Page 66 of Tell Me Again
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning Trevor parked the rental car at the curb of a tiny row house in a shabby neighborhood south of downtown. The morning was already warm, but Sam wasn’t sure whether the bead of sweat that snaked between her shoulder blades was from the temperature or her nerves. The morning light did nothing to soften the stark poverty surrounding them on this block.
“It reminds me of Colby,” she said, staring at the run-down buildings with patches of dirt in the front that passed for yards. She could hear the incessant bark of a dog from somewhere nearby. The yard next door to the house Brandon shared with his mother and various siblings was filled with beat-up toys and tricycles. She wondered if the noise of the dog would wake someone’s sleeping children.
“Not enough broken-down trucks up on cinder blocks,” Trevor muttered, glancing through the windshield.
She gave a small laugh because it was true. People in Colby collected rusty metal like a tourist gathered seashells at the beach.
“Are you sure you want to be a part of this?” she asked, glancing at her watch. “I can get a ride with Brandon and his mom and meet you at the church.”
He reached over and wrapped his fingers around the nape of her neck, pulling her closer for a gentle kiss. “I’m here for you, Sam. Easy or difficult, that isn’t going to change.”
Relief sliced through her at his words. She’d felt the need to give him an out but was glad he didn’t take it. She was even more grateful when he took her hand as they walked up the cracked sidewalk to the house.
Brandon opened the door before she could knock. The boy looked younger than his sixteen years in his ill-fitting suit, dark hair slicked over from a severe part. For a moment it was easy to forget about the trouble he’d flirted with before he made the effort to change. Standing in front of her was simply a boy who’d lost the girl he loved.
His eyes tracked to Sam and then back to Trevor. “My mom’s not coming. She worked late and has to go in for another shift. I think she’s afraid of what Whitney’s grandma will say about Whit being with me the night she died.” He stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. “Everyone else is still asleep. It’s better if...” He fidgeted with the collar of his white button-down shirt. “I wasn’t sure you’d really come,” he mumbled.
“Of course I came,” she told him, wanting to reach for him but not sure if he’d let her. “We need to honor Whitney’s memory. This is my friend, Trevor Kincaid. He flew down with me.”
Brandon nodded at Trevor then shoved his hands in his pockets. “I mean going to the funeral with me. I know how you felt about Whitney. Everybody loved her and if it wasn’t for—” His voice broke and he glanced over his shoulder at the house then raised his clenched fists to his head, pressing them hard against his temples.
Her heart ached for how hard he was struggling to contain the guilt and sorrow surrounding him like an invisible force field.
“Oh, honey,” she whispered and wrapped her arms around him. She knew what it was like to lose the person you couldn’t imagine living without, and the pain of being left alone with so much grief. He stood rigid for several seconds before melting against her, sobs making his shoulders quiver.
“I didn’t want her at that party,” he said after a few minutes. He pulled away and wiped his sleeve across his cheeks. “We got in a fight because she wouldn’t let me take her home. I swear I only went to try to pull another friend of mine out of that crowd. It was a bad scene and Whitney and I got separated. By the time I found her again, somebody had given her the drugs. I don’t even think she knew what she was taking. She started getting sick and then she passed out and...” He closed his eyes. “I took her to the hospital, Sam. I ran every red light, all the stop signs. But it didn’t matter how fast I drove. It didn’t matter.”
“You tried to help her,” she told him, hating that any words she spoke would be inadequate to comfort him.
“She died because of me,” he said, his voice rough.
“No, Brandon.” She took his shoulders and turned him so that she could look into his eyes. He’d grown at least an inch since the summer and was almost as tall as her now. A boy in a man’s body, dealing with the kind of loss no one should have to endure. “You are not to blame.”
She would not let this boy sink into the same loneliness and despair she’d felt after losing her sister. “You loved Whitney,” she whispered and he gave a shaky nod. “I don’t know why she took drugs that night, but it wasn’t your fault. You’ve got to stay strong, as difficult as it is. For her.”
“I got nothing without her.” He hitched his head toward the house. “You know I didn’t deserve her. Everyone knew it and now—”
“You did deserve her and you gave her all the love in your heart. I saw that. Everyone saw that.” She hugged him again, hoping she could give him some bit of the comfort she’d craved for so many years. “We’re going to that funeral together and I’ll deal with Whitney’s grandma if it comes to that.”
Brandon’s eyes widened as they started toward the car. “No offense, Sam, but I’d bet on Gran. Have you met her? She’s scary as fu—”
She nudged his shoulder. “Watch your language. I’ve only spoken to her on the phone but I can guarantee she would not approve of your potty mouth.”
Brandon flicked a glance at Trevor and opened the rear door. “You’ve heard Sam, right? She can curse better than most of my brothers.”
“I’ve heard,” Trevor said with a small smile.
“I’m an adult,” she told them both. “It’s different.”
Brandon rolled his eyes and Trevor chuckled as they all climbed into the car. The church was only a few blocks away. Sam peppered Brandon with questions as Trevor drove, hoping to distract both the teen and herself. She hadn’t told anyone in Whitney’s family she was coming to the service with Brandon and could only hope there wouldn’t be a scene.
When they got out of the car, Sam turned and straightened Brandon’s narrow tie. “We’re in this together.”
Trevor came to stand at the boy’s other side. “Don’t worry about Gran, son. Sam has her own brand of scary and you’re one of her kids. I can guarantee she’s not going to let anyone get to you.”
Sam pressed a hand to her chest as they moved toward the church’s vestibule, staring at the sidewalk in front her. Trevor’s faith in her ability to protect Brandon was the nicest compliment anyone had ever given her.
