“How about,” Dad says, “we all do something fun today first? Starting with ice cream.”
Chase releases a gasp of excitement and he looks at me, his smile young and innocent, half his teeth missing. I smile back at him. Dad hasn’t taken us out for ice cream in forever. It means he’s happy. We’re happy. I’m happy.
40
PRESENT DAY
I like my gym sessions with Dean. Working out is one of the rare things I do to distract myself that is actually good for me. It clears my head for a couple hours, and honestly, I like getting to hang with Dean alone a couple times a week. Out of all my friends, he’s the one I’m most comfortable around. We used to sneak into his garage when we were fourteen and use his dad’s equipment, but over a year ago we upgraded to a gym downtown. I’m trying to bulk up. When I was a kid, I was weak and never had the strength to fight back. That’s different now. These days, I can protect myself if I need to. It puts my mind at ease, I guess.
“Can I ask you something?” Dean says. He’s currently spotting me while I bench press, his hands under the barbell, gently supporting the extra weight he’s added so that I don’t end up crushing myself. I need the extra help, anyway, because my left wrist still plays up sometimes and is forever weaker than my right.
I look up at him, watching his concerned expression upside down, but I am straining too hard to even reply. My jaw is clenched too tight, so I only manage to give him a tiny nod as I push the weight up, my biceps tight and my skin sticky with sweat.
“What even happened to you at Rachael’s party?” Dean asks. “You totally blacked out. You weren’t . . .” He pauses to glance around the bustling gym, but there is no one within earshot of us. He lowers his voice anyway as he looks back down at me again, his eyes meeting mine. “You weren’t on anything, were you?”
His question annoys me, and it gives me the final burst of energy I need to raise the barbell back up into the rack above me. The metal clatters together as I blow out a breath of air and sit up, relaxing my arms. “No,” I say. Usually, I would lie to him, but this time I don’t need to. I’m telling him the truth. “I just drank too much.”
“Yeah, but waaaaay more than usual,” Dean says. “You passed out before it was even midnight. And you nearly sent Kyle Harrison to hospital.”
“What? He couldn’t handle five beers?” I chuckle as I swipe up my towel from the floor and press it to my face, drying my forehead and my hair. My breathing is still heavy.
“Five beers in, like, three minutes,” Dean corrects. He tosses me my water, and I catch it with one hand. He leans back against the wall and folds his arms across his chest, staring down at me in disapproval. “Not many people can handle that. Not even you, apparently. Did you sleep at Tiffani’s place?”
I roll my eyes and take a swig of my water. “Unfortunately.”
“That doesn’t sound too good,” Dean says. He narrows his eyes at me, full of curiosity but also concern. He always looks at me like that. I think that a lot of the time, he’s still just trying to figure me out even after all these years. Sometimes, I wonder if he doesn’t really know who I am anymore. “Are you guys on bad terms or something?”
I almost laugh. Tiffani and I are on bad terms with one another a lot, so I get to my feet and simply tell him, “No. Just Tiffani being Tiffani. C’mon, let’s get out of here.” I don’t want to get into the details, so I head for the lockers.
“Have you talked to Jake yet?” Dean asks as he follows me. I hate when he does this, when he begins to question me about everything and anything. I love the guy, but he’s infuriating sometimes.
I glance sideways at him as I pull open my locker door. “About what?”
“About Eden,” he clarifies. He looks away from me and shoves his head into his own locker, grabbing a towel and his car keys. “Is he seriously interested in her or is he just messing around?” he asks, and his voice echoes around inside his locker.
I slam my locker door shut and turn toward him. “Why don’t you ask him?” Fuck Jake. The thought of him and Eden . . . It pisses me off. I will talk to him about Eden eventually, but not now, and I don’t need Dean to keep bringing it up.
“No. I’m not . . . I mean, I don’t care,” Dean murmurs quickly as he closes his locker and shrugs at me. “I guess I was just wondering. Let’s go.”
We leave the gym and head back to Dean’s car. Sometimes, we grab food or stop for coffee en route home, but today I can’t. I have commitments to stick to, like all of the promises I’ve made to people asking for a hook-up. I need to make some drop-offs before I do anything else today. That’s why I’m quiet during the ride home, because I can’t keep my head out of my phone. I have messages from Declan asking me when I’m dropping by his place, and Tiffani won’t stop texting me ten times every hour to ask what I’m doing. She has become even more clingy than she usually is over the past few days. I reply to her most recent message, telling her I’m heading to the beach with Dean for the afternoon, then I slide my phone back into the pocket of my shorts.
“If Tiffani asks,” I say, angling my jaw toward Dean, “we’re at the beach. All afternoon. Then we grabbed food. Okay?”
Dean pulls a face as he glances at me out of the corner of his eye. The lights flick to red, so we slow to a stop at the intersection. “What are you really doing today?”
I’m about to roll my eyes and ask him if he seriously thinks I will answer that, but my attention is grasped when a girl runs past the car. My head flips around so fast that my neck cracks, and I immediately sit upright and squint out of the window. She disappears off across the street and down the sidewalk, blending into those around her as I stare after her. Her ponytail swings around her shoulders and her bare legs glisten in the sun. I have checked Eden out enough times to know that it’s her. And I also know that she likes to run.
Our light turns green again. We continue ahead and my eyes are scanning the sidewalk until we catch up with her again. She is easy to spot. She is the only person running, carefully weaving her way around everyone.
“Slow down a little,” I tell Dean, pressing my hand to the dashboard. My face is nearly pressed into the window. “That’s Eden. Pull up.” There is no way I am letting Dean just drive on by. Not when Eden looks so good.
Dean does as I tell him, and as we pull over to the right, he also lays on the horn. Eden has her earphones in, but she must hear the horn over the sound of her music, because suddenly her pace slows and she turns around. She is out of breath, her chest heaving, and she pulls out one earphone and takes a few cautious steps closer to the car. I’m not sure if she knows who we are yet since Dean’s windows are tinted, so I quickly roll down my window and flash her a smile. She looks even better without the filter.
“I knew it was you,” I tell her. I think I could recognize her anywhere now. All I’ve been thinking about is her.
“What gave it away?” Eden asks through her ragged breaths. She pulls out her other earphone and rests her hands on the door, leaning forward to look at me with a challenging smirk toying at her mouth. Not only am I in a good mood today, so is she.
I can’t answer her question, though. Not in front of Dean, so I only laugh and glance away from her for a second. “We just got outta the gym,” I say, changing the subject. Teasingly, I add, “We’re heading back to my place and you look like you’re about to die, so you may as well just get in the car.”
“I am not dying,” she argues, narrowing her eyes at me. Loose strands of hair frame her face, and I catch her exchanging a glance with Dean before she sets her gaze back on me again. “I can run for miles, okay?”
“Okay,” I echo, raising the pitch of my voice in an effort to mimic her. I like messing with her, and even though I have places to be and people to see, I want to hang out with her. I push open the car door and she quickly steps back from the vehicle as I get out and join her on the sidewalk. “I’ll jog back with you.”
“But I like to run on my ow—” she tries
to say, but I’m not giving her a choice.
Before she can finish, I step in front of her and lean back in through the window to grab my bag from inside the car. “Bro, you don’t mind, right?” I ask Dean.
He is watching me with what seems to be confusion, but then he shakes his head no and says, “Another session on Wednesday?”
“Yeah. See you then, man,” I say, stepping away from the car. Dean rolls the window back up and then heads off down the street. I stare after the car until he is completely gone, and then I turn back to Eden as we begin to walk. “Just so you know,” I say, smirking, “it was your ass that gave it away.”
Eden’s eyes widen and she looks herself up and down. “Um,” she says, and I realize that perhaps we don’t share the exact same level of humor.
Quickening my pace, I change the subject in case I’ve offended her and instead tease her by saying, “I can probably walk faster than you can run.”
“I highly doubt it,” she says, not quite looking at me as she places one earphone back in and swigs at her water. She keeps her gaze focused straight ahead as she matches her pace to mine.
“I bet I can beat you back to the house,” I challenge. I haven’t showered yet, so I don’t mind working up a sweat again, and besides, she will probably speed back up into a run any second now anyway. “Are you game?”
She rolls her eyes as she looks over at me. “I’m totally game.” As soon as she says it, she doesn’t wait to give us both a fair start. No, she sets off, exploding into a sprint and darting off down the sidewalk in front of me. I don’t mind, though. I like watching her as she runs, as she dashes along in wide strides, her chin held high.
I can’t stare after her forever, though, so I break out into my own sprint, slinging my bag over my shoulder and bounding down the street after her. I’m fast, but I don’t have the stamina like she does. It takes all of my energy just to catch up to her, and when I do, I race straight past her, playfully calling out, “Sucker.”
I hear her laughter echo out around me, breathy and light, and suddenly she is by my side again, our footsteps in sync, thundering down the sidewalk. Already I have pushed myself too hard and I am struggling to breathe, so I slow myself down to a brisk jog. I expect Eden to continue without me, but I’m glad when she slows down too, sticking with me.
“You sure do run a hell of a lot,” I comment, but I am panting like a dog. I really, really don’t do this running thing. Eden, however, is good at it. “Do you do cross-country or something?”
“No. I just like running,” she says. Her gaze is focused on the route ahead and her breathing is quiet and steady. “It’s the best way to work out.”
“Personally, I prefer lifting,” I say, glancing down at my arms. I even flex a little. The workout Dean and I just put ourselves through is most likely going to leave us aching later. “Alright,” I say, bringing myself to a halt and holding a hand up to Eden. “I give up. I’m not a runner. You win.” My breathing is ragged and heavy, so I press my hand to the wall of a building for support while it calms down.
Eden stops too and turns to face me as she places her hands on her hips. She is grinning, basking in the joy of my surrender. “You’re damn right I won.”
“That sounds like something I would say.” I laugh and lift my gaze to meet hers, and her hazel eyes are already boring into mine, glistening as the sunlight hits them. Slowly, she takes her lower lip between her teeth, and whether or not she’s aware that she’s doing it, she is driving me crazy. “We’re hanging out tonight,” I tell her. It’s not a question. I need to spend more time with this girl, not just because I am dying to kiss her again, but because I actually like being around someone who I don’t feel so pressured to put on a performance around, someone who challenges me, and someone who finds me as interesting as I find her. “Let me take you out. Have you been to the pier yet? Pacific Park?”
She tilts her head down a little as her cheeks flush with color, and it’s definitely not from the running. “No,” she says quietly.
“Then we’ll go to the pier,” I say with a smile that I can’t quite fight. Did I just ask her on a date? Also, how has she not been to the pier yet?
“Okay. We’ll go to the pier,” she agrees. Her eyes light with enthusiasm and her mouth forms a perfect, intoxicating smirk, but I only witness it for a fraction of a second before she turns around and bursts back into a jog. She disappears in front of me, shrinking into the distance until she is gone entirely, leaving me wanting more.
My smile never falters, and I don’t even mind the walk home.
41
FIVE YEARS EARLIER
We love staying at our grandparents’ house. Grampa always lets us stay up late to watch TV, even on school nights, and Grandma cooks amazing food and enough to feed an army. We’re staying here for the next three nights, my brothers and me, and we are whizzing through the front door with our luggage. They are the only grandparents we have. We’ve never met Mom’s parents.
“Slow down! Slow down!” Grandma Maria tells us as she emerges from the kitchen to greet us in the hall. We almost crash straight into her, but I’m the first to wrap my arms around her. It feels like we haven’t visited in months, even though they only live ten minutes away, and Grandma gives the best hugs.
“I can hear you rascals from the backyard!” Grampa says. He walks into the hall, sliding a pair of his glasses onto his nose. He’s always been as blind as a bat, and that’s why he tells us never to stare at computer screens for too long unless we want to end up like him. Jamie and Chase fight to hug him.
Dad and Mom walk in through the front door with an air of excitement surrounding them. The entire morning, the pair of them have been acting like kids, rushing around the house and throwing last-minute items into their suitcases. Mom was even drinking champagne at 8AM, so I’m pretty sure the celebrations this weekend are going to be big.
“Your flight. What time?” Grandma asks them. She is from Mexico, and although she’s lived here for over thirty years now, her accent is still thick and her English is still a little broken sometimes. Her skin is tan, her hair is thick and dark, and she has passed those genes down to Dad and me. She still has her arm around my shoulders, soothingly rubbing my arm.
“Noon, so we better get going!” Dad says. He lets go of Mom’s hand and walks down the hall, wrapping his arm around Grandma and kissing her cheek. “Any problems, call us.”
“Pete,” Mom says, fixing Grampa with a stern look, “please don’t take them out in the car. You ran straight through a stop sign last time!”
“Oh, Ella,” Grampa says, rolling his eyes, “you know I will.” He looks over at me and winks. Grampa still owns the red Corvette he had when he was a teenager, and he likes to drive it way too fast. It’s old, but it’s still cool. We love it when he takes us with him, when we fly down the Pacific Highway with all of the windows rolled down.
“Tyler gets his cast off on Monday morning, so please remember to take him to the appointment,” Dad tells his parents, glancing between the two of them, mostly looking at Grandma. She’s more likely to be the one to take me, and I glance down at my cast, covered in drawings and names and dirt. It’s been three weeks, and I can’t wait to finally have it removed for the last time. “And make sure Tyler gets his work done,” Dad adds. I quickly glance back up at him to find that he is already staring at me, his eyes narrowed. He doesn’t like it when he’s not able to keep an eye on me. It’s like he doesn’t trust me to study unless he’s here, so I give him a silent nod of agreement.
“Oh, c’mon, Peter, it’s the weekend!” Grampa says with a chuckle. Dad is named after him, though Grampa goes by Pete now. He runs his hand through his graying dark hair and steps closer to Dad, squeezing his shoulder. “Lighten up. If you guys are getting Vegas, then there’s no way the kids are studying. That’s unfair. Am I right?” He grins at Mom, and she just shakes her head at him, smiling.
Dad doesn’t laugh, though. He cranes his neck to lo
ok at Grampa, who is still standing by his side, still resting his hand on his shoulder. “Dad,” he says firmly, his features hardening. His voice is almost threatening as he quietly demands, “Make sure he studies.”
“Peter,” Mom says, clearing her throat. When Dad looks over at her, she nods at the clock on the wall. “We should make a move. Now,” she says, turning her attention to my brothers and me, “you guys need to behave, okay? Come here!” She crouches down and extends her arms out to us, and we all hug her tight, and she kisses each of us, and she asks us to be good, and we promise her that we will be.
“And you guys behave too!” Grampa says, pointing a finger at Mom and Dad, wiggling his eyebrows at them.
“Si,” Grandma agrees, stepping forward. She places her hands on Mom’s shoulders, kisses both her cheeks, then frowns. She glances at Dad, then back at Mom. “Alcohol . . . Not too much. No casinos. So stupid.”
“Si, si. Te amo, Madre,” Dad says with the roll of his eyes, and I get the feeling he and Mom aren’t going to listen to her advice. “Bye, Dad.”
We watch them from the porch as they climb back into Dad’s Mercedes and drive off, waving goodbye to us until they are out of sight down the street.
“So . . .” Grampa says, turning to face us. He is smirking. “Who wants to go for a drive?”
42
PRESENT DAY
I’m so hungry after running around all afternoon that I don’t even care that we are all sitting in the kitchen eating dinner together for once. Mom, my brothers, Dave . . . even Eden. We are all here, all sitting around the table, all facing each other as I shovel lasagna down my throat. The best part about being vegetarian is that Mom always makes separate dishes for me, and therefore, I get more. I’ll stick to the four cheese, and they can all fight over the meat dish.