Miles From Kara (8 page)

“Kar. Kar!”

I blinked hard and looked up to find the girls surrounding me. I hadn't even realized they'd come over. “Oh! Sorry.” I shook my head to clear my horrible thoughts—my horribly dirty thoughts—and tried to keep my gaze away from Colt. It should be illegal for a guy to be both hot and kind. It made it impossible to resist him.

Olivia sat down in front of me and crossed her legs, one over the other, her expression screaming for me to spill it.

I glanced back at Colt to make sure the guys were far enough away to not hear, but then my eyes went greedily over his body again and warmth pooled low in my belly. Damn hot Aussie boy!

“Oh my God,” Olivia said, shaking her head, a huge smile on her face. “When did you fall for Colt?”

“Fall? No, it's not like that. We're just . . .”

“Kissing friends?” Sarah added with a grin.

I closed my eyes and dipped my head, unable to keep from giggling. “Okay, fine. But look at him!” I said, motioning his way, only to find the guys had stopped what they were doing and were watching us. I felt sure my cheeks would explode from complete and utter humiliation. But Colt only tilted his head, the small smile I loved on his face, and then the guys were back to playing whatever they were playing and the girls were grabbing beers, settling in to hear my story.

I stared out over the ocean, watching as the waves lapped against the shore, pushing the sand around and carrying it back out. I knew the girls were waiting for me to begin, but I wasn't ready to speak. I wanted to bask in the kiss, to feel Colt's warmth still on my lips. I felt so completely helpless in his hands, so comfortable, like nothing could happen to me when he was around. It was a nice feeling. An amazing feeling.

Sarah cleared her throat. “You don't have to tell us about the kiss,” she said, her tone kind. “I know how sometimes you just want to keep it for yourself.”

I glanced over at her, wondering if she was talking about her and Taylor. I started to say that it was fine, I didn't mind sharing, but then my gaze caught on how tiny she looked, how her hipbones were more defined than I remembered from earlier spring semester.

“Hey, have you lost weight?” I asked before I could stop myself. Sarah had always been overly concerned with her weight, even though she was a completely normal girl. She was built like a soccer player, all muscle and strength, but she seemed to work double time to convince her body that she was really a tiny, petite girl.

Sarah looked down and then laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, a little. I was pretty stressed finals week. I don't think I ate a bite of anything!”

“I know! Me, too,” Alyssa said, and then Olivia agreed, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else there. Some other reason that Sarah looked like she'd dropped ten pounds in a few months' time. I wanted to push the conversation, to force her to look at me so I would know if she was lying. But I didn't want to make her uncomfortable with everyone else around. Sarah and I were alike in a lot of ways. We both smiled despite everything, even when we wanted to cry. We smiled. I didn't want to take that from her.

I glanced back over the water, and then grinned at the girls, sensing that Sarah wanted me to drop it. “Okay, so Colt.”

They moved in closer so we were all seated around my beach towel. “I guess it all began with the accent.” And then I told them how I'd fallen for him, despite my best efforts to ignore my feelings. I told them about our texts and how kind he was, how he made me feel and how I wanted to see where it could go despite Ethan and the complications there. By the time I finished the story, they were all watching me, waiting for what I would say next, but that was the thing about Colt and me. I had no idea what would happen next. It was an unknown. And that was something I'd tried hard to avoid my whole life. I was a planner, and falling for Colt was perhaps the most random thing I'd ever done in my life.

I smiled at the realization, only to hear the sound of someone clearing his throat from beside us.

My head snapped over and I squinted up in the sun to find Colt there, his hand outstretched as he'd done at the movie on the lawn.

“Walk with me,” he said.

I grinned up at him and reached out for his hand. “All right.”

Colt linked his fingers through mine and squeezed, shooting warmth through my body and sending butterflies fluttering through my stomach. I tried to keep myself from smiling and failed, but it didn't matter. Colt was okay with me, the real me.

We started down the sand and then walked along the shoreline, kicking up water as we walked.

“They like you,” I said after a few minutes of walking in silence.

“Who?”

“My friends. They like you. I can tell.”

He nodded. “I like them, too.” He paused. “And I like you.”

The butterflies in my stomach swarmed up through my chest, the words like a warm blanket over my heart. I looked away, unsure of how to respond. A pack of little girls were feverishly building a sand castle, while a pair of boys kept running through the towers, destroying them and then laughing.

Colt began to laugh and I glared at him. “It isn't funny.”

He grinned as he pointed at the boys. “That? No, it isn't, but the look on your face is bloody hilarious. You look like you're contemplating burying those boys in the sand.”

I smiled. “Is that wrong?”

Colt's grin widened. “I've never met anyone like you. You're so direct. Honest. How do you manage it?”

I shrugged, torn over how much to give away of myself. We'd just started . . . well, whatever we were. I didn't want to risk it just yet. I didn't want to tell him that every word that came out of my mother's mouth was a lie. That she lied so well that often even she wasn't sure where the truth ended and her lies began. As a kid, I used to get so excited at her promises and then would forgive her again and again as she failed to deliver. She always had a wonderful excuse. And then she'd promise something else to make it up to me, only to repeat the cycle. As a teen, I began to resent her more and more, and now I could barely listen to her without rolling my eyes. In her defense, I wasn't sure she really meant to lie all the time. The words, the stories, just slipped out, and then one day she no longer knew how to do anything but weave her stories. When I was younger I resigned myself to the fact that I would never be like her, so I wasn't. Good or bad, I was honest, which was why it had killed me to keep my past with Preston from Olivia. It went against the grain, but I respected his wishes, and look where that got me—I'd nearly lost the best girlfriend I'd ever had.

I wouldn't make that mistake twice.

I peered over at Colt. “My mother's a liar. Like the kind where you never know whether she's being honest or delivering another line. She's a doctor, so she has this way of making you feel tiny and small. Like everything she says and does is right and perfect. But she isn't always right. And I never want to be anything like her. So, I tend to just . . . I don't know, blurt out whatever I'm thinking. It's like I can't stand to feel the truth inside me. I have to get it out.”
Unless that truth is about me,
I wanted to add.

Colt started to say something then closed his mouth. I could tell he wanted to ask me more about my mom, but I could feel myself closing off. I was honest, but I wasn't an open book and made no plans to become one. “So . . . if I ask you a question, you'll answer it? Honestly?”

I bit my lip. Crap. I hadn't expected him to take this direction. I sighed heavily, and then said, “Yes.”

“Why did you end things with Ethan?”

I stopped walking and looked at him, curious what his face would show that his words hadn't revealed, but he was giving nothing away. “Why are you asking?”

His gaze held mine. “I think you know.”

I released his hand and crossed my arms, yet again unsure of what to say. Did I admit my attraction to him had played a part or keep it to the simple facts—I'd fallen out of love with Ethan. That maybe I'd never loved him.

“I'm sorry to ask, but I need to know.”

I nodded slowly, knowing that he was right. He deserved to know.

I walked over and sat down in the sand and bent my knees out in front of me. The water had calmed down, and the sun was beginning to set over the horizon, spreading out yellow and orange ripples across the ocean's water. It was beautiful and peaceful and perfect. Just like Colt.

I drew a breath as Colt sat down beside me, mimicking my pose. “I guess I realized that we no longer made sense. I stopped caring about things I should care about, ya know? And that wasn't fair to him. He deserved for someone to care.”

Colt nodded, and then hesitating, he asked, “Do you still love him?”

I felt my chest tighten at the question, at the answer that came to me immediately. “I don't think I ever did,” I whispered.

Colt reached over and pulled me closer to him. “Thank you. That's what I'd hoped you'd say.”

I peered over. “You did?”

“Ethan's a good bloke. I didn't feel right moving in on his girl while he was gone, but I guess I never really felt like you were his to begin with.”

Guilt washed over me. Ethan was a good guy, and he didn't deserve for me to be so emotionless for so long. “Yeah, I don't think I was. But honestly, I don't think he was mine either. We wanted it to work, but it just . . . didn't.”

Colt started to say more, when the rest of the group ran up to us. “Hey!” Taylor shouted, and then sensing the seriousness of our chat, he changed his tone. “Oh, sorry, were you guys in the middle of something?”

“Uh, no. What's up? Is everything okay?”

“Alyssa got stung by a jellyfish. We're taking her to an urgent care to get treated. Olivia wanted me to run down to tell you.”

I jumped up. “Oh my God.” I stared down the beach to our group, who were all huddled around Alyssa. I glanced back up at Colt. “I'm sorry. I have to go. Can you get a ride with Taylor?”

“Sure, yeah of course.”

I shot him another long look before rushing after my friends, sorry that Alyssa had gotten hurt, but thankful to be free from the intensity of Colt and my conversation. I could handle talking about Ethan, but talking about him to Colt, the guy I wanted in a way I had never wanted anyone, was too much for me to take.

I reached the others and helped them take Alyssa to Olivia's car, while Preston went on back with the guys. Silence fell over the group, and then all the sudden Sarah turned to Alyssa with a grin. “I'll totally pee on you if you want.” And then we were all laughing, Alyssa cringing with each movement, but all of us unable to stop.

I stared at the doorway before me, contemplating whether or not I wanted to go in. Olivia had gone through a lot of trouble to arrange the appointment for me, so I felt bad not showing up, yet . . .

The words
Dr. Rose Campbell
stood out in black against the white sign outside her office, which was actually inside an old house with a huge front porch that had rocking chairs and a storm door that screamed out every time it moved. I knew because I'd been standing there watching the door for nearly an hour now, and had watched a patient, a UPS guy, and a mailman come by. I found it odd that none of the deliveries were simply dropped on her front porch. Why had they all gone in? Something told me it probably had something to do with Rose's personality, and that fact was what had me contemplating going inside. I knew from Olivia that her therapist had a way of getting you talking, and while I wanted information on clinical psychology and the ins and outs of running your own practice, I was afraid she'd find some way to convince me to talk about . . . me.

I dropped my head and sighed heavily, prepared to at least go inside, hoping that maybe I'd get lucky and she'd be too busy to talk, but then the screaming storm door pushed open and Rose walked out, her hands on her hips. She was dressed in white pants and a red blouse, the most feminine look I'd ever seen on her.

“Well, are you coming in or aren't you?” she asked in her smooth Charleston accent. “I've got a fresh pitcher of lemonade with your name on it.”

I tilted my head. “Lemonade?”

“A little birdie mentioned that it was your favorite.”

How could she . . . ? Olivia. Olivia must have told her that I would be hesitant. “It is,” I said, still cautious, but I had taken a step toward her.

“Very well then. Come on in before the ice melts away and we're left with watered-down lemons.” I sighed, knowing Rose was going to talk me into it one way or another, and started up the steps. She grinned the whole way. “You would have thought I'd asked you to offer up a kidney. What is it about my office that gives people such pause? Is it the black shutters? I've often thought of having them painted. Would country blue be better?”

She led me through the small foyer and hallway, and then through the first door on the right into a wide office.

“No, they're fine. It's just a little . . . intimidating.”

Rose sat down behind her desk, which was immaculate compared to Tori's, and then pulled out a white cigarette from the pack beside her phone. She tipped it toward me. “Do you mind?”

I shook my head, even though I sort of did. I fiddled with my purse strap, eyeing the cigarette. Rose squinted, and then she placed it back into its pack, like she could read the truth from my mind. “It's fine, really,” I said.

Rose leaned forward and crossed her hands in front of her. Her stare was unlike anything I'd ever encountered before. She was all hawk and kitten, penetrating yet gentle. I couldn't make sense of the reaction she gave me, because it made me want to unload every thought and feeling I had with that single look. I wondered if she practiced it in front of the mirror or if it came naturally to her. I wondered if I would one day have my own look.

“So, Kara, what would you like to discuss today?”

I glanced down at the notebook I'd brought over, question after question asking how she got started as a therapist, what she loved most about her job, who and what had helped her most to succeed—but none of that came to me. Instead, I met Rose's gaze and said, “I had an abortion when I was sixteen.”

Rose leaned back in her chair and stared at me for a solid minute. “I do believe we're sitting in the wrong seats. Care to move over there?” She motioned to the leather sofa and matching chair beside it. I cringed. “No? All right then, let's talk about sixteen-year-old Kara.”

I swallowed hard, my cheeks burning at the realization that Rose might already know this story from Olivia. She might know everything about me already, but then not even Olivia knew everything, so how could Rose? I bit my lip, contemplating, when Rose added, “What were you like before the abortion?”

I laughed, remembering my cheerleading skirts and high ponytails. “I was
that
girl, ya know? Popular and bubbly. The sort of girl who made everything in life look easy.”

“And was it easy?”

My gaze fell. “No.”

“So why the false pretenses?”

“False pretenses?”

“Yes. Why did you lie to the people around you?”

I straightened in my chair. “I didn't lie. I would never lie. Lying is the most horrible thing in the world. It ruins relationships. It makes everyone around you question everything you say. It makes them lose all respect for you. I don't lie. Ever.”

Rose leaned forward slowly. “All right, dear. I believe you.”

My eyes dropped again, tears building in them despite my best efforts. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry.”

“I just . . . my mom. She always lies. Everything she says. It's been sort of a problem in our family.”

Rose nodded. “I can see that. How do you feel about your mom?”

I thought of my mom, pictured her face in my mind, then stared up at Rose. “I love her, but I also . . . hate her.”

Rose tilted her head. “Do you really? Or do you just wish that she were different?”

My bottom lip wobbled, and I clamped my teeth down on it to keep it still. “I guess I just wish I could forget.” I thought of Mom's tight smile as she called the school office to tell them I would be home sick for a couple of days. The flu. In March. How she refused to let my friends see me at first, and then her anger when she overheard me telling them about the abortion. I couldn't help it. I couldn't keep it to myself any longer.

Rose studied me for a long time, then glanced at her watch. “You know, Kara, I've always felt the best way to learn this business is to experience it. I can't just have you shadow me in one of my sessions, but I could counsel you, if you like. You know, just for research and learning purposes.”

My eyes lifted to Rose's, and while I hadn't shed a tear, I could feel them burning my vision, desperate to break free. No one knew how I truly felt. They didn't know the fears that stayed with me or the constant voice telling me that I would never be a good person. That I would forever be tainted. I wanted to get it all off my chest. I wanted to yell about it, cry, and finally feel like I was free from this
thing
that hovered over me. But how could I open up to Olivia's therapist? How could I trust her?

And then once again, as though Rose could read my thoughts she said, “Our educational sessions would be between us, Kara. No one else. You understand that, right? Everyone needs someone they can unload on. I'm happy to be that person for you.”

I fumbled with my watch, turning it around a few times. “Just between us?”

“Just between us.”

“I think I'd like that.”

“All right then. How is Thursday for you? Ten o'clock should do it.”

I nodded. “Ten sounds perfect.”

I left Rose's office and slipped into my MINI Cooper, shaking my head. How had she done that? I went there prepared to ask her questions about practicing psychology, and somehow left as one of her patients. I would have to cancel. I couldn't see the same therapist as Olivia, no matter what Rose had said to convince me. It was weird. But then again, she'd been so easy to talk to. Now I understood why Olivia still saw her every few weeks, even though she was getting over the fire now.

I started my car and made my way to Helping Hands, knowing that I would see Rose Thursday at ten, even if I was hesitant. She was right, I could learn from her counseling me, which sort of made it an internship . . . sort of.

***

I parked in the lot behind Helping Hands, grateful to have something to distract me for the rest of the day. The air was thick and humid, so the moment I stepped out of my car, my body became clammy with sweat. I'd lived in the South my entire life and still wasn't used to the overwhelming humidity.

I draped my crossover bag over my shoulder and tugged down my shorts, curious if I should have asked Tori if it was okay for me to wear something so casual. But then in the middle of summer in the South, I couldn't imagine she'd say no.

I started around the corner and felt my heartbeat begin to pick up speed. I'd intentionally parked on the farthest parking lot from Helping Hands, giving me an excuse to walk past the architecture firm where Colt was interning. We'd barely spoken since the day at the beach, and I found myself lost on his intentions. I didn't know what to think. When we were together he seemed so into me, but then once we were separated, everything felt so out of sight, out of mind. I had no idea if that meant he had other girls he was seeing. Maybe he was with them when he wasn't with me, which was fine. Totally fine. Completely and totally fine.

I shook my head at my own stupid attempt to convince myself and paused just before the large windows at the front of the firm. I tried to keep my head forward, but with my sunglasses shading my eyes, I peered through the windows, thankful they had the blinds open. At first I didn't see him, but then my gaze caught on a guy in the far back corner of the office, seated behind a drawing table, his head down close to the project he was working on, a pencil in his right hand moving feverishly, then pausing, before starting up again. I found myself smiling at his intensity, at the dress shirt he had rolled up to his elbows, at the way one side of his hair was tucked behind his ear and the other hung loose over his right eye. It was like watching something on TV, or like flipping through a magazine and stopping to check out the model in the ad. Colt embodied this easiness and confidence that couldn't be faked. It was just him.

“Kara!”

My head jerked to attention and my eyes widened at the possibility of being caught checking him out, but that was stupid. No one around here knew anything about Colt or me. I peered around in search of who'd called my name and saw Tori hanging out the door to Helping Hands, waving me over.

“It's Maggie,” she said, her voice rich with fear, and then I was running.

I slipped through the door, petrified that something horrible had happened.

“She's having contractions, but refuses to let us take her to the hospital. She's just screaming that she isn't ready, that she hasn't decided. I can't get her to calm down, and she keeps asking for you. I have no clue what to do,” Tori said. I realized in that moment that while Tori was amazing at working with adults, she always became uncomfortable around the kids that came here, passing them off to one of the other counselors. It made me wonder if something had happened with one of her children or if she didn't have kids and felt lost on how to handle them. Which all explained why she liked to keep one college student around as a volunteer, and this summer I was her only counselor under the age of thirty.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Back here.”

Tori led me through the back hall to her office, where Maggie sat in a chair inside, covered in sweat, her face red and blotchy from crying.

“I can't do this,” she said, her voice breaking.

I swallowed hard and steeled myself, then walked over to her, and as calmly as I could muster, said, “Maggie, you're only seven and a half months along. This is probably Braxton Hicks, nothing more. My aunt used to get them all the time before her last delivery. But we won't know for sure until we take you in. Can you please let me take you to the hospital?”

She bit down on her lip and her face tightened. I reached out for her hand and let her squeeze my palm as another contraction hit her. “Just breathe,” I said. “Just breathe.” A few seconds passed, and then her face relaxed a bit and she peered over at me.

“You'll be the one to take me?”

“I'll take you if you'll let me.”

She nodded quickly, and I turned back around to Tori. “Can you sit with her for a second? I need to make a call.”

“Sure,” Tori said, rushing to Maggie's side.

I stepped outside and pulled out my phone, searching through my contacts until I found Colt's name. God, how could I call him with something like this? We were barely anything. But there wasn't time for Olivia or Preston to get here, and my ridiculously tiny MINI Cooper couldn't handle the magnitude of the situation—or at least the magnitude of Maggie's belly. I closed my eyes and clicked send, cringing with each ring, but knowing I had no other choice.

“Kara,” Colt said after a beat.

“Hey, look, I'm so sorry to ask this, but I need a favor. It's urgent.” I explained the situation to him and then breathed a huge sigh of relief when he told me he drove a 4Runner. “Can you get it and meet me out front of Helping Hands?”

“I'll be right there.”

I closed my eyes again, this time in relief. “Thank you.” And then hung up the phone and went back into Maggie.

“I have help coming.”

“Help?” Maggie's eye went wide. “Please tell me you didn't call my dad. He— Please don't call my dad.”

I shook my head. “No. I called a friend of mine, but Maggie, Tori is going to have to call your dad. You're underage. We can't
not
call your dad.”

She nodded to me as tears began to pool in her eyes. “Okay.”

“Okay. Now, my friend is meeting us out front. Do you think you can walk?”

“I think so.” She started to push herself up, and I wrapped my arm around her to help support her.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” she said with a nod.

With Tori's help, I managed to get Maggie out front before another contraction hit her.

I let her lean into me, putting all her pressure, frustration, and fear on me. I blinked hard to keep myself from crying, repeating again and again in my mind that Maggie needed me. She needed me. I couldn't break down.