Phase (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #1) (31 page)

BOOK: Phase (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #1)
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Max looked like he was going to grumble some more, so I tried to disarm the situation.

“Hey, Maxie,” I said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “How’s it hanging?”

“You found her again then?” I heard Dad ask Angel with his mock-stern voice.

“Yeah,” Angel replied. “She’s not hard to find when you know where to look.” Her eyes danced with amusement when they met mine. “Like a rodeo in Georgia.”

I gave her a death stare.

“You went to a rodeo?” Max asked. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Uh, yeah,” I lied. “Didn’t understand a thing that was happening though, so I can’t really tell you about it.”

“Liar!”
Angel mouthed the word to me and I wanted to give her the finger, except I knew what she was trying to do. She figured if she forced me to reveal what happened with Beau, it was likely to help pave the road to something more. She was a hopeless romantic despite her own disastrous love life.

“Back off,”
I mouthed back.

“Okay, let’s get this show back on the road, shall we?” Dad asked, thankfully missing our exchange. “Now who’s going in what car? Angel, do you need a lift?”

“That’d be awesome. Thanks, Mr. Reede.”

“It’s just Dec,” he said. He’d told her the same thing for years, but Angel’s mother had ingrained manners into Angel with her fists. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed my bag and Mum reached for Nikki’s pram, but I got there first.

“Your mum isn’t coming today?” Mum asked. Because Mum always tried to find the good in people, Angel’s mum’s shittiness never failed to surprise her.

“Knowing Mum, she’ll be at the bottom of a bottle somewhere and won’t even know it’s time for me to come home.”

“Sorry, kiddo.” Dad rubbed her back in a comforting way. He knew the draw of the bottle, having fought it himself so long ago. Thankfully, he’d won.

“It’s okay. I got some good news on the trip,” she said. “I got a job. It’s going to involve travelling all around Australia and a couple of trips back to the US.”

“That’s terrific,” Mum said. “I know Pheebs will miss you whenever you’re gone.”

“I’m right here, Mum.”

“I don’t know,” Angel said as Dad loaded my suitcase into the boot of Mum’s Mazda. “I think she’ll have something else to occupy her thoughts.”

“Angel!” I snapped.

Once Dad had grabbed her bags too, she shrugged and climbed into the passenger seat of the Mazda. It might have looked like she was taking liberties to anyone who didn’t know, but she understood me enough to know I’d want to sit in the back with whoever came with us in Mum’s car. Especially after being away from them for six weeks.

“What was that about?” Mum asked when we had a second alone.

My skin flushed with heat. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Are you all right?”

I nodded. “Fine. Ready to head home.”

“I wanna go in the car with Phoebe,” Beth shouted.

“But that’s where I sat on the way here,” Max complained, his gaze cutting to me. “You were in the other car.”

Brock slapped his chest. “Dude, it’s not that big a deal. We’ll go in Dad’s car. He’s a better driver anyway.”

“Hey!” Mum protested.

“Sorry, Mum, but he’s right,” I said with a laugh.

“I should make you walk for that crack,” she said.

“You probably should, but you won’t.” I kissed her cheek and climbed into the car.

As Mum manoeuvred out of the carpark, I stared out the window and wondered how real life could possibly compare to the trip I’d had.

 

 

 

LESS THAN A day after getting home, the reality of being back in a house filled with kids struck hard. It came with a squealing wake-up call as Beth raced through the house.

I shoved my pillow over my head and tried to block out the sound. After weeks of practical solitude and silence in the mornings, it was a rude awakening. Especially when it tugged me from a dream of being back with Beau. Of his arms wrapping around me and his stubble tickling my fingertips.

Because I’d been a zombie on my feet by the time we got home the night before, I’d simply showered and headed straight to bed. No one had the chance to ask about the trip, so I’d managed to avoid the conversation with Mum about Beau for a little longer.

Just when I thought that maybe the noise outside my door had stopped, Beth raced back up the hallway, rushing in the other direction screaming at Parker.

“Would you two knock it off!” Brock shouted from his room.

I wrapped both my arms around my pillow, wondering how tightly I could squeeze it around my ears without suffocating myself.

“Phoebe!” Beth screamed, knocking hard on my door. “Phoebe, Brock’s being mean to Parker.”

With a growl, I tossed my pillow onto the mattress and climbed from the bed. “How did you guys cope without me for six weeks?” I muttered under my breath.

I followed the noise to Parker’s room. When I found them, Brock had Parker pinned against the wall.

“Brock, leave him alone.”

While keeping Parker pinned to the wall, Brock turned to me and shouted, “He started it!”

I put my hands on my hips and gave him a pointed stare. “He’s seven and he’s half your size. There’s no excuse for you pinning him against the wall.”

“He was teasing me.”

“Big deal. Put him down and apologise.”

Brock narrowed his eyes at me before shoving Parker away. “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding anything but.

“Parker?” I prompted. There was no way I was going to let him go without apologising too.

“What? It’s not my fault that Brockie has a girlfriend.”

Brock shoved him again. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Letting them both know with a stern glare that I meant business, I said, “Just stop it. Both of you. I haven’t even been back a day, and I don’t need this.” I spun on my heels and crashed into someone who’d come into the room behind me.

Max threw his arms out to catch me, wrapping them around me at the last moment.

“Oh, Maxie,” I said, stepping out of his hold as fast as I could. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“’S all right.” His gaze trailed my body, making me hyper aware of my barely dressed state. Everything was covered, but without a bra, the outline of my breasts was very clear beneath the threadbare T-shirt I’d slept in.

I crossed my arms over my chest, hiding my nipples. With my frown, I let him know I’d seen the path of his gaze and that I wasn’t happy about it.

He flushed red and glanced away.

Brock punched his shoulder as he walked past us. “C’mon, let’s go back to my room.” He gave me a foul look.

Fucking moody teenagers.

“Parker, you can’t tease your brother,” I said after Max and Brock were gone. “He’s going through some stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Like stuff that you’ll understand in a few years. But for now, it’s just easier if you don’t tease him about girls, ’kay, bud?”

“’Kay, Pheebs.”

“You two should go have some breakfast.”

“We’ve had some,” Beth said. “You should have some.”

“I should,” I agreed. “I’ve just got a couple of things to do first.”

With that sorted, I headed back to my room, half closing the door behind me. I put my suitcase on my bed and started to unpack. I started a pile of dirty clothes and put all the gifts I’d bought for everyone on my bed. As I moved, I found a place in my room for each of the personal mementos I’d picked up.

After I’d finished unpacking the big things, I grabbed all the pamphlets, brochures, and souvenir photos I’d collected and started to sort through them. When I shifted the pile, a strip of photos fluttered to the floor.

When I bent to pick them up, my breath caught in my throat. Even though I knew they were the photos Beau and I had taken at The Fun Spot, I hadn’t adequately prepared myself for the memories that came flooding in at the sight. Wasn’t even sure I
could
adequately prepare myself for them.

It was ridiculous how knotted up my insides were over him. The tender expression on his face as he’d stared at me still sent my stomach fluttering. My eyes trailed the photos, taking in every detail. I sat on the bed as my thoughts went to Beau. How had I walked away? I hadn’t though; I’d raced away, too much of a coward to face everything head-on. Why hadn’t I let him talk me into staying in contact? What could it have actually hurt? Why had I been so sure we’d be better off this way when he looked at me like that?

I was lost in my memories, with tears fighting to come to the surface over the fact that I’d never see Beau again, when a knock on the door pulled me back to the present. I dropped the photos back onto my bed.

“Phoebe?” Mum pushed the door open.

Blinking back my tears, and swiping away the traces of the few that had fallen, I offered her a smile. “Hey, Mum.”

“Thank you for this morning. Dad had to duck out and I was trying to feed Nikki.”

“It’s no biggie. Although waking up to that was a bit of an adjustment after so much quiet.” I moved over so she could sit beside me.

She laughed. “I bet. Did you have a good time?”

“It was great, exactly what I needed to recharge my batteries.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, of course I missed you guys, but I found new parts of me.”

“That sounds interesting. Is that what Angel was hinting at yesterday?”

There was no point trying to deny it. “Yeah.”

“And also what’s causing the tears?”

I should have known better than to think I could hide my tears from Mum. Offering a coy smile, I nodded.

“Wanna tell me about it?”

Did I?

Mum and I had never kept secrets from each other. There had never been a need. A little part of me wanted to keep Beau to myself though. It wasn’t that I thought Mum would be unhappy I’d found someone who’d made me smile. In fact, I was sure she’d be beside herself.

It wasn’t even that I didn’t want to admit I’d given him my virginity. I didn’t even think Mum would care about that—so long as I’d done it safely. After all, she’d had me before her eighteenth birthday, so could hardly advocate abstinence.

No, it was shame that glued my lips together. How could I admit I’d found something that felt so perfect and had walked away? Would she think less of me if I told her the truth about how it ended?

My face fell and a sob slipped from me.

Mum’s arms were around me in a second. “Oh, Pheebs, darling, what is it?”

Her use of that name, the one I’d grown so accustomed to hearing in Beau’s southern twang, pushed me over the edge.

“I—I met someone, and—” I cut off as I tried to get my thoughts in line.

She held me, staying silent while waiting for me to find the right words. She’d been with Dad enough years to know that was what he needed the most, and I was so similar to him.

“He was wonderful, Mum.”

“Cute?” she teased, no doubt trying to make me comfortable so she could draw more out of me.

It worked and drew a smile from me. “So cute. Although, maybe that’s not entirely the right word. Sexy might be more appropriate.”

“Oh really?”

“He was very—” I cleared my throat “—
fit
.”

“Tell me all about him.”

I spent the next ten minutes giving Mum the PG, non-bike-riding version of the story of Beau and me—ignoring the part where I gave him a fake name.

“Sounds very romantic. So can we expect him to call for you soon?”

“No. I, uh, left him without giving him my phone number.”

“Why?”

“Because it was doomed from the start, wasn’t it?” My tears filled my eyes. “My schedule barely leaves time for socialising with people in my own time zone. And his is worse.”

“Is he at college?”

A mirthless chuckle slipped past my lips as I shook my head. “He races cars.”

Mum’s returning laughter was full of the amusement I couldn’t find. “Of course he does.” Her laughter grew.

“Stop it,” I said, fighting my own smile. “You’re not going to cheer me up. Not when it’s all over.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Even the hardest relationships can find a way.” She held me tighter and ran her hand over my hair. “If you want to get back in contact with this boy, you know I’ll support you and help where I can.”

I cleared my throat. “He, um, he wasn’t really a boy.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s, ah, twenty-four.”

“Oh. Twenty-four, huh, wow.” She was silent for a while. “Maybe leave that bit out when you’re telling Dad, hey?”

“Why? Luke’s ten years younger than Flynn and Dad doesn’t have an issue with that.”

“Flynn isn’t his daughter. Telling him you fell in love overseas is bad enough, don’t you think? You don’t want to give him more reasons to freak out.”

“Did I though?” I asked.

“Did you what, honey?”

“Fall in love. How do I know that’s what it was? I mean, I’m eighteen. Can I be in love at eighteen?”

“Your Dad and I were.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, and that worked out so well for you.”

“It did . . . at least, eventually. Besides, only you can know the answer to that question.”

“All I know is that my chest feels like it’s getting crushed every time I think about Beau, and there’s nothing I want more than to be back in his arms even though it’s impossible.”

“That might be your answer.”

I buried my head in my hands. “I don’t know how to feel something this big.”

“No one does. Why do you think your dad ran when we were in high school?”

“Do you wish he didn’t?”

She drew back a little to look at me. “Parts of me do. It was rough when he first left. And then to find out I was pregnant on top of that, I’m not going to lie, it was hard. Not the hardest thing I’ve had to face, of course, but hard enough at seventeen.

“Without that space, without the time apart, I don’t know what might have happened between us. When he came back, well, it was different. Like we knew we could face any challenge together because we’d experienced being apart and neither of us wanted that again. I think our love was deeper the second time around. More.”

“How can you feel
more
than this?”

She rested her cheek against my hair. “Maybe you won’t. Or maybe someone will come along that proves what you’re feeling now is only a fraction of true love.”

“This is already too much. I don’t want it.”

“I know, sweetie. I felt the same after your dad left.”

“Am I broken?”

“What do you mean, broken?”

“I walked away. It hurt, but I did it. And I did it without saying goodbye. Normal people don’t do that.”

She frowned at me, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether it was because she saw the truth in my words. Maybe she saw the parts of me that were sharp and cut everything—everyone—to pieces.

“I think—” She cut herself off and fell into a thoughtful silence. “You and your dad are very similar. I think you both feel things too keenly.”

“So, I am broken.”

“Not broken. Passionate. But it’s that passion that lends you both to a career on the track. You’re good at what you do because you care about what you do. It is easy for people to dismiss it as an impossible career, or a dream, but it brings meaning to your life. I think for you, love, family, friends, it’s all the same. It’s what draws people to you.”

“Until I push them away.” I grabbed the strip of photos and stared at his face.

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