Finding Me (21 page)

The afternoon with Mindi and the girls goes smoothly for the most part. There’s still accusation in Juliet’s light blue eyes, blaming me for being absent for the majority of her life. It fills me with bursts of guilt and anguish that don’t mix well with the panic and fear that’s been settling in me since the unannounced brunette visitor this morning.

“Suivez votre cœur,”

–Dr. David Bosse

“W
hat do you want to do tonight? Anything sound good for dinner besides more tacos?” Kendall asks with a grin as we make our way back into San Diego. This is the third day that I’ve spent with Mindi, gaining small successes with Juliet when she didn’t scream at me when my oldest sister left the two of us alone together to take a call.

Where’s Max?
The question is on the tip of my tongue and is just the beginning of the assault of questions that I have for her. “I’m up for whatever,” I reply instead, changing the radio from the station I know is programmed from Jameson. “By the way, did you move my blue shirt?”

“Blue shirt?”

“Yeah, the one I wore Friday with the family.”

“It isn’t in your bag?”

“I thought I left it in a pile on my suitcase with some other things that were dirty, but I couldn’t find it when I was sorting stuff this morning.”

“That’s weird.” Kendall looks at me with her brows furrowed.

“I probably just missed it. It’s probably buried in the bottom of one of my bags. I just thought I’d ask in case you had taken it.”

Wes comes over for dinner, and falls asleep shortly after at the far end of the sectional. Landon offers for me to sleep in his room, insisting he won’t mind sleeping on the other side of the couch, as does Jameson. I decline both of their offers, knowing that they have to work in the morning, and that Wes will never cross a line with me. We’re only friends, and it’s been that way for a very long time.

Listening to Wes mumble for the hundredth time in the last hour, I realize I should have taken them up on it. I’ve never known anyone to really talk in their sleep, let alone this much! It’s driving me half crazy because even though I really couldn’t care less about what he’s saying, my brain keeps working to decipher his sleep-encoded words, interrupting me from worrying about Kitty. Today Mindi volunteered to go visit the cemetery with me again. It was the second time she mentioned it—the fifth that it’s been brought up in total—forcing the thoughts of the loss of my father, and potential loss of Kitty, to the forefront of my mind.

My eyes fly open and my mind feels alert. Normally nightmares wake me up like this, but this time, nothing is haunting me.

I look around the dark living room, feeling my heart race, and then realize what woke me up. A loud train of curses followed by a whine and a scratching at the door makes my heart squeeze. I sit up slightly, my eyes and ears desperately seeking the night for the confirmation that I’m not dreaming. A scraping against the lock sends my heart rate to unhealthy levels as my eyes widen and my muscles tense. When I hear the key turn, I drop back to the couch, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to bury my face in my pillow as I try to make my breathing sound normal.

I can tell when the door is opened by the click of Zeus’s nails against the hardwood floors growing closer to me. His voice is hushed as he calls out to Zeus, making my entire body pulse with familiarity and nerves. Zeus’s heavy breathing grows until he places his front paws on the couch in front of me and begins bathing me in heavy kisses. There’s no way to try and pretend I’m sleeping through this. I’ll drown first. Plus my need to see him is outweighing my fears.

I sit up and wipe a hand down my face, searching the dark living room for him as Zeus pushes closer to me, whimpering with anticipation and what can only be described as unleashed excitement.

Then he appears in front of the coffee table. It’s too dark to make out much of him, but every fiber of my being feels some sort of response, verifying that it’s him. Elation and fear, mixed with rage and jealousy, are topped with curiosity and pain. It’s a confounding and stifling overabundance of emotions that has my eyes staring wide at him, soaking up every last detail that I can manage in the dim light while Zeus works to climb higher on the couch, hovering over me.

Max stares back at me and although it’s too dark to see the blueness of his eyes, I can see the fierceness in them. He looks pissed. No relief, no happiness like Zeus, just anger.

“Zeus,” he calls again in a tone I’ve rarely heard.

“It’s alright. He can stay.” Thankfully my voice barely comes out above a whisper because my emotions are shooting through me like vinegar when it meets baking soda—unsteady.

He stares at me, and like a geyser, unspoken words flood my mind. “Hey, Max.”

He must be just as shocked as I am that I was able to speak those words because as soon as his name hits my lips, he turns and ascends the stairs without responding. His bedroom door slams and then silence rings in my ears.

I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye and turn to see Landon in the hallway, running a hand over his jaw, wearing only a pair of gym shorts. His head turns from the stairs to me, and then he silently walks to the couch.

“He’s…”

“It’s okay,” I say when the rest of his words don’t seem to find their way out. “This is his house too.”

“He’s not mad at you.”

I turn to look at him in obvious disbelief. Anyone would have been able to see that Max was mad at me. His reaction wasn’t shocking exactly. Max lost one of his best friends, just like I had. There have been days that I have felt really angry over the whole situation too. Angry that I didn’t know how to communicate my feelings, and angry about the way he dealt with my insecurities. I still struggle with being angry over removing myself and moving to Delaware because I thought it would be the right decision for me.

Kitty and I have discussed my tendency to run from awkward situations; she’s the one who provided me with the new term “remove myself from.” It sounds a lot better than fleeing, but I had fled, and I know it. I can give a hundred reasons why for each time too, rationalizing each situation until I’m nearly positive it was the right decision—but I can never make it to one hundred percent. That small bubble of resistance and doubt always prevents me from being able to allow the memories to finally be discarded, and then it begins spreading, eating the conviction one doubt at a time.

“I understand why he’s mad. I just don’t understand why he’s so angry when he’s obviously moved on.”

Landon stares at me and the silence of the room grows. Questions run through his eyes, but I know his friendship to Max is shutting each of them down.

I nod my head in the direction of the front door. “I met his girlfriend today.”

Landon’s jaw visibly clenches and then a loud sigh leaves his nose. His shadowed eyes move to Zeus who has taken up two-thirds of the couch, and he reaches out to pet him. “What did she say?” he asks quietly.

“Not much.”

“She’s not … they’re not … it’s not like that.”

“Like what?”

Landon stares at me, the same internal war present across his features.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. I understand,” I assure him.

Wes’s mumbling and heavy breaths stop, and I turn to look at the far end of the couch. He’s blinking, trying to focus on Landon, Zeus, and me. “Shit!” he growls. Sitting up, his attention focuses on Landon who looks at him with grim resolve.

“Would you guys stop? Seriously, it’s okay. In the morning I’m going to call Mindi and go stay over at their house.”

“Ace, no,” Wes replies, his tone harsher than I’ve ever heard.

“Yeah, no. Stay, Ace,” Landon adds.

“I’ll still see you guys. It won’t be a big deal. This way you guys get your living room back, and he gets to be in his house. I can’t ask him to leave and go back to …” I hold out my arm because I have no idea where he’s been staying, and the question hurts my chest. “This is his home.”

“If you stay with Mindi and Kyle, we’ll barely see you,” Wes interjects.

“This decision can’t just be about me. I’m not leaving this time because I’m uncomfortable. I’m leaving because it’s the right thing to do.”

“If you leave, Kendall’s going to hate him, and you know what that will do.” Landon’s words are calculated; he knows what he’s just thrown at my feet. Do I want my relationship with Max to interfere with her relationship with him and chance how that will then affect Max and Jameson’s friendship? I promised her that if anything happened we would all be civil adults, and although moving houses seems like the appropriate thing to do, I know Landon’s right. I know Kendall will blame Max even though it wouldn’t be his fault.

Zeus pushes his head against me once more, sensing my unease. Max’s bedroom door opens. All of us turn to the balcony and see the light from Max’s room escape into the dark hallway.

“Landon,” Max barks before his feet hit the stairs.

Panic stirs in me, knotting my stomach so tight I feel as though I’ve just run a mile on a full stomach. I don’t know if he just knows that Landon heard him because Landon is such a light sleeper—he hears everything—or if our quiet voices had travelled up the stairs.

“Why don’t you take Zeus outside?” Landon says, turning to Wes. Wes looks at him defiantly, his chin sharp. I stand up, bringing Zeus with me like a shadow.

“Come on,” I say, waiting for Wes to stand up.

Wes collapses at the patio table with a mumble of curses. Zeus wanders into the yard, and I sit across from Wes, folding my arms across my chest as the slightly cool breeze touches my skin.

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” The agitation on his face begins to break as he fights a smile, and I nod. “You talk a lot. Like Jameson, when he’s awake.”

“No one talks as much as J,” he says with a sheepish smile, turning his focus to the table between us.

“You’re wrong. You do. At least when you’re asleep you do.”

His eyes meet mine and the amusement that started to break through is replaced with a stoic expression. He’s hiding emotions, making my mind race to know if I want to know any of them or if I should be working to distract him again. “Ace, please don’t leave.”

I’ve hurt him. I’ve hurt all of them in some variance. Each of them have been affected from what I thought was my own internal battle—but it never was. Each day that I’m here, I see more of the scars from the shrapnel that flew the day my world exploded.

“Is he happy?”

Wes shakes his head a few times somberly and then looks up at the night sky. “He hasn’t been happy in a long time. You know that.”

“I met her.”

“You met who?” His face betrays the fact that he already knows the answer to his question.

“She’s really pretty.”

Wes breathes out a curse and rubs his hand across his forehead. “When in the hell did she show up?”

“Monday.”

“Monday?”

I nod in confirmation and he releases another groan mixed with an expletive.

“I’m not going to run, Wes. I know you guys are all walking on egg shells, waiting for me to freak out, but I’m okay. I don’t need to be protected.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about her.”

“It’s okay.” I try to make my words sound strong, but they come out warbled and quiet.

“I didn’t know how to … I mean, I didn’t want you to…”

“It’s okay,” I interrupt him, meeting his light blue eyes in the glow of the patio lights. “I’m ok—”

“Wes, can you give us a minute?” Max’s words arrive before he does looking rigid and defensive. It’s clear that although he phrased his words as a question, it’s not as he steps closer.

I take the opportunity to look over him with the added light. His hair’s longer and his face is just starting to get the hint of stubble on it, revealing that he shaved this morning. His hands and arms look warm and familiar, but his expression is anything but.

My fingers grip the lip of the chair as I work to interpret every detail of his expression. Anger’s still evident, but I swear there’s more—unless my own hope is just clouding my senses.

He slowly walks to the chair Wes had occupied seconds ago and takes a seat. His red T-shirt is as unfamiliar as the vibes that are rolling at me like waves, crashing against my already weakened hope.