Me After You Read online

  “It wouldn’t be much of a sleepover without all that diabetes.”

  “Then I say we have ourselves a deal.”

  We stop by the drug store to stock up on junk food and head back to my house. The eating starts almost as soon as the chick flick marathon begins.

  “Are you ever going to give Aiden a break?”

  “Pshht. He doesn’t deserve a break.”

  “Felix, you like him. I know you do. And I can tell he likes you, too. So, he was a dumb boy. He didn’t cheat on you. He didn’t lie to you or lead you on. How do you know he was even on a date that night? Maybe he and Bridget were going out as friends.”

  “Then he should have explained himself. He saw me when he was with her, and he smiled, like hey, it was fun, but I can get a much hotter woman than you.”

  “Oh, Alix.” I laughed. “There is no way that, number one: his smile meant that, and number two: he thinks Bridget is prettier than you. You’re being dramatic.”

  She shrugs. “Whatever.”

  “You won’t even give him a little time of day?”

  “Nope.” She shoves popcorn in her mouth and keeps her eyes focused on the TV mounted on my wall.

  I leave it. I know she’s scared of really getting hurt. She’ll figure it out eventually.

  Three movies later, it’s two o’clock in the morning, and Alix is sprawled across my bed in a junk food coma. I shove her to one side and crawl in next to her. Apparently moving her was a bad idea. Darth Vader has returned. If she turned to me now and said, “Luke, koooohhhhh heeeeeee, I am your father,” I wouldn’t doubt her to be the real deal.

  Her throaty breathing makes it especially hard for me to fall asleep. I’m reminded as to why I rarely invited her to sleep over when we were younger and why I never slept over at her house. My mind stretches to remember the last time we did this, and I instantly remember why I’ve been trying to suppress that memory. It feels like both forever ago and yesterday.

  The bathroom tile is cold on my skin. It helps to alleviate the nausea. If you want to know what slowly dying inside feels like, I could probably tell you.

  “He’s really gone,” I choke. Alix rubs my back as I lay on the bathroom floor. The pain is excruciating. It runs through my veins, tearing them to shreds, crippling every part of my body. I didn’t know it was possible for the body to survive this kind of agony. “Is it my fault? Did I do this?”

  “No, it’s not your fault, Sawyer,” she murmurs. “You had no control over this.”

  “Why does it hurt so badly?” I curl further into the fetal position. But I know why. This is my punishment.

  “It’s probably going to hurt for awhile.”

  “Why did Dean leave me?” My words are hardly audible coming. It’s a wonder she can understand me. I clench the front of his Blink 182 shirt that I’m wearing. I can barely smell the scent of him on it anymore. It was the last piece of him that I had. “He’s supposed to be here with me.”

  “I know, but I don’t know if he’s coming back. You have to learn to live like he’s not coming back.”

  I wheeze. “I don’t want to live that way.”

  “I don’t think you have a choice,” Alix speaks softly, tracing her hand in a circular motion over my back and down my arm. But there is no relief. This is the kind of ache that will never die. No matter how hard I try, I know this will be the kind of pain that will stay with me forever. And no one will understand it but me.

  Alix reaches over and rubs my back. I don’t realize I’m crying until her shushing brings me back. “It’s okay to cry, Sawyer. Cry as much as you need to.”

  She thinks she understands why I’m crying, and I let her believe it’s because of Grayson, because I can’t bear the thought of telling her the real reason. I can’t talk about it. Not because she wouldn’t understand. She would probably start to cry with me if she knew, and I’m tired of making people feel sorry for me. I’ll get through this. I can do it on my own. I can. I’ve got this. I’ll be okay. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself, but I’m still waiting for the day I will feel okay. I don’t know how to fix me. I’m stuck in a whirlpool of misery that fights to drag me under, and I can’t get out.

  ***

  In the morning, we make pancakes. My eyes feel heavy and raw from my meltdown, but Alix leaves it alone. I silently thank her with my eyes, and she knows. My parents join us, and we eat breakfast peacefully. My mom notices my swollen eyes, but she keeps it to herself. Her eyes widen, but she forces her mouth shut.

  “They’re so sweet and fluffy. What did you do to make them this way?”

  “I beat the egg whites before whisking them into the batter.”

  She takes another bite and hums. “I should have you cook more often. You can be my little in-house chef.”

  “Just tell me when, Mama.”

  Alix leaves after breakfast, and our Sunday carries on much the same as breakfast. My parents and I sit quietly on our porch for a little bit with our sweet tea and enjoy the warm weather. Nothing heavy is discussed. We’re all playing a part in pretending everything is back to normal when we all know it’s not. Dad talks about the lives of some of our old family friends, and mom fills in the gaps that he misses. I pretend to care and listen, but don’t make many comments. Everyone’s lives keep on moving forward while mine stands still.

  DEAN

  I GRAB MY jacket and head for the front door. My dad is in his recliner in the living room, but if I’m quiet enough, I might get by without him noticing me since he’s got the TV blasting so loud. Unfortunately, the swipe of the lock isn’t drowned out enough.

  “Boy! Where do you think you’re going?” he hollers.

  I clear my throat and turn to see he’s still facing the TV. He couldn’t be bothered to turn around to talk to me. “I’m going out with Sawyer Hartwell.”

  “Phil Hartwell’s girl?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  My father spins the recliner around and grunts. “What does she want to do with the likes of you? Doesn’t she know you’ll amount to nothing?”

  I shrug to disguise my wince. “We’re just hanging out.”

  He takes a sip of his beer with a blank stare. His eyes see through me and slice into me at the same time. “I know what hanging out means.” He watches me for a moment without saying a word, staring me down, scanning my body with a look of utter disgust. “Does she know what you are?”

  I don’t know what he means by that so I don’t answer, thinking he’ll finish his thought, but I guessed wrong.

  “Answer me, you little piece of crap! She know what you are?” he demands.

  “I don’t know, sir,” I speak up, blinking away tears that threaten to surface.

  “You should tell her now before it’s too late. She should know how pointless it is to waste her time on you.”

  I don’t want him to see the tears that prick my eyes, so I clench my teeth and nod. I bolt through the door before he can call me back.

  My office phone rings, starling me back to the present. “Preston Motorsports,” I answer. “This is Dean.”

  “Hi, Dean. My name is Rob Dillon. How are ya doin’ today?”

  “I’m all right. What can I do for you, Mr. Dillon?”

  “Call me Rob, please.”

  “Okay, Rob. How can I help you?”

  “You are the owner of Preston Motorsports, correct?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I’ve got an offer for you, and I’m hoping I can take a minute of your time.”

  “Okay,” I say hesitantly.

  He laughs. “Don’t worry. This isn’t a sales call. I’m actually trying to do quite the opposite. I’ve heard a lot about your garage. You do good work.”

  “Thank you, sir. We do our best.”

  “Not many motorists in a fifty-mile radius go anywhere aside from your garage.”

  Huh. How did he know that? I didn’t know that. I mean, I know the garage does well, but… “Glad to hear it. I make sure to
have the best mechanics on hand. Bikes are our lives.”

  “I knew I’d like you, kid. Your policy, ‘We’ll have it done on time or it’s on us,’ is something I’ve never heard before. It’s bold. Most might actually think it’s a stupid move—business suicide.”

  “Well, we make it a point never to be late. I know that’s half the issue with people going to a mechanic. It’s never done when they say it will be done. It’s always more expensive than they anticipate. I like to make sure we have satisfied return customers.”

  “You’re smart, too. Jerry Drake had great things to say about you.”

  I nearly choke. “Jerry Drake? As in Drake Motor Industries Jerry Drake?”

  Rob chuckles. “He’s a good friend of mine. Apparently, he just bought a Streetfighter from you. And I’ve been in the market for a good investment business. He seems to think I’ve found the right place.”

  How had I not put two and two together?

  “I’d like to make you an offer for your garage.”

  “What kind of an offer?”

  “Well, I’d like to buy it. I want you working there, managing it, but I’d like to take the business end off your hands. I think you’ve really got an interesting concept going on and I’d like to expand it.”

  “I really appreciate the offer, Rob, but the garage isn’t for sale.”

  “I’ll pay you $300,000 for it. Cash.”

  If I had been drinking something, it would have come out my nose. “I’m sorry?”

  “It’s a generous offer. But I’m willing to negotiate.”

  I swallow. “With all due respect, sir, I’ve never had any interest in selling the garage. I just started it up a couple years back. It’s a passion of mine, and I enjoy what it is I do. I don’t think I could sit back as a manager and watch you do what you’d like with it.”

  “I can understand that. But I promise you, we could make Preston Motorsports more than you could imagine. I tell you what, I’ll give you $350,000 for it.”

  I pause to think. “That’s quite an offer, but I built this business up myself. It’d be very difficult to let it go just like that. I think I’m going to have to pass, Rob.”

  “$500,000 then,” he counters again.

  I run my hand down my face and sputter out a laugh. You’ve got to be kidding me. “If you don’t mind. I’m going to have to think about this proposal. It’s a big decision.”

  “I understand. I can be a patient man, Dean, but the offer will only stand for a few weeks, and then I will take my business elsewhere.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you. Have a nice day.”

  “You too.”

  When I get off the phone, I lean back in my chair and sigh in disbelief. I wish I could wake my dad from the dead and tell him that someone thinks I have the potential to amount to something in this town. Someone wants to see me succeed.

  SAWYER

  I WAKE UP to Alix’s ringtone the following Sunday. “Breakfast at Moment In Thyme?”

  “It’s 8:45, Felix,” I groan with my eyes closed. “It’s my only day off. I’m sleeping in.”

  “No, you’re not. I want some blueberry stuffed French toast, and I’m not about to go to Haley’s and look like a cow while I stuff myself all alone.”

  “Oh my gosh, Alix. Really?” I yawn.

  “Yes, really. If you’d ever had her blueberry French toast, you would understand. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” The tone in her voice leaves me no choice.

  “Ugh,” I grunt and throw my comforter off. “Fine. But this breakfast better be worth it.”

  “You know Haley’s food is always worth it.” I hear a click, sounding the end of our conversation before I can say bye.

  ***

  There’s only one table available in the very back of Moment In Thyme when we walk in, so we head that way. It isn’t until we’re halfway to the table that I see Dean and Lily, and I want to turn around and make Alix save me, but I’m so tired of being a coward. Alix doesn’t notice them until we’re almost passing their table, and she pinches my arm as if I haven’t already seen them.

  I flinch and hiss, “Ouch!”

  Dean looks up first. His eyes jump, but other than that he shows no telltale signs that he’s uncomfortable. I hope he’s uncomfortable.

  “Dean, Lily, how are you two this morning?”

  Lily lifts her head at the sound of her name. When she locks eyes with me, she’s visibly uneasy. I try to keep walking, but Alix holds me in place, enjoying watching them squirm.

  “Sawyer,” Lily says my name, breathless. “Hi.” She gets up awkwardly, her chair nearly falling backward. “It’s good to see you.” She’s coming at me for a hug, and I know I cringe, but that doesn’t stop her from putting her arms around me as if she’s still the best friend I had back in high school.

  I wish I could say the same. “It’s good to see you, too,” I lie.

  “It’s been a while. Like… five years?” she asks politely.

  “Something like that.” I attempt to smile, but I know it doesn’t look like one. The last time we talked, she was trying to tell me how Dean wasn’t worth any more thought. She was trying to convince me to move on with my life. She was the one that convinced me a move out of state was a good idea. And I agreed wholeheartedly. The skank was trying to eliminate the competition, as if she knew he would come back.

  “Lily couldn’t make y’all some breakfast on this fine Sunday morning? Her cooking can’t be that bad, Preston,” Alix taunts.

  “It’s always good to see you, Alix,” he says with an easy smile as he crosses his arms and calmly leans back in his chair. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t answer her question.

  “I wish I could say the same,” Alix repeats my thoughts verbatim.

  I can’t possibly stand to linger here and watch them for one more second so I say, “Have a good breakfast, you guys.” I grab Alix’s hand to pull her away.

  “Thanks,” Lily mumbles with a timid smile.

  “You too,” Dean says.

  Alix leans close to my ear. “That was probably much more fun for me than anyone else.”

  We situate ourselves at the far back table, my back purposefully facing the lovely couple. “You could have kept your mouth shut, and we could have walked by with the awkward I-know-you-saw-me-and-you-know-I-saw-you-but-we’re-going-to-ignore-each-other-anyway scenario.”

  “But that would have been too easy for them. They don’t deserve to be let off the hook.”

  I couldn’t say I didn’t agree with her, but I didn’t want them to see that they affected me. They shouldn’t affect me. Seeing them together doesn’t make sense. And every time I see them, it hurts more than I want to admit.

  “She’s trying so hard not to look our way, but the back of your head is obviously a magnet. I guarantee they leave soon.”

  As if on cue, I hear the scraping of their chairs against the black and white linoleum floor.

  “Cowards,” she mumbles, tucking her hair behind one ear. “Oh wait, Dean’s coming this way,” she hisses.

  My eyes bulge and my stomach drops. “What?”

  She doesn’t respond. Her eyes remain glued behind me as she watches him approach. “One woman not enough for you, Preston? I’m not sure this table can help you with that.”

  “Alix,” I hiss. I could strangle her.

  She closes her mouth, pursing her lips, unrepentant as she looks between Dean and me. She’s waiting for me to tell him to get lost, and though that idea is probably the right choice, I’m not going to.

  “Sawyer, can I please talk to you for a minute?” he asks, ignoring Alix. As he should. His voice is firm, but somehow uncertain. He assumes I’ll say no but is determined to ask me anyway.

  I rub my forehead, trying to come up with a reason why I can’t. But I can’t come up with anything on the spot other than simply not wanting to. But that would be a lie. I can’t lie to myself. I’m curious about what else he has to say, though I know I’m probably no
t going to want to hear it.

  “Sure,” I sigh. “Alix, will you give us a minute?”

  She looks at me incredulously until she realizes I’m not backing out. “Fine,” she concedes. “I’ll go order our coffee.”

  “Hot chocolate for me,” I say.

  She gives me a funny look, but doesn’t say anything more as she walks over to the counter and begins talking to Haley.

  “Hot chocolate, huh?”

  That’s definitely not a subject I want to breech, so I nod and ask, “Won’t the Missus be a little peeved you’re talking to me?” I look up at him. Every time our eyes meet it feels surreal.

  When you look into the eyes of the person you loved every day for years and are forced to stop cold turkey, you go through withdrawals. My body craved the touch of his gaze on me. It was never just a gaze. It was a promise of shooting stars and infinity of dandelion wishes.

  “She’s the one that suggested it,” he admits, sitting down across from me. I’m not sure if that makes me more irritated. No, I take that back. It definitely makes me more irritated. He wasn’t man enough to come on his own this time? “She thought you should know that nothing happened between us until about a year ago. I told her you probably already know that.”

  They’ve been together for an entire year? Somehow, that makes it worse. They’ve had a year of stolen glances and kisses and shooting stars, and oh my gosh, I think I’m going to be sick.

  “I really don’t care, Dean,” I manage to say. I’m trying so hard to hold his gaze and remain apathetic, but it hurts so much to look in his eyes when we’re this close and feel so far apart.

  “Are you sure about that.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement—a snarky one at that. I’ve been caught.

  I pause, stunned by his audacity. “Are you kidding me? Did you really just ask me that?”

  He opens his mouth, but nothing is spoken. He obviously regrets saying the words, but he can’t take them back now.