Take Me Away (Everly Place Book 1) Read online

  Sam’s already there, passing beer on the grass.

  Now what? I wonder. What do kids my age do at the lake at night without a book or writing pad?

  A guy I don't recognize is working on starting a fire, I think I hear someone call him Kyle. Meanwhile, a few more stragglers wander down, including two girls from my class and another stranger.

  I keep sipping, and it takes me a good hour to finish this beer. I am enjoying sitting by the fire and being social. This is all new to me, and even though it's not something I want to do often, I can see why people find this entertaining. I may feel differently tomorrow when I wake up, of course, but right now I am finding comfort and courage in this beverage and the calm of the fire.

  I talk with Amber around the fire as the group holds their cups high and sings-along with Garth Brooks, worrying that she feels left out. And then Becca reiterates her stupid idea that we all go swimming. Fearless, now, I oblige.

  We run down to the lake, laughing and stumbling all over. Becca bares all and before jumping in. It's dark enough that you can't see much, but she still has more guts than I do. A couple guys jump in with their boxers on and I decide to venture out with just my shorts and bra; the alcohol has removed any trace of shame I might otherwise feel over my body. Amber sits on a stump, looking very unamused.

  Eric yells to me from the water. "Come on, Iris, jump in!"

  I'm ready to go, too, when I feel a hand grab ahold of my arm.

  "What the hell are you doing? What's gotten into you?" I recognize that voice.

  I turn around to face Clay.

  "I don't think that's any of your business." I yank my arm away from him and fall backwards.

  "Damnit, Iris, you're wasted." He helps me back to my feet. Somewhere under the miasma of cheap beer, I am distantly aware that I’m barely dressed. Eric yells again, but I ignore him.

  "Who is that?" Clay asks.

  I'm eighteen years old; I can do whatever I want. Who does this guy think he is? All of a sudden, he pops back into my life and acts like I owe him an explanation for my actions.

  "That's Eric, and I'm going swimming with him." I smile.

  "Let me take you home." Clay places his hand on my arm again. His touch ripples through my body and I want more than anything to kiss those lips again.

  "Where is Lexi?" I dare as I cross my arms and try to hide my cleavage. I suddenly feel very exposed.

  "I don't know; probably in Mark's house still." He settles his hand behind my back and pulls me closer to him to brace me while I stumble around.

  "Why would you leave your girlfriend to come here and harass me?" I look at the water. Everyone is getting out now, so I pull away from Clay and put my shirt back on. I'm certainly not swimming by myself.

  "Girlfriend? I thought I told you..."

  "Everything OK?" Eric interrupts, walking over to us and pulling his shirt over his head.

  "Yes," I tell him, and grab Eric’s arm to lead him back to the fire. "Clay was just leaving."

  But Clay doesn’t leave; he follows us. Eric grabs a beer from the case and hands me one. I open the bottle and take a drink, and Clay snatches it out of my hand.

  "What the hell?" I demand before laughing at myself. "I just said hell."

  Still laughing. Did I say that out loud? I can't remember. I wrench my bottle back from Clay and Eric steps in.

  "Just let the girl drink and have a little fun." He gives him a little shove. I'm pretty impressed with Eric right now; he’s usually very calm and collected, but then again, so am I.

  "With you? Not a chance." Clay shoves him back, knocking him to the ground.

  This is new: two guys fighting over my attention. I'm not sure what they are really fighting about, but to put an early end to it, I agree to leave with Clay. I want to talk to him, anyways, since I probably won't remember tomorrow and I'm still feeling pretty bold.

  I don't feel comfortable leaving Becca here on her own, so I tempt my cousin with the promise of drinking a beer together in the pole-barn, and meanwhile convince her to ride home with Amber in my car. Lastly, I sneak a couple of beers from the case and hurry to Clay's truck.

  I like the feeling of being sneaky a little too much, I discover. Usually my adrenaline rushes are from reading about something exciting and adventurous; now I am experiencing it.

  "I needed this," I confess to Clay as we pull away from the lake and I hug the two beers in my lap.

  "I'm glad you had fun." He glances over at me with a smile. I wonder how much he has had to drink. I didn't even think about it before getting in the car with him, but he doesn't seem drunk at all. How the tables have turned.

  "Why are you so angry with me?" I ask.

  "I'm not angry; I'm just worried." He has one hand on the steering wheel and the other is brushing his fingers through his hair.

  I give him a confused look.

  "You never drink and you have drunk quite a bit tonight. I don't want you to do anything you regret." I roll my eyes.

  I have him pull over a few yards before my house so that we can walk up without Dad and Aunt Meg knowing about it. The clock on Clay's truck says 1:10 a.m. We’re home before my two o’clock curfew, and so are Becca and Amber; I spot them on the porch swing.

  "So, all you wanted to do was pull me away from having fun, and you drop me off at home so I can be a good little girl?" I ask him, still wondering what his motive here is.

  "I wanted to make sure you got home safe. You aren't used to drinking like that and I don't trust those guys—especially that Eric kid."

  I burst out laughing. "Eric? You seriously think Eric is a threat to me?"

  "Hey, now, it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for." He gives me a wink. I don't know how to take that statement, so for lack of anything smarter to say, I put my head down on the dash, trying not to make eye contact.

  "What's going on with you and Lexi?"

  "Nothing. I told you we broke up."

  "It didn't look that way to me."

  "She doesn't seem to get it. I keep telling her we can't fix it but she keeps trying." He lays his own head back on the rest.

  "Probably because you give her mixed signals. If I broke up with someone, I certainly wouldn't be kissing them at a party.” I shake my head in disbelief at his antics with women.

  "It was a reaction." He brushes it off. I wonder if he plays games with her the way that he does with me. Either way, I still want to find out what grown-up Clay is all about; maybe when I do, this will all make more sense.

  "Come with us," I tell him with a smile.

  He smiles back. "All right. I can hang out for a few minutes."

  Becca and Amber must have grown tired of waiting, because they’re no longer outside and I see the light in my bedroom on. I'm glad Clay is here, though. It's nice being able to interact with him and not feel like his brother is going to come drag him away and make fun of me.

  Minutes turn into hours of talking and laughing on the porch swing, and I've fairly sobered up at this point. Even though I’m no longer drunk, I’m surprised to find myself feeling more comfortable with Clay than I have for years. We talk about his new internship and he tells me about how college isn't at all what he expected and how he really messed up his first year. I tell him I’m considering putting off college for a while and staying home to help my dad.

  "I thought you planned on going to State?" He looks surprised.

  I really don't feel like explaining myself to him, so I just go with it.

  "I am. I've just been contemplating whether or not I should wait until second semester." The truth is, I have no intentions of going to State. Even if I did go to school, I would prefer community college versus a university. I know I have the brains for a bigger and better school, but I don't have the socialization, a degree is a degree, and the introvert in me says smaller is better.

  "I personally wouldn't put it off. You'll feel more comfortable starting with all the freshmen at the same time rather than coming in lat
e."

  "I just need to make sure my dad is OK before I make any decisions."

  This conversation makes me uneasy. I've had it so many times with Dad, my sister, my teachers. I wish everyone would just leave it alone.

  "You can't put your dreams on hold just because you’re scared to leave this town. If you let life pass you by, you are going to resent the people you feel are holding you back."

  "I'm not scared to leave. Well, maybe a little. This town is all I know and the world is big and cruel. But my main concern is my dad and his well-being. We girls are all he has." I shrug.

  When did Clay Keller become so deep? I understand what he says, but he doesn't understand the way I feel. No one does. I don't like where this is going; I need to change the subject before I start getting emotional.

  "What time is it?" I stand up, suddenly realizing it's almost morning.

  Clay reaches his hand in his pocket and pulls out his phone. "4:30." His eyes widen. "Let's watch the sunrise."

  I wasn't expecting that. As much as I would love for this night—or morning—to last forever, I know Dad will be waking up in an hour to get ready for work and while he trusts my decisions, he may be a little concerned to find me out here at this time of the night—or should I say morning?—with a guy.

  "I wish I could, but I need to get some sleep." I frown.

  I’ve had more social interaction in the last twenty-four hours than I have had my entire life. I was finally able to fit-in instead of standing out, and Clay has made me feel things I didn't know were possible. The zest of life that I feel is astounding. I feel like I have opened my eyes to a world of adventure and acceptance, something I have never had before.

  "Yeah... yeah, me too." He stands up. "I'll see you tomorrow. You're coming, right?"

  I cross my arms. "I'll come under one condition."

  "A condition, huh? What's your condition?" he laughs.

  I hold out my pinky.

  "You have to promise that you will still be my friend tomorrow."

  "I promise,” he says, and wraps his pinky around mine, and pulls me in for a hug. All it takes is that gentle squeeze for me to begin melting into his arms.

  "You have to make me a promise now." He rests his chin on my head.

  I pull back and look up at him. "What kind of promise would you want from me?"

  "Promise me that you won't change for anyone."

  "I... I'm not," I insist, but also wonder if it's the truth.

  "Just promise." He stares deep into my eyes and holds out his pinky.

  I take it into mine. "I promise."

  "Good. Now go get some sleep, you little rebel." We both laugh.

  I feel so safe and content in his arms and I don't want to let go. Clay holds me for what feels like minutes, and what I sense inside of myself scares me a little bit.

  I sneak in the side door. I shut it behind me, lean my back up against it, then let out a gasp and whisper: Best night ever.

  Chapter Eight

  I wake up to the very loud and obnoxious sound of my aunt’s voice yelling from the bottom of the steps: "Rebecca Ann!"

  I lift my chin to look over at Becca—still asleep on the floor—and the thumping in my head is too much to handle. I pull the pillow over my face and hope she will just get up.

  Aunt Meg comes busting through the door. "Wake up, Becca, we have to get going." Her orders are still just as loud and stern, but at least they aren't echoing through my brain this time.

  I keep the pillow pressed tightly over my head in hopes of avoiding any conversations about last night.

  "I'm coming, MOM!" Becca heaves a sigh and I think she is surely up now.

  I peek out just enough to thank them for coming and say goodbye. Aunt Meg leans down and kisses my forehead.

  "You may want to shower and brush your teeth before your dad gets home from work,” she whispers, flashes me a half-smile, and pulls the blankets up on me.

  She knows I drank. I feel a flood of regrets, because my aunt has always looked at me as the perfect child. I pull the pillow back over my head in defeat as they leave.

  Soon after, Amber lets me know that her mom is coming to pick her up. I apologize again for my actions last night and she tells me not to worry about it. But I do, of course. Worrying for my people is as much a part of me as an arm or leg; I don’t have a choice.

  The majority of my morning, after I rinse my mouth at least five times and shower, is spent lying in bed writing. Aunt Meg was bad enough; if Dad finds out I drank last night, he will be so disappointed. Lily and Rose, meanwhile, are packing for a weeks-long trip to LA where they‘ll visit a friend from high school. They plan to leave tomorrow afternoon—after begging me to go with them and me constantly declining, they gave up asking.

  I finally manage to pull myself out of bed to face the day.

  "Fun night?" Rose asks as she flips through channels on the T.V.

  "Something like that." I put my hand to my head, and I plop down beside her.

  We start talking about dinner and the Kellers’ pool party. I'm still unsure about the latter, even though I imagine it will be laidback and alcohol-free, since Mr. and Mrs. Keller will be there. The mayor would never allow underage drinking at his home.

  After a stint of lounging to recover, I throw my hair up in a ponytail, settle on wearing a simple pink sundress with my white graduation sandals, and leave off the makeup today. I am back to being plain Iris. Inside, though, I feel like I have changed, like a fresh leaf that has sprung from a tree. The same branch but with a polished new feature. Last night opened my eyes to a whole world of possibilities. Not a world of drinking and late-night swimming, but a world of being carefree and enjoying life a little bit.

  I grab my notebook and pencil, and stick them into my bag with my swimsuit and towel. Hopefully I don't find myself in a corner on a lounge chair writing, but if this goes south and I'm not feeling the swimming thing, I'll need to do something to pass time.

  Lily grabs a desert she prepared and I slump down into the backseat of her car, hoping her driving skills have improved so I don’t show up with a nice shiner on my forehead. Dad drives separately in his truck so we can stay for the party.

  When we arrive for dinner, I am feeling a little nervous. Clay said he wouldn't ignore me, but after last night, I hope there isn't any residual tension or awkwardness. (He did see me in my bra, after all.)

  We are greeted at the door by Mrs. Keller. She wraps her arms around me and her hug makes me think of my mom. Mrs. Keller is such a kind and sweet lady, and the scent of her vanilla body spray gives me a feeling of comfort. When Mom passed away, she would check in on us often and bring dinner over for my dad. She always made me feel at peace.

  I've never been inside the Kellers’ place, and it's like something out of a Home and Garden magazine. Mrs. Keller has decorated it beautifully with a rustic charm. Perfect flowers blink open around the whole house, and a large swing sits in the front porch. Everything is put tidily in its place and it smells of apples and cinnamon.

  We are taken out back to the patio, and spotting the poolside grill, I feel relief. I originally imagined that we’d be having a sit-down dinner; the thought of unwanted glances from everyone at the table made me tense. Instead, Mr. Keller is standing over the grill, donning a red apron that reads Grill Master.

  We all sit down at the patio table. Clay still isn't here. I keep looking around, waiting for him to join us.

  Everyone is discussing the Fourth of July festival that is quickly approaching when he finally emerges.

  "Glad you could join us," Mr. Keller says, sounding annoyed. "Clay had a late night last night."

  I hold my head down to hide the small smile parting my lips. Clay grabs a burger from the middle of the table without sitting.

  "Iris did, too,” Dad says. My eyes widen and snap up.

  Everyone is looking back and forth from me to Clay. They can't possibly know that we were together. My face feels hot and I pray that someo
ne will say something and change the subject.

  "The burgers are really good, Mr. Keller," Lily chimes in. Thank you, Lily.

  Clay pulls a chair up directly across from me, and throughout dinner, we make random eye contact and share a few smiles, all while laughing at my dad’s ridiculous farm jokes. Dad has always had a way of entertaining people and getting along with every person he meets. It doesn't matter if they are rich or poor—he sees everyone as an equal and believes success isn't measured by materialistic belongings or money. One of the many things I admire about him.

  After dinner, my sisters and I help Mrs. Keller clean up and wash dishes. I imagined she didn’t get much help from her sons when it came to household chores, but I’m proved wrong when Clay comes in, carrying the grilling utensils and returning again with the food platters. He brushes against me when he places them in the sink and I feel as though it was intentional.

  Some of the boys’ friends start arriving for the pool party and join the guys out back. After about a half-hour, Dad takes off, leaving me and my sisters. Clay still hasn't talked to me, but he really hasn't said much to anyone. He seems sort of down today—though that may be from lack of sleep.

  The girls summon me into the pool house to change. I grip my bag with both hands and wish that I hadn't given in to their nagging about this stupid swimsuit. Maybe I can make an escape and just hide in a corner chair somewhere.

  "Oh, no, you don't." Rose pulls me back as I try to sneak away. "Have some fun and let loose," she says. I feel like I did enough of that last night.

  I give in once again, anyway, and put on the swimsuit, tugging my dress back over it until I decide to get in the water—if I decide to, at all. The pool area is getting pretty full now and Mr. Keller is a lighting the fire pit outside the gate. I find myself a nice, comfortable lounge chair and sit back to read Little Women while everyone else interacts. I'm probably setting myself up for humiliation by reading another book during a social gathering, but I've never been one to try and impress.

  The music is loud and the guests all seem to be having a good time. I'm starting to enjoy myself a little bit, too, though—as you know well by now—I'm more of a sit-back-and-watch kind of gal.