The Line That Binds Series Box Set (62 page)

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” Simone said, looking between Ben and me again. If she didn’t know we were finished before, she knew now.

I gave a small smile to Simone and jogged up to the house. I had to get away from him before I lost all clarity. It didn’t help that he saw my nose bleed and almost gave me his shirt, again. My feelings were still too raw and exposed for him to play the good guy. There was so much hurt that I had to fight not to drown in it. And anger lingered just below, churning and resurfacing whenever I thought of the sweet taste of mint on his lips or the way his arms felt around me. Maybe being near him would get easier eventually. Maybe one day I’d be able to look into his dark eyes without tears welling behind mine. Only time would tell.

Right now, though, I wasn’t that strong. I was a broken mess, my heart and mind torn into fragments from the well, from my mom, and from Ben. I was ready to be numb, to reach that facet of sorrow where misery consumed everything good, leaving nothing to care about. Hurt disappeared there. That was where I needed to be.

After watching LJ run to her house, I turned back to Simone. She folded her arms across her chest and gave me a pointed look. I knew what she was thinking. I just didn’t want to talk about it.

“Here,” I said, tugging the rolled-up Co-op paper and a pen from my back pocket and handing them to her. “I need you to sign this.”

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” she asked, looking at the paper.

“Nope.”

Her eyes peered up at me. “And why should I sign this? After what happened at Friday night’s party, I’m not exactly sure you’re entitled to a positive bonus like extra hours or early school dismissal.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. “I already apologized for that, Simone. It won’t happen again. And I’m fine with having the same amount of hours. Whatever.”

“Did Lloyd agree to this?”

“Yeah. He’s fine with it.”

She sighed and her eyes darted up toward LJ’s house. “Does this have anything to do with LJ? If so, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“That’s none of your business,” I said, crossing my own arms. She had no right to worry about the reasoning behind my decision.

“I think it is my business if there are issues between two of my employees. What happens if I needed you to work together? What then?”

“We would work together.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked through a breathy, condescending laugh. “You could barely look at each other a second ago.”

“You sure you want to get personal?” Wanting an answer because of business was one thing, but poking my life with a stick was not a good idea. Unlike her other employees, I wasn’t afraid to turn the stick around, after I sharpened it.

“If I think it’s necessary.”

“Really? Was it necessary to tell Carson about my old relationship habits?”

Her eyes widened for the briefest of seconds before she shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Yeah, right.
“It’s pointless to lie. I saw you kissing him Friday night. If you wanted it to stay a secret, you shouldn’t have made out in front of the event house.” I smirked, knowing I’d hit a nerve as soon as her cheeks flushed a nice shade of pink.
Simone, embarrassed? Who knew?

She took an audible breath, positioned the paper on her thigh, and scribbled a quick signature. “Here,” she said, thrusting the paper and pen back to me.

“You stay out of my business and I’ll stay out of yours. I also want to know what you told him.”

She scrunched her eyebrows as if she’d just realized something. “Is that why you and LJ are no—”

“That doesn’t matter.” I cut her off. I didn’t care if her thought process was off point, I didn’t want to hear the last words.
No longer together.
I thought of those words too much already. “Why would you tell him shit about me, Simone?”

“I didn’t say anything bad, Ben. He mentioned that you guys were getting serious so he asked me about you. He’s just a concerned father.”

“What did you say?” I seethed. I didn’t know why I cared so much. LJ and I might really be over. None of this probably mattered, but I couldn’t let it go.

“He just asked if you’d had many girlfriends. I told him I didn’t keep track, then changed the subject because I didn’t want to talk about you.”

I laughed miserably. “And you left it at that? No wonder he was worried. You made it sound like you’d lost count.” Not that I’d counted much myself, but she still should’ve phrased it differently so I didn’t look so bad.

“What do you want me to do? Tell him I was wrong?” she asked, regaining her stiff attitude.

“No. It’s not a problem now anyway,” I said, shrugging it off. “You can still make it up to me, though.”

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms defensively again. “Really?”

“Is the event house booked Friday night?”

“You’re not having a party here,” she said, leaping ahead of the conversation.

I shook my head and lifted a corner of my mouth with annoyance. “Not what I was going to ask. I’m having some friends over to ride out back. Just thought I’d be considerate and let you know in advance, even though it’s on my property and I can do whatever the hell I want with it,” I snapped. I couldn’t care less about her feelings right now. I was getting sick of caring.

Her eyebrows scrunched as she considered my statement. “Nothing’s scheduled on Friday night.”

“Good,” I replied and backed away. “Thanks for signing.” I held up the paper before shoving it my pocket and walking away.

After I finished raking leaves by the main road, I walked back toward the house for dinner. Heavy clouds blanketed the sky, bringing dusk long before the setting sun. The wind gusted, sending a chill through me and fluttering the leaves of the gazebo’s moon vine. I stepped closer, noticing one flower had opened before the rest, eager for the night. It would be one of its last evenings. The vine would die with the cold soon enough. I gripped the flower’s base between my fingers, thinking of the way LJ looked when she stood in this spot on my birthday. Even if I couldn’t save us, I wanted her to remember. I flicked my fingers along the petal again before grabbing its stem base and popping it off the vine. I’d find a way to save this for her.

When I walked into the house, Pop was sitting as straight as he could on the worn cushions of our faded gray couch with his arms pushed inside a battered cardboard box. He was so focused he didn’t hear me close the door.

I hadn’t seen him since we’d talked yesterday morning. He needed time to process all the information I’d laid out for him: the day LJ was cursed, realizing it was all real, LJ and I finding the first stone and the journal. His reactions were limited while he listened, speaking only a few times to ask questions. I explained LJ’s mental and physical experiences as well as what I’d felt when she granted my wish. Pop mentioned feeling something similar when Janine granted his. At the time, he’d chalked it up to emotions since she’d never explained the actual process to him.

Our talk ended with his forceful words, reiterating his disappointment. Any other time, they would’ve had a more serious effect on me. This time they barely registered because his words could never compare to the look I’d seen in LJ’s eyes. The disappointment there was soul crushing. I’d lost her love. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get it back.

“Hey,” I said.

I thought he might’ve been ignoring me until he finally said, “Hi.” His face stayed fixed on the box. He pulled files out, thumbed through their contents, and set them on the coffee table before moving on to the next.

I watched his progress for a minute before ducking into the kitchen. “Find anything?” I asked loud enough for him to hear. I eyed the new case of beer in the fridge and wondered if he’d stocked the basement too.

“No,” he replied.

After grabbing a bag of chips, I returned to the living room. He was still digging. “Need some help?”

“No, this is the last one for tonight. I snuck a couple of boxes out of the event house because it’s too risky to stay over there and go through them.”

“Didn’t you already search the event house?” I asked, opening the chips. I tipped my head back and emptied half of the tiny bag into my mouth.

“Last month,” he said, flipping a few pages between his thick fingers. He paused to look more intently at one then continued, “I don’t trust that I looked well enough.”

I nodded, thinking of everything I’d looked through inside of LJ’s house and wondering the same thing.

“Did LJ talk to you today?”

And there goes my appetite.
“Not really,” I replied, tossing the bag of chips onto the dining table. There was something else I’d rather fill my stomach with later anyway. I let out a sigh and said, “I’m trying to give her some space.”

“Probably the best course of action for now,” he admitted.

I knew he was right, but I still wanted to force her to talk to me, to beg her forgiveness over and over. “Right,” I mumbled, trying to close that part of my mind even though I knew I never could. I moved back to my bedroom and picked up my helmet and jacket. Riding wouldn’t kill all the shit in my head, but it would help keep me busy until I had to face the silence of the night, when regret and worry shredded what was left of my heart.

I strode through the living room to the front door, glanced back to him, and said, “I’ll be back later.”

“Be careful,” he replied his usual warning. He still didn’t look up.

The week was agonizing in more ways than I cared to count. Seeing Ben every day before Chemistry wrecked me the most. And it was unavoidable. I tried running through the hall to arrive early and waiting until the last possible second before the bell, but it didn’t matter. He was there. Every. Day. I still lacked the nerve to look directly into his eyes. I kept my head down, watching him through my peripheral vision those few short moments before class. His hair was messier, and his usually confident posture slouched as though he’d been broken in the worst possible way. He didn’t have the right to claim that, though. I did.

On Tuesday, class with Izzy was awkward. I could hear the hesitation when she spoke to me. I figured Ben had told her and Spaz about us. Thankfully, she eased back into small talk the remainder of the week, making things far more comfortable.

The headaches continued as usual, pumping all the voices of students inside my head and swirling them in one giant mass of misery. Some days were worse than others. Most wishes I could let go, ignoring the internal pleas for creativity, diligence, or humility. But others I couldn’t. A handful brought me to my emotional knees. Knowing that some people were living situations graver and far more punished than my own, I damned my own fate and welcomed the nosebleeds.

Another headache, aside from the literal ones, was Ryan. Luckily, Mr. Hobt continued to keep a close eye on me after I’d gotten in trouble for talking Monday. His incessant stares to our area at the back of class forced Ryan to keep his mouth shut. He didn’t give up completely, though, working as many charming smiles and flirty words as he could at the beginning and end of class. Izzy picked up on my subtle discomfort and would often step between us or cut him off to give me some space.

After school, I’d been overloaded with work information from Simone. She delved deeper into the party planning aspects, going over more procedures as well as the arrangements we had with local companies. She also brought up payroll and basic expenses and I found myself taking more notes than a bloated school day.

By the time Friday came around, I was drained. The week was messy and I was so glad the end was within reach. As per Simone’s latest request, I plugged some client info into the computer and printed out next week’s event schedule to display in the kitchen’s prep area for temps and caterers.

“You better get going,” Simone murmured to me.

I leaned back in my chair to see her desk from the closet office. “It’s not five yet,” I said, glancing at the clock hanging by the window behind her. It was only three.