Chapter 18
18
DULCE
T he car is silent as Ford drives out of town. The tension is thick, like breathing hot air under the sun. He hasn’t looked at me since we left the bakery. I'm not sure what he was thinking or if what Danny said was true.
“Is it true?”
“Huh?”
“What Danny said back there.”
"What? About my offer to buy you a van?"
“No,” I say, moving the vent from the air conditioner so the cool air can hit my skin. "What's on your mind when you look at me?"
After a few seconds, I get tired of waiting for him to answer and look out the window. “Not the way he made it seem,” he finally says.
“Oh,” I say, giving him a smile of regret. “Of course not.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have asked, but I just want to know the truth. Why is he helping me?
Every few seconds, he casts a worried glance my way that I purposely ignore. The tension between us stretches, causing my hands to sweat. I check my phone and see a missed text from Katie.
Katie: What does it feel like to be in the same car as one of the most beautiful men on the planet?
Dulce: Hot, cold, and then hot again, but he isn’t talking to me.
Katie: He's likely worried about saying the wrong thing. Danny was upset that you left without him. You have competition, boss lady.
Yeah right.
Dulce: Whatever, not interested.
Katie: You can’t give up because one guy is a douche.
I snort, not realizing I had done it out loud.
“Is everything alright?” Ford asks.
A wave of heat travels up my neck. “Fine,” I say, playing it off.
Dulce: I haven’t met one that isn’t.
Katie: Have faith. I think Ford Keller wants you.
Dulce: You’re reading too much into it.
Katie: Yeah, right. Then why is he offering to buy you shit?
She doesn’t understand that it’s out of guilt.
Many nights, I sat in my room crying myself to sleep, trying to remember anything that night, but I only wake up from a nightmare, reliving it all over again. A faceless man haunts me.
Dulce: I’ll tell you later.
Will I? I’m not sure if I should. I’ve never told anyone what really happened. Obviously, the doctor and nurses who treated me knew. Danny doesn’t know what happened after that night. No one knows the consequences I had to suffer for my silence, and sometimes I think it was done on purpose to make sure I would never forget.
“Are you sure?” Ford asks.
I pocket my phone and reply, “I’m sure.” He stops at a light, and I notice he drives us into the city. I clear my throat. “You know this is unnecessary, right?”
“I’m not following,” he says, but we both know what I mean.
“You don’t owe me anything, Ford,” I say softly. “The past…”
“Dulce…”
“Don’t you mean Betty Cocker?” I shoot back. “It’s what you and your friends called me all the time, isn’t it? Why stop now? It’s like shit. It still stinks after you wipe it off.”
I know it's stupid to bring that up and not accept his help if he is offering it, but I've managed to survive without it. I don’t need his money to bail me out of my problems so he can sleep better at night. The other night, I realized the kiss was guilt-driven. Sometimes I think it must have been a cruel joke to make him feel good about himself because, deep down, they are all monsters.
“I’ve never called you that.”
“But you never told them to stop,” I retort.
What I remember from high school, he would stand next to his friends and watch them do nothing.
The crush I had for him was like a blanket covering the truth.
The light turns green, and a car honks when he takes a second too long to move forward.
“You’re right. I didn’t. I feel?—”
“Guilty.” I interrupt. "Is that why I'm here in your fancy car? Is it so you can throw money at my problems and feel vindicated? Free from guilt? Kiss the victimized high school girl to provide her with a sense of comfort and security.”
A look of horror crosses his face. “No…”
“Then why am I here, Ford?”
He stops behind a parked car near a row of shops. He opens and closes his mouth, clearly not knowing what to say. I’m sure he never thought I would bring any of this up or call him out on his bullshit. But I’m not the shy, weak-bullied girl in high school anymore.
“I want to help you.”
I open the door. “You want to help yourself,” I shoot back, stepping out of the car.
“Dulce…”
I slam the door, not wanting to do this right now.
I spot a café next to a commercial kitchen store with small tables outside and a neon sign that says fresh coffee. When I walk inside, I stand in line, looking at the menu. It’s already two in the afternoon, and I haven’t eaten anything since the rat incident. When it’s my turn, I order a simple coffee and bagel.
Ignoring the curious looks people give Ford, he walks in and scans the tables until he finds me taking a seat in the booth by the window.
I look at my phone, opening the last text Katie sent me so I can tell her to pick me up. I’ll have her take me to Trent’s garage and ask him how much it is to fix the van until I figure out what to do next.
The chair makes a rough sound when Ford pulls it out to sit across from me. “Why did you leave like that?”
“We have nothing to talk about. At least I don’t.”
“Why…” He stops mid-sentence. My eyes snap up. He can probably tell by the look on my face that it's a stupid thing to ask. “I don’t feel guilty,” he rushes out. “If you haven’t noticed, I like you, Dulce.”
One of the employees places my order on the table.
When they leave, and he glances at me, waiting for me to speak, I burst out laughing, almost spilling my coffee. He looks around, trying to find out what is so amusing, but I can’t stop. Maybe it's because I've liked him since I was fifteen and saw him for the first time, and not once did he notice me in a room unless someone was poking fun at me.
When I manage to stop and catch my breath, I tell him, “I’m sorry, but I can’t possibly believe anything you have to say.”
“I know.”
“Then why bother?”
He gives me a determined look. “Because I’m not going to stop until you believe me.”
I lean forward. “Is that why you came back? Because you heard what your stupid friends did.”
Something I can’t define passes in his eyes when he says, “I didn’t know what they did, I swear.”
I know he didn’t. His image is too important, but maybe that keeps him at Airy. People discovering that he isn't the decent guy everyone believes he is. I mean, you have to be some type of selfish asshole to be friends with people like Chris and Trent. I’m not sure if the rumors of him getting Summer knocked up are true, but I’m surprised none of those little details have popped out in the tabloids. Usually, the dirt from celebrity’s pasts is aired at some point.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I press.
“I don’t know why I came back.” He looks at his phone when it rings. He stares at the screen, which keeps ringing with the name Derek flashing on the screen. It stops and then starts again.
I raise a brow. “Are you going to get that?”
He sighs and answers, putting the phone up to his ear. “What? I don’t know.” He pauses. “I know, but I’m not done here. Well, they can wait. I know I have to race, Derek. I told you I had to come back and figure things out…No…” He glances up at me and continues, "I haven't yet, but I will soon. No, I changed my mind. No racing shop.”
So it’s true. He had plans to open a race shop in Airy. I wonder what changed his mind. It means he didn't know what happened if he was considering it.
He hangs up, and I stare at him, trying to focus on my anger but come up empty. “Problems?”
“That was my manager. I planned to open a racing shop but changed my mind.”
“Then why are you still here?” I push. “Don’t you have to race cars in circles somewhere?”
He laughs. “You’re funny.”
“That’s a first,” I say, sipping my lukewarm coffee. “I’ve never heard that one before.”
He grins. “You don’t take compliments very well.”
“I’m not used to them coming from someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” he says unexpectedly. “That’s a first.”
"I'm sure you're accustomed to them, but not me."
“You should. Because it’s true,” he says honestly.
“I need to head back,” I tell him, pushing my coffee away and picking up my phone.
“I had something planned,” he says, confused. “I thought we were good.”
“That’s one thing we would never be. Good.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to buy you what you need.”
“Why?” I ask confused.
“Because in my eyes, we will always be good, Dulce. I just need to convince you.”