Take Me On

  “If I had told you or Ethan or Mom or Dad about the trouble I was in...if Gavin never gambled...if Colleen had never had cancer...it doesn’t matter anymore. None of it does. Will you please let this go, because I can’t carry any more burdens.”

  “I want you to be happy.”

  “I know. I want the same for you... I’m going to walk again.”

  I try to pull my hand back, but she keeps it.

  “I mean it. I’m going to walk again and I want you there when I do.”

  “Okay,” I say if only to appease her. One of us deserves a happy ending.

  “Promise you’ll be there,” she says.

  “I promise.”

  She squeezes my hand again, and, after I return the gesture, we both let go.

  We’re silent and I’m grateful just to have the opportunity to sit with her again. Too many horrible conversations will be had tomorrow. I’m fine with silence tonight.

  “The what-ifs,” Rachel starts.

  I know the what-ifs—I’ve asked them my entire life. “Yeah.”

  “If Colleen had never gotten cancer, me, you and Ethan would never be alive.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s an awful thought to have. To know you’re alive because someone else died.”

  “It is.” And I say what I think every day and what she needs to hear. “But I’m still happy to be here.”

  Rachel glances down at me. “Me, too.”

  I nod and mischief twinkles in her blue eyes. “So, why do you have my clothes? And FYI, you’d look better in the V-neck.”

  God, I’ve missed my sister. “Haley needed something to change into this weekend.”

  “Abby’s told me about her. So it’s true? My notorious girl-using brother has been tamed? Wait, don’t answer yet.” Rachel slides her finger frantically over her phone and pushes an app that records. “Okay—answer.”

  “Yeah.” Her enthusiasm’s contagious, and I smile in spite of myself. “You would have liked her.”

  “Liked?” Rachel closes the app and her smile falters. “As in past tense liked?”

  I don’t want it to be liked. I want Haley and me to be forever. “Dad will give her a scholarship if I leave her.”

  “No, West...”

  I throw her a sharp look. “Don’t lecture me unless you’re going to say you wouldn’t do everything in your power to grant Isaiah his dreams. Dad will give Haley what I can’t. What the world won’t give.”

  Rachel settles back into bed and stares at her immobile legs. “I ran away from you guys and ended up in a car accident that’s left me like this. Going to the dragway that night saved Isaiah’s life. If given the choice, I would do it all over again.”

  “See.”

  “No, not see. It’s not the same because Isaiah wants me and I want him. Doesn’t Haley get a vote?”

  “Haley’s a little too self-sacrificing to think it through.” I want to keep Haley, but letting her go means she’ll have a future. I stand and head to the door though the pain emanating from my chest comes close to doubling me over.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” Rachel says.

  “Nah, not stupid.” Just heartbreaking.

  Haley

  At school, I stand under the overhang and watch the parking lot. My fingers flip through the pages of my book like shuffling cards in a deck. The motion and the crinkling sound of the pages soothe me. I couldn’t sleep last night as I contemplated the same question over and over again. Does West know?

  Adrenaline kicks into my bloodstream when West’s SUV pulls into the lot. He’s early, which is good but also weird. A fine mist hangs in the air and the droplets sparkle on his car as he parks under a streetlight. I can’t see his face past the dark windows. I can’t see inside.

  I close my eyes and inhale, trying to calm the terror in my veins. What if that’s all West has been? Pretty on the outside, but hiding on the inside. No. I swallow and open my eyes. West loves me. This is going to be okay.

  West steps out of his SUV and my entire body rocks back. Nausea climbs up my throat and I turn my head, expecting the dry heave. Please let this be a mistake.

  He’s sickeningly gorgeous as he walks toward me. A black tie hangs from his neck and it stands out against the crisp white button-down shirt. His black dress pants fit him like they were tailor-made and his golden hair is gelled into style. He’s poised and perfect and beautiful, but he’s not my West.

  I honest to God pinch myself to check if I’m dreaming. What is in front of me has to be a figment of my fears—a nightmare. The prick of pain on my arm does not compare to the slicing at my heart.

  West shoves his hands in his pockets when he stops a foot away from me.

  We stare at each other—me like I’ve never seen him before. “Why are you dressed like that?”

  “I’m going back to Worthington. In fact, I’m going back to everything.”

  Everything? “What does that mean?”

  West surveys the school building, the cars, the other students who turn their heads like owls in order to observe our showdown. “I don’t belong here. I never have. It’s time I stop acting like somebody I’m not and return to my world.”

  A fresh surge of anger rushes through me; I’m pissed off at myself for loving him. “Spit it out.”

  “Look, the suspension made me rethink everything. When I got home last night, I expected my dad to throw me out again and he didn’t. We talked and he got me back into Worthington and he convinced me that even though I returned, I hadn’t really been home. He’s right. I need to be home. It’s time for me to be a Young again. Haley, I loved you. I did, but we’ve run our course.”

  “We’ve run our course?” I snap my mouth shut. A million thoughts collide in my mind... A thousand emotions. The urge is to ask him why, to convince him to stay, to ask if he ever really did love me, but the words that slip out are the ones that cause so much ripping pain that I actually sway as I say them. “I was just another girl.”

  “No. Never.” He steps toward me and my arm flies out as a warning. West rocks on his feet and I lift my chin.

  “Are you tapping out on me?”

  It’s possible that pain softens his blue eyes, but I don’t think it is. It has to be pity. He used me and now he’s pitying me.

  “Are you tapping out on me?” My muscles tighten with every word. I welcome the anger. I crave the anger because anger is a hell of a lot better than hurt. “Are you walking away from me and the fight?”

  He nods and glances away. My eyes burn with tears. I’m stupid. So, so stupid. “Did you know who I was? Did you know your father is the reason why we lost everything?”

  West barely looks me in the eye and the answer is so quiet I almost miss it. “Yes.”

  I roll with the impact of his words as if it were a physical punch, but, like I’ve been taught, I rebound and step into his space. Tilting my head, I give him no room to focus on anything but me. “I wouldn’t have cared if you told me, but this...”

  I flip his tie before I press both of my hands against his chest and push. West staggers back and it’s not because of my strength, but it’s because he gives. “This I can’t forgive. Guess I wasn’t worth fighting for.”

  Not allowing him a chance to reply, I pivot and disappear into a swarm of students unloading off the buses. My lower lip trembles and I fight the tears. I walk fast into the school and as the first hot tear cascades down my face I race into the nearest bathroom.

  Girls chatter and talk and I ignore them as I duck into the last stall. With the door slammed shut behind me, I slide down the wall and feel as if the ground beneath me is collapsing into a black hole. I suck in air, but none goes into my lungs and then I hold my breath to halt the sob, but it comes regardless—racking my body as if I’m
having convulsions.

  I’ve lost it all... My home, my family, my hope, West. There’s no place left to go. No more backup plans... There’s no more fight.

  West

  I changed into jeans and a T-shirt before driving to the bar. The private-school dress code would get my ass handed to me by a mob of angry laid-off union workers. Though getting the shit kicked out of me by a mob doesn’t sound like a bad idea. It could possibly hurt less than the memory of breaking not only my heart, but the heart of the only girl I’ve ever loved: Haley.

  A few guys play poker at a table in the corner. It’s sad I’ve grown fond of the sour stench of spilled beer. Like always, Denny hovers over a laptop near the end of the bar. “You’re late.”

  Worthington starts an hour later than public schools. I glance around. It kills me how much pride I’ve got in the dump. The tables and chairs I fixed, the mounting of the speakers, the woodwork along the bar. I finally found something I’m talented at and it all goes down the drain.

  I suck in air to keep my fists from closing. I’m not reacting anymore. I’m thinking and I’m giving Haley what she needs. “Thanks for the opportunity, but I’m quitting.”

  My boss’s muscles ripple as he straightens. Denny’s the most peculiar person I’ve met: a big-ass man who feeds a stray drug dealer and gives a job to a throwaway. “You crawled back to Daddy after all. I thought you had grown a fucking pair of balls.”

  I never told him I was the rich boy. “You’re talking about stuff you don’t know about.”

  He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m talking about shit I’ve known about since your momma was in damned diapers. Sit you sorry ass down and wait.”

  It’s like I’ve been absorbed in a tunnel when Denny shuts his laptop and heads into the back. All the sights and sounds and smells of the bar fade away as I sink onto a stool. Thoughts race in my mind... The months of wondering why my mother comes here... Was she having an affair... Abby telling me she came to see her brother...and as Denny slips out of the back with an overstuffed scrapbook in his hand, the horror of the truth makes me dizzy.

  “You can still walk away.” Abby slinks up next to me. Doing something she’s never done before, she touches my arm. Nudges it and tilts her head to the exit at the same time. “It’s okay to not want to know some truths. Pretending is much easier. Trust me on this.”

  I’m slow meeting her eyes. “Did you lie to me about why she came here?”

  “I lie.” The confession with no apology. “It’s what I do to survive and every now and then I do it to help others survive. I need all the good karma I can get.”

  The door to the entrance is propped open by a wedge of wood. I could leave and return to my old life like Dad suggested. So many routes to take: head to the party tonight at Mike’s, fill out the new paperwork for the University of Louisville or stay. Leaving could be blissful—to remain ignorant of things that I have no doubt will change me.

  Denny drops the scrapbook onto the bar and the sound awakens the drunks and me. Like it’s a spell book that contains magic that can alter history, my hand hovers over the cover, fingertips barely brushing the edge.

  “There’s no going back after this,” says Abby. “No take backs.”

  There was no going back the moment I met Haley. Regardless of what’s in this book, I’m changed for good. I open it and close my eyes. It’s me— It’s a fucking picture of me. My body convulses like I’ve been shot multiple times.

  I reopen my eyes at the sound of pouring liquid. Denny fills two shot glasses with straight Maker’s. He inches one to me and toasts me with the other. “To family and whatever the fuck that means.”

  He swigs the shot. I stare at mine, half thinking the burn of bourbon will erase the information, but I made my bed... I chuckle... No, Mom made her bed and now I’m lying in it.

  “Dad said they didn’t meet in college.” But even when he said that, I assumed Dad was the one who messed up, not Mom.

  “Tell you that, did he?” Denny laughs like one of us told a joke. “That man’s a real piece of work.”

  “Mom said she made mistakes.” Especially when she grieves over Colleen. Mom would sit in a ball on the floor of Colleen’s room and wonder if her death was the punishment for Mom’s past unknown crimes. I imagined the worst thing she did was speed on the freeway.

  Denny pours himself another drink. “She made a mistake by screwing a Young and accepting his marriage proposal over mine. Colleen wasn’t a mistake, even if she was biologically a Young. You weren’t a mistake, either. You were a glimpse of what Miriam and I should have had to begin with.”

  The world loses focus and I rip out the picture of me as an infant in this very fucking bar. “I was conceived to save Colleen, so this is bullshit.”

  “That idea only occurred to your mom after the stick turned blue. Half genes had to count, right? Your mom was born and bred in this neighborhood. She always thought fast on her feet in order to survive. Except when that Young decided to flip off his parents by slumming it on our side of town. She couldn’t see straight when he showed.”

  “They met at a bar?”

  “This bar. My dad owned it then.” His eyes flicker to Abby, who’s stayed unusually silent. “Dad also had a habit of taking care of those who needed it.”

  “How long has the affair been going on between you and Mom?”

  He smirks. “The one your mom had when she cheated on me with your father and got pregnant with Colleen, or the one night your mother and I spent together when she found out Colleen’s cancer progressed to stage four and your father took a business phone call after getting the news?”

  Mom’s from this neighborhood.

  Mom’s from this neighborhood and her boyfriend used to be the guy in front of me. Dad said that he went wild when he was younger. I guess this is where he ended up. In this bar, hitting on my mother and they created Colleen. Then they got married and lied to us.

  They lied.

  They lied because everything with the Youngs is about image.

  When life became complicated, after my parents had built a marriage with three children, they buckled under the weight of a sick child and my mother came here...to Denny... She returned to what she knew and she made me.

  “Sounds like he’s not my father.”

  “He gave you what I couldn’t.” Denny stretches his arms wide. “You’re looking at my palace. Screams day care, doesn’t it?”

  I shove the picture into my back pocket. “Don’t fuck with me. I know she comes here on the third Friday of every month.”

  Abby reaches over and flips the album to the middle and there are more pictures of me. “She comes to bring him pictures. It’s what he asked for when he gave up rights.”

  “Why not mail them?” I push. “She visits because you two are still involved.”

  Denny shakes his head. “If I had to give you up, your mother had to show here once a month and face the decisions she made. She has to look me in the eye, knowing what she’s denying me. Me and Miriam, it didn’t continue. Even after that night we spent together, she still belonged to your dad. That was never a question.”

  What was he forcing her to face? That I wasn’t in his life or that she wasn’t? But the question stays internal.

  “Here’s the truth.” He shuts the album. “Your mom and dad made mistakes and so have I. We were young and didn’t know who the fuck we were. I’ve seen you change over the last two months. You can go back to that huge house and play marionette for the Youngs just like your mom and dad did or you can break the chains and make your own decisions.”

  I jump off the stool, then kick it out of the way as I step into his space. The stool snaps and rattles against the ground. “You don’t know what I’m up against.”

  “If it’s the Youngs, it contains control and m
oney. Just a tidbit of fatherly advice—once you start down that path, it’s like entering a savage garden. It’s beautiful until the vines tear you apart. Your mom used to be a different person. She used to be full of life.”

  I loathe the pity flowing out of Abby’s eyes and I suddenly understand why she hates it. “Why the hell am I listening to you? You gave me up.”

  “Funny,” says Denny, “how you still ended up here. The kid who walked in here two months ago thought being a man meant calling out every asshole on the block. Tell me, are you the same stupid kid or have you figured out what being a man truly means?”

  Haley

  The skies finally opened up and erupted in rain. My hair sticks to my face and my shirt clings to my body as I enter my uncle’s. I shiver against the combination of the warmth of the house and the cold drops of rain that slither down my arms. My toes go behind my heel to kick off my shoe, but I stop when Mom walks into the living room with a phone pressed to her ear. Her face is white and her fingers shake.

  “If you hear from him, you’ll let me know?” she asks. Everything is wrong. The house sits silent. My uncle doesn’t rule the world from his chair. My younger cousins aren’t shoving each other against a wall. Maggie isn’t drawing on the floor.

  “Okay, thanks.” She clicks off the phone and she looks at me. “I thought you were heading to the gym after school.”

  I fight the automatic tears with the mention of anything associated with West. “I changed my mind. Where’s Paul?”

  “Your aunt persuaded him to leave with her to help me out. I need time.”

  The way her hands shake sets me on edge. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s your father. He’s missing.”

  West

  It’s close to midnight and I slam the back door to the kitchen. My mother spins. Her cell phone is tight to her ear and her eyes are wide and puffy. “He’s here.”

  Mom pushes a button and lowers the phone. I’ve spent hours driving, thinking about my mother: her asking me continually to use a napkin at the dinner table, the glares when I’d wear a hat backward at a charity event, teaching which fork to use at a dinner party, the countless tux ties she’d undone and done again. “You lied.”