Katie McGarry - Crash Into You

“I hate how it took someone wonderful and destroyed her. I hate how cancer ripped apart a family. I hate...I hate...that I would have never been born without her death. Cancer wasn’t fair to Colleen. It wasn’t fair to Mom and Dad. It wasn’t fair to Gavin and Jack.”

A tear escapes from the corner of my eye as I stare straight at my parents. “And it sure wasn’t fair to West, Ethan or me.”

My mother places a hand over her mouth, and a sickening pain strangles my gut when I realize I spoke every thought I’ve had since I can remember. My body shakes and I run a hand through my hair. What have I done?

A million eyes gawk at me. The back door to the room opens and I almost weep with relief: Isaiah.

Isaiah

THE ENTIRE ROOM TURNS AND stares. There’s no doubt what they see—ripped jeans, a black T-shirt, tattoos and earrings. I don’t care what they see. All I care about is what she sees: a person unwelcomed or the guy she loves.

A tear flows down her face, and the hand wrapped at her waist tells me she’s paralyzed. In a long gold ball gown that’s more skirt than dress, Rachel is truly the angel I believe her to be. A man in a tuxedo stands. “Son, I think you have the wrong room.”

“No. I don’t.” I stride between the tables, keeping my eyes locked with hers. The closer I get, the more she straightens. Her hand falls from her stomach, and the tear clears from her face. Rachel gazes at me as if I’m a dream. I extend my hand, palm out. “I need help.”

Her blue eyes lose their glaze, and the hue of violet I love so much returns. “So do I.”

My fingers tighten around hers and I gesture to the parking lot. “Is your car here?”

She nods. “Good,” I say. “Because Zach will only race you in your Mustang.”

The smile she flashed to me the first night we met brightens her face. “Then let’s go.”

Rachel

WITH MY HAND IN HIS, Isaiah sets a blinding speed and I match it. People stand, unsure what to do. Confused and rapid conversation erupts around us. I should be freaked by the way they stare at me, but instead, I get hit with an adrenaline rush and I feel—alive.

In the hallway, I’m desperate to keep pace, hoping to leave my family behind. I kick the heels off my feet, and Isaiah flashes a crazy grin. “Blacktop’s cold.”

“I can’t drive in heels. Besides, you can carry me.”

I love how he laughs.

“I’ll need clothes,” I say.

“Zach would pay double for you to race him in that.”

“I’m serious.”

“We’ll call Abby and Echo once we get in the car. They’ll find something.”

“Rachel!” my father yells from down the hallway and I stop cold. The blood drains from my body.

Isaiah rounds on me, concern clouding his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I need my keys.”

He yanks a key out of his pocket. “Had one made. In case you lost yours.”

“Rachel!” My father slows and warily eyes us as Isaiah moves in front of me.

“My father won’t hurt me,” I whisper to him.

“It’s not him,” he mutters. “It’s your asshole brothers I’ve got a problem with.”

Taking his hand, I step by his side. Isaiah shoots me an unsaid warning.

“Dad,” I say with a mixture of complete fear and courage. “This is Isaiah.”

Isaiah nods. My father gapes. Overall, the first introduction could have gone worse. One by one, my brothers join my father. Each one of them a different level of angry.

“What’s going on?” Dad asks.

I turn my back to my family. “Go get the car,” I whisper to him.

Isaiah glares at my brothers. “I won’t leave you here.”

“I’m going with you. Just do as I ask.”

As if it physically hurts him, Isaiah walks out the door. I inhale deeply, hoping I made the right decision as I confront my family. With wide eyes and a hand on her dress, Mom slowly joins my father. “Who was that, Rachel?”

“My boyfriend,” I say. “His name is Isaiah.”

My father’s skin becomes a strange shade of purple as he loosens his tie. “What you’ve done tonight...with that boy...and that speech...”

I cut him off. “I only did what you and Mom asked. You wanted me to talk about Colleen, and I did.”

His anger grows, as does the level of his voice. “That was an embarrassment!”

“It was the truth!” I scream.

My father blinks and my mother tilts her head. She peers at me as if looking at someone she’s never seen before. Maybe she is, because the person in front of them is me: the Rachel I’ve hidden for years. I grab Mom’s hands, squeezing, begging for her to see. “Look at me.”

“I am,” she says softly.

“Look at me!” I scream. “I’m not Colleen. I’m not even a bad replica. I’m Rachel. I hate purple and I hate malls and I hate shopping and I hate being a disappointment.”

“But you said you learned to like...” And she closes her mouth.

“Because you wanted to believe.” I snatch my hands away and point at my brothers. “At least look at them. Two of them want nothing more than for you to love them, and the other two spend their entire lives trying to be perfect. Meanwhile all of us are screwed-up.”

“Rachel.” My father’s tone drops to a mixture of sad and tired. “Not now.”

“Why not now?” My skirt swirls as I face him. “Have you ever thought that you created this? If you had given Mom an ounce of respect and treated her as an equal instead of like a child, that she would have found a way to get over her grief?”

Mom’s eyes flit between me and Dad. “What is she talking about?”

I glare at Gavin, waiting for him to confess. Instead he lowers his head and leans his back against the wall. Disgusted, I stare at Mom. “They do the same thing to me that they do to you—protect. But I don’t need their protection. I’m strong and I have a feeling you’re strong, too.”

“She still has panic attacks,” says West. “I know you think you’re strong on your own, Rach, but you need us.”

My heart hurts as West and I stare at each other. Lines worry his forehead and the hurt that I see—is it possible that all his concern, his worry, his overprotection...could it be that he really just needs me to need him?

Mom’s face becomes blank and pale as if she’s going to pass out. “Why would you lie about being over them?”

“Because,” I say with way too much anger and then force myself to calm down. “Because the real me made you sad, and when I changed you became happy. You wanted me to like shopping, so I did. You didn’t want me to like cars, so I hid it. My panic attacks made you cry, so I lied.”

The rumbling sound of my Mustang echoes behind me. I slowly back away from them and toward the door. “I’m done making this family happy.”

West and Jack begin to move in my direction and I realize I won’t make it.

“Rach!” Ethan yells, waving them off. They give him space as he grabs my arm. I jerk, but he subtly shakes his head. Ethan shoves my small purse into my hand and abruptly opens the door. “You owe me.”

Isaiah

AT THE DRAGWAY, I PARK Rachel’s Mustang next to Echo’s ’65 Corvette and smile when I hear the sharp intake of air from Rachel.

“She’s beautiful.” Either forgetting or not caring she has no shoes, Rachel plops out of the car in full ball gown and heads for the ’Vette. “Are those the original fenders?”

Standing next to each other, Echo and Noah laugh. Echo answers, “I don’t know.”

Completely floored the owner of such a classic doesn’t know the answer, Rachel turns to me. I sweep her up into my arms, hating that she’s barefoot on gravel, and she squeals when I do it. “The car belonged to Echo’s brother.”