Eight

        Where We Tell

        “Have you heard anything from your father?”

            Belle and I both look at my Grandpa, our forks hanging in the air between our mouths and breakfast plates. A piece of my egg falls but I don’t notice. My sister and I are both speechless.

            “Girls?”

            “N-no,” I mumble, setting down my fork. “Why? Have you heard anything?”

            “No,” he replies innocently. I let out a breath of relief and start to eat a piece of bacon unattractively. “Just was wondering. Seems a bit strange, don’t you think?” He gives Belle and I a questioning glance but both of us shrug, avoiding his eyes. “Maybe we should give him a call later?”

            “No, that’s fine,” I reply, trying to stop my voice from shaking. “I’ll give him a call tonight. Jacoby said he was going to be stopping by later today.”

            Belle’s face lights up. “What are you guys doing? Can I come?”

            Grandpa smirks and I roll my eyes. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him yet.”

            As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door. Before any of us can get up to answer it, we hear it swing open and there’s footsteps on the hardwood.

            “Hello, Mr. Greenwood,” Jacoby grins as he steps into the kitchen. “Belle, Stevie.”

            He’s wearing a long, black sleeved shirt and blue jeans. Despite the plain outfit, he looks like he’s modeling the clothes. What happened to my lanky, pale friend?

            “Speak of the devil,” I mutter, chewing on my bacon. Luckily, just in case he wanted to show up while I wasn’t ‘appearance ready,’ I got up and made sure to shower and get dressed earlier than usual.

            “Nice to see you, Jacoby. Would you like some breakfast?” Grandpa asks, gesturing towards the table.

            Jacoby shakes his head no. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Stevie and I have a busy day ahead of us and I wanted to start early.”

            I check the clock and look at him suspiciously. “So busy that we have to start at eight thirty in the morning?”

            “I wanted to come earlier,” he admits and my mouth falls open.

            “You’re insane.”

            Grandpa starts to tell me to be polite but Jacoby laughs. “So you’ve told me, more than a few times actually.” He gestures towards the front doors. “Shall we?”

            Slowly, I rise from my chair, watching him. He hasn’t said anything about what we’re going to do today, and I can already tell that whatever it is, I’m not going to like it. I grab a handful of bacon for the road and follow him to the door.

            “So what’s the plan?” I ask as we head towards the Camaro. As I stop beside the passenger door, he stares at my bacon. “What?” He folds his arms across his chest and stares at me impatiently. “Okay, okay,” I mutter before shoving all my strips of bacon in my mouth at the same time.

            “Well that was ladylike.”

            I shoot Jacoby a look before climbing in his car. Inside, he turns on the engine and hands me a plug. I stare down at it for a minute before realizing he wants me to plug my IPod in. “What do you want to listen to?”

            He turns around in his cheat and starts to back out of the driveway, only one hand on the steering wheel. The shadows from the tree’s lining the gravel flash over us like strobe lights.

            “Surprise me.”

            I put on my favorite Pierce the Veil song and Jacoby shakes his head as he puts the Camaro in drive. Again, he’s surprised and I can’t help but feel the same way about him every time I look him over.

            “Can you tell me what we’re doing now?” I ask impatiently, my fingers drumming along with the beat on my bare legs. “I thought we would be working on the Fastback or something.”

            “Do you ever just let things happen without questioning them?” He raises his eyebrows and I give him another look. “Well, I’m waiting for parts on the Mustang and I need to start doing my end of the deal.”

            My face falls. “No, no way.”

            I start to see where he’s planning on going and I start fidgeting with my seatbelt nervously. He notices but doesn’t comment on in, instead glancing at me continuously.

            “Stevie, you agreed and I don’t want to be unfair.”

            “I don’t care,” I practically snap, only not from anger but rather nerves. “Be unfair. Be oh so very unfair.”

            “Come on, it’s fine-“

            “No, Jacoby.” I tell him as he pulls off the dirt road onto the field with the bleachers. When Lark took me, it was dark out and looked so much different than in daylight. He stops the car and unbuckles his seatbelt but I don’t budge. “I am not getting out of this car.”

            Jacoby falls back in his seat, defeated. His hair falls in his closed eyes but he doesn’t seem to mind. His hands hang limp at his sides until he finally reaches for his keys in the ignition.

            “Are you sure?”

            He opens his right eye to look at me and I glare at him. Sighing, he turns off the Camaro and turns to me, studying me.

            “Why don’t we go sit outside? It’s starting to get hot in here.”

            I thought it was just me being nervous but shrug, happy to get as far away from the car as possible. Jacoby leads me to the bleachers and we sit halfway up them, staring out over the fields and makeshift racetrack.

            Beside me, he twirls his keys around in his fingers, not pressing for information. I concentrate on my breathing and close my eyes, trying to calm down. What happened was years ago; I don’t need to be having an anxiety attack right now, especially in front of Jacoby.

            “You okay, Stevie?”

            “Perfect,” I mumble, still not opening my eyes.

            “Then why are you crying?”

            Before I can register his words, I feel his thumb brush away a single tear from my cheek. I hadn’t even realized that I was upset. Slowly, I look at him and blink away the blurry tears in my vision.          

            “I’m not. I’m fine, really. It’s just-“

            “Stevie!!” I look around, searching for the voice of who’s calling me. “Stevie Greenwood! If you don’t come down here right now you’re going to wish you never came back!”

            I finally spot Lark running towards the bleachers from the road. Carson’s car is parked there and he’s watching us, his left arm hanging over the door. Lark stops at the bottom of the bleacher’s and puts her hands on her hips.

            “Here we go,” Jacoby mutters as I slowly rise to my feet.

            “I guess I better go down there, huh?”

            “Better to have her down there than up here where she can throw me off,” he replies. I don’t have time to ask him what he means as I start down the steps.

            “Stevie, what the heck are you doing here?” She yells as I near her. “I went to take you out for breakfast and your Grandpa said you went out with him.” She points a finger at Jacoby like he’s the devil.

            “I didn’t know you were coming,” I admit, avoiding her eyes. As soon as I do she gently grabs my chin and makes me look at her. Her lips frown when I meet her eyes.

            “Grey!” She calls, stalking towards the bleachers. “What did you do to make Stevie cry?”

            “I didn’t!” He replies honestly. He looks stressed, like he’s been studying for exams but knows he’s going to fail them anyways.

            “Grey, just leave Stevie alone. Why don’t you go back to your family and play house for a while?”

            “Lark!” Carson hisses from his car, knowing Lark just went too far. She looks at me, her eyes going from angry to concerned. Suddenly everyone is looking at me, waiting for some kind of reaction. More than anything I’m confused, and after a while everyone starts going back to normal.

            “Come on, Stevie. Let’s go. We’re going to have an awesome day.” Lark loops her arm through mine and starts tugging me towards her brother, but I don’t budge.

            “I was spending the day with Jacoby,” I whisper and Lark stops, moving in front of me. She places her hands on my shoulders and gives me a serious look.

            “See how Jacoby is just letting you leave without so much as an objection?” I turn around to see him still sitting on the bleachers, watching me but also looking bored. He hasn’t even budged. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Stevie.”

            I try to wrestle out of her grasp but she doesn’t let me. “I’m not going to get hurt, Lark.”

            “You’re right,” she responds, gesturing for her brother to come over. “Because I’m not going to let you.”

            Strong arms wrap around me and I’m abruptly being thrown over Carson’s shoulder. I feel absolutely ridiculous as he carries me towards his car and hold my shirt down over my shorts, hoping that no one can see my underwear.

©

            “I remember we used to do this when we were little,” I mumble, leaning back on the hood of Carson’s car. He’s leaning against the passenger door, smoking, while Lark lies beside me. We search the sky for shooting stars. “Except our dads would take us.”

            “I can’t believe how much things have changed,” she sighs. “When you left, everything flipped upside down.”

            “The same goes for me,” I whisper back, the conversation taking a turn I wasn’t expecting. The three of us had spent the day together. I had a second breakfast at the diner, unable to pass up buttermilk pancakes and then we went to the pond.

            “What happened, Stevie?” Lark asks quietly. “Why did you leave?”

            I hear Carson’s footsteps on the dirt road start to head away from us, knowing this is a private conversation. I take the gesture to heart. We’re in the middle of nowhere, parked beside a cornfield. He’s leaving us alone to walk by himself.

            I don’t know what to say to Lark. What can I tell her? How can I tell her? I’m living in this dream, pretending that nothing happened and everything is okay. Everybody thinks I left without saying goodbye because I didn’t care about them, but it wasn’t my fault.

            “I heard your mom got in an accident and can’t remember,” she says quietly. “Is it because of that?”

            “Yes,” I murmur, trying to count to stars to keep from crying. “My dad, he couldn’t stand to believe it. So he took Belle and I and just left on day.”

            “You didn’t say goodbye.” Lark’s voice sounds hoarse, like she’s trying not to cry.

            “I wasn’t allowed. He just took us, Lark. One day we woke up and he said we’re going.”

            I feel her hand find mine and I hold it tightly, remembering how close we were. She always felt like a sister to me, just like Belle is. When I left, I know I hurt her. I hurt myself, too.

            “I’m sorry,” she mumbles. Now I know for sure she’s crying. She uses her free hand to wipe her tears and turns to meet my eyes. “All these years, I thought you hated me. I hated you. I’m sorry, Stevie. I wasn’t really sick the last little while. I was just unsure of what to do.”

            I don’t know what to say so I tell her I’m sorry. She only knows part of the story; part of what I’m okay with telling. I don’t think I can tell her what happened after I left. In fact, I don’t think I can ever tell anyone.

            “I’m just glad that you know the truth,” I say honestly.

            “Listen, about Jacoby,” she replies, changing the subject. “There’s something you should know about him, something he’s not telling you.”

            “What is it?” I ask curiously.

            She slides off the car and turns to grab my hands. Once she’s pulled me off, she leads me towards the backseat of Carson’s car. “Maybe I better show you.”

            After she retrieves Carson, we start driving down the road. “Where are we going?”

            Lark watches me with sad eyes. They shine when the moonlight hits them as we drive but they don’t blink once.  “To Jacoby’s house.”