Pull (Seaside #2)(6)

I shoved my hands into my pockets and hurried into the store. Rain always depressed me. That meant I was living in the worst place on the planet. If I needed cheering up, I had to go tanning in order to soak up some fake sunlight.

Last Christmas my parents even put special lights in my room, so I would smile more.

I’ve smiled less ever since.

Well, until five days ago.

When that idiot rock star actually stood on a street corner and sang about Taffy, and then proceeded to roll his hips to the beat in his own head, I wanted to call him a dang fool, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away. Something about him was magnetic — which should have been my first clue to stay away.

Brady had been magnetic too. He was perfect, charismatic, the star of the football team.

And look where that love got me.

A year out of high school, still living with my parents, and the inability to drive anywhere more than an hour away for fear that I would have a panic attack and die.

I pushed the door to my parents’ store open. The bell jingled.

That idiot had started work today, and our sales had never been worse. He was such a spectacle that even people who didn’t know his music wanted to go check out the taffy store. Which was great for our competitors, crappy for us. It’s not as if I could just find some famous person and beg them to wear one of our shirts and throw taffy at people. What the heck was he doing anyway? I even watched him schmooze an old lady. Did the guy have any shame at all?

I would die before I let anything happen to my parents’

livelihood, and I would happily take Demetri with me. It wasn’t as if I had anything exciting going on now.

Shoving the door to the counter away, I went back to the stool and picked up my cell. Ten missed calls.

“Crap.” I quickly scrolled through the missed numbers.

It was Mrs. Murray, my counselor. I looked at the clock on the wall. “Crap!” I said again, grabbing my keys and running for the door. “Dad! I’m going to be late for my appointment!”

He appeared from the back room. “Oh, okay, Honey. You need me to drive you?” His eyes briefly held mine before looking down at the ground. He knew how uncomfortable cars made me after everything that had happened.

“Um, no. I’ll be fine. It’s only a few miles away. Love you!” I heard him tell me to be careful as I ran out the door.

****

I ran into the large beach house and practically beat down my counselor’s door.

“Alyssa! I was worried you weren’t going to make it.” Mrs.

Murray was in her late forties and wore spectacles that constantly slipped down her nose. Her brown hair was always in a bun, and she always dressed as if she was in a hurry. In fact, she did everything like she was in a hurry. Everything but the listening and talking part of her job. I imagined she would probably work in her sleep if she could.

I gave her a tight smile. “Yeah, well, I’m here.” If I didn’t show, she would just tell my parents, and then I’d be on suicide watch for no reason. At least that was the fear. It wasn’t as if she could do that based solely on the fact that I didn’t show up. But last time I didn’t show up… well, let’s just say my parents caught me in my bathroom staring at a bottle of ibuprofen and flipped. I told them I had a headache, but that was the exact moment my dad also asked me to open my hand. I swear the bottle had spilled, and I was just trying to put the pills back in. But they didn’t believe me.

Nobody did. Story of my life.

The smell of peppermint tea greeted me as I waltzed into the small office and took a seat on the leather couch. Mrs. Murray did an amazing job with the ambiance. I could almost forget that she was a shrink, and I was there to tell her all my innermost secrets and feelings — almost.

“So.” She fell into the leather chair across from me and pulled out her notepad. “We’re almost to the two-year anniversary of the incident.”

I wanted to give some sort of snide remark. I mean, hello? I was living this nightmare. Believe me, I knew exactly what the day was. I knew exactly how many days I had left, and even if I could forget, my nightmares constantly reminded me of the hell I was living every single day.

“Yup.” I managed to shrug nonchalantly. I should have been an actress. With a quick smile I leaned back onto the couch and exhaled, knowing what she was going to ask next.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“How do I feel?” I repeated, feeling the familiar anger thump through my chest. “I feel fan-freaking-tastic. I mean, I’ve learned so much about myself in these past two years. I’m going to take up watercolors to share my feelings. And hopefully, later this afternoon, I’ll frolic across the beach and giggle until I fall to my knees and pet a mermaid when it joins me on the sand.”

“Sarcasm.” Mrs. Murray scribbled something on her notepad and glanced back up. “Good. At least you’re not burying your anger inside anymore. What else?”

Sweat began to pool at the back of my neck as I fought to keep my emotions in check. My eyes flickered to the ground, and my breathing grew more and more shallow. “I hate it here.”

“We’ve been over this, Alyssa.” Mrs. Murray sighed. “I know you hate it here, but do you really think the best thing for you to do is escape your current situation? So, what? You run away instead of facing your fears? Your anxiety? Tell me how that will help you, and I’ll be all for it, Alyssa.”