Clutch (Custom Culture) (4 page)

Chapter 5

Clutch

Barrett and I had spent the rest of the day just hanging out. He’d felt well enough in the evening to eat, and by that time I was ready to eat a damn brontosaurus. The day off had been so good for me, I’d called into the shop to let Scotlyn know that I’d be working from home for another day. I needed some time to absorb everything, and, besides, I’d been working my ass off for months.

No longer hungry, and feeling much better, Barrett had slept through the morning. I’d spent the first half of the day online searching for parts, and my stomach was beginning to protest from lack of attention. I hadn’t been to Freefall in ages, and I decided to head over there and pick up Nix for lunch.

I left Barrett a note. It looked as if he was going to sleep most of the day. It was the best thing for him. He’d be up and back to normal soon and then I would have to worry about keeping him out of trouble.

Cassie was standing at the counter working on the receipt book when I walked in. I could hear the buzz of Nix’s guns coming from his back room. Cassie glanced up and pushed her glasses up higher on her nose. “Hey, Clutch,” she said without much enthusiasm.

I reached the counter. “What’s with the frosty greeting? You mad about something?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Sorry about that. I’m just a little pissed at Dray. That’s all.” Right then Dray’s loud laugh rocked the back room and she sighed. Her big dark eyes were magnified by the thick lenses. “The idiot is getting my name tattooed across his shoulder.”

“And this has you pissed because . . .”

She shut the receipt book. “A tattoo is so permanent. I guess I’m just superstitious, but I think it’s tempting fate. What if something happens between us? Then he’s stuck with my name on his skin. I just think it’s a bad idea.”

“I get it.” I pointed to the obnoxiously arrogant tattoo of a blank billboard with
your name here
written on it. Nix had warned me against getting it, but I’d insisted, and now full regret had set in. “But, I think even though you two are definitely an odd couple, it was meant to be.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she said sounding not the slightest bit convinced by my argument. Then her face brightened. “Hey, I got a paying gig from a skater magazine. They sent me out to shoot at a skate competition and they liked my stuff.”

“That’s amazing, Cass. I’m happy for you. I noticed you had your glasses on again.”

“I still have the contacts. I just don’t like wearing them.” She smiled up at me. “I’ve been wearing thick glasses since I was three.”

“Three? Damn, that’s young.”

She laughed softly. “I was sitting a foot from the television trying hard to watch my favorite cartoon. My mom walked through the room and said, ‘Cassie, don’t sit so close or it will hurt your eyes’. I was three. I just figured that everyone else was seeing the same blurry mess that I was seeing. Like a good little girl, I scooted back a few inches. But when she walked back through, I had inched forward again. My mom walked up behind me and started crying.” Cassie’s tone softened as she seemed to be remembering back to the day. She shook the past from her head. “Anyhow, every time I passed a mirror with the contacts I didn’t recognize myself. It was creepy. Like a stranger’s reflection was staring back at me. Besides, they are a pain to take care of, and I think my pictures are better when I have my glasses on.”

I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Well, I think you are a goddess with or without them.”

A faint blush crept into her cheeks. “And you, my Viking friend, should be the main character in a romance novel.”

I looked toward the back room. “So, is it just Dray and Nix back there?”

Her face fell again as I reminded her of the tattoo. Most girls would have been thrilled with the prospect, but Cassie always had both feet firmly on the ground. “Yeah, you can go back.”

Nix looked up from his work. “Hey, how’s Barrett doing?”

“He’s doing a lot better. He rode all the way down from San Francisco on that shitty bike, and I think he was half-starved and dehydrated . . . among other things. Now I just have to keep him from going back to the stuff, which I think will be more than half the battle.” Nix and Dray had seen him that night, and there was no way to sugar coat it. I walked over and looked down at the tattoo.

Dray twisted back and looked up at me. “How does it look?”

“Great, but I don’t think Cassie’s too thrilled about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Can you fucking believe it? Do you know how many chicks would kill to have their name tattooed on my shoulder?”

Nix rolled his eyes.

I glanced back to the front room. “Well, I would have thought Cassie, and that would have been at least one. But apparently the answer is zero.”

Nix lifted the gun off Dray’s shoulder and laughed hard.

“Look who’s talking,” Dray said, “I haven’t seen anyone fill their name in on your stupid billboard tattoo yet.” He laughed and I knew what was coming next. “Unless you count the time Taylor wrote hers in with a permanent marker.”

“For someone who gets his head slammed on the mat a lot, you sure hang on to stupid, meaningless memories,” I said.

Nix wiped off Dray’s shoulder and admired his handiwork. “You’re done. Cassie better not be pissed at me about this. You’re taking full blame.” He looked up at me. “That reminds me, I found something that I think will work to cover that billboard tattoo. I can do it whenever you have time.”

“Great.”

Dray pushed off the table and walked to the mirror on the wall. He spun around a few times like a dog chasing his tail until Nix passed him a handheld mirror. “Here, Jackass. Unless you’re an owl, it’s pretty hard to look at your own shoulder blade.”

“Looks good.” Dray handed the mirror back to Nix. “I think she’ll like it.” His confidence was dumbfounding.

“Care to lay odds on that?” I asked.

“Shut up.” Dray balled his shirt up in his hand. “At least I admit it when I love someone.”

Nix laughed. “Yeah, after about a year of denying it.”

“It’s called self-control, Pal. You should try it sometime. Girls hate desperation.” Dray bowed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I promised my lady some lunch.”

Dray’s comment had been obnoxious and cocky, like the man himself, but it had hit home. I’d grown up in a house of brothers and had a father who shunned emotional attachments. When something hurt or bothered you, you kept it to yourself or risked getting teased mercilessly. We never even made much out of holidays or birthdays because too much emotion came with those sentimental traditions. I was a fumbling fool when it came to dealing with my feelings, so most of the time I just ignored them. They got in the way of living.

I looked over at Nix. “Thought you might want to go eat. Barrett was sleeping and I took the day off.”

“Sounds good, but do you mind if we pick up Scotlyn? I promised her lunch.”

“We could postpone it. I don’t want to intrude on your date.”

Nix looked up from his task. “It’s lunch, not a date, and she’d be thrilled to have you along. She adores you.”

“At least someone does,” I said under my breath.

“What?”

I shook my head. “Oh nothing. Taylor is back in town.”

Nix looked back at me over his shoulder. “Again?”

I sat forward. “What do you mean again?”

My sharp tone made him stop what he was doing and turn around. “Well, I knew she’d come into town a few times to visit. Scotlyn mentioned it. What the hell are you so bent up about? Didn’t you know?”

“No, I didn’t know, but apparently the rest of the world knew.”

Nix seemed to be sorting out what I’d just said and then his expression assured me that he’d figured it out. “Jason didn’t tell you?”

“Nope. Apparently, she has been forbidden to go anywhere near me.”

“But why?”

“It seems I’ve been the reason behind all of her wild behavior. How do you like that for being the unsuspecting fall guy?”

“That sucks.” He turned back around and finished his clean up. “I’m definitely ready for lunch.” As he walked toward me, I realized he looked as tired as I’d felt the day before.

“You look like you’ve been up all night,” I said.

“Yeah.”

This time I rolled my eyes.

He caught it. “No, it’s not that.” He paused and smiled. “Although the sex is amazing.”

I held up my hand. “Take pity. I’ve been flopped on the couch with my kid brother watching porn for two days. I don’t need to hear about your earth shattering sex life.”

“Sorry. Actually, Scotlyn has been having a lot of nightmares and then she wakes up and she wants to talk about stuff.”

“That’s good. The poor kid had all of that crap bottled up for years with no one to listen. She’ll get better, Nix. She’s healing.”

I could see the strain of it in his face. “Yeah, I know. And I’m there for her, but sometimes it’s painful to hear. She really had it bad, and sometimes, when she doesn’t realize I’m looking at her,” he smiled to himself, “and believe me, I’m always looking at her, she still looks lost and sad.”

“And that’s where you come in.” Ridiculously, I was better at helping other people understand their feelings. That way it was easier to ignore my own.

Nix nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Nix had texted ahead, and Scotlyn was getting her stuff ready to go as we walked in.

Two seconds later, Jason walked out with a hot dog in his hand. His mouth dropped in surprise when he saw me. “I thought you took the day off.”

“I did. Just came by to pick up Scotlyn for lunch.”

Voices floated out from the back office, and Jason’s face twisted. A girl’s laugh bounced out next, and the sound of it went straight into my chest. She walked out and froze, the expression on her face mirroring exactly how I felt. Jason had been right. She’d grown up a lot since I’d seen her last. Her incredible copper hair picked up the light coming through the shop window, and I tightened my fist against the urge I had to touch it. The impossibly long pair of tanned legs that had often kept me up at night, stretched out from a pair of jean cut-offs, and I realized I hadn’t taken a breath. A guy I’d never seen before walked out next. He was tall and looked like the type that girls went nuts for. Just like Rett, he looked like the kind of guy who was irritatingly comfortable and confident in his skin.

He was oblivious to the thick tension in the room. “You ready to go, Taylor?”

Taylor was still staring at me. Her glossed lips were slightly parted in shock. She ignored him. “Hey.” It was the first time I’d ever heard her sound shy. There was nothing shy about Taylor Flinn. Everything about her was like an explosive fireworks show. Just having her stand inside the shop made the place feel different, as if the walls suddenly vibrated with life.

“I just heard you were back in town.” I cast a cold glare toward her brother.

She nodded and a trembling smile formed at the edge of her lips. It seemed to occur to her that her boyfriend was standing next to her. “Oh, this is Adam. We were just leaving.”

I didn’t say another word and crossed my arms, a habit that I’d adopted whenever Taylor was near. As she brushed past me leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume, it dawned on me why I’d always tensed up around her. Nix had teased me about it for a long time, but I’d always ignored him. She was a kid. She was too young, too enticing, and if I’d let Nix’s teasing penetrate then I would have had to admit to myself that I wanted her. I’d built a wall, both physically and mentally, and now, it seemed that that wall was coming down brick by brick.

They walked out. Jason avoided looking at me and made the wise decision to finish his hot dog in the backroom. Scotlyn and Nix stared at me, waiting for me to say something, but there was nothing to say.

“Just a minute,” I finally growled and headed into the restroom. I leaned down and threw cold water on my face. I braced my hands on the sides of the sink. It sounded as if the whole vanity might come loose. I straightened and took a deep breath before plowing my fist through the bathroom wall. The plaster flaked off in chunks and my knuckles throbbed, but I felt better. I walked out to the front of the shop.

Nix was holding back a smile. “Boy, you were really taking care of business in there.”

“Shut the hell up,” I said and stormed past him. “Let’s go somewhere where they serve beer in pitchers.”

Chapter 6

Taylor

Adam said something as we climbed into his car, but I had no idea what.

Even after the crappy morning we’d had at the hot dog stand the day before, I’d talked Adam into taking me there again. I’d promised Jason that I would bring him a hot dog, and he’d assured me that Clutch was off for the day. I’d convinced myself that as long as I didn’t run into him, I’d be fine. And that might have been true . . . eventually, but seeing him at the shop had started the emotional turmoil and heartbreak all over again. It seemed my whole life had been a series of sadly-ever-after episodes when it came to Clutch. As silly as I was, I’d convinced myself that the guy would come around some day. He knew I was crazy about him, embarrassingly so, and I’d always figured he would feel the same way too if I bugged him enough. And I had definitely bugged him. I had been such a fool. When I thought about my asinine, little girl antics around Clutch and how he’d tensed and scowled whenever I neared him, I realized I’d been completely delusional.

Adam leaned over and kissed me. He could have reached over and slapped me and gotten the same trance-like reaction. “Earth to Taylor.”

I forced a smile. “Sorry, I left the planet for a second.”

He performed a happy little drumbeat on his steering wheel. “Well, we’ve got the rest of the afternoon. I don’t have to be at work until six. What should we do?” His white teeth gleamed in the sunlight pouring through the windshield. “We could head down to the beach.”

“I promised my mom I’d mop floors today.” It had been the first lame excuse to come into my head. My stomach felt cold and achy as I pretended that nothing had happened in the shop to throw me into a tailspin, and suddenly, it occurred to me that I’d been way too selfish. Adam had been so cool about everything, always giving in even when it was something he didn’t really want to do. As much as I enjoyed being around him, the truth was, I’d been using him badly, both to fill a void and to keep my parents off my back. But just now, in the shop, it had dawned on me that there was no way to fill the Clutch-sized hole in my heart.

Adam started the car. His good mood had been squashed by disappointment. A stiff silence fell between us, and the icky feeling in my stomach grew. Adam fidgeted with the radio and finally shut if off completely.

“That big dude in your brother’s shop, that was Clutch, wasn’t it?”

I stared out the window at nothing in particular. “Yeah, that’s him.” The nonchalance in my voice was so contrived, even Adam, who was, in general, not great at reading me, could not have missed it. It was almost as if I could hear the loud cracking sound of the fake shell I’d constructed to keep my parents and Jason off my back. I’d managed, quite skillfully, to fool them into thinking I’d changed, that I’d become the perfectly conforming, well-behaved, good decision maker they’d always dreamed of. And as unhappy as I’d been, I’d tried to persuade myself that it would be all right. Five seconds in the same room with Clutch had destroyed my resolve. Adam deserved way better than me.

“Is it true that you had a thing for the guy?” I’d hoped that my curt answer would have taken him off the subject. He glanced briefly at me. “Some of my friends were talking about it one day.”

I didn’t answer, which I figured was response enough. He turned up my street and stopped in front of my house, and I really wanted to hop out. But I owed him more than that. “Look, Adam, you know how much I like you—”

“Godammit, Taylor, you aren’t actually going to use the
you know how much I like you
line. Save it. I don’t want the
you poor guy, I feel so bad for you
, break up. All I know, is everything was fine until you saw your brother’s partner. Good luck with that. The guy looks like a total asshole.”

“He’s not. It’s complicated. Adam, I really do have a great time with you, but—”

He stuck up his hand to silence me. “Just stop, Taylor. Go. I don’t need your pity.”

“Great, I will save my breath then.” I opened the door and shot out of his car. His tires screeched as he tore off down the street. Tears burned my eyes as I raced up the driveway. I’d been a terrible bitch about everything, and even though Adam had acted cold and dismissive, I knew I’d just screwed with his head. I’d been forced into becoming someone so far from my true self that I’d momentarily lost the real Taylor. But that was over.

In one of those hard to explain coincidences, I walked in as my mom, clad in yellow rubber gloves, was bent over a bucket squeezing out a mop. Mom had always been one of those mild, conservative, take things slowly decision makers. My parents had dated five years before they’d decided to get married, and something told me it had been a dull, chaste five years. My impulsiveness had always worried her. She’d even considered medication to settle me down, but the doctors had assured her it was just my spirit and nothing more. Even at ten, I’d sensed that it was not the diagnosis she had hoped for.

“You’re home already? Why did Adam leave? You should have invited him in. I made some oatmeal cookies.” She wiped a strand of her gray flecked hair from her face with the back of her forearm. She hadn’t noticed my tear streaked cheeks. I honestly believed that sometimes she ignored any emotional turmoil on my part because it fit better into her quiet, calm life. “Did Jason like his hot dog?”

I shrugged. “I’m sure he did. We didn’t stick around to find out. Do you need some help with the floors?” Mom kept an immaculate house. A tidy house was a source of pride for her. Her clean obsession worked well for me because it meant she avoided my ‘tornado’ room most of the time.

Mom looked down at the gleaming tile beneath her feet. “It’s all done now, and besides Dear, you never do it right. You don’t switch the water enough, and it always leaves a soapy streak.”

“I guess I’ll mark cleaning woman off my list of future careers.” I trudged toward my room, closed the door behind me and pushed aside the pile of neatly folded clothes Mom had left on my bed. I stared up at the ceiling thinking about everything. I’d left California so heartbroken by Clutch not giving a damn about me being shipped off that I’d decided it was the best thing for me. Being out from under the watchful eye of my parents and Jason and even his nosy-assed girlfriend, Sarah, had been a bonus. But once in Florida, I’d realized there was nothing there for me. I didn’t know anyone and Aunt Susan wasn’t exactly the type to have a roaring social life, so I’d nearly died of boredom . . . and humidity. When I traveled back for my eighteenth birthday, I decided I would do anything not to have to go back. I’d signed over my soul and my heart just to stay home.

I pushed to my feet and walked over to the one oasis of clean in my room, my desk. I’d organized it with my drawing pencils and sketch pads. Creating fashions with charcoal and colored pencils and then turning them into patterns and garments had kept me from going completely mad whenever I’d gotten grounded. Growing up, it had been a weekly occurrence, and most of the time I’d earned it. But I was an adult now, just six weeks away from graduating high school, and while I still tended to make dumb decisions, I was past the age of being punished.

I opened to a clean sheet of paper and started sketching a short tunic style dress with an extra long belt and short boots. My pencil flew back and forth in short purposeful strokes. The finished product looked like something a medieval girl might wear, maybe even a girl who was waiting for her Viking husband to return from a voyage. Costumes and historical time periods were my favorite. Even though I knew they weren’t the type of style that would be flying off the department store shelf, it was what I liked. I ripped the paper off the pad and stuck it on the wall next to the Regency meets goth look I’d created after reading Northanger Abbey in English. The flirty feminine styles of the Jane Austen era were cool but the gothic elements of the novel kept drawing me back to a dark, spicier version of Regency fashion. The whole idea ended up being just a bit too odd and I’d never made it into a pattern. A lot of my stuff was outlandish but someday I planned to design fashion for a living. Naturally, my
supportive
,
open-minded
parents thought my dream of becoming a fashion designer was comical.

I plodded back over to my bed and stretched out. I’d ended things abruptly with Adam, and I would probably be scorned at school for the remainder of my senior year, but I’d done the right thing. In fact, continuing to date him would have been the wrong thing in a lot of ways. Adam was still a big man on campus with or without me, and he would recover quickly. Surely, Facebook was already blowing up with the news, and girls would be pushing each other’s posts out of the way to get his attention.

Mom knocked lightly and then poked her head inside. Her cheeks were shiny and red from cleaning floors. “Jason and Sarah are coming for dinner. Why don’t you invite Adam?” This thing with Adam had turned my mom into the happiest, sparkliest person in the world.

I opened my mouth to let her know he was working, which was the truth, but it would leave out the unpleasant stuff. Then I decided that, like a stubborn bandage, I just needed to get it over with. “We broke up.” I hadn’t taken the trouble to sit up or look at her. I just blurted my declaration toward the ceiling.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, unfortunately. Her hands went on her hips as she stared down at the dress pattern I had pinned over fabric. “This room is a disaster. It’s not safe to leave pins on the floor.”

I looked over at her. She’d taught me to sew when I was seven. I’d begged her to teach me for a month, and she had finally relented. And it turned out to be some of the best time we’d spent together. “Remember when we sewed that dress for my sixth grade dance, Mom?”

She grunted. “Do I? I’ve never attempted to work with taffeta again. It was awful.”

She’d remembered it as awful, and I’d remembered it as awesome. “We had fun, and it turned out to be the best dress at the dance.”

“I guess it wasn’t too bad when it was done.” She looked over at me and there was a fleeting twinkle of momness in her eyes. “You are so pretty that you could have walked into the dance in a potato sack and still have been the most beautiful girl in the room.”

She hadn’t said anything like it to me in a long time, and my eyes ached as I kept back tears.

“Anyhow, back to the subject of Adam.” She could ruin a moment as quickly as she could build it up. “It was probably just a little spat. He’ll get over it soon enough.”

“Pollyanna,” I muttered under my breath.

“What?”

“Nothing, Mom, but believe me when I tell you it’s over. Adam and I are too different.”

She nearly tripped on the clothes I’d pushed onto the floor. “I spent a long time folding these things.” She bent over to pick them up.

“Leave them, Mom. I’ll get them later.”

She sat on the edge of my bed. It seemed I was going to be blessed with a heart to heart with her. “Different is a good thing. Opposites attract and all that,” she said with a laugh. “Adam will be back, you’ll see.”

“I broke it off. He’s not coming back, and I don’t want him to. He’s not for me, and I’m definitely not for him.”

A long pause filled the air and then an angry sigh broke the silence. “Don’t forget the deal, Taylor Marie.” Pollyanna had vanished with the revelation that a reunion between Adam and me was not possible. “You need to stay out of trouble.”

I leaned up on my elbows. “Really, you’re going to resort to the middle name thing. I haven’t heard it since I was in eighth grade and I got caught ditching school.”

The rosy cheeks and sweet smile were gone and her
mom
scowl darkened her face. Of course, it never had much effect on me, or at least not as much effect as the spine-chilling
dad
scowl. “You know the rules, Kiddo.” She stepped over the clothes and headed to the door.

“That’s the problem, Mom. I’m not a kid anymore. I’m eighteen. You can kick me out of the house, but you can’t tell me where to go, or what to wear, or who to date.” I’d made a conscious effort to keep my voice calm, and it threw her for a second. We’d had some pretty good screaming matches during my teen years, but I was not going to let her reduce me to a hysterical teenager. Not anymore.

Her mouth pursed together as she seemed to be formulating her reply. “We’ll see what your dad says about that.” She spun around sharply on her heels and left the room.

When Mom was done dealing with me she was always more than pleased to hand me off to Dad. It was pretty damn cowardly, but frankly, I was done trying to fit into his mold for the perfect daughter.