Read Four Doors Down Online

Authors: Emma Doherty

Tags: #novel

Four Doors Down (16 page)

“I got my license. Want to go for a ride? We could drive down to the beach?”

He nodded in agreement. “Only if Jackson can come, he’ll be here any minute.”

“Ryan Jackson?” I asked, annoyed that he was coming over. “Isn’t he still at camp?” Ryan went to a football camp every summer to work on his game; Jake usually went too. As soon as I said it, I regretted it. I hated admitting I knew anything about Ryan’s life, but it was impossible sometimes not to pick up on what my mom and his mom would say when they were over at my house.

Jake shook his head. “No. He didn’t go.”

“He didn’t go?”

“No. He said he wanted to stay here with me this summer. He’s been here every day.”

My jaw fell open. Ryan Jackson could be that selfless? That good to his friend? Wow.

Jake chuckled at my reaction. “I know, nice, right?” When I didn’t respond, he laughed again. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him you don’t think he’s not a complete asshole.”

I rolled my eyes and followed Jake outside, and sure enough, there was Ryan, strolling up the drive. He stopped short when he saw me and nodded a greeting in my direction, looking surprised and a bit flustered. He didn’t look particularly thrilled when Jake announced we were going for a drive in my car, about as thrilled as I felt about taking him, but he didn’t put up any arguments. I don’t think either of us wanted Jake to pull the “I nearly died” card out and he obediently climbed into the backseat of my new car.

As I was checking my mirrors and pulling away from the curb, Jake turned to me. “So, Becca, you hook up with anyone at camp?”

“Like I’d tell you two,” I replied but blushed bright red, which Jake didn’t fail to spot.

“That means yes,” he told me triumphantly, which I didn’t argued with since it wasn’t a lie. Jake turned to Ryan in the backseat who was looking stonily ahead, paying no attention to the conversation. “Tick tock, Jackson, tick tock,” he said to him, smirking.

I shot him a dirty look.
Tick tock?
I didn’t care how long he thought it was taking me to get to the beach, I was not crashing my new car by rushing.

S
ometimes I think my mom is the best person in the world. I mean, she’s fearless. When she was eighteen years old, she backpacked around the world on her own. She explored the globe for eighteen months, going off the beaten track, working in orphanages in South East Asia, walking the Inka Trail in Peru, learning Spanish in Mexico and how to ride horses in Australia. She didn’t care that she was alone; she took off and made friends for life along the way who she still keeps in contact with today. Then she came back to America and went to college.

Now, my mom is beautiful, like really beautiful. Even I can see it and when I look at pictures of her from when she was a teenager, she looked like a model, but she has literally never cared about what she looks like. My dad says the first time he spotted her was at a student rally, protesting against a homeless shelter in the local town that was about to be knocked down. She’s incredibly passionate about things that she cares about. He took one look at her and knew he had to speak to her, but when he went over to introduce himself, she looked straight past him and went and started arguing with a nearby cop or something.

By all accounts, my dad was a pretty big deal in college. He was on a football scholarship and was tipped for the big time before he busted his knee. According to my uncle, he was a bit of a player, always with a different girl, but the day he saw my mom that all changed. He was desperate to meet her, to speak to her. Finally, he bumped into her at some party or another and watched her turn down several members of his football team with humor and good nature. He was completely besotted when he finally gathered up the courage to talk to her. She grinned at him, invited him to a debate she was going to the next day and that was it. He was locked down and they’ve been together ever since.

She graduated in the top ten of her class, went to law school, turned down a fancy job at a top law firm and instead works for legal aid, assisting those that she feels really need her help. Her and my dad are still crazy about each other. She told me it was tough for them after his football career ended, but he works as a sports journalist now and I think he’s pretty happy. The only crappy thing is that my mom’s suffered two miscarriages. One before me and one after. But she even turned that into a positive and set up a support group for mothers that have had similar experiences, and she still runs it to this day.

So, yeah, sometimes I think she’s the best person in the world.

Today is not one of those days.

“You cannot keep threatening to take my car from me every time you want me to do something!” I tell her vehemently.

She smiles calmly back at me. “Yes, I can. I paid for it, I can take it away.”

I let out a huff of annoyance. “I cannot pick Jay up twice a week from school, mom! I have plans and he has his own parents.”

Annoyance crosses her face. “You know how Aunt Ruth has been recently. I’m just asking you to help out more, Becca. I’m slammed at work and need your help.”

“This is so unfair,” I bark back at her, conveniently forgetting how I’d vowed to make more effort with Jay. Don’t get me wrong, I make more effort to talk to him and play with him when I see him now, but why does my schedule have to change around him?

“Becca, I am genuinely worried about your aunt. You could show a little thought for someone other than yourself for once and help me out,” she snaps back at me. I bite my lip to stop from retaliating. I think she’s being completely unreasonable, but she hardly ever snaps and shouts at me, so she must be really worried about Aunt Ruth. I don’t know why, she can take care of herself, she’s just letting off some steam.

I set my mouth into a firm line and cross my arms.

She sighs and offers me a small smile. “I’m sorry, Becca, I’m just a little stressed.”

I nod but don’t smile back at her.

“How about I take you shopping this weekend?” she offers. Now I know she feels bad for snapping. “We could make a day of it, grab some lunch? I know we haven’t spent much time together recently and Jay’s around a lot more now.”

“You actually think I’m jealous of you spending time with Jay? Give me some credit, mother!” For some reason, I can feel tears tickling the back of my eyes.

She frowns.

“Just tell me whatever you want me to do it and I’ll do it, all right?” My voice cracks slightly and I get up to leave the room before she starts interrogating me.

Too late.

“Sit, Becca. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Becca, I know you. Something’s wrong.” I look away from her, sit back down at the table and stare down at my phone. Surprise, surprise still no message from Charlie. I’ve really messed up this time. “You know, I’m a really good listener, Becca. You can talk to me about anything,” she continues.

I shrug and she sits down across from me, watching me carefully, waiting for me to speak.

“I’ve not seen Charlie around for a while,” she finally says.

My eyes shoot up and I see the sympathetic smile she’s giving me. “You know Becca, sometimes things don’t work out the way we want them to.”

I sigh. “I messed up.”

“If he can’t see how special you are and how lucky he is to have you, then he’s not worth it.”

I scowl in her direction. Of course she’s going to say that to me. She’s my mom, she’s bound to think that. “You know plenty of guys would love to date you, Becca.”

“Mom, stop. You don’t know anything.”

“I can think of at least one boy from your school that I’m pretty certain would love to date you,” she says smiling at me. I roll my eyes. How on earth would my mom know any of the guys at my school? Much less who they want to date. Besides, even if that were true and not just her obvious attempt to cheer me up, I don’t want any of the losers from my school. Charlie’s the only guy I’ve ever felt like this about.

The doorbell rings. When I make no move to answer it, my mom sighs and goes to open the door while I stare at my phone, debating if I should call Charlie.

My mom clears her throat behind me and I turn to see her standing in the doorway with Charlie behind her. My jaw falls open slightly, I’m so shocked to see him here. He’s picked me up from my house countless times, but he’s never been in, not whilst my parents have been home. He’s always messaged to tell me to come outside or beeps his horn. My mom raises an eyebrow in my direction, then excuses herself from the room. Charlie looks at me and offers a small smile. I return it tentatively.
Please don’t break up with me.
He wouldn’t be smiling at me if he were going to break up with me, right?

He walks over and sits down beside me.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him immediately. “I shouldn’t have picked a fight. I didn’t mean it.”

“You know, Becca, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a girlfriend. I guess I just forgot about checking in all the time and seeing you all the time. You were right, I should have called more. I was busy, but that’s all, I promise. There’s no one else. Just you.”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

He smiles. “Just don’t start fights again for no reason, okay?”

I actually feel weak with relief. I clamber onto his knee, wrap my arms around him and kiss him like my mom’s not in the house. He pulls away after a minute and picks my arms up from around his neck, turning my hands over so that my palms are facing him. He slowly starts to stroke my left wrist, running his finger over the skin softly. It feels relaxing and intimate and wonderful.

“You know, your wrist has been looking a little empty,” he tells me.

I pull my eyes away from my wrist and look up at him. He’s smiling at me. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a simple silver charm bracelet. I gasp in surprise.

He remembered!

A couple of months ago I lost the charm bracelet my mom got me for my sixteenth birthday. I spent days and days looking for it but eventually figured it must have fallen off at some point. My mom was furious but not as pissed as I was. I loved that bracelet. I wore it every day and was devastated I’d lost it.

Charlie reaches for my wrist and gently fastens the clasp. The bracelet has just one charm on it—a guitar. “The guitar is for me,” he tells me. “So even if I’m off doing my thing, I’ll always be with you.”

I grin from ear to ear. I don’t care how cheesy that is, it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. It’s like in the olden days when boys used to give their girlfriends their signet ring. This is what that feels like. It feels like a commitment. He reaches over and pulls my head down to meet his and gives me the sweetest, gentlest kiss imaginable.

I love him. I actually love him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him when he grins mischievously at me, glancing toward the door to make sure my mom’s not hovering nearby. “You know my parents are out tonight,” he whispers.

Relief floods me. He’s forgiven me and everything’s back to normal. I nod my head and let him pull me to my feet. I yell goodbye to my mom and I’m out the door and in Charlie’s car thanking God that everything is back to normal and that he still wants me.

S
am and I are sitting with Erica at a table outside of school. Erica has just been dumped by her latest boyfriend and is suitably devastated. Well, it
is
her birthday so pretty crappy timing. Personally, I don’t think it’s that big a loss. I mean, the guy was shorter than her and permanently reeked of garlic, but being the good friend that I am, I went and picked up a box of donuts after school and brought them back for after she finished drama club. I’m on my third with half the box to go when I look up and see Jake, Ryan, John, Mason and another girl, Katie, standing by the table.

“Hey guys,” Jake says and sits down. Ryan and Mason join him while John and Katie step closer standing just behind them. I frown but manage to stop myself from pulling a face. Apparently Ryan and I are on speaking terms again now, so I can’t exactly moan if he sits at the same table as me. And he did buy me all that candy.

“Who bought those?” Ryan asks, nodding at the donuts.

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