Second Chance (Cruiser & Lex, Book 2) (13 page)

Lex

Someone knocks on my bedroom door. I say, “Come in.”

A tall guy with broad shoulders steps inside. I jump out of my chair and throw myself into his arms. Cruiser buries his face in my neck. It feels so good to be in his arms again.

But his arms are not their usual strong selves. I step back and look at his face. It’s clouded with so many emotions. Relief, pain, worry. I bring my hand to his cheek. “Cruise,” I say softly.

He pulls me to his chest and tightens his arms around me. “Damn, I missed you.”

“Me, too.”

He puts his hands on my waist and lowers me to the bed, where he sits down near me. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Are you upset with me?”

“Of course not.”

He looks a little relieved, but there’s still unease behind his eyes. He slides his fingers through mine. “My dad’s moving out.”

I blink at him. “What?”

“He’s packing right now.”

I hug him. “I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t take it, T. Rex,” he mutters against my cheek. “So much going on. Too much stress.”

“I’m here, Cruise. I’m here.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No thanks, darlin’. I just want to hold you.”

And I let him. For five minutes, ten, I don’t really know. I keep my arms around him and comfort him as best as I can. He tries so hard to be tough, but he’s so sensitive inside. I wish I could chase away all the pain.

“Wish we could run away,” he says. “Somewhere we can be together and be happy. Not have to deal with any shit going on in our lives.”

I nod. “I wish that, too. But we have people in our lives who need us. Rosie needs me, and Rey needs you.”

“Rey,” he mumbles.

I pull back a bit so I can meet his eyes. “What about him?”

He shakes his head.

I press my hand to his cheek. “Talk to me.”

He shakes his head again. “I…I can’t.”

“Why?”

“He keeps screwing up. I feel like a parent, having to take care of him and get him out of sticky situations.” He shoves some hair out of his eyes. “Damn, I wish he’d pull his shit together.”

“Does that have anything to do with the fight at school?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Cruise—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. You punched a guy. Do you know how much that scared me?”

His eyes slowly trek to mine. He looks down. “I know.”

“What’s going on with Rey? Whatever it is, it’s having a big effect on you.”

He shuts his eyes, nodding.

I push some stray strands of hair off his forehead. “Tell me.”

His eyes crack open. “I can’t, T. Rex.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I need…I need to protect him.”

“Protect him from what?”

He’s quiet.

“From me?”

“No. I just need to protect him.”

I gently free myself from his hold and stand up. “I understand that, but you don’t need to protect him from me. I’m your girlfriend and he’s my friend.”

He won’t meet my gaze. “I don’t think he’d want you to know.”

Betrayal stabs me. “He wouldn’t want me to know?”

He stands up and holds out a hand. “Some things are a secret, Lex. And sometimes I need to keep those secrets hidden, even from you.” His voice cracks when he says the last bit.

Now tears of betrayal attack my eyes. “We said we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other.”

“I know. But some things—”

“I won’t tell anyone. You know you can trust me.”

“I know I can—”

I turn my back on him and cover my face. “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”

“You’re forcing me to choose between you and my twin brother.”

I spin around to face him. “I’m forcing you? All I want is for you to tell me what’s going on because you’re obviously very upset. And you punched a guy. You broke his nose. I…I need to know.”

He rakes his hands through his hair, pursing his lips.

I try to fight the tears, but they win and rush down my cheeks. I wipe them away. His entire face softens and he reaches for me, but I step back. “There will be a time when I’ll have to come before Rey. I understand that right now he needs you. But there will be a time when I’ll need you more.”

He moves closer to me, running his hands up my arms and pulling me to his chest. “T. Rex,” he whispers against my temple. “I don’t know what to do. I want to tell you what’s going on with him, but he told me in confidence. Please don’t be upset with me.”

I bury my face in his shoulder. “It feels like you’re hiding this huge secret from me. You ran off during the double date with Dani and Simon with no explanation. I told myself to let it go. But now you smashed a guy’s face. What’s going on?”

He plays with a strand of my hair. “Trust me.”

I step back. “You can’t just run off and punch people and tell me to ‘trust you.’”

“I’m not running off punching people. Geez, Lex, do you really think that?”

“No, of course I don’t. I’m sorry. I just don’t like all these secrets.”

“There are things between me and Rey that need to stay between us. Just like there are things that need to stay between you and me. Would you want me to tell Rey all of our secrets?”

“We don’t have any secrets.”

“Not secrets. Private things.”

“You know it’s not the same thing.”

“Of course it’s the same thing!”

I turn around and take in a few gulps of air. I didn’t realize I’m out of breath. Cruiser huffs behind me. When I face him, I say, “It feels like Rey and I are fighting over you.”

“It’s not like that.”

“I get that the two of you have a special bond. I know nothing can come between you. But I’m your girlfriend. I need to lean on you. I don’t have anyone else.”

“Rey doesn’t have anyone else, either. He’s going through a hard time and—”

“I’m going through a hard time too, Cruiser. I need you to be here for me. I need to know I can rely on you.”

Now he turns around and pushes his hand through his hair. “This is fucked up,” he mutters. “How did we even end up fighting like this?” He whips around. “I don’t want to fight, Lex. I don’t like fighting.”

“You think I do?” I brush away the tears that slip out of my eyes. “I just…I just want you to be honest and open with me.”

“I am.”

“But you’re not. You’ve been suspended for four days and have hardly said anything to me. You didn’t even try to sneak out to meet me.”

His mouth falls open. He blinks and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

“You didn’t know I wanted to speak to you? I want to speak to you every second. I thought you felt the same.”

“You know I feel the same.” He rubs his neck again. “Guess I had a lot on my mind.”

“You can’t take care of Rey for the rest of your life. You’re not responsible for him. He needs to learn to live without you constantly being there for him. Isn’t that why he came back? Because he missed you?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it.

“I care about Rey, Cruise. A lot. I don’t want to see him upset any more than you do. But I…I need you.”

He collapses on my bed and buries his face in his hands. I sit down next to him. After a few seconds, he lifts his head. “What do you want me to do? Toss him away like an old pair of socks?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Then what?” He gets up and starts pacing. “What am I supposed to do? He’s my brother. My twin brother. You can’t…you can’t make me choose.”

“I’m not. I would never, ever make you choose.”

“Seems like that’s what you’re doing now.”

His words cut through me like thousands of knives. I’m not trying to tear him away from Rey. I want him to continue being an awesome, caring brother to him. But he hasn’t been investing as much of himself into me. Not since our anniversary. Lately, all he seems to do is worry about Rey, and nearly all our conversations revolve around him. It’s like he’s slipping more and more as the days pass. It feels like when we were kids, when Rey and I fought for Cruiser’s attention. I don’t want to be in competition with his brother. I don’t want to be such a horrible person that I demand he pay attention to me and only me. But I’ve come to lean on Cruiser in so many ways. If he can’t give me what I need, does that mean I can’t be with him?

The thought sends a new wave of tears. I hug myself. “I need…I need to be alone.”

He walks over to me and takes me in his arms. “I’m so sorry, T. Rex. I don’t know what to say.”

“I need time to think things over. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

He nods before giving me a quick peck on the lips and leaving my room.

I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling. I feel so selfish. But am I wrong? As Cruiser’s girlfriend, I deserve for him to give himself completely to me. Rey depends on Cruiser. He expects him to always be there for him. And he should be. But Cruiser’s taking on all of Rey’s problems like they’re his own. If he keeps doing this for the rest of his life, where do I fit in?

Cruiser

My suspension is over and I’m a free man.

Yeah. Freed from one prison and thrown into another. I get dressed and reach for my phone to check my texts. Nothing from Lex. It feels…it makes me feel empty. We’d always send each other good morning texts. It made me look forward to waking up every day. As I scroll through my messages, I realize we haven’t exchanged good morning texts since my suspension.

Is Lex right? Am I pushing her away for my brother?

I start pacing as I dig into my mind for the events that happened these past few weeks. Before Rey’s return, Lex and I spent practically every second together. Since he came back, I made myself available to him. Looked out for his welfare and made sure he didn’t screw up his damn life. In doing so, I pushed Lex away.

But couples need time apart, too. Are things different because it’s Rey? We were best friends as kids, but I always pushed Lex before Rey. Guess I felt that he would always be there so it was okay to push him aside for Lex. But now it’s the opposite—Lex will always be there, but I can’t say the same about Rey. He was across the country for a month. I missed him so much I felt like my arm was severed.

I know I spent time with Lex, though. I worked hard on making our anniversary perfect. I hung out with her almost every day. Spoke on the phone with her as much as before. Did she forget that? Was it not enough? Lex is usually not a demanding person. She knows I need my space sometimes. Is she jealous of Rey? Does she think I used her to fill the void that was my brother? Because I didn’t. I couldn’t have.

I rub my temples. This is going to make my head explode.

I text Lex, telling her I’ll be downstairs in a bit. A few seconds later, she responds, telling me she caught a ride with Dani.

It feels like she rammed an iron fist into my stomach. Is she pissed at me? I mean, I know we had an argument last night and she was hurt, but I thought we’d talk things over today and work through this. I want to tell her that I’ll be there for her always, even when I’m looking out for Rey. I can do both—I don’t need to choose one over the other. She needs to understand that.

Maybe she’s not pissed but caught a ride with Dani because she gave her a ride this whole week when I was suspended. Yeah, that makes sense. Maybe she was used to it and forgot that I always take her. But wouldn’t she want to talk things over with me as soon as possible?

I drag myself to the kitchen and down a glass of orange juice. The house is different. Mom doesn’t talk much. Rey tried to demand an explanation from her, but she wouldn’t talk about it. She’s depressed. Walks around with her shoulders drooped and hardly cooks. We ordered out nearly every night this past week. Without Dad here, it’s like I’m living in some foreign place.

When I leave the house, my eyes search for Lex. Like I hope she’s pulling a prank on me and is really out here, ready to jump into my arms so we could make up and forget the fight even happened. But she’s not here. The place feels empty, too. Deserted. Like she deserted my heart.

I grab my bike and head to school

Being away for a whole week, one might think the place would look different. Should look different. But it’s the same. Same brick walls. Same brown doors. Same kids walking around like zombies.

After parking my bike, I make my way inside. Same boring lockers. Same boring faculty members running around and yelling at kids to keep their hands off one another or whatever.

I study the area, looking for Lex. She’s not here. Probably at dance practice. I’m about to go there so I can see her, apologize and tell her how much I love her. But I keep my legs in place. What if she doesn’t want me to apologize? What if she doesn’t want to look at me? What if she finally realizes I’m nothing more than a piece of crap and she can do much better?

Tears get into my eyes. I rub them away and head to my locker.

I get what I need and close it. My phone beeps. I scan the screen. Shit, another text from Erica Sandford.
Don’t ignore me, Cruiser. Come over tonight. You won’t regret it ;)

What the hell? I text her back.
Sorry, no. Please stop texting me.

I delete it and turn around, walking right into Ms. Carter.

Damn.

She smiles brightly. “Hello, Cruiser. Welcome back. I understand we have a meeting?”

I hold back from gritting my teeth. Part of the “terms” of my return to school was that I’d have to speak to the guidance counselor to help me sort out my “issues.” I guess it was wishful thinking, hoping she’d forget.

Carter holds out her arm toward her office. It’s like she’s leading me to the guillotine. I’m tempted to fall onto my knees, clasp my hands together, and beg for her to reconsider and let me be a free man.

Her office looks the same, too. I plop down in the same red chair and dump my bag near my feet. Carter lowers her coffee cup to the desk and sits down. But not before she grabs my file from the drawer.

She opens it up like she needs to relearn everything about me. I tap my fingers on the chair’s armrest. I suppose I should look on the bright side. I don’t have to sit through a boring English Lit lecture. But, damn, I’ll have more work to catch up on.

She locks her fingers together and lays them over my opened file. Smiles to me. “So, Cruiser. How are we doing on this fine morning?”

She wants to know how I’m doing? I feel like shit. My girlfriend, the girl I love so much I don’t know what to do with myself, might break up with me. Rip my heart to bits. And this woman is making me sit here.

I force a wide smile. “We are doing amazing. It’s great to be back. I can’t believe how much I missed this place.”

That gets a small smile out of her. “So what did you promise me at the end of our last meeting?”

I shrug. “Didn’t promise you anything.”

“Sure you did. You promised you’d tell me how you acquired that awesome nickname.”

I should probably tell her I never actually promised her that. But in teacher language, a suggestion is more like an order. I shrug. “Nothing to tell.”

“Oh, please. With a cool name like that there needs to be a story.”

She won’t let it go, will she? Not that I’m embarrassed about how I got the name. Not that it’s something special and meaningful. I mean, yeah, it is. But not something I set aside for special people. Shrugging again, I say, “My grandparents got me a model of a Navy cruiser ship when I was ten. I thought it was cool.”

Her eyebrow rises. “Wow. I did not expect that.” She picks up a pen and starts scribbling something down in my file.

I lean forward to peek at it, but the woman’s a pro at the art of concealing. “Don’t like it?” I ask.

She holds her pen up. “I actually like it very much.” There she goes with more scribbles. I bet she’s writing how my choosing my own nickname at the age of ten—and naming myself after a ship—must have led to some emotional scarring that put me on a dark, dark path.

She sticks her pen in her hair and focuses her attention to me. “So how was your suspension from school?”

“Fine.”

“Do anything fun?”

“Yeah. Lots and lots of homework.” And argued with my girlfriend.

She smiles. “Glad to hear that.” She looks down at my file. “I see here you’re averaging mostly Cs and Ds in your classes. Except for your last history test. You got a B+ on that.”

“Must be a mistake,” I mutter. “A B in my file.”

“Cruiser, it’s great you’re working hard on your grades. Some of your teachers have told me you are making a lot of progress. Handing in assignments on time, participating more.”

I shift in my seat. I don’t really appreciate all the teachers discussing me with her. Guess that’s inevitable, though.

“There’s nothing wrong with succeeding in school,” she says.

“Did I say there was?”

She holds out her hands. “Okay, okay.” She looks back at my file. “So I see here your twin brother, Reagan, was accepted into a music academy but decided to return back to South Beach High.”

Geez, does she have everything in there? She probably knows what time I take a shower every night. “Yeah, so?”

“How was it when he was away? I understand you two are close.”

Seriously? This woman is peeling off all my layers. “Was fine. We know how to live apart.”

She holds out her hands again. “Hey, no one said you didn’t. There’s no need to snap at me. This is safe grounds here. Everything we talk about in here stays in here. Okay?”

Sure.

“I mean that.”

I shrug. “Whatever.”

Her eyes go back to my file. “So you have an interest in the Navy?”

I fall back in my seat. “It says that in there?” Unbelievable.

She chuckles. “No, it doesn’t say that here. But naming yourself after a Navy ship means something. I’m only making an educated guess based on the facts I’ve gathered.”

I don’t say anything.

“I see it’s a sensitive topic.”

“It’s not,” I mumble.

“Oh?”

My leg twitches. “Let’s just talk about the fight already. That’s what you really want to discuss, don’t you?”

She plucks her pen out of her hair and touches it to her lips. “Since you brought it up, sure.” She leans back in her leather chair and holds out her hands. “The floor is yours.”

Great, I just shot myself in the leg. But this would come up eventually. The sooner we get it out of the way, the sooner I can get my ass out of here for good.

I shrug for the hundredth time. “Guy talked crap about my girl.”

She nods slowly. “So when people talk bad about the people we care about, it’s okay to punch them.”

“I’m a teenage guy.”

“A teenage guy with possible anger problems?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so, either. Why the punch? I don’t take you as a violent guy.”

I don’t say anything.

She bends closer to me. “The fight? It’s in the past. You paid your dues.”

“Thank you.” Finally, she said something useful.

“But my job is to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Do you get into fights often?”

“No.”

More scribbling in my file. I swear, I’m going to break into the school one night and see what crap she’s writing in there.

“How are things at home?”

I don’t swallow. Don’t shift or twitch. “Things are good.” Yeah, Dad moved out, Mom’s a crying mess. Things are awesome.

She closes her file. “Thanks for coming to see me. We’ll meet tomorrow, same time.”

Yeah, like I have a choice.

Before I walk out, Carter says, “Cruiser?”

I turn around.

“You’re a smart guy. And a good guy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“Please close the door on your way out.”

I do. See, that’s why guidance counselors or therapists or whatevers are lame. They give you weird messages like that and you break your head trying to figure them out.

I dump my English Lit textbook in my locker and grab my math book.