He let out a hard laugh. “You really are a perfect little preacher’s daughter, aren’t you, Ash? Once upon a time you were a helluva lot more fun. Before you started sucking face with Sawyer, we used to have some good times together.”
He was watching me for a reaction. Knowing his eyes were directed at me made it hard to focus on driving.
“You were my partner in crime, Ash. Sawyer was the good guy. But the two of us, we were the trouble makers. What happened?”
How did I respond to that? No one knew the girl who used to steal bubble gum from the Quick Stop or abduct the paper boy to tie him up so we could take all his papers and dip them in blue paint before leaving them on the front door steps of houses. No one knew the girl who snuck out of her house at two in the morning to go toilet paper yards and throw water balloons at cars from behind the bushes. No one would even believe I’d done all those things if I told them . . . no one but Beau.
“I grew up,” I finally replied.
“You completely changed, Ash.”
“We were kids, Beau. Yes, you and I got into trouble and Sawyer got us out of trouble but we were just kids. I’m different now.”
For a moment he didn’t respond. He shifted in his seat and I knew his gaze was no longer focused on me. We’d never had this conversation before. Even if it was uncomfortable, I knew it was way overdue. Sawyer always stood in the way of Beau and me mending our fences. Fences that crumbled and I never knew why. One day he was Beau, my best friend. The next day he was just my boyfriend’s cousin.
“I miss that girl, you know. She was exciting. She knew how to have fun. This perfect little preacher’s daughter who took her place sucks.”
His words hurt. Maybe because they were coming from him or maybe because I understood what he was saying. It wasn’t as if I never thought about that girl. I hated him for making me miss her too. I worked really hard at keeping her locked away. Having someone actually want her to be set loose made it so much harder to keep her under control.
“I’d rather be a preacher’s daughter than a drunk whore who vomits all over herself,” I snapped before I could stop myself. A low chuckle startled me and I glanced over as Beau sunk down low enough in his seat so his head rested on the worn leather instead of the hard window behind him.
“I guess you’re not completely perfect. Sawyer’d never call someone a name. Does he know you use the word whore?”
This time I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. He was trying to make me mad and he was doing a fabulous job. I had no response to his question. The truth was, Sawyer would be shocked I’d called someone a whore. Especially his cousin’s girlfriend.
“Loosen up, Ash, it’s not like I’m going to tell on you. I’ve been keeping your secrets for years. I like knowing my Ash is still there somewhere underneath that perfect facade.”
I refused to look at him. This conversation was going somewhere I didn’t want it to go.
“No one is perfect. I don’t pretend to be.” It was a lie and we both knew it. Sawyer was perfect and I worked hard to be worthy. The whole town knew I fell short of Sawyer’s glowing reputation.
Beau let out a short hard laugh. “Yes, Ash, you do pretend to be.”
I pulled into Nicole’s driveway. Beau didn’t move.
“She’s passed out. You’re going to have to help her,” I whispered, afraid he’d hear the hurt in my voice.
“You want me to help a vomiting whore?” he asked with an amused tone.
I sighed and finally glanced over at him. He reminded me of a fallen angel with the moonlight casting a glow on his sun kissed blonde hair. His eyelids were heavier than usual and his thick eyelashes almost concealed the hazel color underneath.
“She’s your girlfriend. Help her.” I managed to sound angry. When I let myself study Beau this closely, it was hard to get disgusted with him. I could still see the little boy I’d once thought hung the moon staring back at me. Our past would always be there keeping us from ever really being close again.
“Thanks for reminding me,” he said, reaching for the door handle without breaking his eye contact with me. I dropped my gaze to study my hands now folded in my lap. Nicole fumbled around in the back of the truck, causing it to shake gently, reminding us she was back there. After a few more silent moments he finally opened the door.
Beau carried Nicole’s limp body to the door and knocked. It opened and he walked inside. I wondered who opened the door. Was it Nicole’s mom? Did she care her daughter was passed out drunk? Was she letting Beau take her up to her room? Would Beau stay with her? Crawl in bed with her and fall asleep? Beau reappeared in the doorway before my imagination got too carried away.
Once he was back inside the truck I cranked it up and headed for the trailer park where he lived.
“So tell me, Ash, is your insistence to drive home the drunk guy and his whore girlfriend because you’re the perpetual good girl who helps everyone? ’Cause I know you don’t like me much, so I’m curious as to why you want to make sure I get home safe.”
“Beau, you’re my friend. Of course I like you. We’ve been friends since we were five. Sure, we don’t hang out anymore or go terrorizing the neighborhood together but I still care about you.”
“Since when?”
“Since when what?”
“Since when do you care about me?”