All It Takes (13 page)

“Oh, yeah. But no. Right.” What was I talking about again? Ugh, stupid Autumn with her stupid wine. It always hits me so much harder than anything else. I think hard for a second, leaning against the wall to steady myself as I try to remember what I was talking about. Stupid wine. My thoughts are slipping away from me like the beach sand through my fingers. “What was I . . .h, yeah!” I wag a finger at Ash. “Money.” That was it. I look around the room, but it’s too dark. “Where’s my checkbook?” I know it’s here somewhere. It has to be. I’m halfway to the little table we put by the front door when I hear Ash laugh and feel his hand close around my upper arm, tugging me back.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, and even in the darkness I can see his smile. I really, really like his smile. “Come on—” he tugs at my arm again “—let’s get you to bed.”

The journey through the kitchen feels both epically long and like a sudden whirlwind all at once, and before I know what’s happening I’m tumbling down onto my mattress, laughing so hard that I have tears in my eyes.

“Stupid wine.” I giggle, and reach up to wipe the moisture from my face. Ash is just looking down at me in the darkness, shaking his head but I can still see his smile. “Seriously, though. It’s been a month.” The words are coming out of my mouth, but I’ve half-forgotten what I’m talking about. “Your pay!” I blurt out after a moment, feeling victorious that I’ve managed to remember. “I need to pay you.”

I struggle like an upside-down turtle for a moment, before getting my bearings enough to roll over and make a grab for my purse. It’s by the side of the mattress, but there’s only the tiniest amount of light coming in through the kitchen windows, so the quest for my checkbook has been upgraded from
difficult
to
mission-freaking-impossible.

After a couple of minutes or hours or however long it takes, I give up and shove my purse to the side. “I’m such a shitty boss. I’ll pay you tomorrow,” I say, flopping back down on the mattress. Reaching up, I rub the heels of my hands into my eye sockets and try to make my thoughts make sense. Seriously, what was in that wine? I’m starting to suspect it was closer to moonshine than actual vino.

When I pull my hands down and open my eyes again, my entire body kind of
jerks. Jesus,
I think, trying to get my heart rate back down to normal.
I forgot Ash was even here.
He’s standing so still, and he hasn’t said a word.

“I’m sorry,” I say again as I turn over and reach for my pillow, because Ash definitely deserves a boss that will actually pay him when they’re supposed to. It’s not his fault that I’m so bad at this. “I really am. I’m a terrible boss. I’m lucky you haven’t already quit.” I face-plant into the softness of the pillow. Mmmm. Nice. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

I’m almost asleep when I feel it, a dip in the mattress, a gentle hand on my shoulder, resting there for a second and then trailing down my head, smoothing down my hair.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ash whispers. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I smile into my pillow.

The mattress shifts again just as I’m on the edge of sleep, and I feel it as Ash gets up. He whispers “goodnight,” and his shadow crosses over to block the tiny bit of light through the doorway, and I wake up enough to turn and look at him.

“Where’re you going?” I mumble.

“Just heading home,” Ash says. “It’s late. Or early, now, I guess. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I reach out and sort of flap my hand in his direction. “Stay,” I say, and then I realize what I’ve just said. I just invited him to stay the night. Oh god. I can feel my face heat, and I want to smother myself with my own pillow. This is mortifying. Ash must agree, because he’s completely frozen in the doorway, and even in the dark I can tell he’s staring at me like I’ve grown another head.

This is what happens when the entirety of your romantic involvement can be summed up with a handful of drunken make-outs and a single boyfriend who disappeared off the face of the earth the second he turned eighteen. Minimal experience; total embarrassment.

“Um . . . what?”

I pull in a deep breath and blow it out slowly. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Stay,” I say, turning over completely so I can look him in the eye. “It’s late.” His silence is killing me, so I hastily add, “You can take the shed or the sofa or whatever. But don’t drive. It’s too late and you must be exhausted.”

“I . . . ” Ash starts, then stops for a moment. I watch as he shifts from foot to foot in the darkness, waiting for him to let me down easy, but his rejection doesn’t come. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

“Good,” I say, and burrow back down into my pillow before I can do any more damage. Even though I’m turned away and can’t see him, I can still feel his presence. He hovers in the doorway for a moment, and slowly but surely, the tendrils of sleep begin to tangle around me once again.

I’m almost lost to them when I hear his quiet murmur of “thanks,” and the soft sound of his footsteps as he walks away, and I can’t help but smile.

Ash

I
’m a fucking idiot.

Honestly, a punch to the gut probably would have been gentler. It’s just a job to her. It always has been.

I’m
the one that keeps forgetting that. It’s not Star’s fault. She’s just being nice. I’m the one latching onto her like a fucking octopus.

And the really pathetic thing? I don’t see that stopping anytime soon. That’s why I’m up at the ass-crack of dawn, in line at the take-out counter at the diner to get her breakfast. Because even though she isn’t interested, she’s amazing and I’m a huge fucking pussy.

If my ex saw me right now, she’d be laughing her ass off.

But then again, Gina never did think very much of my efforts to be a good boyfriend. Not that I
tried
a lot back then, but still. Anything I did to try to be romantic had been shot down. The one time I brought her flowers, she’d laughed in my face and asked if that’s what I really thought she wanted from me.

I can’t believe I ever actually thought she loved me. I’m such a fucking idiot. Or was an idiot, I guess. I know a hell of a lot better now. I’m not going to be fooled by pretty red hair and a sweet smile, not when there was a fucking heartless shell underneath.

Star isn’t like that. I know it.

But it still sucks that she only sees me as an employee, and nothing more.

“What can I get you?” I look up, startled at the voice, and I realize with a start that I’ve reached the front of the line, and that the waitress—Maisie, her name tag reads—is standing in front of me, pad in hand, eyebrow raising millimeter by millimeter as I stand there, unresponsive. Fuck. I shake my head, trying to clear it of the bad memories, and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Shit, sorry,” I say. “Breakfast sandwiches. Two of them. And coffee, too. Please?”

She blinks at me for a second, then nods and turns away, which is about a million times better service than I got from the blonde waitress the other day. But it’s still nowhere close to
welcoming.
I sigh and scrub my hands over my face. Who the hell am I kidding? Star’s the only one in this town willing to take a chance on me, and she’s leaving soon. I’m going to be miserable without her.

There’s nothing in this town for me, not anymore. But I can’t leave. I’m stuck here until my parole is up.

Star’s going back to school. She’s going to make something of herself. And I’ll be just some distant memory of a loser she took pity on for a summer. She’ll move on.

And I’ll be here, in Avenue, missing her. I don’t know how I’m going to get over her, or if I ever will. It’s not like I have any better prospects coming along. Star’s one in a fucking million. Even if I manage to find another girl around here who’s willing to give me a shot, chances are she’ll be just like my ex, who fucking ripped my heart out. And then stomped on it for good measure.

Bitch. Way to kick a guy when he’s down.

“Here you go,” Maisie says, handing me a packed-full paper bag. “Ten eighty-nine.”

I take the bag from her and hand over the money. Maybe I should have taken up Star’s offer of paying me last night. I’m almost out of cash.

Maisie turns to the cash register beside her, ringing me through as I tilt my head down and start digging through the pocket of my jeans, trying to take stock of what’s left of my money by feel alone. Considering all I can feel is coins, I’m going to go with not fucking much.

“Um,” she says, her voice so soft I nearly miss it. “Um, I think you need to go outside. Like, right now.”

Fan
fucking
tastic,
I think.
Another one. I can’t believe I thought she’d be any different than the rest.

“What is it?” I sigh. “Suddenly realize who you’re talking to?” I’ve had enough of this shit.

“No,” she says, and her head’s shaking so fast it looks like it’s going to fly right off her shoulders. Her eyes are huge behind her black-framed glasses. She lifts up a hand and points over my shoulder. “It’s your car.”

There’s a crash behind me and I whirl around and look.

Jesus.

I drop the doggie bag on the counter and sprint out the front door.

It’s the asshole who called me a killer that day in the diner, the day Star and I met. And he’s got a fucking bat.

And he’s using it on my goddamn car!

***

“Hey,” I say, afterward, keeping my voice low as I speak into the pay phone’s receiver. “It’s me.”

“Ash?” And there must be something in my voice that gives me away, because Star’s voice goes from
sleepy-rumpled-sheets-come-back-to-bed-baby
one second to
danger-danger-high-alert
the next. “What’s going on?” she asks, and I can hear the sounds of her getting out of bed and moving around the room. “Why are you calling?
How
are you calling? I thought you didn’t have a phone.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I don’t. Look . . . ” I let out a long sigh and squeeze my eyes shut. This fucking sucks. “I’m gonna need you to pick me up.”

Chapter 13

Ash

“I
can’t fucking believe this!” Star says as we near the house. “I mean, who the hell would do that? And why the hell didn’t anyone stop them?” She slams her palms down on the steering wheel so hard that I start to worry she’s going to hurt herself. “What the
fuck
is wrong with this town?”

“Look,” I say as the car pulls to a stop—a little harder than normal, but I get it, she’s pissed. I am, too. I reach out and grab her wrist gently, pulling her hand away from the wheel before she can attack it again, and before I realize what I’m doing, I have our fingers linked together, and I’m squeezing her hand. I freeze for a second, afraid I’ve crossed a line, but after a beat she’s squeezing back. “They’re assholes. But it’s . . . whatever. It’s fine. I’ll deal. I always do.”

“Fuck,” she mutters, and lets her head fall back against the headrest. Her eyes close and she’s silent for a minute. It should be awkward as hell, but for some reason it’s not. It’s . . . nice.

“It’s okay.” I tell her, even though I have no idea what I’m going to do without my car. It was all I had left, and now it’s busted and broken, and everything I own is covered in little pebbles of glass. The guy from the tow truck had just kind of shaken his head at me when I asked him if he thought it could be salvaged and my shoulders had sagged. His answer had been written all over his face.

Not with your kind of money, it can’t.
Fuck.

Star had wanted me to call the cops, get those assholes hauled in, but what was the point? It’s not like I’d be any better off. I’d just draw more attention to myself, and with the way things are going, it’s not like it would do any good. Somehow it’d just get twisted around, be all my fault, and with my luck I’d end up back in prison, having violated some part of my parole. It sucked, but I was dealing with it. In my own screwed-up way.

Which was to say really fucking badly.

I’ve never felt so out of my goddamn depth in my life.

“No. It’s not,” she says, and opens her eyes to look straight at me. I shift in my seat, but I don’t look away. Even though it feels like she’s looking straight down to my damn
soul,
I don’t look away. If anyone has earned the right to see it, it’s this girl. “It’s not okay. This entire town is just so messed up . . . ” She sighs. “The only good thing that’s happened since I got back is that I met you.” Her voice is so quiet I can barely hear her, but her words warm something inside me, something that’s been dead and cold for a long time.

“Come on,” she says, dropping my hand and unbuckling her seat belt. She snags her purse from its home in the space by my feet. “Let’s go inside. The sunlight is killing me.”

A snort escapes me before I can stop it. No wonder she’s pissed. She’s hungover as fuck. I chuckle and try to suppress the smile that’s threatening to break free. Hearing me, she turns and glares, but after a few seconds she cracks and starts smiling. Then we both start laughing.

“Shut up,” she says, reaching over and whapping me gently on the arm before swinging open her door and getting out. “My head’s about to explode.”

Still laughing a little, I unbuckle myself and follow.

We’re halfway up the path when I see it, and a smile spreads across my face. A real one this time. I nudge Star with my elbow.

“Hey,” I say, nodding toward the porch. “It looks like you got another present.”

She turns to me, brow furrowing for an instant, before she turns back to look in the direction I’m jerking my chin toward.

There, on the porch, is another box wrapped in brown paper.

***

“I can’t believe her,” Star says as I drop the box onto the kitchen table. “She must have dropped it off this morning before they left town. I must have missed it when I left to pick you up.” And that doesn’t shock me one bit, the way she’d peeled into the diner’s parking lot with fire in her eyes after I called her. I’m amazed she saw anything but red.

The box itself isn’t that heavy. She could have carried it herself. But really, anything I can do to help out at this point, I’m going to do. Especially since Star ended up having to pay to get my car towed out of the diner’s parking lot. She’d been all apologetic, like somehow this was her fault for not having paid me yet, which is bullshit. Nothing that has happened to me is on her shoulders. Nothing.

She is the one pulling me out of the gutter. I am the one who keeps slipping back down.

“She didn’t have to do this,” Star says, smiling as she fumbles with her keys to find one sharp enough to cut through the tape.

“Somehow, I don’t think Autumn does anything because she
has to,”
I say, poking her in the side as she cuts open the box. “She just does things for you because she wants to.”

Just like you,
I want to say. Because Star sure as hell never had to help me. But she keeps doing it. Over and over again.

Even though I don’t deserve it.

She pulls open the box and starts pulling stuff out. Garbage bags, just like last time. Rolls of twine. More permanent markers, in even more colors. I can’t help but smile at that last one. Autumn must have noticed the “tattoos” Star has been giving herself, the ones I’ve been helping with. So far I’ve added not only the lizard, but a rainbow with music notes and a pretty impressive green dragon, if I do say so myself. It’s a hell of a lot better than the one I have, but then, I’m in a better place now than I was when I got that. Mine is all anger and darkness. The one I drew on Star . . . that one is full of life.

Just like her.

She’s grinning down at the box, and it’s like Christmas all over again with her. Something warm rises up in my chest and I reach over and snag the package of markers off the still-messy table. We haven’t gotten around to clearing it off yet.

I wave them at her. “I think we can figure out something to do with these, don’t you?” I ask, and she nods. But then her smile falters and her eyes widen as she stares into the depths of the box.

“What?” I ask. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing!” she says, and grabs the box flaps and slaps them closed before I can take a step forward. She seems to realize what she just did an instant later, and her face flushes bright pink. “Sorry,” she mutters, but she doesn’t let go of the box, doesn’t let me see. Instead she reaches out and hefts the box up into her arms and turns around.

“I’m just going to…yeah.” Face still burning, she makes her way over to the former pantry—her new bedroom—carrying the box with her. Before I can ask, she’s already on the other side of the door, and it’s swinging shut behind her.

And I’m left standing there, wondering what the hell just happened.

Star

B
y the time I finally get to the diner with my computer that evening—Ash stayed back at the house, not wanting to return to the scene of the crime just yet, not that I blamed him—Autumn must have already gotten back to Climbfield or at least stopped somewhere with Wi-Fi. Because when I open my email, there is already a message there waiting for me from Autumn entitled MUAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!

That’s it. Just a subject line. No text or attachments or anything.

That little brat,
I think, and open up another message. I quickly type out a subject line and hit Send, feeling victorious for a split second before I realize I have to click through a bunch of confirmations and actually convince the program that yes, I would like to send an email without an actual message. Yes. I’m sure.

Jeez. Doesn’t it realize I’m trying to be dramatic?

It finally goes through and to my surprise I get a reply back almost instantly, this time with text.

Re: you are EVIL!!!!

You there? Open chat if you are.

XOXO

A

Smiling, I take a sip of the soda Maisie slides in front of me. I thank her and she grins at me and then turns and does her little pregnant-waddle back to the counter. It’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Ash on zero coffee, so . . .

I open the email’s chat program and click on Autumn’s name. But before I can type anything in the little message bar, a line of text pops up.

AUTUMN: muahhahahahaha!!!!!

STAR: I maintain. You are EVILLLL

STAR: Why the hell did you give me condoms?!?!!!

STAR: Ash was standing right there when I opened the box. He almost saw them!!!

AUTUMN: Good.

STAR: ?????

AUTUMN: Then maybe he would have gotten the hint.

STAR: No idea what you’re talking about. Crazy person.

Lies. All lies. Of course I know what she is talking about. But just thinking about it makes me want to hide my blush behind my soda cup. It burns to know that I was being so freaking obvious about it.

Of course, maybe I am reading into this completely wrong. Maybe Autumn sent me condoms for some other reason . . . that I just can not think of at the moment.

Another message pops up on my screen.

AUTUMN: I’m talking about the fact that you want to climb that man like a tree.

Okay. So not another reason.

It was a long shot, anyway.

STAR: Look, thanks and all, but just drop it, ok?

AUTUMN: But whyyyyy?

I grin despite myself. I can practically hear her dramatic whine from here, two states away. And it is ridiculous. When I first met her, she’d been the quietest person
ever.
It had taken me weeks to get her to talk to me like a normal person. But somewhere in the bonding process, we’d kind of lost filters with each other.

Which was good. Autumn had needed to be cracked out of her shell. College had been good for her. Just like she’d been good for me. Whether I liked to admit it or not, Brick’s disappearance had left a gaping hole in my life. I’d lost my closest friend and my first boyfriend in one fell swoop, and even though he’d always told me how strong I was because of the walls I’d built up around myself, his leaving nearly shattered me. By the time I’d gotten to Climbfield, all I’d needed was a friend.

What I got in Autumn was a sister.

AUTUMN: I need to get my kicks somehow.

AUTUMN: I’m going to end up a virgin for the rest of my life, and it’s not like Roth is the sharing type.

AUTUMN: I have to live through you.

AUTUMN: LET ME LIVE THROUGH YOU.

STAR: Sorry. No can do.

STAR: It’s a dead end. I’m not going to start something with Ash.

AUTUMN: Why not?

STAR: 1. I don’t know if he likes me back.

STAR: 2. We live a million miles away from each other. It wouldn’t work.

All very good reasons, I tell myself as I take another sip of my soda. I should know. I’ve been repeating them to myself over and over for the past few weeks.

AUTUMN: And 3?

STAR: 3?

AUTUMN: You know, reason #3 as to why you’re not making goo-goo eyes at Ash.

AUTUMN: Which, btw, you totally ARE.

I sigh.

STAR: No 3. What? 1&2 not good enough for you?

There is a pause that goes on long enough that I am starting to wonder if the Wi-Fi has crapped out on me again, but then another message pops up.

AUTUMN: Sorry, Roth was talking to me.

AUTUMN: But seriously.

AUTUMN: 1. He definitely likes you back. Don’t be redonkulous.

AUTUMN: 2. There are these things called phones. And cars. And planes. And the interwebs.

AUTUMN: 3. (because I have a #3 and you DON’T!) I’ve never seen you like this with a guy.

AUTUMN: Take a chance.

I sit there, wondering what I should say to that when the bell over the diner’s front door dings, and the door swings open to reveal Ash.

Shit.

I resist the urge to slam my laptop shut. Barely. I only manage because I know it would be super obvious that I was talking about him if I did.

I type.

STAR: Ash is here.

STAR: Gotta go.

AUTUMN: Give him a kiss for me :D

AUTUMN: AND for Roth.

AUTUMN: Roth totally wants you to kiss him for him. He said so.

AUTUMN: Yes you did, Roth. Don’t lie.

I key-smash out something that looks kinda like
talk to you later
and log out of the program just in time to see Ash slide into the booth across from me. “Heeeey,” I say, and instantly try to suppress my wince at just how awkward that came out. “I thought you were staying at the house tonight.” He gives me a crooked little smile.

“Yeah. Changed my mind right after you left so I hoofed it over. Decided I wasn’t going to let them chase me away quite yet. How about you? Everything good with your friends?” he asks, just as Maisie waddles over to drop a glass of water on the table for him. He looks up at her and smiles, and says thanks and she gives him a hesitant half-smile back before turning away. Then, just as suddenly, she stops and turns back.

“Listen,” she says, reaching up and pushing her dark-rimmed glasses further up her nose. “I . . . I’m sorry about your car.” Ash just kind of blinks at her for a moment, looking like his jaw is about to drop open in surprise, and when she is greeted with nothing but silence, she whips back around and hustles away.

We both watch as she goes, and Ash turns to me and shrugs. “Well,” he says, “it’s progress, I guess.” He’s trying to laugh it off. But I can see the sadness in his eyes. Maisie might be an exception, but the rule where the people around here just don’t trust him is still in effect. They don’t know him and the prevailing opinion seems to be that they don’t
want
to know him.

Which sucks. Ash is amazing.

And nice.

And really good looking.

And
shit.
Autumn was right. I do want to climb him like a tree.

Crap.

I’m lucky he didn’t see the condoms. Really lucky. I probably looked like a crazy person, slamming the flaps of the box closed like I did, and squirreling the box away in my room before he could take a peek, but I didn’t have any other option. What Ash and I have, it is good. I’m not going to ruin it by letting my stupid feelings show.

No matter how strong they are starting to get.