Katie McGarry - Crash Into You

I tilt her head up, engulfing her line of vision. She’s going to see me and me alone. No cars, no Zach, none of the other assholes trying to win her eye during the night. The sweet scent of jasmine entwining with the salty smell of the beach rushes into my lungs. I lick my lips, wanting to kiss her, but I’m too full of energy to dare let my lips brush hers.

Beneath my fingertips, her pulse beats wildly. “I don’t understand you, Isaiah.”

“Then we have something in common, because I don’t get you at all.” Nor do I understand the edge of anger and confusion beginning to roll in my veins.

Rachel was supposed to be a memory burned into my brain. The girl that I kissed, the girl that left me wanting more. But she’s delved deeper than physical, become embedded, and I don’t know how to dig her out. “I shouldn’t like you.”

She blinks several times as her eyes get glossy, but the tears I expect never come. Instead she jerks her chin and I drop my hand. “I think that’s clear. You kissed me then you never called.”

“If Eric knew I care for you, he’d use that against me.” Tons of people Eric know could be watching us, calling him, telling him that I’m close to the girl he felt betrayed him. It’ll give him an advantage over me. It’ll let him know my weaknesses, but the thought of Rachel accepting a date from another guy overpowers any logical thought.

“That sounds like a convenient excuse.” She wraps her arms around her waist, but she doesn’t push me away. Part of her wants me. A part she doesn’t understand, probably just like the part I can’t control. We’re at a tipping point. Both of us teetering one way or the other. I need the right words.

“I found out that night from a friend that you were in danger. I couldn’t let Eric think I liked you, not when your life was on the line. You were never going to be a fuck and I never called because I couldn’t be the link that led Eric to you.”

She shakes her head as I talk. “You told Eric I meant nothing!”

My voice rises to her level. What doesn’t she understand? “I was protecting you!”

Rachel presses both of her hands against my chest and forces me away. “I gave you my first kiss! I deserved better than to be left hanging. I deserved better than to be treated like I was nothing! Then I deserved better than to have your girlfriend thrown in my face!”

Girlfriend? “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Beth,” she says as a slur.

“Beth is not my girlfriend!” I yell and the sound of any conversation around us ceases. Both of us are breathing hard, as if we’ve run miles. She’s right. She deserved better then and deserves better now. She blinks and I hate that I can’t read her expression.

“What do you want from me?” I demand. I’ve tried to explain. I’ve tried to make nice and it’s not enough. Just like with Beth, nothing I do will be enough.

Rachel turns her head away and stares out into the dark night. No response. No words. Withdrawn into her head.

Fuck this. I’m standing here bleeding, and she doesn’t give a damn. “You can ignore me, Rachel, and you can try to treat me as a friend, but none of that will erase the fact that I think about kissing you every second I’m awake and dream at night of my hands on your body. And it sure as hell won’t erase that I’m terrified by how much I like you.”

I’m trembling, and my instincts scream at me to run. I said too much and feel things that are too dangerous. Her eyes snap to mine, but she says nothing. Does nothing. My heart drops as I realize what a fool I am. I’m just a guy who injured her pride. I mean nothing to her.

It’s too much. All of it.

“Forget about it,” I mutter as I wheel away and avoid eye contact.

I stalk off, unable to look back. Logan’s several spots down, talking to someone, and I point to where I left Rachel. “Make sure she gets in her car and leaves.”

Logan grins because I proved him right. “Sure. Where are you headed?”

“The dragway.” I need speed.

Rachel

WITH A HUFF, I FLIP over in my bed again. It’s Sunday night, I have hours ’til school, and I can’t sleep. This does not bode well for me keeping my routine in the morning. The same thought circles my brain like one of those news tickers at the bottom of a TV screen: Isaiah.

He said he liked me. And the way he said it, the way his body was pressed against mine and how his hands held my body...that’s not the I-like-you-as-a-friend kind of like. It’s possibly the same like I feel for him. The type of like where I go sort of crazy when I don’t see him and then go crazier when I do. The type where he consumes my thoughts and then I can’t sleep.

Like now.

Isaiah said he liked me, and I didn’t say a word back.

The hurt in his eyes; the way his shoulders crumpled as he turned away from me...I am an awful person. I pull the covers over my head. What is wrong with me? A really great, really hot guy tells me that he cares for me, and I freeze. And to make it worse, the courage to contact him completely eludes me.

I now understand why so many deer are hit by cars.

I emerge from the covers and reach for my phone. The screen lights up the moment I swipe at it. One in the morning. Who else in the world would be awake at one in the morning? No one. The rest of the world knows how to sleep. The rest of the world wouldn’t blow the biggest moment of their lives.

I scroll through my contacts until I find Isaiah. Underneath his picture is his name and number. My mouth dries out as I ponder the possibility. I could text him.

Nerves cause my heart to beat faster. What if I text him and he doesn’t text back? But what if I text him and he does text back?

Not allowing time to overanalyze the decision, I quickly type and hit Send.

Isaiah

THE STREETLIGHT SHINES THROUGH THE slats of the blinds, creating a light ladder on the wooden floor. I fell into bed an hour ago, and at one in the morning I still can’t sleep.

Noah’s mattress creaks as he rolls and throws his arms out as if he’s searching for something. More like someone. When he comes up empty, his eyes crack open into slits. Echo’s staying at the dorms tonight, and he’s here because he’s pulling an early shift this morning. Noah messes his hands through his hair then lets out a disgruntled sigh as he resettles.

I swing my legs off the bed and my bare feet hit the cold subfloor. I rub at my bare chest, hoping to wake the rest of me up. My body’s tired, but my mind won’t shut off. I want to chase after the girl, but I don’t know how. Short of going to her house and scaling the walls like a punked-out Romeo, I’ve got no idea how to win Rachel. Besides, that Romeo shit is not my style.

Maybe a drive will clear my head.

“What’s eating you?” Noah asks with his eyes closed.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Except for the fact he said something, Noah appears asleep. He’s been working his ass off between school, studying, seeing his brothers and Echo, then squeezing in as many hours as he can flipping burgers to keep us afloat. The most I see him is when he sleeps at night. The kid is almost a walking corpse.

“You’re worried about the money for rent, aren’t you?” Noah mutters.

Fuck me. I slide both hands over my face then cup my mouth and my nose. On top of owing Eric, I owe Noah money for rent. I can’t believe I forgot. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I don’t want to fail you.”

“You won’t. You aren’t.” My shoulders roll forward like I’ve got a damn aircraft carrier on my back. I’ve thought time and time again about telling Noah the truth, but I haven’t. Only because there never seems to be a good time, but now I can’t tell him. I can’t let him shoulder this burden. Not when he already has too much riding on him. “It’ll work out.”

Noah opens his eyes and examines me. “Yeah, it will, so don’t do anything fucked-up over it.”

Pressure builds in my neck because I already know what he’s referring to. “Like what?”

“Like street racing. Seeing Beth in handcuffs gave me my fill of police stations for a lifetime. I don’t need you to be joining the ranks.”

My phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans on the floor. I close my eyes. It’s gotta be Beth. She’s the only one who’d text this late.

Noah throws his arm back over his face. “Answer her, Isaiah. Beth’s going nuts over your silence.”

“Not interested in making her feel better.”

“Here’s some crazy shit—maybe I’m more interested in you feeling better. If you could find a way to let her go maybe I’d see you happy again. Like you were the night you brought Rachel home.”

Anger twists in my body. Noah’s talking about stuff he should stay away from. “Fuck you.”

Noah raises his hand and flashes me the finger.

I grab my shirt and start to lift off the bed, but when my eyes drift to my jeans my ass hits the mattress again. To hell with this. To hell with her. Beth fell in love with Ryan. For weeks she acted like she couldn’t stand him, but knowing her like I do...like I did...Beth didn’t like people who made her feel.

And damn me to hell, she felt something for him.

Without thinking too much about it, I snatch the phone out of my jeans. If Beth wants to talk, we’ll talk. I’ll tell her everything I think about her and Ryan and her idea that we can be friends.

The phone springs to life and my heart stalls out. It wasn’t Beth.

It’s weird how the anger and tension recedes. What rattles me the most is the flood of anticipation and nerves. Like swaying right on the edge of being high or drunk. The message from Rachel is simple, but the olive branch extended is weighted: Hi