Out of Nowhere (28 page)

I let out the breath I was holding, waiting for the nausea or lightheadedness that usually accompanied this kind of comfort-zone departure. But they didn’t come, so I ripped the top off the Tupperware and began to eat. My heart was pounding and my palms felt a little sweaty, but I was here, alive in this spot, enjoying the lasagna that had been saved just for me. From this angle, it didn’t seem quite so daunting.

When I finished eating, I put the empty container on the floor next to me and dug my cell phone out of my pocket. It was still raining outside, so I knew Cole wasn’t at work.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” I said, surprised that he’d actually answered. “Uh, how are you?”

“I’m okay.” He sounded very unlike his usual self. We’d never really fought before, at least not seriously, so I was unprepared for the sadness in his voice. I hated that I’d put it there. “How are you?”

“Okay, I guess.”

A long silence followed. I ran my finger over a crack in the floor and thought about what I should say besides “I’m sorry.” For the past few days I’d been constructing speeches in my head, but now that I actually had him on the phone, I was drawing a complete blank. “I didn’t mean what I said,” I finally blurted out. “The other night. The whole ‘stupid’ thing. You’re not. I just said it because I was hurt.”

“I know,” he said. I heard a muffled bark on his end and pictured Ollie there with him, perched on his lap and probably licking the phone. “I didn’t say any of those things to hurt you. You know that, right? Maybe I could have handled things differently.”

“No, I—I’m glad we didn’t, you know, go inside. You were right, it wasn’t the right time. Not when I was like that.”

Another long pause stretched between us. I listened as Cole took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I didn’t mean that last thing I said, about us working better as friends. I don’t think that. I think we work great the other way too.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to let his sweet words absolve me from the total meltdown he’d witnessed that night. But I couldn’t, because they didn’t. I owed him more than that.

“Can I come over?” he asked.

I opened my eyes. Lucy was standing by her food dish and staring at me, faintly intrigued by the nutty girl sitting on the floor with tears on her cheeks. “Yes,” I said. “You don’t have to knock, okay? Just come right in. I’m sort of…in the middle of something here.”

A half hour later, I heard the door open and then his voice. “Riley?”

“I’m in the kitchen,” I called.

When he walked into the room and saw me there, in the very spot I’d flat-out refused to sit in with him just weeks before, his expression became concerned. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. I just felt like sitting here.”

This was a good enough explanation for him. He came over and sat down beside me, leaving a few inches between us. I was torn between running away and pouncing on top of him. It felt like ages since we’d last seen each other.

“What happened?” I asked, my gaze zeroing in on a large, painful-looking scrape on the outer side of his left calf. It looked pretty fresh. I longed to examine it up close, check for debris and blood-poisoning infection, but I held back. He could take care of himself. Like my mother told me, not everyone wanted to be saved.

“My bike tipped the other day,” he explained. “Hit a pothole.”

I nodded and furtively rubbed my forearms along the sides of my legs.

“Rash?” Cole asked.

I gave up on the covert scratching and nodded again. Then we looked at each other as the déjà vu hit us both at the same moment. We’d done this before, months ago, before we even knew each other’s names.

“I’m ready to tell you about my dad,” I said. “I mean, if you still want to hear about him.”

“Okay.”

I didn’t want to talk about the night he died. Not anymore. I wanted to tell him about my father, the person. The guy I knew. So I did. I talked about his kindness, his ability to convey so much in just a few words, his obsession with post-apocalyptic movies and books. I talked about the way he spoiled me when my mother wasn’t around, breaking out the stash of cookies she kept hidden in the cupboard above the fridge. I even told him about his pet name for me—Munchkin—the only nickname I never minded.

But I didn’t just stick to the good things about my dad. I talked about the bad things too, like how cranky he was in the morning, and how he drank a little too much, and how often he fought with my mom in the end—over money, or his drinking, or her parents, or something as dumb as who was supposed to take out the trash. Because his flaws were part of him too.

And throughout all this chatter, Cole helped me along, asking questions and smiling in all the right places. His encouragement made it easy, and by the time I was done talking my only concern about the floor beneath me was that my butt was numb from sitting on it for so long. I knew that from now on, whenever I looked there, I’d see only the faded linoleum, brown and beige and ugly. Obsolete.

“Thanks,” I said, my eyes finding Cole’s. “For listening.”

“Thanks for talking.” He arched his back, working out the kinks. “You know, I always thought you were brave, but I never realized how much. If I lost my dad…like, say my car accident hadn’t happened like it did and I was the one who was forced to sit there while he was possibly dying…I don’t think I could have handled that.”

“You always thought I was brave?” I said, surprised. This was news to me.
He
was the brave one, with his motorcycle and fast car and fifty-foot waves.

“Yeah. I mean, not in a fearless, daredevil way—”

“Like you,” I cut in.

“Like me,” he agreed, smiling. “No, you’re brave under pressure. When it counts. That’s why you’re going to make a good surgeon.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to this. It wasn’t the first time Cole used an unbefitting word to describe me. First
cute
and now
brave
.

“I’m not brave, Cole,” I said, reaching over to pet Lucy, who had settled by my leg at some point during my reminiscing. “Brave people don’t have to go to therapy once a week.”

There, I thought. Now everyone knew all my secrets. Full disclosure.

“Brave people face their problems instead of running away from them,” he said without skipping a beat. Nothing rattled this boy. “That’s what makes them so strong.”

We heard the sound of the front door opening then, followed by Tristan’s high-pitch jabbering. Damn, I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. I’d been sitting on that floor for almost three hours. Cole, Lucy, and I all stood up and stretched.

“Oh,” Mom said when we emerged from the kitchen. “Hi, guys.” She seemed surprised to see Cole, and not because she took issue with us being alone in the house anymore. I’d told her an edited version of our fight and she was aware that he’d been avoiding me all week.

“Co!” Tristan said, running over and wrapping himself around Cole’s leg.

The front door swung open again and Jeff appeared, carrying several shopping bags. “Oh,” he said in the same surprised tone that Mom had used. Apparently he’d been caught up on my boyfriend issues too.

“I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready,” Mom told me, and then added cheerfully, “Hey, guess what? It actually stopped raining!”

Obviously she could sense the unfinished business still lingering between Cole and me and wanted to give us some time—and privacy—to finish it. Jeff , taking Mom’s cue, leaned over to pry Tristan off of Cole’s leg.

“Come on, buddy,” he said, hefting him up into the air. “I need help making the salad.”

Cole and I slipped outside and sat side by side on the damp top step, the same place and position as Saturday night. Only now I felt significantly less psychotic, and instead of stifling heat it was cool outside, almost fall-like. Saturday seemed like a million years ago.

“I’m really glad you came over today,” I said, and then admonished myself for being such a coward. I may have made some progress in the kitchen earlier, but I wasn’t quite brave enough to ask the questions that burned in my throat. Why did he choose to come over today, after completely avoiding me all week? Was it because he’d missed me and wanted me back, or was it because he preferred to dump me face-to-face and in person? I needed to know, either way. I couldn’t take the suspense anymore. My skin was on fire.

But Cole said nothing. He just sat, leg jiggling and fingers drumming on the step, a ball of nervous energy like usual. I probably would have been more worried if he were motionless. As it was, my heart was pounding and my neck felt sweaty and no amount of Ativan or deep breathing or counting backwards was going to help me now.

“Just tell me,” I said, fighting the urge to place my hand on his leg to quiet it, like I did sometimes when the fidgeting got to be too much.

“Tell you what?” His usually bright eyes were dull and cautious. I did that, I thought.

“Why you finally answered your phone when I called today. Why you came over.”

He picked up a tiny stone and held it in his open palm. “I guess I just wanted to know something.”

I swallowed. “What?”

The stone disappeared into his palm and he pitched it across the yard. Both our gazes followed its path as it bounced off the walkway and made landfall in the grass. “I wanted to know if you see us together in the future. Or if you even want me there at all.”

I thought about that for a minute. The last time we’d sat here together, instead of bringing Cole closer like I’d wanted, I’d ended up pushing him away. Had I done it on purpose? Maybe I was just too weak to love someone like him, someone who understood the fragility of life but challenged it anyway. Maybe I really was meant to be with some safe, predictable guy, even if he never made my blood race.

“I want you there,” I said truthfully. “I’m just not sure you will be.”

“And if I’m not, whose fault will that be?”

“Mine. Just like Saturday night was my fault. I know. And I take full responsibility.” I pressed the heels of my palms into my forehead, trying to alleviate that damn headache that had been popping up unannounced for days. “Look, Cole…I’ve given you plenty of reasons to walk away and never speak to me again. I’m not exactly an easy person to be with. I know that too. Believe me, Adam made that perfectly clear when he dumped me. I
suck
as a girlfriend.” I stood up, my legs wobbling. “So, you can go now. You’re free.”

Before I could escape inside the house, Cole reached up and wrapped his fingers around my wrist. “Riley,” he said softly.

“What?” I was afraid to look at him, to let him see just how much his leaving would crush me. And how much his forgiveness meant to me. And how, since the first day he walked into Jitters, I’d been unable to picture a future without him in it. I needed to be stronger than that. Or at least appear to be.

“Sit back down. Please.” He let go of my wrist and took my hand, guiding me back down to the spot beside him. I didn’t resist. “First of all,” he said when I was seated again, “you can’t get rid of me that easily. And second, I’m not Adam. I think you should know that much by now. And third, I don’t think the blame is entirely yours. You felt rejected the other night, and that was
my
fault. But yeah, the way you dealt with it pissed me off and yeah, I even thought about breaking up with you because of it.”

I slid my hand out of his. “Is that what you’re here to do? Break up with me?”

“Well, that would be the next logical step if I didn’t…” He sighed and then got even antsier, if such a thing was possible. The whole porch felt like it was rattling along with him. “What I’m trying to say is…walking away and never speaking to you again would be a lot easier if I didn’t love you.”

Oh. Okay, so I hadn’t been expecting that. He loved me. I’d kind of known that already, but it was nice to hear. Until now, the only time I’d ever heard those words from a boy was when he was trying to talk me into something or make me feel guilty. But unlike Adam, Cole actually meant what he said.

“I love you, too,” I told him. “And I know Saturday night wasn’t the best timing, but if it
had
happened, I wouldn’t have regretted it.”

He hesitated for a second and then inched closer, wrapping his arms around me. I leaned into him, closing my eyes as his lips brushed against my forehead. The only movement in his body now was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in the scent of my hair.

“I see you in
my
future,” he said in my ear. “You’re wearing that black bikini.”

I smiled. “And what am I doing?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

We stayed there for a while, not talking. I kept my hand on his knee, wanting him close but not desperately close like the last time we sat here. Even if he disappeared right now, chances were good that he’d be back. And if the day ever came when he didn’t come back…well, I’d deal with it and move on.

“So it’s official, huh?” Cole said, and I knew without looking at his face that he was talking about the big sign in the front yard. Shawn the Realtor had stopped by on Tuesday to hammer it into the ground. When I got home from work and saw it there, I’d felt angry all over again. Then I’d cried a little. Now, I was getting kind of used to it.

“Yep,” I said, glancing at the cheerful red letters spelling out FOR SALE! “It’s official.”

“It must bother you to see that sign every day.”

I shrugged. “Nah. It’s just a sign.”

Behind us, the screen door creaked open and we turned to see my mother standing there, a basket of bread in one arm and Tristan in the other. Inside, Jeff was yelling something about his inability to locate the salad tongs.

“Dinner’s ready, kids,” Mom announced. She grinned at me and then at Cole. “Let’s eat.”

She backed into the house again, letting the screen door ease shut behind her. I looked at Cole to see what he thought about staying. He smiled and stood up, holding out his hand for me to take. I grabbed it and held on tight as he helped me to my feet. Then we went inside to have dinner with my family.

Acknowledgements