Road trip with the enemy, p.10
Road Trip with the Enemy, page 10
His eyes turned red, and moisture filled his lashes. He sniffed and looked away. “Is that how you feel?”
I drew up the rest of my energy and put all of it into one word. “Yes.”
“Be in the car in five. I’m going to get my bag.”
After the door shut behind him, I slammed each piece of clothing into the bag with all the anger I felt in my body. I hated this. Hated that everything had come crumbling down. All because I was stupid enough to say yes to a road trip with Jeremiah Dermot.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Bubby and Hoolie told us to drive to the gas station near their house so they could fill up the Jeep and get some cash from the ATM.
Karen, the traitor, rode with them on the way, leaving Jeremiah and me alone in the Jeep again. Not a single word passed between us.
He drove up to a pump, and I got out. I needed space from him and the harsh words that had passed between us in that very vehicle.
Bubby and Hoolie parked at the next pump over. When Bubby got out of the car, she said, “Come on, Sydney. Let’s go get some snacks.”
She didn’t say it in the sweet grandma way, but in the Jedi-mind-trick way. You will come inside and get snacks with me.
When we got inside, I turned and eyed the junk food. This was exactly the kind of thing I’d passed on for four months because I’d had a marathon to train for... but now? Nothing. I could eat whatever I wanted.
The thought brought me no joy.
Bubby walked down the aisle, putting treats in my arms and muttering to herself about the snacks. She was trying to remember what Jeremiah liked.
My heart hurt for her. I hoped, for her sake, that Jeremiah would make an effort to visit them again after this trip.
“Anything chocolate is a winner,” I said, hating that I knew him so well.
We stopped in front of the stand with rolling hot dogs and taquitos in oil-soaked paper bags. Pass.
“Can you think of anything else you need?” Bubby asked.
I shook my head.
“Okay.”
I started toward the cash register so I could unload my laden arms, but Bubby put a soft hand on my shoulder. “Sydney, hold on.”
I turned toward her, ready for a lecture on the red mark I left on Jeremiah’s cheek or the tears in his eyes, but she wrapped me in a hug. I couldn’t return it with everything I was holding, but her warmth still seeped into me, cocooning me.
I stepped back. If she held me any longer, I’d fall apart.
“If I may...” She sighed. “I’ve been around the block long enough to know what love looks like, and when I see my grandson look at you...” She put her lips together and shook her head. “You know, the first time his family came to visit after they moved to Wilmington, he told me about you and Greg and that he almost lost his chance with you because he made a joke about your hair. Even then I could see it in his eyes.”
My own eyes stung, but I did my best to keep my mask in place. I trained my gaze on something right over her shoulder. A sign that said the slushy machine had broken down with imperfect spelling.
“I don’t know what happened tonight between the two of you, but please, don’t let it ruin something that is so special.”
Bubby didn’t get it, though. You couldn’t ruin something that wasn’t real. We were in a bubble here in Ocean City. And now that bubble had burst.
I nodded anyway because I couldn’t take any more of her soft voice and words that were far too hopeful.
She put her hand on my back as we walked to the register, and even though I offered to pay, she got out her credit card and took care of it. She was used to taking care of people.
We went out to the Jeep together. Jeremiah already sat in the driver’s seat, and Hoolie and Karen leaned against the hood of his grandparents’ car, talking, laughing. Or, more like Karen was talking and Hoolie was laughing.
“I need a goodbye, young lady,” Bubby said to Karen, sticking her arms out.
Karen got up and wrapped Bubby in a tight hug. They rocked back and forth like long-lost best friends.
How had Karen gotten so close with them already?
I guessed I understood. Jere’s grandparents were great people. How could you not fall in love with them? My heart ached as I realized I was losing them too.
I changed directions and got in the back seat of the Jeep, bringing the snacks with me. Jeremiah didn’t even look at me, his eyes straight ahead. Fine. I stared ahead too. In two hours, I could ask Aunt Karen to drive me home, and in three months, I would make sure to go anywhere Jeremiah wasn’t. I wouldn’t have to see Jeremiah Dermot ever again.
Karen’s phone rang in the front passenger seat, but she was so preoccupied with Bubby and Hoolie, she didn’t hear it.
It said “Moto Group” so I leaned forward and answered it. “Karen’s phone.”
“Hi there, we were just calling to see where we needed to send her last check. Do you know if she’s still living at the same address?”
“Last check?”
“Yes,” the guy said. “From the Motorcycle Group.”
I caught sight of Karen, laughing and smiling with Jeremiah’s grandparents. This was why she was able to take a week off at a moment’s notice. “She’s still at the same address.”
“Thanks.” The receiver bumped against something and then the man on the other end said, “Tell her again how sorry we are. Times are just tough.” the line went silent. I hurried to put her phone back in her seat and then sat back again. Jeremiah barely even gave me a second glance.
After they finished their goodbyes, Karen came over and got in the Jeep.
Hoolie leaned over the driver’s side door. “Y’all have a safe trip, you hear?”
“We will,” Jeremiah said.
“Good. And when you get home, I need you”—he pointed at Aunt Karen—“to stay in touch. I need you”—he pointed at me—“to take care of yourself. You always have a place to come stay with us.” And then he pointed at Jeremiah. “And, Miah, I need you to make things right with this young lady. She’s one in a million, and you’d be an idiot to let her go.”
Jeremiah stared straight ahead, put the Jeep in drive, and said, “Goodbye, Grandpa.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
We drove through the night to Aunt Karen’s apartment in silence, not even listening to Greg’s mix CD. I huddled under Bubby’s quilt in the back seat. Karen put on her eye mask, leaned her head back, and smoked. And Jere? He might as well have been made of stone for all the emotion he showed.
Our sophomore year, he’d broken his ankle on a cross-country course, and it took him out for the season. Right now felt like that time all over again, with him withdrawing into himself. Back then, he’d disappeared for a few months, only going school and home while he did PT. Like he was punishing himself for being in pain.
He didn’t realize that he was punishing more than just himself, though. We missed spending time with him. His sisters were worried sick, the oldest even made a weekend trip home from her first semester of college in California to make sure he was alright.
His withdrawal had deeply bothered me then. I couldn’t understand why he would pull away from his friends at the worst time in his life. But Greg said everyone dealt with disappointment differently and that Jere’d be back when he was ready.
Greg was forgiving like that. Me? I still hadn’t mastered that skill. The bitterest part of me was glad he was hurting and keeping his distance. I couldn’t wait to get away from Jere—go back to the plan I had when I first met him freshman year and avoid him for the rest of my life.
How had he said those things to me? It was like Greg’s funeral all over again. We’d been in the church my family only attended on Christmas and Easter, and I sat in the corner of the children’s cry room before the service. I couldn’t be close to the coffin, to the shell of my other half, knowing he was moments from being lowered into the ground. The whole ordeal made me feel seconds away from throwing up or passing out or both. There, in the cry room, I could sit in silence while my parents talked to the pastor, try to be somewhere else, in my mind if not my body.
Jeremiah had found me there, sat across from me. “Are you okay?”
I’d scoffed. “Okay?” The only thing more ridiculous than his question was his timing. Gearing up for a day of people telling me it was in God’s plan for my brother to die or that I could turn his loss into a message, I couldn’t take one more thoughtless comment.
“I just meant...” He fiddled with his hands over his crossed legs. “Will you be?”
“No.” How could I be? My lips twisted into a grimace. “It was our fault.”
“How could you say that?”
“Are you kidding?” I stared at him, incredulous. “How can you be so dense?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You know, you’re not the only one hurting.”
“Because of us.”
He shook his head. “That’s not fair to say.”
“It wasn’t fair that he died.”
Jeremiah pressed up from the carpet. “You need some time. Let me know what I can do to help.”
“You know what would help?” I’d gotten up too, stared him right in the eyes so he’d know how serious I was being. “Stay away from me.”
I’d left the room, Jeremiah, with every intention of following through on my own request. I didn’t want to see him again. But now, here we were, pulling into the parking lot of Karen’s apartment. I was wide awake, disappointed, and couldn’t stand the idea of three more hours in the car with him. Taking a road trip with my enemy had been my worst idea, and I wasn’t going to repeat it twice.
“Karen, can you drive me home?” I asked.
Her wide eyes went from me to Jere. “Are you sure?”
I nodded.
She faltered. “Well... sure.” And then she carried her stuff inside.
I went to follow her, but Jeremiah called, “Sydney, wait.”
I turned to face him, holding my hands out at my sides. “What?”
“Don’t do this,” he said. “Please.”
Because we both knew what it meant if I rode home with Karen. It meant we’d go back to being worse than strangers, passing in the hall like trains on opposite tracks. Following through on what I’d asked him to do after Greg’s funeral.
But that was how it had to be.
“You know when you said I had a million thoughts going through my mind?” I said. “What you didn’t know was that in those million thoughts, your name was always there. I never wanted to be just Greg’s twin sister to you. I wanted to be Sydney. To be something more. I wanted you to see me.
“But that was before I learned promises could be broken. That you were the kind of guy who would let his friend leave a party. No matter what you say, a piece of me will always believe there was more you could have done. You could have taken the keys before you took me outside, thrown them in the ocean. Hid the car. Anything.”
But he hadn’t. I hadn’t. We hadn’t.
And that meant I couldn’t.
I couldn’t give my heart to Jeremiah Dermot because it had been buried with my brother. And there was no way to get it back.
I shook my head. All I could say to Jeremiah now was, “Go home, Jere.”
His lips wavered, but only for a second before his eyes were back on the apartment building and a tear was rolling down his face, blending with the saltwater already there.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
And then he turned around and started to the car.
As I made my own trip into Karen’s place, I wished. That things were different. That we could be more. That we could go back to the days when I was Greg’s sister, and Jeremiah was the new guy.
But most of all? I wished Jeremiah hadn’t been right about everything.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Even though we’d driven until two in the morning the night before, Karen was up at five with her travel mug and visor, ready to drive me home.
I pushed up from the couch and rubbed my swollen eyes.
“Are you sure you want to go home?” she asked.
I nodded. “What other choice do I have?”
“Oh, honey, we always have a choice.” She sat next to me on the couch, and she was so light, the cushion barely dipped at all. “You have a choice to beg forgiveness instead of askin’ permission. You have a choice to chase after that boy. You have a choice to forgive.”
“I’ve already tried all of those things, and look where I ended up.”
“Hey, my place isn’t that bad.”
I laughed a little despite myself. “You know what I meant.”
“I know.” She leaned her head against mine and rubbed my back. “Okay, let’s hit the road, Jack.”
“My name’s Sydney.” I tried the joke, but it fell flat coming through my lips.
As she stood up, she shook her head, smiling. “Come on, girl.”
After she said goodbye to her cats, we walked outside and down to her car in the parking lot. It might have been rusty, and one of the windows might have fallen down in the track, but I loved it. Anything was better than that Jeep that only played my brother’s music and never gave me any respite from the rain or Jeremiah.
I got into her car, sitting on the pillow that covered exposed springs, and held my backpack on my lap. Somehow, I managed to fall into an uneasy sleep, but an hour in to the drive, my ringing phone woke me up.
I didn’t recognize the number, but I answered anyway. “Hello?”
“Is this Sydney Thane?” a man asked.
“Yes?”
“We’re calling to let you know we have your car impounded on our lot.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“We had to tow it off the freeway,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’ll be twelve hundred dollars to get it out. You can come get it when you’re ready.”
“I...I don’t have twelve hundred dollars.”
“I guess you’ll get your steps in then.”
With wide eyes, I rested my phone in my lap.
“What happened?” Karen asked.
“My car...was impounded.”
She shook her head, a wry smile on her lips. “Welcome to the hard knock life, kid.”
Welcome? I’d already built a house and lived there. More like home sweet home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I wanted to sleep more—knew I needed it, but as we wound our way down obscure highways, I couldn’t relax enough to actually disappear in slumber. Instead, I got out the scrapbook I had been making for Liam.
The decorated cover stared back at me, mocking me, just like my new tattoo. Now, it would only be a reminder of another way I’d failed Greg. Maybe I deserved that. I shouldn’t be allowed to forget and move on, because Greg couldn’t.
“Is that Liam?” Karen asked, nodding at the cover.
“Yeah,” I said. I’d placed a photo of him and Greg together right in the middle. They looked so cute, grinning together and wearing matching Halloween costumes. Greg would have made an amazing dad, but he would never have the chance. Liam wouldn’t either. And now he’d never be able to have a marathon medal to hang around his neck.
“He looks sweet,” Karen commented.
“He is.”
I stared out the window, where a pastel orange sunrise painted the sky. Why had I never noticed all the colors of sunrise before Liam? He seemed to catch the little things everyone else missed. Maybe because he knew they could be gone any minute. He had to savor every single moment.
Was it better to know your time was short so you could appreciate it more? Or had Greg been the lucky one to be here one second and gone the next, never worried about death or what he’d leave behind? Who he’d leave behind?
I flipped to the last page of the scrapbook, where I’d written silvery letters to spell MARATHON. There was no photo to put there now. Only an excuse.
I got out a pen and started writing.
Liam, I messed up. I made a promise I couldn’t keep, and now you’re going to suffer for it. Sometimes, you learn that no matter how much you want to do something or help someone, it just doesn’t work out. You get kicked down. Your parents tell you no. You get a flat tire or a speeding ticket or run out of gas. You try to mix oil and water. I know you wanted Jeremiah and me to have each other, but we’re bad for one another. Greg was our glue, and without him...it just doesn’t work. I know how much you wanted this and how much Greg wanted this, but I couldn’t make it happen. I hope you understand, even just a little bit. I hope you know that I love you and that I tried my best. You deserved better.
I dropped the pen, unable to write any more through the blurring in my eyes and the fiery lump in my throat.
Couldn’t that last line sum up his life? He deserved better. He deserved better than terminal cancer, than losing his best friend in my brother, than all the suffering he’d experienced in his short life.
And I was just piling on.
I hated myself even more for that. Hated my parents for making us turn around. Hated Jeremiah for giving up. Hated myself for giving up.
The thought of disappointing Liam ripped my chest to shreds.
“Are you okay, honey?” Karen asked.
There was that question again.
I shook my head, sending a tear flinging off my nose. I wiped at the itching sensation.
“Let’s stop,” she said. “Get some fresh air.”
She pulled off the road into a turnoff for a field. There was a barbed-wire gate with a big black sign that read NO TRESSPASSING in bright orange letters.
The engine quieted, and she opened her creaking door.
“Get out,” she said.
I shook my head, but her glare told me if I didn’t get out, she’d drag me out herself.
My body felt like a million lead balloons, but I dragged myself out of the car and sat on the hood. It was warmer here than it had been in Ocean City, and the morning sun heated my skin from the light and from the hot metal hood.
