“No. I’m not, I just… I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I’m on the road now,” I add, “I’ll be home tonight.”
“And then we’ll go get falling down drunk.” Lacey declares. “And eat our weight in ice-cream. No, scratch that, this calls for the serious shit. Gelato!”
“Sounds good to me.” I manage a faint laugh. Then I catch sight of a petite figure ahead of me on the highway, heading towards me, in the direction of Cedar Cove. The girl is huddling and braced against the winds, wearing a thin hoodie pulled up over her head, and a short skirt with high-heeled boots, like she wasn’t planning to be out walking. As I drive past, I catch a glimpse of her face: it’s Emerson’s sister, Brit.
“Fuck,” I swear, speeding past her.
“What is it?” Lacey demands, still on the other end of the line.
“Nothing, it’s raining pretty hard. I’ll call you back later, OK?”
“OK, Love you.”
I hang up, and then carefully pull a wide U-turn on the wet highway. I drive back the way I’ve just come, slowing and rolling my window down as I approach her.
“Hey, are you OK?” I call. “You need a ride?”
Brit turns, her kohl-rimmed eyes smudged and glaring. “Nope!” She yells back, and keeps walking.
I cruise along beside her at a snail’s pace. “Come on, you’ll catch your death out here,” I argue. “Can’t you see, a storm’s about to hit?”
“Don’t care!” Brit calls back.
This is ridiculous.
“You seriously hate me so much you’re willing to get pneumonia, just to prove a point?” I demand. “Because that’s some screwed-up logic you’ve got there.”
“I don’t need your help.” Brit spits back.
“Uh, look around,” I point out. “There’s nobody else for miles, so I’m what you’ve got.” I sigh. I want to turn around, and head out of this godforsaken town as fast as the Camaro will take me, but she looks so small and pale out here on the empty highway, I can’t bear to leave her. “Come on, Brit. You can glare at me in here, you know.”
A fresh gust of wind blows in from the ocean, and Brit shudders. Her pale skin looks scarily white, and she’s clearly freezing to death out there. “That’s it,” I decide, putting on the brakes so the car comes to a stop. “Enough messing around. Just get in the goddamn car!”
Finally Brit gives in. She reaches for the passenger door and yanks it open, sliding into the car and slamming it shut behind her.
Up close, I can see she’s shivering so hard her whole body shakes.
“Jesus, are you crazy?” I put the heater on full, and reach around to the backseat to find a thick college sweater. I pass it to her, worried. “What were you doing out there?”
“Having a spa day, what do you think?” Brit gives me a look as she tugs the sweater over her head.
So that’s how it’s going to be.
I sigh, and put the car back in drive—this time, heading back across the bridge into town. The clouds get darker, and the spatters of rain turn into a thundering downpour against the windscreen. The streets are all empty now, some of the windows on the stores barricaded shut with wooden planks.
“See?” I tell her, squinting to see through the wall of water. “You would have been stuck out in the middle of this.”
“Gee, thanks.” Brit drawls, still bitterly sarcastic. “Next time my jerk-off ex-boyfriend decides to throw me out, I’ll have him do it in tanning weather.”
I look over. “Are you OK?” I ask, concerned. “Did he hurt you?”
“Hurt…?” Brit snorts. “I’d like to see him try.”
“OK…” I shoot her another curious look, but despite the pale skin and last night’s makeup smudged around her eyes, she looks fine.
“Anyway, why should you care?” Brit snaps at me. “It’s not like you’re sticking around. That’s what you’re doing, right? Bailing out of town. Again.”
The twist of vulnerability in her voice sends a stab of regret right through me. So that’s why she’s so mad at me! Four years ago, I was so caught up in my heartbreak over Mom and Emerson, I didn’t stop to think how I was running out on Brit without even a word. We’d hung out a bunch that summer, and although she acted like me and Emerson were an embarrassing drag, I know she looked up to me, like a sister. The way I left wasn’t fair on her.
“I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye,” I tell her quietly, coming to a stop outside the bar.
“Whatever.” Brit shrugs again.
“No, I mean it,” I say, sincere. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Brit gapes at me. “Are you f**king kidding me? My brother!” She stares at me like I’m the devil and a total moron all rolled into one. “You broke his f**king heart, and I was the one left trying to clean up the mess.”
She grabs her bag, and climbs out of the car, slamming the door behind her. I’m left, dumbstruck in the driver’s seat.
Wait, what?
I scramble to turn off the engine and get out, flinching as the cold rain hits my skin. “Wait!” I hurry after her. “You’ve got it all wrong. That’s not how it happened!”
o;No. I’m not, I just… I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I’m on the road now,” I add, “I’ll be home tonight.”
“And then we’ll go get falling down drunk.” Lacey declares. “And eat our weight in ice-cream. No, scratch that, this calls for the serious shit. Gelato!”
“Sounds good to me.” I manage a faint laugh. Then I catch sight of a petite figure ahead of me on the highway, heading towards me, in the direction of Cedar Cove. The girl is huddling and braced against the winds, wearing a thin hoodie pulled up over her head, and a short skirt with high-heeled boots, like she wasn’t planning to be out walking. As I drive past, I catch a glimpse of her face: it’s Emerson’s sister, Brit.
“Fuck,” I swear, speeding past her.
“What is it?” Lacey demands, still on the other end of the line.
“Nothing, it’s raining pretty hard. I’ll call you back later, OK?”
“OK, Love you.”
I hang up, and then carefully pull a wide U-turn on the wet highway. I drive back the way I’ve just come, slowing and rolling my window down as I approach her.
“Hey, are you OK?” I call. “You need a ride?”
Brit turns, her kohl-rimmed eyes smudged and glaring. “Nope!” She yells back, and keeps walking.
I cruise along beside her at a snail’s pace. “Come on, you’ll catch your death out here,” I argue. “Can’t you see, a storm’s about to hit?”
“Don’t care!” Brit calls back.
This is ridiculous.
“You seriously hate me so much you’re willing to get pneumonia, just to prove a point?” I demand. “Because that’s some screwed-up logic you’ve got there.”
“I don’t need your help.” Brit spits back.
“Uh, look around,” I point out. “There’s nobody else for miles, so I’m what you’ve got.” I sigh. I want to turn around, and head out of this godforsaken town as fast as the Camaro will take me, but she looks so small and pale out here on the empty highway, I can’t bear to leave her. “Come on, Brit. You can glare at me in here, you know.”
A fresh gust of wind blows in from the ocean, and Brit shudders. Her pale skin looks scarily white, and she’s clearly freezing to death out there. “That’s it,” I decide, putting on the brakes so the car comes to a stop. “Enough messing around. Just get in the goddamn car!”
Finally Brit gives in. She reaches for the passenger door and yanks it open, sliding into the car and slamming it shut behind her.
Up close, I can see she’s shivering so hard her whole body shakes.
“Jesus, are you crazy?” I put the heater on full, and reach around to the backseat to find a thick college sweater. I pass it to her, worried. “What were you doing out there?”
“Having a spa day, what do you think?” Brit gives me a look as she tugs the sweater over her head.
So that’s how it’s going to be.
I sigh, and put the car back in drive—this time, heading back across the bridge into town. The clouds get darker, and the spatters of rain turn into a thundering downpour against the windscreen. The streets are all empty now, some of the windows on the stores barricaded shut with wooden planks.
“See?” I tell her, squinting to see through the wall of water. “You would have been stuck out in the middle of this.”
“Gee, thanks.” Brit drawls, still bitterly sarcastic. “Next time my jerk-off ex-boyfriend decides to throw me out, I’ll have him do it in tanning weather.”
I look over. “Are you OK?” I ask, concerned. “Did he hurt you?”
“Hurt…?” Brit snorts. “I’d like to see him try.”
“OK…” I shoot her another curious look, but despite the pale skin and last night’s makeup smudged around her eyes, she looks fine.
“Anyway, why should you care?” Brit snaps at me. “It’s not like you’re sticking around. That’s what you’re doing, right? Bailing out of town. Again.”
The twist of vulnerability in her voice sends a stab of regret right through me. So that’s why she’s so mad at me! Four years ago, I was so caught up in my heartbreak over Mom and Emerson, I didn’t stop to think how I was running out on Brit without even a word. We’d hung out a bunch that summer, and although she acted like me and Emerson were an embarrassing drag, I know she looked up to me, like a sister. The way I left wasn’t fair on her.
“I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye,” I tell her quietly, coming to a stop outside the bar.
“Whatever.” Brit shrugs again.
“No, I mean it,” I say, sincere. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Brit gapes at me. “Are you f**king kidding me? My brother!” She stares at me like I’m the devil and a total moron all rolled into one. “You broke his f**king heart, and I was the one left trying to clean up the mess.”
She grabs her bag, and climbs out of the car, slamming the door behind her. I’m left, dumbstruck in the driver’s seat.
Wait, what?
I scramble to turn off the engine and get out, flinching as the cold rain hits my skin. “Wait!” I hurry after her. “You’ve got it all wrong. That’s not how it happened!”