I drive home in silence.
She sits in the passenger’s seat. In silence.
I drop her off at her house. Still silent.
Then I drive to Dumb Name’s house so I can punch him.
I don’t.
I’m not really a punchy kind of guy, no matter how badly I want to be. Instead, I look him in the eye and I ask, “Why her?”
He says, knowing exactly what I’m talking about, “What does it matter? I wasn’t the one for her. And besides, you’re two years late. That’s two years too long. What the fuck are you waiting for, Luke?”
Chapter Seven
LOIS
All blood drains from Dad’s face.
He looks shocked.
Angry.
Furious.
We sit at the kitchen table while his new girlfriend, Misty, sits in the living room, a glass of wine in her hand. It’s the first time I’ve met her and I wish I could’ve left a better first impression, but there’s not a lot you can do when you’ve spent the last hour alone in your room, an endless stream of tears running down your face, leaking into a pillow, a pillow that smells like the boy that’s caused your tears. I heard them come in, their voices loud, their laughter louder. Then Dad called my name, and I answered that I was here, so he asked for me to meet his Misty. He actually said, “Come meet my Misty.” I loved that he called her his. She would love that he called her his. I loved that he sounded so happy. So, so happy. But I also knew that I had to tell him about Mom, and I knew I would be the reason why his happiness was short-lived, so I didn’t bother wiping my tears, didn’t bother hiding that I was going through some kind of emotional breakdown. I wanted the news to come from me, and it had to be soon because I didn’t want to give Mom that victory. We’ve given her enough.
“I’m so sorry, Lois,” Dad says, his voice breaking. “I should’ve been more diligent. I just…”
“You can’t blame yourself for this, Dad.”
“We saved for so long. You’ve worked so hard the past two summers for this.”
“It is what it is. There are other colleges, financial aid. I can always go to community college or whatever.”
“But UNC’s your dream.”
Because I wanted to be close to him. Because I didn’t want to leave him alone. But in the past year, he’s started dating again and he’s on his feet and his social life has taken off and he doesn’t need me around. “It is what it is,” I repeat and come to a stand. “Go be with your girlfriend, Dad. Enjoy each other’s company. You deserve it.” I smile, but it’s forced.
“Lois,” he says. “How was your day with Luke?”
I shrug. “It was the same as always.”
“You seem to be taking this college news pretty well. Did he say or do something to make you feel better about it all?”
I nod. “Yeah. He did.” He made me realize that no matter where we were, how far away from home we were, things wouldn’t change. So what if we had another four years together? It was only four years. After that, he’d go off and do his own thing, and I’d do mine, whatever that might be, and nothing would change. Three years ago, I had the same thought. We had four years of high school together. Maybe then he’d look at me differently. He’d look at me the way he looked at any one of his past girlfriends. Or the way he looked at the girl at the diner today. He’d see the wideness of my hips, the largeness of my breasts. He’d blush when I’d smile at him the way he did with her.
But he teased me all day. His hands, his words, his everything. He liked the attention I gave him, the way I’d blush when he jokingly flirted with me.
Because that’s how we worked, Luke and me.
He was a tease.
And I was a joke.
LUCAS
I wanted to kiss her.
I’ve wanted to kiss her since the moment I saw her.
But we were eleven. It would’ve been weird.
Now I’m almost eighteen, and I’ve kissed enough girls to make up for all the pent-up angst that’s built from not finding the courage to actually kiss the girl I want to kiss.
She told her dad that she’d dated. She’d never told me she dated, never even mentioned a date or a guy in passing. And it made me want to kiss her more. I didn’t want to bring it up because I knew she had other things going on, but I was curious. So I asked, and she answered, and her answer made me furious.
Curious and furious.
And rhymy, apparently.
“Watch!” Lachlan demands.
I push aside my thoughts of Laney and focus on my brother. “I see, bud. You’re getting good at brushing your teeth on your own,” I tell him through the reflection in the bathroom mirror.
He smiles wide, toothbrush in hand, a mixture of baby and adult teeth on full display. “I’m Thor years old!”
“You mean four?”
“No. Thor! Tongue to teeth, Luke. Thhh-or!”
With a laugh, I say, “Four is the number. Thor is the superhero. And you’re six, dude.”
“I know!” he laughs out, looking down at his hands holding up five fingers. “Six.” Then he continues to brush his teeth. When he’s done, he asks, “Do you think I’ll live to be eleventy-three?”
“I’ve told you, eleventy-three isn’t a number.”
“Is so.”
“Is not.”
“Is so.”
Sigh.
“Lucas, will you buy me a four hammer? I asked Dad. He says I have to do chores. But you’ll just buy it for me because I’m your best friend, right?”
I shake my head. “If Dad says you have to do chores, then you have to do chores. And you are not my best friend. Laney is.”
“And Dumb Name.”
“Don’t call Garray that.”
“Why not?” he asks, stepping down from the stool we have set up so he can reach the taps at the sink. Clearly, he got his height from my mother. “Everyone else does.”
“Because…” I drop to a squatting position and wait for him to climb onto my back. “Just because.”
“Because why?”
When he settles, I stand up and piggyback him to the door. “Because I said so.”
“Fine,” he moans, switching off the light. “Laney’s my tooth fairy.”
“What?”
“Daddy said she’s there to watch out for me and take care of me if no one else can.”
I walk us to his room, a room filled with my trophies and medals and pictures of me running, pictures of us together. I drop him on his bed. “You mean your godmother? How in the world do you get godmother and tooth fairy confused? You goose!”
“I’m not Luce!” He cackles and squirms on his bed, shifting the blankets beneath him. “You ready for your one minute?” I ask.
He nods, still squirming. When Lachlan was a baby, he wouldn’t sleep unless he was being held. Then as he got older and moved to a big boy bed, the only thing that changed was that only I was allowed in his bed. So every night at 7:00, I’d get in his bed with him and wait until he fell asleep. Sometimes, he wouldn’t be able to sleep and after a long-ass time of lying there, wide awake, I’d attempt to leave. He’d cry. I’d tell him that I would only lie with him for one minute. He had no idea how long a minute was so it was more like five seconds. At some point, he started calling tuck-ins “one minute” and now it’s stuck.
I fix his blankets and tell him to get under before joining him. “Can I cuggles you this time?” he asks.
I shift to my side and face him. “Sure.”
His small arms wrap around my neck and pull me toward him so his forehead’s touching mine. “Remember that time when you weren’t here to cuggles and do my one minute?”
My eyes narrow, my mind searching. “When I was at track camp?”
He nods. “And New Jersey at the start of summer.”
“How do you remember track camp? You were three.”
“I remember things from when I was free.”
“Three,” I correct. “Tongue to teeth. Thhhh-ree.”
“That’s what I said!”
“Okay.” I close my eyes, the exhaustion quick to consume me. I hadn’t slept much last night, and I’d been out with Lane most of the day. I’m almost tempted to sleep in Lachy’s bed with him, but the second I close my eyes, Laney fills my mind.
I wanted to kiss her.
When she told me she’d miss seeing me every day—I wanted to kiss her.
“Do you love Laney?” Lachlan asks.
The kid reads minds. “What?”
“Do you love her?”
“Yes,” I tell him truthfully.
“Like Cam loves Lucy?”
I wanted to kiss her when we were in that store, my hand on her waist, her chest against mine. I wanted to dip my head, find her lips with mine and devour them the way I’ve only ever dreamed about.
“Luke!”
“What?”
“Do you love her like Cam loves Lucy?” he asks again, his blue eyes big and waiting.
“How do you think Cameron loves Lucy?”
“They sex,” he says simply.
“What the f— What the hell did they teach you in school?”
“Do you and Laney sex?”
I get out of his bed and throw the blankets over his face. “Go to sleep.”
“Do you?” he shouts, but I’m already rushing out of his room. “Do you and Laney sex?” he yells, louder this time.