Bounce (28 page)

Back at our place, Beth offers to come up and hang with me instead of heading over to Titus's house, but I tell her it's okay.

“You know where to find us,” she says.

“Yep.” I give them both kisses and hugs. I do know where to find them. And somehow, they always find me when I need them.

They drive off in Mia's car, and I head up to our apartment, dragging myself up the two flights of stairs like I'm hoisting myself up the Matterhorn. I really do just want to crawl under the blankets and sleep off this crap night.

But then I open the door and find Grey sitting on the couch, his head in his hands and four beer bottles clustered on the table in front of him.

He looks up when I close the door behind me. “Hey,” he says, and tries something that's meant to be a smile. But it fails completely.

“Hey. Everything all right?”

Shrugging, he says. “Not even a little.”

I go over and sit down next to him. As rough as it is between us, it feels good to be near him. It's like my body feeds off his warmth and strength, like a plant feeds off light.

I tilt my head to look up at him, at his solemn, beautiful face. “How about I tell you about my shitty night, and you can tell me about yours?”

Smiling, just a little, he picks up a beer bottle from the table and hands it to me. Then he taps his against mine. “Deal.”

  
Chapter 31
  

Grey

W
hen my night started, I didn't expect this. Skyler, curled up beside me on the couch.

I'm definitely missing something. Because didn't she
just
get back from San Francisco with Brooks? Maybe what I'm missing is that she ruled me out. Brooks got the boyfriend role. I got the roommate/​friend role. I glance down at her, and my throat goes raw. But I can't lose this moment with her just because it's not everything I want it to be.

“Ladies first,” I say.

Her long eyelashes flutter. She looks like she's going to fall asleep. “I'll be brief, otherwise I might start to cry again.”

“You can cry.”

She peers up and smiles. For a second, I think she's going to say something. Then I make the mistake of looking at her mouth, and it's pretty obvious to both of us that I want to kiss her. She looks away quickly, taking a sip of her beer, and I want to apologize
and
swear, because what did I do wrong? She's curled up so close to me. Of course I'm going to want to kiss her. And more. Doesn't mean I will.

“Thanks,” she says, “but I'd rather not get going again. Okay, here it is. I saw my dad tonight. He's in a band. I think I told you that before. They're here in Los Angeles, and I had no idea. I found out by chance, and that's kind of how it is with him. It's like he doesn't think about us. His
family
. We're an afterthought.
I
am.”

Jesus. What an asshole. I'd thought so already, based on what she's told me. But I didn't realize it was this bad. “Is his band any good?”

Skyler gasps. “
What?”
She play-punches me. “
That's
what you want to know?”

“It's my trade.”

“Yes. They're pretty good.”

She leans against my arm for a second, but I drop it on the back of the couch, removing that option. Replacing it with a better one. She scoots closer and snuggles against me. Win.

“Don't get fresh with me, okay?”

I laugh. “I'm not getting fresh with you. Anyway, you started it. Hey, speaking of which. How was the big date with Brooks? Awesome.”

“You didn't let me answer.”

“I actually don't want an answer. I just figured I should ask. Back to your dad. Want me to rough him up?”

“My
dad
?”

“Just keep it in your back pocket. I'm good with that kind of stuff.”

“Liar. You're just a big softy.”

“Based on the evidence I presented a few nights ago in your room, I think we both know that's not true.”

She laughs. “Pig.”

“Definitely.” It hits me that cheering her up is cheering
me
up, but I don't want to make light of what she's going through. “Seriously, Sky. I'm sorry about your dad. If there's anything I can do, let me know.”

“You're doing a lot by listening. By being here.” Skyler reaches for her beer, then sets it back down, and stifles a yawn. “What about you? What happened tonight?”

“Tomorrow,” I say. “You need to go to bed.”

She's leaving with the traveling production crew in a few days for their location shoot in the Virgin Islands. The next few weeks are going to be even more tiring for her. She won't be coming
home
at the end of the day. And the hours are even longer on location. I'm supposed to go, too, but I'm not sure I will.

“Yeah, I do. Come with me.” She peers up, and her brown eyes are sincere, warm. “I want to keep talking. I want to know what happened.”

This idea sounds potentially risky, but I'm sure as hell not going to say no, so we go through a routine that feels new but familiar, of brushing our teeth, getting into pajamas for her, and sweatpants and a t-shirt for me. Separately, unfortunately. Skyler dead-bolts the front door. I hit the lights in the kitchen. Then we deviate from the norm and climb into her bed
together
.

“So you know. I'm going to burn up in about five minutes. I usually only sleep in shorts.”

“I know. Why are you in sweatpants?”

“Safety measure. I triple-knotted the drawstring. Actually I tried to do a Double Carrick Bend knot, but it's been a long time since Boy Scouts.”

I can't see her smiling, but I know she is. “I trust you.”

“You shouldn't.”

“I do.”

We fall quiet for a moment, and I'm trying not to be turned on, but she smells amazing and she's snuggled up right next to me, and we're on a bed. It's a hell of a lot to ask, to ignore all of that.

Then Skyler says, “Is what happened tonight related to your mom?” And that completely kills the mood.

“Yeah . . . ​I learned some things today I didn't like. You know the showcase that's coming up? I guess she was the one who set that up. My parents are kind of . . . ​connected.”

“Okay,” Skyler says, carefully. “And you didn't want her help?”

“No.” I want to succeed on my own merit. I feel like the success won't be worth it if it's just another thing lined up for me because I'm a Blackwood. I mean, how many freakin' things are going to come to me, just because my parents made some arrangements? How fucking spoiled is that? How could I ever feel like I achieved anything if I didn't earn it outright? I want to shape my own life. “I don't want any charity from her.”

I'm getting angry, and Skyler must sense it. She sits up. Her expression is all concern, all worry. “Grey, it's your
family
. It's not charity. I
wish
my family helped me more.”

“She's not my family. Not really. And she's just trying to make up for always trying to make me be like her real son.” Aw, shit. My voice is starting to crack, and the world's going a little blurry. I reach over and shut the bedside lamp off.

Skyler doesn't move. She stays still, sitting beside me. Staring down at me like she can see in the dark.

I can't take it. I sit up and rub my face. I hear myself swearing. I want to leave, sprint out of this room. But I can't get past Skyler. I don't want to get past her.

“Grey,” she asks, softly. “What's this really about?”

“Everything.”

“Okay.” Her cool hand takes mine. “Tell me everything.”

I don't even think about it. I just start in. But there's so much to say, and I've never said any of it before, so I make a mess of it. I tell her about how Adam and I have the same dad. How Dad came and got me from my birth mom when I was five and took me home to a big house, a huge house, close to the ocean. I had a Spider-Man lunchbox. It was my proudest possession. Really. The
only
thing I was proud of. But then I got something a million times better. A brother. I'd never had one before. I loved him instantly. Adam looked out for me. He was . . . ​he was the best. Older. Just . . . ​like, my hero.

“I got a dad that day, too. He was busy a lot. But when he was around, he didn't push. He let me come to him. And he was just so damn sure of himself. So cocky and funny. You gotta meet my dad someday, Sky. There's no one like him.

“Madeleine, though. I don't know what the hell happened. She . . . ​she came on stronger. She wanted to be my mother. Except, I had a mother. I had a mother who smoked and drank and partied. Who forgot to feed me half the time. I'm not going to get into that right now. She didn't beat me. A few of her boyfriends did. I'm not going to get into that, either. What I'll say is this: I had a mother. And didn't really want another one—not like the one I had.

“That's all I saw when I looked at Madeleine. For a long time, that's all I saw. So we didn't get off to a good start. But then I started to see that she was different than my birth mom. Madeleine had expectations of me. She demanded manners, respect. She had standards for everything, how to dress and keep my room. What kinds of grades I should get. She wanted top effort in all things. For a kid who'd lived in and out of cars, in and out of crowded apartments, for a kid who'd been yelled at and thrashed a few times, for a kid who'd seen his mom drunk too many times, whose mom dated a new man every other month—for that kid, Madeleine, with all her expectations, with her perfect house with its polished wood floors and high ceilings; Madeleine, with her planned-out days and gourmet meals, and her perfect son who did everything right; Madeleine, with her charity functions for kids like me, who were
just like me,
well . . . ​she was terrifying.”

“Terrifying how?” Skyler asks.

“I don't know.”

“Grey . . . ​you do know. How?”

“Maybe I thought she wouldn't care unless I measured up. Maybe . . . ​Maybe I thought she looked at me like I was just some mistake of my dad's that she'd inherited. A piece of trash that had been dragged into her life. White trash.”

I can't even believe what I'm saying. I haven't even admitted this stuff to
myself
. Is this what I really think? I don't know anymore. I don't know. But it's definitely what I
thought
. For a long, long time. I see that now.

“Has she ever said anything to make you believe that's true?” Sky asks.

“She's, um . . . ​told me I'm difficult. She's said that a couple of times over the years. I was. And the night we fought, the night I left home, she told me I make it hard for her to love me. It's the truth. I've been such a fucking nightmare. I've given her so much grief. I haven't made it easy. And that night everything blew up, it was the culmination of—Jesus, where is my filter?”

“You don't need a filter. We're trading family misery stories.”

“Yeah, but you did a lot less talking than I'm doing.”

“I unloaded on Beth and Mia earlier tonight. Besides, who cares? Stop keeping score, Grey. Talk to me.”

“I feel like we left the living room so we could lie down, but we're sitting again.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“I think I'm done, Skyler.”

She reaches out, and next thing I know, her arms are wrapped around my neck. “Pretend it's a secret,” she whispers, “and tell me.”

I take a second to absorb how she feels. So soft and good. “No, Skyler. It's fucking embarrassing. I'm not proud of it, and you're the last person I want to—”

“Shh,” she says into my ear. The hair on my forearms lifts. “It's okay. I won't think less of you. I know who you are.”