And then I leave with Camden. My brothers and me, we live on a fifteen-acre piece of land in the hills of Pasadena, and on it, a motocross track with soaring death-defying jumps where we perfect our skills.
Technically, I shouldn’t be out here. Especially with Camden. Because of the noise, or his annoyance with his kid befriending lunatics, Camden’s dad filed a lawsuit to shut down our track, stating it was a hazard. We’ve been riding on it for the last ten years and it’s not a commercial venue nor do we charge anyone to ride here. Besides, Camden enjoys it. I’ve never seen that kid smile like he does when he’s on a dirt bike, and I think, in a way, I need that.
Look at him when he lands a jump. Do you see that smile, the satisfaction that he was able to commit to something, push past the fear and land it? That’s exactly how greatness is created, and seeing younger kids put in the time reminds me how easily all the other shit in life can be pushed aside and you can see life for what it is.
I’m not entirely sure I know what that is anymore though. Somewhere along the blurred lines of reality, I’ve lost it.
I’ve lost her.
Disgusting. Pitiful. Disgraceful. Unforgiveable.
Those are the words I focus on because, despite his lack of words, I know that’s how he thinks of me now. His cold eyes told me so.
I can’t even begin to tell you how badly I feel about myself. And I know, you’re probably not thinking too highly of me either, huh?
Be honest. I bet it’s no worse than I’ve already convinced myself of.
“Is Roan back in town?” Devyn asks when I turn onto the road leading up to their house.
“Yeah, he’s been back for three weeks.”
“Well, this should be interesting.” Devyn looks over at me, popping her lips as she applies another coat of red lipstick. “You told him about Tiller, didn’t you?”
There it is. Like the snap of a rubber band against your skin. The defeated agony returns. You know that feeling when you make a mistake and any reminder about it leaves you in a confused state thinking to yourself, how’d I get here? How’d I make such a dumb move? That’s what happens to me any time Tiller’s name is mentioned.
And to be honest, the sex wasn’t even that great. I also had nothing to base it on though. Sure, Roan and I had done everything but sex, and then when it finally happened, with the wrong man, it wasn’t anything like I thought it would be. It was also in a hallway, and we were both drunk.
“What did he say?”
I stare at the whites of my knuckles holding onto the steering wheel, the butterflies in my stomach swirling. “Um, well, what do you think?” I tell Devyn everything, but I also haven’t seen her in three weeks.
Her eyes narrow, glinting with amusement. “If I know Roan at all, he treated you like shit.”
I snort. “Pretty much. He called me a vindictive bitch.”
“Shut up. He didn’t.”
A rush of embarrassment floods through me at the memory. “He did.”
“And what did you say?”
“I left. Wasn’t much else I could do. He clearly didn’t care what I had to say.”
“Oh my God, what a tool. I really don’t get it. He can fuck around all the time, right in front of your face at times, but yet the one time you have fun, he gets pissed.”
She’s absolutely right. He slept with another girl after telling me he loved me and wanted more. And if it hadn’t been for Tiller, Roan had no intention of telling me. So am I really in the wrong here? It’s certainly not all on me, is it?
I learned early on that two wrongs don’t make a right, but seeing that look of jealousy on his face when I whispered, “Tiller.” For a brief moment, it felt good to finally be the one holding the cards in this fucked-up game we’ve been playing.
Yet here I am, going back for more. I know what you’re thinking. I lied. Again. I said I’d never return to the Sawyer mansion, yet here I am, three weeks after that incident where he tried to kill Tiller, pulling through the gates that read “Fuck Off, Motherfucka” underneath the large S.
You’re probably wondering why. Why put yourself through that again? The only explanation I have is that when you’re so completely drawn to someone, you don’t focus on the outcome or the consequences. You simply do what’s right at the time. Or in my case, what you think is right. And that for me, meant seeing him again.
Even when I said I wouldn’t.
Even when I know I shouldn’t.
When you’re looking to party in Pasadena, it’s well known the best ones happen at the Sawyer mansion. It’s where I’ve spent most of my childhood, long before I knew what went on at these parties. And when I became old enough to understand what was really going on behind the closed doors, and sometimes out in the open, I became obsessed with being part of it and eventually found myself behind those same closed doors with the oldest Sawyer brother. I loved how alive just the environment made me feel. The music, the people, the craziness, I wanted it all.