Penelope Douglas - Until You

“Yes, now,” he shot back, turning to walk back to his house, assuming I’d follow.

Which I did. If only to get him to stop busting my balls.

Traipsing behind him into his open two-car garage, I immediately halted with the disaster in front of me.

“What the hell happened?” I burst out, shocked.

The fully restored Chevy Nova that had sat in this garage for as long as Tate and Mr. Brandt had lived here was completely totaled. Well, not completely. But it was a fucking wreck. It looked like it’d been used in a baseball game between King Kong and Godzilla. Windows were shattered, tires slashed, and that was the easy stuff. Dents the size of basketballs covered the door panels and hood, and the leather seats were cut up.

“Happy Birthday.”

I jerked my head over at him and pinched my eyebrows together in confusion. “Happy Birthday? Are you crazy? This car was in great shape yesterday. Now you’ve turned it into a piece of junk, and I can have it?”

Not that I needed a car. Jax would get mine as soon as he turned sixteen and got a license, and I’d be buying another car any day now with the money from my grandfather’s house.

“No, you can’t have it. You can fix it.”

Gee, thanks.

“I figured you might need a little automotive therapy after today, so I decided to break out the sledgehammer and invent a project for you.”

Were all of the adults in my life on fucking crack?

James walked towards me, to the front of the car. “All that shit you feel, Jared…the frustration, the anger, the loss, whatever it is…” he trailed off and then continued, “it’s going to find a way out eventually, and you’re going to have to deal with it someday. But for now, just keep busy. It won’t cure anything, but it will help you calm down.”

Slowly walking around the car, taking in the damage and already compiling the materials I would need in my head, I figured it made sense. I still didn’t feel any better than I had a month ago, and I had no idea what to think of the things my father had said today. If anything, I felt worse now, but I just didn’t want to think about anything anymore.

But Jax needed me, and I couldn’t fail him.

Just keep busy.

“This is going to take me months.” I peered over at him as I leaned on the hood.

He smiled back and then turned to walk into the house. “I’m counting on it.”

So I dove.

Deep.

Day after day. Month after month, I fed off the routine. I buried myself in activity and noise, so I wouldn’t have time to think about anything. So I wouldn’t have time to care.

I stayed in Tate’s room. I slept on the floor.

My mom got sober. Then, she got a boyfriend.

I got another tattoo. Madoc got a piercing….somewhere.

I went to class, and my grades improved.

James and I took a tour of West Point. It wasn’t for me.

My father continued messing with my head. Sometimes I walked out. Sometimes I didn’t. Sometimes we played cards, so I wouldn’t have to hear that motherfucker speak.

The dreams kept me awake at night, but the pills helped.

I bought a Boss 302. It kept me occupied.

I messed around with some girls. No blondes.

Madoc and I started racing at The Loop. Something else to keep me busy.

Jax got a decent home. I saw him every Sunday.

I had parties at my house. More noise.

Mr. Brandt was sent to Germany to work. Tate wasn’t coming home.

They got rid of the Heartland Scramble at Denny’s. Fine. Fuck. Whatever.

Everything rolled off of me, because none of it mattered.

Until eleven months later on a hot, August night when a girl with stormy eyes and sunshine hair breathed air and fire back into me again.

“Piper, come on!” I shouted out to the lake. “Storm’s coming. Let’s hit the road.”

“Don’t go,” Madoc spoke up from behind me. “Come over to my house. We’re taking the party there.” He laid on a picnic blanket on the rocky beach, cuddled up to some girl whose name he probably didn’t know, while Love-Hate-Sex-Pain by Godsmack played from the stereo of my car off in the distance.

We came out to Swansea Lake with about six people this afternoon, to swim and hang out, but the party had grown to more than twenty-five before it got dark. I had to work at the garage in the morning, so I was using that as my excuse to leave.

Truth was, I was just bored. I no longer drank in public. Going to parties. Passing out at strange houses. None of it seemed enticing when I wasn’t getting wasted, and I no longer thought about what enticed me. I only thought about what passed the time.

“Oh, baby,” Madoc groaned to the girl next to him. “Snickers ain’t the only thing king sized.”

I smiled to myself, wishing I could live in his skin. Every day was his birthday, and he was five years old, jumping in the ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese. I didn’t even need to turn around to know that that line had worked. The girl was giggling, and I was ready for my own action.

“You’re not taking me home right away, are you?” My current toy, Piper, trudged out of the lake, flinging water every which way as she wrung out her long, dark hair.

Yeah, I’m a dick. She wasn’t a toy, I know. None of them were. But, my car had more of a relationship with me than they did, so that made them the passing amusement.

Piper was going to be a Senior like us, and I’d seen her around school for years, but she never caught my interest. She was clingy and way too obvious. She knew she was beautiful, and she thought it mattered.

Yep, I had zero tolerance for her. Until…I found out on the Fourth of July that her dad was the asswipe who arrested me last year. The douchebag cop that shoved his knee into my spine and rubbed my face into the floor when he’d handcuffed me.

Yeah, then she became something for me to play with.

“What do you think?” I asked, not really asking. She had an amazing body, and I loved that she was pretty much into anything. As long as she didn’t talk too much, we kept hooking up.

“Hey, you know what today is?” Madoc laughed, breaking me out of my thoughts and slurring his words. “One year ago today, that girl Tate broke my nose at that party. Oh, she was fucking pissed, too.”

I tensed but continued pulling on my T-shirt, not looking at anyone.

“Jared, isn’t she supposed to be back by now?” Madoc asked. “I mean, wasn’t she only supposed to be gone for a year?” he pointed out as if I were stupid. “It’s been a year.”

“Shut up, dickhead.” Rolling my eyes, I reached down to pick up my wet clothes. I’d already gone into the nearby woods to change into jeans before calling Piper out of the water.

“What’s he talking about?” Piper just stood there, but I didn’t spare her a glance.

“Tate. Jared’s neighbor,” Madoc offered. “She goes to our school, but she left for junior year,” Madoc offered and then turned to me. “So, where is she? I miss that girl.”

He sat up, and even though I buried my face in my phone, I knew he was watching me.

Idiot. Dick. Fucking asshole friend.

I shook my head. “Her dad’s working in Germany, okay? He got put on an assignment there for seven months and won’t be home until December. He said she’ll be starting the school year there. Alright, dickhead-that-has-to-be-in-everyone’s-business?”

Mr. Brandt’s company had sent him to Germany last spring, so I’d been checking on the house and collecting mail since May.

Madoc looked at me like I just told him he couldn’t have ice cream for dessert. “Bummer, dude. But she’s probably thrilled,” he added. “She hated us.”

A twinge of amusement crept into my chest. Yeah, she sure did.

When Mr. Brandt had told me about his trip, I’d had another party at my house that night. Instead of getting drunk elsewhere, I had no problem getting wasted at home. And it helped.

I’d expected Tate to be back from France this past June when the school year ended, but when I found out that she wouldn’t be back until December now, I wanted to slam someone against a wall.

I loved hating her, and I wanted her fucking home.

But I just swallowed the ache like I’d been doing since last fall. I’d gotten used to going through the motions and pretending that shit didn’t matter.

And it was time to dive deep again.

“Let’s go.” I grabbed Piper’s hand and started for my car.

“But I’m still wet. I need to change,” she whined.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling, “and I’m going to help.”

The roads were slick as hell. It hadn’t rained much this summer, and all of the oil buildup on the street had me constantly fishtailing.

But it’s not like I had the sense to slow down, either.

I sped up onto my driveway and into the garage, even though I knew I shouldn’t be in a rush. Nothing waiting for me but quiet at my house, and I didn’t like quiet.

Closing the garage, I walked through the door leading to the kitchen, peeled off my black T-shirt, and threw it into the laundry room basket. Piper was all over it.

“Hey, man,” I greeted Madman as he came racing down the stairs. “Come on.”

Opening the backdoor so he could do his business, I left it open and ran upstairs to plug in my dead cell phone.

As soon as I’d turned it on, I saw that I had a voicemail from Tate’s dad.

Why is he calling?

We’d just texted a few days ago. He’d checked in on me and his house.