Wilde Fire

Chapter 26: Present

We are both quiet as Owen pulls out of the parking lot of Rusty's diner and heads toward my house. There is a country song playing on the radio, the volume low. As we roll up to a stop sign, I hear Owen begin to sing the words softly under his breath. We are about to turn the corner onto my road when a thought occurs to me. "Actually," I say quickly. "Can you take me somewhere else for now? I don't want my parents to wonder why I'm home early."

"Of course," he says with a nod.

I debate on telling him where to take me; the park, the river, maybe just back to the parking lot where I can wait out the rest of my shift to avoid telling my parents what happened at work today. But he doesn't ask, he just drives.

Soon, we are passing by the school. I think he is heading to the baseball field again, where he brought me to talk last time, but he drives past it. I look out the window, at the chain link fence surrounding the baseball diamond, and imagine thirteen-year-old Owen on the pitcher's mound, the bill of his cap pulled down to shield his eyes from the sun. Ben, Kelby, and I would be in the stands, cheering him on.

At last, Owen veers off of the asphalt onto a dirt road, and I know exactly where he is heading. The Jeep maneuvers the rough terrain with ease, Owen driving slow down the gentle slope, as I stare out the windshield and wait to see the edge of the world. Within seconds, it's right in front of me. The dirt road transitions into patches of sand along the rocky cliffside, and suddenly the ocean is before us, stretching toward the vast horizon.

He parks along the path, angling the front of the Jeep to the left, where the firework stands are lined up in an uneven row.

He doesn't say a word as he gets out, walking toward the cliff edge. I follow him, sitting next to him on the rock. I pull my knees to my chest, feeling the cool wind blowing off the water below us.

I quickly realize that if I want us to have a proper conversation, I am going to have to speak first.

"Were you waiting on me long?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No, I made Chris's dumbass walk, then gave the other guys a ride home and came straight back. I planned to wait for you until your shift was over, however long that was going to be."

I don't tell him that I was supposed to work four more hours. I can already tell that he is serious, that he would have waited for me all day if he had to.

I swallow hard. "You know," I say softly. "You could have gotten me fired today." I look at him, and instantly see the regret in his face. It hurts me enough that I almost regret my statement, even though it's the truth. Rita could have easily let me go today, but for whatever reason, she chose to believe in me once again.

"I'm really sorry, Sidney," he puts his head in his hands. "I should have never brought him there. I shouldn't have made a scene like that in front of everyone, in front of you. . . I just--" he pauses. "When Chris said those things, I saw the look on your face. I could see how hurt you were, and it just brought me right back to junior high. I thought I was protecting you, but I know that I took it too far."

There are tears in his eyes, and I believe every word he says.

"I appreciate it," I say honestly. "I really do. I just want you to know that it's not your fault." I reach out for his hand. I hold it tight, feeling the weight of the world slowly falling off my shoulders as I recall the words Rita said to me in her office. They repeat themselves in my head, like a broken record telling me to wake up. I hear her voice, clear as day. None of this has ever been your fault.

I don't give Owen a chance to disagree, because for the first time in nearly four years, the truth is right in front of me. It's as if, all at once, the picture has become clear.