Rewind to You (21 page)

“Kyle,” I snap.

“Remember our junior prom?”

“Kyle—” I say again, sensing his determination can only mean one thing: The way I feel for Austin is painted all over my face. Kyle knows more than I ever dreamed of telling him.

“You wore that pink dress to the dance, the one that made your hair look like gold and your eyes look like . . . like . . . I don’t know, but they were
awesome
.”

I glance away to the wooden balcony, to the moth dancing beneath the porch light, to anything but Kyle. The emotions these memories bring back are reluctantly endearing. I remember Kyle onstage as he was crowned prom king. I watched from below, of course, the girl who was lucky enough to be with Kyle Price. He was popular, athletic, and the secret crush of a number of girls from our school. Kyle comes from a great family, too, and has always had his life mapped out ahead of him, a sure track to the top.

“Remember the time we Rollerbladed around the park? We sat down and when we opened our sodas they exploded all over us? Or the time I gave you this ring?”

Kyle’s fingers touch mine, slowly pulling my hand up to eye level. The little diamond flickers in the dim porch light. A persuasive half-grin pulls at his lips. Lips I know well.

“I have something for you,” he says, and I let Kyle lead me to the porch swing. He hands me a present wrapped far too perfectly for Kyle to have done it himself. I hold it, losing my grip on the fraying thread of belief that Austin is the person I think he is.

Good luck finding a night when I’m not around.
That’s what Austin said. He knew I had a boyfriend. He baited me and reeled me in. Lied to me, even, by omission. I was so charmed, I let it all happen. He left me blinded to the possibility that I’m only one of many who have been wooed by his good looks, blinded to the possibility that he could be just another player. And perhaps someday he’ll walk away for good with no promise of
until next time
.

Still, as I unravel the ribbon and peel back the wrapping, I battle with conflicting images in my mind: the reflection of the Austin I’ve come to know and the picture Kyle has painted. I try to make sense of it, to blend them into one whole, but it’s like trying to mix water and oil.

“I thought you’d like this,” Kyle says.

A lump lodges in my throat as I stare down at the framed picture in my hands. The photo is old, one taken before digital cameras. It’s a memory I don’t have, my dad sitting in the dirt holding the hands of a toddler with blond curls. It’s our garden, and I can’t be more than two years old in this picture.

“Oh, Kyle, how did you—”

“Your mom helped me find it.” His arm slips around me. I smile, so mesmerized by the photo, I don’t realize how much I’ve relaxed until I’m completely leaning against Kyle’s chest. “I know how hard this year has been for you. I feel like I’ve come to know your dad even better since he passed away, you’ve told me so much about him.”

I throw him a wary glance, never expecting how much this simple confirmation would mean to me. Kyle was listening all along. And this whole time I thought he didn’t care. The fact that I discounted his concern leaves me with an awful sense of guilt.

I have no idea who leans in first or who initiates the kiss, but our lips touch in a way that is so familiar I can’t draw back. I’m not even sure I want to.

Our lips meet again and again. He pulls me closer, and I wait to feel something I might never feel in Kyle’s arms.

“Wanna head to the beach?” he asks, his breath hot on my neck. “Away from the parentals?”

“Kyle,” his dad calls from the patio door with uncanny timing. Ted Price calls out again, says it’s time for them to head back to the hotel, and I feel something like relief. My emotions are so whacked though, I have no clear idea what I’m feeling.

Kyle kisses me one last time, his mouth demanding, reluctant to go. And when I finally draw back, I have no idea how I should feel about anything.

I just feel empty.

CHAPTER 31

Austin

I
pace the sand. I wander through the pavilion, practically feeling the seconds tick by.

I’m at the pier. See u soon?

I glance at the text I sent to Sienna, my desperate act of idiocy after another sleepless night. She didn’t even reply. I’m pathetic. It was a craptastic evening after I left the Aqua Star. That should go without saying. While Sienna did who knows what?
Don’t go there.
I can’t let my thoughts slither that way again. Thus, the sleepless night. I don’t bother questioning what has gotten into me. One word: love. And one thing I’ve learned this summer is that love can get you to do some stupid things.

Several minutes stretch out. A few people walk along the beach, watching the sunrise over the ocean. More time passes and the realization seeps in. Sienna isn’t coming. She’s Kyle’s girlfriend, not mine. Perhaps nothing these past few weeks was real.

“Austin!”

I turn and see her. “I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“You love to be mysterious, don’t you?”

She smiles, but it doesn’t last long. “I mean, I really am sorry, Austin.”

Dread settles in. It’s over. Sienna and I are done. Kyle is everything I’m not. There he sat in all his brand-name glory next to two successful parents. Seeing him last night reminded me of all the ways in which I’m not good enough for Sienna. I have a shoddy past at best, and a slim shot at any kind of a future. Kyle has the world at his fingertips.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she says. “I’m sorry all of this is even happening. It’s not fair to you. You must hate me.” She looks up as if asking forgiveness.

What, does she expect me to throw this all behind me and sweep her into my arms? Just like that?

Her big brown eyes look into mine, her pleading gaze eating at my resistance. “I’m so sorry, Austin,” she says, almost breathless.

Being this close to her after so long is making me sort of breathless, too. Cursing my weak resolve, I pull her into my arms. “I could never hate you.”

I convince myself it won’t last, Sienna and Kyle. By the end of the weekend it will be over between them.

She sighs. “Austin, last night I—”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“But—”

“I trust you,” I say, cutting her short. I’m not sure I’m ready to hear the rest of the sentence. Besides, I do trust her more than I’ve trusted anyone. Only an idiot would fully trust the friends I’ve hung with, I never trusted my mom’s lies, and my dad crushed any confidence I had in him the day he disappeared.

“Do you work today?” she asks.

I shake my head.

“No?” The way her face lights up makes me feel like the richest guy on earth. I’m toast. Cupid sank his arrow deep when I fell for this girl.

“My mom’s in town so I took the day off,” I explain.

“That’s right! Your uncle told me she was coming. I want to meet her!”

“What, now?”

“Yeah.”

“What about Kyle?” I ask, a hard shove of jealousy pushing the question out of me.

“He’s golfing thirty-six holes with his dad today. He won’t be back until late this afternoon.”

I nod. All right, her explanation wasn’t what I’d hoped. But what can I expect? It’s not like she called him during the night and broke it off.

Instinct tells me I should demand an answer about her and Kyle. But something changed last night. Thoughts of calling Sienna in the morning and breaking up with her ruined any shot I had of sleeping. It would be easier that way, I kept telling myself. But somewhere during the night, the Austin who used to break relationships off without a second thought changed. At least I’m different when it comes to this one girl, and it sort of scares me. I fear that no matter what Sienna does, I’ll love her forever.

“We’re having a cookout at noon. Wanna come?”

“Is that okay?” she asks.

“Of course.”

“Great.” Sienna takes my hand and starts for my motorcycle. “I have some questions I need to ask you.”

CHAPTER 32

Sienna

A
ustin steals a look at me from the kitchen counter. He finishes garnishing some scalloped potatoes, listening patiently as his mom reminds him of the correct way to peel and mince a garlic clove. A shy smile and a weak handshake was all Austin’s mom offered me, and her husband is no different. Austin’s stepdad sits on a lawn chair in a corner of the backyard, watching Turbo run in circles.

“Hey.” Austin takes a seat next to me on the patio and then lowers his voice to a whisper. “Sorry this is kind of boring.”

I glance at Debbie and Mark, who are arguing over the best heat setting on the grill, a comical pair as always. “It’s not boring at all.”

He laughs.

I look at Austin, his tall, strong build and ocean blue eyes, deciding he must have taken after his dad. His mom and stepdad are midgets compared to him. I also can’t picture his mom befriending everyone in a city she’s lived in for only one year like Austin has. “You’re going to miss your mom this fall.”

One side of his lips curves up. “Actually, I’m pretty excited to be on my own.”

“You’ll miss her more than you think,” I say.

“What makes you say that?”

I gesture to his mom, who is shuffling around the kitchen. “Just watching you two and the way you talk to your mom about cooking.”

Austin smiles. I recall the detailed instructions she gave him on slicing potatoes, the way she showed me how to roll a lemon on the counter before squeezing it to make lemonade. “You listened to her like you were hanging on her every word.”

He makes a guilty face. “I’m glad my act was convincing. She is a great mom. She did her best anyway.”

I watch him, willing him to go on.

“She took it pretty hard, you know, when my dad left.” Austin keeps his voice level, his expression void of emotion. “Although, to tell you the truth, I think she was kind of relieved.”

I try to keep my mouth shut, to let him do the talking. Here it is.
At last.
His dad left, but where did he go? Could Kyle possibly be right? When I get the sense that Austin’s about to change the subject, I press him for more. “Was it rough on you?”

Austin makes a motion, barely a nod. He glances at Turbo, who’s panting beneath the shade of an oak tree. “My dad gave Turbo to me on my ninth birthday.”

I watch Turbo scratching his yellow fur, his tongue hanging out. No wonder Austin loves that dog so much.

“That’s, like, the only thing I remember about him,” he says. “I’m pretty sure my mom is glad I don’t remember anything else. She hasn’t talked about him since.”

“Never?”

Austin shakes his head. “She didn’t want me to know.” He glances over, noticing my expectant stare. “My dad went to prison for drug abuse, Sienna.”

It’s true. Confirmed. Kyle was right. But it’s not like I can judge Austin by what his dad did, right? His dad didn’t go to jail for abuse or murder; it’s not like Austin inherited some vicious gene, making him a violent person like Kyle accused him of being. I mean, drugs are everywhere. Kyle always laughed at how naive I am. The word
drugs
was blacked out in my mental dictionary, something I pledged to
just say no
to when the D.A.R.E. officer came to my elementary school class.

But this reminds me: I have questions. Jake Braham was Austin’s friend, the guy who went to juvie. Now I’m finding out that Austin’s dad went to prison because of drugs, too.

“Believe it or not,” Austin says, “my mom never told me outright, but you live in a place long enough and people around you talk.”

“You figured it out on your own, that your dad was in prison?”

“Yep. I told Mom after school one day. I told her that I knew where Dad was.”

“What did she say?” I ask.

“Nothing,” Austin replies. “Just nodded once and then finished making dinner. That was it. We never talked about it again. I’m pretty sure she still secretly hopes I don’t know about my dad’s drug problems. Now you see why I’m here, in Savannah.”

“Not really.”

Mark walks up then, and we both fall silent. “Soda?” he says, and tosses Austin a can. “One for you, Sienna?”

“No, thank you.”

Austin nods in thanks as Mark heads inside.

“A week before I came here,” Austin continues, “one of my friends got caught with drugs.”

I’m relieved I didn’t have to bring it up. “I still don’t see what that has to do with why you came to Savannah.”

“I was in the car with him when he got caught.”

At last, it all clicks. “Your mom was scared for you,” I say, and Austin confirms it with a sideways glance. “She sent you here to get you away from your friends?”

Turbo hobbles up the stairs and nestles into Austin’s leg, looking hot and tired. I watch Austin’s mom cross the backyard to sit with her husband, the mom who shares very little in common with her son. For the first time I see Turbo for what he is, the dog who saved a little boy in more ways than one.

“Have you ever?” I leave the question at that, feeling my voice tangle inside my throat. Just how much of his dad does Austin have in him?

Austin searches my eyes. “Have I ever used drugs?”

I nod.

He leans in with a curious and even amused grin as he lifts a brow. “What do you think?”

Crap. Why couldn’t he have answered yes or no? I recall my first impression of Austin when we met on River Street. He was decent, sweet, and seemingly too good to be true. Yet there was always something else about him, a flash of danger in his eyes, a competitive instinct.

And now? Now I know him. I know the Austin behind the tattoo and the rough edges, and I see exactly what I saw when I first laid eyes on him.

“I’d guess you haven’t,” I say.

A smile tugs one corner of Austin’s lips. I wait for him to confirm my assumption.

“I used to wait for him,” he says instead, and I gather we’re talking about his dad again. “I used to look up at the bleachers during every game, waiting for the day I’d see him there.” Austin opens his soda, takes a sip, and shrugs. “Who knows where he is now. Out of prison and probably back on dope. I don’t care if he ever comes back.”