True (Page 62)

True (True Believers #1)(62)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“I’m sure. If I can help, just me know.”

“Thanks.” Riley patted my shoulder, then walked back.

I could hear Tyler and his aunt arguing. “Just let it go, Jackie. I swear to God, don’t do this right now or I will lose it.”

“I’m just saying, we should be able to press charges. Dealers shouldn’t be able to sell you bad shit.” Jackie was smoking a cigarette, wearing jeans and a nylon jacket, her hair up in a ponytail. She pointed at Tyler, her voice raising. “You know your mom could handle her shit, so for her to OD, it had to be bad stuff. Someone should pay for this.”

“Someone did pay for this. Jayden and Easton paid for this. They paid for every day of her addiction, and I don’t want to hear it. There is no one to blame here but her and her love of the little white pills.”

“Don’t talk bad about your mom when she’s barely cold.”

But Tyler just shook his head. “Jackie, I’m not doing this. I love you, but I’m not doing this.”

I felt like I was hearing something private I shouldn’t be hearing, so I went over to Jayden and gave him a hug. He had stopped crying, but his eyes were red and he was wiping his nose with the sleeve of his coat. I dug a tissue out of my purse and handed it to him.

“I miss you,” he told me, sounding every kind of miserable you could be.

“I miss you, too.” I did. He was a lesson in being grateful. He was funny and clever and one of the most genuine people I’d ever met. “If it’s okay with Tyler, you and I can hang out sometime. Just because Tyler and I aren’t together, doesn’t mean you and I can’t be friends.”

“Really?”

“Really. As long as it’s okay with Tyler.” I didn’t want him to think I was trying to infiltrate his family or win him back by using his brothers. I would die if he thought that.

Of course, I should have realized Jayden would ask Tyler immediately. “Tyler, is it okay?”

“Is what okay?” Tyler came over to us, giving me a brief smile, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“Can I hang out with Rory sometime? She said we’re still friends even if you and her aren’t.”

“Of course you can.” Tyler looked at me, his eyes searching, earnest. “I would like to still be friends with Rory, too.”

Only if I had a heart of steel, which I didn’t. Maybe in six months or a year, but right now, I knew I wasn’t capable of just being his friend and not wishing every second that I was something more to him.

“We can be the kind of friends who care about each other, but never see each other or talk,” I told him, trying to be honest. Of course, that sounded much ruder than I intended.

But the corner of Tyler’s mouth turned up. “Only you, Rory.”

Only me.

“U, can you and Easton go wait in the car with Riley? I want to talk to Rory for a second.”

“Don’t be mean to her,” Jayden said, clearly figuring that must be the reason we were no longer together.

“I won’t,” Tyler said, annoyed. “Now go.”

“Well, I’m relieved you’re not going to be mean to me,” I said, fighting the urge to smile. It was good to see him, even under the awful circumstances. Even with the rain dampening my hair and seeping into my shirt from the gap of my coat collar. Even with him looking so solemn and damaged, the dark circles under his eyes prominent, angry slashes of bruised purple skin.

“I think I’ve been mean enough to you already. But I want to thank you for coming. That was really sweet of you.”

“I’m just sorry about your mom. I really am.” I hoped my voice conveyed my sincerity, that he could hear that I still cared about him. “What are you guys going to do?” I meant about the house, the future.

But he just shrugged. “We’ll manage. We’ll be fine.”

“If there’s anything I can do . . .” I started to say, but I trailed off. It sounded trite saying that to Tyler.

After a moment of silence, he spoke. “You look good,” he said, and his voice cracked. He cleared his throat, glancing over to the left, to the open grave. “Just as beautiful as I remember. I thought, you know, that maybe I had exaggerated in my mind what you looked like, but I didn’t. You’re beautiful, and I was a complete dick to break up with you on Christmas.” He swung back to stare intently at me. “I hope someday you can forgive me. It wasn’t that I didn’t love you. I did. I do. I love you. But . . .”

“I know.” I stopped him. I didn’t need to hear all this again. “I do forgive you. It doesn’t mean I don’t wish it was different though, because I do.”

“Are you . . . dating anyone or anything?”

Was he stupid? I made a face. “No. And I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re not you.” Idiot. “What about you? Seeing anyone?” I jammed my hands into my coat pockets, immediately sorry I had asked that. Why did I need to torture myself?

But he shook his head. “No.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin and I waited, recognizing the sign that he was trying to force words out. “Rory?”

“Yes?” Whatever he was going to say, it didn’t matter, because I already felt a hundred pounds lighter. Just seeing his face, reading in his eyes that he loved me, hearing him say it, was enough to fill that last hole in my heart with spackle. It was patched up, not perfect, but intact.

But then I saw what was dangling from his neck. It was the necklace I had given him for Christmas. I recognized the black rope chain and the dented metal with the typography letters stamped on to it. Except it didn’t read TRUE like it had when I’d placed it in that gift bag, wrapped in tissue paper. It read TRUER.

“What is that?” I asked, voice trembling, afraid I might suddenly cry. “Why is there an R on your necklace?”

“What?” Then he glanced down to where I was pointing, and he smiled softly. “Oh. R is for Rory.”

Oh, God.

“Jayden pointed out to me that your name starts with an R, and I realized that you belong on this necklace, right here, in this gift that you gave me. The best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He ran his callused thumb over the metal. “Next to my heart, where you belong.”

I did start crying. I couldn’t stop myself. I pulled my coat sleeve up with trembling fingers and turned my arm so he could see the tattoo on the back of my wrist. “So you’re always with me.”