My Sweetest Escape (39 page)

detergent, but we would never, ever be out

of Nutella.

Tearing the croissant up, she unscrewed

the jar of Nutella and dipped a knife in and

slathered the chocolate goodness on the

croissant pieces.

“Trust me. Hunter didn’t back down

when I pushed him away, and Dusty is the

same way.” I looked around, but no one

was listening or watching us.

“What are you talking about, baby?”

Hunter said, coming up behind Taylor and

putting his head on her shoulder.

“Yeast infections,” she said with a wink

at me.

“Yum. You gonna share some of that?”

he said, pointing to her Nutella-covered

croissant bits.

She sighed and held one up for him and

he ate it from her fingers and she laughed

as he licked the chocolate off. Taylor gave

me a look, and at first I didn’t understand it,

but then she reached out and pulled me

close so she could whisper in my ear.

“Let him in. You’ll regret it if you don’t.

Trust me.”

She let me go and went back to feeding

Hunter parts of her croissant. I went back

into the living room and found Dusty

messing around with Hunter’s guitar. I

didn’t know he could play.

Everyone else was still in the kitchen

and I had the feeling that they were trying

to give us some privacy.

“Have any requests, Red?” he said,

strumming the instrument as if he was born

with one in his hand.

“You can play?”

“Yeah, Hunter’s been teaching me. I feel

like you kind of have to play if you’re a

music teacher. You know, for sing-alongs

and stuff.” Well, those must have been

some damn good lessons, because it was

obvious that he was a natural.

“What was that song you sang to me last

night at Hannah’s?”

I said quietly so no one would overhear.

“Oh, ‘Live and Die’ by the Avett

Brothers. I’m surprised you didn’t know

that one.” I’d gotten a few of their CDs, but

not all of them. He started the upbeat song,

which had a sweet melody that somehow

worked with the lyrics, which might have

been taken from a

much-less-jaunty-sounding song.

Dusty’s singing voice was deeper than I

would have thought, and I could tell he’d

had to take the song down a few keys to

make it work for him, but he’d done it

flawlessly.

I couldn’t help but tap my feet to the

addicting chorus, and I felt the eyes and

ears of everyone in the kitchen on me and

Dusty. He kept his eyes on me the whole

time, barely even blinking. A smile of pure

joy was stuck on his face, and I couldn’t

help but smile, too. He strummed the last

note of the song and I laughed.

“What next, Red?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to. I like playing. It’s one of the

only things that makes me truly and

completely happy.” He leaned over the

guitar and lowered his voice. “Besides you,

of course.”

I shot a look behind me, but everyone

scrambled to pre tend they hadn’t been

eavesdropping. “Dusty.”

“What? I can’t say that you make me

happy? Damn, Red. Harsh.”

“Play whatever you want. It doesn’t

matter to me,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Okay. I will.”

And then he started a song that made

me want to beg him to stop and pick

another song. After seeing that picture of

Nathan, my memories of him were fresh

and raw and this song was just going to

make it worse.

Dusty somehow did justice to the Ingrid

Michaelson version of “Creep,” although I

had no idea how. Their voices were galaxies

apart, but Dusty took her soft version and

added a little bit of the edge back in,

making it a little harder, a little more

heart-wrenching, and I couldn’t take it.

I got up from the couch and Dusty

stopped, slamming his hand on the guitar to

stop the strings from vibrating.

“I can’t.” And then I dramatically dashed

from the room, ran downstairs and

slammed my door before he, and everyone

else, could see me crying.

Of course, given the fact that I lived with

a crap ton of people, someone was bound

to come after me. A soft knock at my door

made me look up from my pillow. I’d

thrown myself on my bed, hoping to get

myself together so I could explain it to

whoever came to ask me what the hell was

going on.

“Joscelyn.” Of course it was Dusty. They

couldn’t have sent Taylor, or Mase, or even

Renee. I wondered how hard he had to fight

to be the one to come and check on me.

“Go away, Dusty. Seriously. Just leave

me the fuck alone.

Go back to your apartment. I’m sure

Napoleon is missing you.”

“I’m not going away. I thought I made

that pretty damn clear.” I heard him slide to

the floor outside the door. “So you can stay

in there all you want, but eventually you

will need food, or the bathroom, or to get

some more Skittles and M&M’s, and I’m

going to be here.”

“Why can’t you find someone else?” I

said, throwing my pillow at the door. It was

a pointless thing to do and didn’t make me

feel any better.

“I don’t want anyone else, Red. I want

you.”

“Well, I don’t want you.”

He laughed, and I wished I could reach

through the door and strangle him.

“I think I can smell your pants burning

from here.”

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t

you?” I got up and spoke through the door

so he could hear me loud and clear.

“Sometimes.”

“Dusty. Please. Just leave. Me. Alone.”

He was silent for a moment. I thought

he was going to finally go away, but I didn’t

hear him get up.

Then I heard him singing softly. “This” by

Ed Sheeran. I adored that song, under

normal circumstances.

“You’re not going to get me to come out

by singing, so just stop it.” He didn’t. The

song continued, and Dusty’s voice got

louder and stronger.

“Shut the fuck up!” I screamed,

pounding on the door. It was just too much.

I tried to drown him out, but I couldn’t.

I kicked the door repeatedly, trying

whatever I could, short of opening the door

and punching his lights out, to get him to

stop and go away.

“SHUT UP!” His voice was calm and

smooth as he sang.

I kicked the door one more time and

screamed in frustration. He ignored me.

I panted from my freak-out and sat on

the floor. My nose was running, so I wiped

it on my sleeve.

“Why won’t you stop?” I said, not loud

enough for him to hear. “I’m the reason

your brother is dead. Why can’t you

understand that and leave me alone?” The

song cut off.

“What did you say?” There was no way

he could have heard me.

“Nothing.” I moved closer to the door.

“Dusty?”

“Yes, Jos.”

“Do you think you could ever hate me?”

He shifted on the other side of the door,

and his voice got closer, as if he was talking

through the crack between the door and

the frame.

“Listen to me, Joscelyn. I want you to

really hear what I’m saying. If you don’t

believe any other thing I say, believe this.

There is nothing,
nothing,
you could, or

would ever do, that would make me hate

you. You’re not capable of doing something

to cause anyone to hate you. I know that.

And I also know that…that I love you.”

I started to cry again, putting my head

against the door. It was solid and

reassuring, and that was what I needed.

“You wouldn’t if you knew, Dusty. You

wouldn’t.” I put my hand on the door, and

somehow I knew he was doing the same on

the other side.

“Oh, Jos. I just… I want to touch you and

hold you so bad right now. Can you please

let me in? Please.” I reached my hand up

and unlocked the door.

“It’s open,” I said, scooting back from

the door as he turned the knob and opened

the door slowly.

I looked up and there he was.

“Oh, sweet girl.” He crouched down next

to me and picked me up and set me down

on my bed, stretching out beside me and

brushing the tears from my face. He kissed

the tip of my nose and I couldn’t stop him.

“Dusty, don’t.”

“Stop telling me what to do, Jos. For this

once, I’m not going to be a gentleman and

listen to you.” He pulled me tight against

him, and I struggled a little to get free, but

his arms were like steel cables and I didn’t

really try that hard.

“Let me. Just let me for a little while.”

He locked his arms around me and I turned

my head so it was against his chest.

His heart pounded like the rough beat of

a drum, and I listened to it, trying to let

everything else go.

Once he was sure I wasn’t going to try to

get away from him, his hands loosened on

my back and started moving up and down

in soothing waves.

The tears continued, but they weren’t as

bad as before.

He didn’t sing. He didn’t speak. He just

held me and breathed with me and let me

cry my tears into his shirt until I was wrung

out and didn’t have any left. At least for

now.

My arm was falling asleep, so I shifted

and he tensed up.

“Sorry. I just need to move.” He

loosened his grip, and I turned so I was in a

better position. One of his hands went

under my chin, tipping my face up so he

could look at it.

“I’m a mess. I know,” I said as he

brushed some of my hair out of my eyes.

“A beautiful mess I don’t know how I got

myself roped into.”

“I didn’t rope you.”

“Yes, you did. It just isn’t your fault.”

That
wasn’t, maybe.

“Joscelyn?”

“Mmm?”

“You’re not this upset about the virginity

thing, are you?”

I couldn’t lie anymore. “No.”

“It’s something else. Something bigger.”

I nodded with his hand still under my

chin.

“Then I have to tell you that you’re not

the only one who has something so big and

so bad that they can’t tell anyone.

You’re not the only one. Do you

understand?”

“What?” I’d known there were lots of

secrets about Dusty’s past that he would

rather leave buried, but I just assumed he

had a bad home life, or he’d been abused,

or something like that. What was it with

people and secrets? I seemed to attract

them. First Hannah and now Dusty.

“But you know what? Compared with

the thought of losing you, my secret doesn’t

seem so big anymore. You’re the first

person I’ve told about this.”

I tried to put my hand on his mouth, but

he moved it.

“No, I’m going to tell you, not because I

want to, but I need you to hear it.” I held on

to his shirt. “You saw that picture of me and

my brother, right?” Oh, no. Oh,

nonononono.

I stiffened in his arms, but he didn’t stop

talking.

“Well, he died. Nine months ago. And

it’s my fault.”

At the exact moment my brain took the

things he said and translated them, I was

sure my heart stopped.

I sat up, wrenching myself out of his

arms.

“I can’t listen to this. I can’t, I can’t, I

can’t.” I dived for the door, but Dusty

stopped me, trying to pull me back.

“Let me go, let me go, let me go!” I

screamed. My door burst open and Dusty

froze.

“What the hell do you think you’re

doing?!” Dusty let go of me and Renee

pulled me away from him. “I think you need

to get the fuck out of this house and I hope

the door hits you on the way out.”

“I’m so sorry… . I just…” Renee held me

and turned her body so she was between

me and Dusty.

“Get. The. Fuck. OUT.” He gave me one

last desperate look and pushed past us and

went up the stairs.

“Did he do anything to you?” Renee