Back to Me (Book Three ✓)

thirteen

BEAU

Not even the 80's rock blaring through my radio can get my mind quiet today. I drum my fingers rapidly over my steering wheel in time to the harsh chorus, only a few minutes from Em's place now. My stomach clenches tightly - we have her second doctor's appointment this morning and I have no idea how to feel.

All I know is that I'm seeing her and that's enough to send stupid chills up my spine. I roll my eyes at the reaction.

But still, it's not quite enough to take my thoughts away from Zoey and the conversation that's been nagging at me for days. Ever since I met her at the diner.

I twist the volume dial so loud that it almost hurts, trying to blur Zoey's big doe eyes from my memory.

"After my parents sent me away," Her voice rings in my ears, crystal clear as if the conversation just happened moments ago. "I stayed with my aunt for awhile."

"Zoey, I'm not here for games." I snapped at her. "Save the bullshit. What do you mean 'my son?'"

The word stopped me dead in my tracks. My father was determined that no baby of mine would come into this world and make his life harder. He stormed over to Zoey's house the next day, a plan in mind and enough money to convince her parents to follow through with it. Where he got the cash, I never could figure out, but that's besides the point.

He'd told me that they didn't need any convincing. It was horrifying enough that their baby girl could have been corrupted by me. They would take care of it.

Take care of it. My chest got tight, flames burning red hot in my throat.

So they sent Zoey away and I never saw her again. Not until Beck brought her to brunch to meet Emma and me. Bile crept up my throat, almost as bitter as the resentment I have for my big brother.

"I'm getting to it." Zoey said calmly, leveling me with her eyes. "I had an appointment to get an abortion."

I flinched at the word even though I've always known that's why they sent her away. That was the final straw: my behavior spiraled until I was fighting every day, doing anything I could to stop the empty feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.

Soon, I found solace in alcohol and then, my father found me drunk and unconscious in the bathroom. The fight that followed was our worst ever - I, stupid enough to hit him back, barely made it out of the house.

When I did - turning to see Beck watching from his window, hearing Mom crying from inside, Dad fuming in the doorway, forbidding me to come home - I never looked back.

Being homeless in L.A. sucked, but being there with that family was hell.

My eyes found Zoey again when she continued, her words catching my breath in my throat.

"But I never went to the appointment, Beau."

Snapping out of my reverie, I turn into Emma's condo complex. Mechanically, I hop out of my car and follow the path to her front steps. Blinking back the horrible confusion I feel anytime I replay my talk with Zoey, I tap my knuckles to the door, masking my sour mood with what I hope is a neutral expression.

Emma opens it immediately, her skin glowing brightly in the sun, freckles on full display.

God, she looks good.

"Hey, Beau." Her cheeks tint pink as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, uncharacteristically shy.

"Hey, Em." I reach a finger out and barely graze her cheek, appreciating the tiny little dots on her fair skin, even though I know I shouldn't. Despite herself, she exhales softly, closing her eyes as she leans into my touch. Cursing myself, I drop my hand and take a step back. "Ready?"