Beneath Our Faults (14 page)

“They’ll come around,” Jamie said, cutting in. “You have been friends too long to let something like that tear you guys apart. They’ll realize you had to do your job.”

My attention moved back and forth to the people talking around the table, curious about the conversation. Daisy had never mentioned anyone named Tessa before. Actually, she hadn’t mentioned anything about her life in Indiana. Where she came frm was all one big mystery.

“Please try to talk to her Daisy. I don’t want to see her go down the wrong path because she doesn’t have the right support system,” Janis said, taking a sip of wine.

“I will,” Daisy answered, failing to look anyone in the eye. I could tell she was uncomfortable. He dad opened his mouth, most likely to continue the conversation, but I stopped him.

“How are you doing with your photography?” I asked, suddenly, throwing out the first thought that came to my mind. My hand swept underneath the table and grabbed her hand into mine to give it a small squeeze. Her gaze drifted up, locking eyes with mine and she smiled.

“It’s going fine,” she said, squeezing my hand one more time before letting go.

“A
DMIT IT,
this was way better than eating some cheap Chinese food and sitting at home,” Daisy said, pointing a spoon my way. I focused in one the spoon, scooping up a glob of whip cream and pie before popping it into her mouth.

She was right, but I refused to admit it. “Your family is nice,” I commented, completely off topic.

A snort escaped her. "Nice, that they are. Overbearing and intrusive, also yes."

"That's not always a bad thing."

"Says the guy who gets to do whatever he wants. It's annoying when people say that about things they've never had to deal with. You will never understand the true fright of undertaking the difficulties of sneaking out your bedroom window or your parents finding out you went to a party drinking Malibu instead of having an all-girls sleepover.”

"Damn girl, I had no idea you were such a little rebel. It's nice to see you at least used to have fun."

She shoved another bite into her mouth and grimaced. "What's that suppose to mean?" She asked, swallowing. "I have fun."

Yeah right. The girl was the essence of unfun. "Name one fun thing you've done since you've been here."

"Lane's party.”

"You got wasted and heaved out your insides. I highly doubt that could be classified as fun.”

"Fine," she burst out. "I'm not a fun person. Happy?" Looking away from me, she shoved another bite into her mouth.

"Damn, no need to get all pissy," I replied, surprised how fired up she had gotten over my words.

"You don't have fun either. You think jumping from bed to bed and treating girls like trash is fun?" she snapped, her voice low and accusatory. Damn, I hit a sore spot.

"Treat girls like trash? I use them the same way they use me. Just because they have a vagina doesn't mean they do no evil. Now what's your excuse?"

"I don't have one."

"So you've always been pissed off and mad at the world?"

"I am not pissed off and mad at the world," she protested, leveling her gaze on me.

"I beg to differ."

"Do you want me to kick you out of my house?"

"You can, but I just need to do one little thing."

"And what is that?"

I grinned, bending down and leaning into her chair. Slowly, I dragged the tip of my thumb across her hot lips.

"Uh what are you doing," she asked, swatting my hand away from her. Ignoring her, I dodged her hands and swiped my thumb across the middle to wipe up the tiny glob of whipped cream on her lips. I grinned, noticing her breathing quicken and her eyes widen as I lifted my thumb to my mouth and sucked on it. "Mmm," I groaned, dragging it out of my mouth. "Someone who tastes this good shouldn't be angry all the time."

She gasped and I waited for whatever response she was going to give me, hoping it wasn’t a punch to the gut, but I got nothing. Her espresso eyes bored into mine and she leaned forward coming my way. I wasn't sure what the hell was about to happen, but I wasn't going to stop it either.

"Charlie Brown Thanksgiving is on!" Sophia screeched; flying into the room, and Daisy flopped back against her chair, shocked. "Come on," Daisy's eye diverted away from me. Sophia waked in between our chairs, grabbing a hand from each of us and pulling it toward the doorway.

Never in my life had I ever been one of those "what-if" people, but that day, for the very first time, I wondered what would have happened if Sophia wouldn't have come barreling into that room.

I
TOSSED
my bag down roughly on the table in front of me, slouching down in a chair. The day wasn’t even halfway over and it was already sucking major ass. I was positive I failed the History pop quiz we had that morning. Then my best friend, Piper, “accidentally” elbowed me in the face during a basketball game in gym. Yippee-freaking-yay.

"I'm telling you, you should have punched her in her perfect snobby nose," Gabby suggested, collapsing in the chair next to mine. "I totally would have vouched for you."

I huffed loudly, unzipping my bag for the water bottle that was shoved in there somewhere, but paused my search when I felt my phone start to vibrate. Grabbing it from the side pocket, I looked down at the screen to see
mom
flashing across it. Weird. My mom never tried to call me when I was in school. I ignored the call, sending it to voicemail, when a text popped up on my screen.

DAWSON: Tessa tried to kill herself. She's at Hancock Memorial.

My empty stomach dropped reading the words and my hands fell open, allowing my phone to slide out onto the wooden table. This couldn't be happening. Tessa wouldn't be that stupid. I jumped out of my seat, knocking the chair back, and throwing my bag over my shoulder before taking off out of the cafeteria like a bat out of hell. I could hear Cora and Gabby's voices behind me, calling out, but I ignored them and ran faster. It was my fault. If I had been there for Tessa, if I would have taken her calls, she would have never done it. I could have helped her but I was being too damn selfish.

I ran to an isolated hallway. I bent down at the waist, catching my breath. "Breathe in, breathe out," I repeated the words over and over again.

"Daisy!" Keegan sprinted down the hallway toward me. I stayed motionless, waiting for him. "Babe," he whispered, when he reached me. I shook my head walking straight into his strong arms without hesitation. Falling deeper into his chest, he tightened his hold around me. His hands rubbed my back while he kept whispering in my ear that whatever it was, I was going to be okay. Walking backwards with my head still buried into his shirt, we retreated until we were no longer in the middle of the hallway.

"What happened?" he asked, keeping his hold on me as we sluggishly slid down onto the cold floor, leaning our backs against the hard lockers lining the wall behind us.

"Do you remember the friend my parents said they were worried about on Thanksgiving?" I asked.

He nodded his head. "Tara?"

"Tessa," I corrected. "I just got a text message telling me she is in the hospital. I guess she- she tried to kill herself."

"Fuck," he bit out. "Do you need to go home and see her?"

"I - I'm not really sure," I stuttered. "I want to but it's all the way in Indiana."

"We better get going then," he said, pulling himself up and holding out his arm for me. "We can fly or drive, it's your choice, babe."

I looked up at him blinking.

"Fly or drive?" I asked, repeating his words in disbelief.

"Which one?" His held his hand out farther for me.

"Drive," I answered suddenly, grasping my hand around his and allowing him to lift me up from the floor. I didn't have money for a plane ticket and there was no way I was letting him buy me one.

"Do we need to stop by your house and grab anything or are you good?" He asked me.

"I'm good." The majority of my stuff was still back at home, anyways. "Unless you need to stop by your house."

"Nope," he shook his head. "If I need anything, I'll just buy it whenever we get there."

F
OUR HOURS
had passed when we got our first snowflake, sprinkling down on Keegan's windshield. The car ride had been hushed since I called my mom, who was shaken up about the entire situation. Tessa was like my sister and a second daughter to my mom. She didn't give me much information on the phone, just reassured me that Tessa was okay but wouldn't be getting released from the hospital for a few days.

I sighed, admiring the fallen flakes with Tessa still on my mind. "I love the snow, " I muttered. Tessa, Tanner and I had always reverted back to small children whenever the snow would build up on the ground, dragging out our sleds out into the cold and having snowball fights.

"Eh," Keegan said, maneuvering lanes and honking at the car in front of us.

You don't like snow?" I questioned, incredulously. "If you don't then you have major problems. Everybody loves the snow."

"I never said I didn't like the snow. Don't go putting words in my mouth," he smiled. "I'm a fan of snow when I'm on a ski trip or vacation, shit like that. What I don't like is snow when I am in a hurry and have to drive down the interstate with fucking morons."

He had a point there. Everyone was driving under the speed limit like it was the first time they had ever seen snow. "We usually don't get too much snow in Atlanta," he explained, and the huge wipers on the windshield squeaking back and forth. "You guys get this shit a lot back home?"

"Usually.”

"Then you are coming this year with us to the cabin on New Year’s.”

"Huh?"

"We are all going to Lane's parent's place in the Smoky Mountains for New Years this year. You like the snow, so you're going."

"Eh, I think I might have something going on." I definitely had nothing going on.

"Don't lie. I know you think you are too sad to have fun and shit but that is what's going to help you. You don't need to sit up in your damn room all the time."

"I'm not sad.”

"You are,” he said, shaking his head. His hand swept into the glove compartment, pulling out an iPod and handing it over to me. "Let's play a game." I wanted to play a game like I wanted a bullet to the head.

"I'm not really in the mood to play a game," I informed him, squirming in my seat. I wasn't trying to sound unappreciative of the fact he was driving me thousands of miles to go see my friend, but it just wasn't the idea of fun to me at the time.

"It's an easy game, really. We both pick a song that reminds us one of one another. I promise we won't giggle together or have more fun than you can handle."

"Fine. But you have to go first."

"Got it," he called out, turning the volume knob on the radio. A song I'd never heard before began to spill out of the every speaker in the car. I tucked a strand of hair back letting the lyrics soak me in.

"What song is this?" I asked.

"It's called
Let Her Cry
by Hootie and The Blowfish."

I nodded, letting the words speak to me. It was like they climbed into my brain, captured every thought running through it and chose that song about their discovery. I was this song's muse.