Ruined (9 page)

She was worried about talking to me? It makes no sense that anyone would worry about talking to me. Why would I matter that much to her?

Emmy stands up, gives me a quick hug and walks slowly toward her dorm. Something inside of me wells up out of nowhere.

"Hey, Em?" I call. Em? Where did that come from?

"Yeah?" she says turning around.

"Don't beat yourself up about this, okay? We live and learn. Learn from it and move on."

"Thanks," she says, and my Dr. Phil moment is over as she disappears around the corner.

Dinner with my mother and Bruce is always odd which is why I spend a lot of meals eating alone on my deck overlooking the ocean. The house is so big that it has never felt like a real home, and I always feel the watchful eyes of my mother when sitting at a table with her. There's too much between us. Too many raw, unsolved emotions and feelings lurking just under the surface. I think we both prefer to leave it that way - allow them to lurk but never come out into the light of day. Pretend they're not there, that's the way to continue living.

"So, Willow, are you interested in riding with us down to Atlanta to pick up Kellan tomorrow?" Bruce finally asks, cutting his eyes toward my mother.

"Um," I say softly, knowing my answer is really "Hell no, but thanks anyway".

"It's okay if you don't want to go," he says while my mother gives me a pointed look.

"Actually, it's not that. I have a test in broadcasting class tomorrow," I say, which is actually true.

"Oh. Got it. That is definitely important."
             

"Are you enjoying your classes?" my mother asks, trying to break the tension.

"Yes, I am. More than I thought I would," I say with a smile.

"Good. Maybe Kellan can take some classes there, Bruce," she says softly.

"Pam, really? The boy is just getting out of prison. He'll be lucky to work at the fast food joint down the street," he says gritting his teeth. I've never seen Bruce so keyed up before. He's normally pretty laid back.

"Surely you want him to have a chance to do well in life, Bruce?" Suddenly I feel like the third wheel in the room, so I just keep my head down and eat.

"Of course I do, Pam, but let's be realistic here. He killed people. Real people who had lives and dreams and family members who miss them. He took away lives, so how much of a life can he really have now?"

"He's served his time, Bruce."

"And was that enough?" he asks, which pierces my soul. I never served any time, and my mother shoots her eyes in my direction and then back down at her fork.

"How long should he suffer then? Should he just never get to start his life over? He was a kid who made a deadly mistake, but does he deserve a life sentence for it?" she asks, and that sends Bruce over the edge. He slams his fork down, stands up and storms out of the house. My mother's eyes well up with tears as she takes a deep breath and puts her face in her hands.

"Mom, it's okay..." I say as I scoot closer to her.

"He doesn't know about you, Willow. And this is exactly why I haven't told him. God, why can't life be easier?" she says to herself before standing up and walking out of the dining room. I hear her bedroom door close quietly, and I've never felt more alone in this huge house full of secrets.

***

Today is the day Kellan is coming home. Mom and Bruce left in the wee hours of the morning to drive to Atlanta. I have no idea what to expect, so I try to focus on other things. I have my first broadcasting test this morning which is basically to demonstrate what I've learned so far. No written tests in broadcasting class, but I do have to sit on the anchor desk and showcase my vocal talents.

To my surprise, Reed is standing outside the door to my classroom when I arrive.

"Hey," he says with a smile. He has such a nice smile, and it melts me a bit every time I see it.

"Hey, yourself," I say back.

"Listen, I need your help. Dexter still isn't back, and honestly I'm starting to wonder if he's coming back at all. There's a special we're running next week showcasing all of the sports events that Deaton has been involved in over the last decade. It's a big deal to the deans, so it has to get done and be ready to run by next Friday. There's no way I'm going to be able to catalog all of the footage by myself, edit it, produce it..."

"Say no more. I'd be glad to help, Reed. When do you need me?"

"Tonight. Maybe until the wee hours of the morning," he says with his hands clasped in front of his face as if he's praying that I can help him. I stare for a moment remembering the awkward and then angry conversation I witnessed at dinner with my mother and Bruce. Knowing that they'll be home with wayward Kellan Avery in a few hours, I make a quick decision to help Reed and stay out of the situation at home.

"No problem," I say with a smile. "See you around seven?"

"That would be great. Maybe we can grab dinner too?" The look on his face is different this time. He looks happy and maybe a little excited? I find it weird, but I don't have too much time to think before I need to head to my writing class.

As I walk to class, I text my mother, who is still in Atlanta.

Working at the station late tonight. Don't wait up.

***

When I arrive at the station, Reed is sitting in the editing booth up to his elbows in old tapes. He doesn't know I'm standing there, so I take a moment to absorb the sight of him. He's not overly muscular, but he has a nice build. He's not too tall, not too short. Just right. I almost laugh when I realize I sound like I'm retelling the Three Bears story.

He groans and smacks his hand on an empty tape case when something doesn't go quite right in the editing process. Such a perfectionist. I wonder if he wants to be, or if he does it in a constant quest to make his father proud.

"Hey," I finally say from the doorway. He turns around, and his blue eyes already look tired.

"Oh, hey," he says with a relieved smile.

"Help has arrived, although I'm not sure how much help I'll be," I say as I walk over and take the seat next to him.

"You're more help than you know, Miss Blake," he says as he bumps my shoulder with his. "I've grown tired of doing all of this alone most of the time. No one takes it as seriously as I do. I mean, I'm sorry about Dexter's grandmother, but he hasn't even checked in once. I had to track him down on a text message." Reed really does take this "job" seriously. But it isn't even really a job since he doesn't get a paycheck. I wonder how long his Dad will continue allowing him to live without expenses in Journalism school.

"So what can I do?"

"Take me to dinner," he says with a smile as he leans his head back and closes his eyes.

"How long have you been in this room, Reed? You look shot, and it's only seven."

"Four hours."

"What? Four hours? Why didn't you wait for me?" I ask slapping him on the arm.

"Because I didn't want to take up your whole evening. I'm sure you have better things to do."

"Not really. Trust me," I say rolling my eyes. "No more working for you, young man. Food. You need food. And drinks." I grab his hand and pull him up out of the chair.

"Why, Miss Blake, are you planning to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?" he asks as he stands up and throws an arm around my shoulder.

"Let's see how it goes," I say with a laugh as we turn off the lights and head for his car.

A few minutes later, we're walking into Surfers, a favorite local restaurant, bar and all-around hangout for local college students. Set right on the beach, the restaurant is usually loud and boisterous which is why most families stay away from it. On this night, trivia is the focus. Each table has a trivia box where anyone can answer the questions popping up on the big screen throughout the place. I've been here once with my mother since we moved to town, but she swore she'd never go back because it was too loud. Music blares tonight from the speakers, and someone is giving a terrible karaoke performance of "Wind Beneath My Wings". In fact, it sounds like a large turkey's wings are being crushed.

"Welcome to Surfers. Can I start you off with something to drink?" the perky blond waitress asks. Her shirt is two sizes too small, it seems, and her shorts would rival Daisy Duke.

"I'll take whatever you have on draft," Reed says before looking at me. "Are you drinking tonight, Miss Blake?" he asks with a crooked smile before looking back down at his menu. Oh no he didn't just do that, did he? Is he being sarcastic? He's not my parent. I don't need someone telling me what I can or cannot do.

"I'll have the same," I say smirking at him.

"Can I see your ID?" she says. Oops. World just stopped turning and Reed is trying not to break into hysterical laughter. He baited me for sure, and I obviously wasn't remembering that I'm nineteen and not able to drink legally yet. Well played, Reed Miller.

"I forgot it at home," I say without making eye contact with her. "I'll just have sweet tea." She walks away, smacking on her gum the whole time, and Reed starts cackling. "Not funny!" I say as I kick him under the table.

"Ow!" he yelps, and I feel kind of bad. Not really. "That was epic."

"I'll get you back for that one," I mutter as I look up at the trivia board. "I bet I'm better at trivia than you are." I am pretty good at trivia given that I spend vast amounts of time alone reading and watching TV. Surely I can wow him with my trivia skills and gain the upper hand in our strange friendship.

"Oh really? I doubt that."

"Aren't we a cocky one tonight?" Just as he raises an eyebrow at me, causing my heart rate to speed up, the server returns with our drinks.

"How about we make a friendly wager, Miss Blake?"

"I'm sure betting or wagering of any kind are not allowed in this establishment, Mr. Miller," I say cocking my eyebrow up as I sip my sweet tea.

"Live dangerously."

"Last time I lived dangerously, I almost lost my internship and ended up on your couch covered in hobo smell and smoke." He laughs, and I realize how deep his dimples are as heat rockets through my core.

"Here's what I propose. The first person to answer five questions right wins. If I win, you have to go up there and sing karaoke."

"Um, no. Ain't gonna happen, my friend," I say shaking my head.

"Come on. Put your money where your mouth is, lady."

"Okay fine. I am so sure I'll win that it won't be an issue. And if I win, you have to strip down to your boxers and run straight into the water out there in front of everyone."

"No way! And what makes you so sure I wear boxers? Or anything for that matter?" He winks, and again electric currents go straight into my girly parts and make me want to remove my own pants... right now.

"Can I take your order?" the server asks looking awfully irritated. How long has she been standing there anyway?

"Oh, I'll have a club sandwich," I say as Reed quickly orders his hamburger. We both laugh.

"Fine. I will strip down so you can see my rock hard pecs and abs of steel, and I will run into the water like the manly man I am." He's funny and sweet and smart. And he seems so safe. So secure. A stable place in my life of inner turmoil. If he only knew what the real me was like inside. It makes me sad for a moment, but as usual, I break free of the thoughts and carry on.