Page 76 of Honeysuckle
But not today, there was too much going on inside my mind to take notes on how he handled adversity. Today there was only crippling anxiety and incoming heartbreak.
“You look nice,” I said, and he rolled his eyes.
I tossed on a plum sweater that Mom had given me a few Christmases ago that was too tight around my shoulders and a pair of slacks. It was impressive that Josh even thought about dressing up.
Or even offered to come.
Which I had assumed was what he was doing by standing there.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.Please don't back out now.
“Get in the car, Tuck.”
I watched him wander around to his side and climb in, the motion was becoming normal and I liked it. I liked Josh Logan in my Jeep, at my side, in my life.
Shit.
“It’s a Jeep,” I reminded him as he shut the door in my face, but the jab was enough to get my feet moving.
The entire front seat smelled like cinnamon, and it was distracting as I threw my arm over the seats and pulled out of the garage in one quick motion. Josh stayed silent the entire drive to my parents’. They lived on the other side of Harbor, and while it wasn’t a long drive, the silence made it feel like it was.
I pulled up the driveway and swallowed tightly, staring up at the three-story brick townhouse. Unlike most of the guys on the team, I was Harbor born and raised. I had never known anywhere else, these walls had protected me and nurtured me growing up but now they were a cage.
“Youshouldfeel guilty,” Josh said as the sounds of the engine died.
“What?” I turned to look at him, but he was staring up at the house.
“You want to be angry, but…” he paused, body rigid. It made me want to reach out and comfort him but that would only make it worse. “Anger doesn’t get anyone anywhere,” he said.
“You aren’t making sense,” I sighed, I would never understand why none of them couldn’t just tell me straight what they meant. I hated riddles.
“Your guilt, that’ll get something done. You can use it to fix problems, but anger doesn’t solve anything. Guilt can. Even misplaced guilt.”
Josh finally turned in his seat.
“Theymay hate you for this.” He pointed at the house without looking at it. “But there are easily a hundred other kids that need someone like you.”
I stared at him and tried desperately to understand where he was coming from.
“Feel guilty because you grew up with every opportunity to be something and you’re sitting here scared and ready to throw it away because of the opinions of your out of touch parents,” he said and ran a hand through his hair to fix all the little waves that fell out of place.
“I…” I opened my mouth and closed it again.
He was right, this shouldn’t be that hard. I had everything I ever wanted, and if they couldn’t see that, what did it matter?
“They’re family, Josh. They’re my blood. It matters,” I argued half heartedly.
“You have a family, Tuck. It isn't about blood. Whoever is behind that door is an insult to the Brady Bunch,” his voice was tight and quiet. “Even if you all participate in cult activities, at least they have your back.”
I offered him a tiny laugh.
“If you think they’ll pull their punches tonight just because you came with me, they won't,” I warned him. My parents were the kind of rich that didn't believe in consequences for the stuff they said. Josh wouldn’t be able to buffer their conversation, it was going to be rough.
“You saw my Mom’s drug den,” he whispered, and I know there was a joke in there somewhere, but he barely got it out without a snarl. “I think I can handle your nuclear family dinner.”
“Alright,” I said. I wanted to tell him that his mom was sick, she wasn’t in control of herself, but somehow I knew the sentiment was futile. My parents were of sound mind and body, they were just cruel and unwavering in their hatred. I was still worried that he didn’t quite understand, but I tried to get my breathing in control before I nodded, ready to go inside and face the wolves. He waited for my cue and only climbed from the Jeep when I was sure I wanted to go inside.
Looking back at him as his feet connected with the pavement I had a wave of gratitude wash over me. Months ago if someone had asked me about Josh, I’d have a handful of nasty things to say about him. I would have taken pleasure in shredding him apart, piece by piece. But now…
