[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Noah fucking Scott. As soon as I lay eyes on him, speak to him, I'll know what to do, if coming here was
right or wrong.
Do you have a car I can borrow? I ask India thinking that it's really weird that I can even ask that
question. When I left, she was eleven. Now she's sixteen. Holy shit, time really does fly, doesn't it?
Um, yeah, she says, voice so soft and perfect but not weak, never weak. I spin to face her and smile,
this time without all of that bitterness. Her dad was a wandering musician, a guy who wore tight pants,
cussed a lot, and sang ballads that could break your heart. My mother let them, but at least she got India. I
kiss my sister's forehead and look over at Ty. He looks fucking perfect in the Midwest moonlight. It's
different here, more pure somehow. I don't know why; it just is. I study his face with the glimmering
piercings, his dark brown eyes, his colorful tattoos, and hold out my hand for a cigarette. India, maybe
sensing that we need a moment alone, says, I'll go get the keys, and disappears inside for a moment.
Ty digs around in his back pocket, finds the box of Djarum Blacks and hands one to me.
I think this counts as a special occasion, he says softly, and I find that I can't agree more. Whether it's
good or bad or beautiful or horrid, it's certainly special. How many family reunions will I have in my
life? Hopefully this is the last. Hopefully I can find the strength to embrace them now or walk away
forever. That's the plan anyway. Ty lights his cigarette first and leans down, pressing the cherry against
mine. I inhale deeply and imagine that I'm inhaling more than the scent of cloves and tobacco, that I'm
inhaling bits of Ty McCabe into my lungs, taking him deeper into me than I've ever accepted anyone else.
I do this because I know the next thing that I'm going to say will break his heart. I can only hope that he
understands.
Here are the keys, India says, stepping out on the porch and giving us both looks that say she's gotten
the full anti-smoking propaganda that they spew in classrooms nowadays. I think to myself that she's a
good girl and better off for it, but I don't put my cigarette down. It's the old Ford by the barn. Sometimes
it takes awhile to turn over, but it's a good truck. I hold out my hands and tilt my head upwards so that I
blow smoke towards the stars and not at India's face. The little monster is back, thanks to Mom, and it
wants me to, wants to push her back and ask why she's smiling so big and looking at me like I'm so cool
she can't even stand it. I don't want her to look at me that way because it means she looks up to me.
Nobody should look up to me, not now, not ever.
Look after Ty for me while I'm gone, I say, dropping my chin and smiling at her. I let the cigarette
dangle from my lips while I dig around my pockets and find my phone. Let's trade numbers in case you
need me.
Where are you going? Ty asks as he grabs his cigarette between two fingers and crosses his arms
over chest. His arm muscles tense, but his hand hangs limply while smoke curls through his nose ring and
kisses his hair. I smile at India and wait for her to plug her number into my phone before I speak. Again,
she somehow senses that Ty and I need another moment and bows back into the house. She isn't far away
though, none of them are. I can hear them arguing about me in the kitchen as Ty raises his dark brows at
me. Well? he asks, and I have to swallow three times before I can say what I need to say. What's so
fucking important that you can't take me with you?
I drop my cigarette to the porch, amongst a heap of others and let it fizzle out on its own. When I raise
my head, my eyes are closed because I can't look at Ty's face while I say this. I open my mouth three times
and stop before I can ever utter the first syllable. Why am I so fucking scared? What is wrong with me?
Am I afraid of losing Ty? Do I even have enough of a hold on him to lose him?
Come on, baby, he says with a sigh, and I smile slightly because I've never liked hearing a guy say
that before. Baby. It's always come across as something condescending, some stupid fucking pet phrase
that makes them feel better about fucking me and walking off, like somehow calling me a nice name makes
all the difference. Not with Ty. That's not at all how it is with him. If you're going to walk away and
leave me alone with a bunch of people you don't even know, you at least owe me an explanation. Where
are you going? My eyes pop open and my lips part; the words fall away like the last leaves in winter.
To see Noah Scott.
10
Ty blinks so slowly that for a second I think that something's wrong with me, that I'm not seeing the world
in real time anymore.
Fuck.
That's all he says, just that. He's understandably upset by my statement, but he doesn't yell or throw
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]