Starless Nights (Hale Brothers Series Book 2) (35 page)

AFTER BRUNCH, LEILA and I decide to curl up under a blanket on the couch and watch a movie. I can’t help but continue to run through my mind, over and over again, the fact that she didn’t know I was at the fire. That makes sense to me now, but what about the letter?

“Lei?” Her head is lying in my lap and all I can see is her side profile. I tuck some of her hair behind her ear with one hand, while my other rubs her back and arm.

“Yeah?” She rolls back against me a little and glances up.

“So, I get that you didn’t know I was at the fire, but what I still don’t understand is why did you write me that letter? Why didn’t you try and talk to me?”

She stiffens, tilts her head to get a better look at me, her eyebrows furrow, and she thinks about her answer. “Because, what she said sounded so true.”

She?
I stop running my hand up and down her arm. “What who said?”

“Your mom.”

What?
What is she talking about, my mom?

The hair on the back of my neck stands up. Somehow I know what she’s about to tell me is not going to be good. In a way I wish I could stop it, but I need to know and she needs to tell me.

“I’m not following you. Tell me what happened,” I say to her.

Leila sits up to look at me, the blanket falls around her waist, and I pause the movie.

“After I was released from the hospital, my parents took me back to Aunt Ella’s house. We ended up staying a few extra days because I had to go and see a pulmonologist for the smoke inhalation, and my father needed to settle things with the insurance company and the bank. I will never forget the coughing. My nose and mouth were caked with soot and I coughed for days. Every muscle was pulled, everything hurt, and I constantly had to use an inhaler. My throat hurt, my voice was hoarse, and the phlegm was awful. I waited for you to come and see me.”

She looks at me and her eyes show both sadness and regret.

“The day finally came when my parents were ready to leave and I snuck away because I had to see you one more time. I was so hurt and devastated that you didn’t come visit me, and I was heartbroken because I was leaving you. I will never forget walking up those steps to your front porch. If only I had known then how rapidly things were going to change.”

Standing on the front porch looking up at Beau’s house, I take a mental picture. Even though we didn’t spend a lot of time here, when I think about him, I want to remember all of the details of him.

Leaning forward, I knock on the door and wait. I’m so nervous that butterflies take off in my stomach. I’m confused as to why I’m nervous, it’s just Beau, and I’ve spent almost every day with him for the last six years.

The door finally opens and Mrs. Hale frowns. She takes one step toward me and pulls the door almost closed behind her. She doesn’t want me to see inside and the look on her face is one of annoyance. She’s frowning at me.

“Hi Mrs. Hale, is Beau home?” I ask her. She hears the hoarseness of my voice and her mean exterior falls for just a second and then slams back into place.

“No, he’s not.” She has always been so nice. I don’t understand why she’s being short with me and looks annoyed that I am here.

“Do you know when he will be home?”

“He’s not coming home anytime soon. He’s off on a fishing trip with Grant.”

My heart cracks and splits right down the middle. He never intended to say goodbye.

“Oh, well we are leaving today and I just wanted to say goodbye.” I look down at my hands and start twisting and pinching my fingers. I will not cry in front of her.

“I think he thought that you already left.” My heart starts pounding and squeezing in my chest, and as hard as I tried not to, the coughing starts. Bending over at the waist to clutch my ribcage, tears leak out, and she puts her hand on my shoulder. I can’t look at her.

“No, we had to stay a few extra days because of the fire.”

“Oh, that’s right. I think I did hear something about that. It’s a good thing you were already moving.” She sounds so cold.

“Will you please tell him I stopped by and that I’ll call him soon?”

“Now Leila, I want you to stop and think about this, do you really think it’s best to try and drag this out?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hasn’t he spent enough time with you? He’s fourteen-years-old. Don’t you think he should be spending more time with boys his age?”

A cold sweat breaks out across the back of my neck. “I’ve never kept him or prevented him from spending time with other people.”

“Yes, I know dear . . . but you know how Beau is. He’s a very responsible young man, and he’s always felt responsible for you.”

“It isn’t like that. He’s my friend.”

“That may be, but I want you to think about all the other girls in your school. How many of them have a friend who is a boy that watches over them like he does you? Maybe you moving is a good thing for both of you. You are at the age where you should be out shopping with girlfriends and he should be playing sports, or fishing with the guys. Think hard about this Leila, when Beau is not with you, where is he? Who is he with? What is he doing?”

It’s never occurred to me that I might be holding him back from doing something else, something that he might have rather of done than hang out with me.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am. If you want to leave your new phone number, I’m sure he’ll call you soon.”

“I don’t know what it is.”

“Oh, well . . . once you know what it is, you can always call here and I’ll give it to him.”

There is something about the way she says this that makes me believe she will never give him my phone number. A sudden panic fills me—this is it. He and I are over. I never saw this coming and I’m temporarily paralyzed from the pain.

Beau has always been the only friend that I have ever needed. When we weren’t together, I would lie on the beach and read books. Sure, I have other friends who are girls that I occasionally do things with but really I have always been happy with just having him. Thinking back over the years I realize she is right. When he’s not spending time with me, he is always out with Grant or Ryan. Was I causing him to divide his time? Was I making him have to choose?

“Okay.” An unwanted tear slips down my face. “Goodbye Mrs. Hale.”

“Goodbye Leila. Best of luck to you.”

Turning around, I walk down the stairs, and away from the home of the only other person in this world that I considered mine. Beau was my best friend, he was the other half to me, and although he didn’t know it . . . I loved him.

With tears streaming down my face, I look back at her one more time. There are tears in her eyes too and she rubs her hand across her chest. Noticing a small movement, I look up and see Matt sitting in his bedroom window. He’s watching me, and I find it odd that he looks so miserable and lonely. Lifting my hand, I give Mrs. Hale one more small wave. She doesn’t return it, but walks back inside, and closes the door.

Leila glances up, as she finishes telling me about that conversation with my mother. After reliving that moment, her eyes are damp, her shoulders are hunched over, and I can see the sadness pouring off of her—she isn’t making this up.

I don’t understand. Nothing is making any sense to me. I can absolutely see my dad saying this to her but why would my mother? She knew how close I was to Leila and what she meant to me.

The blood is thundering through my body and I can’t sit on the couch anymore. Jumping to my feet, I get up and start pacing.

“So, let me get this straight, knowing how much I hated my father, and knowing the problems I was constantly having with both my parents, you decided to take something that she said as the truth? Why? Why Leila?” I stop right in front of her and cross my arms over my chest.

“I don’t . . . I didn’t think she was lying.” Her eyes are locked onto mine and they are pleading for me to understand.

“You didn’t think she was lying?” There’s an edge to my voice and she watches me walk across the room to put some distance between us. Emotions are playing out across her face and the distance that is reflecting back at me through her eyes isn’t just a physical one but an emotional one too. Right in this moment, things between us are changing . . . I can feel it and so can she.

“Did you stop to think at all? What about me?” I point to my chest. “What about all of the things that I said to you over the years? Did you think I was lying? You knew me better than anyone!”

Leila narrows her eyes at me and gets up off the couch. She doesn’t like the way I’m talking to her and she stands just a little bit taller to let me know she doesn’t intend to back down. She’s still wearing only my T-shirt and a pair of underwear, and with her hair wild all over the place, I can’t help but notice how beautiful she is, even if I am pissed at her.

“Beau, she’s your mom. Why would I not believe what she was saying to me? I knew that you weren’t happy at home but you never discussed it with me. I was fourteen years old, and at the time, what she said made sense to me. You had been spending more time with Grant and Ryan, and I thought maybe I was becoming just a responsibility to you,” she says defensively, while mirroring my stance and crossing her arms over her chest.

“I was spending more time with Grant and Ryan for several reasons. One, I didn’t want to be at home. Bad shit was always happening at home. Two, we were both being forced to play more tennis. Grant wanted to be out fishing and I wanted to be with you. My mother knew that because I was constantly complaining.”

“I didn’t know that,” she snaps at me.

“You didn’t need to! I was with you every day and just about every night. That should have spoken volumes to you. If I had wanted to be somewhere else, with someone different, then I would have. You were never a responsibility or an obligation. You were mine and I thought I was yours.”

I see the last couple of words have a big impact on her. She lets out a sigh and the fire that was in her eyes switches to regret. She walks over to the window, looks down toward the street, and all of her beautiful wild curls fall down around her shoulders.

“You were . . . you are.” Her voice is remorseful. Pulling down on the edge of the T-shirt in an attempt to make it longer, she looks at her feet. “I just wish we could go back . . .”

“Leila . . .” She looks over at me. “I could never go back to the person that I once was. I have gone through so much and experienced so many things over the last couple of years that have ultimately changed me, there’s just no way. And honestly, I’m not even sure why you would want me to.”

She lets out a sigh and takes a couple of steps toward me. Her eyes are glistening with tears and along with my racing pulse, this makes my heart squeeze.

“Beau, please don’t let this break what we’ve put back together,” she whispers shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I want to be with you, I’ve always wanted to be with you.”

This is the first time that I can ever remember her saying that she wants me. It affects me so much that my heart stops racing and I’m shaking from head to toe. But, at the same time, my mind is completely wrapped around the fact that this just might break us. I’m so angry with her and at this entire situation. Why couldn’t she have just come to me? Yes, I understand that she thinks I was on a fishing trip, but I wasn’t. I was waiting for her in that damn hospital. If she had given me an opportunity to answer her letter, all of this could have been cleared up a long time ago.