More Than Each Other (More Than Best Friends Book 2) Page 6

  “Why can’t you let it go?” Mom asks.

  “Because that’s what happens in real life.”

  Mom scoffs. “Oh? Where’s Lincoln now?

  “Sarah.”

  “You have no idea.” She huffs. “I’m going to sleep.”

  Dad grumbles something about “it’s the way it is,” but Mom doesn’t say anything else.

  That’s it, Mom? No, you’re being ridiculous, Tim, or Regan can be whatever she wants to be, or Lane is good for Regan?

  15

  Lane

  Happy Halloween to me.

  After I survived the nasty tricks and real-life nightmares from Regan’s parents yesterday, I drove around the dirt roads for hours and ended up at the cliffs watching the sun set all by myself. And here I sit on my parent’s backyard swing, watching the darkness turn to light.

  I blow out a long breath and bring my mug of black coffee to my lips for a sip. Sleep and me, we’re good friends. But last night I gator-rolled in bed until I finally zonked out. And then I was up before daybreak. I had to make some coffee because my brain is so fuzzy, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. This caffeine needs to get me up the mountain I’m about to climb.

  The door of the house claps shut. Soon I hear the swish of feet walking through the damp grass, coming closer. Dad takes a seat next to me while I watch steam rise in a swirl from my mug.

  “You’re up early.” Dad’s voice is always gravelly in the mornings. Probably because he snores.

  “Yeah,” I answer, but focus my eyes on the light brimming above the trees.

  “Still nervous?”

  Nervous? That’s an understatement. “Yeah.”

  Dad gives my shoulder a squeeze and offers to intervene, but I want to do this on my own. I think maybe Mr. Stone’s trying to prove he’s the boss. Or…I’m an idiot and have no clue.

  I finish my coffee and head over to Regan’s. Spider webs draped in dew are all over the trees this morning. Regan would tell me how beautiful they are and then give me some scientific reason for the cycle of life. All I can picture is Mr. Stone’s face on a giant spider spinning his web as I drive over there. He has a trap waiting for me.

  We really screwed this up. Regan with her waiting to tell our parents and me with my chickening out all summer long.

  As soon as I cross over the bridge, the vise on my chest tightens. I look at myself in the mirror and comb my fingers through my hair. I break to slow down for her drive and my heart shifts to the next gear.

  It’s chilly this morning, but the beads of sweat gathering on my forehead didn’t get the message. I swipe my palm across my jeans to hide any sign of fear in hopes Mr. Stone doesn’t get wind of it.

  He steps out of the house as I park. I take a deep breath before stepping out and meeting him.

  “Morning, Mr. Stone,” I greet and reach my hand out.

  The same cold, blank slate, from yesterday covers his face. He glances at my hand and pauses way longer than I’d like before gripping it in a too firm handshake. “Lane, what are you doing here?”

  Okay. Not exactly the attitude I was hoping for. I might as well throw everything I’ve got at him. “Mr. Stone, I can see now how things with me and Regan could look bad, but I promise you, I have the most honorable intentions with your daughter. You know me as well as my parents. I don’t chase after girls like that. Please don’t listen to whatever rumors are going around.”

  He begins to step toward the shed and I follow his lead continuing with my plea. “We made a mistake by not telling you what was going on when I left for Eastern. You’re right, I didn’t try hard enough. And I’m sorry. But please, I can’t just walk away. She’s too important to me to never see her again. The more than friends, the dating part, it’s new. We…we weren’t even sure until the day before I left. We haven’t been dating all summer or anything.”

  We reach the shed, and I slump against their Jeep, remembering the torture of trying to find the right time to tell Regan and the pressure of summer ending. “I barely had the guts to talk to her about it.”

  I peek up at him, arms crossed, legs planted firm near his car. He doesn’t act like I’ve changed his mind at all.

  I shove one hand in my pocket and rub my chin with the other. The water’s up to my neck, and soon I’ll be drowning. His silence feeds the water level.

  Finally, he speaks, “You shouldn't have went behind my back.” Tim’s stance hasn’t softened one ounce.

  “Yes, sir, but you started talking like Regan and I shouldn’t even be friends. Like I was too old for her when we’ve been friends our whole life. We’re still only two years apart. It was easier for us to wait until….”

  He steps around the car so we are man to man. “If it’s difficult does that mean it’s not worth it?”

  I look down at my feet and shift my weight. Why can’t adults see things the way I do? I have to be respectful, but then say what’s on my mind. And then they tell me I’m wrong. What a joke. He didn’t respect me when he showed me to the door last night.

  I meet his stare. “Regan’s definitely worth it. That’s why I’m here. I said I’d keep coming back, and I will.”

  “You’ve lost my trust.” He looks across the lawn to the house and says, “Both of you have. Regan knows better than to pull something like this and so do you. She’s grounded for a month.”

  My eyes automatically close in defeat. I lower my head so he doesn’t see the grimace on my face. I turn my gaze to the house wondering if Regan knows I’m here. If I could get by with it, I’d run in there and wrap her in my arms, kissing her breath away. Either way, it’s going to feel like forever without her. What more can I do than pour my heart out there like I did?

  “And you’re not allowed to see each other,” Mr. Stone adds. “After that, we’ll have to see.”

  A whole month? I go crazy after a week of not seeing her. “Mr. Stone, please.” The water is so deep, I’m treading, grasping for something to hold on to. “I’ll do anything.”

  He shakes his head and I swear he knocked the wind out of me with that gut punch. And to top it off, one side of his mouth is twitching like he’s about to laugh at me. Getting laughed right off the property. Again.

  If it was Regan’s brother standing in front of me instead of her dad, I’d punch him right in the nose.

  Mr. Stone’s gaze moves toward the house as he scrubs a hand across his mouth and down his chin. “Anything?” he asks, locking eyes with me again.

  Something I said has his attention. Hope flickers in my chest. My gut tells me I have a chance. I nod a hundred times, “Yes, sir.”

  “There might be a way you can earn my trust and see Regan while she’s grounded.”

  Yes! That little flicker of hope is growing into a bonfire. “Whatever you want,”—my hand slices through the air—“consider it done.”

  “Get Regan to drop this marine science foolishness.”

  Boom.

  His words are the dynamite exploding my burning well of hope, effectively extinguishing it. My eyelids flutter as I stammer, “W-what?”

  “You said anything. Can I trust you with this? Do you want to date my daughter?”

  The earth has become a giant leech, sucking the blood through my feet, and I can’t move. I’m frozen in stunned silence.

  Can I go a whole month without seeing or talking to Regan? Will he let me see her after a month if I don’t agree to this?

  “I-I don’t know, Mr. Stone. That’s,”—I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but my mouth is so dry—“her dream. Why would you want her to give up?”

  Mr. Stone’s face hardens as he folds his arms against his chest. “Do you want to gain my trust? Yes or no.”

  Yes or no? How can I make a decision like this? My eyes dart to the house. I know my mouth is hanging open, but I can’t seem to close it. This is an impossible choice. “Do I have to decide right now?”

  “You can think about it for a few days. But no contact with Regan until then.
”

  I swallow and ask for an inch. “Can I at least call her?”

  His head swivels back and forth before he says, “No.”

  I shove my fists in my pockets. “Can I go in and see her before I leave?”

  “Thanks for coming over.” Mr. Stone straightens, motioning with his hand toward my truck. “My offer stands until Tuesday.”

  Three days? How can I decide to betray her and follow through with my promise that things will work out in three days? I mope to my truck and slide under the steering wheel.

  “Tuesday” he calls. “Oh, and Lane…this conversation is between the two of us. No one else. Do you understand?”

  I nod and pull my door shut, cranking my engine to life. Coming here was a total waste. Either I agree to burn Regan’s plan and convince her to drop marine science or he may not let me see her ever again. If she had any hint I would derail her plans for college and career, she’d never see me again. Maybe not even as a friend.

  I can’t even talk to my Dad about this.

  When I finally reach the bridge, I pound the roof of my cab and let my frustration out. I have two choices…destroy Regan’s future or destroy mine.

  16

  Regan

  Sunshine filters through my window, teasing me with rays of hope after last night’s disaster. The clock shows 7:05. I sit up and frown out at the dead leaves left clinging to the tree branches. Five more months before they show any sign of life again. Ugh, I hate winter.

  Lane’s truck drives into my vision, pulling out of my drive.

  He’s leaving?

  I gasp for air. “No.”

  I raise to my knees and hold on to the window frame, watching him drive away. I didn’t even know he was here. My legs scramble to the door and I fling it open, stepping into the hall.

  Dad comes inside the house at the same time. When he sees me, his lips purse together. The deep set of his eyes adds to the scowl he pelts my direction.

  “Why didn’t you tell me Lane was here?” I ask. “Why is he leaving?”

  “He didn’t come to see you.” Dad’s terse words don’t taste good in the morning.

  I match his scowl with my own, step inside my room, and throw the door shut. My bladder advises me to head to the bathroom, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of leaving my room.

  Didn’t come to see me. Right.

  Fine.

  Dad can control my life for another year, but I’m not going to make it pleasant for him. He won’t get eye contact, conversation, or my presence unless it is absolutely required. It may be a childish way to handle this, but that’s all I’ve got to work with.

  The plan to stay in my room doesn’t last long. Mom plows through my door, without knocking. “You’re not going to sit in here all day.” She hands over a list of chores for me to do today and tomorrow.

  I want to scream and stomp my feet like a little kid.

  They’re treating me like a kid, I might as well act like one.

  Church is one place Dad can’t keep me from seeing my best friend. Which is the only reason I was able to sleep like a rock last night. I knew I’d see Lane today. It’s not possible for Dad to keep us apart here.

  As soon as I get out of the Jeep, I search for my banished boyfriend. His truck’s not here, but maybe he rode with his parents. It wouldn’t be unusual, and his mom’s car is here. Paul Frak holds the front doors open for some older ladies. They faun all over him, and it turns my stomach. If they only knew the games he plays with a girl’s heart.

  He spots me powerwalking across the parking lot and stretches that stupid smug grin from one side of his face to the other. Every hair in its stylish place. He waits for me, his hand gripping the handle.

  I don’t have time to deal with him. The growl in my chest grows as I climb the stairs to the covered stoop.

  Paul dips his head while his eyes violate my personal space. “Regan, you’re glowy this morning. Like a new bride on her honeymoon.” His smile widens.

  What the heck does—

  Ugh. My stomach tightens even more. Gross.

  I narrow my eyes, cross my arms against my chest, making sure to cover my boobs, and keep walking. This shirt is not revealing or super tight, but he’s creepy, and I don’t want him staring at them.

  He comments so only I can hear, “My offer still stands.”

  “Leave me alone, Paul,” I snap and walk through the door.

  The muffled greeting Paul gives my parents is drowned out when I turn my focus on scouring the hallway and sanctuary for my boyfriend. No sign of his broad shoulders or sandy locks. He’s got to be here somewhere. So, I continue my search and head straight to where the high school Sunday School meets, checking every classroom on the way.

  Still no sign of him.

  Our youth minister, Tristan, calls our attention to begin class.

  Panic forces my eyes to dart around the room in search of Lane. Miss Braun’s towards the back, and I scurry over to ask if she’s seen him this morning.

  When the word I was dreading to hear passes over her lips, it slides between my ribs, wraps it’s Hulkish fingers around my heart, and squeezes so hard I nearly double over in pain.

  This can’t be right. One of the last things Lane said to me Friday when Dad kicked him out was that he’d see me Sunday.

  It’s Sunday.

  I jerk away from Miss Braun’s painful “no” and take my seat. For the next forty minutes, which seems like hours, I name all the logical reasons why I haven’t seen Lane yet.

  Somewhat logical reasons.

  Miss Braun prays at the end of class. I lift up the same one’s I’ve been praying for since Thursday night. I know God’s not a genie in a bottle. But He’s the only one who can handle this mess.

  At “Amen” I bolt out of there faster than the speed of light, maneuvering through the crowded hallway to the back corner of the sanctuary.

  Mr. Cary and my dad come through the doors consumed in a quiet discussion. They move on autopilot to the side of the room away from everyone. It must be a private conversation. Dad’s arms are folded tight against him as he looks down at the tan carpet. Mr. Cary’s hand gestures in the air.

  My gut tells me they’re talking about Lane and me.

  Lane’s sisters skip down the aisle to their usual row. That means their mom won’t be far behind. As she walks through the doors, I meet her before she makes it to the girls.

  “Mrs. Cary?” I call loud enough she can hear me, hoping no one else does.

  She stops and turns toward my voice. A gentle smile tugs the corners of her mouth. The kind of mom smile that tries to fix their child’s disappointment.

  It causes my heart to drop. My whole body slumps with it, because I know she doesn’t have the news I want to hear.

  “Regan. Sweetie.”

  I swallow and ask the question I already know the answer to. “Is Lane here?”

  She gives me the same smile. “No, he’s not.” Her hand rubs my upper arm. “I’m sorry.”

  Tears sting my eyes and I swallow again, hoping they stay put. I manage to squeak out, “Where is he?”

  Her lips press together and then she brings me into a hug. “He went back to school yesterday. I’m so sorry about you being grounded and not being able to see each other. But I’m really happy the two of you decided you want to date. I love you kiddo.”

  “Why is Dad doing this to us?” One lone tear trickles down my cheek. Please, no tears. Not at church. Not in front of Dad.

  “It’s going to be okay.” She sounds like Lane promising me everything will work out. It’s not working out though.

  “Lane said he’d be here.”

  “Just be patient.” Her voice is gentle and supportive as she lets go of me. “Be patient.” She nods behind me.

  I turn and see Mom sitting.

  “Go sit with your Mom. Give it some time.”

  I nod, heading toward the bathroom instead.

  Give it time? Be patient? Eas
y to say when you’re not the one grounded and you can’t see the only person that gets what you’re going through. My legs grow heavier and heavier with every step. By the time I lock the door to the bathroom, my threadbare strength cracks.

  I slide down the door and bury my face in my hands.

  Is Lane giving up?

  17

  Regan

  Haylee’s nestled against the wall on the top row of the bleachers when I search the gym this morning. The only reason I crawled out of bed is because I don’t want to be stuck in solitary confinement all day. It feels good to be free from my parents.

  “Hey.” Tobi comes along side me as I climb the steps. She whispers, “How’d it go this weekend? I was going to call you, but I didn’t want you to get in trouble or anything.” Tobi puts her arm around my shoulders. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure what to do.”

  I hitch my shoulder as if it’s no big deal, and then I unload the truth. “It was the worst weekend of my life.”

  We plop down beside Haylee as she looks up from her book with her big chocolate drop eyes wide in surprise. “What happened?”

  I look around to make sure no one’s listening to our conversation. “Dad basically kicked Lane out of the house Friday.”

  They both gasp.

  Tobi screeches, “You’re kidding.”

  Haylee shushes her.

  Tobi continues, “Lane just said it didn’t go well.”

  “Yeah, that’s an understatement.” I shake my head and heave a heavy breath. Breathing has taken a lot more effort the past few days. I don’t see the weight on my chest lifting any time soon.

  They huddle around me, and I give them the big picture of events or lack thereof since Friday night. After two full days of giving my parents the silent treatment, I would’ve thought I’d be ready to blab a hundred miles an hour, but I don’t feel much like talking.

  “Maybe this’ll help.” Tobi rummages in her bag and hands me a pretty little package wrapped in dark blue wrapping paper with a white ribbon twisted into a simple bow. It has a tiny card attached. Her pearly whites gleam with pride. “Read the card first.”