The Unlucky Ones, page 2
“Do you need anything?” I helped lift my mom’s limp form on the bed. She snuggled into her pillow as I covered her in blankets.
“No, I just want to sleep.” Her voice sounded void of any emotion. “Did you talk to your sister?”
“I will try to call her again.”
My mom nodded, sharing a look with me. She understood how Amelia was.
“Rest, Mom. I’ll be right here.”
“No.” Mom’s dull hazel eyes darted to me. “I know you were supposed to meet Skylar…please go.”
“Mom, I am not leaving you.”
“All I am going to do is sleep.” She wrapped her hand around my fingers. “Please, Devon. I want you to. You need your best friend right now. I promise I will be fine.” She held my gaze. “Go.”
I hated the thought of leaving her, but the need to get away also tugged at my heels.
“I’ll be upset if you don’t. Make me happy and go have dinner with Skylar. Laugh, talk, cry. This will all be here waiting for you.”
I blinked away the tears. The way she spoke, she was already treating herself like a burden.
“Mom…”
“Go. Devon. Please.”
I nodded, leaned over and kissed her head. “Okay, but if you need me for anything, please text or call me.”
“I will.” She squeezed my hand, letting her lids flutter closed. Leaving her with a glass of water and her cell on the nightstand, I jumped into my run-down Toyota, the tires kicking the gravel as I zoomed for the other side of town. The evening wind swirling through the open window held a note of cooler weather to come. The late-autumn sun dipped toward the mountains.
A fleeting thought ran through my mind to keep driving. And never turn back. That was not who I was. I didn’t run. But if I thought nothing more could happen to me today, or if I smartly assumed my bad luck had more in store for me, I would have kept driving.
Chapter Two
I skidded my car to a stop next to Sue’s compact pickup truck, which was coated in dust. She owned the restaurant, creatively named, Sue’s Diner, so if the lights were on, she was there. I bit down on my lip, my gaze following the bodies moving around the restaurant. This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t be here.
My cell dinged with a message from Skylar: Too late. I see you sitting there debating.
I shook my head with a snort. Ever since we became friends in preschool, I never could get away with anything. But I think if she knew what kind of news I was bringing, she’d want me to drive away now. My shock had kept me from texting her or Cory, and we told each other everything.
Well, in this town it was going to get out soon enough.
I blew out through my mouth and got out of the car, pointing my feet toward the entrance. The diner was full of the usual locals, with some tourists sprinkled in. The lone thing keeping this town on any map was its close proximity to the Colorado border one way and skiing in the mountains the other. The diner also got rave reviews for its food, but we were neither a kitschy stop nor an interesting historical destination. Those were a few towns over.
The chime on the diner door announced my arrival. Working here, I had begun to respond to it like a dog expecting a bone, hoping for another big-tipping table to help pay the electricity bill.
Familiar heads swung my way, eyes burning into me. All chatter stopped as everyone froze in place. It took a moment for the tourists, who were looking around in confusion, to pick up on the silence.
“Oh my god…Devon,” Skylar’s choked voice sailed from our usual booth, her hazel eyes filled with tears. She hustled toward me on long legs and wrapped her outstretched arms around me, squeezing me tight. She wore one of the dresses she had painted herself, swirls of oranges, reds, purples, and blues spreading from her hip across her body as if a desert sunset exploded. It was so Skylar. Unique, vibrant, and beautiful. She was the child of two artists. They divorced when she was a kid. Her dad lived and worked in an artist shop in Santa Fe, where various artists rented out spots to sell their work in his shop. It helped pay rent while he painted canvas landscapes of New Mexico. Her mom sold jewelry she created from all kinds of recycled items to sell to vendors. “I am so sorry.”
“How?” I whispered, my best friend’s embrace melting the numbness, my lids fluttering with the currents of pain.
“Jody told her sister, who told Kelly, who told Alejandro.”
My eyes darted through an opening to the kitchen, the chef’s face popping through, his brown eyes soft with sorrow. Alejandro was an excellent cook, which was why we had so many tourists stopping on their way through. We might have been the only diner where the chef treated all his food as if it were a five-star restaurant.
It shouldn’t have been a shock that everyone already knew about Mom. Most of the time I felt trapped by the smallness of this town, but today I appreciated I didn’t have to talk. I could simply nod as their apologies and promises of baked goods flooded in.
“I can’t believe this.” Skylar held on to me, her embrace soothing the icy walls I’d thrown up back at the doctor’s office. “I-I can’t…not your mom.”
I stepped back, my throat tight, but I was not ready for sorrow to take me. If I let too much in, it would settle into every pore and drown me.
My best friend since we were three, she brushed the tears trickling down her face, her porcelain skin splotchy with grief, and tucked her long strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. The moment her mother moved them here after a sticky divorce into the house down the street with her grandparents, we became immediate friends. My house was her house and vice versa.
We were both lean and about the same height, but that was where our similarities ended. Her pale skin and red-blonde hair were a beacon for the boys around here, even though she was only interested in the guys passing through town. She would wrinkle her nose at the prospect of dating any of those we grew up with. She was the ultimate trophy or treasure to date. Our other friend Jasmine was close behind, bringing more notice to our unique trio. Half Asian, half Caucasian, she was tiny with beautiful dark hair and eyes. The three of us caused a lot of attention, our differences standing out here.
Skylar had been there when my mom had a couple of her episodes after Dad died seeming to struggle in our conversations with finding the right words and being confused as to where she was. Skylar would always reassure me Mom was just grieving. I had held on to this belief so tightly, even when it felt I was trying to hold water.
“Oh, Devon, honey.” Jennifer shuffled up to me, the material of her waitress’s outfit stretching dangerously thin as she held her arms open to me. She was all of five feet with boobs the size of two toddlers playing hide-and-seek in her bra. In her early forties, she was the mother hen and always had a warm hug and smile waiting, no matter what was going on in her life.
I pressed my teeth into my bottom lip. If I let her hug me, I was done. Worse, a line of local well-wishers queued behind her. The oxygen twisted out of my lungs.
“Guys, she’s had to process a lot today.” Skylar stepped in, blocking their path, knowing without a word exactly what I felt. “Let’s give her some breathing room.”
The group of employees and townsfolk nodded, stepping back. Skylar had a way about her; she could pretty much get everything she wanted. Teachers, parents, peers—she had them all wrapped around her finger with a bat of her lashes.
Skylar grabbed my hand and pulled me into a booth.
“Thank you,” I muttered, running my fingers through my tangled dark strands.
“Jesus, Dev.” Skylar’s eyes fluttered and she looked to the ceiling, presumably to halt her tears. “I can’t believe this. Why didn’t you call me? You know I would have gone with you.”
“I know.” I grabbed for the glass of water in front of me. “I appreciate it but…”
“But what?” Her attention returned to my face. “I know you were alone. I saw your sister and her dickwad boyfriend driving up to the mountain. What excuse did she give you this time?”
So that was why Amelia didn’t answer her phone? Reception up there was spotty at best. You couldn’t rely on her to show up in person, but she always picked up her phone. It was the one promise we kept, never to ignore each other.
“Does she even know?”
I shook my head and turned to stare out the large window, watching the sunset dye the mountains purple and red.
The thought of still having to tell my sister made my stomach clench painfully. She was going to flip out and the added pressure of her pregnancy shoved more weight onto my shoulders. It was up to me to hold everything together: keep the house functioning, pay the bills, make the doctors’ appointments, fill the medications.
“Sorry, I didn’t text you, but...”
“It’s okay.”
“I should have known the news would get to you first.” I swallowed, tucking hair behind my ear. “Sorry you had to hear it that way.”
“Are you seriously worried about my feelings right now?” Skylar grabbed my hands, pulling my attention to her. “I am worried about you. Your mom. I wish I had been there for you.”
I squeezed her hands back, the knot in my throat expanding.
“Have you talked to Cory?” Skylar sat back, fiddling with her napkin.
“No.” I sighed. I wished he was here. I didn’t really want to talk to him over the phone about this, but I knew his mom would tell him if I didn’t soon. “I’ll wait until tonight. I don’t want to ruin his meet today.”
“You are too nice. Everyone before you.”
I blew out air, knowing it was true. It wasn’t as if I wanted to be. I wanted to say screw it and go to college, let everyone fend for themselves. But my family needed me. My mom couldn’t work or handle the extra stress of paying our mortgage. I loved my sister, but in no way would I count on her to do any of it, and Dad was dead. We had no one else. My dad’s parents were dead and only my mother’s father was alive, whom she barely talked to. He was around ninety and living in a home in Denmark.
The weight of my responsibility felt crushing, my fingers rubbing at my forehead. Breathe. Breathe.
“Hey.” At the sound of a familiar guy’s voice, I tipped my head back.
“Hey, Ant.” I nodded at my coworker. Anthony was also a senior and Jennifer’s eldest son and worked here part-time. He was short with dark eyes and skin and a mop of black hair. Nice guy, but honestly, a terrible waiter. Sue kept him on because he was family.
“Hi.” He shifted his weight on his heels, a pen pressed to a pad of paper, his eyes drifting from me to Skylar. He licked his dry lips. “Hey, Sky.”
His tremendous crush on Skylar oozed from his every pore. Every class they shared, he stared at her with longing and a silly grin.
“Hey.” She nodded back. Skylar was nice to everyone but had to keep her responses cool to keep guys from thinking she was flirting. At parties, guys regularly got into fights over her when she was simply being herself.
“Uh, sorry about your mom,” Anthony blurted out, not looking at me.
“Thanks.”
“What do you girls want?”
“The bottle of the really good tequila Sue has stashed behind the bar.” Skylar eyes darted to the spot near the soda machine. On special nights, like birthdays, she would pull it out and share it with the “of age” staff. One night soon after my father died, she snuck me a shot, understanding grief and stress had no age requirement. Sue was good like that, if you didn’t abuse it.
I snorted as Anthony’s eyes widened, glancing back nervously at the counter. “I can’t do that. What if they catch me?”
“Come on, Ant.” Skylar smiled at him. “You don’t think on this kind of day she deserves it?”
“Just an iced tea.” I handed back the menu, unable to even contemplate eating.
“Anthony…” Skylar fluttered her lashes. “Please.”
“Sky, don’t.” I shook my head. That was just cruel; you could see the torment dividing the boy in half. Follow the rules or give in to his crush.
Her eyes flicked up. “Fine. An iced tea too. And a large sundae with extra chocolate.”
“Healthy dinner.” I fiddled with my napkin.
“Screw dinner. We need to go straight to dessert tonight.”
Not even ice cream sounded good, but I could let it melt on my tongue instead of having to chew solid food.
Anthony nodded and hurried away.
“Man, you make the poor boy nervous.” I shook my head.
“I’ve known him since kindergarten; you think he’d be used to me by now.” She rolled her eyes. “Plus, I’m almost a foot taller than him.”
“A lot of guys like that in a girl.”
“Not me. I want them tall, built, with a sexy smirk…and slightly older.” She sighed dreamily. “Where is that guy?”
“Not here.”
“No kidding.” She frowned, shifting back into her seat, her mood shifting. “I am here for you…”
“I know. But tonight I don’t want to talk about it. Please, I can’t.”
She nodded. There would be plenty of nights ahead of me to talk, wallow, and lose it. I wasn’t ready to break. Not yet.
Ant came back, setting down the sundae and iced teas.
“Enjoy your tea, ladies.” Anthony cleared his throat, his eyes flicking to the drinks.
Sky’s lids narrowed, and she took a swig from her drink then slammed a hand to her chest, coughs spasming through her.
“Oh, wow.” Her eyes started to water, her hand tapping her throat as half the restaurant turned to stare at her. “Went down the wrong pipe.” She composed herself. “But really good tea.”
I took a sip already knowing Anthony had chosen his crush over the rules. Flames rained down my esophagus, shooting fireballs into my stomach. The large glass was almost all tequila with a splash of tea.
“Really. Good. Tea.” My head already spun from the inferno in my belly.
“Thanks, Ant.” Skylar looked at him, touching his hand, appreciation written over her face. His olive cheeks burned pink, unable to hold her gaze.
“Yeah. No worries.” He skirted away, scurrying for the kitchen.
I guzzled more, loving the tingly feeling it flushed down my arms and legs. If Ant got in trouble, I would take the blame. But if I knew Sue, she’d simply frown and look the other way. Of all days, she had to know I needed something to help.
Skylar was being the perfect best friend, talking about nothing serious, while we drank our potent iced teas and used the ice cream as a chaser. An alcohol haze quickly padded my brain, my insides all warm and buzzing.
“Jas texted me earlier. Both she and Cory won first today.”
“Really?” I couldn’t help feeling a zing of jealousy. I wanted to be at the tournament. Doing what I loved. Winning first place, standing next to my boyfriend. “That’s awesome.”
“He hasn’t texted you yet?”
I shook my head.
“Isn’t it your anniversary today, too?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed a heaping spoonful of ice cream. Three years ago, at this exact competition, he kissed me for the first time. The next year we celebrated our wins and anniversary by having sex for the first time. I can’t say it was great, more bumbling and awkward, but over time it got better. He was always so sweet with me, and I loved him. “He said we’d celebrate it next weekend. You know how one-track-minded he gets when he’s in full competition mode.”
Skylar lifted her eyebrows and took another bite of dessert.
“Don’t give me that look. I know you don’t care for him…”
“I like him.” She sat back.
I tilted my head, watching the room spin a little.
“I do! He’s a nice guy.”
“See.” I pointed my spoon at her. “Right there, the word nice. I know you.”
“What? He is nice.”
“Not the way you mean it.” I sucked at my straw. “Your nice means boring.”
“Aren’t they the same, really?” Her cheeks were pink with drink. “I still like him, though. But personally, I want someone who’d shove me against a wall and know exactly how to make me scream.” With blurry eyes she leaned on the table. Skylar’s mother was extremely open about sex. They talked all the time about Skylar having sex. The only restriction her mother gave her was to use protection and be in control of her own body. “Be honest, have you ever orgasmed? I mean really saw stars and cried out his name?”
Cory and I weren’t that way. We were tender. Sweet. And if I was being truly honest, it wasn’t something I encouraged; I often felt obligated. It was fine, but I didn’t get what the huge fuss was.
“That’s you. Not me.”
“Pleeeeaassseee.” She rolled her eyes. “There is not one woman here.” She waved her arm around. “Who doesn’t secretly want a guy to take charge and truly fuck her.”
My head darted around, and I pressed my finger to my lips. Last thing I needed was everyone to hear what we were talking about. “I don’t.”
Skylar’s laugh belted up like a bubble. “You are such a liar. I know you too, girl. And I know when you are lying your ass off.”
A vibration knocked into my side, and I tugged my cell from my pocket, expecting to see Amelia or my mom’s number on the screen.
“Speaking of.” I wiggled my phone in front of her face, displaying Cory’s name written across. “He just texted me.”
Cory could get sentimental, especially on our anniversary, and I didn’t want to read his texts with Skylar reading over my shoulder. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” The instant I stood, the alcohol rushed to my head, having no substance to hold on to in my stomach. I gripped the table, barely keeping myself from tipping over.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, placing each foot in front of the other carefully. My cell buzzed again, another text coming in.
I didn’t want to appear drunk with so many eyes on me as I crossed the room. I concentrated on my screen, Cory’s words blurred as I stumbled into the empty bathroom. I walked to the sink, leaning against it, trying to steady myself.
