Page 76 of The Pass
We’ve learned absolutely nothing and there’s no sign of Tanner or his Firebird. I’m going to duct tape a charger into his car so he can never take it out again.
“We can at least ask them if they have any update on the road reopening or cars stranded on the other side.” I glance around the car. Amelia and Corinne don’t look like they love this idea. “You two stay here. Tara and I’ll go.”
Tara’s brow quirks slightly in surprise, but she doesn’t protest. The wind whips around us as we walk in silence along the side of the road.
“Tanner is probably sitting somewhere in a warm restaurant chowing down and watching TV. He’d have a good laugh at the two of us.” I try to lighten the mood.
“Or at the bar.” She snorts and pulls her jacket tighter around her stomach.
“No, not the bar. He doesn’t drink if he knows he has to drive, and he’ll be wanting to get home as soon as he can.”
She regards me seriously and gives me a slight nod. When we get within earshot of the barricade, one of the police officers notices us and walks toward us.
“The road is closed ahead. We’re not letting anyone through—cars or pedestrians.”
“We don’t want to get through. We just want to know how much longer it’ll be?” Tara asks.
“We have someone stuck on the other side who can’t get home,” I add.
He rests his hands on his belt. “It’s going to be a while still. We’ve got a crew cleaning up from the wreck and there’s the tree and the power lines… anyone needing through is going to be waiting a bit, I’m afraid.”
Tara’s lower lip trembles.
It’s the first anyone’s mentioned an accident at the closing.
“Can you tell us who was in the accident or the model of the vehicle?”
“Smaller vehicle, a Fusion, I think. Everyone was stable and alert when the ambulance left for the hospital.”
“Thank you,” I manage for the both of us.
With a nod, he dismisses us, and Tara and I head back.
“Maybe by now he’s realized he’s not getting through any time soon and he’s headed to Jonah’s. I’m sure he’ll call when—”
“This is all your fault.” She stomps her foot and makes fists with her hands at her side. “If you hadn’t left, he wouldn’t have chased after you and he wouldn’t be stranded in the middle of nowhere or on his way to the hospital while I’m stuck with you.”
My mouth falls open. Every time I think she can’t hurt me any worse, she somehow manages. “I left because of you. What is your problem?”
“Girls like you are my problem. I know your type. You hang around the jock houses, you’re friendly with all the guys, and you’re a convenient fuck that screws up their lives and wrecks any real relationships that comes along. You’re beautiful andfun,” she says the word like it’s the worst trait possible. “And no sane girl wants to try to compete with that.”
My face heats, and a chill runs up my spine. I’ve never been so angry in my entire life. “I am not a convenient fuck. Tanner and I were friends, nothing more until this summer. But you’re right,I’vebeen there. Through every relationship, I was there to tell him when he was being an ass. When he needed a shoulder to lean on or someone to talk it out… I. WAS. THERE.” I grind my teeth down on every word. “I’ve been there through it all, not because I was hoping to trick him into sleeping with me but because I care about him. I want him to be happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. So, don’t you dare lump me into some stereotype jersey chaser.”
She starts to cry, which is definitely not the reaction I expected. My anger dissipates into confusion and then guilt for being angry at someone who is clearly having a meltdown. I’m still pissed, for sure, but it’s hard to feel good about kicking someone when they’re down.
I have no idea what to do. How do you comfort someone who hates you? I watch her shoulders shake as silent tears slide down her cheeks. Tentatively, I reach out and touch her arm. “He’s going to be okay, I promise.”
It’s a promise I have no business making, but I know what he means to her. She may hate me, but she loves her brother deeply and she’s scared.
She throws her arms around me and sobs into my shirt. Stunned, I pat her back gingerly and let her squeeze me like a human teddy bear. For several moments, she cries while I hold still letting her use me for whatever consoling she needs. I’m half afraid this is her attempt to strangle me, but her arms stay at my waist.
When her tears slow, she sniffs and says, “I still don’t like you.”
A shocked laugh rips through me before I can stop it. “Yeah, I don’t like you very much either.”
We amble back to the car without saying another word.
“Well?” Corinne asks.
