Tears I can no longer fight back burn my eyes and my face crumples as a sob escapes me. This is all too much. I can’t take it. There’s nothing left to do but cry.
“Hey?” Max rubs my back. “You okay?”
I shake my head against my leg. “No.”
The thought of losing everyone I’ve ever cared about in one day hits me hard. Dad is everything to me. The one person I can always count on to be there for me. What am I going to do if what Grace says is true and he’s dying? I can’t lose him. Suddenly there’s no air and I find myself gasping.
“Hold on, Holl,” he says as he pulls the car over. Once we’ve stopped, I hear the seatbelt come loose. Max wraps his arm around me and attempts to tug me into a hug, but I won’t budge. “It’s going to be all right.”
“How do you know?” I cry. “Grace says my dad has HIV and Trip has just been using me. My life is fucked.”
I give in and allow him to pull me against him. “You don’t even know if what Grace said is true. Talk to your dad before you go into hysterics.”
I nod. “You’re right. I need to calm down.”
We’re silent for a moment, but then Max asks, “As far as Trip goes, I’m sure he has his reasons. Can you imagine what it must be like for him—everyone always wanting something from him because of who he is? He’s probably tired of all that. You should be open to what he has to say before you pass judgment, Holl. He’s been nothing but awesome to us…well, except for that first night in the bar. He was a little douchey to you then, but other than that…very cool.”
I pull back and wipe my face with my hand. “You don’t think he’s just using me for sex?”
Max shakes his head. “Jackson was the one that was doing that, not Trip. If he were just using you he wouldn’t have stuck around as long as he has, not to mention kicking Jackson’s ass to help me out. Do you know how big of a risk that was for him to do that for me? He risked being exposed to save me from a beating, and he didn’t even hesitate. If the press gets a hold of what happened it could trash his reputation and get him labeled as a loose cannon. That’s a good man in my book.”
This is true. Jackson would never have stuck his neck out for a friend of mine like Trip did, and we were together for two years. It still doesn’t answer the lingering question in my gut. “But he’s a fucking rock star. What in the hell is he doing wasting his time with me? He can have any woman he wants.”
Max gives me a sad smile and touches the underside of my chin. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, blondie. You’re an incredible person. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, and have one hell of a mouth on you. If I were straight, believe me, I’d be chasing you like crazy.”
I laugh. “If you were straight, I doubt you’d be this sweet.”
He chuckles. “You’re right. I’d probably gross you out on a daily basis with my tactics to get into your pants.”
“Eww,” I say and shake my head. “Don’t ever insinuate you want to get into my pants again. It’s creepy.”
“Deal.” He pulls back and smiles. “You ready to go home now?”
I lean my back against the seat. “Yeah. I need to get to the bottom of everything.”
“Things will work out, Holl. Have faith.”
Max hugs me goodbye and wishes me luck as he pulls up next to my house.
I shut the car door behind me and stare up at the house I’ve lived in all my life. The light is on in the living room. Dad is no doubt waiting to hear about the details of what happened down at the police station. He has no idea that the scrap that took place here today won’t be the main topic of our conversation when I come home.
If what Grace says is true, I’m not sure how I’m going to react. The thought of my father not being on this earth anymore is something I can fathom.
I glance around as Max pulls out of the driveway. The Mustang isn’t here, which is a relief. I don’t think I can deal with both issues at once.
I force myself up the steps and onto the porch. The doorknob is smooth in my grasp, but I can’t bring myself to turn it. Fear engulfs every inch of me and I begin to tremble. Turning around and avoiding the entire situation crosses my mind, but I know I can’t let this go forever. It’s not in my nature to move on without resolving an issue.
Before I have the chance to open the door on my own, Dad opens it from the inside. “Holly?” His eyes search the gravel lot behind me. “Honey, why are you just standing out there all alone? Where are Trip and Max?”
“Max gave me a ride home and I’m not sure where Trip is.” I stare over his shoulder into the house, and suddenly the thought of being cornered in there, hearing some possible life-shattering information, seems too much. I gesture to the bench seat on the porch. “Can we sit?”
“Sure.” Dad steps outside, concern written all over his pale face. The shadows created from the porch light make his cheekbones seem even more sunken. My eyes study his unsteady gait as he walks over and takes a seat.
He’s definitely weaker than I’ve ever seen him. I think deep down I stopped believing this was the flu a couple of months ago. No ordinary cold lasts this long. To be honest I was afraid he had cancer. Never in a million years did the idea that he might have a terminal illness that resulted from a sexually transmitted disease. But, I guess most people wouldn’t consider that.