The Wayward Sons: (Book 3) Starlee's Home

by Angel Lawson

  Starlee bites down on her plump, red bottom lip, her crotch rubbing against me frantically. It feels good and damn, I can tell she feels good too. I’m entranced when she moans softly and her body starts to tremble. She shivers, shudders, drops her head so her hair trails over my chest and I kiss her, feeling her ride her orgasm out just as mine is beginning.

  “Jesus,” I breathe into her mouth and her tongue slips between my lips, only adding to the sensation. My hips buck and I groan, breathing deep against her shoulder. When I look up, she smiles at me, nose wrinkled at the sticky wetness between us.

  “That was…” she says and I see her cheeks start to warm with embarrassment.

  I touch the side of her face. “Amazing. You’re amazing.”

  I mean it, and as she lowers herself into my arms, I’m glad it turned out this way. Being apart is making us desperate. Risky. A little dry-hump in the backseat of the car is a reminder that it’s okay to slow down. It gave me a chance to see a different side of her; a little more confident, a little more secure. And ultimately, I just want Starlee to feel free.

  17

  Starlee

  With a week left before Christmas break, we shift into gear. Besides school work, there’s the service project, which kicks off hard-core on Monday, meaning the weekend is getting it all set up.

  I feel a strange sense of pride with this project—it’s the only thing I’ve really done on my own since coming to California. The lodge is my grandmother’s. Homecoming was orchestrated by Claire and only happened because of my association with the fact the student body finds the wayward sons as irresistible as I do. The serving stuff was my own—especially this winter project.

  “Starlee!”

  I turn away from my open locker and see Jasper walking down the hall. He’s wearing a blue and gray letter jacket—a baseball logo on the chest. “I wanted to find out what time you wanted to meet to go get the tree tomorrow.”

  “I’m pretty available all day, what works for you?”

  “Late morning?” He looks at his phone—the weather app. “The weather actually looks pretty nice.”

  Thank goodness for that. The last thing I need is a repeat from Thanksgiving and the freak snowstorm that ruined our lives. “Can I meet you here?”

  “Actually, the tree place is up past Lee Vines. That’s where you live, right?”

  “Yeah, it is. You want to pick me up?”

  “Sure. How about eleven?”

  “Sounds good.” I glance up at the clock on the wall. “I better run to catch my bus.”

  I walk outside and the bright sun hurts my eyes but like Jasper said, the weather is pretty nice. I hear loud laughter and look to my right, seeing Christina holding court with her friends. She spots me and her lips turn in a cruel smirk. To my surprise though, she says nothing. Well, that’s a first.

  I keep walking and get on the bus, sliding down in the vinyl seats. I have a clear view of the parking lot and Dexter’s Jeep. It’s stupid that we’re going to the same place but my ride takes twice as long.

  By the time I get home, Jake and Dex are busy at the shop and I plan on spending Friday night alone, when I get a call from Claire.

  “Want to go to the movies tonight?”

  “Really? There’s a movie theater around here?”

  “Sure. It’s between the June Lake dance studio and the Sophisticated Woman Wig Shop.”

  I laugh. “That can’t be a real thing.”

  “I took dance there until I was twelve and people need wigs. It’s just a fact.” She laughs. “Come on. I’m bored and it’s cold and I already know you’re not doing anything tonight.”

  “Hold on, let me see if it’s okay with my grandmother.”

  Turns out, it’s fine. Leelee has plans with Tom. “Meet me at the diner down the block at six.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I’ve hung up the phone when it rings again. I don’t recognize the number but it’s not in America.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey girl!”

  “Hi Mom, how are you? Where are you?”

  “Amazing,” she says, sounding like a different person than a few months before. My leaving gave her some kind of profound clarity and she took off on a trip to Europe on her own. “And Greece. It’s beautiful.”

  She launches into a description of the buildings and art—her yoga and meditation classes. She sounds happy and I’d made a decision not to tell her all the drama going on here. There’s nothing she could do about it and I also wasn’t ready for a big dose of “I told you so” about the complications of being in relationships.

  “What are you up to?”

  “Headed into town for a movie, actually.”

  “Oh, the one in June Lake,” she says fondly. “I spent many weekends at that theater. Do you have a date?”

  The question is asked with forced lightness. She’s wondering about Dexter or maybe one of the other boys. For once, I don’t have to lie. “No. I’m just meeting a friend.”

  “A girl?”

  “Yes. Her name is Claire.”

  Having a female platonic friend is almost as big news as a boyfriend. It’s all foreign territory for me and my mother to navigate, but to her credit, she manages to keep her opinions and fears in check.

  I do my best to change the subject. “Do you think you’ll come back to the States for the holidays?”

  “I was planning on it,” she says, “but I’m enjoying myself so much and I’m just not sure I’m ready to come home.” Her tone shifts. “Do you want me to come?”

  “It’s up to you. Leelee and I can celebrate together.”

  “You have your neighbors too, right? You do a lot together.”

  “Right. I’m sure we’ll have something big planned.”

  “Oh, the Woolly Drop! I forgot all about it. You have to go!”

  “The what?” I sit on my bed.

  “The Woolly Drop. It’s this crazy New Year’s Eve thing down in Mammoth Lake—at the resort. It’s like the ball drop in New York, but you know, with a local twist. You should go—take your friends. It’s fun.”

  “I’ll look into it.”

  “I got my first kiss at the Woolly Drop. From Bobby Kringle.” I can hear the smile in her voice.

  “That’s great, Mom.” I look at my watch. It’s already five-thirty. “I should probably go and finish getting ready. It takes a while to get down to June Lake.”

  “Right. Be careful on the roads, okay?”

  “I will.” There’s a beat and for the first time in a long while, I miss my mom. “Have a good trip.”

  “I’ll talk to you soon, sweetie. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I hang up and sit on my bed for a moment longer, thinking about how far my mom and I have come over the last few months. Distance helps. And a little clarity. I glance out the window at the house next door. I hope maybe the same will happen to us, too.

  Dinner at the diner is fun. I get a greasy hamburger and fries. Claire shares more about herself, and the fact she’s been seeing a girl she met the prior summer when they both worked at a camp down on the lake. Her name is Bridget and she’s a freshman at Reno.

  While she talks, I eat and I study the memorabilia hanging on the walls. It goes way back and there are a few photos of Lee Vines, including the lodge. “Hold up,” I say, getting up from the table and crossing the room. Over the antique juke box is a photo of a group of kids sitting outside the Wayward Sun—although it’s not a coffee shop. Probably back when it was a boarding house. The kids are around my age—teenagers—and although the color is faded, I make out fire-red hair similar to my own and a freckled nose. My mom.

  I point her out.

  “Your mom was smokin.’”

  “Right? I love her style.”

  “Do you talk to her a lot?” Claire asks when I get back to the table.

  I shove a fry in my mouth. “Sometimes. I actually spoke to her today. She’s in Greece.”


  “Wow. I’ve always wanted to go Europe.”

  Me too, just not the way my mom wanted to do it. “She’s having a good time. It’s kind of a spiritual thing.”

  “Do you miss her?”

  “Lately, with everything going on, I kind of do. But before that, we really needed some space from one another.”

  “And that’s why you ran away?” She takes a sip of her chocolate milkshake.

  “I guess. It’s complicated.” I don’t mean to hide this from Claire, I just don’t really feel like going into it right now.

  She nods and I don’t feel any judgement from her. “I bet. My mom would lose her shit if I got on a plane by myself and flew across the country. You’ve got balls, Starlee.”

  I laugh, because I’ve never thought of myself as particularly brave. If anything, running felt weak, like I couldn’t stand up for myself on my own. I had to sneak out in the middle of the night and do it from three thousand miles away.

  “Can I ask you something else?” she says. Her voice is quiet and hard to hear over the music and other diners. There’s a few tables of kids I recognize from school, including one filled with football players. I scan the group for Jake but my heart sinks when I don’t see him.

  “Probably,” I reply with a smile.

  “What’s really going on with you and the guys? I mean, I know you were sort of dating Jake at homecoming, but I get the feeling there’s more going on.”

  I pick up a fry and then drop it back on my plate, feeling the salty grease on my fingers. “We’re just really close. Close enough that I don’t feel like I could ever choose one guy over the other.”

  And they won’t make me, I almost add, but don’t.

  “I’ve known them for a long time, Jake especially, and they’ve all calmed down since you moved here. I’m not scared of much, but Dexter was pretty terrifying for a while. A complete loose cannon. I mean, he always had that sexy bad boy thing going on—you know, if you’re into that,” she laughs, “but he was also trouble with a capital T.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen that guy.” I think back to the night we met—when he protected me. “He’s come a long way.”

  She nods. “George was such a goofball mess. Always the loudest one, but you could tell he wasn’t happy until he moved in with Sierra. There was a darkness under all that energy.”

  I don’t like hearing that—George is the brightest of them all. I never want to see that side of him.

  She sucks on her straw again. “Charlie was an enigma. Probably still is, but I’ve seen him talk and smile more in the past three months than in the whole time I’ve known him.”

  “And Jake?” She and Jake had been friends through Christina back in the ninth grade. She’d done both of them wrong.

  “Jake just seems settled. More focused. I see the way he looks at you—he never, not once, looked at Christina like that.”

  “They’ve helped me too. I never had many friends growing up and I missed out on a lot of basic teenager stuff.” I look around the diner. “Like this but even more. I had a lot of fears when I came here last summer. They showed me it was safe to try new things.”

  The waitress comes over and lays our checks on the table. Claire glances at the time and then out the window. “We should probably go if we want to get good seats.”

  I don’t tell her this is my first time going to a movie with a friend since I was much younger. I’d gone often with my mother—she loved documentaries and considered them part of my education. Those were always held in the weird art theaters instead of the mega-plex just off the highway. The June Lake theater has one of those old-style marquees in the front with the titles of the movies lit up in red plastic letters. There’s only two choices and we pick the action movie over the cartoon. The theater itself is huge, with two wide sections of seats covered in soft red fabric.

  “Do you mind if we sit in the back?” she asks as we walk in, our hands filled with drinks and candy. “I hate sitting near noisy people.”

  “Sure,” I say, scooting down the next to last row. It feels a mile away from everyone else, but I really don’t mind. I prefer quiet during the movie also.

  People continue to file in during the previews—which are actually my favorite part—and I settle into my seat, ready to watch giant robots save the world from aliens.

  The movie has barely started when Claire leans over and whispers in my ear. “Have fun.”

  I tear my eyes away from the hot guy on the screen who happened to lose his shirt in the first ten minutes. “What?”

  The seat on the opposite side of me squeaks as it lowers and the body filling it takes up way too much space.

  “Hey, babe.”

  My heart lurches when I hear his voice. “Jake?”

  I look back for Claire, but she’s already exited our row and is walking down the aisle, taking a seat a bit further down. Jake, in the meantime, has pushed up the arm rest dividing our seats and thrown an arm around me, pulling me close.

  The explosions coming from the stereo hides the thundering of my heart but I’m genuinely in shock that he’s here with me. In the dark. Semi-alone. “How did you know I was here?”

  “A bossy, edgy friend of ours called me. She figured I’d make a better date than her.”

  “Oh,” I say, dragging my eyes off his shadowy face and looking back at the screen.

  “Is that okay?” he whispers, taking my hand in his.

  I swallow and nod. “Yes, just a surprise.”

  Surprise isn’t exactly the right word. Ecstatic is more accurate, but I’m trying not to look like I’m about to jump out of my skin with his closeness. He smells amazing and I’m engulfed by the unique, heady scent of boy skin and laundry detergent. Ever since that night in my room, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him and the way he ignites something in the pit of my stomach. We didn’t go as far as me and Dexter have, but in some ways it was more intimate, and the simple brush of his fingers against my skin lit me on fire.

  I focus on the movie, or pretend to, and there’s no doubt Jake is playing the same game. We last about ten more minutes before his hand starts to wander, ghosting over my fingers and palm, my wrist and arms. I have to think he knows what he’s doing, because each movement, each touch sends my body into a spiral of want, and when he glides his hand down my thigh and presses his lips to my neck, I gasp in the dark.

  Chills run up and down my body, making my limbs both weak and energized all at once. He must notice because he drapes his coat over my lap, providing me with warmth.

  And cover.

  I want to touch him, hold him—kiss him. I turn my face to his, capturing his lips with mine. The dark of the theater plus the false privacy makes me dumb and Jake only encourages me with his strong kisses and needy hands.

  “I hate not seeing you,” he mumbles against my mouth. His hand inches up my side, dipping beneath my sweater. I lean into him, wanting more. “I hate this whole freaking thing.”

  I respond with my mouth, my body, the yearning absolutely ridiculous. I don’t care where we are, I just want to touch the hard lines of his chest, the defined muscles on his abs. I push my fingers across his belly, feeling the soft hair above his waistband. I stroke the spot, my elbow rubbing against his hard erection, and he hisses, grabbing my wrist with his massive hand.

  In the dark we stare at one another—hyper-aware of each other. His chest moves with deep breaths and he warns, “That will not only get us caught but kicked out.”

  I nod. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” He kisses me slower, taking it down a notch. “Just be aware that I have only so much willpower when it comes to you.”

  His admission thrills me. Jake may struggle academically but he’s a man of conviction, dedicated work ethic, and extreme focus. He runs, lifts weights, and studies his football plays with the intensity of a college scholar. I’ve seen him turn away Dexter’s desserts and run past my house at the crack of dawn. I’ve helped him fight through
challenging words, practicing them over and over, determined to beat his disability.

  Jake is the poster boy for self-control.

  Until it comes to me.

  I take his word seriously and create a little space between us, shifting his jacket to the seat next to mine. After a minute, his body relaxes and he pulls me against his side. My heart rate never fully lowers—it never does when I’m around the wayward sons, but I do my best to get it together and we manage to watch the rest of the movie. I offer him my candy and he drinks from my cup and his fingers link in mine as we watch the heroes defeat the alien intruders. In some ways this feels like my first real date. As the clock runs down on the movie I feel sadness wash over me, knowing once the lights turn on, he’ll have to go. Until then, I pretend like everything’s normal. That we’re two teenagers in love, sitting in the theater on a date, instead of people under the gun for our past transgressions.

  18

  Jake

  I’m caught somewhere between needing to spend some personal time in the shower and floating on cloud nine when I get back from the movie. I’d hung out in the Jeep afterwards, waiting for her to get in her grandmother’s car and head home. I felt a little like a stalker but there was no way I’d let her drive up the mountain alone. This girl is way too important to us.

  “How was the movie?” Sierra asks when I pass her bedroom. She’s sitting on top of the bed with her dark hair piled on top of her head, focused on her laptop.

  I lean against the door. “Lots of explosions. Blood. Robots.”

  Her nose wrinkles. “Not my favorite. Did the rest of the team show up?”

  “A few of them. Mostly the seniors.” We’d been tight for a few years. When Claire saw them at the Diner, she’d texted me that this was my chance to meet up with Starlee and have an iron-clad alibi.