Faster We Burn Page 20

  I lay my head on the pillow next to hers.

  “Are you going to be okay here?” It was a stupid question, but I had to ask it anyway.

  “No.” Her face collapsed and she started sobbing again. I grabbed one of the many tissue boxes Kayla and I had stashed all over the house.

  “Why did this happen? Why did this happen to us?” I handed her a tissue and put my arm around her.

  “I don’t know. I wish I had a book full of things that I am supposed to say and do, but there isn’t one. If we spend all our time wondering why, then we’ll waste our lives, and Dad wouldn’t want that.” I didn’t know who I was channeling, but it all sounded good, so I went with it. “Dad wouldn’t want you to be sad forever. He was always trying to make you laugh.” Even when it ended up just making her madder. Eventually they would stop fighting and she’d crack a smile.

  She blew her nose and threw the tissue on the floor. Dear God, she really was in a state.

  “You sure it’s okay for me to go back? I could stay with you and Kayla for the rest of the week.”

  She shook her head and wiped her eyes with her hands.

  “No, you have to get back to school. Just because I’ve fallen apart, doesn’t mean you have to.”

  “You haven’t fallen apart, Mom.”

  “Yeah, Katiebug, I have.”

  “Well, you had a good reason to,” I said, using another tissue to wipe her eyes. “You can fall apart all you want. I won’t tell.”

  “Thanks, baby.” She hadn’t called me that in ages.

  I gave her another hug and we lay there for a little longer. We hadn’t always gotten along, but that was going to have to change. She was the only parent I had left, and like it or not, she needed me and I needed her back.

  Trish had driven my car down for the funeral, so I was able to drive my own car back. I said goodbye to Kayla and promised to see her on Saturday and started the drive back to DU.

  I couldn’t find a good radio station, so I picked up my phone and put it on speaker, setting it in a little clip on my dashboard. I should have one of those headsets, but I thought they made people look like assholes, so I’d never gotten one.

  He picked up on the second ring.

  “Hey, I’m driving back and I just thought I would check in with my friend. How are you, friend?”

  He sounded like he was in a room full of people.

  “I’m good, friend. How are you?” The voices faded, as if he was walking away from them.

  “You’re not in class, are you?”

  “No, I was just getting something to eat.”

  “When’s your next class?”

  “Not for a while. I’m all yours, friend.”

  “Well that is good to hear, friend.”

  He went on to tell me about all the things that I’d missed on campus, from someone getting thrown out for setting a couch on fire, to the frat that was on probation, to the professor who’d gotten caught smoking pot on campus with a few students.

  It was all silly and mundane and distracting enough that I could get out of my own head for a few minutes. It was a blessed relief.

  He also filled me in on the crew. Lottie was dying to have me back and had stocked up on ice cream in preparation for lots of Law and Order marathons.

  Trish had almost gotten fired from her job for mouthing off to her boss, Will and Audrey had finally kissed in public and Simon was trying to convince everyone to participate in some sort of charity event that involved running around campus in your underwear.

  “I’m not freezing my junk off, even if it is for charity,” he said as I pictured his junk. It was pretty nice junk, and I wouldn’t like it if anything happened to it, even if I wasn’t going to be using it anytime soon.

  It was all well and good to call ourselves friends over the phone, but in person, I had no idea how it was going to go.

  “How’s your mom?”

  “I guess she’s as good as can be expected. She goes from sobbing to cleaning like the Queen is coming over, then back to sobbing. I’m going back this weekend so Kayla can have a break.”

  “Do you feel guilty?” Stryker always had a way of asking the questions I didn’t want to answer.

  “Yeah. How can I not?”

  I waited for him to tell me that I shouldn’t, but he sighed.

  “You’re right.”

  “Wait, what was that?”

  He laughed.

  “I said that you’re right. A little guilt is okay. It’s the big, soul-crushing guilt I’m worried about.”

  “Well, I’m doing okay so far.” If being okay meant having a baggie with my Dad’s ashes and not being able to believe he was really gone. I hadn’t told Stryker about the first thing.

  “Listen, I really want to thank you for everything you’ve done. I know I can never make it up to you, but I owe you at least a few more Thanksgiving dinners.” I’d hoped he would laugh, but he didn’t.

  “You don’t owe me anything, Katie. Anyone else would have done the same thing. It’s not like I rode in on a white horse.”

  “Horses scare me, and no, not everyone would have done the same thing and you know it. Give yourself some credit, Stryker Abraham Grant.”

  “God, I hate that you know my middle name. It’s been the bane of my existence for years.”

  “It’s a perfectly fine middle name. It’s a presidential name, and you’re trying to change the subject.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “Look, we don’t have to talk about it. I just want you to know.”

  He sighed again and I could picture him running his hand through his hair.

  “Got it.”

  We talked for a little while longer and I felt like I was taking up too much of his time, being too needy and clingy (again), so I told him I had to stop and get gas.

  “See you soon, friend.”

  “Drive safe, friend.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Stryker

  I half-expected Katie’s car to be parked at my apartment when I got back from class, but instead there was Ric, leaning against her car and playing with the holes in her jeans. I’d barely had any contact with her since our tryst, and I was hoping it would stay that way.

  “Hey,” she said, not moving from her car. “How are you?”

  I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her.

  “What do you want, Ric?”

  She looked like she was going to cry, and I felt one pang of sympathy. It wasn’t completely her fault that we’d had sex. I’d been a willing, if drunk, participant.

  “Sorry, I haven’t gotten a lot of sleep,” I said. She was shivering. No wonder, she didn’t have a coat on and her clothes were always full of holes. “Come on,” I said, motioning toward the door. Better to get this over with.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as we walked up the stairs. “I’ve just…I’ve liked you for a long time and you never seemed to be into me, so I made a move and now…I’m so sorry.”

  I let her in and went right to the kitchen to make her a cup of tea because it didn’t feel like the right kind of situation for coffee.

  “I’m sorry too. I was lashing out, or being stupid and you happened to be there. We’re both adults and we acted like hormonal teenagers.”

  She leaned on the counter and wiped her eyes.

  “So you’re not pissed at me?”

  Yes.

  “No. It wasn’t your fault. Although, the fact that I told you over and over that I wasn’t interested should have been a red flag.”

  “I know, I know,” she said accepting the mug of tea I held out to her.

  “No, you really don’t. I couldn’t have been any more clear, Ric. I didn’t want to be with you, so why did you keep it up?”

  She laughed a little.

  “Desperation? Hope? Thinking that one day you’d see that we were perfect for each other?”

  “But we’re not, Ric. We never would have been.”

  “But she is?” I didn�
��t need to ask who she was talking about. Her narrowed eyes and the increased bitterness in her voice did that for me.

  “This isn’t about her. I would feel this way whether she was around or not.”

  She made a little scoffing sound, and I realized I was never going to get through to her. It was bashing my head against a brick wall. She had issues that had nothing to do with me.

  “Look, I just wanted to clear the air because I didn’t want you to quit The Band and I’d like it if we could work things out to at least be civil.”

  She set her tea down, untouched.

  “I guess.” She pushed herself away from the counter. “Have you told her?”

  I hesitated before I said, “No.” I thought about trying to lie, but Ric was the kind of girl who would bring it up in front of Katie and then I’d be in an even worse place.

  “Hmm,” she said, a little smile flitting over her face.

  “Her father just died, Ric. I couldn’t tell her that right now.”

  “How convenient.”

  “It’s not like that. Shit, why do you have to make this so difficult?”

  “Difficult?” She let out a loud burst of laughter. “Give me a fucking break. You have no idea, Stryk. Your little pink girlfriend who’s had everything handed to her on a fucking platter. Yeah, well, the rest of us have had it a lot worse. It’s about time she got knocked down a peg.” The venom was directed toward Katie, but she should have been shooting it at me.

  I crossed the room until I was within a foot of her. “Listen, you don’t talk about her that way in my house. Ever. Get the fuck out. There’s the door.” I pointed to it and turned my back on her.

  “If that’s the way you want it, fine. Fuck you, Stryker.” I heard the door slam behind her. Good riddance.

  My phone buzzed a moment later.

  Good luck keeping your dirty little secret Stryk. I was going to keep it to myself, but I might just slip and tell someone…

  I didn’t respond, because that was what she wanted me to do. I was actually shocked that it hadn’t gotten out already. Trish knew and Zoey knew. I’d caught Trish’s eye a couple of times when she’d come down for the funeral and she’d almost brought it up on the phone, but we hadn’t had a moment to talk about it. Trish would never squeal on me because she knew it would hurt Katie.

  I would be damned if I was going to let Ric manipulate me. Even if she did tell Katie, I wasn’t sure if Katie would believe her. Ric didn’t have a good track record with her, and Katie would probably figure Ric was being a jealous bitch.

  I called Trish.

  “Hey, Ric just came by and threatened to tell Katie about us.”

  “Surprise, surprise. Hell hath no fury, brother.”

  “Yes, I am familiar with the quote, Trishella, I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to do about it. I have no idea how far she’ll take this.”

  “So what am I supposed to do about it?” she snapped.

  “I don’t know. Just…don’t say anything to Katie.”

  “Do you think I’m the kind of person who would tell her friend that her boyfriend slept with someone else right after her father died of a heart attack?”

  “I’m not her boyfriend.”

  “Whatever, dude. That’s just semantics. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t tell her. She’s got enough shit to deal with right now without worrying about you putting your penis in places it doesn’t belong.”

  “I’m going to tell her.”

  “Yeah, okay. Let me know how that works out for you. I gotta go, bro. Therapy time is over.” She hung up without saying anything else.

  Well, I had that base covered.

  A moment later, my phone rang again. Damn, I was popular today.

  “Hey, it’s Lottie.”

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “We’re sort of doing this welcome back kind of thing for Katie, and I thought you should be involved.”

  “What kind of thing are we talking about?”

  “Like a get-together-to-take-her-mind-off-of-it thing. We were also hoping, maybe, we could use your apartment? It’s bigger than the dorm. I figured you wouldn’t mind, but I thought I’d ask before we barged in.”

  “Yeah, that’s fine.” I’d have to clean first, that was for sure. I’d left things in disarray when I’d gone to Katie’s house and I hadn’t gotten them back together yet. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Nope. We’ve got it covered.” She gave me some more details and then hung up.

  God, I had dug myself a hole and it was like it kept getting deeper and deeper.

  Katie

  Campus was the same. Why I had expected it to be different, I had no idea, but it was like my world had changed so dramatically, I expected the rest to match. Like the sky should always be cloudy, the weather always cold and miserable, the world gray and lifeless. It would have been easier to accept the truth if it was like that.

  I got hug-tackled as soon as I walked into my room by Lottie, who had clearly been waiting for me. My side of the room was all made up and it smelled like she’d just sprayed it with something vanilla-scented.

  “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “You didn’t enjoy having the room all to yourself?” I said, giving her a wink. I would have taken advantage of it, if I were her.

  Her blue eyes went wide.

  “We didn’t—”

  “Of course you did. Hell, I would, if I were you.” Not that I was going to be having sex anytime soon, and it wasn’t just because of Dad. All the reasons I’d used for having sex before didn’t seem like good reasons anymore. They weren’t even reasons. I just decided I wanted to do it and grabbed whoever was available. It was a miracle I hadn’t ended up pregnant. Or worse.

  Dad would be so ashamed of me. Would have been so ashamed of me. Now he’d never know. Somehow, that made me even more determined not to do it. Ever again.

  “Maybe we did. A little.” Such a liar.

  “As long as it’s not in my bed, you can do whatever you want, girl.” I melted back into my pillows and it was such a relief having my pink things around me again. My safe little pink world.

  “How are you doing?” I’d gotten used to this question and all its variations. Pasting on a smile and saying I was doing fine was as easy as blinking now. It was complete bullshit, but no one ever seemed to care.

  “Fine.”

  Lottie grabbed a pint of ice cream from the freezer, as if she’d been waiting to do it since I walked in. She handed me a spoon and sat down next to me on my bed. I twisted the lid off and sunk my spoon in the cold, creamy goodness.

  “You’re getting good at that. Saying you’re fine when you’re not. You forget, I too am a Master of Fine.”

  I had forgotten.

  She took a deep breath. “After the accident, when Lexie was in the hospital, people would always ask me how she was doing. They didn’t want to know that she couldn’t remember who her parents were, or how old she was, or that she had to pee in a bed pan. So I got pretty damn good at saying she was doing fine. No one wanted to know those other things. They just want to be reassured. It’s like when you ask how someone is; you don’t really want to know, you just want them to say they’re fine and then you can move on. It’s a social courtesy. Like opening a door for someone or saying “bless you” when someone sneezes.”

  Sticking a giant spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, she shrugged.

  “So, how about you tell me how you’re actually doing and cut the crap?”

  “What do you want me to say? My dad is dead and I can’t accept it, and I’ve got a Ziploc bag with some of his ashes, which I stole, and sometimes I just wish I could fall asleep and not wake up. Is that what you wanted me to say?”

  I had to give her credit, she didn’t miss a beat.

  “You can say whatever you want as long as it’s the truth. You stole of some of his ashes?”

  “Yeah. I have no idea why. I thought maybe having them with me would help reali
ty sink in, but no luck. I still have this huge part of me that expects him to walk in the door, or call me up, or something. How crazy is that?”

  “Not crazy at all. You’re talking to a girl who couldn’t accept that her best friend was never coming back.”

  “How is Lexie?” I took another huge bite of the ice cream, enough to give me a brain freeze.

  “She’s settled, I guess, and her mom’s been calling me with updates. I want to go down and see her, but Zan says it isn’t a good idea. I know it isn’t, but I miss her.”

  Yet another reminder that Lottie was a much better person than I was.

  “I mean, at least she’s alive. Wow, that sounded way better in my head than it did out loud. I am so sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Our spoons collided and she moved hers so I could dip in again. “I just keep expecting myself to break, to have this great moment of realization, but I’m still waiting for it to hit me.”

  “Are you sure you want it to?”

  “No, I really don’t want it to, because then I’ll probably end up worse than Mom.”

  I gave Lottie a brief rundown of my Mom’s insanity.

  “Is she seeing someone? Like a counselor?”

  “I think Kayla is taking her to some sort of widow’s support group.”

  She paused for a second, digging in the ice cream for the best bite.

  “And you? Are you going to see someone?”

  The social worker at the hospital had sent us home with brochures and phone numbers of various places where we could get grief counseling. I could always go see Dr. Sandrich.

  There was one group especially for children who had lost one or both parents and Kayla wanted us to go together, but I was trying to talk her out of it. I couldn’t imagine talking to a roomful of strangers about my dad. And what would I say? That I couldn’t cry? I could just imagine their horrified faces.

  “Not right now. I just want to get back to things and go from there.”

  “It might help.”

  “Did it help you?”

  “Uh, no. Not really. But you shouldn’t use me as a measure of the effectiveness of therapy.” I didn’t want to talk about this anymore.