A Son of Carver (Carver High #2) (20 page)

“I’m sorry,” she says, still standing where my dad left her.

“Oh, yeah? What are you sorry for?” I ask, staring at her with the force of all my pissed off anger that’s suddenly boiled to the surface.

She looks at me, her big scared eyes all shiny with tears. “God damn it, Presley. Don’t look at me like that. I’m pissed at you.”

“I know,” she says, a single tear falling down her cheek which she quickly wipes away.

“Gah,” I groan, standing and getting to her in one large stride. I wrap her up in my arms and I’m pissed at myself that I can’t stay mad at her no matter what kind of bullshit she pulls. But then her body clings to mine and I don’t really give a shit anymore. I hold her tightly, feeling her body shaking against my chest, her head tucked tightly into my arm. I’ll hold her for as long as she needs me to but I’m not gonna brush this under the rug.

When her body stops trembling, she pushes out of my hold and steps away from me. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I need you so much. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to look at you without breaking down and crying. I’m sorry that I let you hold me and comfort me and listen to me and make me laugh. I’m sorry that here, with your family, is becoming the first refuge I’ve ever had in this town. I’m sorry that despite all this, I’m too afraid to admit to anyone how much you mean to me.”

God damn her. How the hell am I supposed to stay mad at this girl? I grab a hold of her hand and lead her to the couch. She sits down and I intentionally sit a few feet away from her. “Have you figured out why that is?” I ask her.

“Well, yeah. I’m a total coward. And I’m terrified of being alone. Of having nowhere to escape and no one to distract me from my life.”

I look at her blankly. I don’t really get it.

“They wouldn’t understand, Nash. They would lose their respect for me. They would think I’ve fallen under your spell. Things would change. And honestly, I can’t handle anymore change.”

I shake my head at her. “Because you’re willing to be friends with me?”

She sucks in a breath and runs her hands up and down her face. “You don’t understand what it’s like with them. I mean, Tatum doesn’t hate you or anything but she’s never gonna believe that you’ve changed. And Angel… he seriously doesn’t like you.”

“The feelings mutual, but I don’t take it personally that you’re in love with guy.”

“I’m not in love with him,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Whatever. You know what I mean.”

“But he never did anything to you.”

“And I did something to him?”

“To Tatum. But besides that, he just thinks you are the epitome of the sexist disrespectful
guy
and he’s never gonna see what I do. He’s only gonna see what you’ve been to every girl in our school and I don’t know if I could change their minds even if I tired.”

“And what about me?”

She cocks her had at me, not understanding.

“You’re not willing to lose them, but what about me? Are you willing to lose me?”

She looks down at her hands and takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“But…?” I prod.

“Don’t get mad at me,” she says, peeking up at me.

“I’ve tried, Presley. I’ve tried really hard to be mad at you but you make it damn near impossible.”

The corner of her mouth lifts in a smile, but disappears just as quickly. “I don’t want to lose you but I don’t even know if I really have you. I mean, I don’t understand our friendship. I don’t understand if I’m just some pet project to you, or if you’re hanging around me because of this stupid photography class, or if it’s because Nick lets me hang out with you guys, or if I just guilt you into it because I’m always on the brink of disaster. But with Angel and Tatum I know what I have. They’re my friends, the first ones I made here. And we’re friends because we like hanging around each other more than we like hanging around anyone else in this school, and we have the same sense of humor and the same opinions on most things. It’s simple and uncomplicated and we’re friends. Period. But with you… I don’t understand it. And I don’t know if it’s permanent or temporary and clearly you don’t need me like I need you and you have all kinds of people and things in your life and I’m just waiting for you to get bored, or distracted or whatever. So, I mean, if it was a choice, I guess I’d have to choose them.”

“Just FYI, I’m not an asshole like some other people in your life, so I would never make you choose. And I agree with you – I don’t really understand what’s going on between us. But this is the third time I’ve tried to write you off because you keep doing things that piss me off beyond belief, and I fail every god damn time because, whether I like it or not, I can’t walk away from you. And if you choose to walk away from me I have a feeling that whatever I have with you is still gonna be permanent. For me. There’s never gonna be another Presley Knox in my life.”

She stares at me for a few moments before letting out a long breath and shaking her head. “I don’t understand you, Nash. I don’t understand why you would want to keep putting up with my crap. I mean, I’m either crying or being a total bitch.”

“That’s not true. I may not share your sense of humor like your other two b.f.f., but you make me laugh all the time. You’re currently my favorite person to be around and it’s not because I like being abused by you or watching you hurt.”

“Ugh,” she lets out a frustrated groan. “I just keep messing this friendship up.”

“Should we start over again?”

“Third times a charm?”

“God. Let’s hope so. I’ve never had to work so hard on any relationship
. Ever
.”

She laughs. It’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh tonight and I realize I crave it. I crave her smiles and her laughter like a drug that I’m totally addicted to.

“So what happened tonight? Why aren’t you with Angel?”

“Because Nash, after what he said… and what I didn’t… I just couldn’t think about anything… but you. I really did come here to apologize.”

“So you told him you didn’t want to hang out with him because you couldn’t stop thinking about me?”

She starts chewing on her nail and mumbles, “No. I told him my dad did something to upset my mom and I didn’t think it was a good night for him to meet her.”

I reach over and pull her fingers out of her mouth and can’t seem to let them go. “Did something else happen?”

“No. But, I mean, I never told him about the whole divorce thing in the first place so technically I wasn’t lying.”

I stare at her questioningly. “Why haven’t you told him about that? Doesn’t he want to know why you’ve been so upset since Saturday?”

“I told him I was sick.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

She flares her nostrils. “I don’t want him to know how fucked up I am. How messed up my life is. So I choose to not tell him everything.”

“That’s stupid, Presley. All it will do is bring you guys closer. I mean, besides this whole boyfriend thing, didn’t you just tell me he’s your best friend?”

She shrugs her shoulders.

“So it’s not just me that’s the problem? You’re scared he’ll walk away from you if you’re not completely normal and happy? And you’re afraid he’ll leave you if you tell him you’re not comfortable with him touching your body? And me. You’re afraid he’ll leave you if he finds out you’re stupid enough to be friends with me. Jesus, Presley, he sounds like a super great friend. No wonder you’re so scared to lose him.”

“Or maybe I just want to feel normal. Maybe I just want someone to look at me without pity. Maybe I want to pretend that all this shit in my life isn’t really happening and that I’m comfortable being intimate with him.”

“You’ve told me everything and I don’t look at you with pity.”

“Not usually, but sometimes you look at me like it’s physically painful. Like you can’t stand the words coming out of my mouth.”

“It is painful sometimes, Presley. Because I want to help you. And you wouldn’t let me. And even now, that you let me help, most of the time I don’t know how to.”

“I don’t want to need help. I’m not used to needing help. I never needed it before I came here,” she says, sounding completely drained.

This is becoming a constant struggle – trying to decide if I should say what I want to her, even though it might help her and Angel’s relationship. I mean, I don’t really want to help him get closer to her. But I do want her happy and if he’s the guy she wants then I’m not gonna stand in her way. I’ve done that before and it didn’t really turn out in my favor. “All that shit I said to you before… about him avoiding relationships because they would be too complicated and not rewarding enough… I was probably wrong about that.”

She lets out a disbelieving bark, but doesn’t comment.

“He obviously cares about you. I mean, if he was stupid enough to tell me off when he knows damn well I could have kicked his ass if I felt like it, just to defend you, then he wants to be good for you. And if he’s taking all this time away from studying and practicing music to try and hang out with you
every god damn night
, then you’re obviously more important to him than anything else. If you’re trying to make this work with him then you need to be honest so when you’re acting like a bitch he doesn’t take it personally but understands that you’re dealing with a lot at home. And when you cringe because he put his hands on you, he’ll understand why and go slow with you. And you won’t have to avoid being alone with him because I can guarantee he’s not gonna come up with the reason why that is on his own. If you’re scared to tell him that we’re friends… whatever. Really, that’s a non-issue at this point. But that other shit… it’s serious and you should be comfortable talking to him about it.”

“You’re right. I know you are. I just feel like this couldn’t have happened at a worse time. And as much as I love who he is as a person, there’s also part of his brain that doesn’t see things like I do… or like you do. Things are black and white to him. He doesn’t have grey. He doesn’t understand grey.”

“Just because he doesn’t understand grey, it doesn’t mean that you have to pretend there is none or that grey isn’t currently a huge part of your life.”

She stares at me, a slight shake to her head. “I would like to know when, exactly, you became the voice of reason in my life.”

I laugh. “I’ve always given good advice, Presley. I just don’t usually take it.”

She smiles a lazy smile and breaths long and hard. “Maybe we should give my advice skills a try. Maybe we should talk about you.”

“I’m actually feeling pretty stable at the moment, thanks though,” I tell her because the only thing that’s really messing with my life right now is her. Plus, I already have a therapist. Her name is Summer Brooks.

“Fine, Mr. Perfect. Tell me about your date then. Who’s the blonde and why was she with you and not on a beach shooting for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition?”

“Are you jealous?” I ask, wagging my eyebrows at her.

“No. I am curious though, where do you bring your dates? You’re looking all dapper.”

“Well I definitely don’t bring my first dates straight to my bedroom like some guys we know,” I tell her, feeling like an ass for saying it. But it’s true. I love what a hypocrite he is. And I wonder if she even sees it.

“Funny.”

“Really? I don’t really think it’s that funny. Especially when, according to him, I’m the slut who only sees women as pieces of meat.”

“It wasn’t really a first date. I mean, we hang out all the time.”

“So he’s taken you out to eat… to a movie… something?”

“Okay. You’re giving me whiplash. Does he care about me or is he just trying to have sex with me?”

“Both.”

“And why are we talking about me again? We’re talking about you. Where’d you guys go?”

“I took her out to eat at Green Haven.”

“The country club? Jesus, you must really like the girl.”

I shrug my shoulders. “It was our second date. Too early to say.”

“Well I gotta say… I’m impressed.”

“I’m a pretty good boyfriend, maybe even an award winning one.”
Damn it
. I don’t like the kid and I can’t pass up easy digs at him.

“So she’s your girlfriend?”

“Second date, Presley.”

“How’d you meet her?”

“Summer set us up.”

“What,” she practically screams.

“Is that weird?” I ask, screwing up my face at her.

“I don’t know, is it?”

“Ah… no? Why would it be?”

“Okay, seriously. What the hell is going on with the two of you? Are you the only two people in the entire school who can’t see the sexual tension there? Because it’s palpable. And why are you two so damn secretive if there’s not something you’re trying to keep secret?”

I laugh at her sudden burst of questions. “We do have a secret.” I watch as her eyes pop out and she leans into me. “We have this place that we go to a couple of times a week. Where we… talk. And drink. But mostly talk.”

“Are you serious? You just… talk to her?”

“Why is that surprising? What exactly do I do when I’m with you? Because I swear to god, that’s all we do is fucking talk. And talk… and talk…” I tell her with a smile so she knows I don’t actually mind it.