What If (23 page)

I just let her walk away without a word, and then I never saw her again. I only heard her screaming at her parents that night. And I still can’t remember the details. So this is the last image I have of Nicole, until Nyelle.

I slide my hands on either side of Nyelle’s face. Her eyes shine and her cheeks are red and raw from the tears. “He had a hard life. And you were one of the best things to happen to him.”

I lower my mouth to hers and press against it, holding the kiss for a long breath before pulling away.

“Thank you,” she whispers, resting her cheek on my chest and wrapping her arms around me tightly. “He’s been waiting to go for a long time. I knew this was coming. But it still sucks.” She releases a drawn breath.

“Yeah, it does,” I say into her hair. I hold her until she eases away. When she looks up at me, I stroke her damp cheeks with my thumbs to dry her tears. “What can I do to make you feel better? Ice cream? Marshmallows? Chips? A hot shower in the dark?”

She laughs lightly. “I’ll be okay.” She stands and starts for the bedroom. I jump up. I don’t want her to go in there. Not now.

“How about we go away?” I say in a rush.

“What?” Nyelle turns around.

“Let’s get out of Crenshaw,” I suggest, my pulse thrumming.

“Where do you want to go?”

I grin at the intrigue reflecting in her eyes. “Uh… Oregon. My uncle’s cabin. He’s going hiking this weekend. We’ll have the place to ourselves. And… there isn’t any snow.”

She laughs. “A cabin in the woods, just the two of us for a weekend?”

“Or the rest of the week,” I offer. “Up to you. He won’t care. And I can work for him in the garage while I’m there. I could use the money.”

Nyelle bites her lower lip in thought. Then she slowly smiles and says, “Okay. Let’s spend the rest of the week in Oregon.”

She reaches for my bedroom door, but I rush to intercept her. “I’ll get our bags. Why don’t you… get your things from the bathroom?”

Nyelle eyes me suspiciously. “Are you hiding something in there?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I answer evasively. “Let me pack a bag, and we’ll leave.”

“Right now?” she questions, still scrutinizing me.

“Yeah. Why not? We’ll catch the next flight out, even if we have to fly standby and take a couple layovers to get there.”

“You know you’re being weird right now, right?”

I nod. “I know. But it’ll make sense later. I promise.”

Nyelle keeps her narrowed eyes on me as she slowly walks to the bathroom, like she’s worried I’ve lost my mind. Which is very possible. “Okay.”

When she’s safely behind the bathroom door, I slip into my room to pack.

May—Junior Year of High School

“Can you believe he just told me like it was no big deal?” Richelle screams into her pillow as I rub her back, trying to calm her down.

Her face is red and damp with tears when she lifts it from the pillow.

I want to say I’m sorry. I want to tell her that Lily doesn’t mean anything to Cal. They already broke up. I want to tell her anything that will make her feel better.

But more than that, I wish I was screaming into that pillow alongside her.

“I’m being such a girl. I know it,” she says, sniffling. “But it hurts. And I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“I know,” I console. And I do. My chest felt like it was being crushed when I found out. And then when I arrived and saw Richelle’s face, it only made it worse. So I try to be the best friend that she needs and not the heartbroken girl I am, and listen to her cry as she spills her hurt on her pillow.

Richelle inhales, trying to calm her stuttering breaths. She eases herself up to sit, holding the pillow to her chest.

“Do you know what hurts the most?”

I wait.

“That he didn’t even hesitate to tell me. He obviously thinks of me as just a friend. I know I told him that’s what I wanted when I broke up with him. But I didn’t mean it. I just couldn’t tell him…”

“I know,” I say when her voice cracks. “You love him and he doesn’t know it.”

“What if he could never feel that way about me?” She sniffles, crushed. “I don’t know what to do. Maybe I shouldn’t talk to him anymore. It hurts too much. ”

“Richelle, you’re hurting right now. But you can’t stop talking to him.”

“Why not? You have.”

“But that’s—”

“Because of me,” she interrupts.

“No. I was going say, that’s
my
choice. Don’t let him go like I did.”

Because I regret it every day.

“You’ve packed enough sugar to last a month,” I remark as Nyelle tries to zip her backpack around the bag of marshmallows sticking out of the top.

“You said we’ll be in the middle of nowhere,” she says, smiling proudly when she’s finally able to close the bulging bag.

“And that’s all you’re planning to eat?” I ask, throwing my duffel bag over my shoulder. “Besides, I was going to stop by a store on our way to the cabin.”

“Now you don’t have to,” she gloats, putting on her jacket.

I laugh, waiting for her by the door. “Yeah, I do. I can’t eat like you. I need something that grows out of the ground every once in a while.”

Nyelle rolls her carry-on behind her down the hall. “Will your uncle be there when we get in?”

“No. He’s leaving this afternoon to meet up with the guys he’s climbing with. I called and told him we’re coming, though. He’s leaving the light on.”

We step outside into the instant freeze. I start the truck, shivering, wishing I’d let it heat up.

“You never told me what you did for him.” Nyelle cuddles up close to my side to get warm.

I pull out of the parking lot and wrap my arm around her shoulder. “He custom designs and rebuilds motorcycles.”

I don’t notice until after we’re driving away that Nyelle’s gawking at me.

“What?”

“You. And motorcycles? Really?”

I eye her curiously. “I don’t get it.”

“That’s kinda hot.”

“I don’t
ride
them,” I clarify. “And I don’t have a single tattoo. There’s nothing really badass about me. I just happen to know how to use a socket wrench.”

“Don’t ruin this for me,” Nyelle says. “Let me hold on to this image for just a minute longer.” She closes her eyes with a grin.

I laugh. “What’s so sexy about a guy on a motorcycle anyway?”

Truth. My mother would
kill
me if I ever rode any of the bikes I help construct. Her uncle died in a crash when she was young, and she won’t let any of us even consider riding. Even my brothers are afraid to go against that rule.

“I don’t know. It just is. Unless he’s a cocky douche. Or three hundred pounds. That’s just… Ew.” She exaggerates a shiver.

“That didn’t really explain anything,” I say with a smile. “But I guess it’s a good thing I will never be a three-hundred-pound cocky douche riding a motorcycle.”

“It
is
a good thing.” Nyelle reaches over and turns down the radio.

“Cal?” she asks, leaning in so her head is resting on my chest.

“Yes?” I’m wary of her careful tone.

“You never told me what makes you walk away from all the girls you’ve dated.”

“I thought we already had this conversation,” I say, not exactly sure what she’s looking for. I walk away because it’s what I always do. And it’s easier to do it when there’s nothing to lose.

“We did. Sort of,” she says, playing with the zipper on my jacket. “I just think there’s more to it.”

“Really?” I respond, not willing to agree or disagree. I’d rather not be talking about this at all. But for some reason she keeps bringing it up. I don’t know what she’s hoping to learn about me, other than I get out before it starts getting complicated.

“Yeah, I do. I think when you end things, it isn’t just that they’re not your
what if
girl.”

“Okay,” I say carefully, letting her come to her own conclusions. So far, she’s right.

“You don’t have feelings for them, no matter how much you like them.”

This is starting to get uncomfortable, especially with her sitting under my arm. When I’m quiet, she leans back so she can see my face, forcing me to remove my arm from behind her.

“You know why you do it, don’t you? Why you walk away?”

I grip the steering wheel tighter. “It’s not like it’s a secret I’m trying to keep from you, Nyelle. It’s that I don’t really want to think about these girls, especially since I’m here
with you
. You’re not one of them. And I don’t want you to ever think you are.”

“That’s sweet.” She leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “So tell me.”

I blow out a lungful of air and say, “I don’t want to hurt them.”

She’s quiet. When I glance over at her, a sad smile hangs on her face.

“What?” I ask. “Why does that upset you?”

“You walk away before you can hurt them,” Nyelle says softly. “So… who hurt you?”

I continue to stare straight ahead, not willing to contribute to this conversation anymore. Because what am I supposed to say… you? You and Richelle crushed me within the same summer, and it’s not something I’ve ever gotten over. That’s not about to come out of my mouth. So I don’t say anything.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, wrapping herself under my arm and laying her head on my chest. “I don’t want to…” She doesn’t finish. But I know where that sentence was going.

“It’s okay.” I squeeze her against me and kiss the top of her head. “I’ll be fine.”

We both know how this is going to end. She’s leaving after this week, even though we haven’t mentioned it since the night of the painting. And when she does, it’s going to suck. This isn’t where she belongs. I know that. But then… where
does
she belong? As much as I want that answer to be “with me,” I know it’s not the reality. I’m running out of time. There’s no avoiding it now. This is
definitely
going to suck.

*     *     *

The winding dirt road veers off down a narrower road that ends at the cabin. I park the rental car next to the garage and turn off the engine.

“Nyelle, we’re here,” I tell her softly, running a hand along her cheek.

Her eyes blink open and she looks around. “We’re here?”

“Yeah.”

Henley comes trotting out from behind the cabin, barking and wagging his tail, just as Nyelle opens her door. I step out of the car as she exclaims, “Henley!” Then falls to her knees to receive him. He rushes over to her, licking her face. Nyelle wraps her arms around him, patting his back as he continues to lick her cheek, wagging like crazy.

When she stands, Nyelle is visibly shaken. She grabs on to the passenger door for balance.

“Hey,” I say, jogging around to her. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Nyelle shakes her head to dismiss me, tucking loose strands of her ponytail behind her ear. “I’m fine,” she rasps. She presses her lips together to conceal their trembling as she averts her eyes, scanning the ground.

I reach for her hand, but she quickly pulls it away, turning to shut the door. She appears disoriented as she keeps her hands pressed against the frame of the door for balance.

“Nyelle? What’s going on?” I ask, trying to assess what just happened. Henley rubs against my leg. I look down at him, patting the top of his head. That’s when I know… seeing
him
did this. Henley stays with Zac while I’m at college, and since Zac knew we were going to be here, he decided to leave Henley behind. I never expected Nyelle to react like this when she saw him.

Nyelle turns to me, lost behind vacant eyes. It’s like she’s not really here.

“Do you remember Henley?” I ask cautiously as she reaches for her backpack.

I never thought she was pretending not to know me, or making an effort not to recall things she should’ve known. No one’s that talented of an actor. I just stopped questioning it because I was willing to accept her as she is. Now… I can’t ignore the trembling girl in front of me, accosted once again by a reminder of a past she’s somehow forgotten. I have no idea what to do.

“Sorry. I’m really tired,” she murmurs, running a quivering hand over her hair. “Do you think we can go in?”

“Yeah, sure,” I say, wrapping an arm around her and picking up her bag with the other hand. She leans in to me as we walk toward the house. She’s still shaking, almost as bad as the night I carried her after swimming in the icy lake.

I remove the key from the hook under the stairs and lead Nyelle up to the door. She’s quiet, her gaze still directed on the ground, dazed. I unlock the door and flip on the lights, lighting up the large open space.

I climb the stairs to the room I usually stay in and push the door open for her.

“There’s a bathroom in here too,” I tell her as she slips past me. “I’ll get the rest of the stuff.”

She nods, and I watch her walk into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I have a feeling she didn’t hear anything I said.

I don’t think I can do this. If she has some sort of psychotic break, even worse than she is now, I won’t know how to help her. I should call my mother… or Rae. She can explain everything to my mother better than I can.

I walk around the front of the house in search of a spot to make the call. But the “No Service” message remains lit. Shit.

Henley follows me back into the cabin as I carry in the rest of our things, along with the couple bags of groceries we stopped to get on the way. I take my time putting them away, glancing up at the door on the far end of the landing every so often.

My nerves are shot, and I’m fighting to keep my shit together. But I don’t want to leave her up there alone for too long.

I lock up and shut off the lights before slowly ascending the stairs. I pause outside the door to pull myself together. I can do this—listen to her, hold her, let her scream into a pillow. Whatever she needs. I grab the handle, prepared for full-on female emotions. But I’m not expecting her to be… sleeping.

I brush the hair out of her face, and watch her sleep with her hand resting on the pillow. She looks so peaceful, like nothing in the world could be wrong with her. I wish that were the truth.

Crouching beside her, I run the back of my hand along her cheek. I can’t help but wonder who’s going to be looking at me when her eyes open in the morning. My attention drifts to her hand. The entire side from her knuckle to her wrist is slashed with tiny white lines. “What happened to you, Nyelle?”

*     *     *

Glass shattering has a very distinct sound. Even in my drunkenness, I know exactly what I’m hearing. And it’s loud.

“Maybe I don’t want to be your perfect little girl anymore.” There’s so much anger in her voice, and it comes out strained, like she’s physically pained to say it.

“Nicole, stop!” Mr. Bentley’s deep voice booms from within the house. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I find my feet moving toward the house, but they feel like they’re made of cement. I stumble across their perfectly trimmed lawn.

“Nicole, you’re bleeding all over the floor!” Mrs. Bentley cries.

“Call Dr. Xavier,” Mr. Bentley instructs. “Tell him to use the back door.”

“Did I disappoint you, Daddy?!” Nicole screams, sending ice down my spine.

Suddenly, Mr. Bentley bursts out of the front door. The veins along his forehead stick out as he rushes to his car. Then he sees me, and stops.

“Cal? It’s Cal, correct?”

I nod, trying so hard to appear sober. “Is Nicole okay?”

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “Yes, she’s perfectly fine. Just had a bad night, that’s all. We’re taking care of her. Thanks for your concern.”

“No problem,” I murmur and turn to walk toward the street. I look back over my shoulder when I reach the sidewalk, and he’s still watching me, standing by his car.

“Nicolas?” Mrs. Bentley calls out.

I can still hear Nicole’s hysterical sobs drifting through the dark as I walk away.

*     *     *

As my eyes open, I roll over to find Nyelle’s side empty, forcing me up. With a rush of panic, I’m fully awake. I listen but don’t hear any movement, so I flip back the covers and get out of the bed. It’s just after two in the morning. Where could she be? She’s not in the bathroom. I open the bedroom door. The house is pitch-black.

“Nyelle?” I call out. Nothing.

I turn on the lights as I walk through the house, checking every room, eventually making my way outside. My heart is racing. The dream, or memory, still lingers, and it only fuels the panic.

I walk around to the back of the cabin and stop when I see a strange shape in the grass. When I get closer, I realize it’s Nyelle, with Henley. She’s on her back with her hair splayed around her, looking up at the stars. A hand rests on Henley’s head, which is propped on her stomach.

“Nyelle, what are you doing up?” I ask, still trying to recover. This has seriously been the most stressful night.

She doesn’t shift her eyes away from the stars. “Trying to feel better.”

“Can I lie down with you?” I ask cautiously, needing to do the same. She nods.

My body releases a quick shiver when I lie down on the cool grass. I’m watching her as she stares intently up at the sky like she’s waiting for something to happen. I’m scanning her face, wondering who it is lying beside me.

“I’ve never seen so many stars before,” she says quietly. “A sky full of possibilities and pain. That’s such a contradiction. Maybe they’re just painful possibilities.” Her voice sounds so sad, I almost don’t recognize it as hers. Her mask is cracking, and whatever she’s been hiding behind it is starting to show. I’m not sure how to put her back together.

“What do you need me to do?” I ask. “I’ll do anything. I’m not above freezing to death for you.”

There’s a hint of a laugh, and I know Nyelle is still with me. “It is a little cold, huh? I didn’t really notice.”

“Being with you usually means losing feeling in my limbs. I’ve come to terms with it.”

She reaches over and takes hold of my hand. “But you always feel so warm to me.”

I squeeze her hand and press it to my lips.

“I needed to feel that,” she says softly.

“What?”

“The butterfly.” The word comes out in a whisper.

“What does that mean? That was your wish at the silo, but I didn’t understand.”

“Holding your hand. It makes me feel like there’s a butterfly beating in my chest. There’s something about it that helps me believe everything’s going to be okay.”

“Everything
is
going to be okay,” I assure her, wanting to believe it too.

“I know. I’m sorry,” she says, laughing uncomfortably and quickly swiping away a tear that’s escaped down her cheek. “I’m not supposed to be like this. You shouldn’t have to see it.”