Part 7 (1/2)
”Calling Connor?” My dad asked, walking out of his room in his running clothes. He should have left Atlanta by 8 a.m.
”Yeah, he didn't answer though.” I dropped my phone on the table and went to the kitchen to find some breakfast.
”He may already be on the road. Probably no signal.”
”Maybe.”
”Your mom ran to the store, I'll be back later,” he said and walked out the door.
Alone in the house, I decided to put on my bathing suit and hit the beach. Connor would be here soon enough. About an hour later, my mother appeared on the walkway and walked down to the sh.o.r.e. She wasn't carrying her beach bag or wearing her swimsuit.
”What's up?” I asked. She had a funny expression on her face. ”Is something wrong?”
She sat down in the sand by my feet. ”I just heard from Connor's mother.”
”Heard what?”
”He's not coming.” She frowned and placed her hand over mine. ”Connor was arrested last night.”
”Arrested? For what?”
”He was caught vandalizing a building downtown.”
”Vandalizing.” It wasn't a question. I knew what she meant.
”Graffiti painting.”
”Downtown?”
”Yeah.” Her hair flew around her head from the breeze. ”He's in pretty big trouble. I think he's still in lock-up.”
My parents were both lawyers before they quit and opened the shop. My mother definitely had on her legal face right now.
”What does that mean? How long will he be there?
”I'm a.s.suming he has to have a hearing in 48 hours. He should be out by tomorrow. I doubt they will hold him longer since his parents will take him home, but this isn't his first offense.” She studied me. ”You don't look terribly surprised by any of this.”
”No, I am,” I lied. ”I think I'm in shock. Not to mention more than a little angry.” My insides churned with conflict. Scared and furious at the same time. He knew better than this, and he risked it right before this trip. Angry tears filled my eyes.
”He'll be okay,” my mom said, mistaking my tears for sadness.
I moved away from her and stood up. ”I'm sure he will. I'm going to take a walk.”
”You want company?”
”No, thanks.”
I left her behind sitting on the hot, white sand. Connor had a lot to explain when I returned home. All this tip-toeing around his problems and issues had to stop. The meds, Charlotte, everything. There was no doubt in my mind that he and I would deal with all of this when we met again.
The first text came on the car ride home. I picked up my phone, knowing exactly who it was before I even looked. I slid the lock and checked the screen. Sure enough, Connor's name popped up, along with his face from his photo I had locked in.
Sorry I tossed the phone on the empty seat. Sorry wasn't enough.
We had only been home for an hour or so when my mom came up to my room. She came in just as I tossed a pile of dirty clothes from my suitcase into the hamper. ”I'll take these to the laundry room in a minute,” I said.
”Connor's downstairs.”
I balled up a s.h.i.+rt and threw it at the basket. The red and green s.h.i.+rt missed and sailed behind my desk chair. ”I don't want to see him.”
”I know you don't,” she said. ”But I think you should.”
I looked at her in surprise. ”You're defending him?”
”No, but I believe in dealing with things head-on.”
I started to laugh and rolled my eyes. ”History has proven you do not believe that.” If there was one thing my mother and her family were good at, it was pus.h.i.+ng things under the rug.
”Just talk. I don't want fighting and crying and avoiding phone calls. Break up with him. Or don't. Make things clear. It's up to you. But avoiding him isn't going to solve anything.”
”Fine,” I said. I picked up my entire suitcase and dumped it all in the laundry basket before following her down the stairs.
”He's on the porch. He didn't want to come inside in case you didn't want to see him.” We stopped in the foyer. I hesitated by the door and she asked, ”Do you want me to go with you?”
”No. I'm okay.”
She gave me a quick hug. ”Growing up stinks.”
I tried to smile, but couldn't and just opened the door. Connor sat on the porch swing, rocking it back and forth with his long legs. He jumped up when he saw me.
”Hey.”
I did not reply.
”I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”
The purple bags under his eyes looked worse than before and his eyes were wide and intense.
”I can't believe you did that.”
”It was stupid. Completely stupid. I don't even know what I was doing.” He was being kind of weird. Hyper.
”Right. Like tagging private property isn't against the law. That carries serious jail time. I can't believe you would risk everything for a rush.”
I sat on the swing hoping he'd join me and calm down a little, but he continued pacing.
”I'm serious, I didn't know what was happening. One minute I'm drawing on my bed, and the next I'm being pushed face first into a brick wall. Ask the cops. I didn't put up any kind of fight.”