Rewind to You (16 page)

“
I want to pay you back
,” I had told him. One problem. I didn’t have a job. Besides teaching a few dance classes here and there, I never did. His gentle hand rested on my shoulder. To preserve the callous feelings I have for Austin’s friends right now, I try to not think of what Dad said next.

“
Just remember how it feels to get a second chance. You can repay me by forgiving someone else someday
.”

He’d actually said that! I grit my teeth, irritated at the stupid coincidence. Why couldn’t he have let his anger get the best of him? Why couldn’t he have yelled like Mom did? I can’t let go of it, this anger toward those biker punks, especially not now that I know who they are.

The look on their faces was unmistakable. They practically admitted their guilt with their speechlessness, their confession passing between our eyes. All three of us were there that night.

They deserve to pay for that accident, as I have. I think of what could have been: me and Dad watching fireworks with our family on the Fourth of July instead of fighting for air. If it weren’t for Austin’s friends, my dad would still be here. I can never forgive them for that. I can never forgive myself.

And, I mean, my dad forgiving me for losing some golf clubs was one thing. Reckless driving and death?

“You really think Dad would have forgiven them just like that? After what they did?” I ask. Suddenly I realize this is a roundabout way of asking the question I want answered above all.

Mom’s eyebrows climb a notch. “I’m not like your father, Sienna. Unfortunately. Yes, I believe he would have forgiven them and moved on. He would have told them to do the same, too. Honey, I’m only going to say this once because I already hate the taste of these words on my tongue: being angry about something never does any good.”

Yes, I just heard my mom say that. Those words must have been bitter to her tongue indeed. We really are more alike than I thought.

“I’m willing to bet those cyclists have guilt enough as punishment,” she continues. “I’m guessing they ran because they were frightened, a couple of average people who made a wrong turn in life. At least that’s what I prefer to think to make myself feel better.”

I meet my mom’s gaze with a new sense of appreciation. “Thanks for listening.”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” She stands and brushes the sand off her pants with a grimace. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She pauses dramatically to drum up suspense.

“What?”

“Guess who’s coming here next week?” she asks.

I turn, puzzled. “Grandma?”

“Well, no. Grandpa and Grandma won’t be coming down until late July.”

I think and think, still confused. Who else on earth would visit us
here
?

Excitement radiates from her face as she finally declares, “The Prices!”

Several seconds pass before I find my voice. “The Prices? As in Kyle Price?”

“Yes,” Mom says, nearly laughing, “as in, your boyfriend, Kyle Price. They’re paying us a visit for the Fourth of July holiday.”

The salty wind dries my tongue, my throat. I can’t speak. Even if I could talk, I’m not sure what I’d say. This is what I looked forward to every summer for the past three years. Kyle’s family always talked about coming out, but never have.

Why
now
?

“Here?” My voice echoes my shock. “Kyle’s coming
here
?”

“Why are you so surprised? They’ve talked about it for years, honey.”

“Yeah, I just never thought they’d actually do it.”

Incompatible feelings run through me, those for Kyle versus those for Austin. I fight these warring emotions, feeling even more confused.

My mom watches me. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Yeah,” I say and put on a smile. “Sure.”

She nods, satisfied. “I’m going to make a quick dash over to Judy’s. She said I could pick some squash and tomatoes from her garden. Will you watch Spencer?”

I nod, knowing a stop to see Brian’s mom, Judy, will be anything but quick. But it’s fine. I don’t want to go anywhere tonight. I can’t lie to myself; I suppose I am excited at the idea of Kyle coming, more than I thought I would be. Has the recent turn of events tainted my feelings for Austin?

“Thanks,” she says, her typically angular face appearing softer, kinder somehow.

I watch her walk away and then I turn back to the ocean. The waves have already brought Spencer’s football back to shore, and it turns my thoughts to Austin. To his friends. I’ve always believed in second chances—like when I gave Kyle a second chance. But this?

I swallow hard. Forgiving Austin’s friends means I’m the only one left, and forgiving myself is like trying to grasp air. I take a deep breath, knowing my mom is right. My dad would forgive Austin’s friends and never look back.

But that’s him, not me.

CHAPTER 24

Austin

I
remember it clearly now: July Fourth one year ago. I wanted to go out with my friends that night but my mom said no. She never said no, let alone listened to a word I said about where I was going. Yeah, I was ticked. I guess she had good reason, though. That was a week after the drugs were found in Jake’s car.

Landon, Evan, and I were all with Jake when cops pulled him over. The three of us claimed we didn’t know anything about the stash of Colombian heroin—enough to be hustling—in the trunk, and we got off easy. I was telling the truth. I convinced myself Evan and Landon were, too.

Mom freaked out, even though I told her time and time again that I had nothing to do with those drugs. Then, with a rude sting, I realized something that slashed the already thin thread holding our family of two together: My mom didn’t trust me.

She called Aunt Debbie and Uncle Mark the next morning and finalized moving arrangements by lunchtime. Never smoked, never shot up, hardly ever even drank. Football was too important. Wouldn’t let myself start on that junk. I guess it wasn’t as important to Jake though, and that’s a shame. He was a sick tight end. The guy could block anyone.

I’d never given my mom a reason to distrust me. Seriously, I couldn’t think of one. And she was sending me off just like that.

There had to be something more going on, I knew it. And then it all clicked. When she looked at me, she saw my dad. People always told me I was the spitting image of him. So the way she flipped out made me certain, once and for all, as to why my dad went to prison. Her fear ran deep, the consequence of past experience. She dreaded me turning into a crackhead like my dad, so she wanted to get me away from my friends.

Right when I was on a roll with football and everything, she ships me off. Not that she ever cared about football. Or anything I did for that matter. Seriously didn’t think she even cared about me until that moment. A phone call from Uncle Mark finally cooled me down, and I channeled all of my frustration into fueling a new goal: getting away. I couldn’t stand home anymore.

July Fourth was the last night I had to hang out with my buddies before leaving Virginia. But my mom watched me like a hawk. “Over my dead body,” she said, when I told her I was going out with Landon and Evan. She lay on the ground at the front door to block my way, imprisoning me within my own home. Kind of ironic for Independence Day.

She’s so tiny, I wanted to lift her up, slide her aside, and walk right out the door. But this was my mom here, the one who lives in her quiet little box. She’d never shown this kind of attitude. Although I didn’t let on my amusement then, I had a good laugh inside, and I agreed to the nightmare of a cookout with my stepdad instead of meeting up with friends.

I gave her a hand up from the floor and chopped peppers for the kebabs she’d seen on
Rachael Ray
, not thinking much of it. But now I see what my mom did for me. Landon and Evan came by, of course, like we’d planned.

“What are our
families
doing tonight?” Evan repeated after I asked him just that, nearly rolling his eyes.

“Yeah,” I said, “your families.”

Landon exhaled impatiently. “I don’t know. Fireworks. Pizza.”

“Well, do yourself a favor tonight and do pizza instead of weed.”

Right then I knew it. They weren’t clueless about those drugs in Jake’s car. Those were my last words before I shut the door, my last words to them before the accident that took Sienna’s dad’s life.

I turn at the green light and start down the main road. The wind is refreshing, but I doubt Landon or Evan, on their motorcycles behind me, feel any reassurance. I was the one who kept them in line. Dumped the rest of their beer in the sink while they weren’t watching, or simply tossed the whole can into the trash in front of them. Stuff like that.

If I had been with Landon and Evan that night, would the accident have happened? Maybe the three of us would have been out for ice cream instead—one of my regulars—and Sienna and her dad would have made it in time to watch fireworks with her family. And everything would be okay.

Or not.

What if I had been with them, a third motorcycle swerving into Sienna’s lane? With a tug of selfishness, I realize if anything had happened differently, there’s a good chance the past two and a half weeks wouldn’t have occurred as they have. Sienna would be nothing more than a beautiful girl I passed on River Street. She wouldn’t have needed me to catch her fall, because she wouldn’t have fainted. In fact, maybe she wouldn’t need me at all.

I pull up the gravel road and kill the engine, something heavy pressing on my chest from all angles. Hard to breathe. I glance over at Evan, finding his eyes already on mine. Behind me, Landon taps his finger on the handle bar as though the motion is either consoling or distracting. Maybe both.

“Ready?” I ask.

One of Evan’s eyebrows climbs to form a doubtful arch. Landon doesn’t reply.

Ready or not, I start toward Sienna’s beach house, feeling sick at the thought that maybe she would be better off had I never walked into her life. I’m kind of relieved when Spencer answers the door.

“Hey, Batman.”

Spencer throws open the door. “Austin! I’ll get my football.”

“Actually, I can’t stay long.”

The excitement drops from his face. “Oh. You wanna see Sienna?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay.”

“You’re lucky. My mom just left. She doesn’t like you much.”

My eyes sweep the entryway behind him. “How come?”

Spencer shrugs. “Well, she hates tattoos. And she really, really hates motorcycles. And anyway, she really likes Kyle Price.”

Just what I need to hear.

Landon shuffles his feet next to me, reminding me why we’re here.

“Do you know where Sienna is?”

Spencer points down the wraparound porch. “The beach.”

“Thanks, Spencer.”

“Hey, Austin?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we play football next time? You’re coming over again, right?”

“I hope so.”

We spot Sienna as soon as we round the corner of the house, sitting in the sand, her back toward us.

“Let’s make this quick,” Evan mumbles in a low voice.

I shoot a glare his way. Whether he said it purely because he’s a wimp or not, I don’t know, but he has a point. We’re probably the last people Sienna wants to see right now.

Sienna hears us and turns. She stands and crosses her arms, not wasting any time. “Were you drunk?”

Evan and Landon falter.

“My brother got pulled over a while back.” Landon’s voice cracks. Sienna glares. “Cops nailed him. And he had, like, maybe a drop of alcohol. That’s it. Got his license suspended, jail time, court fees he don’t got cash to pay. And he got a freaking misdemeanor. Not to mention, my dad was pissed.”

Sienna’s face is like a sheet of ice. I shouldn’t have hoped for more. “Why should I care?” she says.

“We had
one
drink,” Evan replies.

“One drink, huh? Well, obviously it was enough to kill my dad.”

Landon whacks Evan on the arm. “It wasn’t the beer.”

Sienna’s expression turns from ice to fire. “Then, please, tell me what it was. Because you swerved into our lane, and the next thing I knew, we were drowning!”

“Look, we didn’t know your car went over the edge until later.”

“And that made you feel better, how? It was still a hit-and-run.”

“We didn’t
hit
your car.”

“Because I swerved!” Sienna yells. “I could have hit you, but instead—”

“I swerved to dodge a piece of tire tread,” Landon cuts in, and little by little the tension dispels into silence.

Sienna keeps a tight jaw. “Tire tread?”

“Right there in our lane. Look, motorcycles aren’t like cars. Hit debris at that speed and you could be roadkill.”

Sienna pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’re telling me a piece of trash is responsible for that accident?”

They nod.

“Then why didn’t you tell the police that?”

“Because we’d just been drinking at a party,” Evan says. “We would have been screwed. Cops wouldn’t have bought it.”

“I swear,” Landon says, “we only had, like, one drink. If that.”

“Uh-huh.” Sienna makes a doubtful sound. “Everyone says that. Why should I believe you?”

“We left the party early, okay?” Landon mutters and looks at me. “We had one drink and split.”

Guilt latches on, cinching tighter and tighter around my neck. The thought that I had anything to do with why they left early, why they were on the highway at that exact second—

“Whole house was smashed, man—”

“And stoned,” Evan adds.

Landon sends a fleeting glance my way. “We decided not to mess with any of it. So we drove by the fireworks on our way to crash at my house and eat pizza. With my family.”

Thunder echoes in the distance, slowly dissipating. Storm clouds roll away, revealing a dark yet settled sky overhead. Landon and Evan actually took my advice. Who would’ve guessed? They probably made the best possible choice that night, yet someone died because of it.

Sienna rolls her eyes and wraps her arms around herself like she’s trying to keep herself together. The way her chin quivers and her eyes get all teary makes me step forward.