Home > Pull (Seaside #2)(6)

Pull (Seaside #2)(6)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

Deep-rooted pain.

I knew that look.

It was the same look I saw in the mirror every single day.

And I knew because of that look, now I felt bad that I promised him, because in that moment I did pity him. I pitied anyone who had that look in their eyes, because I knew what it meant. I knew what it held. I knew what its future was, and it was a very, very lonely future.

“Honestly?” I pulled back my hand. “I used to know what it was like. It was nice. But I don’t really have friends anymore.”

“Why?” His eyebrows drew together in confusion.

I wanted to tell him everything, tell him how they’d abandoned me after the accident. That I was considered broken, and after a while my friends couldn’t handle being around me. It was too hard for them, too hard for me, and eventually too hard for everyone in this sleepy town.

“They moved away,” I lied and gave him a weak smile.

“Besides, I have a career.” I nodded to all the taffy and offered him another smile.

He smiled with me. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Good.” I nudged him. “Anyway, thanks for helping me.”

“Well, it was my fault to begin with, but you’re welcome…”

I knew he was searching for my name.

I bit my lip and sighed. “Alyssa, my name is Alyssa.”

Did he just blush? Demetri looked down at the floor then bit his lip. I wondered if he had the same nervous habit. “I like it.”

“Me too.”

“Don’t you want to know my name?” he teased.

“I know your name.”

His face turned serious. “Can I tell you anyway?”

“Sure.”

“Demetri.” He held out his hand. I took it. His hand engulfed mine. It was like shaking hands with a giant. A very hot giant.

“Nice to meet you, Demetri.” His name felt good on my lips.

I wasn’t sure if I should kick him for it or just pretend like I didn’t care that he had such a crazy effect on me.

He released my hand and pushed the door open, then turned around. “So I’ll see you around then?”

“I’ll be here.”

“And I’ll be over there.” He nodded toward the corner.

“Singing.”

“Don’t forget your bucket,” I teased.

He roared with laughter. “Goodnight, Alyssa.”

“Goodnight.”

Holy crap. I was in some deep, deep trouble.

Chapter Six

Demetri

I smiled like an idiot the rest of the way home. I couldn’t help it. Alyssa. Laughing, I walked into the house and went to the fridge for another soda. I’d usually have a beer about now, and I was excited about actually talking to someone my age who wasn’t my brother, my brother’s girlfriend, or a crazy fan. In fact, she didn’t even stutter when I talked to her.

I wasn’t sure if I should be concerned or excited.

The TV was on in the background. I flipped open the can of soda and downed half of it before jumping onto the couch.

Bob was sitting there, his eyes trained on the TV like a man starved. Poor guy, because of his job he hardly got any TV time in, and I know he was just as bored as I was, considering he had to basically wait around while I worked at the taffy store.

“Tried blueberry pancakes yet?” I took another sip of soda.

“Yup.”

“Cherry Cola?”

“Yup.”

Damn. “Salted caramel corn?”

Bob fell silent then looked at me. “Nope.”

We played this every night. He was so far ahead in the taffy tasting that it was pathetic. It was my one goal to beat him and eat a piece of taffy he hadn’t yet eaten.

His eyes narrowed. “Seaside Taffy doesn’t have that flavor.”

“I know.” I smiled triumphantly. “I was flirting with the competition.”

“Whoring yourself out again?”

“Very funny, Bob.”

He shrugged. “I thought so.”

“Admit it, you want to try some now.”

“Maybe.” He rose from his seat and gave me the remote.

I shook my head. “It’s all yours tonight, man. I’m going to go write.”

“School’s out?” He leaned in as if to see if I was high.

I slapped his hand away. “I’m not high, I’m not drunk, and I know school’s out. Songs. I’m going to go write some songs.”

“You haven’t written since you and Nat…”

“Thank you for being so perceptive.” I slapped him on the back. “I’ll be upstairs writing and pouring out my feelings. Have fun watching the game.”

He nodded and sat back down.

**** My guitar was gathering dust in the corner. I hadn’t picked it up since that day last fall when I crashed Nat’s homecoming and played the song I wrote for her. I didn’t know it at the time, but she and my brother were already in love. Later that night, I tried to get her out of her clothes and into my bed before my brother beat me to it.

I hit a wall.

It was like, I couldn’t write anymore.

It was also part of the reason I didn’t feel bad that Alec was doing all our promo. We were supposed to go back on tour after my rehab stint this summer, and somehow we had to record our album in the next four months to do some tours in the fall.

It was the beginning of June, and I was still twiddling my thumbs about writing some stuff.

Before, all my songs had been about getting wasted and partying at the clubs. Then I wrote a song for Nat. It was my favorite song I’d ever written. It was a different sound than before and was going on our next album.

I wanted more songs like it, more songs that talked about important stuff, not just going to parties and living it up.

I strummed a few chords and sighed.

The view from my room was legit. I put the guitar down and pushed open the window. The sea breeze floated into the room.

Sitting back down, I grabbed my pencil and paper and strummed a few chords again.

“Good Taffy, strong taffy,” I sang, then laughed. Wow, the fans would love that one.

“Salted caramel corn makes me want to kiss her…” I crooned and snorted with disgust.

“Alyssa,” I said her name softly and then a little louder.

Something was up with that chick. Why wouldn’t she have friends? I didn’t for one second buy that crap about them all moving away. Besides, she was gorgeous. I mean, she didn’t dress the best, but still, those eyes, those lips? That face. I knew a hot girl when I saw one. At least the girl should have a boyfriend.

“Pretty girl.” I sighed, and then like it had happened thousands of times before, my fingers glided across the guitar, and I began to sing.

“You’re bad. Bad for me, bad to me, bad with me. I know it when I see your face, the way your smile tilts that way. But I can’t, can’t stop myself from staring, can’t stop myself from swearing. I’ll never be that way, with you.

Slowly, I catch myself from falling, faster. I want to be with you now, not after, after you heal from that pain. I’ll never be the same.

Trust. The word falls easy from my lips. Trust me, need me, use me. You call to me. Your eyes hide secrets I want to know. Yet I keep myself from asking, afraid that the answers are too close to home.

Slowly, I catch myself from falling, faster. I want to be with you now, not after, after you heal from that pain. I’ll never be the same.”

I played it in a minor key, giving it a folksy feel. I figured if I added some electronic sound effects, it would be amazing.

I looked over the words and cringed. I’d forgotten how emotional writing was, how it seemed to reflect exactly what was on my mind and damn the consequences. The words taunted me as I put the paper down and finished the song.

I set up GarageBand and recorded it, then attached it to an email for Alec.

My phone rang five minutes later.

“Dude,” Alec said on the other end. “What was that?”

“A song?” I swallowed. Crap, I thought he would like it.

“You made Nat cry.”

“It wasn’t about her!” I argued. “I just wrote it and —”

“Chill.” Alec laughed. “She cried because it was so beautiful, and because she gets emotional when she’s proud. Right, babe?”

I heard Nat say a dirty word and laughed.

“She’s mad at me for telling you.” Alec chuckled into the phone. “Can we record that for the album?”

I thought about it for a minute. It was kind of personal, and it wasn’t even about me, but about her. But it wasn’t as if she listened to us anyway. “Sure. Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Cool, now write twenty more.”

“While you do what?”

Alec laughed into the receiver and spoke in a low voice. “I think I’ll have Nat keep me occupied.”

“And this conversation is over.” I rolled my eyes. “Later, brother.”

“Bye.”

It was three in the morning before I found my bed, and also the first time in the last year that I didn’t crave something to numb my feelings.

I felt raw. Exposed. I’d forgotten how much I liked it. Liked to actually feel, as bad as it hurt. It was real, it was life. And I was finally living.

Chapter Seven

Alyssa

I ran the dishrag over the counter for the hundredth time, while trying not to look out the window at Demetri.

“I think it’s clean,” came a voice from behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin. With a slight sigh, I jerked away from the counter and stared at my dad. His expression was a cross between worry and amusement. At least he didn’t look freaked that I was going to off myself in the middle of the night. Was that progress?

“What are you doing here?” I asked a little too breathlessly.

Dad’s face broke out into a smile. “I own the place, and I had it on good authority — your mother’s — that you looked exhausted, so I was going to give you a few hours to yourself.”

I hated hours to myself. I hated any time to myself, because that meant my focus was on me, and when my focus was on me, it was on Brady. And when my focus was on Brady… I just wanted to cry.

“Um…” My eyes traveled to the window that looked out at Main Street and Seaside Taffy, our competitors. A few people were gathering around the corner, and I knew Demetri had probably just gotten in to work.

“You okay?” Dad asked, though his voice sounded far away.

I kept my eyes focused on Demetri as he took a bow to the gathering crowd and began tossing taffy out. Idiot. Our business wasn’t doing horrible, but it’s not like he was helping our sales any.

If people had the choice between Demetri Daniels or a depressed girl with a permanent scowl, they’d choose Demetri every single time.

As if he could hear my every thought, Demetri’s head turned and our eyes locked. At least that’s what it felt like. His stare was so pensive, my palms began to sweat. Slowly, I sank behind the counter until it was just my eyes peeking over the edge.

My dad chuckled. “What are we doing?” He joined me by the counter and seemed to be more curious than alarmed. Great.

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