Chapter Eight – Kyle

Long, slender fingers curve around my bedroom door and push it open slowly. I fight the twitch on my lips and close my eyes, pretending to be asleep, and count the soft steps on my carpet. One, two, three, four…

“Rah!” I yell, sitting up. My sister screams, jumping backward into my closet, and I laugh loudly.

“You asshole!” Iz cries, her hand against her chest.

“You should know better than to creep into my bedroom when you think I’m asleep.”

“What the hell was that scream?” Mom asks, rushing into my room. “Oh, Isabel! You’re home!”

“Five minutes and you’re already trying to kill each other,” Dad mutters, following behind Mom.

“I tried sneaking into his room,” Iz sighs.

Dad snorts. “You should know better than to sneak into his room, sweetheart.”

“That’s what I said.” I sit up in bed. “She’s nearly twenty. You’d think she would have learnt she can’t surprise me by now.”

“Alright, brat.” Iz grabs a notebook from my desk and throws it at me. “You win, as usual.”

“Was your flight early?” Mom rushes over to her and hugs her.

“Yep. Why else do you think I’m in Kyle’s room and not on the phone demanding he picks me up from the airport?” She grins.

“Alright, what is this? Family meeting in my room?” I look around.

Iz grins again and moves toward my bed. “Yep. How about a family hug?”

“Yeah… You don’t wanna do that,” I warn, holding my blanket around my waist tightly. I’m pretty certain she doesn’t want to see what is usually under my boxers.

“Right,” she demands. “Get up and get dressed. You can take me for breakfast.”

“I really haven’t missed your bossy ass,” I mutter as she follows our parents out of the room, but she hears and grins at me over her shoulder. “Shut the door!” I yell after her.

She laughs as she skips down the hallway, turning and flashing me that grin again at the top of the stairs. Damn, you’d think Iz was five, not nearly twenty. My feet tangle in my covers as I get up, still holding the sheet round my waist, and push my door shut. Fucking sisters.

I pull on some clothes and head downstairs. The hallway is crowded with Iz’s bags, and I’m pretty sure she’s got at least one extra one in the last six months. My eyebrow raises as I look at her questioningly, pointing a finger toward the suitcases.

“Shut up,” she grumbles, grabbing her jacket from the back of the sofa and opening the front door.

I smirk and slide my feet into my sneakers. I catch up with her halfway down the front path, and she’s flicking her hair over her shoulders so I poke her.

“You’re not in Miami anymore, Iz. No fancy surfers here to impress.”

“Oh, ha ha. You’re such a dick. It was stuck in my jacket.” She shoves me back. “I guess we’re headed to Myra’s?”

“Even though it’s not called Myra’s, yeah.” I stuff my hands in my pockets and shrug. “I can’t afford anything else. I’m a student.”

“So am I!”

“You have a job.”

“And you should get one.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about all the spare time I have at college.”

Iz frowns at me. “You don’t do anything besides college. I have college and I’m on the cheer team and I can still find time to work and party. Maybe being in a fraternity is frazzling your brain.”

“My brain is not--”

“Let me guess. You spend all your time drinking beer and eying up girls.”

“Hey...” I pause. “Maybe sometimes.”

Definitely since I’ve been home. Except girls is just girl.

“There we go then.”

The cafe is filled with the older generation of Verity Point grabbing their morning coffees, and Myra runs back and forth behind the counter, putting both normal and take out mugs in front of the customers. My sister and I make our way to a table in the corner until the queue has thinned, and she goes to order.

“No Roxy?” Iz looks around when she sits down.

I shrug one shoulder. “Can you see her?”

She hits me with the menu. “Alright, smartass. I just wanted to see her. Believe it or not, I’ve missed her cute little butt.”

Resisting the urge to laugh is harder than I thought. “There’s pretty much nothing cute left about Roxy.”

“I don’t believe it. I mean, I’ve been told the same things you were before we got back, about how she was coping, but I just... I don’t know, Ky. I can’t see it.”

“Yeah, well. I have seen it.” I tell her about the night at Selena’s and the way Roxy was with Tom.

“Well, shit,” Iz mutters and looks up, smiling at Myra with our breakfast in her hands. “Thanks, Myra. How are you?”

“Same as every day, Iz. It’s good to have you both back in town.” Myra puts the plates in front of us and squeezes her shoulder, turning back to the counter.

Iz watches her go. “I feel kinda shit that we’ve let them all deal with this alone. She looks so sad.”

“At least they had each other,” I mutter under my breath.

“Kyle,” she half-hisses. “I guess you’re right, but we made the decision to go away to school.”

“You had Si.”

“Oh wow. Excuse me while I recount all the times I cried on his shoulder.” She holds up a finger and pretends to think. “Oh that’s right. A big fat freaking none.”

“Whatever.” I shove some pancake in my mouth. “We’re back now. Maybe you can try to talk some sense into Roxy. We just end up arguing every time I try - it’s like trying to explain algebra to a one year old. Which, incidentally, would probably be fucking easier.”

Iz snorts. “If she’s really as bad as you say she is, then what she needs is a guy to tame her.”

I snort in return.

“No, I’m being serious. Ana - she’s on the cheer team - was like Roxy for our freshman and half of our sophomore year. Swear to God, Ky, she put the “ut” in slut. She got close to one of the junior guys on the football team and now she’s a changed girl. They’ve been together four months and they’re sickeningly cute.”

“I dunno. Maybe it’s just a phase.”

She leans in. “You’re not her parent making excuses for her,” she whispers, pointing her fork at me threateningly. “You and I both know if it was just a short-term solution she would have given it up by now. She isn’t stupid. She just needs to let herself grieve for Cam, because it doesn’t sound like she has.”

“Ask her and she’ll tell you her partying, for a nice word, is her way of grieving.”

Iz shakes her head. “No, it’s her way of coping with his death. She’s coping, but she’s not accepting or grieving. She needs to accept he’s never coming back before she can grieve for him.”

I blink at my sister for a moment. “Well. At least we know your college degree isn’t being wasted, Ms. Psychologist.”

“Go and fuck yourself, Kyle.”

I just grin. I’m actually glad she’s back - as annoying as she is, I love her, and I think we’re gonna need her brains for sorting out Roxy. Even if her major doesn’t help, she has a girl’s brain and that accounts for something.

I’m male. Females are an enigma who mean what they say but say the opposite of what they mean.

Wait.

See what I mean?

“You’re late!” Myra hisses across the near-empty cafe.

“I’m sorry!” Roxy hisses back. “I fell back to sleep.”

“Well that’s fabulous, Roxanne.”

“Hey! Dad knew I had to be here. He didn’t wake me up.”

“Don’t blame your father because you couldn’t get your lazy behind out of bed, my girl.”

“Whatever. I’m here now.”

Iz raises an eyebrow at me, and I nod. Say hello to the new Roxy.

“Don’t bother, Roxanne. I’ve already dealt with the rush by myself, and I can’t say I’m particularly in the mood for you this morning now.” Myra turns and storms into the kitchen.

Iz turns, resting her arm on the back of the chair, and looks at Roxy. “Well, aren’t you a joy to be around?”

“Iz?” Roxy’s head snaps up and the grin that breaks out on her face makes my lips twitch. “You’re back!”

“Of course I am. I mean, who wouldn’t leave Florida in the summer for this poky little town in the middle of nowhere?” My sister rolls her eyes and wraps her arms around Roxy.

“You love it here really.” Roxy sweeps her hair to one side. “Did you just get back this morning?”

“Yep. And that reminds me...” Iz turns to me, a hand on her hip. “Why didn’t you answer your cell last night?”

“I saw your post on Facebook. You know, the one where you told everyone you’d caught an earlier flight and couldn’t, and I quote, “wait to call your brat of a brother to come and pick you up at three a.m.,” and put my phone on silent.” I tilt my coffee cup toward her, smiling smugly.

“Bastard. I really should watch what I write on there.” She shakes her head and looks at Roxy. “What are you doing today?”

She shrugs. “Selena said something about the guys playing football later.” Her blue eyes flick to me, and I nod.

“‘Bout lunchtime.”

“Well we’ll go and we can catch up while they’re all busy,” Iz declares, sitting Roxy down on the chair between us. “Now help me eat this double portion of pancakes your mom always seems to give me.”

Roxy grabs a fork. “She thinks you need fattening up.”

I laugh.

“I’m a cheerleader. I’m supposed to be slim.” She replies and eyes the plate warily. “But these are really good, so who knows, I could be the first fat cheerleader in our team.” Her phone buzzes as she stabs at the pancakes.

Roxy laughs, and it’s one of the most genuine laughs I’ve heard her do since I got back. I smile, looking down at my plate, and when I glance back up she’s watching me. Her lips twitch, and she drops her eyes.

I wish she didn’t drop them.

There was a spark in them I’ve really missed seeing.

~

This feels wrong.

Its one thing to throw a ball around in my yard with Si and Ben, but this is something completely different. This is a whole game. Without Cam.

A team without a quarterback.

And none of us want to take that position. So we don’t. We skirt around it in both mini-teams, and the whole thing is a complete shambles because everyone knows you can’t play football without fucking quarterbacks. But we can’t play it without the main joker and prankster either. I could do it - I could play the jokes we used to but it isn’t right. I can’t do that without him; I don’t want to do it without him. We were always a team. CamandKyle. KyleandCam. It’s just how it was with everything.

I really do feel like I’m missing a part of me.

I put my hands on my knees, bending at the waist, and shake my head. “It’s no good, guys. We can’t play without a quarterback. We all know that.”

“It ain’t right to play him.” Mark shrugs. “All through school we played together, for fuck sake. I can’t step into that position any easier than you guys can.”

“He’s right,” Ben agrees slowly. “We’re just gonna have to get over it. We can’t play seriously anymore.”

I sigh and drop to the ground, the other guys doing the same. Si throws the ball over our heads, and it lands in the grass.

“So what do we do now?” he asks. “No football. No really fun way to pass this stupidly long summer.”

“We just fuck around.” I shrug. “Get the girls out here or something.”

Si snorts. “Right – Iz is usually cheering the game, not playing it, and Roxy and Selena wouldn’t want to mess their hair up or break a nail or some shit.”

“Do it for them. Then they have nothing to worry about.”

“Hey, where’s Roxy?” Ben looks over at the girls, and my eyes follow his. Selena is staring into the distance and Iz is lying on her stomach, her face in her arms.

“No idea,” I answer, getting up and heading in their direction. I nudge Iz with my foot. “Where’s—”

“She ran off five minutes ago with her phone attached to her ear,” comes her muffled reply. “She said she had to go somewhere, but really she can’t stand watching you guys play football.”

“Ran off,” Selena scoffs and turns her face to me. “She’s gone to meet Layla.”

“Layla?” Iz and I question in unison.

“She’s only been here a few months. She caused too much trouble at her last school so her parents packed her off to live with her Aunt for her senior year next year – that’s Judy, you know, at the florist?” We nod, and she continues, “Layla is how Roxy fuels her occasional drug use, and she has a cousin in Portland who gets her alcohol whenever she wants it.”

“Shit, Selena. Why didn’t you tell me?” Iz pushes herself up.

“Fuck telling you.” I look from my sister to Selena. “Why the hell didn’t you get me?”

“Because no one can stop her,” she says dryly, a hint of sadness creeping in. “I’ve tried so many times. When she really misses Cam, like really, she goes to Layla. Its how she forgets he’s gone. She drinks herself into next week.”

“What do you mean no one can stop her?” Iz demands.

“Exactly what I said. No one can stop her when she’s got her mind set on it. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

My jaw clenches. “Where will she be?”

“At Judy’s house, but you can’t-”

“Just you fucking watch me.” I spin on my heel and run around Si’s house.

Like hell will I let her put that crap into her body. I’m not naïve to believe she’ll find a way to do it without me finding out but this time she’s not. This time she needs to deal with how she feels and not run from it. This time I’m going to make her deal with it even if I have to sit on her until she talks.

Verity Point is so damn small it only takes me two minutes to catch up to Roxy outside Judy’s house on the edge of the woods.

“Kyle?” she looks up at me, surprise all over her face.

“Have you been in there?” I nod toward the house.

“I have no idea what you’re on about.” She shifts uncomfortably.

“Don’t bullshit me, Roxanne.”

Her eyes narrow at my use of her full name. “Don’t—”

“Have you been in the goddamn house?!”

She says nothing, instead turning and stalking into the woods. I rub my hand across my eyes and follow her.

“Roxy.”

“Fuck off, Kyle.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a mind your own fucking business!”

I grab her arm and swing her round so she faces me. “You are my damn business. You always have been. You’re more my business than you realize.”

Blue eyes widen ever so slightly, and questions shine in them as she looks up at me. I hold her gaze without faltering, wanting her to understand something I don’t even understand myself, and tighten my grip on her arm.

“Did you go in?” I ask her again, my voice softer this time.

Roxy breathes in deeply, holding it for a second, and slips her hand into her jacket pocket. I release her arm as she pulls out a small vodka bottle, and I hold out my hand. She pauses, closing her eyes as she puts it in my palm. I curl my fingers around her hand, letting them brush across hers as I take it from her. My fingers unscrew the cap and tip the bottle upside down.

The vodka splashes onto the ground, and when she opens her eyes, I rub it into the mud with my foot. I hand her the empty bottle when her eyes meet mine.

“You enjoyed that didn’t you?” she asks, snatching it with venom in her tone.

“Not entirely. Did I enjoy emptying that crap onto the floor? Yep. Did I enjoy taking it from you? No. I fucking hated it,” I tell her honestly.

“Right. And I’m supposed to believe that.”

“I hated taking it from you because I know it makes it easier for you. It’s just the wrong thing you’re using – I think of you using that and I wonder what the hell Cam would think of you. His beloved baby sister using alcohol to forget and get herself in any number of fucked up situations.”

“You always have to bring him up, don’t you? Maybe I don’t use it for that. Maybe I use it because I like it.”

“I call bullshit on that and every other excuse you have for it. You only “like” it because it lets you forget.”

“And I think I’m allowed to forget, don’t you?” She raises her eyebrows and walks further into the trees.

“Yep. Shit, Rox, you were there when he crashed--”

“And the rest.” She stops in front of a large tree, the bottle dropping from her grip. She presses her hands against the trunk, tilting her head down and to the side. “And the goddamn, nightmare-inducing rest that haunts me every fucking time I close my eyes.”

Her voice is tiny yet it holds so much power and heartbreak. I feel each crack spreading in her heart with each word, and it makes my own ache. It makes every part of my body ache for her, for what she’s feeling and the urge to soothe it. My feet ache to walk to her the way my arms ache to hold her close.

“Talk to me,” I say into the gentle breeze rustling the leaves above us. “Don’t use alcohol to forget, Rox. Use me to remember.”

“What good will that do?”

I give into the ache in my legs and crunch twigs under my feet as I walk to her. I stop just behind her and push her hair from her face.

“I don’t know, but at least you won’t be hurting alone anymore.”

Her eyes are fixed on one spot on the ground, and I’m almost glad I can’t see them. “It wasn’t just the crash. It was everything. Everything about the night, I saw it all. Selena called the ambulance, and I stayed by the crushed car watching my brother die and begging him not to leave me. I watched them revive him at the scene and bundle him into the ambulance. Then in the hospital I watched them try and fail to bring him back to life for a second time. The whole time I was begging him not to leave me, not to die. I bargained and I bartered with an invisible entity to save him, to not let him go. And I was alone the whole time. He died before Mom and Dad got to the hospital. His last moments were mine. Just mine. That night was so much more than watching the crash. Do you get that now? It was so much fucking more! I watched my brother die – die! – right in front of me, and there wasn’t a single freaking thing I could do about it!”

Tears stream from her eyes and streak mascara down her cheeks. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her into me, holding her tightly against my chest. Her silent tears turn into body-shaking sobs as she grips my shirt at my back and her knees give way.

As I thread my hand into her hair and turn her face into my neck, it feels as if everything stops. Nature stills as she cries for what I’m guessing is the first real time since he died, her noises of heartbreak the only sounds around us. The only thing I know is her trembling body tucked into my arms and the tears soaking into my shirt, the cries from her mouth and the tightness of her fingers as they hold onto me.

And I understand why she does what she does. She holds so much pain, so much guilt and so much anguish in her tiny little body it’s a wonder she hasn’t broken by now. But there’s nothing I can do.

Nothing except hold her. So that’s what I do.

I hold her to me and sit down with my back against the tree she was just leaning against. Her knees go either side of my hips and she nestles into me, never letting go as the tears keep falling. I bury my face in her hair, feeling my own tears in the back of my eyes for the loss of the person we both loved.

Because I did. I loved Cam as more than just my friend. I loved him as my brother, my go-to guy, my partner in crime. If guys could have guy soul mates, he was mine. I know my own pain and I feel it every day. I feel it everywhere, but what I feel is nothing compared to what Roxy feels.

And this is what she needs. She needs to remember and cry and hold onto someone who’ll never let her hurt without hurting too.

She releases my shirt and wraps her arms around my neck, hiding her face in the crook between my neck and shoulder. My own arm goes tighter around her waist and pulls her closer to me.

The closer she is to me and the longer I hold her, the longer I hold her trembling, sobbing body to me, the more a part of me begins to accept the fact there’s so much more than just Cam between us.