As You Turn Away (The Walker Boys) (8 page)

Her sigh sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room. “You can stay, Jonah.” She paused, knowing her cousin wouldn’t like what else she had to say. “Darren, give us some time alone, please.”

“But Quinn—”

“Dare.” She grabbed his hand. “Trust me, okay?” Squeezing his fingers, she smiled at him. “This has been a long time coming, and you can stand in the hallway if you need to, but we deserve some privacy.”

Darren scowled, but nodded. She knew he had faith in her, and it was Jonah he took an issue with, for their ending. It didn’t matter that Darren knew the whole story—all the ugly things she’d said, and done, and how she hadn’t ever tried to reach out to Jonah to apologize. Darren would always place the blame with Jonah, simple as that. Once Darren made up his mind about someone, changing it was like moving a mountain.

“Alright. I’ll come back in awhile to check on you, Quinnie.” He bent down and brushed a kiss across her cheek.

“Thank you,” Quinn whispered. Darren nodded, and straightened.

As he crossed the room, he bumped into Jonah, who to his credit didn’t say a word, even when the door closed behind Darren. She wondered if he was as out of his depth as she was hers. Now that they were alone, Quinn had no idea where to start. It hurt to look at him, so she focused on her hands, linking them together to steady herself. When that didn’t work, she closed her eyes so she didn’t have to feel the weight of his gaze.

“How are you…from the accident?”

When she opened her eyes, Jonah was halfway into the chair furthest from her bed. He froze for a moment, and then sat on the edge of the seat. She wasn’t used to seeing him skittish like this, and it only served to further unnerve her.

“I have a broken leg, cuts, and bruises. My spleen ruptured, and I had surgery for that.” Quinn bowed her head, and her hair tumbled around her face. “The break was bad enough that I’ll need some rehab. But…” She exhaled in a sharp gust. “It could have been a lot worse. And I know that isn’t an answer, but I don’t know how I am yet otherwise.”

The silence between them wasn’t as awkward or as pressing as when Darren was in the room, but Quinn still didn’t feel right letting it linger too long. If she filled it with words that had nothing to do with
them
, maybe they would both survive this encounter, and…what? Go on and live separate lives, like they spent years practicing up until now? What else was there? What else could possibly come from this moment but fresh wounds that, with luck and time, would scar over like the others had?

“I would have come to your mom’s funeral. But I didn’t know. I just got into town the day of the accident, and I didn’t know until I saw the paper today. Ma didn’t tell me, Quinn—” His voice broke her name into pieces, cracking around it, and she shuddered.

“It’s okay. I would never have expected you to be there.” Swallowing around what felt like a knot, Quinn finally raised her head. “I didn’t expect your mom to be, either, but it was nice of her to come.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t
tell
me.” A pause and Quinn braced herself for what she knew came next. “I’m sorry about your mom. I know it sounds like bullshit, and everyone says it, but it’s true.”

She finally glanced at him. Even though Moira hated him for what he represented, and for what he could never be, Jonah sounded genuine. And that, more than anything, punched a pinprick in the walls Quinn struggled to hold intact around herself. That he could be genuinely sorry for her mother’s death after all she had done to him, that he even
cared
at all was more than she deserved. More than she’d expected.

“That means a lot to me.” Forcing herself to hold his gaze, Quinn nodded. “Thank you.”

Jonah leaned back, clasping his hands on his knees. It was such a familiar pose that she blinked, suddenly unsure of not just where she was but
when
she was. She couldn’t have counted the number of nights she’d spent in her studio dancing, while Jonah sat just like that, watching her. No one had ever studied her so intently, yet so reverently. And God, she’d felt so
alive
under his encouragement—as if for once, it didn’t matter if she wasn’t perfect, because in his eyes, her best was finally more than enough.

“I read your dad’s in a coma. Will he wake up soon?”

Tears pricked at her eyes. “I hope so. They said it’s up to him now. I’m supposed to go see him tomorrow…”

Trailing off, Quinn blinked. She was doing it. Losing her focus, and letting down her barricades. She was doing exactly what she’d been afraid would happen if she let Jonah stay. And what had it taken? Five, ten minutes around him, and she was crumbling…forgetting the anguish, the nights she didn’t remember, but that Lanie said she’d woken crying. She was forgetting
everything
. And that was dangerous. Hadn’t she learned that already, seen firsthand what happened when she let herself believe in
them
, in a happy ending? Had she forgotten so soon that, as her mom spent years drilling into her, she didn’t
deserve
happiness?

“That’s great news then.”

“I don’t know why I’m telling you
any
of this.” She brushed at her eyes, even though she knew it was a fruitless gesture. “I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea, or why you’re even here.”

“I wanted to check on you, and make sure you were okay. The newspaper article didn’t say if you were alright.” Jonah’s voice sounded strangled now, the smoothness shaved away to reveal the gravel and ashes beneath it.

The raw emotion was powerful and Quinn recoiled, wondering for a moment if she’d read him all wrong. She dismissed the misgiving, knowing she couldn’t back down now. “And then what?” She tried to keep her voice down, in case Darren really was still nearby, but she couldn’t keep her tone level. “What did you imagine would happen after you looked in on me? Did you ever get that far in this scenario?” She was so close to the edge; every thunderous heartbeat brought her an inch closer.

“I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t
think
, Jonah? You didn’t think seeing you for the first time in four years would have an effect on me? You didn’t think about what condition that would
leave
me in? You didn’t think about how I’d pick up the pieces afterward? Again?”

Some part of her was aware she was giving away too much. But the words were out there now, in between them, building to a crescendo that she couldn’t stop. She’d never really believed in her fantasy of calmly talking to Jonah as if their history didn’t exist. As if she didn’t wake sometimes, stretched like one of his guitar strings between pegs, missing him. Missing his touch, his kiss, his arms around her.

Jonah stood, face flushed. “I didn’t
think
it would hurt you.” His shout stunned her. “You didn’t have a problem leaving me, so I didn’t guess it would hurt you to see me now.” He moved away from her. “Not like it’s hurting me.”

The silence after his words was louder than anything they’d said so far. Quinn wanted to stand and run away, but she couldn’t. She had to sit here and bear witness to this living, breathing agony between them. It was giving birth to something new—anger. She hadn’t let herself get truly angry over Jonah in so long. She’d told herself it was better to not dwell on it, that they would have fallen apart anyway, that being hard on him or on her wasn’t going to change or solve anything.

“Quinn, I didn’t mean…”

She closed her eyes, and the breath she drew into her lungs felt sharp and brittle. This was different; this anger was so cold, and went so deep, that it hurt to breathe around it. It was too much on top of losing her mother, on top of the accident and everything she’d worked for being put on hold. On top of her daddy being hurt, and unable to wake up.

She’d foolishly thought she could avoid this with Jonah forever; having their issues shoved in her face, combined with the
arrogance
it took for him to think she could even
look
at him without being affected…

Focusing on the anger meant she could ignore the other emotions seeing him was unearthing. If she let the rage fill her, she could ignore the hurt. Ignore the memories of their last fight, and the shame of the insults she’d thrown at him. Ignore the person she’d become in order to let him go.

“Get out of here.” She could barely manage to whisper the words, but she knew he’d heard her from the way his shoulders rose around him. He was all tension, knotted and snarled around the space he occupied, and he had no right to be.

“Quinn, I—” He turned back around, and those eyes were tormenting her. It was too much, too much,
too much
.

“I said, get
out
of here!” This time it was a scream, so loud and harsh that her throat hurt immediately afterward. The door crashed open seconds later, and Darren barreled into the room. Whatever he gleaned from one look around the room must have been enough for him, because the last thing Quinn saw before she closed her eyes was him herding Jonah out the door. Jonah went without even a look back at her, and Quinn counted to one thousand, giving him plenty of time to leave before she let the first sob overtake her.

~~~~~

Lanie stroked her hair slowly, her fingers combing through in gentle repetition. Quinn shifted in the small mountain of pillows spread out behind both her and Lanie. They had transformed Quinn’s queen-size bed into a sea of blankets, pillows, and various candy wrappers. Quinn’s eyes stung from crying, and a romantic comedy neither of them was watching played on her television.

“It’s going to be okay, Q.”

Quinn shook her head, and escaped stands of hair from her bun fluttered around her face. “It isn’t, Lanie. You didn’t see his face before he left.” She shuddered. “The things I said…”

“You were upset. You weren’t expecting to see him, not here, and now. You’re both hurt and angry, so of course it didn’t go well.”

Frowning, Quinn pushed pause on the movie; the lead characters froze in the middle of an argument. Unlike these characters, Quinn and Jonah wouldn’t spend a day or two apart and then reconcile, and live happily ever after. They weren’t leads in a movie guaranteed to have a happy ending. They would remain paused until one of them apologized, and Quinn honestly didn’t know how to make that happen. Or how to fix things.

“I spent so long missing him and trying not to think about him. Wondering what I’d say to him, wishing I could just re-do that whole day I left.” She glanced at Lanie, then back at the TV. “And then today, I fucked up. He seemed genuine, but Lanie…” She paused, remembering Jonah’s words. How they’d stung. “He said I didn’t have a problem leaving, so he didn’t think it would hurt me to see him.” He’d left hours ago, and she could still clearly see the frustration, rage, and pain etched into his handsome features. “How could he say that?”

Lanie sat up, tucking her long legs underneath her. “I think you both have a lot to work through before you try talking again. You’re both at fault for ending the relationship—from what you told me, Quinn, you both made mistakes.” Her dark eyes met Quinn’s unflinchingly.

Quinn nodded, shame mixing with the leftovers of her anger. “Yeah…we did.” She could barely force out the words, but the truth was undeniable. She bowed her head, trying to live in the present, but their last moments together ghosted through her mind. His fingers tangling with hers, then slipping away. The words he said. The accusations she slung at him. His face falling, expression souring.

“He wanted me to be someone I wasn’t, and I needed to get away from Mom, and from everything” She bit her lip, then released it. “And the truth is, after watching my parents fall apart, I was scared that I was more like them…more like my mom than I was
myself
. But I should have told him everything.” She closed her eyes briefly, trying to forget Jonah’s face. The destroyed boy she’d left behind, deliberately putting first a security checkpoint, then thousands of miles between them. All so she’d be safe. “I was afraid I would suffocate here, but that doesn’t make what I did right. Or how I acted today.”

Lanie squeezed her shoulder, and warmth seeped into Quinn. She smiled at Lanie, and put her hand on top of her friend’s, admiring the contrast between her tan skin, and Lanie’s darker skin. “I wanted to say so many things, and instead I attacked him, and I can’t blame him for getting defensive.”

She was going to see his eyes in her dreams tonight. That much was certain. It was likely she’d relive their meeting from today. It hadn’t gone how she pictured. It was so much worse, and now she felt even more mired down in grief. This was an old hurt, newly sharpened, so it was much keener and focused than before. No amount of distraction or deflection could make it go away.

“I wish I could do something to help.” Lanie frowned, and Quinn was so unused to seeing the expression on her friend’s normally cheerful face that she shook her head.

“You’re here.” She took a deep breath. “That’s more than enough, because the truth is, I don’t think I deserve you.”

“Bull,” Lanie answered, smiling at her now. “You always have, and you always will.”

“I hope so.” The next breath was smoother, if only by a little. She hit play on the movie, and settled back into the pillows, but not before whispering “thank you” to Lanie. She owed Lanie for befriending her, and for staying, despite all Quinn’s issues. For being here now, when she didn’t have to be, and for always being direct with her. Quinn had the feeling she was going to need Lanie now more than ever, but for some of what was coming, she would have to stand on her own, and endure the tests life was preparing for her.