Dusk (Young Adult Paranormal Romance) (15 page)

Adrian squeezed me tighter as he finished reading. “Do his words make you feel any different?”

I shrugged, because I truly did not know. “It’s what I expected. He said all the right things, all the things dads are supposed to say to reassure their kids. I think I’m probably more receptive to it now than I would’ve been that day.”

“Then that’s progress,” Adrian said. “Just recognizing that you can receive his words in a more effective way now.”

Nodding, I turned to face him, our faces only an inch apart. I wanted so badly to deserve him. “There’s more.”

“Another email?”

I shook my head. “More about that day. The things I said to him.” My voice broke and I closed my eyes to hold back the tears.

“You were angry,” Adrian whispered, pointing toward the email still displayed on the screen. “He knew that. Even told you he understood it.”

“I told him I hated him.” I dropped my head to his shoulder, so ashamed to utter the next words. “Told him I wished he was dead. Those were the last words I ever said to him.”

Adrian lifted my face, his palms soft against my cheeks as he held me still and looked directly into my eyes. “You did not mean those words. I know you didn’t mean them. You know you didn’t mean them. And your father knew you didn’t mean them.”

“But how can he forgive me for saying such awful things?” Tears spilled down my cheeks and Adrian wiped them away. “How can I ever forgive myself?”

“You know your father has forgiven you,” he whispered. “Without you even asking, he forgave you that day.”

“I don’t know how to get over it. I feel like the most awful person on the planet. Like I deserve all the bad things that have happened to me.”

“You were angry, and you had a reason to be. No one argued that. Not even your father.” He moved his hands from my face and encircled me in his arms, his embrace strong and sure. Tucking my head in the crook of his neck, he went on. “Anger that strong takes on a life of its own, and even though I know you couldn’t help it at the time, you let it become your identity. When anger defines you, it’s even harder to let go of.”

My tears slowed down as his words began to sink in. He was right. “I don’t want to be the angry girl anymore.”

“You don’t have to be,” he whispered, squeezing me tighter. “You’re already on your way.”

“How do you know?”

“Could you have said that before school started?” he asked. “That you didn’t want to be angry anymore? Because the girl I first met was holding on to that anger with both hands and enjoying it.”

I shook my head. “No. I couldn’t have honestly said that a few weeks ago.”

“See.” He pulled back enough to wink at me. “Progress.”

“But I still feel angry.”

“Feeling it is natural,” he replied. “Wanting to keep it is dangerous. You’ve finally figured out the difference.”

“Were you born with a counseling degree?” I joked, wiggling back enough to take in his expression.

“Just talented,” he said with a grin.

“Knowing it was Courtney’s mom shouldn’t make it worse,” I said, composed enough to sit back in my spot on the bench. “But somehow it does.”

“Having it dumped on you in front of everyone didn’t help.”

“I believed my parents,” I admitted. “That they wanted to work things out. At first I told myself they were just saying that so I’d feel better, but I really did believe them. Even before Dad died. But hearing Courtney say how in love my dad was with her mom, it makes me question.”

“I don’t think Courtney is a reliable source of information.”

“She isn’t,” I agreed. “And my head knows that. It’s my heart that’s having trouble.”

“What would put your heart at ease?” he asked, reaching out to twist a strand of my hair around his index finger.

“I think I need you to take me back.” It seemed completely unreal that I was asking Adrian to take me back in time. Even more unreal that somehow it had become a part of my reality.

“What do you want to see?” he asked.

“Whatever I need to see to forgive him,” I whispered. “And myself.”

“Do you trust me to show you?”

“Yes.” I gripped both his hands. “I trust you.”

W
hen Mom pulled up in the driveway, Adrian and I were still at the picnic table. Not used to finding the two of us there when she got home from work, she headed toward us once she was out of the car.

“Adrian,” she said. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too, Mrs. Gray.” He stood, offering his hand like the gentleman he was.

“Everything all right at school today?” she asked, as they shook hands.

I shrugged my shoulders. “As all right as it can be, I guess.”

“Nikki and Courtney were suspended for what happened,” Adrian said. “Or at least, that’s the word anyway. Since they weren’t at school, I figure it’s true.”

“I still don’t understand why those two would have it out for you, Zoe. Or why Courtney would be so…” she broke off before she finished and dropped her eyes to the ground, clearly self-conscious about discussing it in front of Adrian.

But Adrian did what he did best. The soft, soothing breeze moved around us, and I watched as Mom’s shoulders and posture visibly relaxed.

“There’s no rhyme or reason when it comes to people like the two of them,” he said. “Nothing is gained from meanness and dishonesty.”

Mom nodded and smiled at him.

“Mrs. Gray, I was wondering if you’d let me take Zoe to the deli in town for dinner,” Adrian said, switching subjects seamlessly. “She tells me that’s where kids sometimes hang out.”

My eyes shot toward him, surprise and alarm rearing up inside me. I hadn’t been to any of the regular social spots since our family fell apart. Would I even know how to act?

Adrian must’ve noticed my panicked expression, because he quickly added, “That is, if you want to go.”

It occurred to me then that he was asking me on a date. Had even asked my mom permission. I’d be a terrible person if I said no.

“Of course.” I looked at mom. “If it’s okay with you.”

She smiled, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. Dating was a normal teenage activity, and she’d been waiting for months to see me return to the regular ways of a high school girl. I figured she was also smart enough to realize that Adrian had been a good influence on me.

She had no idea how right she was.

She nodded “It’s a school night, though, so be home early.”

“No problem, Mrs. Gray,” Adrian replied. “We’ll just have dinner then head back here.”

“Thanks Mom,” I said, as Adrian made his way toward the driveway where his bike was parked, and I headed inside to drop by book bag and laptop in my room.

When I stepped out the front door, I noticed immediately that an extra helmet, white with some sort of writing on it, was strapped to his bike. He’d brought an extra helmet with him. On purpose. Obviously, he’d planned this date. The thought made my heart expand.

He handed the helmet to me, and upon closer inspection I saw the capital Z painted on the side. The bright yellow paint and the fancy script of the letter were decidedly feminine.

“I picked that up in Lexington last weekend,” he said, reaching over to help me fasten the strap under my chin. “I figured you might like to have your own, since your going to be riding with me a lot.”

His thoughtfulness overwhelmed me. I was astonished, not only because he’d purchased a helmet just for me but also because of what it signified.

A commitment. Wow.

“You are going to be riding with me a lot, aren’t you?” he asked. I realized I’d been stunned into silence.

I didn’t really trust my voice at that moment, but after such a wonderful gesture he deserved a response. I reached for his hands, which were busy strapping on his own helmet, and whispered, “Of course. And thank you.”

He looked at me then, his eyes locking on to mine. The passion and strength in those baby blues nearly knocked me off my feet. My tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, because with the huge tidal wave of emotion crashing through me, there was no telling what might come out of my mouth if I tried to talk.

“Have fun, you two!” Mom called from the front porch, breaking the moment.

Adrian climbed on and I hopped up behind him, wrapping my arms around him as he eased the bike from the driveway to the road.

“Our first real date,” he said, turning his head so I could hear.

I tightened my arms around his middle and snuggled close. As nervous as I was to walk into the deli where there would no doubt be lots of other kids, I was even happier to be with Adrian, knowing he wanted to be with me, too.

*     *     *

Deke’s Deli was a locally owned sandwich shop on the corner of Main Street and South Rison Avenue. It had been around for as long as I could remember, and could be found packed with kids most summer afternoons thanks to the soft serve ice cream machine.

Adrian rolled to a stop in a parking spot in the far corner of the lot. I hopped off first and removed my new helmet. I still couldn’t believe he’d gotten me my own, personalized helmet. Straightening, I ran my fingers through my hair to fluff up what the helmet had flattened out.

“I know I kind of ambushed you on the dinner thing,” he said, taking both helmets and attaching them to the motorcycle seat with a bungee cord. “Didn’t want to give you a chance to talk yourself out of it.”

“I figured that.” I grinned up at him.

“It’ll be fine, you know.” He reached for my hand, laced our fingers together, and headed toward the entrance.

Stepping through the front door at Deke’s was just like I remembered it. The bell above the door dinged, and all the kids packed into the red vinyl booths turned to look at who had arrived. I smiled and waved at Nick Henry and Andrea Bishop, glad for at least a few familiar and friendly faces.

Nick’s obvious affection for Andrea was probably the reason for his student government run.

As Adrian turned to walk toward an empty booth near the side window, red curly hair from the other side of the dining room caught my eye.

Vivian.

And Brett.

The desire to go over and talk to her came so naturally it startled me. It was like my heart didn’t want to acknowledge what my mind knew… that Vivian didn’t want to talk to me.

Viv turned and saw me, and I didn’t look away. I just stared at her and hoped my sadness and contrition were evident in my expression. After a second, she turned back toward Brett without any reaction.

God, that hurt.

But it was my own fault, and I knew it.

Adrian squeezed my hand and gently tugged me to the empty booth. He didn’t say anything. He slid into the seat beside me, rather than across, and draped his arm across my shoulder.

For a long moment we sat silent as activity buzzed all around us. I loved that he didn’t try to make things better. He just let me feel my sadness.

But I knew that feeling sorry for myself wasn’t going to help, so I took a deep breath and looked up at him, letting him know I was okay.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Of course,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Ready to order?”

I nodded, rattling off my standard Deke’s order of ham and provolone cheese on wheat, with lettuce and oil and vinegar dressing.

Adrian walked to the counter to order, and returned a moment later with our drinks. We sipped as we waited for our ticket number to be called.

“So, for our second date I was thinking a picnic,” he said, sliding his arm across the back of the booth. “Down at the clearing.”

My pulse picked up at the thought. Though we’d been to the clearing several times together, to plan something special was a different thing altogether. That he was intentionally arranging dates with me made my heart sing.

“That sounds wonderful,” I answered. “When?”

“I was thinking on Saturday.”

“Okay.”

“And afterward,” he said, lowering his voice and bending his head closer to my ear, “I can take you back. If you still want me to, that is. It’s a private place where we won’t be disturbed.”

Before I could respond, the air turned clammy and a musty odor assaulted me. I knew what this was. I’d experienced it in the bathroom they day of Courtney’s big announcement.

Without moving my body, I darted my eyes around the room, looking for the source of the change in atmosphere.

I found him near the cash register, leaned against the counter. His arms were folded across his chest, just as they’d been the last time.

He looked like my father. He was dressed like Dad, in khaki pants and a green polo shirt. But the look in his eyes sent chills down my spine.

His mouth quirked up on one side, as if mocking me, and he shook his head in a gesture of impatience.

The words sang through my head then, loud and clear.

It doesn’t matter how much you try.

No! I would not give in to this trickery. This was not my father. Adrian had said so.

But as the image began to dissolve and the air began to clear, a voice deep inside me whispered that he’d been right.

It really didn’t matter how much I tried. I would never be worthy of Adrian. And I would never be forgiven for all I’d done.