Two years later . . .
Shelburne Falls was an average-sized town in northern Illinois. Not too small but barely big enough to have its own mall. To the naked eye, it was picturesque. Sweet in its no-two-homes-are-alike originality and welcoming in its can-I-help-you-carry-your-groceries-to-the-car kind of way.
Secrets were kept behind closed doors, of course, and there were always too many prying eyes. But skies were blue, leaves rustling in the wind sounded like a natural symphony, and kids still played outside rather than staying inside zoned out on video games all of the time.
I loved it here.
But I also hated who I was here. When I had left for college two years ago, I made a promise to spend every day trying to be better than I was. I was going to be an attentive girlfriend, a trustworthy friend, and a perfect daughter.
I rarely came home, choosing to spend last summer counseling at a summer camp in Oregon and visiting my roommate, Nik, at her home in San Diego. My mother got to brag about my busy lifestyle, and my old friends really didn’t seem to miss me, so it all worked out.
Shelburne Falls wasn’t a bad place. It was perfect actually. But I was less than perfect here, and I didn’t want to come home until I could show all of them that I was stronger, tougher, and smarter.
Yeah, that shit blew up in my face.
Not only did I breeze into town much sooner than I wanted, but it was on the heels of a court order. Awesome impression, K.C.
My phone rang, and I blinked, sucking in a breath as I came out of my thoughts. Adjusting the covers, I sat up in bed and slid the screen on my pink iPhone.
“Tate, hi.” I smiled. “You’re up early.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” Her cheerful voice was a relief.
“You didn’t.” I swung my legs out of bed and stood up, stretching. “I was just getting up.”
Tate had been my best friend all through high school. She still was, I guess. During senior year, I may have pissed her off a little. Okay, for sure I pissed her off. A lot. Ever since then, she’s kept about two feet of personal space between us when I’m around, and I don’t blame her. I messed up, and I hadn’t manned up to ask for her forgiveness.
She’d rolled with it, though. I guess she figured that I needed her more than she needed me to say I was sorry.
All in all, I was positive of two things. She loved me. But she didn’t trust me.
She was chewing something as she spoke, and I heard a refrigerator shut in the background. “I just wanted to make sure you got settled in okay and that you’re comfortable.”
I pulled my white cami back down over my stomach as I walked to the French doors. “Tate, thank you so much to you and your dad for letting me crash here. I feel like a burden.”
“Are you kidding?” she burst out, her voice high-pitched in surprise. “You’re always welcome, and you’ll stay for as long as you need.”
After I’d gotten in to Shelburne Falls last night—by plane and then by cab—I’d made quick work of unpacking all of my clothes in Tate’s room, showering, and inventorying the cabinets for any food I might need. Turns out, I needed nothing. The cabinets and the refrigerator were crammed full of fresh food, which was weird, considering Tate’s dad had been in Japan since May and would be there until fall.
“Thanks,” I offered, dropping my head. I felt guilty at her generosity. “My mom may warm up as the summer progresses,” I appeased.
“What’s her problem?” Her honest question threw me.
Oh, where to start?
I let out a bitter laugh as I opened up her white French doors to let the fragrant summer breeze in. “My police record doesn’t match her lily-white living room. That’s her problem, Tate.”
My mother lived only a few blocks away, so it was funny that she actually thought she’d escape gossip by not letting me stay at home while I completed my community service. Those Rotary Club bitches were going to be on her case either way.
That wasn’t funny. I shouldn’t laugh.
“Your ‘police record’,” Tate mimicked. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Don’t tease me, please.”
“I’m not,” she assured me. “I’m proud of you.”
Huh?
“Not for breaking the law,” she was quick to add. “But for standing up for yourself. Everyone knows I’d probably have a police record if not for Jared and Madoc tossing their weight around. You make mistakes like everyone else. Deal with it.”
I stayed quiet, knowing she was trying to make me feel better. But then I shook my head as I inhaled the clean morning air. Everyone may make mistakes, but not everyone gets arrested.
I could do better. A lot better. And I would.
Straightening my back, I held the phone with one hand and inspected the fingernails of the other.
“So when will you be home?” I asked.
“Not for a few weeks. Madoc and Fallon left for a vacation yesterday to Mexico, and Jared’s at Commando Camp until July first. I’m going to visit my father next week, but for now, I’m taking the opportunity while Jared is away to pretty up the apartment.”
“Ah,” I mused, staring absently through the trees to the house next door. “Here come the scented candles and throw pillows,” I teased.
“Don’t forget the frilly toilet seat covers and accent lamps.”
We laughed, but I was forcing mine. I didn’t like hearing about their lives, which I hadn’t been a part of. Jared and Tate were going to college and living together in Chicago. He was in ROTC or something and was off on a monthlong training session in Florida. His best friend, Madoc—a fellow classmate of mine from high school—was married already and going to college in Chicago with Jared, Tate, and his wife, Fallon, whom I’d met once.
They were all some sort of little gang that I wasn’t a part of anymore, and suddenly a weight settled on my heart. I missed my friends.
“Anyway,” she continued, “everyone will be home before the Fourth of July. We’re thinking of a camping trip, so do yourself a favor. Get ready. Be wild. Don’t shower today. Wear a mismatched bra and panty set. Go get a hot bikini. Be. Wild. Got it?”
Hot bikini. Camping. Tate, Fallon, Jared, and Madoc and their wild ways. Two couples and me the fifth wheel.
Riiiiight.
I looked across at the darkened house next door, where Tate’s boyfriend had once lived. His brother, Jax, used to live there, too, and I resisted the urge the ask Tate about him.
Wild.
I shook my head, tears pooling in my eyes and teeth cementing together.
Tate. Jared. Fallon. Madoc.
All wild.
Jaxon Trent. Wild.
The silent tears dropped, but I stayed quiet.
“K.C.?” Tate prompted when I said nothing. “The world has plans for you, whether you’re ready or not. You can either be a driver or a passenger. Now, get yourself a hot bikini for the camping trip. Got it?”
I swallowed the Brillo Pad lodged in my throat and nodded. “Got it.”
“Now, go open the top drawer of my dresser. I left two presents in there when I was home this past weekend.”
My eyebrows pinched together as I walked. “You were just home?”
I wished I hadn’t missed her. We hadn’t seen each other in about a year and a half.
“Well, I wanted to make sure it was clean,” she answered as I headed to the opposite wall to her dresser, “and that you had food. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay to greet you, though.”
Yanking open the drawer, I immediately froze. My breathing halted, and my eyes went round.
“Tate?” My voice squeaked like a mouse’s.
“You like?” she taunted, the smirk on her face evident through the phone.
I reached in with a shaky hand and took out the purple “Jack Rabbit” vibrator still in its clear plastic packaging.
Oh, my God.
“It’s huge!” I burst out, dropping both the phone and the vibrator. “Shit!”
Scrambling, I snatched the phone off the rug and hugged myself as I laughed. “You’re crazy. You know that?”
The delighted sound of her laughter filled my ears, and I had gone from tears to laughter in no time.
There was a time when I was more experienced than Tate. Who knew she’d be buying me my first vibrator?
“I have one just like it,” she told me. “It’s getting me through Jared’s absence. And the iPod has angry rock music,” she pointed out.
Oh, that’s right. I peered into the drawer again, seeing the iTouch already opened with earbuds wrapped around it. She must’ve already loaded music onto it.
“It will help you forget that asshole.” She was talking about Liam, and I realized that I’d barely thought of my skeezer ex-boyfriend.
“Maybe it will help me forget K. C. Carter,” I teased.
Bending down, I picked up the vibrator and kind of started to wonder what kind of batteries it took. “Thank you, Tate.” I hoped my voice sounded genuine. “If nothing else, I already feel better.”
“Use them both,” she ordered. “Today. Also, use the word motherfucker at some point. You’ll feel a lot better. Trust me.”
And then she hung up without a good-bye.
I stared at the phone, confusion shredding my smile.
I’ve said motherfucker. Just never out loud.