Mouth to Mouth (Beach Kingdom 1)

He’d lost the girl of his dreams.

No, that wasn’t right. She was the reason he’d started to dream again.

Feeling that familiar constriction in his throat, Rory cleared it hard as he could and snatched up the screwdriver, walking on his knees toward the next defunct table. Before he could begin the exhaustive process of unscrewing the ancient, rusted bolts, the light in the basement came on. He squinted toward the stairs to find Jamie and Andrew at the top, identical expression of what the fuck on their faces. When they’d opened the door, sounds from the bar upstairs came flooding in and Rory realized it must be early evening. Jesus, how long had he been down there?

“Hey, man,” Andrew said, descending the stairs, Jamie behind him. “We’re on the way to mom’s party. Stopped by to pick you up.”

The party was today? Rory swiped the back of his wrist across his forehead, probably leaving a streak of filth behind. Olive was supposed to go with him to see his mother for the first time in years, but there wasn’t a hope in hell of that now. More than anything, he wanted to stay there on the floor, causing himself physical pain to distract from the destruction of his heart. He wouldn’t, though.

Olive had woken something up inside of him. The need to be a better man. Not only for her, but himself. That was why he hadn’t immediately gotten shitfaced when Olive kicked him to the curb. He wouldn’t go back to that. He wouldn’t go back to being unworthy of her. Unworthy of respect. Even if he couldn’t have Olive anymore, he wouldn’t squander the spirit of hope and optimism she’d handed him like a selfless gift. If he squandered what she’d given him, he squandered Olive. And the difference she’d made in him was all he had left of her.

Though it was difficult, Rory braced a hand on the wall and struggled to his feet, his legs half asleep from being in awkward positions on the hard concrete floor. “All right,” he said, sounding like his vocal cords had been severed. “Let’s go.”

Jamie came forward and pried the screwdriver out of his hand, unable to hide his wince at the condition of Rory’s hand. “Let’s swing by the house first and grab you a shower. Maybe a change of clothes.”

“I can’t. I have to just go like this. If I stop to think, I’ll just stop. I’ll just stop.”

After a few seconds of silence, Andrew coughed into his fist. “I think I’ve got some extra shirts down here. They probably say Bud Light on them, but…”

While his older brother rummaged through boxes, Jamie went into the small employee bathroom, emerging with a fist full of wet paper towels. “Don’t move.”

Rory had been caring for himself out of necessity since he could remember. He’d been the last kid to come along, after the bright, shiny idea of a happy family had gone out the window for his parents. After their relationship had gone from occasionally volatile to strictly volatile. So he’d stayed out of the way, got himself ready for school. Fed himself when necessary. But hell if Rory didn’t stand there in the basement of the Castle Gate and let Jamie clean his face and hands while Andrew changed his soiled shirt. He just couldn’t do it himself today. Maybe tomorrow.

On the way out of the bar, Andrew stole an order of French fries from the kitchen and ordered Rory to eat them. He sat in the back of Andrew’s car now—Jamie in the passenger seat—eating what tasted to him like cardboard out the Styrofoam container. The Revivalists drifted through the speakers, but the windows were down and the rush of the wind prevented Rory from making out the words. It was overcast outside, getting ready to rain and he was glad for it. He wouldn’t have been able to stand the sunshine and face his mother, his guilt, all in one day.

Jamie made eye contact with him in the rearview mirror. “You good?”

Rory managed a nod.

“It’s going to be fine. You’ll wonder why you stayed away so long.”

They drove without speaking for a while. “You want to talk about what happened with Olive?”

Jamie sent their older brother a look. “Have I ever complimented your impeccable sense of timing?”

“It’s fine.” Rory set the fries aside and massaged the bridge of his nose. When was the last time he’d slept? Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Olive backing away from him, so he’d flat out stopped trying. “She gave me the smart girl look.”

“What’s that?” Andrew asked.

He let his head fall back against the seat, way too exhausted and empty to have the conversation. “She’s focusing on school. She needs people around her who value the same things. I don’t blame her. I…don’t blame her.” He swallowed the knot in his throat. “She might have let me try to be what she needed, but…I don’t know. I wasn’t worth the risk when I’d already left and hurt her. Don’t blame her, okay? She’s fucking perfect,” he finished under his breath. “Just don’t let me go see her. I told her I’d let her live her life. If I see her, I’ll…”