Authors: Nicole Williams
Crash (26 page)
“Don’t worry, my parents aren’t home,” he said, mistaking the apprehension written on my face.
The fact that we were totally alone in this mini-hotel did not ease my mind, but I didn’t want to hang out in his car all day and I wanted to return to school even less, so I stepped out and shut the door.
“So this is your place?” I said, using my hand to shield my eyes to take a closer look. “Then your dad’s Bon Jovi?”
Sawyer laughed. “Nope. My dad’s not nearly that cool. He just owns a few car dealerships in the state.”
That explained the fancy car Sawyer drove.
“Come on,” he said, tilting his head towards the house. “Let’s get you some ice cream therapy, and then we’ll talk.”
“I can guarantee, even if that whole house is filled with ice cream,” I said, following him, “it wouldn’t be enough therapy to cure me.”
“How about I’ll pick up where the ice cream leaves off?” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me along.
Because I didn’t know which other way to go, I followed him.
“Your ice cream’s melting,” Sawyer said, looking down at the bowl between us.
I slipped my toes deeper in the sand, wrapping my arms around my legs. “I told you inside, I’m not in the mood for ice cream.”
“Something so bad ice cream can’t fix it?” he said, tossing a rock into the lake. “Okay, let’s talk.”
“Not in the mood.”
“Of course you’re not,” he said. “That’s why you need to. Once you get it out of your system, you’ll feel better.”
“I doubt it.” Talking wouldn’t change what I’d seen.
“Let’s give it a shot. I’ll even get the conversation ball rolling.” He slid his sunglasses on top of his head and took a deep breath. “I’m guessing this has something to do with Jude and Holly?”
Hearing their names together was ten times worse than just hearing her name. “Is this the part where you sneer
I told you so
at me?” I snapped. “Because I’ll save you the trouble.” I looked over at him. “Yeah, you were right. You told me so. Jude’s still with Holly.” That lump in my throat returned. I was so sick of it I wanted to reach down my throat and manually remove it.
Sawyer sighed, shaking his head. “How did you find out?”
“I followed the bastard to her trailer park last night. She has a baby, Sawyer,” I said, grabbing a rock and hurling it into the lake. “They have a baby together and he didn’t feel the need to mention any of this to me.” My voice was breaking, about to snap, and the tears were finally flowing. “They have a cute, teething, precious little baby and he didn’t tell me.” Each word was its own sentence since I was doing the sobbing while trying to talk thing.
“Ah, hell, Lucy.” Sawyer draped his arm over me. “I’m sorry. This is exactly the reason I tried to tell you early on about her, before you and Jude got too involved. I knew it would tear you up when you found out.”
“I trusted him, Sawyer,” I cried. “I trusted him. And he lied to me. What kind of screwed up is that?”
He slid my wet, matted hair behind my ear. “Some people just thrive off manipulating others, you know? We search for some deeper, honorable explanation, but some people are just messed up.”
Even as he said the words I knew should be true, some piece of me couldn’t buy into them. Jude wasn’t the cruel type, he’d lied to me for some deeper reason, but I couldn’t invest the time necessary to uncover it. I was officially burnt out on all things Jude. I had no other choice but to cut him loose. And I’d never wanted to take back a decision more.
“Well, you were right. And I was wrong. And Jude and I are finished,” I said, getting a hold of myself. “That’s a chapter in my life I want to close the book on and never open again.”
“Sounds like you need a fresh start,” he said, dropping his arm now that the only effect of the hysterics was a red, puffy face.
“I’ll take two,” I said, wiping the mascara likely smeared beneath my eyes.
“I know this might seem sudden, but hear me out,” he began, turning in the sand to face me. “The Sadie Hawkins dance is next weekend, and I’ve already told three girls no because I lied and said I was already going with another girl.”
He was right, this was about a hundred miles per hour too fast. “Sawyer,” I warned, about to stand up.
“Wait,” he said, grabbing my knee. “Just hear me out on this before you say anything.”
I sat back down and waited.
“So now I’m in a jam because if I don’t show up, these three poor girls will know I gave them the brush off, and if I show up with some other girl, they’re going to know I lied.”
“Wait,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Who exactly did you tell them you were going with?”
I already knew the answer. “You,” he said, having the decency to look ashamed.
“Sawyer,” I groaned, rocking in the sand. “My life is complicated enough without you making it more so.”
“I know and I’m sorry, but here’s part two of you hearing me out.” He took in a breath and squared his shoulders. “I like you, Lucy. More than I should and a hell of a lot more than you like me. I’ve been biding my time, waiting for you to wake up and smell the Jude heartache, and now that you have, I know at least half a dozen guys are going to be standing in line at your locker tomorrow morning.” He paused, judging me for my reaction, but I still wasn’t sure how to react. “Would you do me a favor and just give me a shot? One shot, and go to Sadie Hawkins with me. I swear I’ll behave like we are nothing more than friends and maybe, if you feel the same way, we could figure this thing out together.”
Every acceptable response escaped me.
“For me, Lucy? Just this one thing, and if you still feel the way you do now, I promise I’ll leave you alone.” For the first time, Sawyer’s bronzy skin didn’t look so golden. He looked pale, and scared, and vulnerable. “I don’t want to live my life with regrets, and I know I would regret it every damn day of my life if we didn’t at least give us a chance.”
My life had officially just become a daytime soap opera.
Because Sawyer was a friend, and had had my back from the very beginning despite me going off on him on numerous occasions, and because I felt indebted to him, I said, “Fine. We’ll go to Sadie’s together.”
The color poured back into his face. “We’ll have a blast, I promise,” he said. “And I can assure you, I don’t have any love children I’m keeping a secret.”
I leveled him with my glare.
“Sorry,” he said, “that was in bad taste.”
“Exceptionally.”
He grabbed my hand, his fingers weaving through mine. “Let’s give this thing a shot, Lucy. Nice and slow and see what happens.”
“Nice. And. Slow,” I reiterated because I knew Sawyer had it all on paper. He was what drove women to cat fight and to drink and to swoon. He had it all: looks, money, personality, but he didn’t have one thing yet. And that was my heart.
“We’ll walk before we run,” he said, squeezing my hand. “We’ll walk before we run.”
Sawyer and I walked right through Sadie Hawkins. Were still walking into November and pushing a twelve minute mile jog by December. By Sawyer’s standards, I was fairly certain he was ready to run, maybe even go the distance, but I wasn’t anywhere close to that.
Sawyer wouldn’t be my first, but I also knew I didn’t want him to be my last, so then, what was the point? I didn’t get into bed with a guy just because we’d reached that stage in our relationship. It had to feel right; I had to be able to see myself with him months or maybe even years down the road.
I might be Sawyer’s girlfriend, but I pictured someone else’s face when he had me pinned against a couch. I saw another face when I looked at him period. Jude skipped a few days of class after our parking lot explosion, then showed up one night at a football game and hadn’t missed a day since.
I saw him every day in the halls and a couple of times around town, but he didn’t see me. He hadn’t spared one look my way since that day, and I never knew that kind of rejection could hurt the way it did. I reminded myself every morning what he’d lied about, what he’d failed to mention, and every night I wound up thinking about the way his eyes would lighten right before he kissed me.
Jude Ryder took up residence in my soul and I couldn’t find a way to evict him.
The song on the radio came to an end, that damn song the DJs overplayed on purpose because someone down at the station knew it made me all nostalgic and longing for Jude when they played it.
“I’ll fix you,” I said, looking down to punch the radio off.
In the space of one detoured glance, a piece of scrap wood bounced off the back of some ramshackle truck, landing in my lane. Without any time to respond, the Mazda smashed over the shard of wood, and almost immediately I felt it.
“Damn it,” I cursed, not able to understand how an arm’s length sliver of wood could bring down a two ton moving piece of metal. Nature was fighting back against industry, one tire at a time.
And then a familiar rubber flopping against metal sound echoed through the cab.
“Double damn,” I said, knowing I had a spare in the back, but that was all I knew about changing a tire. That’s why god invented man—so women wouldn’t have to get grease under their manicures.
Pulling onto the shoulder, I scanned up and down the road, looking for some kind of auto anything shop. Someone must have been smiling down on me because not even fifty feet away was a sign that read
Premier Auto Repair
in front of a blue and gray painted building with three open bays.
“Thank. You,” I offered up to whoever was listening.
I coaxed the Mazda forward, cringing as the flop-flop-flopping got louder. I really hoped my entire wheel wasn’t going to fly off, but if it was, at least the professionals were close by.
A man in his mid-twenties, sporting a bowling shirt, walked out of one of the bays. More of his face was covered in grease than not. Waving his hand, he motioned me over, pointing at the empty first bay.
A nearby auto shop and a helpful employee. I’d just gotten a call from the miracle network.
Once the Mazda was inside, I got out, wanting to inspect the damage.
“Let me guess,” the guy said, wiping his hands off with a cloth. It didn’t look like it did any good. “The other guy won.” Crouching down to take a look at my wheel, he shook him head.
“Sharp projectiles hurling themselves into soft, manmade materials generally do,” I replied, kneeling beside him.
“Words to live by,” he said, slapping the tire and standing up. “Let’s get this taken care of for ya, honey.”
“Thank you,” I said, standing. “No rush, but any idea how long this might take?” I’d been on my way to the dance studio, hoping to get a full Saturday of dancing in, but it looked as if my plans might be changing.
“You’ll be in and out in a jiff, hon,” he said, motioning to someone inside the office area. “I’m going to put my best man on it.”
And then, inexplicably, goose bumps rose over my arms, and everything around me got warm and bright.
“Hey, Jude,” the guy hollered, “get your ass out here and help this cute little thing out.”
I could see him through the back windows, his back to the garage, talking on the phone with someone. He hung up the phone and turned around. I’d never before seen a smile disappear so fast. It was a world record, thanks to me.
Then, squaring his shoulders, he marched out of the office, coming around the back of the car.
“What’s the problem, Damon?” Jude asked, staring at the car, refusing to look at me.
“Girl had a run in with a nasty piece of junk,” Damon shouted over, his head hidden in the hood of the truck next to us. “Fix whatever needs done. It’s on the house.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” I hollered over at Damon.
Peeking his head out, he looked at me purposefully. “Yeah, it is.”
I would have gone back and forth a few more rounds with him, but when Jude breezed by me without so much as a hello, I knew my fight was needed elsewhere.
“Hey, Jude,” I said, walking a few steps towards where his back was to me, inspecting the tire.
Shoving into a stand, he walked by me, lips sealed shut and eyes dead ahead. He popped the trunk open and pulled the spare free.
“You’ve really got this whole silent thing down,” I called after him. “Good for you, you’ve proved your point that you absolutely disdain me,”—disdain might have been a tad generous for the way Jude ignored me—“but you’re really not going to say hi?”
Pausing at the end of a bay, he grabbed a lever. “Hi,” he said with no inflection. “Now scoot the hell back so I can get your tire fixed and you can be on your way.”
Wow. It was worse than I thought. Jude didn’t disdain me—he hated me. However, I didn’t hate him and I wasn’t going to pretend I did.
“I heard you got a full ride to just about any university of your choice,” I said, hollering over the lift as the Mazda went up.