The List (23 page)

It was probably one of the last pictures taken of her.

Adam placed the picture gently on the floor, then leaned back on his elbows, staring at the ceiling. “So, what are you going to do about Ryan?”

I sighed and leaned back. “There's nothing I can do. He's not going to change his mind, Adam. What he went through with his mom—” I shook my head and let out a deep breath. “He's too afraid of losing Chris. And I get it, I really do. I can't imagine the kind of pain he's been through.” My throat tightened and I squeezed my eyes shut. That wasn't completely true. I'd grown up seeing that kind of pain every time I looked at my dad.

“You love him,” Adam said.

My eyes flew open and I sat up. Adam stared at the ceiling. I'd never thought of my brother as being the sensitive type, and hearing him say the very words I'd avoided even
thinking
was a huge shock.

“No,” I whispered.

Adam pressed his lips together and sat up. When his eyes met mine, he actually smiled. “Sure, whatever you say. But if my opinion counts for anything, I think you shouldn't give up so easily. He obviously cares about you too.”

I
barely saw my dad the next few days. He came out to eat, occasionally joining my brothers in the living room to watch TV, but he did his best to avoid me. Whenever he found himself in my presence, he didn't look at me. It was as if seeing me would make the whole thing real. The changes in my life, the fact that I was pulling away from him and making my own decisions. My mom's death.

It wasn't new behavior. My dad had gone through times like this over the years, especially around the anniversary of my mom's death, but it hurt more this time because I knew it was my fault. As much as I wanted to live my own life for a change, I hated that I was hurting him like that.

On Christmas Eve, the twins headed off to their part-time jobs, and Adam and I were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee when Dad came out of his room. I froze with the mug halfway to my mouth, and Adam almost choked on his frozen waffle.

Dad gave Adam a smile—a Dad smile, which was only half a smile by anyone else's standards—and poured himself some coffee in one of the biggest mugs imaginable. “Thought we'd watch the Steelers game this afternoon. What d'you say?”

Adam nodded and Dad took a sip of his coffee, and I sat there squirming in my chair while I waited for my father to acknowledge my existence.

It never happened. He nodded and headed out of the kitchen, slapping my brother on the shoulder when he walked by, doing his best not to look in my direction.

My already fragile heart cracked a little more and my eyes filled with tears.

“He'll come around,” Adam said, putting his hand on mine. “I'll talk to him.”

I nodded because there was no way I'd be able to get a word out of my tight throat.

My dad and Adam spent the rest of the day on the couch while I prepared our usual Christmas Eve feast. Then the twins got home from work and the house shook with masculine energy, threatening to crush me.

My chest was tight and for the first time in my entire life I craved a feminine presence. There wasn't anyone more feminine than Cami.

She picked up on the first ring, and the background noise left no doubt that she was in full Christmas mode. “Annie! I'm so glad you called. How's California?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned against the refrigerator. My heart was pounding and I knew I needed to say something. All I could focus on were the voices in the background. Which one was Ryan?

“Annie? Annie, are you there?”

I swallowed and nodded even though it was a pointless gesture—she couldn't see it. “I'm here. It sounds like you're having a party.”

Cami giggled. “It's just a bunch of my parents' friends. Ryan and I are the youngest people here.”

My heart constricted at the mention of his name, and for a few seconds I couldn't catch my breath. Cami didn't miss a beat, though. She started chattering about her plans for New Year's and how she'd snuck a few glasses of champagne. All I could think about was Ryan. About his lips on mine and how my body shuddered around him. I couldn't catch my breath, let alone talk, so when Cami started calling Ryan's name, I didn't have the voice to tell her to stop.

“Talk to Annie!” Cami said.

A male voice protested, then Cami's muted voice said something I could barely make out. It sounded like she told him I sounded sad. Tears stung at the back of my closed eyes, and I bit down on my lower lip when it started to tremble.

Ryan's voice was clear as day when he said, “She's sad?”

I pressed my palm to my mouth to muffle the sobs. Then he was there on the other end of the line and I thought for sure my heart was going to stop beating.

“Buttercup? Are you okay?”

I couldn't talk. I could barely get enough air in my lungs to breathe. My head shook on its own and I wiped the tears off my cheeks while my shoulders trembled.

“Buttercup?” Ryan's voice quivered, like he was trying to hold in the panic. I knew I needed to answer him.

I sucked in a big gulp of air and forced my body to relax enough to say, “I'm here.”

“You don't sound okay. What's wrong?”

The background noise faded and I heard a door shut. I imagined him out on the back porch, looking out over the Ashley River. Something inside me jumped. Like there was actually a shred of hope still buried deep inside me, desperately fighting to get out.

“Things are just . . . hard.”

Ryan sighed. “With your dad?”

My shoulders shook harder and I felt like my body was going to collapse, fold in on itself, shrivel up and cease to exist. It was at that moment that it hit me—I'd marked number twenty off my list. My heart was broken. Shattered, obliterated, unfixable unless Ryan was at my side.

“I can't—” I gasped and sucked in a mouthful of air. Why was I torturing myself? All I'd wanted was to talk to Cami. I didn't want this. Talking to Ryan was indescribable torture.

My thumb swiped across the screen to end the call, then flicked the ringer off. I doubted Cami would even think about calling me back—she was probably too drunk—but I knew Ryan would. I didn't know if I'd have the strength to ignore his calls.

When I walked through the living room, all four men looked up. Even my dad. I ignored their questioning looks and went outside, right into the blustery northern California night. The wind was bitterly cold, like the sharp tongue of an old maid who wanted to punish the world for her loneliness. It made me shiver, sending a tremor through my entire body.

My arms were crossed over my chest to block out the wind when my dad found me, and I turned when he walked out. He still wouldn't look directly at me, and the expression on his face was so grim you'd think he was headed to a funeral.

“Annie,” he said, focusing on the house across the street.

I swallowed, but it didn't help relieve the tightness in my throat or make it any easier to talk. “Daddy.”

He pressed his lips together and it reminded me so much of Alex. “I didn't think you'd do this to me.”

I flinched, but of course he didn't see it. “What have I done? I haven't gotten into any trouble or gotten hurt. All I did was take some time for
me
. That's something you've never let me have, Daddy. I'm nineteen years old. I deserve more than you've given me.”

He shook his head and narrowed his eyes like he was trying to look into the past. Maybe he was. Maybe he was trying to figure out where everything had gone wrong or what he possibly could have done to make it all turn out differently. It was pointless. He'd spent too much time focusing on the past as it was. He needed to focus on the present—the future.

I dropped my arms and took a step closer. “Look at me.”

He exhaled before sucking in another deep breath, then turned toward me. When his brown eyes landed on my face, the pain in them made me want to cry.

“This is who I am, Daddy. Me. Annie. I'm not Mom. What happened to her . . .” He flinched and took a step back, but I grabbed his arm before he could lock himself in his room again. “That isn't going to happen to me. The way you sheltered me wasn't fair. Not to me, not to the boys, and not to you. It wasn't what she would have wanted. You're living your life waiting for another catastrophe to happen instead of enjoying what you have left. Five kids that love you so much we were willing to let you have your way our whole childhoods. None of us rebelled. None of us screamed and told you we hated you. We did what you said and lived the way you wanted. Now I'm an adult, I can't do it anymore. I need to live for me.”

His lower lip trembled. When his eyes filled with tears, a tremor shook my body. I squeezed his arm tighter because I was so afraid he was going to run away. I'd spent my whole life afraid to tell my dad how I really felt because there was so little of him left as it was, I didn't want to lose any more. But I couldn't go on living in the shadow of my mom. I doubted he would change, doubted he would really be able to deal with me living my own life, but I couldn't go back to the way things were. Not after really experiencing life for the first time.

“This is Alex's doing,” he finally said. “I knew you'd change when you went to see him. I knew he'd turn you against me.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath before focusing on his face again. “Alex didn't do this. I made these choices on my own. They were the first ones I ever got to make. I've made a few mistakes and been through some pain. I've learned lessons the hard way and shed a few tears. But I'm
glad
. Don't you understand? All those things are part of having a life, and that's all I ever really wanted. It's what you
should
have wanted for me.”

My dad didn't move. He didn't pull his arm out of my grasp and he didn't look away. It was like he was frozen, trying to decide what direction to take. Something sparked inside me, a little flame of hope that burned no matter how much I knew it was going to hurt when he snuffed it out.

When he exhaled, his entire body sagged, like he was a balloon and someone had let all the air leak out. His arm slipped from my grasp. He stumbled back a few steps until his hip rested against the railing.

“I can't forget her,” he said. The words shook right along with his body. He lowered his head and my eyes filled with tears. He looked so lost. Like a little boy who had been separated from his parents in the middle of a carnival.

“Daddy,” I said, walking forward.

He didn't stop me when I wrapped my arms around him, and he didn't pull away. His body shuddered, and the sobs pierced my soul. There was a time when I would have given anything to keep this pain from him. But not anymore.

After a few minutes I pulled back and wiped the tears off my cheeks. “You need help, Daddy. Help I can't give you. I love you and I promise I'll never cut you out the way Alex has, but I can't go on like this. Not anymore.”

I walked back into the house before he could say a word. It was then that I saw the voice mail from Ryan. My hands shook when I charged up the stairs to my bedroom. I locked the door behind me and sank to the floor, resting my back against the door while I pressed PLAY.

Ryan's voice came across loud and clear, and it made everything in me scream in agony. “Buttercup . . . I'm so sorry. I didn't want things to be like this, I swear. I wish I could go back and change what happened so you weren't hurting, but there's nothing I can do. I'm going to do my best to keep my distance when you get back. I don't want to keep hurting you. I hope things with your dad aren't too awful. Merry Christmas.”

The message cut out, but it was too late. His words had already done the damage. I was bleeding on the inside.

W
hen I got back to school, Ryan kept his promise. He lent his car to Cami so she could meet me at the airport, and spent the next week making excuses to his cousin about why he couldn't meet us for lunch or go out to a bar on the weekend.

Cami took the opportunity to go a little crazy. She and Liam were on the outs—something she brushed aside whenever I asked her about it—and Ryan's absence meant she could flirt with more guys and drink twice as much. Her dresses got shorter and the nights out got longer, and by the last weekend in January I was dragging from trailing around after her.

My heart just wasn't in it. Not after the way I'd left things with my dad and not with the way Ryan was avoiding me. I went for a run every day, hoping to see him, but we never crossed paths. There was an emptiness inside me that ached, and I knew without a doubt Adam had been right. I was in love with Ryan.

I didn't see Ryan again until February tenth.

From the moment I opened my eyes that morning I was tense. It was the one day of the year we'd come to dread in my family. The day my dad locked himself in his room, sometimes crying, sometimes drinking. Sometimes nothing. We never really knew how he'd react.

It was the first year I wasn't home to witness his total shutdown. While I'd thought it would make the day easier, for some reason it didn't. Not knowing what was happening had me anxious. I could barely hold a conversation and I didn't hear a thing my professors said. Every text I got from my brothers told me Dad was hanging in there—this year he'd chosen to lock himself in the bedroom with his wedding album. It had been a few years since he'd pulled that one. But no matter how many texts the twins sent me, I just couldn't calm down.

I made it through my morning classes, but by lunchtime I couldn't sit still. My dad had texted me three times and the tone was frantic. He actually mentioned her by name—he never did that. There was something about this year that seemed worse than the last few, and the ball of guilt in my stomach told me it was my fault. My trip home had triggered something in him, and even though we'd spent Christmas with fake smiles plastered on our faces and New Year's pretending I was okay sitting at home on the couch, I'd broken down some kind of wall in my dad he might not ever be able to rebuild. It terrified me, wondering what might come out.

Austin and Aiden were with him and they were good about sending me updates, but it didn't help me feel any less panicked. There was only one thing that would help me relax when I was wound that tight.

Skipping my last class, I changed into my running clothes and took off toward the bay. The day was cold and the salty air stung my eyes, making the tip of my nose numb, but it gave me something to focus on. My head began to clear and the ball in my stomach didn't feel quite as heavy, and after only two blocks most of the tension began to roll off my body. By the time I got to the Cooper River I was wishing I'd skipped my earlier classes too. The run was exactly what I needed.

I was panting when I reached the pineapple fountain. The cold air on my damp skin made me shiver, but I was sweating. It was the odd mixture of hot and cold that I loved after a winter run, and I wasn't even the least bit ready to go back. So I spent a little time roaming the streets of downtown. There was something so relaxing about the city, the brick streets and cobblestone sidewalks, the historic homes that were perfectly preserved in their southern splendor. It was like going back in time.

I was in love with the city, and I knew that even if things with Ryan never worked themselves out, I wanted to stay. There's no way I could go back to California, and we'd moved too much during my childhood to ever really think of one place as home. My only fond memories were of Charleston, and the last few months had only added to them. Even the broken heart that barely beat in my chest made the city shine brighter. Maybe things didn't turn out exactly the way I'd hoped, but I did learn to really live and love in Charleston. I couldn't turn my back on that, no matter how much it had ended up hurting me.

A little after four I headed back the way I'd come, taking my time. My sour mood had disappeared and some of the optimism I'd first felt when I came to Charleston was back. The future was bright, even if I couldn't see it at that moment, and I was sure that all I needed was to weather the storm a little bit longer to make it where I wanted to go.

I just hoped the storm didn't toss me around too much before I got there.

I was just passing the pineapple fountain when a familiar laugh made me freeze in my tracks and curse all my foolish optimism. No one else in the history of the world had a laugh like that. Masculine and carefree, yet slightly reserved, like he was afraid to share too much of himself.

I scanned the area until I spotted him. He was on a bench not too far from the fountain, smiling at the girl next to him. Jess had a Starbucks cup clutched in her hand and her cheeks were red from the cold. She looked breathtaking. No wonder he couldn't take his eyes off her.

My body turned into a block of ice. I wanted to run before he saw me, but of course I couldn't. Or maybe that's just what I told myself. It's possible I was slightly masochistic, because when his eyes met mine, I didn't have a problem taking a step closer.

Ryan's smile faded and Jess looked my way. She waved and my hand lifted on its own, returning the gesture. She said something to Ryan and he shook his head, and before I could get my body to cooperate, he was headed my way. Thankfully, Jess stayed on the bench.

Ryan stopped in front of me and ran his hand through his blond hair. He glanced back at Jess for a brief second before focusing all his attention on me. His gray eyes were so intense, it was like he had x-ray vision. I felt naked under his gaze.

“How are you, Annie?”

Annie. There it was again. Why did it feel like someone had punched me whenever he said my name?

I shook my head and my eyes filled with tears. “Don't.”

He frowned even more. “Don't what?”

I crossed my arms over my chest like that would protect me from his gaze. “I hate it when you call me Annie. It feels like we're strangers.”

The corner of his mouth turned up and he reached out, taking a few strands of my hair between his fingers and flicking them aside. “You'll always be my buttercup. You know that, right?”

My throat tightened even more, but I couldn't look at him. Somehow those words made the pain more intense. Like it was confirmation we'd always be this thing that almost happened. It killed me just a little.

I bit my lip and looked past him to where Jess was sitting. She was looking at her phone, completely unconcerned that he was standing there talking to me. It didn't matter to her because she was secure in their relationship. She knew I meant nothing to Ryan.

Why couldn't I accept the same thing?

“I have to go,” I blurted out, taking a few steps back.

When I bumped into a person behind me, I couldn't even focus enough to see who it was or if I'd knocked them down. I just turned and ran, like my life depended on it, like I was being chased by a pack of hungry dogs. All I could think about was getting away from Ryan.

My calves ached by the time I made it back to the dorm, and I was dripping in sweat. I threw the door open and dragged myself inside, and Cami froze in the middle of a primping session. She scrunched up her nose and the look on her face made me want to throw something—preferably at her.

I whipped off my sweaty shirt and tossed it on the floor while I headed to the bathroom, and before Cami could say anything, I had the door shut behind me. My legs trembled, but I knew it wasn't from the run back because my hands were shaking too.

The bathroom felt like it was the size of a matchbox, and the thought of sitting in the room all night made me feel like I was drowning. My chest was tight and my lungs burned. I tried to ease the pain in my chest by pulling off my sports bra, but it didn't seem to help.

I needed to get out.

 

Cami and I were at the bar by nine, and by ten the ache in my chest had been sufficiently dulled with alcohol. Cami was in good form. She'd found us a couple suitors within minutes and they were more than eager to provide us with drinks.

I did my best to keep up with her flirting, but I hadn't heard from my brothers in a few hours and the silence was almost worse than the constant updates on my dad. Even with the room spinning, I couldn't stop myself from checking my phone.

“You waiting for a call?” asked the guy—I couldn't remember his name—who was supposed to be mine.

He grinned and his green eyes twinkled when he leaned closer. His dark hair was a little on the long side, but his smile was charming. Too bad there wasn't a single thing about him I was actually attracted to. Not after seeing Ryan earlier.

But I could fake it.

I shoved my phone in my purse and plastered a smile on my face that felt so fake I was sure he'd see right through it, but his grin got bigger. Guess I was a better actor than I thought.

“Just family stuff.” I felt like I was yelling, but he barely reacted. It must not have been too loud.

He ran his fingers down my arm and I fought the urge to push his hand away. “Something you need help forgetting?”

I gulped down the rest of my drink and he smiled bigger. Cami and her
friend
were on the other side of him, and she threw her head back and laughed just as I set my glass down. The sound was fuzzy and loud at the same time, and when I shook my head, it felt like it was full of helium.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I yelled over the noise.

His mouth turned down a little on one side and he nodded. I tried to catch Cami's eye, but she was too busy chatting. It didn't matter. I could make it to the bathroom by myself.

A crazy tropical shirt caught my eye as I pushed my way through the crowd, and it made me think of my first night out. Of the drunk guy who put his arm around me, and the way Ryan had come to my rescue.

My stomach lurched, but I managed to swallow back the nausea. A couple sips of water from the bathroom sink helped even more, and after a few minutes I felt confident I wasn't going to throw up all the drinks what's-his-name had bought me.

I did my best to clean up, wiping away the mascara smeared under my eyes and smoothing down my hair, but when I looked at my reflection, I still looked wild. The black dress washed me out and my eyes were so pale under the fluorescent lights, they almost looked yellow.

There was nothing I could do about that, though.

The first thing I saw when I stepped out of the bathroom was Cami and her guy, followed by the absence of mine. I spotted him on the other side of the bar, chatting with a redhead. He must have gotten tired of waiting—not that I cared.

I was heading back to Cami when I nearly bumped into Chris. Where the hell had he come from?

He frowned and his brown eyes swept over me while he took a swig from his beer. His expression was hard, and I could feel the pain radiating from him. I swayed a little. I expected him to turn away, but he caught my arm before I could fall.

“You okay, Annie?” I nodded and he frowned. “Where's Cami?”

Liam popped up next to Chris just as I pointed to my roommate. Chris shook his head and Liam's face got red and his jaw tight, like he was ready to run over there and beat the shit out of the guy Cami was with. He probably was. I didn't have a clue what was going on between the two of them, but it was clear Liam liked her.

But he didn't go after the guy and he didn't make a scene. He headed to the opposite side of the bar and started chatting with a group of girls dressed like they were on their way to the Playboy mansion.

“You okay?” Chris asked again.

“Yeah,” I said, turning back to face him.

His expression was pained, like it hurt just to be near me. Maybe it did. That's how I'd felt earlier when I talked to Ryan. Like I was going to break into pieces if I didn't get away. For the first time, I ached for what Chris was going through. It made things that much worse because I was to blame.

“Chris, I—”

He took a step back and jerked like I'd slapped him, but I didn't want him to go before I'd had a chance to tell him I was sorry. “Wait. Let me just get this out.”

He didn't leave, but he wouldn't look at me. He took another sip of his beer and nodded slowly.

“I'm sorry.” I took a deep breath. “This is all new to me and I didn't know what I was doing. I was just out trying to have a good time and it never occurred to me that you might get hurt in the process. I liked you, but when it came down to it, that wasn't enough.”

He slowly lifted his eyes to meet mine. “Because of this other guy?”

I swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Doesn't matter now. It didn't work out. Not the way I'd hoped it would, anyway.”

Chris looked away. “Thanks for saying that, I guess.”

He walked away and by the time he joined Liam, he was smiling, but I knew him well enough to know it was fake. And I knew the feeling—I'd spent my whole life pretending the smile on my face was real.

When I got back to Cami, she was already planning her exit. It was nearing one a.m., but apparently she wasn't ready to call it quits.

“Let's go dancing,” she said, jumping up and throwing her arms around my waist.

She was either too drunk or too distracted to notice I wasn't smiling, but I wasn't about to ruin her night. The last thing I needed was a bunch of questions from her.

“I'm not feeling good,” I said. “I think I'm going to head home.”