The Rebound (Girls of Summer Book 2) Page 10

  “It’s none of my business,” Tisha said again softer.

  “It’s not common knowledge.” I dropped my arms and sat on the bench. There was no way I could look her in the eyes, but I’d held this story inside me for years. It felt like it wanted to come out. Like it needed to come out. “In fact, they kept my name out of it since I was underage.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, sitting beside me.

  “I was a freshman. He was the band teacher.” I almost smiled because I had some serious skill with a clarinet and saxophone. Mom put me in lessons as soon as I could talk. I used to love it. I haven’t picked up an instrument since. “It started a few months into the school year. First it was just small touches on my shoulder. A brush of his fingers or his knuckles, almost like it was an accident. Then he offered ‘private lessons’ before school.” I put air quotes around the words. “I loved playing, and Dad had no problem okaying the extra lessons. It was a few weeks more of the same, but his hands lingered longer each time. Just before Christmas break, he kissed me. It was nothing more than peck on the mouth. He apologized and said it would never happen again. But I wanted it to happen.”

  “Oh God,” Tisha said. “You were into him?”

  “It was nice to be wanted, you know? I didn’t really understand what was going on, but I liked having someone like me, someone who wanted to spend time with me.” Tears glistened in my eyes, and I let them fall. “My therapist says it’s normal for a girl who was abandoned by her mother.”

  “What?” Tisha’s hand touched my shoulder. “Your mom?”

  “I don’t want to talk about that.” Ever. I don’t ever want to think about that again. She left me. She made her choice and it wasn’t me.

  “Okay,” Tisha said. She squeezed my shoulder then dropped her hand. I’d wished she hadn’t let go.

  “It’s the past. So is this, but it’s not fair to me if you hear something that didn’t happen.” I swallowed hard and let the rest of the story flow like verbal vomit. “It didn’t stop. I think that was just his way to get me to want him more. We texted over Christmas break. I never sent pictures, thank God, but we got very intimate with one another. When school started back up, he arranged with my father for more private music lessons after school. Called me a savant. I was with him in the mornings and after school, twice a day every day, in the band room.” I snorted at that. “The first week was innocent enough. His touches on my arm were even longer than he should’ve, but he didn’t make any other moves on me. The door to the classroom was open, and we played a complicated Mozart piece. The next week, everything changed. He closed the door for one. Then he would sit behind me and wrap his arms around me to cover my hands with his as I played. He kissed my neck and ears. One day, he locked the door. Instead of me playing, he had recorded me and played that instead. Anyone who walked by the band room heard me performing. But we had moved into his office instead. He kissed me like I was breakable. It was... wrong, but it felt right. I knew we shouldn’t be doing it, but I didn’t want it to stop either. He made me feel loved. Every afternoon, we played, and he recorded it. The next morning, he would ... he touched me everywhere. My therapist calls it ‘grooming’, like he was preparing me for what he really wanted. We were caught the next week.”

  “Jesus,” Tisha said.

  “The principal unlocked the door and walked into his office just before we... you know.” I laughed humorlessly. “It took years of therapy for me to understand how I was the victim and he was the predator. I kept thinking it was my fault. I’d led him on. I’d let him kiss me, after all. I could’ve said no. Dr. Addison showed me that pattern. And it was so clear. He’d made me feel special, wanted, and he gained my trust. Then he took advantage of that.” I shrugged at my own stupidity. “I haven’t really thought about it. After I left school, Dad put me in Xavier. He’d wanted me to go there to begin with, but I wanted to play basketball.”

  The silence stretched out between us until Vina announced her arrival.

  “Alright, girls, sorry I’m late. Had to wait for Mom to get home or the little hellions would be running loose. Let’s get off our asses and make some baskets,” Vina laughed as she dropped her bag. “Damn, that almost rhymed.” She glanced at both of us, concern etching into her features. “What’s going on here? You two good?”

  “Yeah, we’re good,” I said, glancing at Tisha. “We were just talking.”

  “Huh,” Vina said. “Just talking.”

  “Yep.” Tisha jumped to her feet, taking a ball with her. “We were warmed up and waiting on you, V. Let’s play.”

  I stood and stole the ball from Tisha, fake laughing until it became real. We practice plays for half an hour before Darla and her team showed up. I didn’t say anything to Darla about the rumor. It was none of her business. After I told Tisha what had really happened, it didn’t matter anymore. I’d never talked to anyone about what happened except my therapist. And my dad. That was the hardest conversation. The entire thing was in my past. I’d accepted it and moved on. There wasn’t any reason to rehash it all again.

  Therapy was the best thing sometimes.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I finished the grocery list and scheduled a delivery. It wasn’t hard, but it was kind of interesting. Who knew being responsible could be fun? I’d looked up a bunch of Dad’s favorite recipes from the cookbook we’d been building for years. Now I just needed to learn how to cook it. I’d lied to my father, not for the first time and doubtful it was the last, when I said I could handle everything. I totally could, but I needed to learn how to cook something other than the grilled chicken salad I’d made for Adam. Nothing a little experimenting and YouTube couldn’t help with. I wasn’t worried in the least.

  My phone dinged while I was marinating a London broil to grill for dinner.

  Busy today? Adam texted.

  I responded quickly. What do you have in mind?

  Come over. I’ll show you. He added a winky emoji for good measure.

  K. I’ll be over around 2? That gave me an hour to get ready, pick the right outfit to make sure Heather saw me at my best. Adam’s girlfriend had to look good, right?

  Adam sent a thumbs up emoji.

  I smiled too wide and had to slow down. Fake girlfriend, I reminded myself. Didn’t mean I couldn’t look good. Up to this point, I’d toned down my wardrobe but not today. I never wanted Adam to feel like I was flashing the money in front of him. He wasn’t superficial, but I was being judged by his friends. They knew I had cash. It wasn’t an unknown factor. They all knew Vicky, after all. That still didn’t mean I needed to throw it in their face. Plus, Heather’s greed had been what really sank her relationship with Adam. I ran up to my suite and took a quick shower, mentally going through my wardrobe.

  The pale pink halter dress I settled on made my eyes pop and emphasized my toned arms and shoulders. It was also not something anybody could buy. It was by a local designer who was making waves in New York. I’d fallen in love with it immediately and Dad didn’t hesitate to have the designer make one for me. It was an original and fit like a glove. I opted for a simple gold necklace with a small diamond pendant and matching post earrings. It was understated and classy. I slipped my freshly French manicured toes into my latest shoes: Manolo Blahnick’s of course. The open toed mules were made in bright multicolored snakeskin with crisscross straps and a kitten heel. They were perfect in every way.

  My mind drifted to Italy, where the shoes were handcrafted. Did she ever think of me? Did she miss me? I shook that negativity out of my head. I didn’t need it. And if the answer to those questions was yes, she would’ve tried to reach out to me. Nine years and nothing.

  I styled my hair into cascading waves down my back and kept my makeup minimum. The entire look was fresh, elegant, and exactly what I wanted. Whatever Adam had planned, which surely included a trip to wherever Heather was going to be, I looked and felt like my old self. I’d let him get to me way too much. I’d falsified myself into thinking he care
d. Just like every other man in my life. It was all a charade and it was high time I remembered that.

  The drive to Adam’s apartment took longer than anticipated and I arrived at quarter after two. He waited for me on the steps outside the building. I waved as I drove past, looking for a parking spot. It took another block before I could parallel park on the street. Adam surprised me by opening the driver’s door.

  “Hey,” he said as he offered his hand to help me out. “I was getting worried.”

  My heart skipped a beat. Not real. “There was construction.” I shrugged, ignoring his hand, and got out of the car. “What’s the game plan?”

  Adam’s eyebrows wrinkled. “Game plan?”

  “Yeah, where’s Heather today? I’m assuming that’s why I’m here, to make her jealous again.” I closed and locked the car, setting the alarm.

  Adam shook his head and ran his fingers through his short blond hair. “I ... I wanted to take you somewhere. Show you something.”

  “Oh, sure,” I said, slipping the keys into my gold lame clutch. “Let’s go then.”

  “You’ll be okay walking in those shoes?” He pointed at my Manolo’s. “They’re higher than you the ones you usually wear.”

  He noticed my shoes? Again, I shook that from my head. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been wearing heels since I could walk. Besides, these aren’t that high.”

  With another nod, Adam led me to the sidewalk and away from his place. I kept my distance, careful not to brush up against him. His oversized cargo shorts and Chucks where sharp contrast to what I was wearing. He was super casual, and I was not. The light blue polo set off his eyes though. It was hard not to notice how it clung to his athletic form in all the right places.

  We were a block away from my car when I noticed the black backpack slung over his left shoulder. I almost asked, but I kept my mouth shut. This wasn’t a real date. I needed to remind myself again and again today that this wasn’t reality. Golfing with my dad, the intimate dinner, the sweet kisses that had a tad too much passion behind them, it wasn’t real.

  “Are you ...” Adam pursed his lips. “You seem off. Is everything okay?”

  “How do I seem off?” I asked with far too much bite in my voice.

  “I don’t know. Just... not you.” He shrugged and pulled the strap to lift the backpack higher on his side.

  “Because you know me so well,” I said softly.

  “Thought I did,” he responded.

  The silent tension filled our little bubble. I should’ve apologized. Being bitchy wasn’t part of our deal. It wasn’t even necessary with him. I couldn’t bring myself to do it though. We walked several more blocks, and I lost track of where we were. We turned another corner and saw a large brick fence with a gated driveway closer to the other end of the block.

  “What’s this?” I asked, racking my brain for anything in south city that required this kind of security.

  “You’ll see,” he said with a smile.

  I waited for a better explanation, but he didn’t offer even a hint of a clue. We walked to the gate and a guard stepped out. Her eyes trailed down my dress with a cocked eyebrow before she turned her gaze to Adam.

  “Caught you a rich one, boy?” the guard said.

  Adam’s smile widened. “Good to see you too, Missy. This is my friend Rachel.”

  “Friend, huh?” Missy glanced at me again. “I hope this friend treats you better than your last friend. I’d still like to ring that girl’s neck.” Missy shook her head. “Sorry, that’s not very friendly.”

  “I’d like to ring her neck, too,” I said, my frustration clear in my voice. “I’d also like to stop hearing about her, but it doesn’t seem like that will happen any time soon.”

  Adam stepped back from me, the shock evident on his voice. “Rachel—”

  Missy laughed. “Yeah, I bet you do.” She moved away from the gate. “Go on, you two. Get in there.”

  “Thanks, Missy,” Adam said as he walked by her at the gate.

  I followed him and turned once we were inside. “Thanks,” I said to Missy.

  “Don’t hurt that boy. He’s been through enough.”

  “He’s not the one who’ll get hurt,” I said softly.

  Without waiting for a reaction, I turned back toward the direction Adam disappeared. He peered around a corner, waving me on. I shouldn’t have said that to the guard. It was out of my mouth before I even thought about it. Despite everything I knew, and everything I kept telling myself, I wondered if it was already too late for me. That wasn’t a pleasant thought. Distance was what I needed. Time to think, time to put everything in perspective. I strode forward, around the curving wall, and stepped into a garden heaven.

  My pace slowed to a crawl as I took in the plants. It was a vegetable garden. Tomatoes, carrots, celery, broccoli, zucchini, corn, it had so many plants. Where were we?

  “They grow their own veggies for the cafe,” Adam said in front of me. “In the winter, they have everything in a greenhouse. It’s all organic too.”

  “Wow,” I whispered. The sheer size of this garden blew me away. I couldn’t imagine what else we were going to see. The fresh herbs filled the air with an aroma that reminded me of something I couldn’t place. I savored the smell until it hit me, then it was bitter to my nose. Mom, it reminded me of my mother. I choked back the emotional tidal wave surrounding me and followed Adam out of the garden and through another gate.

  We stepped into a park filled with trees and a red stone path. The grass was greener than the club’s golf course. Along the path were plants marked by placards, many of which I had never heard of before. Botany wasn’t my thing. We strolled along the greenery, and I still had no idea where we were.

  “Adam?” I said his name softly as I stared at a rose garden with deep red, yellow, and bright white blooms. The sweet scent smelled like I imagined heaven would. “Are you going to tell me where we are?”

  He stopped and smiled. “I thought you’d have figured it out since your dad donates so much money here.” He waved his hand around the park. “This is the Botanical Gardens of St. Louis.”

  Of course. I felt like an idiot. It had been years since I’d been here. Mom used to bring us to picnic during the summer concerts. She loved this place. Neither Dad nor I had been back since she left. A cold bubble formed in my chest. She left us, and Dad still donated money to her favorite place? Why? It didn’t make sense. Then again, he might not know he was so charitable. He had an accountant who handle all that stuff, and he was always donating.

  “Are you okay?” Adam asked slowly, pulling me from my memories. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  I snorted, very unladylike, but I didn’t really care. Then I changed the subject. “Why does the guard know you?”

  “Missy? She’s cool.” Adam started toward a different path, and I followed behind. “City residents get a discount, but it’s still ten bucks to enter the Gardens. Anyway, Missy caught me trying to sneak in a couple of times. She decided it was easier to help me out than to get me in trouble.”

  He shrugged and turned down another path. I was seriously lost now. This place was huge. We walked in silence, listening to the chirping of unknown birds and smelling different botanical scents. It was beautiful here. I knew why I hadn’t been back in so long, but I almost regretted it. Just because it was tainted with the memory of my mother didn’t mean it wasn’t worthy of my time.

  “Here we are,” Adam said as he strolled to a red bridge over a small canal connecting two ponds.

  There was a distinctive Japanese flavor to this part of the park. The bridge had caps on the post matching pagoda style roofs, and there were two pagoda buildings nearby. Adam stopped in the middle of the bridge and stared into the pond. Several koi lifted their mouths from the water. They were orange, yellow, and white. And huge. I’d never seen any this big before, but I’d never been this close to koi either. Had this been here the entire time?

  Adam put a quarter into a sm
all machine, and fish pellets tumbled into his hand. He handed me half. Together we fed the koi and more arrived.

  “How many are there?” I asked, awed at the way they fought for a single pellet.

  “Don’t know. Hundreds, maybe?” He smiled as he dumped the last of the food into the water. “They’re cool, right?”

  I battled back my smile, but I couldn’t stop it from breaking through. “Very.”

  Adam took his backpack off and leaned it against the post. I tried to peer over his shoulder as he bent over and unzipped it, but he maneuvered to block my view. Giving up, I rested my arms against the railing and stared down at the fish. Most of them stuck their mouths out as if they hadn’t eaten in a year while others kept swimming and slamming into one another. Obviously, they had no concerns about personal space.

  “Here,” Adam said beside me. He held out a large sketch pad.

  I glanced at him before I took it. He was hesitant, almost shy. It was a side of him I’d never seen before. I wasn’t sure what I expected either. Anime? Cartoons? Nudes? I wouldn’t put it past anybody to draw nudes. Inside was a complete surprise. Adam had, I assumed, drawn with colored pencils the plants and flowers with such an exquisite detail they could’ve been photos. Underneath each rendering was a description of the plant, like the kind on the placards around the park. Then he added medicinal uses and home remedies and observations. I turned each page slowly, taking in all this information, but I didn’t know what it meant. Did he want to be an artist? Did he want to be a botanist? Regardless, he wanted me to see this. Heather wasn’t anywhere around. This was an us moment.

  “Did you?” I motioned to the pink rose on the last page. “All of these?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered. “Do you like them?”

  “They’re amazing.” I flipped through each drawing again. “So realistic.”