King 03 - Restless (17 page)

I debated with myself the rest of the ride home: could I live with simply letting Rafe disappear from my life? In some ways, it would solve a lot of my problems. Amber would be relieved; so would my parents, I was sure. But the idea of hurting someone else, especially Rafe—no, I couldn’t do it. Not if I could avoid it. 

My mother had dinner on the table when I got home. She smiled at me tentatively, and that guilt was back. My parents both walked on eggshells around me these days, never sure whether I was going to be a screeching banshee or a silent zombie. I really had to pull it together.

It was easier to be human tonight, with the sweet memory of the water play still fresh in my mind. I lingered at the dinner table, listening to my mother rave about her co-workers—apparently she really liked the job—and my dad talk about his plans for mulching in the garden over the weekend. When I had cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher (two chores I had abandoned weeks ago), I slipped into my room to face another round of reparations.

I dialed the number carefully, wondering if he’d even answer. After five rings, I was about to give up when I heard the slightest click and a very cautious voice.

“Yeah?”

I winced. There was a load of meaning in that one syllable, and none of it was good.

“Rafe. Hey, it’s me. I’m just checking in, as promised.” I tried to keep my tone light.

“Really? So you don’t talk to me for days and then I’m supposed to be grateful that you remembered to call me?”

I drew a deep breath. He was going to make this hard. Had I really expected anything different?

“I just thought—” I began, but he interrupted me angrily.

“And what are you doing checking in anyway? You don’t hang with the witch on Fridays. Or is this something new? Thanks for keeping me in the loop.”

I swallowed hard. “I did see Marica today. She says I’m doing so well that we should meet more often. And it was good, I learned so much today.”

“I don’t think I want to hear about it.” His voice was curt.

“Oh… okay.” I sniffed. “I… Rafe, I’m sorry about this week. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

I heard a hiss of breath through the phone. In my mind, I could see Rafe raking his hand through his hair in his typical gesture of frustration. “Tasmyn, you can’t have it both ways. One day everything’s fine, then I do one thing wrong—and sometimes I don’t even know what I’ve done—and you’re either not talking to me or you’re mad and yelling. I can’t do it. Sometimes I don’t even know who you are.”

Join the club
, I thought wryly. Aloud, I said, “I know. I know, Rafe. I know I’m a mess. I’m way too much trouble.”

This time it was a deep sigh, loud enough for me to hear. “Tas, I don’t want to do this over the phone. Can you come over here?”

I considered briefly. I really didn’t want to rock the precarious peace between my parents and me, and the idea of getting back into the car made me tired. But I knew Rafe was right. It would be better to hash this out face to face.

“I don’t think that will fly with my parents tonight. And I’m kind of trying to keep things mellow between them and me. Could you come over here?”

He was quiet for a moment. “I guess so. But we won’t have much privacy there, unless your parents are cool with me being in your bedroom.” 

I tried to picture my father’s face if I led Rafe into my room and closed the door. Even in my head the image made me shudder. My parents had relaxed lots of house rules since we moved to King, but that wasn’t one of them. Michael, who had won my parents’ complete trust, had never seen the inside of my room; Rafe didn’t have a chance.

“We can sit outside,” I answered him. “It’ll be plenty private.” 

After we ended the call, I went in search of my mom, determined to be as open and considerate as I could manage under the circumstances. I found her in the office, completely involved in sketching on a pad.

I cleared my throat. “Hey, Mom? Would it be okay if Rafe came over for a little while? I thought we could just hang out on the porch.”

My mom’s eyes were still distant, and she blinked, coming back to the real world. “Rafe? I guess so.” She frowned, and I could feel her mind working, though I carefully blocked her thoughts. “I’m still not clear on what’s going on with you and Rafe. But…” She lifted her gaze to my face and attempted a smile. “I guess you’ve got it under control, right? And if you didn’t, you’d talk to me?”

There didn’t seem to be a good answer to those questions, so I decided to only answer the last one. I nodded.

I waited for Rafe on the front porch swing, idly pushing myself back and forth with the toe of my sneaker. I had only been rocking for a few minutes when his red car purred to a stop at the curb.

He didn’t bound up the steps as he usually did. He walked up slowly, hands in the pockets of his jacket, and I realized he hadn’t seen me yet. I took advantage of the opportunity to watch him… and listen.

This is a waste. I should’ve just ended it on the phone. Or let her end it. Why drag it out?

I knew the minute he spotted me. There was a stutter in both his step and thoughts. 

“Hey,” I said softly. 

He huffed out a breath. “I didn’t see you up there. What, are you taking stealth lessons from the witch now?”

I pinched my lips together. “Please, Rafe. Let’s not start out that way. Come on. Sit down.” I patted the seat next to me on the swing. Rafe hesitated, and then dropped into the chair across from me. I smothered a sigh. Yup, he wasn’t going to make this easy.

He sat forward, with his hands dangling between his knees and his eyes downcast. His jaw was tense.

“Rafe… about what happened Tuesday. What made me mad was that you used me to make a point. You didn’t trust me to take care of the situation with Marica. Can you understand that?”

He nodded without looking up. “Sure. You didn’t like it. I get that. But I called right away to apologize. And you wouldn’t even listen.”

I pulled my leg under me on the swing. “I was so annoyed. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to listen. I needed some space.”

Rafe finally raised his eyes to mine. “So I’m supposed to just hang around until you get your mad off? Wait until you’re ready to play nice again? That doesn’t sound like a relationship to me.”

“That’s not fair,” I protested. “It was—I needed to deal with it. And Rafe, you’re talking like we have some kind of long-term thing going here. It’s been a week since I went out with you the first time.
A week
. That’s it. I think it’s a little early to be tossing around words like ‘relationship’.”

Rafe winced, and I felt horrible all over again. I wasn’t wrong, but I could have said it better. More gently.

“No, I guess not,” he said slowly. “What we have is just… what? Some groping and kissing? Making out? Purely physical? It’s not something romantic and beautiful. Not a love for the ages. Not like you and Michael.”

My eyes stung, and I curled my legs in against my chest, trying to stave off the pain. “That’s… cruel. Why do you say things like that? Are you trying to hurt me?” I buried my face into my knees, swallowing the sobs that threatened. The swing moved back and forth.

Rafe was silent for a few minutes. I felt turmoil, confusion, pain. Finally, he spoke. 

“No. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on here. A week ago, you were kissing me in the park. By Monday, you just wanted to be friends. Then you showed up at my house, and you didn’t seem to mind being near me then. And then the next day, I kiss you in the parking lot, and it happens to be in front of the witch. I didn’t exactly plan it that way, but I thought it worked out okay. And it’s like you were just waiting for me to do something wrong. You had your excuse for avoiding me, for not talking to me. So I figured that was it. 

“But then you call me tonight, and suddenly you want to be my friend again. Do you want more than that? I don’t know. I can’t tell. I’m not the mind reader, after all.” He dropped his head again.

I rested my chin on my knees, unshed tears still swimming in my eyes. “You’re right, Rafe,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve been really unfair to you. I don’t blame you if you want to just leave and never see me again.” I swiped at my eyes furiously, trying to make the tears disappear. 

Rafe didn’t answer, but he did lean back against his chair and look at me steadily.

“I feel like my life is out of control,” I went on. “I don’t know why I’m doing what I am. When I’m with Marica, it seems right, but then I leave and I feel so anxious. When you and I are together, it makes sense. I like you. But then I keep hurting you. And I don’t want to do that. I’m miserable.” I sucked in a sobbing breath.

“Tas.” Rafe moved quickly, and the swing moved back as he sat next to me. “I’m sorry. I was frustrated and mad—but I should remember that you’re dealing with a lot of stuff.  Please don’t cry.” He pulled me closer, holding me with one arm and stroking my hair with the other hand. 

“I’m not—crying,” I hiccupped. 

“Okay. You’re not.” He was humoring me, but I appreciated the comfort so much that I didn’t protest.

“Are you going to accuse me of using you to satisfy my physical needs again?” I sniffled. 

I felt Rafe’s smile against my hair. “Nah. Not tonight anyway. I’m willing to put a brave face on it all and make that sacrifice.” He dropped his hand to my chin and tipped it up toward his. I felt those blue eyes boring into mine, as though he were really trying to see into my head. In the end, though, he settled for covering my mouth with his. The swing creaked, and I held onto Rafe.

Hey. It’s me. I guess you figured that out. It’s another weekend, which means I’m holed up, studying. Cathryn wants to come by tonight, but I’m not sure I want that. It’s not that I mind talking to her about you. It’s just that when she leaves, I’m alone and missing you even more. I love you, Tas. Call me.

Even after Rafe went home late that night, I felt as though we had left things unsettled. He had carefully avoided any more serious talk, asking me instead about my session with Marica. He grinned along with me when I described the water dancing.

And although he kept his arm firmly around my shoulders and toyed with my hair now and then, he seemed more interested in conversation than in kissing. 

Just as he was getting ready to leave, he turned back around. I could feel his hesitation before he spoke.

“My grandmother wanted me to ask you to come over tomorrow. She said she’d like to talk with you about King… and some other stuff.” 

I tilted my head as I looked up at Rafe. “Really? I thought your grandmother knew everything. Did she want me coming over when you and I weren’t talking?”

Rafe’s mouth curled into that familiar half-smile. “I guess she does know everything, because she told me to invite you as I was walking out the door tonight. Good thing she’s not a mind-reader, because she would have heard some stuff that wasn’t very nice as my answer.”

I smiled. “Well, I’d really like to come over, if that’s okay with you. I like your grandmother, even if she does make me kind of nervous.”

So shortly after noon the next day, I pulled up the long Brooks driveway, with only a slight edge of nerves. My parents hadn’t said too much about my plans for the day, although my mother brightened somewhat when I explained that I was trying to learn more about the history of our adopted hometown.

“Mrs. Brooks’ family has been in King forever,” I told her. “I think she’ll have some really cool stories.” 

“Sounds good,” my mom agreed. “But try to keep away from the less—um, normal history of the town. We’ve had enough of that, I think.” 

I quelled a nervous laugh and nodded, hoping I looked convincing. 

The door opened before I had climbed the steps to the porch, and Rafe stood leaning against the jam. 

“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted me. “Ready for your grilling?”

My eyes widened, startled. “What do you mean? I thought this was just a talk about King.”

Rafe laughed and pulled me inside. “I’m just teasing you. I guess my blocking really does work, huh? You couldn’t hear what I was thinking?”