Slow Twitch - Реинхардт Лиз (бесплатные серии книг .txt) 📗
I saw the front door swing open. “Jake? Is that you, love?” she called.
I opened the truck door and headed to the stairs. She was above me, the way she’d been with Saxon the other day, the step up making her feel taller, and mom-like. I didn’t have to say anything or ask anything. She just held her arms out for me and I stepped into them and held onto her for a few minutes.
And like a huge puss, I started crying. Soon I was blubbering like a baby, but she didn’t freak or tell me to stop or get embarrassed. Nothing.
She just let me pour it out.
“Shh, love. That’s okay.” Her voice was the kind people only use for babies and little kids. “You have a little cry if you need to. That’s a boy. You’re just fine.” Her voice was really calm and soft and good. She ran her hand over my hair over and over and her other hand patted my back while she held tight.
And when my bizarre tirade was done, she led me into the house and made me lay down on the couch. She put a cold washrag on my head and brought me tea and cookies and sat in a chair close to me.
She put her hand on my head, then flipped the washcloth over so the cool side was against my skin again. We were completely quiet for a few minutes.
“I’m really sorry,” I said finally, sniffling like a damn baby.
She clucked her tongue. “Hush. Sorry for what? I only hope you would come to me when you feel a little down. I’m happy to have you here.” She smiled, her tanned, wrinkled face so kind and sweet, I almost felt like bawling again.
Almost. I got a handle on myself.
“Brenna and I had a fight. Sort of,” I admitted.
She looked right at me and nodded.
And then it all spilled out. All of it. The dumb shit I had done in my past, the way Saxon and I had just stopped, that day that Brenna walked into my class and I just knew she was it for me, our breakup, our summer, my family, my stepdad. By the time I was done, the room was almost dark, and I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of me. I had never, ever been able to just spill everything like that before.
Aunt Helene patted my arm and clicked on a lamp. The light blinded me for a second. “You’re a smart boy, Jake. A good boy. I know that you’ll do what’s right. And Brenna is a good girl. But you need to let her grow and feel. And you need to do the same. Even if it hurts. Even if you have to let go of some things. Do you understand?”
I nodded. Even though I didn’t really understand. Because when I thought about letting go of Brenna, my mind just closed down. I didn’t even want to entertain the thought.
“She wrote this essay this summer. It’s going to be put in a collection. She wanted me to read it. She was afraid it would hurt my feelings.” I looked at Aunt Helene, pleading with her to give me an answer I could live with.
“It might hurt. If Brenna thinks it might hurt, it will. You have to be strong.” Her little wrinkled hand pressed on mine.
“I will.” I said it, but I didn’t mean it. I didn’t even want to read the damn thing.
At that crazy, embarrassing minute Saxon burst in, grabbed Aunt Helene around the waist and swung her up and around.
She laughed a dry, happy laugh, and he put her down gently and kissed her cheek. Then he saw me.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he demanded.
Aunt Helene tried to shush him. I wished I were anywhere but there.
“Nothing. I was going.” I stood and felt around for my keys, but they’d slid out of my pocket and were buried in the couch cushions.
“No, no, no!” Aunt Helene said, her voice loud and a little angry. We both turned and stared. Aunt Helene never sounded anything but happy and sweet. “You are brothers. You need to tell him all this, Jake. Saxon will help you with this.”
Saxon? Saxon, my shithead, misfit, asshole brother? He must have seen the look on my face.
“No can do.” He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “I’m going out to see Cadence in a little while.”
“She will understand,” Aunt Helene growled. “Get the paper, Jake. You go figure this out. Now.”
I went out to the truck and seriously contemplated getting in and driving away. But I couldn’t stand to think of Aunt Helene disappointed. Or pissed. So I grabbed the paper and came back into the house and followed Saxon into his room.
It smelled a little like old smoke, but it was neat and clean, surprisingly. He usually kept his room like a sty.
“Aunt Helene wouldn’t put up with a mess,” he said, answering the question I didn’t bother to ask.
“We don’t have to do this.” I sat on his bed. He sat next to me.
He pointed to the paper. “Bren wrote that?”
“Yeah.”
“And whatever it is has you all fucked up?”
“Yeah.” I had no desire to go into the whole thing with him.
“Give me a minute to call Cadence, okay?” I nodded and he pulled out his cell. “Hey, babe. Jake dropped by and I gotta talk to him about some shit. Is it cool if I’m a little late? Yeah.” He laughed. “You too. C’mon, you’re giving me a hard-on talking like that. Alright. Wait up for me. Soon.” He clicked off.
It was his face that was so shocking. He looked totally fucking in love. It was a freaky look for Saxon. It didn’t even look like him, somehow.
“So it’s working? With Cadence?” I asked, Brenna’s paper tight in my fist.
“Yeah, bro.” He grinned. “Holy shit, she’s fucking hot and funny and smart. I just hope she doesn’t get sick of me and kick me to the fucking curb, you know?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I do know.”
Saxon and I looked at each other and nodded our mutual understanding. “Give me that paper, Kelly. Everyone knows you can’t read for shit, and I don’t have all night. I’ve got a girl wearing very sexy underclothing waiting for me.” He glanced over the paper, and his eyes went a little wide.
I was pissed that I hadn’t tried harder to get through it. What was he reading?
“Are you going to read it?” I asked, totally impatient and dreading the whole thing at the same time.
He looked at me, his brow furrowed. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll read it.” He cleared his throat and started. “‘I’m in love. Twice. It’s not a love that divides fifty-fifty. It’s not a love that’s split between good and bad, safe and dangerous, real and imaginary. It’s a mixed up, confused, good, bad, and ugly love, times two, and it’s all mine.
‘The beginning? The beginning of my first love was just infatuation and impression, and it quickly turned to warning bells in my inexperienced brain and a note to self; ‘Stay away! Far away!’ Just when it felt safe to take a breath and forget the pull of my heart (and other parts), I fell again, head over heels, uncontrollably and without a chance to grab hold before it swallowed me hard and whole. He seemed like everything I would imagine was too good to be true. But who wants that anyway? Too good to be true would have been too boring to handle. I found some bad that was a relief and, also, a big, colossal, system-smashing shock!’”
‘Fast forward through late night kisses, stolen sneaked moments in each others’ arms, long rides in old trucks and fast cars, the smell of cigarette smoke and crisp fall air, the roar of dirt bikes, the flat kick of a soccer ball, and over it all, the pounding of my heart as I pedal and run, run and pedal, sometimes towards it all, and sometimes as far away, as fast as I can.’”
‘I’m in love twice, and why not? I have two eyes to look at them with. I have two ears to hear their stories and jokes. I have two arms; I could hold each one if I wanted. But I only have one mouth. And I only have one heart. I failed division in elementary school. I failed fractions, too. So I don’t know how to divide and fracture the way I should.’”
‘I’m in love twice, and each love is different, unique, incomparable. Asking me to choose between the two loves is like asking me to choose between two parents. Even with that example in mind, I know there’s one parent I feel closer to, one I share it all with, one who is better for me. But that doesn’t mean the other parent doesn’t matter. In fact, the other parent fills in things the first couldn’t. Sacrificing one would mean the death of my parents as a whole. Just like sacrificing one of them would be the death of my whole love.’”
