Love on the Ledge (16 page)

Collecting. River. She’s gambling again.

“Sky,” River says, “I’m sorry. I lost all of it.”

“She doesn’t have any money,” I tell him.

He shrugs. “There’s other ways to collect payment.”

He traces that fat finger on River’s creamy skin. She bats him away, but she barely has any strength to get up.

Adrenaline runs through my veins, sobering me up. All of my senses are on alert with warning signs pointing at this guy.

I take River’s hand and pull her. “Get the fuck away from her.”

My body trembles from top to bottom. I don’t sound menacing or convincing. I sound scared. It makes him smile. It makes him grab for me instead.

I take several steps back. “I’m going to call the cops.”

“Try it,” he dares me. “Your friend’s got a couple of treats in her pockets.”

He leers down my shirt. His eyes grow wide and unfocused. His meaty hands reach for me. Leti jumps between us and pushes him back.

He hits the wall and grunts. He means to come at us, to hurt us, to put us in our place.

Then, the old biker who was sitting next to me appears at our side. He stands there, watching us. He doesn’t make a move to help. His small dark eyes peek from behind bushy white brows. He turns his head from side to side.

“Told you not to come back here, Will.”

Will stands straighter. “She owes me three bills.”

“Should think twice about your clients.”

Will wants to snarl. The bar’s gone quiet. The TV runs on a sports channel, and the tap drips heavy fat beads of beer onto the bar.

When I turn around, every biker and patron is standing. Hands reaching at back pockets or the inside of jean jackets.

“Go on, get,” the old biker says. “I don’t even want to see you on a postcard, we clear?”

Will nods once and exits the bar.

Leti and I help River stand. Her head hangs back. I take her face in my hand and look at her eyes. It’s like the lights are on but no one’s home.

She tries to talk, but her words are nonsense and her breath is acrid.

“You, too,” the old man tells us.

But we’re already heading out the door. The sun has already set. Our car is parked in the lot, but none of us are in any condition to drive.

“Should we take her to the hospital?” Leti asks. She can’t decide where she wants to stand so she walks in circles.

If we take her to the hospital, they’ll find drugs in her system.

“I’m fine,” River says.

Drunk logic is a funny thing. Only a person using another human to support their weight could claim they’re fine.

“She needs to sleep it off.” River’s body gets heavier by the second.

“No,” she says. “No home.”

She lets go of me and crawls on the cement floor. I don’t know where she’s going, but she’s right. There’s no way the three of us can show up at the house like this.

“Who are you calling?” Leti asks, chasing after River. She’s given up her quest and turns on the ground. She falls on her back and shuts her eyes, mumbling something I can’t understand.

I find his number quickly. It takes a few rings for him to answer. Please, please, answer.

“Hey,” he says.

“I’m sorry. Something’s wrong. I need you to pick me up.”

I can hear him pushing away bed sheets. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

I go over to River. She’s out cold. I lift her head and place it on my lap and brace myself for the longest five minutes of my entire life.

Hayden makes it in four minutes. When I see the black silhouette of his truck driving up the street, my heart flutters. Relief. Happiness. All the feelings Leti and I were talking about before we saw River.

“She’s passed out,” I tell him. “I just can’t take her home. She’s not to the point where we have to take her to the hospital.”

River’s pulse is strong, and she opens her eyes every now and then to tell us she’s sorry. She loves us. She’ll never do it again.

The same old song.

“It’s fine,” he tells me, placing a hand on my shoulder. He lifts my chin to look into my eyes. “I’m glad to help.”

He picks up River like she’s a baby. She cocoons herself against his chest. I open the back door to his truck. Leti gets in on one side and we place River’s head on her lap. It’s like a contortionist’s worst nightmare, but it’ll do.

I hop into the passenger seat and look at Hayden. He doesn’t smile, but he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. I lean my head back, dizzy from alcohol and shaking from Will’s threats. Between the parking lot and Hayden’s house, dozens of scenarios worm their ways to my thoughts. What if we hadn’t been there? What if Will had hurt River? What if River had never made it home? It’s all too familiar, and I have to shut my eyes and take deep breaths to calm myself down.

In the back seat, River is awake and crying into Leti’s lap. Leti brushes her hair back and soothes her.

When we get to his house, Hayden releases my hand to turn the wheel and park. It’s a two-story home painted in all white with blue shutters. The grass is manicured neatly compared to the hulking mansions on each side.

We park out back. There’s a long wooden picnic table and a grill. That’s all I can see in the dark before Hayden shoves his keys in my hands. I open the back door and we follow him up creaking wooden floors.

He sets her down in what must be the guest bedroom. It’s unused and the bed is made up perfectly.

“I’ll get a garbage can,” he whispers.

Leti huddles behind me, examining every inch of the room. “Does he live alone?”

I shake my head. “His mom lives here, too.”

River’s passed out. I take this opportunity to dig into her pockets. I find two little clear plastic bags, a crushed pack of cigarettes, and two hundred dollar chips. Leti sighs and swears under her breath.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I set everything else on the nightstand, but I take the plastic bags into the adjoining bathroom and dump the contents in the toilet. That’s three hundred dollars worth of blow.

When I come back in the room, Hayden’s juggling three Gatorades, a bottle of pain killers, and a bucket. “Not the first time I’ve taken care of a wasted friend. You should ask Gary about last summer’s fiasco,” he tells Leti.

“Is it okay we’re here?” I ask. “Your mom…”

“She’s seen worse.” He doesn’t explain and I don’t pry. “There’s some t-shirts and pajamas in the dresser.”

“I’ll stay with her,” Leti says. “It’s my turn.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Right.”

“I can drive you home if you want,” Hayden tells me.

I shake my head. I know what this means. Leti and River are in the queen-sized guest bed. That leaves me with Hayden.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

• • •

Hayden’s room is nothing like I would have imagined. Of all the boys’ rooms I’ve ever been in, his is the cleanest. There’s a king-sized bed with tangled sheets, like he got up in a hurry. A stack of comic books on the nightstand. A metallic lamp.

The furniture is the most striking. The nightstand, the bed frame, even the computer desk in the corner all look special. I trace my finger along the carving in the wood.

“Did you make this?”

“How can you tell?” He stands right behind me, framing my body with his.

I shrug. “Same designs as the gazebo.”

He walks around me to a tall dresser. Everything still has a sweet wood smell. He takes a t-shirt and hands it to me.

“All of my pants are probably too big for you.”

He sticks his thumbs in the waistband of his pajama pants. At first I think he’s going to take them off, then I realize they don’t have any pockets and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

Hayden is nervous, and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t know why, but him being nervous makes me less so.

“Be right back.” I take the shirt and head to the bathroom. I rake my hair back a couple of times. My nose is red from a spot I forgot to slather with sunscreen. My eyes are red from all the booze I drank today. I look through the medicine cabinet. Mostly anxiety pills with his mother’s name: Regina Robertson. I grab the eye drops and put two in each eye. I tilt my head back and keep my eyes shut for a minute.

I splash water on my face and use some of his mom’s face cream. It’s the same kind my mom uses. I draw a line of toothpaste on my finger for the walk-of-shame-tooth-brush. I give myself one last glance in the mirror. Hayden’s t-shirt is the same blue of his eyes. It’s like wearing a tent, and it feels wonderful.

I hurry back to his room where he’s in a tank and pajama pants. He’s flipping through a comic, but drops it when he sees me come back in.

“Wow,” he says, his eyes taking their time from my toes, up my legs, and settle on my face. “Um, I can take the couch. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything else.”

My heart goes into panic-preservation mode. What excuse can I give for him to stay? Oh, I know. “Don’t go.”

When his smile returns, I feel myself relax.

“Are you sure?”

“Hayden, today feels like it’s gone on for a hundred years. I just want to lie down. Please, lie down with me.”

He holds his arms out to me and I climb into his bed. “Two beds with you in one day. I’m either the luckiest guy alive, or I’m dreaming.”

I tuck my legs into the covers and lean up against his chest. Maybe I’m the lucky one. “Thank you for coming.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Does this happen a lot with her?”

I nod. “Not in a long time. River’s had a rough past. Her mom left when she was little. Her dad couldn’t stand to look at River because she’s the spitting image of her mom. That’s what he told her once.”

“My mom told me that same thing once. Why do parents say that, like it’s our fault we get stuck with their genes?”

My mom’s never said that to me, even though I have the same eyes as my dad. I can feel it in the way she looks at me though, like she has to look away eventually.

“I wonder what set her off,” I say. “She’s been clean for a year. I checked her into rehab after her dad died. She didn’t talk to me for months, but then she called me when she wanted Oreos. That’s how I know she forgives me. She asks me to bring her Oreos and we share.”

“You’re a really great friend. That’s an important part of someone.”

“I just hope I can help as much this time. River’s like blood.” I sink into the comfort of his body. It’s like we’ve been doing this for so long. I wonder why sometimes it’s easier to find that sense of familiarity with some more than others. When I started dating Bradley, it took us a solid month before I felt at ease in his place.

Stop,
I tell myself. My self sounds strangely like Leti telling me to stop comparing Hayden and Bradley together. But I can’t help it. They have the same coloring. Blond hair and blue eyes, even though I swear I don’t have a type. Where Bradley is entitled, Hayden works hard. Where Bradley is undercutting and hurtful, Hayden is understanding and sweet. Where Bradley never cared who I went out with or if I didn’t call for twenty-four hours, Hayden is already jealous of a guy I don’t care for. That’s the only problem. Jealousy destroys. I know this first-hand. It eats away at your heart.

“I’m glad you called,” Hayden says. “I wanted to make a U-turn as soon as I left, but I wasn’t sure how to explain myself. I feel like an idiot for the way I left you.”

“My Uncle Tony says the best way to explain yourself is to start from the beginning.” I look up at him. His skin is a magnet for my hand. I trace the slopes of his arm muscles, loving the way his skin warms to my touch. “What happened?”

He leans back against the headboard and sighs. “This might be too soon, but I feel like the summer ending is this ticking time bomb. So here goes. My last girlfriend and I ended on really bad terms. See this scar?” He points to the tiny nick on his forehead. It’s covered by the flop of his hair. “She threw a hammer at my head.”

“What the fuck?”

He chuckles. “Right? I’d been working non-stop for a few weeks. I wanted to save up some money to take her on one of those Europe backpacking trips. But I was an idiot. I wanted it to be a surprise. Then she started acting really weird for a while. She wouldn’t return my calls or she’d just straight up stand me up when we did make plans. It was Gary that told me he’d seen her getting into some guy’s radiation-orange Camaro. When I asked her about it she went ballistic. She said I didn’t trust her. I didn’t love her. I didn’t put her feelings first.”

I press my hand on his chest to feel the way his heart races.

“I told her we were through. She grabbed the closest thing she could find.”

“Your hammer.”

“Yep. Good thing she’s a terrible shot or I’d be horribly disfigured by now.”

“Hayden.” I know he’s trying to joke, but I’ve been there. I know he’s hiding his hurt behind that smile. “You don’t have to do that.”

“That was in the spring.”

“Did you go on the backpacking trip?”

He shakes his head. “I never told her about it either. It wouldn’t have changed anything. She kept seeing that guy. Sometimes I see them zooming around town in that stupid car. Who paints a car orange?”

“Someone who really like oranges,” I say.

This time he laughs for real. “So when I saw that guy still at your house, it just brought all of that back. My forehead still throbs. I’m like fuckin’ Harry Potter and shit.”

I sit up to get a better look at him. His hair is soft and smells like shampoo. It’s still damp in the front. I kiss the tiny scar. I kiss his forehead. His nose. His lips.

“I’m sorry I was a dick. I’m just more protective of my feelings than I’d thought.”

“You know,” I say. “You’re the first guy I’ve wanted to kiss since my last relationship.”

His smile quirks up some more. “Wait, does that mean I’m not the first?”

I cover his face with my hand and push him back. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“I’d hate to break it to you, but having a penis comes with instant idiocy. It’s in there waiting to burst. That’s why we jerk off so much, but there’s an infinite supply.”

“Gross.”

“This is happening really fast,” he says. “But every time I look at you, I just find it harder to stay away.”