As You Turn Away (The Walker Boys) (19 page)

He felt sure his voice would crack and fall apart but halfway through the first verse, he found Quinn’s gaze, and his confidence. The song brought back a hundred memories. Her blue eyes brought back a hundred more. It was difficult to remember that he wasn’t singing directly to her, because she wasn’t looking away from him. She was leaning forward, hands clasped, and Jonah had to wonder if she remembered them dancing to this at the first school dance they’d gone to together. Or how afterward, they’d parked down the street from her house and kissed until he had to make her go inside when the sky began to lighten.

The song ended before he was ready. Without the music, Jonah felt skewered and split open. As Ethan drew the last notes from his fiddle, then lowered it, the only sound was the ocean shhh’ing and whispering. Then Hannah, Lanie, and Quinn clapped, and Jamie danced around the fire, making them laugh. With everyone occupied, Jonah caught Quinn’s eye, and mimed walking. She nodded and he helped her stand.

They walked to the nearby dock; Jonah took his time so she wouldn’t feel a need to rush. He knew she hadn’t been out of her cast long and he didn’t want her to hurt herself. The dock stretched toward the water, and Jonah stared out over the dark waves.

“I’m really glad you’re with us tonight, Quinn.” He turned so he was facing her, and hoped the starlight wasn’t revealing everything he wasn’t saying. He already felt vulnerable from the song. “It just seems right.”

“Me too.” She bit her lip, her eyes wandering across his face. “I’m happy I got to hear you play and sing again. I’ve missed that.”

“I’ve missed
you
.” Jonah gripped the railing with both hands, so he wouldn’t be tempted to take either of hers. “And I don’t mean anything inappropriate by that. I just mean…I
miss
you. I miss us talking, and I’m happy we’re friends again.”

Quinn sighed; the ocean sighed with her. “I hope I didn’t hurt you the other day at the diner.” She frowned. “Everything is always so intense with us, and I just want us to go slow this time. I’m not really
whole yet, so I
need
to go slow. To make sure we reconnect organically. I finally stopped being mad at you; I’m just learning again how to be myself with you.”

Jonah nodded, and glanced up at the sky. It was so bright out here, and the fixed points like the Big Dipper gave him a way to gather his composure. When he was sure he could say something that made sense, and would fall within Quinn’s guidelines, he met her gaze again.

“I want to do everything right this time.” He chose his words like he’d choose the safe places to walk amongst broken eggshells. He searched Quinn’s face for clues, but the moonlight didn’t give enough illumination to tell him what she was thinking.

When she brushed her hand across his, Jonah knew he didn’t need the moon.

“So we will.”

“Do you feel better?” He kissed the top of her head.

Quinn shifted against him. “Yes. Being here with y’all was the right choice.”

Jonah thought about how she’d looked when she showed up: pale, with red-rimmed eyes, gasping for breath. Between tears she’d told him about the party her mother threw, and the ripped-apart dress she’d left in the bathroom. Now she was breathing evenly, and he’d helped her take her hair down. She was wearing one of his flannel shirts, and even though he knew this couldn’t last, he never wanted her to move.

“You know we got your back, Reynolds.” Reece sat up, and moved closer. His jaw clenched as he looked at Quinn. “Not just Joe. Me and Ethan are here for you too, and my parents will be if you ever need their help.”

Turning her head toward Reece, Quinn smiled. Jonah could only see it in profile, but the upturning of her lips left him shaken. Instead of making her look happy, the smile seemed wilted, like flowers left too long out of water. Like something soft, struggling to bloom, to survive.

“Thanks, farm boy.” She touched his shoulder. “That means the world to me.” Her voice trembled around the words. “I keep telling myself if I can make it to eighteen, I’ll be out. Free. But every day it gets harder to imagine making it that long, there. She wants me bound so tightly in her world that it won’t matter if I can even breathe. As long as I’m her creation, that’s all that matters.”

Reece drummed his fingers against the dock. “So fuck her. Fuck ’em all.” He shrugged, and tossed his head so his hair wasn’t in his face. His eyes narrowed in on Quinn as Jonah rocked her gently. “You only get this one life and this one chance to be happy, Quinn. And I care enough about you that I want you to be happy. Life isn’t worth living if you’re miserable, or pretending to be someone you ain’t.”

Jonah brushed his lips over Quinn’s ear. “What my brother is trying to say, sweetheart, is to find the courage to be you.”

Quinn thumbed through a magazine she wasn’t really reading; her dad had about a half hour of physical therapy left, and she needed something to do. They were planning to go to lunch afterward if he wasn’t worn out, and she was really looking forward to spending time together. They’d made it a point to eat their meals together since his release from the hospital and were both trying to make good on the promise they made to be a family again.

She knew they had a lot of work ahead of them, but it would be worth it.

She wished she was in the same shape their relationship was in, but since her revelation about Jonah, and their talk on the beach, she was struggling. When she was with her dad, she could focus on them and nothing else, but if she was on her own, she had to deal with the ghosts haunting her. Jonah was on her mind constantly and she didn’t know what to do about him. She had been totally honest with him—and with herself—at the beach. She wasn’t okay. She did want to take things slowly when it came to them. She needed time to figure out how to balance friendship and the unspoken potential for more.

Sighing, Quinn turned a page. An advertisement for Lanie’s favorite shampoo stared at her, the model’s hair shiny and perfect. Quinn shook her head and flipped to the next article, but it was all about getting the perfect guy. She closed the magazine, because it couldn’t help her. The perfect guy was already in her life, and she was keeping him at arm’s length.

“Quinn!” Someone sat beside her, and bumped her shoulder lightly. “Hey.”

Quinn made herself smile at Hannah, who was wearing a Braves cap she must have stolen from Ethan. “Hannah, hey. What are you doing?”

Hannah tugged at her ear, her gaze skating around the room. “I just finished with an appointment, and was leaving when I saw you sitting here. Are you waiting for your dad?”

Nodding, Quinn put aside her magazine and focused on Hannah. Even though she knew the older girl hadn’t given Jonah the warmest welcome, Quinn had always liked Hannah. She hadn’t known her well in the past, and she wished she’d changed that as soon as she came home. Hannah didn’t talk much about her cancer, especially around Jamie, but Quinn knew it had to be taking a tremendous toll on her. She couldn’t imagine being a mom
and
being sick, but Hannah was still as fierce as ever.

Quinn wanted to be like her.

“I am.” Quinn folded her hands in her lap. “We’re getting lunch later, since it’s just the two of us today. I said I’d drive him here since he can’t right now, and because I need to get back behind the wheel.” She shuddered. “I still think about the accident, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life afraid of driving. I have too many issues as it is without adding another one.”

She almost put her hand over her mouth to stop the words, but it was too late.

Hannah adjusted her cap so her eyes showed more under the brim. “That’s kick-ass that you’re moving past your fear. Good for you.”

Quinn nodded, her stomach churning. This wasn’t her. She didn’t open up like this to anyone but Lanie, because somehow Lanie had seen beyond all her defenses and made a place for herself in Quinn’s heart early in their friendship. So Lanie got to hear her secrets, and dreams, and fears, and in return, Quinn tried to be the best friend she could.

“I wouldn’t describe anything about me as kick-ass,” Quinn muttered. “You don’t know me. I’m…the opposite of bold.”

“Do you always lie to yourself like this?” Hannah raised an eyebrow when Quinn looked at her. “Or are you just too afraid to really look at yourself, and see yourself like others do?”

At Hannah’s words, Quinn turned fully to face her. The other girl wasn’t laughing—if anything, she looked totally serious. Her face was pale but composed, and didn’t change under Quinn’s scrutiny. So either she was totally delirious, or she believed what she was saying.

“How exactly do you think other people see me?”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Are you serious? You’re a rock star in this town. You tamed one of the Walker boys,
and
you got out of here.” She laughed. “Whether you realize it or not, you and Jonah are like freakin’ Southern royalty, Quinn. Everyone knew how much the two of you loved each other, and when y’all broke up, that just added another layer to the story. People here are
still
hoping for you guys to get back together.” She leaned forward in her chair, her eyes staying on Quinn’s. “You want to know how we see you, Quinn? You’re talented, and you have a way of drawing people to you. You’ve got issues, sure, but who the fuck doesn’t?”

Quinn sat back in her chair, trying to comprehend Hannah’s words. Her mother had told her she was many things, but special was never one of them. Now that Moira was gone, all Quinn could do was wonder what might have been, if she’d tried harder to understand her mother’s need to power and privilege. If her mom had tried to know her—the
real
her, not the version she’d tried to create and control. If they’d both realized they would never be who the other thought they were, but achieved some middle ground.

Could they ever have had the relationship they had when Quinn was a child? If they’d met in the middle, would Quinn have many more good memories to balance the bad? Would she have been able to believe in Jonah’s praise from the beginning, instead of looking for the tarnish on the other side of their relationship? Would she have left still, breaking the both of them in the process?

“My issues are complicated.” Dagger-like tears pricked at her eyes, and she blinked. “I don’t know if I can explain, or if it would make sense, or…”

“Oh come on.” Hannah smirked. “If you can’t spill your secrets to the dying girl, who can you tell?”

Quinn felt her eyes widen, and she sat up straighter. “What?”

Hannah waved a hand in the air, and laughed, a dry, brittle sound like fall leaves crunching under booted feet. “Just got my scans back and the treatment isn’t working at all. If anything, the damn cancer is spreading, so who knows? It’s anyone’s game from here on out, and it’s like this. I’ve got a few options. I can feel sorry for myself, or I can make the most of whatever life I’m lucky enough to have left.” She eyed Quinn. “So it’s your turn. What skeletons in your closet are worse than that?”

Impulsively, Quinn reached out and hugged Hannah. She could feel two thundering heartbeats for the duration of the hug. Hannah’s was likely from surprise, but Quinn’s was from terror. She held on anyway, and when she finally pulled back, she wiped at her eyes.

“God, Hannah. I don’t know what to say.” She jumped when her phone buzzed with a text. Her screen lit up with the first sentence, and she pushed the button to lock her phone. “Nothing in my life seems worth complaining about.”

“I didn’t tell you so you’d feel sorry for me.” Hannah lowered her head, staring at her hands. “I told you to inspire you to
move on
, Quinn.” She raised her eyes, tears dotting her cheeks. “I know from the very little Reece has told me that you had a hard life. I know that money doesn’t necessarily mean you have everything you need. I’ve always been glad to be poorer than some, but happier than others. And even though I’ve made mistakes, I’ve always tried to own my actions, and just keep moving forward.” She frowned. “Even when things are bad, if you get stuck, then the bad wins.”

Watching Hannah, Quinn had no idea what to say. Hannah’s attitude and bravery were what Quinn admired so much about her. And even though Quinn knew Hannah was right about everything, applying all of that to her life felt impossible. Every time she felt able to reach for happiness, she heard her mother in her head and nightmares, telling her she was destined to be nothing. To have nothing.

Quinn swallowed; her mouth felt dust-dry. “You know how when someone tells you something often enough, you start to believe it even if it isn’t true? Even if it’s horrible, and unfair?” She coughed to try to get the knot out of her throat. “Let’s just say that’s what I’m trying to outrun. A lifetime of being told only negative things about myself.” She used the sleeve of her shirt to blot her tears.