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The Space Beyond (The Space Between Heartbeats #1.5) Page 5
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Page 5
I'm such an idiot.
I can't do this. Dale will just have to get over the whole disappointing his dad thing.
But I don't want him to have to.
My legs are frozen as all these thoughts rush through my brain. Adam hasn't moved, either. I need to look at him, to gauge what he's thinking, but I'm too afraid.
He chuckles.
Excuse me?
I glance up, and he's shaking his head with a grin that's dying. He swallows and mutters, "I wish I had balls like yours."
What did he just say?
Did he just...give me a compliment? A slightly gross one, but still.
Tentatively, I reach out to him and lay my hand on his solid forearm. He flinches a little, but lets me leave it there.
"Adam." My voice is shaking, because his one little sentence has given me hope. "Dale really wants Columbia. I know your dad and your uncle can make that happen for him. Please, help me."
"How?" he croaks.
"Help me convince your dad to change his mind."
Adam's eyes are nearly lifeless. He shakes his head like a robot.
"Please." I hate the whine in my voice. I hate that I'm starting to feel desperate. I don't know where else to go from here.
"If Dad's said no, he's not going to change his mind,” Adam murmurs.
I huff and let go of Adam, crossing my arms to contain my frustration. "Adam, I'm getting Dale into Columbia, and if I have to, I'll go to the mayor."
Adam's skin blanches.
I feel mean and triumphant all at the same time. "I'll tell him what you and your dad did to me. What you guys tried to cover up."
Adam's gone statue-still, his blue eyes becoming even brighter, if that's possible. My gaze is locked on his tragic expression, especially when his eyes gloss with tears.
Pity turns my stomach, but I force myself to think of Dale. Tapping the heel of my shoe on the concrete floor, I fidget with the Granite dog tags.
"I don't want to do it, but...I'm not sure what else to try." I attempt one last appeal. "Dale deserves to go to the college he wants. Don't you think it's stupidly unfair for you to get in, and for him to miss out?"
A tear dribbles out the edge of Adam's left eye, breaking him from his stupor. He brushes it away and sniffs, obviously embarrassed.
"Dale's a good guy," he finally mumbles.
"Yes, he is. And he could have really put you in the shit last year, but he kept his mouth shut. We both did."
"I know." Adam nods. "And I'm grateful."
"How grateful?" I cross my arms and pierce him with a pointed look.
Adam sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. "Nicole, my dad will kill me."
"Your dad's already killing you." I don't know where that came from; it just slipped out. I swallow and gaze at Adam. His white face is now ashen. "I'm sorry. I just mean, he seems to have a real strong hold on you...and I get the impression you don't like it."
"I don't." His face crests with sadness.
I nearly fall over. Did Adam just admit the truth to me?
My hand is back on his arm in an instant, my voice ringing with an elixir of desperation and hope. "Then do something about it."
"What?" He spits out a frustrated sigh. "You know I can't challenge my dad...and I can't go to the mayor, either."
"You're scared of him, aren't you?" I make sure my voice sounds sympathetic rather than accusing.
It doesn't matter. Adam knows I'm talking about his dad and scowls at me like I'm the Wicked Witch from Oz.
"Adam." I squeeze his arm. "Please, help me. Help Dale. Help—" I sigh, unsure whether to say the last part. I let go of his arm and pick at my thumbnail. "Do you remember what I told you last year…when you came to see me at the hospital?"
His hand tightens into a fist. "Nicky." He holds his breath then thumps the workbench lightly. "I can't forget it. I think about it every damn day…because you're right. I don't want to wake up one day and realize I've lived my dad's life…not mine."
He grabs his blond locks and rests his elbows on the bench, looking desperate, unhappy…torn. I almost want to wrap him in a hug. Almost.
"I just…I can't." He shakes his head.
My face bunches with disappointment, but I’m still not ready to give in. "I know facing your dad is like hella scary. Facing the mayor is probably even worse."
"My dad would find out if I spoke to Mayor Stratham."
I press my lips together before forging on. "I know it's easier to stay silent, but please. Please, just think about it? I won't drag you to the mayor. Let's just start with you asking your dad not to be such a jackass. If he doesn't listen to you, then I'll have to come up with a plan B."
"You mean giving me up to a higher authority." His voice is dark, but I don't miss the quiver.
I squeeze his shoulder. "I told you I don't want to do that."
"You should." His bleak look makes me sigh.
"Adam, I have to be honest with you." I bite the edge of my lip. "Your wimpy behavior bugs the shit out of me sometimes and yes, I hate that you haven't owned up for what you did. But behind all the crap…I know you're a really good guy. I won't forget how we used to hang out as kids. You were one of my favorite people back then."
An instant grin spreads across his face. I spot the edge of it from behind his hand. "Do you remember the popcorn fight we had in your living room?"
I burst with laughter. "Oh, my gosh, I'd totally forgotten about that."
"I thought your dad was going to kill us." Adam drops his hands and grins at me.
Giggles ripple through my stomach. "He was so bright red. I was waiting for steam to start coming out of his ears."
"He was cussing up a storm. I'd never heard an adult swear like that before…and then your mom came in."
I bob my head and chuckle. "And threw a handful of popcorn at him."
"And told him to stop swearing at the kids." We say the last five words in unison and laugh together for a moment.
"That was so epic," Adam mumbles, picking up a tiny screwdriver and spinning it between his fingers. "I'll never, ever forget it, because I remember even though your dad looked ready to explode, I didn't feel afraid."
My heart squeezes into a tight knot as I watch Adam transfixed by the small tool. His vision must be blurring, and I know he's thinking about his dad. He's never going to go for this. Sheriff Hutton has a hold on Adam, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I want to tell Adam that I'm going to the mayor this afternoon, but I can't form the words. My pity-meter is on overdrive. I blink at helpless tears and can't think of anything else to say. All I can do is grab my bag and silently leave the room.
Chapter Eight
This is hopeless.
My plan sucks, and I'm not going to be able to give Dale what he so desperately wants. I step out the computer room door and lean against the wall. My fingers are quivering as I pull out my phone and text my boyfriend. I tell him I can't make lunch and will catch him after school. I know he'll be disappointed, but I just can't face him right now. One look at those compassionate eyes and there'll be no stopping the waterworks.
I sniff and inhale slowly, trying to ward off the tears. Why the hell am I doing this anyway? I don't want Dale to move to New York.
But it's what he wants. What he needs.
And I love him.
The words whistle through my head. They're so clear and sure, I can't miss them.
I close my eyes and lightly thump my head against the wall. Bad idea. I rub my temples, willing the familiar headache away. I guess I'm just going to have to see the mayor on my own.
Checking my watch, I try to calculate how much time I have left before the end of lunch. I could try skipping out again, and if I miss sixth period, that's no big deal. I could still make it back in time for Dale to take me to physio. I poke out my tongue, hating the idea of physio. I'm so over it. The only good thing about going four times a week is that Dale now works out beside me, presenting me with
a decent display of eye candy. I'd be all over him at the end of each session if my body wasn't so wasted from forcing my knee back to its former self.
My phone dings and I quickly read Dale's message.
No problem, pretty girl. I’ll just have to give you two kisses when I see you after school. I hope everything’s okay. Let me know if you need a lunchtime study partner — xx
My mushy smile quickly fades as I try to decide how to respond to him. I rub my thumb over the locked screen then slip it into the side pocket of my bag. I’ll reply later when I've thought of something comical to say. Right now, I'm feeling too frustrated.
I pull in a breath and start off down the hallway. If I’m going to get to the mayor's office today, I need to get moving. I start playing with different ways of telling the mayor my story, hating each one. This is going to suck.
"Nicky, wait."
Adam's quiet words scuttle down the hallway after me.
I slowly spin back to face him. His bag is over his shoulder. He's clutching it nervously, tapping his index finger on the shoulder strap.
I don't say anything, just wait for him to catch up with me. It doesn't take long with his big strides. He peers down at me, his forehead scrunched with worry.
"Okay, I'll come."
My mouth drops open. "You'll come? To talk to your dad?"
Adam shakes his head. He almost looks as if he's in physical pain. His eyes are so filled with anguish. "No," he whispers. "I'll come with you to talk to the mayor."
My eyes bulge wide. "Are you…are you sure?"
He swallows and looks away from me, studying some speck on the wall for a second. His finger is still tapping. The rhythm is steady, but not soothing. He looks like a jittery mess.
"Yeah, Nicky. I'm sure."
He sounds anything but. I decide not to let this bother me and turn towards a side door that will lead us to the student parking lot.
“So, how do you want to get to City Hall?” I glance over my shoulder. Adam is reluctantly trailing behind me.
“We can drive,” he murmurs, picking up his pace and brushing past me.
“Do you have a car?”
“Uh…yeah.” Adam gives me a nervous smile. “Mom’s working from home today, and she’s finally letting me drive the Mustang again.”
I jerk to a stop and swallow. He was driving the Mustang the night he hit me. He’s standing there expecting me to get into the car that nearly killed me.
Adam slowly turns, his handsome face twisting into a remorseful frown. Our gazes connect for a brief moment, but we both jump away from eye contact. The chasm between us is huge and filled with so many things that have never been said.
I think back to his apology in the hospital. It seemed heartfelt at the time; I just have to get over myself. Dale needs me to be brave and get my ass into that Mustang.
I raise my chin and step past Adam, my voice quivering as I say, “Well, let’s get going then.”
I’ve never been in the coveted Mustang before. So many girls have tried and failed and here I am, the most reluctant one of them all, sitting in the midnight blue beast. I grip the leather seat while my eyes skitter across the shiny black dashboard. The engine rumbles, a sound I’d usually find appealing. Today, I find it nerve-wracking.
Adam’s long fingers grip the wheel, and I stare at the image of a silver galloping horse on the middle of the steering wheel until its sharp edges become fuzzy.
We don't say anything as we drive away from the school. I don't know if anyone spotted us. I hope they didn't. I can just imagine the crap storm that would result if word spread that Nicole Tepper was seen getting into the Hutton’s Mustang with Adam. Dale would have a conniption if he knew. He's a pretty forgiving guy, but he makes sure to keep me as far from Adam as he can. He still doesn't trust him.
I peek a glance at Adam as he turns onto Big Bear Boulevard and starts heading for City Hall. His knuckles are white, his jaw clenched tight.
"You know, they probably won't let us just waltz into his office," I say quietly.
"I know." Adam's voice is thin.
"Do you think you'll lose your nerve if we have to make an appointment or something?"
"I'm not leaving 'til I tell him." The words only just make it out past his gritted teeth.
I look out the window, slightly bug-eyed. What the hell have I started?
This is good, right? I mean, Adam should have 'fessed up six months ago when this all went down. I'm not being mean by forcing him to do this. I'm not technically forcing him to do it, am I?
Oh, Nicky, shut the hell up! Just think about Dale.
I force images of the world's best human into my brain, playing with a memory from last weekend when we went for a really flat, gentle hike through the forest near the back of my place. He's determined not to let me fear the environment I nearly died in, so he’s been coaxing me to walk amongst the trees. Last weekend was great. My gimpy leg made it further than it ever had without hurting, and during our ‘rest’ break, I was thoroughly rewarded on the picnic blanket Dale had laid out for us. I blush, my skin growing warm as I remember his hands sliding up my jean-clad thigh, his lips warm and intense on my mouth, the weight of his body on mine, making me feel safe and secure...the way he had to suddenly roll away and collect himself before he went too far. I love that I can do that to him. I guess it's kind of mean, but it's good confirmation that he's into me. I try to cling to every one of those moments.
The fact that in a few months’ time they will cease to exist nearly cuts off my air supply. I try to counter the mild panic attack sweeping over me by slowing my breathing and blinking at my rapidly forming tears. Thankfully, Adam doesn't notice. He's too distracted by something in the rearview mirror.
"Aw, shit." He slams the wheel, making me jump.
That's when I hear the siren. Reluctantly, Adam flicks on his indicator, and we pull to the side of the road.
"Is that your dad?" I swivel to look out the back window and wince.
Adam doesn't say anything, just taps his finger on the wheel and looks straight ahead.
A few seconds later, his door is clicked open and Sheriff Hutton is leaning into the car. His stern glare increases tenfold when he sees me in the passenger seat.
"What the hell is she doing in here?"
I totally get why Adam is so scared of his dad. The look on Sheriff Hutton's face screams murder. I can't maintain eye contact.
"Get out of the car. Both of you." We have to obey the steely voice. Much to my disgust, we both jump to do his bidding. I try to counter my direct obedience by slumping against the car and throwing the sheriff a dirty look.
I fold my arms across my chest. Adam stands next to me with slumped shoulders. His hands are buried in his pockets and he can’t stop looking at the ground.
The sheriff crosses his arms and lets out a disappointed sigh. "Where are you two going?"
We keep our lips sealed. I glance at Adam, but he won't look at me.
Sheriff Hutton tuts and shakes his head. "You should be in school."
"It's our lunch break. Seniors are allowed out for lunch." I shrug, my words coming out way too snarky for my own good.
The sheriff approaches me on swift feet. "Last I checked, you're not a senior, Miss Tepper."
I roll my eyes and lean away from him.
"Now, what are you getting my boy into?"
My eyes dart towards the angry face then back to the ground. I'm really trying to pull off nonchalant, but the sheriff is making it damn difficult. My pulse is so fast I think my veins might start break dancing. I rub my elbow, a nervous habit I've picked up since the accident.
He leans in closer. I can smell the black coffee on his breath. "You’re trying to get my boy into trouble." His granite stare is fully nailing into me. I try to twist away, but he moves to invade my space again.
"Get out of my face," I snap and push his shoulder, instantly regretting the move.
He looks incredulous as he steps bac
k and reaches for his cuffs. "You attacking an officer of the law?"
"What?” I throw my arms wide. “No, of course not. You were crowding me.”
Raising his eyebrows, he hits me with another pointed look and gets back in my face. "Tell me where you're going."
I swallow and murmur, "Forget it. It's none of your business."
"My son’s not my business?" The sheriff points at Adam before slamming his hands on the car—either side of my body. "You better not be stirring up trouble. Remember what I told you yesterday."
My gaze turns molten. I can feel it. "And remember what I told you."
A tendon in his neck pings tight. His mouth makes this horrible shape, and his fist rises into the air. This fully freaks me out. I'm about to scream until an iron grip clamps around the sheriff's wrist.
"Dad, stop."
Adam's voice starts out soft, but the sheriff is still straining against his son. His menacing whisper is growing darker by the second. "I'm going to finish you, you little bitch."
"Dad!" Adam yanks his father back, horrified by his behavior. "Stop!"
The sheriff's eyes round with disbelief then flash with sorrow. "Don't let her talk you into doing this. You get back in that car and head back to school."
"No, Dad." Adam's voice is quivering, but he stands tall in spite of this.
Sorrow turns to fear and then quickly becomes anger again. The sheriff’s face bunches in an ugly frown. "Adam, get back in the car!"
Much to my surprise, Adam calmly raises his hands. "I'm not going back to school. I have to do this."
The sheriff's face crumples, his shoulders sagging. "No." His voice softens, replaced with a gentle, persuasive tone. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to throw your life away." He gently grips Adam's shoulder. "I won't let you. You've worked too hard. You're too brilliant."
"Dad." Adam's voice breaks and he looks as though he's about to burst into tears.
"It's okay." The sheriff pulls him into a firm embrace. "I'll write the reference letter, okay? I'll give her what she wants…and then this will all be over. We can move forward."