Out of Left Field

Chapter 12 - That Old Tire Swing (Sloane)

Sloane

A couple of hours later, I sat in the passenger's seat of Chris's SUV, my whole body tense. I was jumpy and on edge and Chris had picked up on it the moment he walked through the door.

But I kept quiet, insisting that nothing was wrong, I knew he saw right through it. Just as he did any other time something was bothering me. He just couldn't figure out what happened. I hoped that he didn't.

The whole reason we were involved in the first place was to improve his public appearance. Sure, it's morphed itself into something more, but telling him about Stu could cause him to act out and the last thing I wanted was for him to get in more trouble.

The drive to Sudbury was short but felt painstakingly long given the awkward silence that settled between us. Chris kept the radio on, turning it up slightly every 10 minutes or so like he was trying to drown out the silence or elicit some kind of conversation between us that started with me asking him to turn down the radio.

48 minutes later, we pulled into Lisa's driveway, my childhood home sitting next door completely unchanged. Except for the door color. My mother changed it at least once every 3 months. Today, it was a soft pink. The next time we would come to visit, it would almost certainly be a different color.

The tire swing I'd spent my summers on was still hanging from the large oak tree in the front yard, but the rope was worn and fraying, pieces of the tire peeling off and collecting in a pile underneath.

I'd told my dad to take it down years ago, that even if I had kids soon, it was too dangerous and too old for them to swing on. But my mother insisted. So it stayed.

Chris had already gotten out of the car and circled around the hood to pull my door open. He stood in the gravel driveway, his brows furrowed with concern as I sat in my seat and stared at the old house.

 I reached down to undo the seatbelt and turned to climb out, being stopped the second my shoes hit the ground. Chris cupped my cheek, staring down at me with worry written all over his face. "Just– Be honest, okay? Is this– was it too much? Are we going back to how it was before last night? I just need to know."

My shoulders fell as I relaxed into Chris, my arms wrapping tightly around his middle. "No, Chris, no. I'm sorry, I don't wanna go back to how things were. I like how they are now," I mumbled into his shirt, completely taken off guard by the tears that burned against my eyelids.

When I sniffed, Chris gently pushed me away, his hands moving to frame my face. "What happened?"

I stared up at him, guilt forming a pit in my stomach. Yes, Chris was the one who needed help initially, but I still felt so bad for bringing him into this. I let out a defeated sigh. "Stu."

His nostrils flared, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he clamped his mouth shut. "What happened?" He asked again, this time through clenched teeth. I knew his frustration and anger weren't with me, but it still felt like it was my fault.

Stretching up, my lips brushed against his, lingering for a few seconds and only pulling away once the rigid line of his mouth had softened enough to kiss me back.

"Please, Pip. I need to know what happened," he said, his voice significantly softer than before.

Chris's thumb wiped a stray tear that slid down my cheek. "He was waiting for me on my walk back from brunch."