Tailspin (Better Than You), Page 5

  I place my hand on her forehead and push her back. “Hey!” she screams as she falls on the floor, her legs coming uncrossed beneath her.

  “Let’s go wake J. I want pancakes.”

  8

  July 19, 2007

  Heather looks exactly the same as the day she walked out of my life, leaving me naked and alone in the middle of my dark, empty house. A part of me wants to walk over to her, pick up the iced caramel macchiato she’s sipping and wrap my lips around the straw while smiling at her suggestively, but the other part of me still resents the fact that she up and left when I needed her most. So instead, I ignore the people sitting around me and secretly watch her; the way she picks up her pen and sets it down several times before finally writing something down, her finger skimming across some unseen words in some thick book. Everything about her is exactly the same. I didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

  There hasn’t been time to think about Heather and what we had; whether it was real enough to miss or not. The sex was great, and maybe that’s what I miss, but I think it’s more than that. I think maybe it may have been all along and I was just too dense to see it or to allow myself to feel it. But in the months and now years since my parents’ death, feeling things has seemed to be the only thing I can do now. I’m different, and she’s not. I’ve changed, and she’s sitting there completely unaware of the better person I’ve become.

  “Jackson, are you listening?”

  Jackson. I snap my head back to the circle of people surrounding me, four pairs of eyes staring back at me patiently. What were they saying? What were we talking about? Clementine’s head starts to turn toward Heather, where I had been staring for god knows how long, and I know that I have to say something to bring her attention back to me, Jackson, and away from Heather, who knows Nathan.

  I force a light chuckle and say, “Sorry guys. Zoned out for a sec. What were you saying?” I direct the question towards Casmir, who likes to be called Cas, and smile.

  “We were talking about the post-riot party we’re planning, for whoever can make it. Which, if everything goes according to plan, will be all of us.”

  I glance at Clementine, whose eyes are directed back towards the middle of our group, and breathe a small sigh of relief. Focusing on keeping my back turned toward Heather, I listen to the rest of the conversation; where the party is and what time and who will bring what. This’ll be the big party; the one where I’ll send a three letter text and watch, from a safe distance, as once again the people I’ve befriended are brought down. It didn’t take much convincing to get Chief to see why I shouldn’t be involved in the final show. If I’m simply not there to see it or to be blamed, maybe my newly acquired friends will think I just disappeared for my own good. I’ll never see them again regardless but at least this way my name is clean. Well, Jackson is at least.

  Clementine and Casmir are brother and sister and son and daughter to the owners of Northwestern Meat, Inc., one of Miami’s biggest meat distributors. They also happen to be hardcore vegans. In their spare time, they like to organize secretly run riots, pilfer money from their unsuspecting asshole father, and throw parties where everyone gets so high off of LSD that they can’t differentiate between morning and night. They’re my targets. Anyone else who gets brought down along with them is just extra credit.

  For some reason, maybe because it isn’t my first time and I knew what to expect, this mission hasn’t been as hard. It’s been easier to slip into a pretend life and keep things straight. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel guilty when Clem slipped her hand into mine and looked up at me, her wild hair flying in the light breeze, and told me that she’s happy to have met me. “What are the odds?” she had said, a bright smile on her face and her insanely green eyes crinkled in happiness.

  “Obviously pretty good,” I had told her and smiled back, all the while mentally punching myself. Chief wasn’t lying when he told me he was relying on my charm; it’s gotten me into the best possible positions on both of my missions.

  It’s irrational and idiotic, but when Clem leans into me in the café, with Heather just feet away from us, I subtly move back, just in case Heather looks over and sees us sitting there. But she doesn’t ever glance over, despite the willing of my desperate eyes. When our meeting is done, Heather is still sitting there, her caramel macchiato now empty and the notebook page full.

  I know I shouldn’t. It could ruin everything. But I have to. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. “Hey Clem, I’ll be right out,” I tell her, and then wait as they walk out of the café. I turn towards Heather and take a step, and then another, and another, all the while thinking about her hair that I had always said was brown and she had always insisted was auburn. Maybe she was right after all. How many arguments could I have avoided if I’d just agreed?

  I’m standing beside her now, waiting for her to look up and meet my eyes, but she’s so engrossed in whatever she’s reading that she doesn’t look my way. I have to say something to get her attention, but I can’t think of one fucking thing after all this time. A flash of light catches my eye and it’s only then that I see the ring on her left hand; a huge rock glittering in the late afternoon sun. The possibility of her having moved on didn’t even cross my mind, but of course she moved on. She’s the one who left.

  Without thinking, I take a step back. The corner of a chair catches my arm and makes the smallest of noises, but it’s enough to pull Heather’s attention in my direction. When she sees me, her mouth drops open and her hands still. “Nathan?” she whispers, surprise in her voice.

  I run a hand through my hair and rub the back of my neck. “Hey, Heather.”

  She looks around the café, like this is some sort of joke and she’s expecting someone to pop out of the walls and yell you just got punked. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was, uh, meeting with some friends. From work. Coworkers.”

  “Oh. Right.” She smiles slightly. “Wanna sit down for a bit? I need a break.” As she stretches out her hand, I take the seat across from her, careful to keep my expression blank. But there’s a diamond ring on her finger. A fucking rock.

  “Congratulations,” I blurt out.

  She looks up at me, taken aback, and then glances at the ring on her finger. “Oh, thanks,” she says, looking like she’s just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “It just happened a few days ago.”

  I nod, and I try to smile, but I think it just comes out as a grimace. A few days ago. She’s engaged. She’s getting married. “How have you been?” I ask, trying to keep things from getting more awkward than they already are.

  “Really good, actually. I just started a nursing program at a school up in Tampa. It’s a lot of work,” she gestures at the books and notes surrounding her, “but I really love it. I’m just here visiting my parents.” She puts her hands in front of her and fidgets with her ring. “How about you?”

  “I’m good. I’ve been good. Busy, you know, but we’re good.” That was a lot of goods.

  She doesn’t respond right away, but when she finally looks up at me, her eyes are glassy and red. “I’m sorry I didn’t- I’m sorry I wasn’t-” She stops and takes a deep breath. “You were so angry and so sad and I just didn’t know what to do or how to help. I ran, and I’m so sorry.”

  It feels good to hear her apologize, like maybe we could make things right between us. But she’s engaged. She’s getting married. She sees me glancing at the ring and drops her hands underneath the table. “There were so many times when I would start to call you and hang up, or I would start to drive to your house and turn around. I wanted to talk to you so badly, but you never tried to contact me. You disappeared and I thought that meant you didn’t want-”

  “My parents had just died, Heather. I didn’t think about anything other than getting Joshua to talk and getting Emily to stop hating me and running dad’s bar and trying desperately to make things work.”

  Heather’s mouth opens and then closes, like
a fish out of water, while her brows furrow in confusion. “Joshua stopped talking?”

  I sigh and run my hands over my face. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I saw you sitting here and I thought- I don’t know what I thought. But it’s okay. It really is. You didn’t have to stick around, cause I’m sure it was fucking depressing as hell. I don’t blame you.” I shake my head and stand. “Anyway, it was good to see you. I’m glad you’re happy.”

  “Nathan, wait.” She stops me with a hand on my arm. “I feel like there’s so much I want to talk about.”

  I can’t help but glance at her ring again. It’s like a big warning sign to stay away. Like caution tape in the form of platinum and diamonds. A big fuck you from God, and I can take a hint. I open my mouth to respond at the exact moment a voice calls my name. Well, one of my names.

  “Jackson?” Clem says from behind me. Holding my breath, I watch as Heather first looks behind her, and then at Clem, and then at me, her eyes filled with confusion. I shake my head ever so slightly, hoping she understands the gesture. She drops my arm quickly and then turns her attention to Clementine.

  I turn my back on Heather and smile at Clem. “Hey, sorry. I was just saying hi to an old friend.”

  “Are you ready to go?” she asks quickly.

  “Yeah. We were just saying bye.” I turn back to Heather and swallow down the wave of anxiety pushing up. “It was good to see you.”

  She cocks her head to the side, a snide smile on her face. “You too, Jackson.” She probably thinks I’m lying to her for the fun of it, or that I make up a different name with every girl. Either way, it’s better than the truth. We hold each other’s gazes for a few more seconds before I turn and place my arm around Clem’s shoulders. She falls into step beside me. I can feel Heather’s eyes on my back, judging and jumping to conclusions. It’s all I can do to keep walking instead of turning around and setting the record straight, but I know that I got lucky this time; I can’t afford to make another mistake.

  ~~

  When I reach the gazebo that the Chief and I agreed was far enough away from the house, I send the text and lean against the salt-weathered wood railing. The party noises can still be heard, and if I stare long enough and hard enough, I can make out the faces of the people hanging out on the deck. Clem’s one of them, waiting there for me to return.

  Within three minutes, the noises from the party have changed from shrieks of laughter to screams of panic. People pour onto the previously somewhat empty deck, some of them taking the ten foot drop into the sand but most of them barreling through the crowded stairs. I lose track of Clementine and feel my heart begin to beat wildly against my chest. What if she gets hurt? What if she gets away? I’m conflicted again, despite my attempts to remain unaffected. Part of me wishes for her to escape while the other part wants nothing more than approval from my squad and Chief. Before I’m forced to make a decision, like going and finding her myself, a few of the SWAT guys run out onto the deck, take the ten foot drop like it’s nothing, and start running after someone very specific. They tackle Clem to the ground, roughly pulling her hands behind her back and securing her wrists with a zip tie. I shove a fist in my mouth and bite down to keep from screaming. I have to physically will myself to stay in this gazebo.

  It’s worse than watching them do it to Hannah. At least in the end she was able to find out that I was nothing but a liar and a fake. Clem’s head whips back and forth, as if she’s looking for someone, probably her brother and most likely for me, too. She’ll always wonder what happened to me; if I ditched when the cops came or before. She’ll think I didn’t care enough to save her. She’ll think I abandoned her. She’ll think that the last eleven weeks was nothing but a lie.

  And the worst part is, all of it is true.

  9

  February 17th, 2009

  Bright morning light filters into my room, blinding my aching eyes with its intensity. I had too much to drink last night. It’s too early to be up. All I can think about is sliding the covers over my head and pretending like I don’t have a million things to do today. Emily seems to have other plans, though, as she barges into my room and lets the door slam against the wall.

  “Where the hell were you last night?” she yells. I can feel the vibrations of her high pitched voice against my skull.

  “Damn, Em, lower your voice.” I wrap the pillow around my head and squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe if I ignore her then she’ll go away.

  My arms are nearly ripped out of my sockets as the pillow is pulled free. “Nathan. Seriously. What’s going on?”

  I sigh and meet her eyes as best as I can. “Nothing’s going on, Em. I was…working.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “Working.”

  “Yes. Working.”

  “Until four in the morning?” She sits on the edge of the bed. “And your work involves drinking? I swear to God it smells like someone doused your room in a bottle of whiskey.” She scrunches her nose.

  “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m sorry I was loud and I woke you up, but it won’t happen again.” The truth is, I was working. I’ve been in on this assignment for the past two months and I’ve made absolutely no progress. They drink a lot, but no one’s made any of the illegal stuff known to me. I’m hoping that’ll change, and soon, because living this life of drinking all night and working all day is really fucking things up. “What time is it?” I ask her as I look around the room.

  “It’s just past noon,” she says as she stands.

  “Shit. I’m supposed to be at the bar to interview a few people.” I stand and take a deep breath, waiting for the ground to stop tilting underneath me.

  “Joshua’s at school, in case you were wondering.”

  “How did he- wait,” I say and look at her. “Why aren’t you in class?”

  She rolls her eyes and turns her back on me. When she’s at the door, she turns and says, “Interview, remember? I told you like twenty times this week. You really need to get your shit together, Nathan.”

  And then she slams the door and my head throbs in response. I dress quickly and rush out of the house, making it to the bar just before one. There’s supposed to be two people interviewing, according to Kait, and the first one should be here already. I turn the corner, walking towards the bar, and see a girl in insanely high heels walking up to the door. She stumbles a bit and I reach her just in time, slipping my arm around her waist and saving her from a humiliating fall. Her dark hair fans over her face as she tips forward, and then she turns in my arms and lifts her face to mine. And I’m stunned. She’s beautiful, in an exotic way, with eyes like melted honey and skin that looks smooth and silky. I’m overcome with the strangest urge to run my fingertip across her cheek, just to see if it’s as smooth as it looks.

  I realize I’m staring, but she’s staring at me, too. Straight into my eyes, like she’s looking for something she swears is there. My eyes flit down to her lips, to the corner that has a little bit of dry skin. I want to lick it away. “You okay?” I ask softly, afraid to break this moment or scare her away but more afraid of what I might do if I don’t let her go. She steps back, out of my arms, and I immediately miss the warmth of her body against mine.

  Tugging on her shirt, she says, “Sorry about that.”

  Now that she’s farther away from me, I realize that she looks familiar. I know her from somewhere, but I just can’t place where. “It’s no big deal.”

  Her face…I just can’t think of where I might know her from. Maybe she’s a regular? One of the girls’ friends? “I have to go,” she says. “Interview.” She hooks her thumb over her shoulder, towards the bar. My bar.

  I smile, glad to know that I’ll have the chance to talk to her more. I want to know her name. I want to feel her skin underneath mine. But first thing’s first- “You’re right on time, then,” I say, and she looks confused. Holding out my hand, I add, “I’m Nathan. I’ll be interviewing you.”

  Her honey eyes drop to my hand as she tucks a piece of
hair behind her ear. I see her shoulders rise slightly and then drop, as if she’s taking a deep breath. It’s as if she’s mentally preparing herself to touch me. She puts her tiny hand in mine and smiles. Again I find myself fighting the urge to never let her go.

  “I’m Logan,” she says, and realization hits me at the same time as her sweet as sin voice. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Suddenly, I know where I recognize her from. Her face is one of the ones I was forced to study before taking my current assignment. She’s Logan Reynolds, girlfriend of the douchebag I got wasted with last night. The air around us is calm, blowing softly and carrying the sounds of the beach and laughter our way. I’m tempted to tell her to turn around and go home, to leave this bar and no, she can’t have a job. But there’s just something about her, something that makes me want to pull her into me and keep her safe. She can get you closer to them, a voice whispers in my head.

  Then I’m speaking, before I’ve even made a conscious decision. “Let’s head inside and get started.”

  I can hear the click of her heels against the wood floor as she follows me to the office. Once I’m sitting at the desk, her file in front of me, I start to think. Logan. What kind of a name is that for a girl? My eyes gloss over her information, picking up on the stuff I missed before. Where she worked before, why she was fired, how much experience she has. I’m going to kill Kait for withholding this information.

  “So,” I say, breaking the tense silence, “it says here that you worked in a restaurant for a little while? What did you do?”

  She smiles and I can tell it’s fake, as if I’m wasting her time. “I started off as a hostess and then I moved to waitressing.”