The Invisibles: Let Me Go Part 2

"It's okay." He opens the door and I flip around his way, smiling in some sort of a.s.surance to his lingering touch. Truth be told, I wouldn't mind those shivers up my spine again.

We don't talk much on the drive to Moo's, an ice cream parlor. Music occupies the awkward silence, and I begin singing along. "You know this song?" he asks and I giggle.

"Did you think I didn't know The Invisibles?" They're the best-kept secret in Western and I've been a regular at their shows since last year.

"You never said anything?" he asks, eyeing me from the corner of his eye. His proud smile isn't hard to notice. He's impressed and I love that he is.

I shrug. "I guess I a.s.sumed you would expect me to." I didn't really think much of it. "But I don't remember you at any of the shows." When I face him, his lips purse and he nods his head.

"I left the band when I went on tour with Krypto. I was the original guitarist, but when I left they found someone to take my spot."

"The blond guy?" He was good, but nowhere near as talented as Rob from what I overheard this morning coming from his bedroom.

His head spins in my direction. "Yeah." He withdraws there and I sense whatever happened caused some disgruntled feelings.

"But now you are back with the band?" He nods again. "What happened to the other guy? They just kick him out?"

He stares out the window for too long and I wonder if he's going to tell me. "He had a baby. Him and his wife."

I smile. "That's cool." His voice doesn't reflect happiness. "Is the guitarist spot yours now?" I'd hate it if it wasn't. I've been excited to watch him perform with the band. He's talented and although he hides under a tough exterior, you can tell he respects Brady and Dex.

"Yeah, I doubt he's coming back for it."

"That's good." I stare out the window as we pa.s.s the campus and head to the opposite side of town.

Rob reaches for the k.n.o.b and lowers the volume. "I should probably tell you, because you'll hear it from someone else and for some reason, I want you to hear my side first." This piques my interest and I twist back his way to give him my full attention.

"The guitarist you saw is Grant, his wife, Jessa, was . . . my girlfriend. s.h.i.tty things happened and s.h.i.ttier things went down. End result, Grant got the girl."

"Oh." I'm surprised by his revelation and even more of his divulgence so early in our friendship. "I'm sorry." What else do I say to that? Except for it sucks.

"Don't be sorry. I'm not even sure why I'm telling you, except you'll hear things about me if you meet the other girls. I was an a.s.shole, I admit it, but in the end Jessa got what she deserved. A man who loves her and only her."

I scrunch my eyebrows and lean back in my seat. I'm not sure how to respond to his declaration. Is Jessa the girl that got away? Confirming to me once again, this boy has secrets. Although, I don't want to be anyone's rebound, Rob intrigues me too much to distance myself from him just yet.

I place my hand on his leg, noticing how his muscle twitches beneath my palm. "Don't worry; I like to make my own judgments about people." He stares over to me and a small smile forms.

Then his eyes shoot forward and I realize we're pulling in. "We're here." He twists the key out of the ignition and exits the car before I can unbuckle my seatbelt. Touchy subject about his ex and although my curiosity is eating me alive, I'll wait until he's ready to open up with me to what happened.

I circle around the car, meeting Rob at the back of his Mustang. Moo's is a black and white spotted building with pink lettering. Colors matching the company's mascot, Maisy the Cow. It's surprisingly not very busy tonight, which will make it easier for me to get to know Rob more. He's more forthcoming with me and I would hate for that to disappear.

Balloons float to the ceiling from every table and kids chase each other, screaming to one another. I've only brought Matty here a handful of times, and I should make more of an effort to do things with him since I'm positive my mom doesn't.

"What do you want?" Rob stares up at the chalkboard menu hanging from the ceiling.

Inching up to the young guy taking orders, I notice his eyes fixed on my chest. He's sixteen, it doesn't surprise me, but Rob does when he steps up, resting his hand on my hip. I furrow my eyebrows up at him and he smiles. "So, babe, what are you having? Your usual?"

I draw back. "Why don't you order for me? Since you know me so well." I attempt to hide my smile, playing along like we're a normal couple.

"Flavor of the day?" My eyes look to the side where the flavor of the day is written-cherry cobbler. I shake my head and the kid across the counter huffs. He's probably late for his smoke break.

"Oh, honey, you should really make more time to get to know me." I chastise him and then face the kid, pushing out my chest a little. It's nice to witness Rob's jealousy and I'm going to seize full advantage of it. "Brownie sundae, no whipped cream and two cherries, please."

"Anything else ma'am?" The kid asks and I practically choke on my saliva.

Rob's head rears back and a howl of laughter expels from him. "Yes, is that all, ma'am?" he repeats and I narrow my eyes to him, digging in my pocket for some cash.

"Strawberry shake," he orders and then his eyes bore into mine. "Extra whipped cream."

When I go to hand the money to the kid, Rob's hand covers mine and pushes it back toward me.

"No, I got this. You made dinner," I argue and he shakes his head.

"You college students need to keep your money. I got this covered." He nods to the kid to grab his money.

Once the exchange is complete, I place my hand on his forearm. "Thank you."

"Do you not like whipped cream?" I'm surprised he didn't ask this question immediately after I ordered.

"No." We meander to our seats in the corner, sectioning off ourselves from the other patrons.

"That's a killer." I sit down and pick a cherry, biting it off the stem.

"I know I know, how could I not like it." I've heard the jokes my whole life, or worse a s.e.xual reference will sneak into the conversation now.

"I guess I'll have to think about something else for you to lick off my body." He chuckles.

"Obviously, you enjoy it." I point to his milkshake with a dollop of whipped cream sneaking out of the top. "So, you must get hard when you watch Varsity Blues and the cheerleader sports the whipped cream bikini."

"Want to watch and see?" He raises his eyebrows a few times fast and my stomach flips.

"You find the movie and I'll watch it with you a seat cushion away."

"Oh, you sure have that hard to get role nailed." His lips cover the straw and he sucks in the cold pink fluid. Briefly I imagine his lips around my peaked nipple and the sensations his tongue would stir inside of me.

"We already talked about this. No dating or hooking up. We're roommates, remember?" I remind him of our earlier conversation.

"We could be roommates that f.u.c.k. I'm sure we wouldn't be the first." He cracks a smile and I still struggle to master when he's joking, or serious.

"I think we'll make really good friends," I counter and he falls back into his chair, completely exasperated from my consistent decline of his seduction tactics.

"Friend-zoned. That's the kiss of death for every guy." Then he props his elbows on the table. "But I'll take what I can get."

We sit at the table and I watch the small kids whine to their parents while Rob's eyes float across the ice cream shop. I pinpoint the exact moment I lose his attention. A blonde saunters in, with her skirt so short her a.s.s cheeks are hanging out. She flips her hair like some eighties shampoo commercial and catches Rob's eyes glued on her. His focus makes her swing her a.s.s more than before and I swear she purposely drops her keys on the ground just so she can bend over.

"Well she doesn't desire attention does she?" I glance down at my pajama pants and flip flops, suddenly self-conscious about my attire.

He glances my way. "Oh don't worry, you naturally catch a guy's attention, friend." A part of me wishes he's staring at the girl because he wants me to be jealous, but I'm not convinced that's the reason for his unwavering eyes on her. "You don't mind if I go over there, do you?" he asks, and even though I want to dump my ice cream sundae over his head, I smile.

"Not at all." He deserts his milkshake on the table as he swaggers over to the blonde currently in front of the refrigerator case perusing the milk and ice cream.

Pulling out my phone to act as though I couldn't care less that Rob is probably asking little Miss Bimbo on a date, I'm unable to stop myself from glancing their way. She paws at his biceps, her fingers grazing along his tattoos. His black T-shirt fits tight along his shoulders, displaying the lean muscles I've been admiring. He tucks his hands in his pockets as he leans against the case. My reaction to the whole unfolding scene in front of me isn't anger, but definitely not indifference either.

When he grabs his phone out of his pocket, typing something, she giggles and flips her hair again before his foot pushes off the refrigeration case. Like it's his signature move, he inches closer, whispering in her ear, making her lean into him. You have to be f.u.c.king kidding me. Rob's hands never brush her, but she captured his sole attention during the whole exchange. For some odd reason it hurt that he never even glanced my way.

He steps away from her and I quickly divert my focus to my phone, as though I didn't just witness him getting a girl's phone number. "You ready?" he asks, picking up his milkshake and taking a sip.

My sundae is now more of a soup and I muster up a dumb face. "Oh, you're ready?" I stand up and throw away my ice cream. "Sure, I have to study anyway." Without turning back around, I exit out the door and straight to his car.

He follows me to the pa.s.senger side but I twist around. "That's okay, I've got it. Thank you." He purses his lips and then back steps away.

"Alright then." He elongates the 'n' and retreats back to his side of the car.

After he climbs in the car, the music starts blaring and I pretend to enjoy it when I'm really just happy for the reprieve. I have no reason to be mad; Rob never pretended to be someone he wasn't. I told him I didn't want to date him, or sleep with him. Did I really expect him to not date while I live in the room next door? No, but maybe I just hoped he could refrain in my presence. Unrealistic I remind myself, a leopard doesn't change his spots and I've witnessed my dad pick up random woman my whole life. It goes with the persona.

MY HANDS WRAP tight around the steering wheel and I stretch my stiff muscles from being confined in my Mustang. I love my car and even more with the additions I've added, but my legs ache to get free. If I'm honest, it's not just the two-hour ride to have lunch with my mom; my insides are churning with the picture of crossing over that town line. That Welcome to Mill River sign with the shot of downtown splashed across it that makes everyone think it's a warm and cozy town can just hold off forever in my opinion. My mom's the only reason I come back. Ever since she reached out to me while I was on tour with Krypto, I've matched her effort in healing our relationship.

She wanted to cook for me, like she always does, but I was not about to pile more on her; I told her we'd meet at a restaurant. When she threw out Market Place, canceling was on the tip of my tongue, but I didn't. So, here I sit in the parking lot, staring at the red checkered logo, trying to gain the nerve to walk in there. To not allow the memories of us together in the booth in the corner. The first time I held her hand, the first time I kissed her, and the first time I told her I loved her. It all happened in that round circular booth by the window. After the accident, I never returned. When a sharp pain nails my chest, I question why I agreed to this. I should have told my mom I'm not ready for this huge step. My counselor thinks it's time though, so I agreed.

A loud tap beats on my window and I startle in my seat. Fear strikes inside of me immediately and I'm about to rush out of my car, ready to defend myself. Then I catch my mom's smiling face staring in.

"Come on," she mouths through the window. My nerves diminish slightly with her here. She was my bodyguard after the accident, constantly defending me.

I'm not even completely out of the car before her arms squeeze tight around me. As lame as it is, her arms still bring a sense of safety to me. "I've missed you," she utters in my ear.

"I've missed you, too." It's been over a year since she wore the genuine smile that lights up her face and witnessing her happy makes me content.

"Come on, you need food. Are you eating up there?" She pinches my stomach and I sidestep her.

"I feed myself plenty, believe me." She studies me for a second and conflict pierces in her matching blue eyes.

"Staying away from temptations?"

I shake my head, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and swaying her thin body into me. "You can't wait until we get into the restaurant first? Maybe some food in my stomach?" Her own arms tighten around me, bringing guilt because she's as worried as I was last year. My drinking habit spiraled out of control during the Krypto tour, and I almost got wheeled out on a gurney. h.e.l.l, I was one bottle away from a body bag. "Sorry, just a little frustrated lately." If I was honest with my mom, I'd tell her about Paige and how I'm twisted in knots, how I don't know which way is up. How much I want to trust Paige, but my fears strangle me.

"Let's get you a burger and then maybe you'll trust your mom a little and let her in." I nod, gripping her shoulder tighter. Witnessing her transformation in the past year implies to me, it's possible. Maybe one day I'll reach half of where she's soared.

When we step inside Market Place, the smell of cinnamon rolls constricts in my throat. Carly never left here without one in her stomach. I joked with her that one day she'd be fat from how many she ate. Grief grips my stomach, recalling back her cla.s.sic phrase.

"One day, Robbie, you'll miss it." I gripped her tighter, telling her she's not going anywhere. I can picture her hazel eyes staring up at mine pouring with love. "No, but if something ever happens to me, you'll miss my love for cinnamon rolls. You'll miss my legs wrapped around you on your bike. You'll miss me sneaking sips of your pop."

My fists clench from the memories of that conversation and my eyes unconsciously divert to the booth-our booth. Carly had no idea how right she was. Her comments were in good nature, playful banter between a couple that loved one another. Never would I have considered months after that, how right she would be.

My mom tucks her hand in mine removing me from the haunting nightmare. She offers me a rea.s.suring smile, and then her shoulders slump. "I'm sorry, Robbie, I should have remembered." It's not her fault; there aren't many places in our small town where memories of Carly don't drown me.

I force back the pressure building behind my eyes. Shaking my head, I peer down to the woman who knows exactly what it's like to be caught between sorrow and happiness. "Nah, this place is great." I muster up a fake smile, and place my hand on the small of her back to follow the hostess to our table.

Thankfully, she leads us in the far back by the bathrooms, and as much as I want to escape through the door and come to grips with the good memories built here that turned sour, I don't. Instead, a mask of indifference covers my face as I pull out my mom's chair. She sits down and stares up at me with graciousness. "Thank you, Robbie." Her appreciation is the only reason I'm back in this c.r.a.p-filled town.

I sit across from her and notice gray hair around the temples. Although I hate it's a sign of her getting older, I like her when she's not so obsessed about her physical appearance. Back when I was in high school, I hated that my friends would love to check my mom out, or hearing the sly comments about her being a MILF.

After a waitress, that thank G.o.d doesn't know us, comes over and writes down our orders, my mom places her linked hands on the table signaling it's time. "So, how have things been?" I get the sympathetic sad eyes, and the turned down lips. It's the sole reason I've never told anyone in Western about the accident, Carly, my dad, or any personal s.h.i.t. Well, I did tell Brady and Sadie a small portion of it when I returned from Krypto. I guarantee it's the sole reason they allowed me to move back in.

"They've been good, Mom. I'm working." I relax back in my chair, my one arm extended across the table, nervously fiddling with the fork.

"Have you given more consideration to school?" I've already prepared my answer for this question on the drive down. She's been hounding me about it for six months. "I talked to Dad-"

"You talked to Dad?" I bolt up straight in my seat. "Why the h.e.l.l were you talking to him?" My voice raises and a few heads glance over. Let them, I can give a s.h.i.t.

"Calm down, Robbie." Why the h.e.l.l should I? He destroyed her, destroyed our family more than I already did.

"No! Tell me why on Earth you'd talk to that piece of s.h.i.t?" I drop the fork and grab the knife, playing with it in my hands.

"It was about you. He wants to reconnect." She sits back in her seat and knots the napkin in her hands.

"Well, that's not going to happen, so you can forget it." I stare down at the table as my blood boils. I wish she wouldn't bring him up here, not now. I'm barely holding my s.h.i.t together without thinking of him.

"He wants to pay for your schooling. He-we both want you to finish, Robbie." A tear trickles down her cheek and it rips my chest open. My dad caused enough tears, I'm not about to. How do I not do something she's asked, she practically saved me-twice.

"I don't know if I want to go back. If I did, I have no clue if I'd even go back into business." She fixes her eyes on me. "What?"

"Your dad wants you to run the company." The napkin is practically spun into a ball now.

My family owns a packaging company in Mill River. The same town where people give me sideway glances, or whisper when I pa.s.s by. The same town I swore I'd never return to as a permanent residence. That will never change, no matter what my dad wants.

"Not going to happen." My voice is flat and final. She realizes there's no reason to continue the discussion and she won't chance me running out of here.

"Just think about it. The offer is on the table, okay?" She extends her arm across the table and grips my hand in hers. Squeezing tightly to get my attention, I look up and she's softly smiling. "Okay?"

I nod, "okay." The waitress comes over and positions our sandwiches in front of us. I ordered the Rueben with extra sauce and a side of fries.

"Why are you frustrated lately? Work?" She mumbles through a bite of her tuna melt.

I shake my head. "Not really. Just not playing as much as I would like. The band is struggling to find time to practice and play shows." I'm the most honest with my mom, but even that is limited.

"Should you find another band?" Here's the bit of information I've left out from my mom. She doesn't know how I ditched the guys to tour with Krypto. And although she knows Jessa from me bringing her home for Thanksgiving two years ago, she has no idea what I did to her.

"No. I just need to find some answers soon on what I'm going to do with my future." She places her food down and then reaches for my hand again.

Tapping her hand on mine, she smiles. "I like that word coming out of your mouth. Future." There was more than a few times I didn't want one, but I do now. Just not sure what it will entail.

"Enough of the sappy c.r.a.p, okay?" I slide my hand out from hers and pick up my sandwich. "Tell me something good." It's a game we started after I returned from tour to allow ourselves to see the good in life, not only the bad.

She proudly sits up in her chair, wiping her hands on the napkin. "Well, I started working out again. I've been going to the gym three days a week."

"That's great. Do you think you'll start teaching again?" My mom used to be an aerobics instructor before she caught my dad sleeping with her partner. She came in early because new equipment was being delivered and found my dad's hands all up on her best friend's t.i.ts. Cla.s.sic story. How cliche could he get? She quit after that, fell into a depression and I wondered if she'd ever return to her pa.s.sion.

"I've been thinking about it. There are so many new fitness regimens that have evolved, I'd have to attend some cla.s.ses." The enthusiasm in her voice and smile on her face brings hope that she will.