Return to Paradise (7 page)

TEN

Maggie

here's Caleb?" I ask Damon as we walk to the pizza place a few blocks away from the campus. He said a high school youth group is meeting us there, so their members can talk to us and hear our stories.

"He's gonna stay in tonight," Damon says. "I think he needs time to cool off and think about why he's here."

I sigh, knowing the truth of it all. "He doesn't want to be a part of this group."

"Yeah, well, he needs to be here nonetheless," Damon says as his cell rings. "He just needs to get a grip on his emotions."

As Damon takes the call, Matt is at my side. "You okay?" he asks.

I nod. "I'm kind of glad Caleb isn't coming with us."

"Me too."

I flash Matt a questioning look. "Why?"

"'Cause you seem upset when he's around." He shrugs sheepishly. "I don't like seeing you upset."

I put my arm around Matt and smile up at him. "Thanks for being a good friend," I say, leaning into his chest as we follow the others.

He puts his arm around me. "No prob."

It's nice knowing I have Matt here. During physical therapy we'd talk a bit, and complain about Robert, our physical therapist. Robert loves to push his patients to the limit whether they like it or not.

"Caleb's not such a bad guy," I tell him.

"I know," Matt says. "Caleb's cool. All of us have screwed-up shit we have to work out. Caleb just seems to have sunk deeper than we have."

"You seem to be handling your problems better than most of us on this trip," I tell him.

"I fake it. Truth is, I'm glad I'm here, but I've got to admit that some of those kids last night looked at me like I was a complete moron." He pauses, then adds, "Then again, I was a complete moron, but it's like going through it all over again. I wonder if I'll ever get used to the looks and the stares."

"I won't," I admit to him. "At first I was super selfconscious whenever I'd walk into a room ... I noticed all eyes on me. I still get the pity stares, which might be worse than your moron stares."

"Come on, Maggie. We both have obvious disabilities, unlike the rest on this trip. And we're both trying to get over our past relationships."

Matt stops and lets the others go ahead of us. "Can you imagine us as a couple?" he asks me.

I'm not sure if he's wondering how people would react to seeing a limping girl and one-armed boy together, or if he really is wondering if I could imagine dating him.

I've never thought about it before.

Matt's sweet.

He's cute.

He's a good guy.

But ...

"That was rhetorical question, wasn't it?" I ask.

He brushes a stray hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear. "Maybe. Then again, maybe not."

He leans down and I know he's going to kiss me. I should do it, if for no other reason than to give Matt a chance and prove to myself that I'm open to being with someone besides Caleb.

His lips meet mine and he wraps his arm around me. It's not passionate and hot like Caleb's kisses, but it's nice and safe and warm and ...

I pull away. "I can't."

Matt looks sad. "Maybe we're not ready to move on after all."

My cell phone in my purse starts ringing. I don't know if Matt is right or wrong. I like Matt ... I've always liked Matt. He's a great guy that any girl should be proud to date.

So why couldn't I kiss Matt without thinking about Caleb?

My phone rings again and I fish it out of my purse. It's probably my mom, since I'd left a message for her after I charged my phone in the suite. But when I look at the Caller ID, I feel a jolt of surprise. It's Leah Becker, Caleb's sister. We stopped being friends after the accident, but after Caleb left Paradise, we started talking again. Leah's emotions run high, and they're right on the surface. She's emotionally fragile and no longer the best friend I once knew. I hope she'll snap out of it at some point.

"Hey, Leah. I'm glad you called." I watch as Matt joins the rest of the group, giving me privacy.

"Hey, Maggie," Leah says softly. She's still got a lot of issues regarding the accident, and even though I've forgiven her, she hasn't actually forgiven herself. "How's the trip?"

"Good. We've only talked to one group so far, but it was okay. Right now we're staying at the dorms at Freeman University, right by the Wisconsin border. What have you been doing?"

Silence. Leah doesn't talk as much as she used to, so I pretty much hold up our conversations now. It's okay. I know it's part of her own healing process.

"Not much," she finally says. "Just hanging around, mostly."

That's pretty much all there is to do in Paradise in the summer. Some people take vacations, but most people stay in Paradise and never leave. I know two people who left Paradise-my father and Caleb.

That thought freezes me in my tracks, and I just stand on the sidewalk as the rest of the groups walks ahead of me. I stare blindly after them while the reality hits me: I get left behind by the men in my life who are supposed to love me.

I blink, and focus on the restaurant a half a block away. Everyone is out front, gesturing for me to get off the phone. I can't hang up with Leah without telling her, "Caleb's here."

"W-w-what do you mean?" she asks nervously.

"He's on the trip."

"With you?"

"Yeah."

"Why? How? Where has he been? Is he okay?" she asks, panic laced in her voice. "Okay, that's so weird. I really called you because I wanted to talk about Caleb and I didn't know who else to call besides you. How did you end up on the same trip as my brother?

"I don't know how it happened, exactly. I think he's been living in Chicago since he left town. He's changed, though. He's not the same." I don't tell her my goal is to get Caleb back to Paradise to work things out. Leah needs him. His family needs him. I thought I needed him, but now we're too different. I can't be emotionally involved with someone who resents the world and wants to push everyone away.

I hear hesitation in Leah's voice as she says, "I always used to think an ESP thing between twins was something people made up. But I couldn't sleep the past few nights, Maggie. I swear Caleb is in trouble, or really unhappy. I feel his pain as if it's my own. That's stupid, isn't it?"

"No, it's not stupid," I tell her. I believe anything is possible. It's probably because I'm an over-emotional person. It's one of my flaws.

"Do me a favor, will you?"

"What is it?" I ask.

"Take care of him, Maggie. Promise me you'll watch out for my brother," she says almost desperately.

Watch out for him? Caleb is strong enough, if not emotionally than definitely physically, to take care of himself.

"Don't worry, Leah," I tell her. I swallow a lump in my throat and temporarily push away my newfound resolve to let go of Caleb once and for all. "I'll make sure he stays out of trouble."

ELEVEN

Caleb

ou're a great dancer," Brandi says as we walk outside after we unload a beer bong in the kitchen. This girl is no stranger to beer bongs, I'll tell you that much. She's a damn pro.

I mumble, "Thanks."

She holds on to my elbow to steady herself and looks up at me with big brown eyes. "You know what they say about good dancers, don't you?"

Sure I know, but I want to hear the explanation come through Brandi's little lips ... so I've got to ask. "What do they say?"

She gives me a wicked smile and giggles. "Good dancers are good in bed."

Brandi's words make me feel like a rock star. She definitely feeds my bruised ego.

"Wanna test that theory?" I ask. Okay, I'm officially drunk.

She bites her bottom lip, assessing me like a car. I wonder if she thinks I'm a Chevy or a Rolls Royce. She leans in and whispers in my ear, "I'm a good dancer, too."

I pull this sexy girl close. Her arms wrap around my neck and she presses against me. It's a hint of more to come. I'm gonna let myself enjoy Brandi. She's a surefire solution to this pity party I've been throwing myself for way too long. No doubt she's gonna make me forget about Maggie and everything else.

I don't know how much alcohol I have in my system, but it's enough to make my head swim and make me believe the only girl I'm interested in is the one pressing her hot body against mine, which is good. Very good.

"Let's go to your place," I tell her. I don't think Maggie or Damon would be too appreciative if they came back and caught me gettin' it on with a girl. And if Lenny found us ... hell, the guy might be demented enough to ask to join in the fun.

She leads me down the quad, tripping a couple of times. I steady her and she calls me her hero. Yeah, right. We stagger past the place I played football earlier, but she stops when we get to Dixon Hall.

"You live here?" I ask her as I fight the sobering thought that we might get caught by the Re-START posse.

"Yeah. Don't worry, though. My roommate is out for the night."

She leads me up the stairs to the second floor. Damn. Her room is just down the hall from ours. Brandi doesn't have a suite like the one I'm in-hers is just a small dorm room with two single beds.

I watch with lazy eyes as she stumbles over to the bed and unbuttons her shirt. She watches me with raised eyebrows as she pushes the material aside like curtains being opened to let in the daylight sun, revealing a lacy black bra that doesn't hide much. I like easy girls who don't expect me to be one of the good guys. If they wear lacy black bras, all the better. I whip my shirt off and walk toward her.

"Your tattoo is so sexy," she purrs as we lie on the bed together. "It's like black fire." I got my tattoo in Chicago as a symbol of my rebellion.

Being here with Brandi is a symbol of my rebellion, too.

We haven't kissed yet. I'm not sure I even want to kiss her. And while that thought should be alarming me, I don't think about it too hard because (1) it's damn difficult to think straight when you're drunk, and (2) she maneuvers around to straddle me and my mind goes blank.

She traces the tattoo on my biceps with her fingers. "Wanna see mine?"

"Sure."

She kneels above me, turns around, and pulls down the back of her pants. Sure enough, she's got a tattoo of a red unicorn with rainbow wings right above her ass crack.

"Nice," I say, but I'm starting to feel anxious so I add, "Show me what else you've got." We'd better get this party started because I should go back to my own room soon. I better not be missing when Damon and the rest of the crew comes back.

Brandi licks her heart-shaped lips as she twists back around and unbuttons her low-slung pants. "I like a guy who knows what he wants. What do you want, Caleb?"

"I'm up for anything and everything."

"Me too," she says, raking her nails down my chest and moving lower. And lower. It hurts, and I think she's scratching off a layer or two of my skin. She slithers down my body, and I decide I don't care.

I lie back, welcoming what I know will come next. As her expert hands unsnap and unzip my jeans, then free me from confinement, I watch, my head spinning. She's having no problem focusing, even though she's as wasted as me. Everything she does is so well orchestrated; this girl is a total pro at more than just beer bongs. I close my eyes and tell my lower region to enjoy the attention.

I am definitely into this.

Way into this.

To say I'm turned on right now is an understatement of mega proportions. I'm just not sure if it's a problem that behind my eyelids I'm imagining a girl who limps and hates me...

Maggie.

"What did you just say?"

Huh? "What?" I open my eyes and look down at Brandi, poised above my unzipped pants.

"Did you just call me Maggie?" she asks accusingly.

"No." Whether I did or didn't, Brandi is definitely not Maggie. "Sorry," I add lamely.

She shrugs. "That's okay."

Without hesitation, she reaches into her side table drawer and pulls out a little plastic bag. She picks out a yellow pill with a smiley face on it, pops it in her mouth, and breathes in slowly as she savors the taste. "Here, take an Adam," she says, holding another one out to me.

I look at the pill. "What's an Adam?"

"You know, Ecstasy. Take it and put it under your tongue. I promise you won't think about anything else but having a good time with me."

Sounds great. I sit up and take the pill from her. If taking this little thing can make me forget everything except having a good time, I'm all for it.

But as I'm about to pop it into my mouth, I think about my mom. My mom is a prescription drug addict. Getting shitfaced drunk is bad enough, but taking pills ...

Fuck.

Ingesting pills takes this thing to an entirely different level. I hand the pill back to her. "I can't do this."

"Do what?" she asks hesitantly.

I move out from under her and pull up my jeans. "I don't know. I need a minute."

"For what?" she asks, now completely confused.

Good question. I look Brandi up and down. She's totally got it goin' on. She's beautiful and has a rockin' bod ... but she's not Maggie. And while I don't want Maggie, or can't have Maggie, or whatever the hell it is that I can't put into a coherent thought because I'm drunk, this isn't gonna work unless I can pull it together.

"Where's the bathroom?" I ask.

"Down the hall. You okay? If you're thinking about buying protection out of the bathroom dispensers, you don't have to worry. I've got some."

I head out the door and mumble, "I'll be right back."

I stumble over to the guys' bathroom and lean over one of the sinks. This sucks. I should be enjoying my night off. Instead, I'm a moody drunk. I look into the mirror in front of me, and it makes me feel worse. I run my hand through my messed-up hair and wonder if I should shave it all off like they did in juvie, 'cause right now I'm not just a moody drunk ... I'm a moody drunk who looks like shit.

What's worse is I feel as bad as I look.

I splash water on my face to help bring me out of this mood, but it's no use. Brandi was turning me on, but it wasn't Brandi making me hard. It was thoughts of Maggie. Twisted, I know. There's no way I can go through with this thing with a girl who's just a stand-in.

I head back toward her room. She's probably tripping by now and ready for some serious action. I hope she's not too pissed I'm skipping out on her XTC party early.

In the hallway, just as I've got my hand on Brandi's doorknob, I hear Maggie's voice from behind me say, "That's not our suite, Caleb."

I look toward the girl who's been haunting my nights ever since I was locked up in jail. The girl who just ruined my sexual escapade with Brandi without even knowing it. She's got hazel eyes that change with her mood, so different from the girl I was lying in bed with a few minutes ago. And while Maggie looks damn hot to me, I doubt she has any unicorn tats above her ass or wears lacy black bras. I'd like to find out, though.

"I know," I say.

Maggie limps over to me, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Then what are you doing out in the hall without a shirt on?" She looks me up and down. "And why are your, um, pants unbuttoned ... and unzipped?"

The door to Brandi's room opens and Brandi appears. Her hair is mussed, her pants are undone and hanging loosely on her hips, and she's got her shirt clenched against the front of her bra. I'm screwed.

"Oh," Maggie mumbles, obviously getting her answer without me having to say a word.

"There you are," Brandi says with a smile, then looks over at Maggie. "Who are you?"

"His gir friend," Maggie answers with a stern, straight face.

Brandi looks from Maggie to me, then back to Maggie. "You're kidding, right?"