the guys that died…” She tried to speak, to explain, but her throat was one big knot.
“It won’t. Just the fact that you called me, that you let someone in, proves that you’re working through this. Just so you know, suffering from survivor guilt and actually being guilty aren’t the same thing. You didn’t cause the crash, you didn’t have anywhere to go without running into another car, and you reacted by the book to the situation. And fast too. I’m sure people have told you this many times.”
“No. Not really. Not in so many words.” It was true. Ben had discussed it with her, and perhaps that had been his message, but nobody had put it like Blythe just had. “Nobody has probably dared since I get so defensive. I shoot them down way before they ever get to the point.”
“Don’t start berating yourself for that too. It’s not hard to tell someone ‘it wasn’t your fault.’ Didn’t you have counseling at the clinic?”
“I hated it. They went way back to my childhood, to my relationship with my parents. To their divorce. Their divorce! I was fucking five years old when they split.”
“Ambitious therapist, but since they knew you were only going to be there a few months, they might have been more successful if they’d been a little less meticulous. Did you even get past your teens before you left?”
Evie chuckled, which stopped her from shaking. “No. I was about at that stage when I started to think about sex.”
“Really?” Blythe snorted. “And which age are we talking about in your case? Early developed or a late bloomer?”
“Early developed physically. Late bloomer before getting the full picture.” Evie knew she was blushing and hid her face, even if she was alone.
“Huh. What does that mean?” Blythe sounded genuinely puzzled.
“I developed early. I’m not very curvy, but the curves I have, I had already at thirteen. I was tall and looked older.”
“And the second part?”
“It took me a while to understand why the other girls were so into boys and swooned over celebrities like boy bands and so on.”
“So when did the penny drop for you?” Blythe seemed more than mildly interested. Was she actually holding her breath?
“Late. I was seventeen before I realized why boys didn’t have a particular appeal for me.” Her heart now pounding for a completely different reason, she waited for Blythe to catch on. This would definitely make her view their dancing together in a whole new light.
“Really.” Blythe’s voice was a whisper. “I was eighteen.”
Was Blythe talking about the same thing she was? Her palms were so sweaty now she nearly dropped the phone, but she had to make sure. “No high-school sweethearts before then?”
“Don’t get me started on high school. So, no. No sweethearts. Just the opposite.”
Confused now, Evie knew they were getting away from what she wanted to know. “And later?”
“At eighteen I fell in love for the first time. She didn’t reciprocate, but for the first time I felt like I had it in me to love someone. Naturally I was crushed to learn she didn’t feel the same.”
She! Evie clasped the phone with both hands. She had thought, hoped, after the dancing, the kiss, and holding hands, but that wasn’t the same as hearing it like this. “I’m sorry about that. I had a girlfriend when I was eighteen. Mal caught us at one point, and, well, you’ve met him. You can imagine what he was like. I wasn’t strong enough to defy him, even if I’d wanted to. My girlfriend reacted badly, since he totally freaked her out. Can’t say I blame her.”
“What happened?”
“Well, when I say Mal caught us, I meant, caught us, caught us.”
“Ah. As in making out.”
“Yeah.” Evie cringed at the memory even though it had been twelve years ago. The panicky feeling of scrambling for clothes while her father was tapping his foot outside the barely closed door was so damn humiliating. “How did your folks react?”
“To
“It won’t. Just the fact that you called me, that you let someone in, proves that you’re working through this. Just so you know, suffering from survivor guilt and actually being guilty aren’t the same thing. You didn’t cause the crash, you didn’t have anywhere to go without running into another car, and you reacted by the book to the situation. And fast too. I’m sure people have told you this many times.”
“No. Not really. Not in so many words.” It was true. Ben had discussed it with her, and perhaps that had been his message, but nobody had put it like Blythe just had. “Nobody has probably dared since I get so defensive. I shoot them down way before they ever get to the point.”
“Don’t start berating yourself for that too. It’s not hard to tell someone ‘it wasn’t your fault.’ Didn’t you have counseling at the clinic?”
“I hated it. They went way back to my childhood, to my relationship with my parents. To their divorce. Their divorce! I was fucking five years old when they split.”
“Ambitious therapist, but since they knew you were only going to be there a few months, they might have been more successful if they’d been a little less meticulous. Did you even get past your teens before you left?”
Evie chuckled, which stopped her from shaking. “No. I was about at that stage when I started to think about sex.”
“Really?” Blythe snorted. “And which age are we talking about in your case? Early developed or a late bloomer?”
“Early developed physically. Late bloomer before getting the full picture.” Evie knew she was blushing and hid her face, even if she was alone.
“Huh. What does that mean?” Blythe sounded genuinely puzzled.
“I developed early. I’m not very curvy, but the curves I have, I had already at thirteen. I was tall and looked older.”
“And the second part?”
“It took me a while to understand why the other girls were so into boys and swooned over celebrities like boy bands and so on.”
“So when did the penny drop for you?” Blythe seemed more than mildly interested. Was she actually holding her breath?
“Late. I was seventeen before I realized why boys didn’t have a particular appeal for me.” Her heart now pounding for a completely different reason, she waited for Blythe to catch on. This would definitely make her view their dancing together in a whole new light.
“Really.” Blythe’s voice was a whisper. “I was eighteen.”
Was Blythe talking about the same thing she was? Her palms were so sweaty now she nearly dropped the phone, but she had to make sure. “No high-school sweethearts before then?”
“Don’t get me started on high school. So, no. No sweethearts. Just the opposite.”
Confused now, Evie knew they were getting away from what she wanted to know. “And later?”
“At eighteen I fell in love for the first time. She didn’t reciprocate, but for the first time I felt like I had it in me to love someone. Naturally I was crushed to learn she didn’t feel the same.”
She! Evie clasped the phone with both hands. She had thought, hoped, after the dancing, the kiss, and holding hands, but that wasn’t the same as hearing it like this. “I’m sorry about that. I had a girlfriend when I was eighteen. Mal caught us at one point, and, well, you’ve met him. You can imagine what he was like. I wasn’t strong enough to defy him, even if I’d wanted to. My girlfriend reacted badly, since he totally freaked her out. Can’t say I blame her.”
“What happened?”
“Well, when I say Mal caught us, I meant, caught us, caught us.”
“Ah. As in making out.”
“Yeah.” Evie cringed at the memory even though it had been twelve years ago. The panicky feeling of scrambling for clothes while her father was tapping his foot outside the barely closed door was so damn humiliating. “How did your folks react?”
“To
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