Panic (9 page)

“Thanks so much, Ford. Is that what’s in the envelope?”

“No, that shit’s over there in the living room. This,” he says, holding up the envelope, “is your future.”

I hold my breath for a moment and then let it out. “What’s in it?”

“Everything you’ll need to apply to CU Boulder and an interview with the film department head.”

“What?” I’m stunned. “How? And why? I’ll never get in so soon, Ford. I’m not even done with one semester. And I might suck at this college stuff, I’m not doing well in math, so maybe—”

“Stop,” Ford says in a serious voice. “You’ll be fine. I’ve already chatted with the higher-ups and they’re giving you life credit for the reality show work. That’s enough to declare film your major. You
will
have to actually get in. But really, Rook, if I did all this, do you think I’d leave you hanging?”

I shake my head. He never would, I know this to be true.

“I’ve got a lot more in this envelope but we’ll do that later this week.”

“Good,” Spencer says through a mouthful of spaghetti. “Because this school shit is boring the fuck out me. Let’s talk about bikes. Or tits.”

“How did I get here? We’re
Three’s Company
. Spencer is airhead Chrissy, Ford is intellectual Janet, and I’m pretending to be gay so I don’t notice that you two are roommate eye-candy.”

Spencer looks over to Ford. “What the hell did that have to do with tits?”

Ford just shakes his head and laughs.

God, I love these guys.

Chapter Thirteen - ROOK

After dinner Spencer goes out to the shop to work on his bikes and Ford kicks back on the couch, setting up my camera, as I do dishes. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘fuck’.

“How’s it going in there?”

“Fuck.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know. I can ask one of the camera guys tomorrow.”

He grunts in response.

“You know, I think that white thing on the floor by your foot is actually the manual.”

He looks up at me slowly and screws up his face, then goes back to pretending to not need said three-hundred-page book on the floor.

Typical man.

“Tell me what this school stuff is about, Ford. I’m starting to freak out a little. I’m not ready for that. I’m barely making it in math and—”

“I hired you a tutor, stop worrying,” he says as he messes with a camera lens.

“What tutor?”

“At the community college. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays at seven PM. Just show up, I already set it up and he’ll show you exactly what to do so you pass the tests.”

I’m staring at him over the bar that separates the kitchen from the living room. “Him who?”

“Um—” Ford gets up and grabs the envelope and shuffles though the paperwork. “Gage something. He’s a senior in engineering. Sounds like a real nerd, which means he’s perfect.” Ford goes back to the camera gear and snaps in the battery. “There, I think it’s ready now. But
you
will need to read the manual, otherwise you might as well be using your iPhone to make movies.”

I start the dishwasher and go plop down on the couch next to Ford. “Thank you. I’m so excited about this. I’m gonna start making movies like now.”

He puts his arm around me and gives me a squeeze. “You’re gonna be good at this, I can tell. You wanna go shoot Spencer in compromising positions and then edit the shit out of it to make him look stupid?”

I lean over and kiss Ford on the cheek. It’s impulsive and he almost has a small freakout before he shuts it off. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but you’re awesome.”

He disentangles himself from me and gets up, pulling me up with him. “I enjoy it, Rook. Being with you feels normal. I should be thanking you.”

We grab all the gear and spend the rest of the evening fucking around with Spencer in the shop. We even get him to lip-sync that
Bad to the Bone
song into a socket wrench. And by the time I get back to my basement apartment I’m feeling a lot better about my decision to come up here and live with Spence to do this show. My phone beeps an incoming text just as I settle back on my couch and turn on the TV.

My heart flutters a little as I read the text.

Dear Rook (AKA Gidget),

I’ve never had the urge to write a love letter but I’m lying in bed, looking over at your side, wondering if I can somehow change your mind about this whole deal and talk you into coming the fuck home. (I’m a selfish asshole, I know.) But I get that you need this so I’ll just say this instead: I felt like I was leaving a piece of my soul behind the moment I left. And every second that passes, I miss you like that, times a million.

Love,

Ronin (AKA Larue)

I press call under his name and he picks up on the first ring. “Ronin Flynn, you are like a door.”

He laughs. “It was that touching, huh?”

“Not a window where you can see through to the other side and be sure of what’s coming. But a door, still closed and leading to every opportunity imaginable and requiring a leap of faith that the risk is worth it. You are my doorway to endless possibilities and I’m ready to take that risk.”

I can hear him swallow on the other end and when he’s done his words rumble out in his deep, sexy voice. “Rook, I’m not a risk, I’m a sure thing. You’re the only girl I want to build a future with. Ever. You’re the one, Rook. The love that only comes around once in a lifetime and I refuse to settle for anything else.”

He’s perfect. Simply perfect. “I love your love letter, Larue. It made me sigh like a schoolgirl.”

“Well, you
are
a schoolgirl, right? I think I’m gonna have to go looking for a little tartan skirt and some knee socks. Dress you all up in a sexy outfit this weekend.”

“If you do that, I might have to be bad on purpose, Mr. Flynn.”

“Don’t tease, Gidget, or I’ll spank you.”

“You promise that so much and never come through. I hardly get excited about it anymore.”

He guffaws this time and I can practically picture his gorgeous smile lighting up his electric blue eyes. “I can’t fucking wait until Friday.”

I giggle a little as I picture our Friday. “I might just ditch class early, Mr. Flynn.”

“And that will earn you two spankings, Miss Corvus.”

“Promises, promises.”

After Ronin and I hang up I read the text over and over again. A letter. It’s sorta old-fashioned and sweet. I look over at the camera and the idea that started this morning with saying goodbye to my latest journey through life with a wrap-up of Chaput Studios gives me another one. I set up the camera on the small kitchen table, sit down in front of it, and turn it on. I take a deep breath and begin to talk.

“Dear Rook at age fifteen. Your life is not over. Wade Minix was not your one. I wish you’d stop crying and being depressed and just make yourself get over it, because I’m Rook at age twenty and I know better. I know that your one is waiting for you five years in the future and his name is not Wade. I wish I could warn you to stay far, far away from that diner where you meet Jon. I wish I could warn you that moving out to that house with him in the country will be the biggest mistake of your life.”

I take a deep breath and then continue.

“I wish I could tell you what to watch out for, when to say no, when to walk out, and when to never look back. But I can’t. Because you need to do all those things without my help. You need to learn all those lessons. You need to experience all that fear and pain and desperation. You need to see all that stuff. Because at the end of all those bad things, there is a sweet and gentle man named Ronin Flynn.”

The tears start to flow down my face as I allow myself to feel a small fraction of the emotions I’ve bottled up in the name of survival since I left Chicago.

I get up and turn the camera off and take another deep breath.

I’m ready.

I’m ready to accept what happened and let it go. I’m not quite sure how I’m gonna do that and I’m not quite sure what will happen when I confront the past and take a good hard look at all those memories. I just know that I’m tired of pretending that girl is not me. Ronin deserves a girl who is whole. He’s done so much for me that I owe him this. I owe him a whole girl who can accept his protection and love without constantly being afraid she’ll make the same mistake twice.

Chapter Fourteen - RONIN

After Rook and I hang up I lie on the couch and halfheartedly watch
The Last Samurai
as I think about making love to her this morning. She’s definitely getting more adventurous, but I still feel the need to be careful with her.

A knock brings me out of the daydream and I jump up and jog over to the door. It can only be one of three people. Clare, Elise, or Antoine. That’s one thing about living in a secure building. No unexpected visitors.

The door lock clicks as I open it and Clare is smiling at me from the other side of the threshold. “Hey, what’s up, little chick?” She’s wearing some pink shorts and a white tank top, looking totally cute.

“Can I come in?”

I throw the door open wide. “
Mi casa
and all that shit, right?”

She laughs. “Right.” She eyes my outfit now. I’m only wearing a pair of baggy black sweatpants cut off mid-thigh and her gaze lingers on my bare chest a little too long. I clear my throat and wave her over to the couch. She takes a seat in the middle so I plop down next to her and put my arm around her shoulders. “You came to hang out and watch movies? Or you have something on your mind?”

She looks up at me with those blue eyes of hers and I can’t help but smile. “I just needed to say it in person, that’s all. When I’m not high, or crying, or a total mess in all the other ways in which I’m normally a total fucking mess.”

I squeeze her a little. “Say what?”

“Thank you. I really mean it, Ronin. I know you put up with a lot from me last summer. I was a total pain in your ass and I probably made your life more difficult than it needed to be. So I’m sorry for that.”

“Hey,” I say, taking her chin and lifting it up so she has to look at me. “You’re family, right? I love you. You’re part of me now and I’m not gonna let you give up. I never understood what that drug was to people, but I know now. After watching you struggle and go through all that pain, I know. But you’re a fighter, Clare. And I have an idea about what you’re feeling, so just put those doubts out of your head. You’re gonna make it. You’re over the worst and now it’s just maintaining, right?”

She swallows hard and leans back against my chest. I automatically sit back into the couch cushions and pull her in next to me.

“You’re a good guy, Ronin. I totally messed up when I blew it with you back in high school.”

“Yeah, well. Bygones, OK? Don’t dwell on my silly high-school crush. I’m happy with how things shook out. You’ll find the right guy, Clare. You’re fucking beautiful, and smart, and French.”

She laughs and then turns her head up to look at me. “But—maybe, if things don’t work out with you and Rook, you might give me another chance?”

I laugh a little. “Well, I hate to disappoint you because I’m gonna marry Rook. But I promise, if things go bad, I’ll call you first, OK?”

Her fingertip traces along my lower arm and sends a chill through my whole body. “I miss you.”

I push her off and get up because this is not gonna happen. “I’m tired, OK? I gotta get some sleep so Roger and I can get everything ready for the test shoots on Monday. Maybe you can help us choose the girls, eh? You have a good eye for that, right?”

Clare drags herself up from the couch and walks off slowly, not turning back until the front door is open and she’s about to walk through. “Everyone can see she’s a mess, Ronin. She’s not gonna stick around.”

Clare pulls the door closed behind her before I can object so I just stand there, holding my breath as I internalize those words. Ford pretty much said the same thing.
She’s checking out, Ronin
. That’s what he said. And even though Clare knows nothing about Rook, she’s right. Rook
is
a mess. She’s looking pretty good on the outside, but the stuff she’s covering up on the inside is another matter. I grab my phone off the coffee table and press Spencer.

“Yeeeello.”

“Yello? Dude, you sound like a fucking eighty-year-old grandpa.”

“And your point is? Grandpas are cool, everyone loves a grandpa.”

“Pfft, obviously you’ve never been to the Chaput family compound in France.”

“I hear that papi of yours is a real killer.”

“Yeah, like literally. He ran over the baker last month with his fucking bicycle. There were baguettes everywhere, made the guy sprain his ankle. He’s lucky he’s not in jail.”

Spencer laughs. “OK, well, what the fuck do you want? I got nothing to tell you, really, Rook seems fine. We had dinner, she did the dishes because I cooked and you know Ford, he’s not about to lower himself to do domestic work. Then they came out to the shop and filmed me with her new camera, trying to bait me into saying something stupid so they could edit it down and embarrass me. She’s OK.”

I let out a long breath. “I dunno, Ford said—”

“Why the fuck, Ronin—after all these years, after all the bullshit between the two of you—why the hell are you even wasting one fucking second on what that asshole has to say about
your
fucking girlfriend? I mean seriously.”

“Because he’s been noticing some really fucked-up signs, Spencer. Stuff that only he would see, stuff that makes me sick to even think about.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

“Yeah,
oh
. And I have to say, now that he’s put it out there, I can sorta see it too. I think she needs real help, Spence. She pretends like none of those years with Jon Walsh ever happened. Or actually, maybe she’s not pretending. Maybe she’s legitimately blocked it out and she can’t remember? And Ford said she’s gonna leave. He doesn’t think she’ll stick around.”