Chapter 9
“So, this is where you’ve been hiding,” Mic says, coming into Trade’s shop. Only Trade isn’t around and I’m there tinkering with my car that’s in pristine shape. I’m not hiding…
Maybe I’m hiding a little.
“What’s up?” I ask, keeping my head near the engine and moving the wrench, tightening a bolt that was tight forty-five minutes ago.
“You going to come clean with me, or make me say it?”
“Depends, you going to come clean with me?” I say back.
I look up at my sister, we both know something, but we’re both stubborn. And, honestly, I don’t know if I wanna talk about you. I don’t even know how to feel, much less what to say.
“I’m not trying to give you a hard time. You’re my brother, and I love you. But I know you’re seeing, Shay.”
I look at my sister. Your name being said out loud hits my ears and then my blood with a dose of pain. I miss you. So damn bad that I want to hear your name again because at least it makes me feel close to you somehow.
But I haven’t been close to you in days. After you said you loved me. After I walked out and ignored your calls and texts.
“I know what you’re going to say,” I say to Mic.
“Do you?” she raises her brow and crosses her arms.
“She’s young, I know.”
Mic shakes her head. “It’s not that she’s young, it’s that she’s bright. She’s also moping around my bar now, but still. She’s very bright.”
I stand up, my back muscles screaming from being hunched over this car. My shoulder hurts like a mother-fucker still. I’m a wreck without you.
“I know she’s bright.”
“I’m not here to judge you. I get it. She’s gorgeous and mature beyond her age. You can have a lot with a girl like that.”
I frown. “I’m not trying to have anything with her.”
Mic doesn’t say anything to that. Just looks at me like I’m full of bullshit. “Will you just take some advice from your sister? You can mess with a woman in a lot of ways. Fuck her, fuck with her heart, fuck with her mind…she can take a lot. But don’t ever fuck with an ambitious woman’s dreams.”
Mic’s words sink through my skull and into the core of my brain like slow syrup. There’s rawness in her voice. She knows what this feels like. Clearly, she knows you enough to say this. Knows me very well to say this.
“I’m not crazy about her family,” Mic goes on. “Because I’m always on your side. You’re a good man, Coe. Just be careful. Because she’s got you rattled and, clearly, you have an effect on her too.”
Mic turns to walk out.
“Mic,” I call after her. She stops and faces me. “What the hell do I do?”
She shrugs and gives me a look of pity. “I can only tell you what not to do.” She points her finger in my direction. “Don’t fuck with a girl’s dreams. Her heart is one thing, but her ambition is another.”
My sister leaves me with a weight I wasn’t carrying before heavy on my shoulders. I think about your eyes. Trusting and wet. Especially when you looked at me the last night we were together. I think about all the nights I’ve gotten with you this summer. How you are ambitious. And so damn bright. Mic is right. You’re like the sun itself. You have places to go and someone to be. I could have gotten you pregnant. Could have ruined your life. Could have accidentally trapped you here. And for what?
For me?
I don’t deserve you.
You deserve much better than me and Mojave.
You’re meant for bigger and better things. Things beyond anything I could give you.
I throw my wrench. Nothing makes sense. But I need to somehow find a way to see you. To talk to you. To tell you I do love you. So much that I’m scared to death I could ruin you. I want to tell you to stay. Tell you to leave. I just need to say something. Because you need to experience life outside of here and me.
I wipe my hands off on a rag and pull my keys out of my pocket. I am at your front door in less than two minutes. I knock loudly on the door. Nothing else matters but talking to you. Straightening this out so you can move on, enjoy the rest of your summer before college starts. Know that I love you, but that doesn’t change anything.
I knock again, louder.
“Shay?” I call.
The door opens.
“What on earth?” your grandma says.
Cold chills race up my back.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you, Ms. O’Brien,” I say. “I need to talk to Shay, please.”
Your grandma frowns hard and leans heavily on her walker.
“My granddaughter isn’t a concern of yours.”
“Shay?” I yell louder and walk around the side of the house and in the back door. Your grandma is screaming at me to get out. I will, I just need to see if you’re really home. You’re not.
I leave the same way I came in and come back to the front door where your grandma is clearly flustered and hating me.
“My grandson being gone because of you isn’t enough? Now, you’re after my sweet Shay?” she says.
It hits me then; your grandma blames me for everything. She doesn’t and will never believe what her grandson did. That he was dealing. Using. Dragged me down. No, I will be the villain in her world that took your brother down.
Her wrinkled face looks tired. Her eyes dim with exhaustion and stubborn confusion.
“Shay is smart. She’s leaving for college soon,” your grandma says, both with pride and telling me off.
“Yes, ma’am,” I confirm.
“She’s filling out scholarship applications with that nice young man, so you leave her be.”
I nod. She’s right. I should leave you be.
I should have done that in the beginning.
Because “nice young man” will never be me and you are smart, Shay. I hope you get everything you want in life.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say again. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”
I walked down your porch for the last time, vowing to never interrupt your life again.