As You Turn Away (The Walker Boys) (26 page)

“I know.” Quinn breathed steadily, trying to find some measure of calm. “I told you I’m not okay yet.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that—”

“But I didn’t tell you how totally not okay I am.” Quinn gritted her teeth. “There are days I can’t get out of bed. Days Jonah just holds me and does everything right and it isn’t enough.” She sighed. “And then there are days I feel great, but I know it’s fragile, like the weak point in a frozen lake. Like one wrong step will send me plummeting down, and I’ll have to depend on someone to save me, and I don’t
want
that. I don’t want to be afraid of being held, or committing to a relationship. I don’t want my past to haunt me.”

She knew she wasn’t fully exploring all her fears, but this was the most she’d opened up to anyone in ages. Quinn pulled away from Lanie, and twisted the sheets in her hands, hoping this beginning was enough for now. She wasn’t sure she had the strength for more.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Lanie squeezed her hand once, twice, and a final time. “It’s not something you have to figure out right now, and it’s not something anyone can expect you to just get over in a heartbeat.” She smiled. “But it is something you can work on over time, with help. You’ll get stronger, and you’ll get better.” She kissed Quinn’s cheek and stood. “Let’s get some sleep for tonight, but just remember: leaning on someone else isn’t wrong as long as you can still stand on your own.”

After Lanie left, Quinn laid down again, pulling the blanket around her. She turned her tear-stained pillow over to the other side, and closed her eyes, hoping she’d left the nightmares behind. Even as she drifted off to sleep, she knew the hope was in vain, because if they were back, it meant she wouldn’t be able to outrun them for long. Lanie was right, as usual. She had to deal with her past eventually, before it bled into and ruined her present.

~~~~~

Quinn took her order and pocketed her change, then stood back while Lanie did the same. After they both had their food and drinks, they left the food truck and wandered. They didn’t talk as they ate, and Quinn savored the taste of the pork tacos. Food in the city was different from food in the South at times, and she’d found favorites in both worlds. And truthfully, she needed something familiar like this after her meeting with Jonathan.

Her former boss was as blunt as she remembered. After informing her that between the time she’d missed from her injury, and how far behind she was, taking her therapy into account, she wouldn’t be considered for any roles until she was fully healed. He also told her they had decided not to renew her contract for another year. Quinn had expected the news, but it didn’t make it any easier to absorb.

“Jonathan’s an ass.” Lanie threw away her cup and food wrapper, and Quinn did the same. “I can’t believe how he’s treating you.”

“I can.” Quinn shrugged. “He has a company to run. He doesn’t know if I’ll come back at full strength. Even I don’t know yet if I will. I hope so, but I know I’m nowhere near ready to dance again—physically or emotionally.” She swept her hair up into a ponytail as she walked over to a nearby bench and sat down. Tying her hair back, she attempted to smile at her best friend. “It’s okay, Lanie.” She shook her head. “I’d already been concerned about being in such a competitive environment again. Maybe it’s what was supposed to happen.”

“What do you mean?” Lanie sat with her and gave Quinn her full attention, patiently waiting for her to find words to express herself. Lanie was good at letting people work through things on their own by supporting them.

The chorus of the city—the sounds of traffic and conversations—hummed around Quinn, a consistent background noise she knew well. She let her gaze pan from where they sat, to the street, taking in buildings she’d seen so often she had them memorized. She knew this city—the frantic pace, the food, the people, the attitudes. The wild cabbies, the constant honking horns and subways. She’d once craved the busyness, needed it in her blood. She’d gotten used to living in the apartment with Lanie, dancing, giving her all to the stage and the audience.

Life in the city was easy, before the accident; from the day she arrived, lost but hopeful, she’d known it was where she belonged.

But somewhere in the last few months, her gravity shifted—to nighttime baseball games in the park, lazy Sunday mornings with Jonah, pillow and tickle fights with Jamie, a milkshake at
Louisa’s
. Soft kisses that led to longer, deeper ones. Days at the beach, letting the sunshine heat her skin. Watching the Walker boys wrestle, or watching Jonah strum his guitar. It had taken being back in the city to realize she didn’t belong here anymore. Not in the way she had, when she’d arrived here in pieces, and the city had sewn her together. She’d needed that life then but now all she needed to be whole was the simple things waiting for her.

“I think…” Quinn took a deep breath and held it for a moment; when she let it out, she let New York go. “Even though I still love it here, I don’t think it’s home anymore.”

Lanie nodded. “I knew that.” She shook her head, smiling a little. “Georgia looks good on you, Quinn. So does love.” She tilted her head to the side, studying Quinn. “I know you aren’t ready to put a name on what you and Jonah are yet, but I think you’ll get there. And you can’t do that here.”

“I’m scared.” The whisper sounded strangled, and Quinn immediately wanted to retract her words. “I’m not sure I deserve Jonah. And I’m leaving everything I love. Dancing, the city, you.”

Pinning her with nothing more than a raised eyebrow, Lanie stared. Quinn’s words sounded like excuses, and they both knew it. “Bullshit. You can dance anywhere. And that town has plenty to offer, from what I’ve seen.”

“What about
you
?” Quinn twisted her hands together in her lap. “You’re here. I’d be there.”

Lanie smirked, shaking her head. “Quinn, planes fly from New York to Georgia every day. Besides, at least now I’d have a reason to visit again.”

Quinn felt like she was tripping over all the words she wanted to say. She expected her best friend to be anything but excited. Hurt, maybe. Supportive, hopefully. “What about Darren? I mean, aren’t y’all together? You’d get to see him too, if you visited.”

Lanie chuckled, and ran a hand through her curls. “That’s one thing you and Darren have in common,” she commented. “You’re both free spirits. He’s just a bit wilder than you are. He isn’t mine any more than I’m his, Q. But yeah, while I’m there visiting you, if he’s around…” She wiggled her eyebrows, and then jumped up. “Come on. Let’s go get frozen yogurt.”

Nodding, Quinn followed Lanie. She knew this decision changed everything. Leaving the company and moving back home for good meant she could pause and breathe. It meant she could open up to Jonah as Lanie suggested. It meant Quinn had more time to work on her relationship with her father, aunt, and with Dare.

And it meant she needed a plan for the rest of her life. She felt like Jonathan’s choice had taken a weight off her, but created something new in its place: uncertainty. Since she was a kid, Quinn knew she wanted to dance. Now she wasn’t sure she still wanted to dance professionally.

They walked the few blocks to their favorite place, and Quinn ordered, and tried to focus on just this moment. The day was warm enough that by the time she had her cup of frozen yogurt in her hands, Quinn was glad for it. The cool treat was the perfect idea, even though she rolled her eyes at Lanie for suggesting it. She’d be stuffed until tomorrow, but that didn’t stop her from almost moaning in delight at her first bite.

“This was a
terrible
idea.” She giggled with Lanie, then opened her purse and reached for her phone. Just as she started composing a text to Jonah, her cell rang with a call from him; the picture of them she’d set as his image made tiny butterflies wing their way around inside her. Quinn answered the phone with a laugh. “I was just thinking about you!”

“Oh my God.” Jonah’s voice tumbled at her from the phone. “Quinn. I couldn’t find you and I was so worried. I didn’t know where you were, and I went everywhere, and—”

The frozen yogurt cup was suddenly too cold. He didn’t sound right at all. “Jonah?” She stood and walked to the door of the shop, then out into the sunshine. “What’s wrong? What did you think? Is everything okay?”

“I needed to find you. To tell you…”

Quinn felt like her world was tilting on its axis; she knew that tone. She’d heard it from him only once before—when he was comforting a horse he knew he had to put down. Her stomach churned. “Tell me what?” He didn’t answer right away, but she could hear the soft sound of his breathing—such a gentle noise, compared to the wooden sound of his voice. “Tell me what, Jonah?”

“It’s Hannah.” His voice shattered when he said her name, and Quinn heard the sorrow he was trying to hold back. It careened into her, tearing her apart.

“What about her?” She knew, but she also understood she needed to hear him say the words that would make the tragedy a reality. And at the same time, she wanted to do anything to stop him from telling her the news that would break so many hearts. The news that would change lives forever.

“She’s dead.”

“I’m leaving after graduation.” She said the words quickly, as if that might make them hurt less. “I’m going to New York to dance.”

Jonah’s reaction happened fast, like blood welling from a cut. And it kept happening. His expression changed over and over—first confusion, then disbelief, then anger, and finally, hurt. She could have withstood anything but the hurt. His handsome features closed over, and she saw it—the moment when his beautiful, expressive eyes shut her out for the first time ever.

“New York?” He grimaced as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth. “
Why
? I thought you’d go to school close by or something so we could be together.” His voice was even, but she could hear the fissures, weakening his foundation.

“No. I can’t stay here. I can’t
breathe
here.”

“But
I’m
here—”

“That’s something else I want to talk to you about.” Quinn pressed her hands to his chest and pushed. Jonah let her go, looking stunned, and she took a step away from him. “I’m not saying we should break up, I’m just saying we don’t know what the future is going to hold for either of us.”

“You’re looking for a way out,” Jonah whispered. The lights of the sign over
Louisa’s
flashed, and he looked washed out in them. “If you aren’t serious about us, Quinn, just tell me.”

“I was!” She cringed, and moved toward him, but this time it was Jonah who put space between them. “I mean I am, but—”

“What was I, a distraction?” Jonah raked a hand through his hair. “I was planning on us spending our lives together, and you were, what? Planning on running off the first chance you got?” He snarled at her; she’d never seen his temper directed at her before. “Why are you even still
here
?”

Quinn opened her mouth, but nothing came out, save for a whimper. She’d felt this building for weeks, in the silences between them, and in the lines between the words they said. In the strain her family put on them, preventing her from seeing him. In his rage, causing him to destroy things. In the fresh marks on his face from fights at school, and in the strained atmosphere at his house.

“GO!” Jonah roared.

It was too much—his anger and scorn on top of the pressure from her mom, the veiled threats about how hard Moira could make life for Quinn, and her dad ignoring her. It was too much, and she was so tired, and she couldn’t do it anymore. Jonah had never had to deal with anything but support from his family. He didn’t know what it was like to live in fear—for his sanity to hinge on getting out of here.

It was too much, and in that moment, something in Quinn snapped.

“Fine, I will!” She screamed.

His silence told her she’d severed something between them.

Reece’s apartment door was ajar; Jonah stepped into the foyer and the smell of something old assaulted him before he’d gone more than a few feet. He breathed shallowly and walked past the kitchen, though he couldn’t help but notice the sink piled high with dishes. Food boxes were scattered on the counter. The living room was a mess: blankets strewn about, toys dotting the floor. The television was on, but muted. Reece’s bedroom door was closed, and Jonah hesitated before knocking.

He wasn’t sure what state Reece was in and he didn’t want to startle his brother if Reece was as bad off as Jonah suspected. Jonah came over as soon as he’d gotten to their parents’ house and realized Reece wasn’t there. A sleepy Jamie, red-eyed and worn-out from crying stared hollowly at him from Ethan’s lap, and Jonah had known it was his responsibility to bring Reece to his son.