#Rev (GearShark #2)(59)

Assuming he would want me to touch him then.

Yes, yes, I knew he’d chosen me. I knew he said he was proud to love me. But later, when we were in the quiet of the hotel room we were going to have to go and find (we were supposed to stay here), things might feel different. His veins wouldn’t be pumping with anger and challenge. The stinging hurt from his father’s rebuff would be felt deeper… and perhaps Drew would begin to feel regret.

Instead of letting the door slam behind me, I carefully pushed it closed. It seemed far harsher to leave quietly than to bang away. Sometimes silence carried more impact than noise.

At the car, Drew climbed in the driver’s seat. I didn’t say a word. I tossed the bags in the back and took up shotgun. He fired up the engine, and threw it in reverse.

We weren’t in the Fastback, and this car wasn’t equipped for mad speed. But he needed to drive; he needed the release.

I rolled down my window to let in the air, and he floored it all the way across the property. The wind whipped through the interior, pulling at my hair and clothes. The air smelled like sunshine, and the rumble of the engine was familiar.

Just before we took a turn that would lead us out onto the main road and toward town, where I assumed we’d find a room for the night, Drew pulled the emergency brake and drifted to a stop.

The engine ran idly, and his hair was a windblown wreck.

In one motion, he leaned forward, draped his forearms over the steering wheel, and bowed his head. His shoulders shook.

I hesitated for long seconds, my hand hovering over the broad expanse of his back before settling firmly between his shoulder blades. I felt the breath hitch in his body, and I searched for any way I could somehow take away his pain.

In that moment, it seemed maybe not having a father was a blessing in disguise because at least when a man didn’t have one, he didn’t have to worry about being disowned.

I rubbed gently against his back.

Drew stilled and slowly pulled back off the wheel.

His eyes were damp when he looked at me. My chest squeezed.

“C’mere,” I whispered and opened my arms.

He came, tucking himself right against my chest. The tip of his nose was cold, and he pressed it to my neck. I ducked my head and folded my arms around his body.

His fingernails dug into my back and his body shuddered.

And there on the side of the road, I held him.





Drew

Some hurt burned.

Some hurt ached.

And some hurt was so potent it left you feeling numb.

I’m not sure what was worse: telling my parents about Trent or finding out they were only human. In a way, I’d walked through life disillusioned just like most children. From the day we’re born, parents aren’t really people. They’re pillars of strength, examples of humanity, and somewhat exempt from the cruelty of the outside world.

Until they aren’t.

Until the illusions are shattered and a child turns into an adult.

It’s hard to look upon your parents with the childlike ideals you grew up with when it’s through eyes of experience.

The disappointment of learning my parents weren’t everything I thought they were was a bitter pill to swallow. In fact, I think that pill was still stuck in my throat, lodged there and refusing to go down.

I couldn’t even be angry, but I wanted to be. Part of me wanted to rage and yell. To declare how unfair life was and how dare my own father deem I wasn’t worthy enough to be his blood anymore.

All I felt was sadness. Like a part of me was in mourning. Like I’d just spent my day at a funeral… for a piece of my life.

I knew not everyone would accept T and me. I anticipated it. But I expected better from them.

Maybe my father thought his “tough” love approach would somehow make me see reason. It didn’t. All today managed to do was drive me closer to Trent. It was him, after all, who wrapped his arms around me when all was said and done. It was him who didn’t demand I choose or draw lines in the sand.

I learned something today in the midst of that fight.

All love was not created equal. It wasn’t a birthright. It wasn’t earned by blood. Love wasn’t guaranteed.

Really pure love was hard to come by.

It didn’t matter where it was found. All that mattered was that we held on when it was.

I chose a local hotel that wasn’t nearly as swanky as the one we stayed at in Maryland. It was a mid-range place that was clean and close to the interstate. It would be an easy drive back to the airport tomorrow.

Our room was a typical one-room place. In the center was a giant king-size bed with a flat-screen on the wall, a couple dressers, and a small desk and chair near the window.

Not too far from here were lots of restaurants I hadn’t been to in years, some bars, an outdoor mall, and a movie theater. There was also a place where you could go hiking and take in some of the scenery.

I didn’t feel like doing any of that.

I knew my parents would likely be disappointed, but I never honestly thought they’d disown me.

You’re not welcome in this house.

“I think I might call the airline, see if there’s an earlier flight back to Maryland tomorrow,” I said. I don’t know why, but my voice sounded strange to my own ears.

“You sure you wanna do that?” Trent asked from over by the window.