CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“ There’s no rush, Abby. We have the rest of the road trip, plus you don’t even have the nerve to tell me your true feelings yet.” He held a wicked gleam in his eyes. He was fishing for my feelings. A hot, way-out-of-my-league guy was all but begging for me to tell him what I thought of him. What a joke. Life could be so fucking funny sometimes.

So I started laughing and couldn’t stop. I laughed at his beautiful hazel eyes and brown hair. I laughed at the dimples that dotted the edges of his mouth, tugging at my heart in ways I could never have imagined before. I was laying there with crazy, rat hair in an oversized shirt and zero makeup. I had a scar the size of Montana on my chest while his chest was perfectly unmarred, tanned, and chiseled.

“ Beckham,” I started in a serious tone, “you are the strangest, hottest, funniest person I’ve ever met.” I paused to let my compliments sink in, and then I cupped my hands around my mouth.

“ I LIKE YOU!” I shouted so he’d know how I felt when he’d screamed the same words to me in the ocean. My voice ricocheted through the Camper, finding its mark when Beck’s smile spread twice as big.

“ Have you ever said that to someone before?” Beck asked with a quizzical brow.

I huffed and glared at him. “Don’t flatter yourself, bucko.”

He nodded but couldn’t wipe the grin off. “Who else?” He reached out and wrapped his hands around my hips, tugging me closer to him. Our breath mingled between our mouths.

I rolled my eyes. “Countless movie stars. Dozens of them. You are hardly special at all. I tell Orlando Bloom that I love him pretty much daily.”

Beck’s head dropped forward as he chuckled. “Fair enough.”

His hands snuck under my shirt, dragging across my skin and squeezing my hips. The move emboldened me and I leaned forward to kiss him. It felt like I lit a match. He pressed me down onto his lap and I rolled my hips, fighting the urge to just let him take me completely.

“ Are we going to have sex?” I asked once he lifted his head again.

“ Not tonight,” he answered, squeezing my hips.

“ Then I should probably put some underwear on,” I answered.

“ Probably so,” he relented, letting me go.

I shifted around him and started digging in my bag for a fresh pair and some shorts. The rain was still tapping on the roof, but it had lightened up since we arrived at the rest stop. Once I had all of my clothes back on, I grabbed a hooded sweatshirt out of my bag and picked up the black urn.

“ Want to spread some ashes with me?” I asked, cradling the urn in my arm.

Beck had pulled on a hooded jacket as well and was still wearing his dark jeans. We looked like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde, on the run from the world.

“ What’s in there?” he asked.

“ My dog, remember?” I answered swiftly. I feared he would ask again eventually, but I wanted to keep it private. He would make fun of me if I told him the truth.

“ I still don’t believe you. It’s not your old heart, is it?” His eyes were glued to the urn.

“ Ew! What? No, I don’t know what they did with my heart after the procedure. It’s in a biohazard bag somewhere probably.” The idea of spreading the ashes of my old heart was poetic, but mostly just plain disgusting.

Beck nodded with a hint of a frown. I think he secretly thought he’d been right about that this whole time.

“ Where do you want to spread them?” he asked, climbing into the front seat so he could exit on his side.

“ Just around the rest stop,” I answered.

“ That’s so gross, Abby,” Beck laughed.

“ Not where people will walk or anything!” I exclaimed, feeling defensive. “Maybe they have a garden or something.”

Surprisingly, the rest stop had no garden. I guess your tax dollars don’t allow for those sorts of things. Instead, Beck hummed the tune of that sad song they always play on dog adoption commercials as I dumped some ashes onto the grass behind the bathrooms. It stuck to the ground. The rain made it instantly soggy, like a gray soup. The whole time I tried to be somber, but in the end it didn’t work. Beck made me laugh all the way back to camper. It was impossible to be sad with him around.

While he unrolled our sleeping bags and made a little pallet for us to sleep on, I found my phone to check if I’d missed any calls from Caroline or my mom. The screen was black when I tried to swipe it open. Dead. I’d forgotten to charge it the night before and now any missed calls would have to wait for the morning.

“ Is your phone dead as well?” Beck asked from behind me.

“ Yeah. Stupid rain storm,” I huffed, tossing my phone back into my purse. “Can we eat our vending machine meal now?”

Beck winked. “Only the best for you.”

…

The next morning, Beck and I woke up late and ended up wandering into a diner to charge our phones and get some much-needed food. Crackers and cookies could only tide me over for so long.

Angie’s Southern Diner looked straight out of the 1950’s. The booths were covered in red and white striped upholstery. The tables had a red gloss coating. Elvis blared from the crackly speaker system and waitresses with tired expressions walked around in pink poodle skirts

“ This place is awesome,” I said, sliding into the booth seat. There was an outlet just beneath the table, so Beck and I both plugged in our phones so that they could charge while we ate.

“ Agreed, let’s open up a place like this back in Dallas.”

“ I’m in,” I answered, taking the menu from the waitress and offering her a quick ‘thanks’.

Beck ordered us two waters and then looked back toward me. “What would we call it?”

“ A and B’s Vending Machine Emporium,” I offered.

“ How about just: Abby Mae’s.”

I laughed. “We can’t serve any meat though.”

Beck’s eyes lit up. “Let’s replace all the meat with chocolate cake.”

Just then, the waitress came back and we had to scramble to decide what we wanted to order. I ended up ordering a salad that was “maybe organic” and Beck ordered a burger, fries, and chocolate milkshake.

“ That’s disgusting.” I scrunched my nose when the plate of heaping food was set in front of him.

I started picking at my salad with my fork. Suddenly, I was no longer satisfied with my heart healthy choice.

“ It might be terrible for me, but it is definitely not disgusting,” Beck clarified.

I rolled my eyes playfully.

“ How’s the salad?” he asked after swallowing a big bite of burger. I didn’t answer right away. I was distracted by his burger. It looked amazing. It had a meat patty, bacon, cheese, lettuce, onion, tomato, all shoved inside a buttery bun. The sounds Beck made as he chewed made me pierce my lettuce with a tad too much angst.

“ It’s great. Really… fresh ,” I answered without meeting his eye.

“ So you definitely don’t want a bite of this burger? I mean, of course you wouldn’t,” he teased before taking another big bite. I watched him chew with a look of pure ecstasy written across his face.

“ You’d hate it anyway. It’s cheesy and juicy. Definitely not your style,” he added, wiping his mouth while holding the burger with his other hand.

Before I thought better of it, I pushed off my seat and leaned across the booth to take a giant bite out of his burger. It hardly fit in my mouth, but I chewed with a big smile on my face anyway. Beck sat there stunned, his hazel eyes locked onto my mouth. My taste buds weren’t prepared for the flavor at first, but after another moment my mouth adjusted and I closed my eyes, appreciating the fatty amazingness.

“ When’s the last time you had meat?” Beck asked, continuing to stare at me with amazement.

“ Over twelve years ago,” I said with a full mouth, not caring how unladylike I was being.

“ Damn, that was hot.” A slow grin unwound across his lips.

I didn’t take any more bites of his burger. That first one hit my stomach with a thud and I knew that if I had any more, I’d be paying for it later. We paid and waited for our phones to charge up before heading back toward the Camper. The plan was to head to San Antonio next. They have a Riverwalk with tons of shops and restaurants you can stroll down. It would be the final stop before we headed toward Odessa.

We hopped in the Camper and were heading toward San Antonio when I turned my phone on. A cluster of ‘Missed Calls’ popped up onto the screen. Most of them were from my mom and dad, but then there were a few from Caroline’s mom as well. A dark, twisted feeling pierced my gut.

I pressed play on the first voice mail.

“ Abby, please call home as soon as possible. I have no clue where you are, but if you don’t respond soon we’re going to contact the police. I need to talk to you about Caroline, sweetie. Please call me back immediately.”

I didn’t even hesitate; I dialed home and pressed the phone so hard against my ear that it was cutting off circulation.

“ Abby!” My mom exclaimed. She picked up after the first ring.

“ Mom, I’m fin-”

“ Where have you been?” she yelled into the phone, cutting me off.

I pressed the tips of my fingers into my eyelids, trying to stay in control of my emotions.

“ I’ve been on a road trip, kind of. What’s wrong with Caroline?”

She breathed into the phone and I knew she was trying to pick her priorities. If Caroline was okay, she’d yell at me for leaving. If Caroline wasn’t okay, she’d worry about my punishment later.

“ Sweetie. You have to come home. Caroline was really sick. Last night they-”

I cut her off. “ Was really sick?”

“ Abby…” My mom tried to soothe me through the phone, but there was nothing she could say. My heart rate was picking up. My hands were shaking. I lost focus of my vision so that the world became a messy blur.

“ Is Caroline better now?” I asked with a hollow voice. My world caved in on itself like a collapsible tent. The sun seemed to shine too brightly, the air streamed too loudly out of the vents. Beck’s driving seemed slow, as if he didn’t realize that my world was slipping through my fingers with each passing second of this phone call.

Her silence said everything I needed to hear.

But finally she began. “No…Honey…Caroline passed aw-” she whispered, and I felt bile rise through to my throat.

“ I’m coming home. I’ll be there tonight,” I muttered, and then hung-up. My phone slipped out of my shaking hand and tumbled down to the floor of the camper.

Caroline.

Caroline died.

Caroline was no longer experiencing life.

She was no longer a person. She would never answer the phone if I called her. How can that be possible? They say you appreciate something more when it’s gone. That’s bullshit. I loved Caroline through every second of our friendship because we knew it was always terminal. We were never meant to be friends forever. When we first met, we both had timelines that weren’t even supposed to reach a new calendar year. Five years later, she was dead and my timeline was eternal in comparison.

“ Stop the car,” I demanded. We were on an empty stretch of highway with no other cars in sight. The sun was hanging high in the sky, heating the landscape and boiling my emotions even more.

Caroline lied to me. She told me she had eight months to live and she didn’t even have eight days. That selfless asshole. There was nothing but desert until the horizon met the sky. I had the black urn in my right hand. I left my shoes in the car and the sharp rocks were piercing the tender soles of my feet, but I didn’t care. I hoped I stepped on a million rocks. I hope they dug into my skin and drew blood.

Releasing a soul-crushing scream, I threw the urn as far as I could, watching it soar through the sky and then shatter into a million pieces once it collided with the ground. Wind picked up the dark grey ashes and spread them through the desert air. They moved organically, like a tiny tornado, but it wasn’t enough. I picked up rocks and threw them to where the urn had shattered. I reveled in the sound of rock hitting pottery. It dotted the landscape along with my angry sobs.

I felt guilt like a red hot iron branding my stomach. I’d left her in that hospital room so that I could go on a dumb road trip with a dumb guy who didn’t fucking matter.

“ You let me go!” I cried. “You TOLD ME TO GO!”

How dare she decide what was best for me. She didn’t want to show me her sickness? She wanted me to live? I’d fucking show her. I picked up rock after rock, stepping closer to the urn and chunking them as hard as I could.

“ YOU’RE A COWARD!” I screamed toward the desert sky. “I hate you! I HATE YOU!”

She told me to go on a road trip when I should have been with her. I should have been there to give her ice chips or for comedic relief. I would have done anything, truly anything, but she didn’t let me. She was being selfless, anyone would have agreed. But in that moment I had to believe she was actually being selfish or the guilt of last night would be too much to bear. She was dying and I was having my first orgasm. She was choking on her last breath and Beck was helping me spread ashes that weren’t even fucking ashes!

I heard rocks crunch beneath Beck’s weight behind me and I turned toward him. “You know what was in that urn?”

He just stood there, trying to gage my emotions as best as he could. It pissed me off that he wasn’t as angry as I was. His hands were shoved into his front pockets and his eyebrows were scrunched together in concern. There was pity etched across his features and I wished I could wipe it off and replace it with something else.

He never answered. “Well I’ll tell you anyway. I burned up old medical pamphlets, instructions for medications, preparations for the transplant, guides on how to prolong life with a debilitating heart condition. I burned everything up and shoved it in that urn because I wanted to be poetic and dramatic. I wanted to shed my old skin and move on from my old life. But you know what? While I was gallivanting around the country dumping burnt-up paper, my best friend was dying!”

“ Abby.” He moved to step closer to me, but his touch would have seared my guilty flesh. I didn’t want it.

“ I’m alive and she’s not. Caroline died because nothing in life is fair.” I looked up into his hazel eyes. They were staring back at me with such conviction. “She was a better person than me. When we first met, I wanted to ignore everyone in our support group, but she came over and sat next to me. She kept asking me questions and forcing me to answer. I thought she was weird and overly friendly. I made fun of her in my head. The nurses and doctors all loved her. Everyone who knew her fell in love with her.”

“ She didn’t deserve to die,” Beck answered for me.

“ I did,” I muttered toward the ground.

“ No one deserves to die over other people.”

I scoffed, thinking of all the serial killers that clearly deserved to die instead of good people every day. “Let’s go. I have to go home.”

I shoved past him and headed for the Camper. I wanted to be home. I needed to be home. I should have never left.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 394