The Lovely Reckless(62)
Another flash and the memory disappears in a split second.
“Frankie?” Marco touches my cheek. “What happened?”
“I just want to remember, too.”
CHAPTER 29
FRACTURED MEMORIES
Rain pelts my skin like bullets as I stand in front of the pool house and watch Marco leave. He’s walking backward, smiling at me, clothes soaked and hair plastered against his skin. I love his smile. And him.
He blows me a kiss just before he’s out of sight.
Not knowing when we’ll have a chance to be alone again—to kiss, share secrets, and all the other things you do with someone at the beginning of a relationship—leaves me feeling lost. Worrying about whether my dad will arrest the guy I’ve fallen for makes it even worse.
The odds are against Marco, and us. We agreed to meet in the basement by the Shop classroom before school in the mornings so we can see each other.
I go back to the main house, where Lex puts my clothes in the dryer while I copy the chemistry homework Marco completed into my own handwriting. It’s the first thing Dad will ask to see when I get home.
Lex drives, and I stare out the window, listening to the thump of the windshield wipers.
“Did you guys figure things out?” she asks eventually, without taking her eyes off the road.
Did we? I don’t even know.
“Some of it. But the situation is so complicated. I’m not sure if we can figure it all out.” I tilt my head to the side and lean against the passenger-side window.
“But he makes you happy?”
I look over at Lex and nod. “Happier than anyone or anything has ever made me. What about Abel?”
“Over the summer, things between us felt right. Like magic. And I let myself care … so much more than I ever have before.” Lex takes a deep breath. “He promised not to hurt me. Instead, he’s hurting himself. He doesn’t understand that it’s the same thing.”
“He’s lost. I know how that feels, Lex. He just has to find his way back.”
“What if he can’t?”
I take her hand. “Then we’ll find him ourselves.”
“Are you in love with Marco?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Does he know that?” Lex never lets me off easy.
“Does Abel know you’re in love with him?”
“I can’t afford to take that kind of chance with him. He’ll break my heart.” She sounds so sad and scared.
I tuck one of my legs underneath me. “Abel has been in love with you forever, Lex. He would never hurt you.”
“Not intentionally,” she says. “But people hurt each other all the time without meaning to. It doesn’t make it any easier when you’re the one who gets hurt.”
“You can’t hide from pain. I’ve tried.”
She turns onto the street that leads into Dad’s development. “At least it buys me some time.”
Dad’s Tahoe is parked out front.
Lex kills the engine, and rain bangs against the roof of the car. She leans over and hugs me. “Just take care of yourself, Frankie. I need my best friend.”
“Me too.”
I pull up the hood of my borrowed sweatshirt. The living room light glows in the apartment, and the drapes in front of the balcony doors slide open. I can’t see Dad through the rain, but I sense him watching me. “Wish me luck.”
“Luck,” Lex says as I jump out and run through the downpour.
By the time I make it to the stairs, I’m drenched. The second my key slides into the lock, Dad opens the door. I slip past him without a word and peel off the wet hoodie that weighs a ton now, along with my sneakers and socks.
“How did chemistry go?” he asks.
“Fine.” That’s all he’s getting from me.
“Can I see what you worked on?”
He’s so predictable.
“Why? Don’t you trust me, Dad?” I ask sarcastically.
He holds out his hand and I drop the binder on the table in front of him.
“I’ll be in my room. Just leave it on the kitchen table when you’re done.”
“Can you take a break from hating me for a few minutes? I’d like to talk.” He gestures at the chair across from him.
I take a seat. If he wants to talk, he can go first. He raps on the table a few times, then runs his hands over the stubble along his jawline. This is the Dad I’m used to—awkward and nervous around the daughter he barely knows.
“This isn’t how I wanted things to go between us.” He sighs. “I wasn’t happy about the reason you moved in, but I wanted you here. It felt like our chance to get to know each other and make up for lost time.”
“It’s called lost time for a reason. You can’t get it back once it’s gone. You want to get to know the old Frankie, not me.”
“You’re wrong. I know death affects people, and I warned your mom that Noah’s would change you. But your mother hears what she wants.”
I tried to tell her I wasn’t the same person, too. But Mom chalked it up to a temporary case of PTSD.
Dad watches me the way he always does—measuring my responses, noting my body language, judging. “I don’t care if you play the piano or go to Stanford. I want you to be yourself—the fearless little girl who drew on my bathroom walls with lipstick and wanted to help me catch bad guys. As you got older, that girl disappeared.”