not enough to make a difference.

We spend the first hour in the kitchen with everyone else, hovering over the cooler. I’m already drunk by the time Kyle grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the living room.

We move through a hallway where a girl is having a total meltdown with her boyfriend. The guy backs up against the wall and throws his hands in the air, sloshing half his beer onto the carpet. “I’m not dealing with this right now!”

“Fine, so do whatever you want! See if I care,” she yells back.

I hold my breath and squeeze past her, lifting my drink over our heads.

The whole house is dim, the only light coming from accent lamps on side tables, and outside of the kitchen it smells strongly of incense. Loud music plays from a speaker in the corner of the room. Cat and a few other girls from school are swaying to the beat in the middle of the floor, no doubt hoping to catch the attention of the guys across the room. Haley Smith is among them. She hands her drink to Cat and peels off her shirt, revealing a cropped tank top underneath. It works. One of the guys gets off the couch and makes his way over.

Kyle sits on another couch and I slide onto his lap. His hand settles on my hip, and he leans in. I turn back to my red plastic cup. I hate making out in front of people.

Kyle’s friend Aaron or Alex or something that starts with
A
sits down next to us.

“That girl Mandy is so hot,” he says.

Mandy Philips. Another one of the dancing girls.

Kyle’s hand slips down to my thigh. “So go talk to her.”

The friend doesn’t move. “You think I have a chance?” he asks.

“For sure. Andy, look at what she’s wearing. You know she’s easy.”

Andy.
I was close.

Then I play back the rest of what Kyle said. My palm starts to sweat, mixing with the condensation on my cup. I can feel my pulse everywhere—my ears, my stomach. “What did you just say?”

He pretends he didn’t hear me. I stand up, gripping the arm of the couch to keep myself steady.

“Where are you going?” Kyle asks.

I pretend I didn’t hear him.

I stumble my way back to the kitchen and pour another drink. Something to wash down the sour taste in my mouth.

He said it like it was nothing. That’s what always gets me—how everyone can act like that kind of slut-shaming is no big deal. An internal timer goes off, and I have to get out of here as fast as possible. But Sadie left with Mike twenty minutes in. I missed my chance for a ride. Not that she really would have wanted me tagging along.

Kyle finds me in the kitchen; he hooks his finger through my belt loop and runs his other hand down my neck.

“Fuck off, Kyle.”

He grins. “You’re always so mean to me, Sloan.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re an asshole.”

He stops grinning. “Why am I an asshole?”

“You know they say that kind of shit about me, too, right? Is that why you’re interested in me?”

I can’t believe I just asked that. Because (a) of course that’s why he’s interested in me. And (b) what do I want him to say? That he’s madly in love with me?

We don’t mean anything to each other. That’s why it works.

“Oh, come on, I was just trying to help Andy out.”

“Don’t ever call a girl easy in front of me again. Don’t call girls easy, period.”

“Okay, okay.” Kyle reaches for me again. I pull back. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

I shrug and take another gulp of my rum and Coke.

“Harper.” Kyle steps closer and reaches for my hair. He tucks it behind my ear, almost shyly. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

Kyle looks me straight in the eye and I notice for the first time they’re a nice shade of blue. Not spectacular or anything. But nice.

“Fine.”

He blows out a long, relieved breath. “Do you want to get out of here?”

I set my cup on the counter. “Let’s go.”

He grins again. His teeth are perfectly straight and super white, and when he smiles it makes him look older. Kind of handsome, even.

But he doesn’t have dimples.

He takes my hand and we weave back through the party, saying good-bye to anyone who cares that he’s leaving. He does a weird handshake thing with a few guys from the lacrosse team, and all of them give him this smug look. Like they’re congratulating him on leaving with me. Like they know exactly what we’re about to go do.

Outside the storm has passed without putting so much as a dent in the humidity. The smell of soil hangs heavy in the muggy air, and we cross the soggy lawn to the sidewalk. Kyle stops twice on the way back to his car to kiss me. Not his usual sloppy kisses. I mean, he still tastes like sour beer and cigarettes. A mint would seriously improve the situation. But his lips are soft, and the tongue is minimal, and if I didn’t know better I might think Kyle actually did like me.

We reach his car and he opens the door for me. But it isn’t the front door. I look back at the house we came from. It’s only a block away, and other cars are parked nearby. Not an ideal amount of privacy. But at least his windows are tinted.

I get in the backseat. Kyle climbs in after me and locks the doors. Only our knees are touching. Just like that first drive in Will’s Mustang.

He slides closer. From here, we can’t hear the music from the party. Inside the car it’s silent.

“Do you know how sexy you are?” he whispers.

It’s a yes-or-no question without any good answer. But he doesn’t expect an answer; he expects something else. His lips are by my ear, and all I have to do is turn my head.

I turn my head. Kyle’s mouth hovers over mine a second longer, then he’s kissing me. His fingernails graze up my thigh. His palm folds over my hip, then slides between my legs. I push his hand back down to my knee and look out the side window.

My heart starts to race. Not in a happy, swept-off-my-feet kind of way. Anxious. Like when I let Sadie copy answers from my math quiz last semester. Like I shouldn’t be doing this.

But I just need to calm down. Let go and drown those voices out. Because being here is still better than facing what’s waiting at home.

Kyle starts kissing my neck. The same way that gave me that hickey. I don’t want another hickey.

My lips crush against his again, and I squeeze my eyes shut because I’m not sure what it says about me that I keep my eyes open when I kiss him.

But with my eyes closed, it only makes it easier to think about other things. To remember other moments in time. Like Declan’s final night in Carson last August.

He’d spent the whole day with Cory, and the three of us went out for an early dinner. Once the last slice of pizza was gone, we dropped Cory off at home, but Declan and I kept driving.

I’d tried to savor that summer, tried to appreciate every moment of time I had left with my boyfriend. But that night the clock had run out and we were desperate to escape. Someplace better than the backseat of a car.

We’d both grown too tall to stand up inside the tree house we built five years earlier in the woods near the quarry, so Declan spread a blanket across the floor. The space was just big enough for us to lie down diagonally.

It was pouring out, and every now and then a raindrop would slip through the cracks in the wooden ceiling. One landed on my cheek, and Declan wiped it away with his thumb. He kept his hand there, wrapped around my jaw, until I turned and planted a kiss in his open palm.

I watched Declan’s breath become heavier, his eyes darker, and his smile dissolve into something hungrier. His hold on me shifted, his thumb grazing across my bottom lip. Then our mouths were melting together.

The best kiss of my life.

My hands skated down his back, then pulled on his belt buckle. His hands were tangled in my hair and then skimming all the way down my thigh and back up again, taking my skirt with it.

Everything he did felt so good, and I wanted more of it.

“Do you—” My lips were covered by Declan’s again, then he moved his kiss under my jaw. “Condom?”

He paused with his mouth on my neck. He pulled back and blinked down at me. Blood rushed to my cheeks, and he kissed me again, slower than before.

“Yes.”

Of course, I already knew that would be his answer because come on. He’d even tidied up the freaking tree house. But once I’d said it that meant it was expected, and I didn’t want to think anymore so I sat up and pulled my dress over my head.

Declan’s gaze trailed over me. With trembling fingers, I started to unbutton his shirt. Before I could finish, he pulled it over his head and tossed it next to my dress. When he kissed me again, all of the urgency from earlier had dissolved.

His skin was hot against my torso and I could feel his heartbeat orchestrating with mine. His fingers grazed all the way up from my knee, and then he was making me feel like only he could.

A moan escaped, and I gripped the back of his neck tightly, pulling his mouth harder onto mine. Doubts drifted away as his hand moved faster and the world caught fire and I carved his initials onto every tree on the planet.

But I was still so nervous. I couldn’t catch my breath. And Declan could tell.

“We don’t have to do this.”

“I want to. I’ve always wanted it to be you.”

I reached for him again and he pulled back, catching my hand and kissing my knuckles.

“We’ll wait. Until we’re both ready.”

That was the first promise we made each other. And I’ve kept it. Because I don’t know if I’ll ever belong with anyone the way I belonged with him.

But it’s Kyle’s hand pushing my skirt up now. I grab his wrist again. “Don’t.”

“What’s the matter?”

I’m not sure what else to say. I don’t know why I’m even stopping him.

He isn’t Declan
.

It’s a ridiculous thought. Declan isn’t available. And what happened between us is so far in the past, it’s like it happened between two completely different people. We’ve been broken up longer than we were even together. I have to let it go.

“Is it that time of the month?”

I jump at the out Kyle’s given me. “Yeah. Sorry.”

He looks mildly disappointed, but recovers quickly. “No problem.”

His hand moves up to my waist, pulling me closer. He kisses me again, and I try to feel something. Anything that will keep me in this moment and out of my head.

Kyle leans back until I’m half on top of him. He twirls my hair around his hand, then he’s touching the crown of my head. No, not touching.

Pushing.

Applying pressure the way no guy who respected me ever would. Trying to take things the way Declan never, ever did.

I look up, and his expression catches me by surprise. He looks nervous.

I’ve already put him off for weeks. Kept making him wait, giving him hope every time I whispered,
Not yet
. I’ve gone that far a couple of times before with guys from school; it wouldn’t have to be a big deal. I should just get it over with.

Except I don’t want to. I never really did. I slide back across the seat and straighten my clothes, then open the car door.

“Where are you going?”

“Away.”

I’m standing on the sidewalk, trying to get my bearings. It’s dark out and my head is still spinning and I want to go home, but I don’t know anyone else at the party well enough to ask for a ride.

Kyle climbs out of the backseat. “Sloan, come on. Don’t be like this.”

I think Main Street is a few blocks north of here. I can walk to Frank’s Diner and figure things out from there.

Kyle grabs my arm. “Okay, I’m sorry—”

I yank out of his grip. “Leave me alone.”

“Jesus, you’re so melodramatic. Get back in the car.”

“No.”

“Just get in. I’ll take you home.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He smirks and looks back at the party. “Whatever. Your call.” He starts walking toward the house. For a split second, I start to panic. Wondering whether I should just follow him. But I don’t need him. I never did.

I pull out my phone and call Cory. No answer. With a sigh, I dial Graham’s number next.
This will be a fun ride home.

I listen to it ring. Six, seven, eight times. Then voice mail. And Sadie is who knows where, no doubt too drunk to drive. As a last resort, I try Gwen. She doesn’t pick up either. I’m out of friends.

Except maybe one. But there is absolutely no way I can call him for help.

So I start walking.

IT’S THAT TIME OF NIGHT
that’s too late for dinner and too early for the after-hours crowd. Frank’s Diner is empty.

Frank’s is an old car garage that was rehabbed into a diner. It has a fifties-era vibe to it, and a menu that spans six pages. The huge carport doors are raised tonight, allowing the humid air to waft in.

I slide into a booth near the front and order a coffee.

I set my phone on the table and stare at the screen, sending Cory a telepathic message that he needs to call me back. I’m still two miles from my house. I would just walk, but it’s really dark out now. And I’m wearing a skirt. And that voice in my head is screaming at me not to be an idiot.

More of an idiot.

I was kidding myself with Kyle. I keep ending up with these guys who don’t give a shit about me, who just use me to get what they want. And I guess I was using Kyle, too. It just didn’t work.

I think Graham might have been right before. He basically called me a coward and, given how the rest of tonight has played out, I’m finding it real hard to build my case against the idea. For so long, I’ve been fixated on all the things I can’t control. Mom’s cancer, her hair falling out, the days she’s too sick to get out of bed. Natalie dying, Declan leaving, the rumors people whisper behind my back.