Late update, anyone? *whistles innocently*
I'd like to say I have a good reason for this being late, but the truth is I just totally lost track of days.
Anyway...this one might have you reaching for the Kleenex, especially toward the end. I got a little teary eyed reading it myself and that almost never happens!
Caught In A Riptide
Chapter Sixteen
Lakely
What have I done?
Seeing my lost, wide-eyed stare, Tyler lowers his hand from his face, hesitating before opening his arms. A sob tears out of me as he pulls me against his chest but I stand frozen, hands hanging at my sides, something foreign spreading through my body. There's a crack of thunder before the heavens open and rain pours down in heavy sheets. For the first time in weeks, I don't feel sick.
I feel numb.
.
.
"Get her out of here," Tyler mumbles over my head, then I'm in a different set of arms as Heidi guides me around the side of the house, through the back gate, to Charlotte's car. Our shoes slip on the wet grass so we hang onto each other to stay upright, the smell of rain thick in my nose and the weight of the storm bearing down on us.
"Shit, keys."
"I'm here, I'm here!" Charlotte calls, skidding across the front yard with the car key in her hand. "I just had to give the first aid kit to Tyler." I can feel her eyes on me. "Arlo really got him. Who knew he could hit?"
I swallow hard, shaking my head, desperate to get out of here. My eyes scan the street through the rain pouring down from heavy, black clouds. I can't see Arlo.
"C'mon, girl."
Like a doll, I let Heidi bundle me into the backseat without protest. Charlotte doesn't ask where I want to go, just drives straight toward her house. Sneaking past her dad snoring in his recliner, we slip off our wet shoes to stop them squeaking on the floor and take turns showering the rain off of us. Charlotte gently takes care of the small cut on my face. Once she's done, in a borrowed set of her pajamas, I tuck my knees against my chest and rest my forehead on them, digging my bare toes into the soft comforter and counting the drops of water that drip from the ends of my hair.
"Turn around a bit," Heidi says quietly as Charlotte steps into the bathroom, using a towel to gently pat my hair until it's at least not dripping everywhere. She tucks it around my shoulders once she's done, twisting my wet locks up into a loose ponytail.
I half listen to her babbling about everything and nothing while Charlotte takes her turn in the bathroom, but when she climbs into the bed and wraps me up in her arms, I can't hold it in any longer.
The emotions I've been holding in pour out of me in sobs I muffle against Charlotte and Heidi. They hold me together and don't even try to shush me. Everything aches as I cling to them like I'm frightened they'll disappear and leave me drifting. Nothing feels solid or real, everything's so messed up.
And the worst part? The arms I want the most, the arms I ache for, are Arlo's.
By the time I'm all cried out, my eyes are puffy and sore and my throat kills. Charlotte runs to grab some water, which leaves Heidi wiping my damp cheeks with the sleeve of her pajama top.
Frowning, she ducks a little to catch my eyes with her concerned gaze. "Why didn't you tell us?"
Charlotte steps into the room as I croak, "I was scared. Am scared. Terrified, actually. And I don't...I still can't…"
Understanding takes the place of hurt. "It hasn't sunk in yet, huh? Oh, girl...I'm so sorry."
For hours, we curl up together on Charlotte's giant bed and I spill my guts—literally, one time, although I make it to the bathroom. I tell them everything.
About realizing I loved Arlo when I was thirteen.
About falling in love with him more and more every day since then.
About knowing that it was never going to happen and accepting that I'd only ever be the best friend.
About the almost-kiss at prom and the way I selfishly tried to use Tyler to get over him.
My cheeks flame crimson as I describe waking up with him curled around me, morning wood wedged against my butt before he ran away thinking I was still asleep.
Then I swallow hard, trying not to cry as I describe the party in Miami, how we ended up on the beach. I gloss over the details of our hook-up and finally sigh when I admit it took Tyler, the ferris wheel, and my new aversion to most of my favorite foods for me to realize that I don't just have memories of that night to haunt me.
"You're gonna have a baby," Charlotte breathes, looking down at my stomach like she has X-ray vision.
My gut knots as her words sink in. I can't think about it like that, accept that it's a...a…
Baby.
I choke on my shaky sigh. "I can't think about that. Not...it's not...I can't…" find the words.
Heidi stares at me for too long, her gaze too intense. I look away, looking for something, anything, to distract me.
Except I spot the one thing that makes it impossible to forget.
The picture of me, Heidi, Charlotte, Demetri, Liam, and Arlo on our first day of high school is pinned up above Charlotte's desk along with a load of others; beach days, trips to the movies, pool parties, and maybe a hundred other memories, most of them full of smiles and Arlo.
He's been such a massive part of my life since we were four years old.
Now he always will be.
"Have you thought about your options?" Heidi murmurs a little while later. We've moved around again, all of us lying side by side with our heads hanging off the end of the bed.
"I've barely thought about any of it," I admit. I'm wedged between my girls, so I feel it when Heidi sighs and turns her head to face me.
"It'd make it real, huh?"
Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I nod and whisper, "Yeah."
"What about Arlo?" Charlotte asks. "I mean, he knows now…"
"He doesn't though." Tears burn my eyes. "He thinks...he thinks it's Tyler's."
Charlotte and Heidi hiss curses, like this news is only just sinking in, and the repercussions of my night of stupidity sink deeper into my mind.
~ oOo ~
The next morning, Heidi has a brunch to get to and I can't hide out at Charlotte's all day, so I thank them both for everything and promise to call them later before starting the short walk home.
I use the alone time to get my head in order. Mom is at the bakery and Dad promised Austin a day on the beach, so I have the house all to myself for most of the day. It's nice except for the uninterrupted time to dwell on my predicament and how I'm going to get out of it. When the fifth 'is it true?!' style message rolls in, I switch off my phone and tuck my laptop into my dresser to kill the temptation to look at it.
After a family dinner that makes me feel claustrophobic and panicky, I tell my parents I'm exhausted from a busy week and retreat to my bedroom where I change into some shorts and a t-shirt before heading straight to the window. I expect the familiar rush of nerves when I look down.
I'm not expecting him.
~ oOo ~
Charlotte always goes for a run on Sunday mornings.
Being on the cheer squad is no joke and she has to keep almost as fit as the soccer players.
For the first time in weeks, I'm outside, jogging on the spot, when she sneaks out of the front door just before eight. If she's surprised to see me, she doesn't show it.
We used to run together all the time, but I've gotten lazy. The burn in my calves revitalizes me after a late night second-guessing every second of last night's conversation with Arlo.
"Are you sure? I mean, are you sure it's mine, not Tyler's?"
When those words slipped out of his mouth, I got the crazy, uncharacteristic itch to slap him. It frightened me, so I did the next best thing. I ran away.
After a night of reflection, I can understand why he asked. It doesn't make it hurt any less, but there's no easy way out of this. This situation isn't simple. He might know what happened now, but only through secondhand, alcohol-warped memories. I wouldn't lie to him, not about this, but nobody could blame him for being skeptical.
By the time we reach the dunes I'm sweaty and red-faced, but I feel free as we laugh at each other's attempts to pick our way through the sand drifts to the top. When we make it, Charlotte wraps her arm around my middle and rests her head on my shoulder.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she whispers, gazing out at the ocean as it undulates in the mid-morning sunshine.
"Yeah," I breathe, letting the waves hypnotize me.
For an hour, as we pick through the sand and collect a few pretty shells before starting the slow jog home, it feels like life before.
Before Miami.
Before the party.
Before Arlo.
It's just after ten when I get home, so I'm surprised to see Dad's car in the driveway and Mom's right beside it.
Shouldn't one of them be at the bakery?
I wrack my brain, trying to remember this week's schedule before realizing I have the memory capacity of a gnat right now. Arlo's uncle Sullivan, our neighbor, is out on his front porch as I head toward my own; I spot the back of his husband's car disappearing around the bend in the street, so I guess it's Gray's turn to go see his brother, Coby, in Tallahassee. Sullivan waves when he catches me looking. I duck my head and feel the warmth of a slight blush, of course, and wave back, speeding up the pace before I can do anything embarrassing.
Stepping through the front door, I toe off my shoes and holler to see who's home and where they are, icy dread slipping through my veins when Dad appears in the kitchen doorway.
He looks mad. No, not mad.
Furious.
"Come and sit down. We need to talk to you."
Oh, God.
Mom's demeanor does nothing to reassure me. She's standing over by the sink with a mug clutched tight in her hands and an ashen face.
"What's going on?" I start, trying to fill my voice with as much normalcy as possible. "Where's Austin?"
"With Geraldine," Dad grunts, and I wonder why Austin is with his babysitter when it's a Sunday and, apparently, everybody is home. "Sit."
My body does as it's told without me thinking about it. When I sit at the table, I see a look pass between my parents, and my stomach turns.
My eyes are still sore from crying so much yesterday, but they prickle when Dad reaches out to pull something from the plastic bag in front of me on the table.
My blood runs cold.
"Mom, Dad, I'm so—"
"You need to tell us which one of your friends this belongs to right now."
"—sorry...wait, what?"
Dad continues like I never interrupted as blood rushes between my ears and my heart slams against my ribs. "We've always placed a lot of trust in you, and we know it's not misplaced. Clearly, those girls you're associating with are not to be trusted the same way, and their parents deserve to know."
"I can't…" believe this.
"Oh yes, you can," Dad snaps, voice getting louder, face a little more red.
"No, Dad...I…" shit. I can feel tears gathering in my eyes as I look between him and Mom. They're so mad already, but I know this is where I confess. This is where I break their hearts and tell them the pregnancy test box belongs to me and their trust was misplaced.
They'll forgive you. That's what Charlotte and Heidi kept telling me last night. They'll be stark-raving mad for a bit, but they love you and they'll get over it.
With that in mind, I suck in a deep breath and decide to rip off the band-aid. How much can it hurt, anyway?
"The test wasn't Charlotte's or Heidi's," I say slowly, carefully, watching to see who will blow up first. Instinct says Dad, but it's Mom whose face has sharpened with my first admission. "The test wasn't either of theirs, it was...it was mine. A-and it was positive. I'm...I'm pregnant."
The words stumble out of me in a clumsy rush. I realize right away that my delivery could have been better.
"You're lying."
I blink quickly, then wipe my face with my hand. "No, Dad, I'm not. I'm so, so sorry, but I'm not lying. I'm telling the truth. I can show you."
Neither of them move, so I drag my lead feet upstairs and fish the positive test from the back of my underwear drawer. When I get back to the kitchen, Mom is sitting at the table with a shell-shocked expression on her face. Dad hasn't moved, as far as I can tell. I'm trembling all over, my future flashing before my eyes, gone in a blink as I squeeze the hard plastic stick in my hand, wishing the result were different.
"Here."
When I put the positive test in front of them, I'm not sure what I expect them to say.
It's definitely not "Pack your things, and get out."
I baulk. "Wh-what?"
Dad's nostrils flare, a sure sign he's losing his temper. "No daughter of mine is going to live under my roof behaving like a common tramp."
I flinch like he struck me. The tears come unchecked now, scalding my face as they run over my cheeks and drip from my chin.
"Dad…" I croak, swallowing a cry when he shakes his head and waves a hand, like I'm a fly, an irritation to swat away.
"I mean it. Pack your things. You can take the car. I don't even want to think about what's gone on in it."
My blurry vision shifts to Mom, but she's just crying silently into her hands. I wait for her to stick up for me, to tell Dad he's being crazy and of course I'm not going anywhere because they're going to help me figure this out. Reaching out, I touch her shoulder and stifle a cry by biting my lip when she flinches.
I want to scream and cry. I want to throw myself at their feet and apologize. I want them to hug me and promise it'll all be okay because I'm scared.
But they're not giving me a chance. Instead, they're washing their hands of me.
"I can't...you can't throw me out," I whisper. "I have nowhere to go."
"You should have thought of that before you got yourself knocked up at seventeen. Damn it, Lakely! How many times have we told you to stay away from boys, huh? I thought you were smarter than this!"
"I am smart, I just...I made a mistake," I insist, wiping my face with the back of my hand, desperation bleeding into my voice. "Haven't you ever made a mistake?"
Dad's dark brows furrow. "I don't think you realize what you've done. You've ruined your life, Lakely. You might as well have just flushed your future down the toilet. You can wave goodbye to college, California, the promising career you had ahead of you."
My stomach turns as he plants the image in my head of Stanford and a good job spinning around the toilet bowl before disappearing with a whoosh.
"It's not...that's not…"
With a heavy sigh, Dad shakes his head and turns to stare out of the window at the back yard. I follow his gaze, tears blurring the swingset and the pool slide where I've played since I can remember. This is my childhood home, my safe haven. The one place I never expected anybody to take away from me.
Especially not my own parents.
"I mean it, Lakely. Pack your clothes and get out of my house."
My house.
"Where will I go?"
My voice is whisper-thin, reedy and soft.
His is firm and invites zero arguments.
"You should have thought of that—"
"Before I got myself knocked up," I finish for him, swallowing a choked cry. "I get it."
My legs feel like they each weigh a ton as I drag them up the stairs to my room. Dropping heavily on the foot of my bed, I stare blankly at my feet and wonder what the hell just happened. I figured I'd have to tell Mom and Dad today anyway seeing as the cat is definitely out of the bag after last night, but I never thought they'd react the way they just did.
Tears continue to fall as I slip off my bed and walk to the closet. The case I took to Miami is only half unpacked.
I add to it in a trance, not really seeing or caring what I'm putting in there as I stuff things in until it's almost full. When I drag it out into my room, I half expect Mom or Dad to be waiting.
They're not.
Tucking a few more essentials into the case—my hair and toothbrushes, cell charger, and laptop—I zip it up slowly, listening intently for footsteps on the stairs or voices floating up to me, still hoping they'll come to their senses any second and apologize or promise to help me. None of those things happen, but Dad is waiting at the bottom of the stairs when I finally give up and trudge down after pausing to take one last, long look around my bedroom because I'm not sure when I'll see it again.
How ironic that getting the one thing I thought would make my life complete, getting Arlo, is costing me my life instead.
There's no hint of love or apology in Dad's expression as he reaches for the door, opening it silently and staring somewhere over the top of my head as I sniffle and pick my school backpack up off the floor. My throat is clogged with tears, too tight to say a word as he waits for me to leave.
Glancing around, I search for Mom hopefully, crushed when I spot the closed kitchen door and hear the faint sounds of her crying on the other side.
I've always hated it when she cries.
"I'll have Austin call you."
Oh, God.
A whimper pushes free at the thought of my little brother. "What...what are you going to tell him?"
The first crack in Dad's armor appears then, but he quickly plasters over it with a scowl and a shake of his head. "That's not for you to worry about."
The finality of his words hangs in the air as I suck in a desperate breath, burning eyes cataloguing everything around me in the few seconds it takes to pull my suitcase out onto the porch. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I turn to beg him to reconsider, but flinch when I'm met with the harsh slam of the door in my face instead.
Each step feels like a mile and I'm a hyperventilating, tear-blind mess by the time I've tossed my case and backpack into the backseat of the car and climbed into the front. My head hits the steering wheel I'm white-knuckling as I try to suck in enough oxygen to keep myself from passing out. A small part of me wonders if Mom and Dad are watching me fall apart through the window.
A bigger part knows they aren't.
Forcing myself to drive away from my childhood home is harder than it's ever been before. I drive aimlessly until I realize how unsafe it is for me to be in charge of a car when I can barely see through my tears. Pulling into the first empty space I see, I don't care that it's a gorgeous August day and there are people flooding The Boardwalk.
Tap, tap.
For a second when I look up, I think it's Arlo tapping on my window. When I sniff and wipe my face with my palms, I realize it's just his uncannily similar looking uncle who happens to have no biological relation to him whatsoever.
"You shouldn't be driving like this, hon," he murmurs when I pull myself together enough to open the window.
"I'm okay," I sniffle, knowing how much of an idiot I must look with tears freefalling off my chin and a nose like a leaky tap. Grabbing a wad of tissue from the glove box, I blow my nose and wince at the volume.
Looking real good right now, Lakely.
"Come on, I'm not leavin' you out here like this."
Sullivan won't take 'no' for an answer. He pulls the door open and hits the button to lift the window, jerking his head toward Burger Co. when I just stare at him, lip between my teeth and heart slamming against my chest.
"It's too busy in there. I don't want…"
He shakes his head. "There's an apartment upstairs. You can take five up there, okay?"
Okay.
I keep my head down all the way into the restaurant and up the stairs I didn't know existed. Sullivan unlocks the door on the left with a key from the ring clipped to a belt loop on his cargo shorts, waving me in ahead of him. "I'll be right back. I've just gotta let Garrett know I'm takin' my break. Make yourself comfortable."
"Okay," I whisper, waiting until he's gone to lift my head and look around. It's...not what I expected.
It's definitely lived-in, or was. There's a thin layer of dust on the countertop to my right and the dining table to my left, and when I look up at the black clock on the wall, I realize it must have stopped at some point. The hands are stationary over the four and the two. The place seems fully furnished with artwork on the walls, books on the bookcase, and copper pans hanging above the stove. A tan couch sits against the wall, a brown leather chair beside it with a coffee table in the middle.
My sneakers squeak on the pretty, patterned wood floor when I step too quickly. Wincing, I realize I'm still in my workout clothes—a sports bra with a baggy tank over the top and running shorts.
Lovely.
There's no plastic bag in the trash can, so I hold my gross tissues in my hand as I cross the room to the big windows. I can see the ocean from here. Opening the window a little, I suck in a big breath of salty sea air and let it soothe me while I wait for Sullivan.
He takes a bit longer than I expected, but my stomach snarls when he walks through the door with two cardboard containers and a grin on his face.
"Left or right?"
"Right."
His grin widens, but he hands me the container in his left hand, laughing when I pop the lid and set eyes on my absolute favorite Burger Co. food.
"You know me too well," I...well, not really protest, but sigh.
Sullivan chuckles and pats my head on his way to the stools at the counter. The buttery soft brown leather sticks to my tacky legs, but I forget all about it when Sullivan hands me a fork and I dig in. Pad Thai fries at eleven in the morning...can't beat it.
We eat in companionable silence. It's surprisingly comfortable considering the state he found me in not quite thirty minutes ago.
"I'm gonna be upfront with you," he murmurs once the food is all gone and our trash is stacked at the end of the counter. My blood runs cold, my yummy food buzz obliterated the second he admits, "Arlo told me."
The stool legs scrape the floor as I scramble to my feet.
"Hey, chill, Lakely," he soothes, making no move to get up. "I'm not gonna judge, okay? I'm guessin' that's not the same reaction you've gotten so far, but you don't have to worry about that here, aight?"
A wave of nausea rushes through me. I just about manage to squeak "bathroom?" before slapping a hand over my mouth. Luckily, Sullivan hears me the first time and just points toward the stairs. I'm in too much of a rush to take much notice of the bedroom on the upper floor, especially once I spot the open door with a toilet directly inside it.
Strangely, I'm almost more upset about losing my delicious late breakfast-early lunch than the fact that I just had to run away from Arlo's uncle to puke.
There's a packet of unopened toothbrushes and an almost-empty bottle of out-of-date mouthwash under the sink. Swishing the mouthwash around, I use the brush to hopefully clear the taste and smell of puke away before splashing cool water on my face and stepping back out of the bathroom.
Feeling less hurried now, I take a second to absorb how beautiful this apartment is. The light pouring in from the huge windows splashes across a big, unmade double bed and gorgeous parquet floors that match downstairs. This floor is all open, so when I put my shaky hands on the railing, I can see Sullivan texting on his cell below me.
"This place is so nice," I breathe tentatively, managing a faint smile when he looks up at me with a grin and tucks his phone back into his pocket.
"It sure is. Jones and Kelly used to live here, but it's been empty for a while now except for the odd time I piss off Gray and he makes me stay here. It's a shame."
"It's definitely a shame," I agree, admiring the view as I carefully take the metal and wood stairs back downstairs. Huffing a heavy sigh, I force myself to look at him. "Arlo told you?"
Sullivan's smile slips a little, turning sympathetic. "He did, and hon, you should know he's freaking the fuck out just as much as I bet you are."
I splutter a laugh. "I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse, to be honest."
"Come sit for a sec."
Once we're both sitting on the leather couch, he blows a big breath out through his nose.
"Aight, I'mma be straight with you," he says, thankfully missing my soft snort of amusement at his refusal to quit speaking like the teen surfer boy he once was and start sounding like the mature father of three he is now. "Arlo is freaking the fuck out but he's getting his head on straight. Give him a little time."
As my stomach twists, I instinctively touch it and blush when his eyes dip to where my fingertips are brushing the spot below my belly button.
"I don't exactly have a ton of time," I admit.
Cocking his head, Sullivan asks a question I really don't think I'm ready for.
Not just because it's a huge question...
But because I don't even know the answer.
"Lakely...are you gonna keep the baby?"
My eyes start to burn—a sensation I'm familiar with. "I don't...um, I don't know?"
His eyes soften. "Hey, tell me if I'm oversteppin'. I just...you said you don't have a lot of time, so…"
"I get it. I just...this is hard. My parents—" I choke on my words, trying to blink away tears before I can lose myself to them all over again. "I didn't think they'd react like they did."
"What happened?"
I can't believe I'm getting ready to say the words 'they kicked me out,' but in the end, I don't need to. Apparently, the look on my face says them for me because Sullivan's sympathetic, curious smile hardens into a furious expression I've never seen on his face before. He's the sweet, cuddly, funny uncle I've always been a little jealous of, if I'm honest. Arlo has four great uncles including Sullivan's husband, but Sullivan is my favorite.
"Oh, hon."
This time, when I fall apart, I'm not alone. Sullivan catches me, rubbing my back and murmuring reassuring things like "You're gonna be okay" and "We'll get this all figured out" until I remember this is Arlo's uncle and get a grip.
"I'm sorry, I've been doing that a lot lately."
Sullivan barks a laugh and nods as I tug the hem of my shirt up to wipe my face. "Yeah, I bet. T cried all the damn time when she was pregnant with Monday, June, and August."
"Right, she was your surrogate," I remember, smiling at the memory of Sullivan the day his first daughter was born. I was over at Arlo's house when he called Edward from the hospital with the good news; all tearful, goofy smiles and gushing praise for his best friend-turned-baby mama.
"She sure was."
"What, uh, what did Arlo tell you?" I wonder. "Does he know I'm here?"
"No, he doesn't know you're here," he admits. "He's out of town today with Gray and the kids. They've gone to see Coby." I figured. "Look, it's not really my place to do this, but I know a kid in trouble when I see one, and I know my nephew would kick my butt if I let you leave. This place is vacant, nobody ever comes up here, and you need somewhere to crash for a bit until your parents cool their heads, right?"
Pulling in a shaky breath, I nod. "Uh, right."
"Stay here, then."
When I start to protest, he cuts me off and reminds me that I'm practically family.
He realizes how odd that is to say at the same time I do, his eyes dropping to my still-flat stomach as my fingers flutter over it again.
This...baby—I force myself to think the word—is Sullivan's great niece or nephew.
"Just until you get somethin' else sorted. It wouldn't feel right lettin' you walk outta here with no place to go." He reaches over to squeeze my shoulder, and I think I already know I've lost this one, I won't get a better offer, but he seals the deal with his next question. "Do you have someplace else to go instead?"
"No," I breathe, and that's how I lose my home and find a new one all in the same day. "Can you promise me one thing, though? I mean, I'm already taking too much—"
"Don't be stupid, Lakely," Sullivan scoffs, wearing his standard, easy grin. "Let's have it, what's your request?"
Chewing my lip, I debate asking at all, finally deciding I need this. "Can you...keep it a secret? This is all going to blow up, and I just need some space."
His blue eyes betray the fact that he knows exactly what I'm really asking before his words do. "You want me to keep it a secret from Arlo."
"Just for now," I rush to explain, sighing hard when he chuckles and nods. He clearly doesn't completely understand my motives, but it's a relief when he purses his lips and nods again.
"Aight. But just for now. That kid needs to talk to you as much as you need to talk to him. You've got a week, tops. Deal?"
Smiling despite the absolute wreck my life is right now, I cross my heart. "Deal."
Raise your hand if you love Sully. *hand shoots up*
Thank you all for loving on these characters and me as much as you do. It means the world. Today I realized that I've officially written and published over 1 MILLION words since June 2016! That's just crazy! And most of you have stuck by me through every single one, no matter how much I've tested you.
cough *EC losing Bella to childbirth* cough
Biggest hugs to annaharding, maplestyle, and hotteaforme for being their awesome selves 3
Next update will be at the weekend, but you'll probably get it early because it's a crazy busy one xo