CHAPTER 3:
BEN
Georgina was pregnant. This was all my fault. If I hadn’t run away in the first place, she’d probably still be dating Logan Tyler—my best friend growing up, and her now ex-boyfriend. She never would have tried to commit suicide and she never would have left college. She probably wouldn’t have gotten pregnant and all would be right with the world.
I guess it was possible all of this would have happened regardless of my decisions. But I still felt shitty either way, which was a feeling that had taken up residency and made itself comfortable in my chest. I could never shake the constant uneasiness. Which made me hate being around other people and, also, on the flip side of that, quite unpleasant to be around as well. Ironic, too, because in high school I’d been very popular. Now I was anti-social as fuck and didn’t even know how to be normal around my own family.
So as soon as I could, I made up an excuse to get away. “I’m going to take the trash out. Tomorrow’s trash day, right? The stuff needs to go to the curb?”
“Well, yes,” my mom answered. She was relaxing on the couch with her computer on her lap—always working even in her free time, that was my mother. “But your father can take it out later before he goes to bed. You don’t have to.”
“Nah, I got it.” I stood up, suddenly determined as hell to take out the trash and get those cans to the curb. I went for the trash in the kitchen and yanked out the half empty bag. Noah sat there, at a barstool at the counter, watching me like a hawk, like he was analyzing my every move and dissecting everything I did inside that creepy-as-hell brain of his. Whenever he was around when we were growing up, I never thought twice about him. He was just Ellie’s strange, quiet friend, always observing and evaluating. Now he was my other sister’s baby-daddy.
“Have you called your parole officer yet?” Mom asked.
“No. I still have half an hour.” I had to check in each night with Jack. And Jack was the type of man who didn’t fuck around. So, yeah, I knew exactly what time it was. I wasn’t about to forget that call. Ever.
I got the bag tied, and I was immediately out of there. I took my time outside, too, hanging around the trash cans, doing nothing but stewing in my own thoughts. I was bored. If I smoked, I would have smoked. If I had a phone, I would have googled something random on the internet. I missed California and Carrie Stone and nights spent watching the sunset on the Pacific. My family lived on the beach, in a beautiful beachfront home—not all that different from living in Carrie’s beachfront home. But it was somehow completely different.
During my idling, I glanced up at the Davenport’s house next door. I wanted to see if the light I saw earlier was still on. Shit. It wasn’t now. The house was completely dark.
What the hell.
Was someone over there?
Just then, distracting me for a moment, the door to my house creaked as someone was coming outside. If it was Noah following me then I was going to flip my shit. Not gonna lie, the dude terrified the crap out of me. But it wasn’t Noah, it was Georgina—or Georgie as everyone in my family was calling her these days.
“Hey,” I said to my sister.
“Hey,” she answered. “What are you doing out here?”
“Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe in that house.” I’m not sure what compelled me to be honest, but the words popped out. For the first time in what felt like two years, I had actually answered someone truthfully.
“Tell me about it,” Georgina said, agreeing. She came further outside and leaned against my mom’s Jeep, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a short sleeve shirt and didn’t have her coat on. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve got the scars to prove it, too.” She uncrossed her arms and lifted them for me, exposing the underside of each so I could see. She had a pink line on each arm, the one on the right far worse than the one on the left.
Holy shit.
Those were some serious scars. She hadn’t just nicked herself with whatever knife she’d used on her skin; she’d done serious damage. I realized then how lucky she was to still be alive. Jesus, I felt like I might vomit. I hadn’t needed to see the actual proof of her suicide attempt.
“Sorry,” she offered, probably noticing the terror on my face. Because it was there, sheer horror over what my sister had done, and I wasn’t able to hide it. “Noah’s so comfortable with my scars,” she commented, “sometimes I forget not everyone else is.” She crossed her arms back over her chest.
I gulped, swallowing down a giant lump in my throat.
What the hell do you say to that? Good for Noah?
A long silence followed, nothing but the cold and darkness filling the air between us. For a moment, we’d been making some progress, but now everything became awkward again.
While I stood there trying to come up with something, anything, to say, I noticed the back gate to the neighbor’s house slightly ajar. It had a funny latch on it, always had, and had to be really pulled hard in order to shut properly. I knew this because sometimes we’d go swimming in their swimming pool. The Davenports didn’t mind. They were friends with my parents and when renters weren’t in the house we used their pool all the time growing up.
So, this settled it. Between the gate and the light, I had a real bad feeling.
“I think someone is in the house next door.”
“What?” Georgina questioned. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to go check it out. Does Mom still have a key to their house?”
“It’s just inside on the hook. Here—” She pushed the door back open and easily grabbed the key from inside. Then she handed it over. “Want me to go get Noah so he can go with you?”
“No.” Hell no. “I’m probably imagining things. If I’m not back by my curfew time then you can send him over.”
Without waiting another moment, I left Georgina and cut across the sand and weeds that separated our house from the Davenports. If there was in fact someone next door who’d broken in then I had no idea what the hell I was going to do. I planned to sneak into the house myself, maybe peak around, and then get the fuck out of there.
I went for the deck stairs that led up to the second floor, figuring that entrance would be safer. The house had sliding glass doors off the living room, so I planned to enter that way. I crept quickly and carefully, not making a sound. Glancing in through the glass, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. For five minutes I stood there, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, I figured that I’d been mistaken and the house was empty. My mind was just over analyzing like it tended to do. Still, just to be absolutely certain, I pushed the key into the lock and turned. It wasn’t possible to open a sliding door stealthily, so I yanked and rushed inside, closing the door behind me.
The moment I entered there was a giant thud. Someone was in the house! The thud was the sound of a body hitting the floor. It was a she. I saw her now. She must have been sleeping on the couch and the moment I entered I must have startled her because she fell straight to the floor.
A woman.
I could see enough in the moonlight, enough to know she wasn’t some badass criminal who was going to shoot me down with a gun. I flipped the switch by the door, flooding the room in light.
Dammit, it was Lilly Davenport.
“You scared the shit out of me, Lilly!” I exclaimed, letting my guard down and moving across the room to plop down on one of the sofas. “Lilly, right?”
She watched me with wide eyes, not responding.
The last time I saw Lilly Davenport we’d both been about ten years old. Her family used to come several times every summer and stay in this beach house. Then they stopped. I wasn’t sure why.
The last time I saw her, Lilly had been an overweight, freckle faced, red-haired, aggressive ten year old. I always loved going out on the beach at night with a flashlight and bucket, chasing and capturing ghost crabs. She’d been the only girl brave enough to play the game with me.
Lilly now, the Lilly sitting on the floor and still shocked, wasn’t that same chubby kid I remembered from my childhood. In fact, the only thing the same about her was the color of her hair. The ugly duckling had transformed into a swan. She’d thinned out, matured, and grown into a beautiful woman. Even in the baggy sweatshirt, jeans, and strange hat she had all her hair tucked into, she was the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen in real life. And this coming from a guy who’d recently lived in Malibu—where celebrities live!
Actually, maybe this wasn’t Lilly, but instead her younger sister, Mary. Mary had also been a redhead, if I remembered correctly.
“Lilly Davenport, right?” I asked again, waiting on her to clarify. When she didn’t, I kept talking. “I’m Ben Turner. You know, from next door.” I sat up for a moment, to extend her my hand. The girl was still sitting on the floor, clearly terrified and in shock by my presence. In silence, she at least took my hand and let me tug her to her feet. As soon as she was up she pulled away, and like a shy little puppy, she sat back down on the other couch. I moved back to my side of the room, keeping my distance. She seemed like she wanted distance.
“Yeah, sorry to freak you out,” I went on. “I saw a light on and noticed the gate wasn’t latched and came over to check it out. My mom still has a key and all. I heard about your dad, about him passing away. I’m sorry.” My gaze settled on her eyes now. They were a solid blue color with mascara under them like she’d been crying at some point today.
I hadn’t been initially nervous around her, in some way it was kind of like seeing an old friend, but she hadn’t spoken a word and I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I had just broken into her house… at night… randomly. I guess she had every reason to be terrified of me. Fuck.
I was about to go because I didn’t want to upset her more than she was already by me, but then she spoke. Finally.
Her voice was soft and a little shaky as she said, “Ben? Ben Turner from next door?”
“That’s me. Are you Lilly or Mary Davenport? Sorry, it’s been a long time since we last saw each other. You and your sister always looked similar.”
She cleared her throat and then after a second or two responded, “I’m Lilly.”
Okay then. She wasn’t as outgoing or confident as the Lilly I remembered from when we were kids, not by a long shot. But I guess most people are nothing like their former selves from childhood. Then again, maybe her subdued behavior had a lot to do with the recent loss of her father.
Or maybe, shit, she’d thought I was dead like the rest of the world, and I had just barged into her family’s house like a breathing, talking, walking ghost.
Um…
“I’m not a ghost or anything,” I quickly explained. “You can pinch me if you want. I’m real. I promise. My whole death thing was kind of a misunderstanding.”
She scrunched her face at me and a giant pause followed my confession. She stared at me like I was bat-shit crazy. And then, suddenly, she burst out laughing—a deep, hardy, unafraid and unapologetic laugh.
“I have no idea what you just said, Ben Turner from next door. No idea.”
“It’s complicated,” I said, rubbing my hands against my jeans, hoping I wouldn’t have to say more.
“It sounds complicated.” And she asked no more questions about it. Thank God. But she did relax. It was a subtle change, but I noticed. She sat more comfortably on the couch, uncrossing her arms and leaning back. The hardened expression on her face softened.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “The house is up for sale. You know that, right?” Maybe she hadn’t known the place was up for sale. Or maybe she came here all the time, and I was the one who didn’t know.
“I know,” she answered. “But I just lost my father and all, like you said, and I wanted to come here one last time before the place was sold. There are so many memories here,” she went on, “and it felt right coming here. Mary, my sister, told me it might be weird. But I needed to come. So that’s why I’m here.” Then almost like an afterthought she added, “I rode the bus. From D.C. Where I live now.”
That explained her weird Washington D.C. hat and sweatshirt. I guess. I thought only tourists bought stuff like that with city names across the front in bold letters. But, whatever, maybe she really loved Washington D.C.
I needed to leave. It had to be nearing my curfew time. I'd catch some serious shit from Jack if I didn't call him exactly at eight.
“Okay.” I stood up. “Well, I gotta go. My mom’s the realtor showing this house. So if you want, I can talk to her, see if and when she’s supposed to be showing the house, and let you know when people will be coming to look at it. I know it’s customary for the family not to be around during the walk-throughs."
“You'd do all that for me?”
She sounded surprised and genuinely thankful by my offer. We were neighbors and old family friends, of course I'd do all that for her. I'd be an asshole not to.
“Yeah. No big deal,” I told her.
As I walked for the sliding glass doors, I glanced around the house. Other than the basic furniture the place was furnished with, there was nothing else—no bags or belongings that looked like they might be hers. Only one small purse in the corner.
How much of a hurry had she been in when she'd left to come here?
Strange.
And she’d ridden a bus here?
I guess that meant she didn't have a car.
Did she even have any food in the house?
“Yeah, one more thing,” I said to her, feeling a little like I was overstaying my welcome, but still feeling compelled to ask. “My mom made enough lasagna to feed a small army for dinner tonight, and there was a lot left. Want me to bring you over a plate?”
“Okay.” She shrugged. “I could eat.”
“Be back in a minute then.” Not able to linger another second, I left. As I was skipping down the steps, rushing now, I noticed Noah crossing the weeds and heading toward me.
“It's eight,” he yelled into the wind. He was tall and blond and wore his shoulder length hair in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. It really baffled me as to what Georgina saw in him. He'd be a townie for life. Not that being a townie bothered me since my family was full of townies too, but I kind of expected more for Georgina. I always pictured her as a future lawyer or doctor, living in New York City, in a fancy penthouse apartment with a small French bulldog and a butler...or something like that. She was fucking brilliant, a straight-A student in all her advanced classes at school—not some miniature golf owner's pregnant wife. Correction: pregnant girlfriend. He hadn't even married her first. I never expected my sister to settle.
She was better than Noah. Better than Logan even. Better than her current situation.
“I know,” I told Noah. I rushed down the rest of the steps and ran past him across the path.
He groaned loudly, turning to follow me. We said nothing to each other as we went inside and immediately walked off in separate directions. He went toward Ellie's old room in the basement, while I hurried upstairs to find a phone and make my call. Luckily, I was only three minutes late calling in and Jack didn't hassle me too much about it.
But now that it was after eight, I couldn't leave the house. Which presented a problem since I still had to make good on my promise to Lilly and get her some damn lasagna somehow. I needed a favor. Ellie was really the only person in this house that I felt comfortable asking. I'd have to ask her to take it over there for me.
But, shit, she was downstairs with Nathanial, Noah, and Georgina now. Fuck me…I'd have to be social. I guess it boiled down to me really wanting Lilly as a friend. She was the first person I'd encountered since I'd come home who didn't know the full truth about me. The first person I could have a fresh start with. I mean, she had been super into catching those ghost crabs with me as a kid, and I respected that. And she'd come all the way down to Kill Devil Hills to mourn her dad in her own way; I could relate. Plus, it had been easy to have a conversation with her. That was becoming exceedingly difficult for me with everyone else.
Okay, that decided it—I'd go ask.
“Ellie?” I asked, coming down the stairs to the basement. Ellie and Noah were playing foosball, while Georgie and Nathanial were sitting on the couch, watching something on the TV. I actually had known Nathanial before Ellie, he was Carrie Stone's neighbor in Malibu. In some weird twisted way, if it weren't for me, they never would have met.
“Would you mind running a plate of lasagna next door?” I asked Ellie, coming up to stand beside her at the foosball table. “Maybe take some of the garlic bread and cannoli mom made over too.”
“You mean, Davenports next door? Or Walkers next door?” she asked, not breaking her concentration from the table. She scored on Noah, hollering over her mini victory, before dropping another ball into the game.
“Davenports,” I answered, speaking loudly over her aggressive playing. She kept spinning the men on the table as hard as she could in an attempt to beat Noah, who clearly was better at the game than she was.
“Why? Who's over there?” she questioned between breaths.
“Lilly Davenport.”
“Oh, wow, I haven’t heard Lilly’s name in years,” Georgina chirped in from the couch. She must have been listening intently to our conversation. “I guess you were worried for nothing about that light then, huh? What’s Lilly like now?”
“Grown up,” I answered Georgina, saying no more, with my eyes still on Ellie. “So, will you?”
“Fine,” Ellie groaned, giving Noah a pointed look. He must have understood whatever her look meant because he stopped play immediately. “Only if you finish my game here with Noah.”
Noah flat out scowled at her—to which she stuck her tongue out as a reply.
“Come on, husband,” she said, abandoning the game and leaning over the couch to pull on Nathanial’s arm. “Will you go with me?”
Nathanial ended up going with her. While I was forced to play a game with Noah. Part of me itched to kick his ass at foosball. I mean, I’d grown up with this table in the basement. And given my competitiveness, I was easily the best at it in my family. Part of me wanted to show him up. But as soon as I heard Ellie slamming the door, leaving the house, there was no chance I was about to stick around and do anything as civil as play a game with Noah. So I went off upstairs. “Night,” I said to my sister and her baby-daddy.
“Goodnight,” Georgina told me, letting me off the hook, while Noah said nothing at all.
The simple arrival of Lilly Davenport had distracted me away from my own thoughts… if only for thirty minutes or so. Still, a distraction was a distraction, and I welcomed it.