All The Ways You Saved Me Page 13

  Ian: I am so, so sorry. I’ve got a stomach virus or food poisoning or the plague. My face hasn’t left the toilet all day. I’m not gonna make it tonight. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.

  In the time I’d gotten to know Ian, I’d discovered that he was many things—moody, confusing, sincere, distant, genuine—but never unreliable. At least not that I’d seen. So while my first instinct was to be suspicious, Ian deserved the benefit of the doubt.

  Over the past month we’d gone to a drive-in movie and fooled around in the backseat of his car, played a spectacularly terrible round of miniature golf, and had a wine and cheese picnic in Central Park. Ian’s lips had become familiar terrain, and slowly but surely I was discovering all the secret spots and little quirks that drove him crazy. Like the fact that he loved it when I ran my fingers through his hair, or that I could get him to sexy moan when I bit his lower lip and sucked it into my mouth.

  Bianca: So sorry to hear that. Can I bring you anything? Soup? Gatorade?

  Ian: Appreciate it, but would feel even worse if I got you sick too. While I’m praying to the porcelain gods over here, how about you remind me what’s next on the list. Let me start planning.

  I actually had to stop and think about. It’s not that I’d stopped thinking about the list, but with every thing I crossed off it, my life seemed to grow. In the beginning, there’d been nothing but silence and emptiness, now there was my job and yoga, Ian and Harper. My days had gotten unexpectedly full when I wasn’t paying attention. Somehow I thought Renée would be pretty pleased about that.

  Bianca: Let’s see, next up we’ve got karaoke and camping.

  Ian: Alright, got it. F04A

  It was sad that an electronic smiley face could make my stomach do backflips.

  “Hello, Bianca? What’s going on? You’ve been quiet for a really long time, and my hand is starting to make my face sweat.”

  I pressed the cell phone back into her hand. “Well, it looks like I’ve got an extra ticket for tonight. Any chance you wanna come watch a game with me?”

  “Are you serious? You better not be joking.” Harper grinned, nearly vibrating with excitement. “Oh man, I need to run home and get a change of clothes and take a shower. I smell like”—she sniffed—“deep-fried dog crap.” Spinning on a heel, Harper hurried forward and walked smack into the edge of the door. “Son of a bitch! Motherfucking whore!” Her hand finally dropped from her eyes and she grabbed her knee, hopping up and down on one foot. Through it all, she kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

  I held on to the edge of the bathroom counter, bending in half in silent laughter. Thank God she couldn’t see me. Clearing my throat, I tried to suppress every ounce of laughter from my voice. “Hey, Harper?”

  “Yes?” she bit out.

  “You wanna just shower here and borrow some clothes?”

  She sighed, finally holding still. “That might be best.”

  Chapter 22: Ian

  7 Years Earlier

  I shifted in my seat, the legs of the metal chair sinking lower into the grass. The sun beat down on me like a laser beam without a cloud in the sky to deflect its wrath. I was baking. By the time we made it through all the speeches, everyone getting their diplomas, and God knew what else, not only would I be burnt to a crisp, but my cap and gown would look like I’d jumped in a pool.

  Rachel was wilting next to me, her makeup practically melting off her face and her hair turning into a limp mess. A bead of sweat careened down the side of my face, slid down my neck, and finally soaked into the collar of my shirt. Another five minutes, and I’d be dehydrated for sure.

  A foot kicked the back leg of my chair, and a second later a chin appeared on my shoulder. “How’s the arm?”

  I shifted it beneath the layers of gown, button-down, T-shirt, and bandage. “It feels like it’s on fire, but I could say the same about the rest of me.”

  “Your mom see it yet?”

  I shook my head, glancing at Maggie out of the corner of my eye. Her hair frizzed like crazy in the heat, like she’d accidentally taken a bath with a blow-dryer for company. “Nope.”

  I wasn’t sure how Mom was going to take the sight of my first tattoo. On one hand, I’d gotten it for my father—his gold pocket watch surrounded by a cluster of red poppies, the time set to the exact minute we lost him and the world became a lesser place. On the other hand, she hated the damn things and I’d kept it a secret from her. So really, it was a toss-up.

  All around me, people started clapping, the sound snapping me out of my thoughts. Rachel stood next to me and kicked me in the ankle on the way past, giving me a dirty look. Hastily, I whipped my hands up and joined in the applause. I couldn’t be prouder of her—graduating at the top of our class and getting into a top-ranked computer science program. Not that I ever doubted her, but I kinda always assumed where I went, she’d go too. Besides, Ben was already at Syracuse, and all three of us applied there as well. So, when Rachel dropped the bombshell that she was going to UC Berkeley, on the other side of the frickin’ country? Yeah, I would have been just as surprised if it started snowing at that very moment.

  Maggie drummed her fingernails against the metal chair. Nail polish clung to a few of them, but mostly they were just stained with charcoal. She lowered her voice to something lower than a whisper. “Have you given any thought to what Ben said?”

  This once, I ignored her, trying to concentrate on Rachel’s speech. She was nervous, I could tell. With the weather, no one would know she was sweating from nervousness and her other tells were so minor, I was sure to everyone else she looked like the perfect picture of cool and collected.

  My chair shook as Maggie kicked it for the second time today. “Don’t think I’m gonna stop asking just because you’re ignoring me.”

  “I’ve thought about it, okay? I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “C’mon.” She drew that one word out like a piece of bubblegum, pulling and pulling until it drooped. “You’ve gotta give him a chance.”

  I tried to tune her out, but she was like an insect buzzing in my ear.

  “I get it, he’s been a complete and total asshole. Flaked on you more times than you can count, and we’re not even going get into how shitty he’s been to Rachel. But he’s so different now. After . . .” Her voice stumbled, my heart right with it. She decided to skip the words entirely. “He’s really pulled it together. He’s been there for your mom, pulled his grades up. He even cut his hair. His lovely, lovely hair.”

  “We have the same hair,” I replied drily.

  She kissed me on the side of the head underneath the elastic edge of my graduation cap. “Oh God, that was so gross.” Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stuck her tongue out at me. “I know I’ve said it before, but I think this is a great opportunity for you. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?”

  My reply got cut off by another smattering of applause. This time, I managed to get my hands up to clap for Rachel right away. Maggie stuck her fingers in her mouth and gave an earsplitting whistle that temporarily deafened me.

  Rachel slipped back into our row, her face glowing and her grin nearly splitting her face in half. The next part of the ceremony went fast, and in no time at all the principal was passing out diplomas as he called out our names. Our row was next, so I stood with the rest of them, fidgeting with the sleeves of my long, blue gown.

  Maggie scrunched up her nose and blew me a kiss. I caught sight of Mom, sitting near the front with Ben at her side. When she saw me, up went the camera and out came the tissues. My eyes strayed to the seat on Mom’s left. A seat that was filled by an elderly Asian woman with streaks of gray running through her jet black hair, and not by my father. My chest tightened, like someone was squeezing it in a vice, and I had to blink really fast to keep myself from crying. Aren’t we done with this crying shit yet?

  Over the past month I’d heard it all—I’m so sorry for your loss, he would’ve been so proud of you, I’m sur
e he’s looking down on you, he’ll always be with you. None if it made me feel any better. None of it changed the fact that he was gone or that I’d been a fucking mess ever since.

  I climbed up the metal steps, made quick work walking across the stage, and shook the principal’s hand. Tucking the empty folio underneath my arm, I hurried back to my seat. Apparently, they don’t actually give out diplomas at graduation ceremonies anymore. Something about past-due library fees.

  One more speech, some music, and our caps were tossed in the air. I hesitated, clutching the cardboard brim of my hat between my fingers. Everything was happening too fast, changing faster than I could get a grip on it. I knew that carelessly throwing my cap into the air would mean another door was closing. Dad was gone, Rachel was leaving, high school was over, Ben had grown up overnight, and Mom . . . God, she tried so hard to put on a brave face, but I could hear her crying at night, her muffled sobs leaking through the thin walls. I saw her puffy eyes in the morning, and the trash was filled with box after box of Kleenexes.

  The world was spinning frantically and I was so dizzy, I couldn’t get my bearings. There was only one thing that held me steady, one constant—Maggie. I glanced over my shoulder at her, and she flashed me a quick smile. Her mom and dad sandwiched her between them, squeezing, and laughing, and grinning.

  I didn’t realize I was standing in a sea of empty folding chairs until Ben popped up at my side. We exchanged a quick hug, a manly pat on the back. I was still trying to get used to his new look, all clean-shaven and short, close-cropped hair. It’s like he aged overnight, the carefree sparkle in his eyes replaced by a seriousness that edged lines around his eyes and mouth.

  “Congrats, man. You, uh, did good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Listen.” He held up his hands, palms out. “No pressure or anything, but I wanted to see if you’d given any thought to my proposition.” He rushed on before I could interrupt him. “I’ve been holding off auditions, and there has been some interest. But I want it to be you, Ian. It should be you.”

  “Yeah, why’s that? Because dad would’ve wanted it that way?” The words were out before I could stop them, soaked in all the anger and frustration I’d been stewing in since he died.

  Ben flinched like I slapped him across the face. “No. No, because I want it to be that way. I get it; I’ve dropped the ball, majorly. But I’m trying to . . . I want to be a better person. Hell, I kicked Craig out of the band because he wouldn’t lay off the drugs.”

  “You mean the same drugs you were doing up until a month ago?”

  “I’m clean and I plan to stay that way. I’m not even touching alcohol. Nothing.”

  I grunted, not sure what else to say. I wanted to believe him; I wanted to trust that he finally got his act together. But it was hard. It was even harder because, with Dad gone, I really, desperately needed Ben in my life. He was my big brother, and I needed him to be that for once in his damn life.

  “Why me? Are you just harassing me because I’m your brother?”

  “Christ, Ian.” Ben laughed, the hard lines on either side of his eyes softening. “Have you ever heard yourself play? Actually listened to the music that comes from your fingers? I’d be a fucking idiot to not want you by my side, brother or no.” He clapped his hands together and pointed his finger at me. “Here it is, my last effort, my speech. You’re a damn good guitarist and we want you. I want you. This could be something really amazing. Life is short, so damn short. You never know what the hell is gonna happen, so you need to grab it by the balls and make it your bitch. Ya know?”

  I did know. With his words, it was like something finally clicked into place. Like in the third grade when I finally figured out the reason I was failing was because I couldn’t see. The moment I put on that pair of glasses, everything snapped into focus and everything was sharp, and crisp, and real.

  That was another one of those moments for me.

  “—I think you’d—”

  I cut him off and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m in.”

  “You’re in?”

  “Yeah.” I smiled at him, and my face felt like it was going to crack. It might’ve been the first time I’d smiled since the day we put Dad in the ground. “We’ll work out the details later. I gotta go.”

  His eyebrows scrunched together. “Go?”

  I left without giving him an answer. I sped by Mom, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her as I kissed her, told her I loved her, and kept right on walking. She blushed prettily and laid a hand over her cheek, waving a hand at me.

  Stepping right into the middle of Maggie’s circle of family, I walked right though them until I stood right in front of her. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  She tilted her head to the side, giving me a look very similar to Ben’s. “Yeah, sure.”

  Lacing her fingers through mine, I tugged her behind me, away from her family, away from the crowd of people. She stumbled along, her heels sticking in the soft ground. I stopped when we reached this big, old tree, its wide branches spreading over us like green-colored fans and the gnarled roots twisting out of the ground.

  Her teeth sunk into her lower lip, biting back a laugh. “What’s up, Ian?”

  I just stared at her, my brain working furiously to string a sentence together, to put my thoughts in order.

  “Ian?” She clasped my cheeks between her hands, directing my face toward her. Her eyes searched over me like she was suddenly afraid that I finally cracked, which was the exact opposite of what was happening right then. “Are you alright?”

  I rested my hands over hers, drawing them down to my mouth so that I could kiss her knuckles. “Yeah, I’m alright.” It might be the first time I’d actually meant it recently. “I . . .”

  “You, what? What is it?” When I didn’t immediately fill the silence with an explanation, she went on, “Seriously. Whatever it is just say it. You’re starting to freak me out. Are you . . . you’re not trying to break up with me, are you? Because—”

  “Marry me,” I blurted.

  Her mouth dropped open in a neat little oval. “I . . . umm . . . I just—”

  “No, wait. I have . . . words.”

  She pinched her lips together, but a small snort escaped her.

  I squeezed her hands in mine. “I love you, Maggie. God, do I love you. And I know we’re young and we’re just going to college and we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, but . . . but maybe we don’t. Life is a frickin’ crapshoot. We could both live till we’re ninety-nine and mixing up our dentures, or I could die tomorrow way before I’m ready. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I can’t predict the future. Nothing is certain, everything is unpredictable. But this? What I feel for you? I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life. I want to spend the rest of my life, no matter how long that may be, with you, by my side, as my wife. The world needs to know that in this life full of indefinites, I am positively, totally, irrevocably in love with you.”

  “You use a word like ‘irrevocably’ and I’m supposed to believe that you didn’t have this whole thing planned?” Her lips were smiling, but her eyes weren’t quite willing to commit.

  “Is that a no, then?” I searched her face, looking for a hint of her answer.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Is this because of your dad?”

  “Yes,” I responded instantly. “And no.” One corner of my mouth tipped up in a half smile.

  “Alright Mr. Vague, you’re gonna have to give me a little bit more than that.”

  “Yes, if my dad hadn’t died, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. But it wouldn’t be because I wouldn’t want to marry you, it’d be because according to everyone else, right now isn’t the time for this. We should go to college, and save up money, and get great jobs, and then once our lives are perfectly in place, then we should get married. I’m sick of playing by everyone else’s rules. Life doesn’t play by the rules.”

 
She sniffed, ducking her head to her arm so she could wipe a stray tear, since our hands were still wrapped up together.

  “I told Ben I’d join the band.”

  “Seriously? What the hell happened in the past fifteen minutes?”

  “I had an epiphany.”

  “And what did you . . . epiphanize?”

  I laughed, and it came out all cracked and raw, like when you start your car on a bitterly cold morning and it wheezes before it finally revs to life. “How you managed to get into college with a vocabulary like that, I will never know.”

  “Hey!” She kicked me in the calf.

  “It’s exactly what I’ve been telling you, Maggie. I’m not going to let life just happen to me anymore. I’m seizing.”

  Her eyes twinkled as she looked up at me. “Is that in a figurative or a literal sense?”

  I gave her hands a quick pull, slipping my hands down to her ass to give it a squeeze. Her hands splayed across my chest as she stumbled into it. “You still haven’t answered me.”

  “What was the question again?” She was wearing her mischievous smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

  I dipped my head lower so that I could whisper the words right next to her ear. “Will you marry me, Maggie?”

  Rising up on her tiptoes, her lips brushed across my earlobe. “Yes.”

  Chapter 23: Bianca

  I always get distracted when I’m walking alone, with one thing or another. That particular Thursday, on the way to another one of our dates, my eyes were on the ground as my feet swooped over cracks and sidestepped leaves. The sidewalks were on the less crowded side at the moment, and no one seemed to pay me any mind. I clutched my cell phone between my fingers, giving it a glance every now and then to make sure I was still headed in the right direction.

  I stumbled to a halt when my phone gave a little chirp.