Anywhere But Here (8 page)

I made it through an hour of sorting before I felt myself losing it. Confronting my mother and then Kellen had taken a lot out of me. I felt like a mess, and the only thing waiting at Didi’s for me was another bottle of wine. Or three.

The problem with cutting everyone out back then was that it meant I had no friends here to call now. Well, I had one, but I didn’t know if it would be weird to call her for a girls’ night. I was wishing I’d talked Lizzie into coming with me.

I pulled up the number I’d programmed into my phone earlier today and sent her a text.

Instead of coffee next week, how about drinks tonight?

Several minutes passed, and I resigned myself to drinking wine alone and bingeing Sons of Anarchy on Netflix. I was in my car, debating a stop for Doritos and cookie dough ice cream when thankfully my phone chimed with a text that kept me from junk food misery.

Sure! When and where?

I typed out a response.
I can pick you up at your place at seven.

She replied with her address and I bypassed the grocery store, heading straight to Didi’s to get ready.

Needing the confidence and attitude boost, I squeezed myself into the one dress I brought with me. It was a body hugging number that reached mid thigh. Deep plum lace over a silk slip just a shade lighter, it conformed to every curve of my body. Three-quarter lace sleeves fell almost off the shoulder and dived into a deep V in the back. It was probably overkill for drinks, but I wanted to feel good and cut loose a little tonight.

A little product created tousled waves that fell down my exposed back. I dusted my eyes with smoky greys and rimmed them in black. I finished the look with a soft touch of matte raspberry swirl to my lips and slid my feet into a pair of black heels.

After that it was a just short Uber ride to the apartment complex Trinity lived in.

Thankfully I only had to climb stairs in my heels to the second floor, where I followed numbers on doors until I reached hers and knocked.

She pulled the door open, took one look at me and grinned. “Oh, when you said drinks, you meant
drinks!
”

I laughed. “Too much?”

“Hell no. You look amazing, but I need to change if this is how we’re hitting it tonight.”

“You don’t have to,” I assured her.

“No, it’s alright. I’ll change. Go ahead and have a seat wherever. I’ll be back out in a minute.”

I plopped down on her cushy love seat, and waited while she disappeared inside the bedroom. When she emerged, she’d traded the dark skinny jeans and pink top for a short black dress with a draping neckline, that revealed her impressive décolletage, and red suede heels that matched the color of her freshly applied lipstick.

“Now I’m ready. So what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I was hoping you’d know where the good spots are. I am a little hungry, so I wouldn’t mind grabbing some food, and then maybe some dancing.” I’d left town before I was old enough to know where all the best places were.

“Well, dressed like this it would be a shame to waste it on the places around here, we should head to the clubs downtown in Myrtle Beach. There are a lot of restaurants around there too.”

“Great, then I think we have a plan. I’ll get us a ride.”

Another Uber arrived within ten minutes, and as soon as I got the call from our driver, we hurried downstairs–well hurried for two girls in heels. I almost tripped on the last step and we were both laughing when we pushed our way outside into the chilly night air. David, our driver was waiting out front in his silver Toyota Corolla. Arm in arm we scurried to the car to escape the cool breeze that was raising goosebumps on our arms.

The rumble of a motorcycle sounded as my fingers touched the handle, drawing my eyes when I should have just slid inside and not looked back. It was the same bike I’d admired earlier.

I turned to Trinity. “Your brother is here.” And he wasn’t alone. He had someone on the back of his bike, but her face was obscured by the helmet she wore.

“Uh, yeah. He sort of lives here on the third floor.”

“Oh, so he’s not here for you?”

“Nope, we should probably just go.” She bit her lip anxiously and I started to tell her it was fine. She’d probably heard about our frosty reunion, but before I could reassure her that I wasn’t going to lose it on him again, I became aware of her real motivation for trying to get me out of there.

The person, and I use that term loosely because I’m pretty sure one must possess a soul to actually be a person, smoothly climbed from the back of the bike and removed the helmet. Everyone in this town was lucky that I wasn’t the Hulk, because that’s all it would have taken for me to go green and start destroying everything in my path, starting with her fake tanned ass.

“Let’s just go,” Trinity whispered again and I realized I’d frozen in place.

It just had to be her on the back of his bike.

He climbed off next, no helmet hiding his eyes, and they locked on where I stood next to his sister, unable to just open the damn door and climb inside the car. I’m sure the driver was wondering what the hell was going on, and any second he would leave us standing here, me looking the fool because I was stuck in this painfully familiar moment.

The four of us stood there, eyes darting between each other, no one sure of what to do, except for her. She had no problem giving a little smile and a wave before she curled her hand around his and gave a little tug. It was when he took that first step with her toward the apartment that the moment shattered and self-preservation kicked in.

I yanked the door open and flung myself inside as gracefully as I could manage under the wave of nausea that was hitting me hard.

“Are you okay?” Trinity slid in beside me.

“Yeah,” I managed. “I’m fine, it’s just–” Just what? That I was close to having a full blown meltdown? I was so pathetic and I didn’t know how to explain it to her. “I don’t want you to think– it’s not about him,” I fumbled. “Just her, and seeing–” the two of them together, but I couldn’t get the words out. It could have been anyone else. Anyone but her and I wouldn’t be feeling this right now, but all the betrayal and hurt was rising back up to the surface.

Trinity reached over and placed her hand on top of mine. “It’s okay. I know.”

I looked over at her and saw understanding in her eyes, so maybe she did know why this was so hard for me, why it felt so much like another night.

Shae

September 9

Senior year . . .

“It’s one night, Jeremy,” I breathed out my frustration into the phone. “You don’t have to be a jerk about it. We can hang out tomorrow.”

“Or you could do your homework tomorrow and come over tonight.” We’d been having this argument since I cancelled our plans.

“I already told you, tonight’s the only night that works for him.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Real fucking convenient that the only time he has available is a Saturday night.”

“He has a job, Jeremy.” Something he wouldn’t know anything about.

“Pretty sure drug dealers can set their own hours, Shaeleigh,” he snickered.

“He’s not a drug dealer.” I didn’t think.

“You’re so naïve it’s cute sometimes.” His condescending tone made me want to hang up the phone, but that would have started another fight.

“Whatever, it doesn’t even matter. The only reason he’s coming over is because the library is closed. We’ll work on the project and then he’ll leave.”

“Your mom is home right?”

“Yes,” the lie slipped from my lips before I really had time to think about it. I just didn’t want to fight anymore.

“I still don’t like it,” he grumbled. “I’ll just come over and stay out of the way while you two work, but at least I can keep an eye on him and we can hang out after.”

“No. I’m not going to have our homework session turn into some kind of macho showdown. Just trust me. You have nothing to worry about. He’s only an ass when you’re around because he knows it gets to you.”

“Don’t be stupid babe, the guy’s an ass because it’s who he is. And I trust you, but I definitely don’t trust him.”

I wanted to snap back at him for the
stupid
comment, but let it go for the sake of ending this argument. “Either way, I still have to work with him and it will be easier if you’re not here, antagonizing him or vice versa.”

“Fine. How long is he going to stay?”

“I don’t know. However long it takes. An hour, maybe two. I’ll call you when he leaves.”

“Whatever then, I’m going to Josh’s.”

“Okay . . . have a good time then. Do you still want me to call you later?”

“Yeah, fine. I’ll talk to you later.” He ended the call before I could even say goodbye. He was such an immature jerk sometimes. But I was the one dating him.

I tossed my phone down on the bed, only to pick it back up when it vibrated with a text message. I hoped it was Jeremy apologizing for hanging up on me. Instead it was Cammie.

Have fun. Don’t fuck him. Call me if you do!

I rolled my eyes and typed out a response.

I’m not you, so that’s not going to be a problem.

I tossed it aside again and dug out the materials for the project. She replied again, but I’d check it later. It was after six-thirty now. Kellen would be showing up anytime. I wondered if he’d be hungry since he was just getting off work, or if he’d eat at home since he said he was going to shower.

Should I have food?
Maybe I could order pizza.
All guys liked pizza, right? Or maybe just snacks at least.
Yeah, snacks would be good.

If I didn’t know any better,
I thought as I bounced down the stairs to the kitchen,
I’d say I was nervous.

But I had no reason to be nervous about Kellen Nash–a frustratingly arrogant, alarmingly attractive and exceptionally irritating member of the opposite sex–coming over to my house, when I was home alone, to do homework.

Okay, I was nervous. And a little bit excited, or I don’t know if excited was the right word. Exhilarated maybe. I’d never known anyone like him. Someone so brazen and forward, who constantly kept me guessing what he was thinking or going to say next. I had to be on my toes to keep up with his wit during our verbal sparring matches. It also left me a bit intimidated, which had me feeling anxious as well. He was going to be invading my personal space, and I just knew he would barge right in, etiquette and propriety be damned, and start dissecting my life based on what he saw. What would he see when he walked in here?

For once I was thankful that my mother had no qualms about leaving me to my own devices most nights. I could only imagine how that introduction would go from both ends if she were here. She would reaffirm every WASPy stereotype and pre-conceived notion he had the moment she turned down her nose at him and did what she did best, which was to make the people around her feel small.

I didn’t want him to walk into my house and only see all the differences dividing us that everyone else would be more than happy to point out. Before I could worry about it any further, the doorbell rang. I took a deep breath and told myself to relax. I couldn’t change my last name or where I lived or the parents I was born to, but that wasn’t all that made up who I was. He’d either get that or he wouldn’t, and if he didn’t, then it was his problem, not mine.

Not wanting to leave him standing out there any longer, I hustled to the door, pausing to draw in another deep breath and tuck my hair behind my ears before I answered it. I was met by his typical flippant demeanor.

“I was expecting to be greeted by the butler. I’m a little disappointed I don’t get to call anyone Jeeves.”

“Sorry, no butler. Just me.”

“Somehow I think I’ll get over it.” He winked. “That is if you don’t make me stand out here all night.”

“Right.” I pulled the door open wider and stepped back to let him by, closing the door behind him.

“Nice.” His eyes scanned the foyer.

“Uh, thanks.” I tried to look at it from his perspective, taking in the pristine white and grey marbled floor. The stark white walls, hung with various paintings and artworks. The gaudy gold chandelier overhead and the elegantly curving staircase. It was beautiful, but cold.

“I was in the kitchen, getting some snacks. Do you want anything?”

“Sure. Snacks would be good.”

I led him to our state of the art, custom designed kitchen and then pivoted around. “What would you like?”

“Do you have beer?”

“I, uh . . .”

“Relax, I’m kidding. What do you have?”

“You can check the fridge. Help yourself to whatever and I’ll go see what we have in the pantry.”

I came back with a large bag of the same kale chips I took in my lunch, a tin of some gourmet cookies, rice cakes and some whole grain crackers. Kellen was drinking from a bottle of sparkling juice, rummaging through the contents of our fridge. He closed it and turned when I set my haul on the counter.

“The state of your fridge is dismal.” He took one look at what I’d grabbed. “And I see the pantry isn’t much better.”

“What do you mean?” I frowned. “We have a lot of food.”

“Yeah, healthy shit. Not snacks.”

“Fruits and vegetables are good snacks. Besides, I grabbed cookies.” I grabbed the tin and waved it at him.”

He snatched it from me, popped it open and shoved one of the cookies in his mouth. “Hate to break it to you, but these aren’t cookies. I don’t know what the fuck they are.”

“They’re chocolate, coffee, almond wafers.”

“This is the shit you eat all the time?”

I nodded.

“Shit, now I feel bad for you.” I was about to insist that I liked my food just fine, but he strode toward me with purpose and determination. “This isn’t gonna do. Come on.”

“Come on, where?”

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me after him. “Snack run.”

“I don’t need snacks though,” I skittered after him, my wrist still caught in his grasp. “You can go if you want something different.”

“Nope. If I have to sit here all night and watch you eat that stuff, I’ll be too depressed to get any work done.”

“Fine, then I’ll just go change real fast.” He let my arm go and ran his eyes up and down my body.

“Why do you need to change?”

“I’m not dressed to leave the house.” I hadn’t wanted him to think I put anything special into my appearance for him, so I was in my yoga pants and a Tigers Cheer shirt. I had light make-up on and my hair was pulled into a top knot.

“You look dressed to me.”

“Not to go out.”

He looked at me confounded. “We’re going to the grocery store, not Red Lobster.”

“I know,” he smirked at my annoyed tone, “but there are people at the grocery store. I’m not put together.”

He barked out a laugh. “What exactly do you have to put together? I’ve got some duct tape in my car if you need to hold your shit in place.”

I shoved his shoulder hard. “You’re not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.” Right that’s why he was still laughing. “I’m genuinely concerned for you now.” He cringed. “You’re too young for your shit to be falling apart already. Is it like a medical condition?”

“Is your immaturity a medical condition?” I shot back. “And I can assure you, my
shit
is not
falling apart.” I wasn’t even sure what shit we were referring to, but mine was most assuredly in perfect working order.

“Come on, little miss princess. You’re obviously in desperate need of my help.” He grabbed my hand again and I tried to tug it free, my efforts futile as he dragged me toward the door.

“I am not,” I stomped my feet down but my slippers slid across the marble.

“Yes you are. You need your perfect little bubble burst in a bad way, and it just so happens I’m the perfect guy to do a little popping.” He made a popping sound with his mouth and then the corners turned up in an obscene smile. I didn’t even know a smile could be obscene, but his was, the way his eyes and mouth worked together to convey his thoughts.

“Let’s get one thing very clear. You will not be popping anything.”

“Is that because it’s already been popped?”

My eyeballs about popped out of my head as my face turned cherry red.
Damn it, now I was thinking of cherries.

“That is none of your business,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Okay, okay,” he backed up a step, raising his hands in a placating gesture, while amusement still danced across his features. “Touchy subject, I can tell, but if it makes you feel any better, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Won’t tell anyone what?”

“That you’ve never, you know . . .” He waggled his eyebrows.

“How would you even know? I didn’t answer you.”

“You didn’t have to. Your face did, but don’t worry. I promise your secret’s safe with me. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Of course it’s not,” I exclaimed. “There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin!”

“So you are.” He said in an
aha
voice.

“Agh!” I let out an aggravated cry of frustration and then grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out the door. “You’re impossible.”

“You say impossible, I say charming.” He shrugged ad took over leading me to his car–an old, faded black hunk of metal on four wheels. I didn’t want to insult him by asking if it was safe, but I really was a bit concerned I was about to climb into a death trap.

“I doubt anyone has ever mistaken you for charming,” I snorted, right as he reached for the passenger door and pulled it open for me. Okay, that was kind of a gentlemanly thing to do. Jeremy didn’t open doors for me.

I slid into the passenger seat, making sure it at least had seatbelts, while he walked around and folded himself behind the wheel. He started it up with a loud growl that I wasn’t sure sounded normal, and immediately the stereo blasted to life, the lyrics of a Rise Against song blaring from the speakers. His hand shot out, cranking the volume down to a tolerable level that was less likely to cause deafness.

I started drumming on my leg as he pulled the car out of the circular drive. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced over at me. “You like Rise Against?” His surprise was blatant.

I shrugged. “Am I not allowed to?”

“Well you do listen to Taylor Swift,” he teased.

“Shut up. Don’t hate, T Swizzle is hardcore.”

He laughed and I couldn’t help the smile that broke out on my face. He didn’t give me a bad time for the rest of the drive, content to let the music fill the silence between us. I didn’t mind at all. The closest grocery store to my house was about ten miles, but we almost never shopped there. Mom preferred The Fresh Market in Myrtle Beach. That had nothing to do with why I refused to get out of the car when Kellen pulled into the parking lot of the regular supermarket though.

“You coming?” He ducked his head back inside the car after he’d already gotten out.

“No.” I sat there with my arms folded across my chest.

“Why the hell not?”

“I already told you. I’m not dressed to be out in public. I have slippers on for crying out loud.” I glared at him.

“Not this again,” he sighed, slamming his door, and walked around to mine. He yanked my door open, and before I could react, he’d bent down, un-clicked my belt and hauled me out of the car and over his shoulder.