Falling to Pieces (16 page)

“She didn’t force you on me,” I say. “I would’ve said no if I didn’t want to take you.”

She smiles. “Look, I know you have a thing for Ivy. It’s pretty obvious. But I’m still glad you took me out on your bike. It was amazing.”

“You wanna go again sometime?” I ask, my eyebrows raised.

“I’d love to, but I don’t know.” Her gaze shifts back and forth. “I should probably talk to Ivy about it.”

“I believe this was Ivy’s idea,” I remind her.

“True.” She winks. “Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Just don’t bite too hard,” I tease.

When her cheeks flush, I kind of wish I hadn’t said that. Flirting just comes so naturally to me that oftentimes I do it without thinking. Only I can’t afford to flirt with Ivy’s friend. I’m
only doing this to get under Ivy’s skin, and maybe find out a little information in the process.

17

Ivy

I can’t focus on Tyler at all during our date. All I can think about is Asher and Billie riding around town on his bike. What was I thinking when I suggested that he take her for a ride? I guess I wasn’t. He just threw me by showing up unexpectedly. I never thought he would ever come to my apartment again, let alone to apologize for Cole’s behavior. His p
rotectiveness of me almost made me cave this time. I want to be with him, but Cole’s right about me. I’m no good for Asher, so I need to just let him go.

At the time it seemed like a good plan to push him toward Billie.
It got him away from me, and I know it’s safe. I mean, Billie and Asher will never end up together. But the more time I spend with “Boring Tyler” I find my mind wondering what Billie and Asher are doing. Since I am known for having an overactive imagination, my thoughts go to places I wish they wouldn’t. By the time Tyler drops me off, I’m practically having an anxiety attack. It doesn’t help when I see Asher’s bike in the parking lot. Why is he still here?

As I walk up the stairs, dread descend
s into my gut. What will I find when I go into my apartment? I don’t think I can stand it if Asher and Billie are making out…or worse. I hesitate before opening the door. I stand in front of it for several minutes with my key held out in front of me.

Oh
, this is silly.

Finally I
shove the key into the lock and push the door open. To my relief, Asher and Billie are sitting on the couch playing on Billie’s Xbox. I hate video games, so I never play with her. As a kid I never had a game system, and as an adult I just think they’re a big time waster.

Asher turns to me when I enter.
“Hey, how was your date?”

I crin
ge at the way he says the word “date”. The whole thing is strange with him being here when I get back, playing video games with my roommate. I lift my chin. “It was really fun,” I lie.

“Really? So “Boring Tyler” wasn’t so boring after all, huh?” Billie quips, still staring at the screen as she punches buttons on her controller in rapid succession.

Dropping my purse on the table, I sigh. Why did she just share with Asher that I thought Tyler was boring? I wish I’d never told her that. I walk into the kitchen and pull a cup out of the cupboard. “No, he wasn’t boring. We had a good time.”

“Then where he is he now?” Asher asks.

His words stop me cold. “I never invite guys up.”

“It’s true. She never does,” Billie interjects.

I pour some water into my glass and take a sip. Asher abandons his controller and gets up off the couch. He swaggers toward me, causing my heart to involuntarily skip a beat. Tyler didn’t have this effect on me at all tonight, but one look at Asher and my heart beats so frantically I have trouble breathing.

“You invited me up.” His blue eyes pierce mine, and I immediately drop my gaze. I stare at my glass of water as if it will tell me something. Asher leans in close and speaks in a voice so low only I can hear, “It’s nice to know that I’m the only guy that’s had that privilege.”

My hands trembling, I move out from behind the counter and walk toward Billie. Having Asher here has caused my emotions to skyrocket again and I need to steady myself. I lower myself onto the couch, taking another gulp of my water. “So, did you two have fun on your ride?”

“Yeah, it was great,” Asher answers from over my shoulder.

“Good. I’m glad you two had fun. It sounds like all of our nights worked out.” I swallow hard, trying hard not to look in Asher’s direction.

“Yeah, I am too,” Asher’s voice is strained. “I guess I should leave now. See you later, Ives. And Billie, I’ll call you about that ride.”

Billie smiles at him, and it makes my stomach churn. I can’t even respond. I just stare at the ground when I hear the door open and close. The minute his feet hit the stairs Billie sets down her controller and turns to me.

“Ivy, if you didn’t want me to go with him, you shouldn’t have practically forced me. I only went because you asked me to.”

“I know.” I run my fingers around the rim of the glass. “It’s fine. I’m not upset.”

“Yes, you are. I can tell.” Billie leans back on the couch. “So, how did it really go with Mr. Boring?”

I giggle and set my glass down on the coffee table. “Boring.”

Billie stretches out her legs, propping her feet up on the edge of the coffee table and wiggling her bare toes. “That’s what I figured. Why did you say you had fun?”

I shrug. “I didn’t want to admit to Asher that the date was awful.”

“Why not? Look, Ivy, I don’t know the whole story about what happened a year ago, but I see the way you look at Asher. I’ve never seen you look at a guy like that
, and it’s obvious that he’s crazy about you too. You need to just tell him the truth so you can be together.”

I shake my head, wishing her words were true. Wishing it could be that easy. “If I told him the truth, he wouldn’t want to be with me. The only reason he likes me at all now is because he doesn’t know the whole story.”

“I don’t think the truth can be any worse than what he thinks now. He knows you lied to him, but he still likes you. Ivy, I really think Asher will understand whatever you have to say.”

I’m so sick of having this conversation. “That’s because you don’t know what happened. If you did, you wouldn’t be asking me to tell him. Believe me.”

Billie just doesn’t get it. For years Asher has been the only person, other than my grandpa, who has truly cared for me. He has been my one safe place, the one person who builds me up and keeps me sane. I couldn’t handle it if he looked at me differently. I couldn’t handle it if he found out who I really am.

Grandpa pushes into the room behind his walker. His arthritic fingers grasp on tightly, and his shoulders tremble slightly. He’s hunched over, exposing his bald head, and his slippers shuffle on the carpet. I’m at Grandpa’s small apartment sitting on my knees, putting the books from his bookshelf into a cardboard box. He lowers himself into his recliner and sits back. I drop another book into the box and then spot a framed picture of the two of us from a few years back. Picking it up, I roll it between my fingers, taking in my fake smile. It was taken at Christmas at my house. In the background I can see Mom and Frank, and my insides burn like they’re filled with acid. The familiar churning in my gut starts, and I quickly turn the framed picture over and shove it into the box where I can’t see it.

Grandpa clicks on the TV, and I hear the swishing of the recliner as he rocks it back and forth. I wish Grandpa didn’t have to move in with Mom. Visiting him here has always been a safe haven for me. It won’t be the same now.

After finishing with the shelf, I close the box and turn toward Grandpa. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine. Why don’t you take a break?”

I shake my head. “I don’t need a break. I’m good.”

“You don’
t look so good,” Grandpa says, lowering the volume on the television.

“Thanks a lot.” I laugh at his lack of filter. He seems to be losing that as he ages. Scooting ove
r, I grab another box.

“You always look pretty, Ivy. That’s not what I meant. It’s just that your eyes look so sad. Is it about that boy you went out with?”

I bite my lip, starting on another shelf. My fingers brush over the dusty books, and a light brown film covers my fingertips. “Sort of.”

“Did you do what I said?”

I wipe my fingers off on my jeans and toss a couple more books into the box. They land with a loud thud. My knees press into the thick reeds of the carpet, and I readjust my position. “I tried, Grandpa. I just don’t know if there’s a way to make things simple for us.”

“If he’s important to you, you’ll figure it out.” Grandpa smiles at me, the wrinkles gathering around his chocolate brown eyes.

My gaze lands on the picture hanging on the wall above me of Grandma and Grandpa smiling sweetly at each other. I let go of the books. “Grandpa, if you ever found out Grandma had kept a secret from you, would it have changed the way you felt about her?”

Grandpa narrows his eyes. “Your grandma was a woman. Of course she had secrets.”

I grin. “No, I mean like a real secret. Like something big.”

“It depends on what it was, I guess.” He leans forward a little. “Ivy,
you know you can tell me anything, right?”

My chest tightens, but I make my head bob up and down in a
greement. I know I can trust Grandpa, but there’s no way I can tell him this secret. Besides, he’s dealing with enough right now. I turn back to the books and change the subject. “So, how are you feeling about moving in with Mom?”

“How would you feel about it?” Grandpa answers gruffly.

“Well, it’s different for me. I just moved out, and she’s my mom,” I respond, not mentioning the fact that the mere thought of moving back causes me to feel like I’m suffocating.

“It’s not that different for me. I’m used to living on my own, and I don’t want to have to live with my daughter. But I know it’s not safe here for me anymore. If I have one more fall or episode when no one’s around to help me, it could be dangerous.”

The thought of either of those things happening when he’s all alone wrenches at my heart. “Yeah, it will be better to have someone around to help you.”

“And you’ll keep visiting me, right?”

His question catches me off guard. “Of course.” I throw the last couple of books in the box, and turn away from the now empty bookshelf.

“You promise?”

I lock eyes with him, wondering if he knows more than I think. “Yes,” I say firmly.

“Good. Because remember, you’re always safe with your grandpa.”

My eyes mist over at the phrase he used to say when I was little. If only my grandpa had always been around, he would’ve kept me safe. Only that wasn’t the case. Blinking back unwanted tears, I go back to packing. I wonder why he said that, and the thought leaves me feeling completely unnerved.

18

Asher

“Where are you off to this evening, son?” Dad asks when he catches me heading toward the front door. His arm is draped around Mom’s shoulder as they cuddle together on the couch watching some sitcom. Canned laughter explodes from the speakers.

“Just going out on my bike.” I slide my arms into my leather jacket.

Mom’s head pops up. “Anyone going with you?”

I know what she’s asking
, and it irritates me. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m not seeing Ivy.”

The relief on her face both
ers me further. “Well, have fun, and be careful.”

This place is making me feel claustrophobic. I’m starting to seriously consider going back to LA early. The only reason I’m even here is for Ivy
, and I’m pretty sure that’s a lost cause at this point. After stepping outside, I walk briskly to my bike and pull on my helmet. Tonight I’m taking Billie for another ride, and I’m hoping to glean some information about Ivy that will help me. I have a feeling that Billie knows more than she’s letting on. A car zips by, and the scent of gasoline fills my senses. I straddle my bike and take off.

The streets are quiet tonight
, and the air is warm as I zip around town. I turn the corner and glance over at the apartment complex where Ivy’s grandpa lives. Ivy used to have me bring her here a lot. Sympathy fills me when I think about him being sick. I know it must tear Ivy up inside. I’ve never met a girl who’s closer to her grandpa than Ivy. Not that it surprises me, since he is the only father figure in her life. I know she's not close to her stepdad at all. Maybe that’s why I feel the need to protect Ivy. While everyone else sees a tough girl, I know how vulnerable she is. I know how many people she has lost, and what it cost her.

Most of our friends have no idea the pain that Ivy has endured. None of us have lost our parents.
I think that’s also why I keep giving Ivy more chances. I know how hard it is for her to trust people, to open up her heart. Her fear of losing someone she loves clouds her vision sometimes.

I’m about to turn the corner when a flash of white
blond hair catches my attention.
Ivy .
I slow my bike down and catch a glimpse of Ivy walking toward her car, carrying a box. Her face is pinched and drawn. I cross over to the curb, and turn off my bike.