“Yes.” I sit up straight on her bed, somehow still feeling like a perv for being here, even though her father is in the house too and we’re completely clothed and not anywhere near each other. “What’s happening?”
“Shelly is outside waiting for us.”
“Us? Plural?” I get up. They don’t know each other, but I’ve mentioned Shelly to Remi in passing a few times.
“She wants to tell us something. We’re going to the diner down the road. Are you ready?”
I already have my jacket on. This should be interesting.
I order coffee, but don’t drink it.
It’s funny how this diner is just down the road from my house, but I’ve been here maybe three times in my entire life. I sit across from Shelly. Pierce sits by my side. We haven’t spoken at all since we patched things up. Come to think about it, we haven’t even officially patched things up.
Nothing makes sense in my world anymore, or at least that’s how I feel. Not the part where Ryan died, and not the part where Pierce and I are okay somehow as a result. I now believe that he never meant to hurt me. I understand the ‘whys’ of it, and I know that he’s who I’m supposed to be with. I know it with every bone in my body, and now I need to trust it. To trust him. But, something is still holding me back.
Shelly looks rough. She needs five hundred meals inside her, a good shower, a haircut, and a lot of TLC to look human again. Her whole appearance screams drug addict. The shit that’s going on under her fingernails is probably toxic at this point. But all I see is Ryan, and I want to hug her. To help her.
“You don’t know me.” Shelly fiddles with a packet of sugar, but doesn’t touch her coffee either. She has her bag next to her. Some designer knockoff. I blink, staring at her blankly. “But I know you. Well, kind of know you, really.”
“Elaborate,” Pierce orders dryly. Shelly shifts in her seat. We’re sitting in a red classic booth of a diner. A waitress in a yellow uniform and white apron passes us by with a coffeepot and winks at Pierce as she pops her gum. I’m just about ready to explode.
“Well.” Shelly drops the sugar and falls backwards to the headrest. “The thing is…okay, well, let’s start from the beginning. Remington, Pierce’s sister Gwen used to be my roommate. She also used to be Ryan’s girlfriend.”
I don’t say a word. Just look at her. Ryan had a lot of girlfriends, so I’m not sure where this is going. She continues.
“Ryan used to talk about you. All the time. He was so proud of you. Said you and he were going to get out of this shithole together. He never used to use at first. Just sold. But once he started using, he became fixated on you. Obsessed, even. He turned violent. Manipulative. Deceitful. Before Gwen died…” Shelly chokes, and Pierce’s eyebrows dive down, so I gather he has no idea where she’s goin
g with this either. Shelly starts crying, grabbing a few napkins, and blowing her nose loudly.
“Gwen knew she was going to die. She planned it. She was so tired of fighting.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “She decided to use whatever money her parents gave her for food and rent and…life, I guess, to pay for your tuition. She hadn’t ever spoken to you, but she saw you around when she partied at your house with Ryan. Saw how he treated you. She said you reminded her of a tougher version of herself, and if she couldn’t save her own life, then she might as well try to help yours. When she told me all of this, I didn’t know she was planning to end her life, I swear,” she cries, looking up at Pierce, her eyes begging for forgiveness.
I see it now. The guilt. The regret. She wears it like a second skin. And I know the feeling all too well. My hands fall to the table with a slap, and my mouth hangs open, tears springing to my eyes.
“Impossible,” Pierce says, his voice quivering as he takes my hands in both of his.
“It’s true.” Shelly sniffs, producing something from her bag. A batch of wrinkled papers. Pierce takes them from her hand and frowns. I see my name there. I see Gwen’s name. I see all the details. She went to my dad and offered him money. He was skeptical, but she insisted that she wanted to stay anonymous, so he made up the bullshit story about saving up. It all makes sense, yet none of it does.
He’s lost his sister.
I’ve lost my brother.
And they were both connected with a tragic destiny.
Pierce lifts his eyes from the pages. “Gwen wanted me to meet Remi. She wanted me to take care of her.”
Shelly smiles a sad smile through her tears. “I don’t think that’s what she had in mind.” She gestures at our hands clasped together on top of the table.
Pierce shrugs and kisses my temple, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’ll take whatever she’ll give me.”
When we get back to my house, Pierce throws random shit into a suitcase for me, while I sit on my bed in a daze. He looks so out of place in my tiny room with its peeling paint and ancient, hand-me-down furniture.
Pierce informs my dad that he’ll be taking me back to his place, and not surprisingly, he doesn’t put up a fight. I know we’ll have to have a talk eventually, but now is not the time. Janice has been over non-stop, so I don’t feel guilty leaving him. It’s not like he’s ever beaten himself up over leaving me.
The ride to Pierce’s house is quiet, and the mood somber, but hopeful. I think we are both trying to work through what all of this means for us. I still can’t believe Pierce quit his job. But, he said it was never what he truly wanted to do, anyway. He said everything has a season, and that season of his life is over. His hand is firmly wedged between my thighs, not probing or wandering, and he gives my leg a firm squeeze. I look over at him—all inky black hair, eyebrows furrowed in thought, hardened jaw, perfect fucking lips—and I wonder what I did to deserve someone like him. Someone who fights for me. Makes sacrifices for me. Believes in me. I don’t know much about love, but if that’s not it, I don’t know what is.
“I love you,” I confess. And I do. So much that it physically hurts.
His head swivels toward me, an eyebrow lifts in amusement.