He chuckled and the sound did something to me.
“Go home, Remi. It’s okay. You don’t have to do everything yourself.” That comment made me want to punch him, but I was suddenly so damn tired.
“Fine,” I said, grabbing my bag. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Remington,” he said and I could hear the smirk in his voice even if I couldn’t see it.
Five
Brooks
It was Falyn’s day to help me at the store, so I went ahead into the office to work on some paperwork and other little annoyances so my mom didn’t have to do them. Falyn came back after only ten minutes of working. “Your future wife is here.”
“Shut up,” I said, shoving past her. “And don’t say that too loud. I’m trying to get her to not hate me right now.” Falyn just smirked and flipped her hair over her shoulder, then skipped back to the register.
Remi was in the front of the store, arranging her display. I’d already set everything out last night but I guess she didn’t like how I’d done it. Fair enough. It was her stuff.
“Hey,” I said and she looked up.
“Hey. You didn’t have to put them all out. I could have done that.” I just shrugged.
She fiddled with a few bags and then sighed.
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you on Wednesday night?” I wanted to see her sooner.
“Do you want to go get breakfast with me?” That wasn’t what I meant to say. The words fell out of my mouth, but once they were out, I couldn’t take them back.
“What?” I could hear Falyn snickering behind me. I wanted to glare at her. It wasn’t my fault she had better game than I did.
“Do you want to go get some breakfast? Unless you’re busy.” I sounded like an absolute moron. Like I’d never asked a girl out to eat before. I had. Dozens of times, but for some reason Remi had me tongue-tied.
“Oh, um. I guess?” She didn’t sound sure.
“It’s kind of a yes or no question,” I said and she glared.
“Fine. Yes, I will get breakfast with you, Brooks Benson.” I hadn’t anticipated her saying yes. So this was happening. Okay, then.
“Lyn, can you watch the store?” I asked turning around.
“Aye, aye captain,” she said, saluting me and winking. “You kids have fun,” she added in a sing-song tone.
I flashed my middle finger behind my back as I followed Remi out of the store.
“So, where do you want to go?” she asked, fiddling with her keys.
“Brenda’s. Best blueberry pancakes you’ll ever have,” I said, naming a little diner just outside of Hope Harbor in the next town over. It had only opened a few months ago, so chances were that Remi hadn’t eaten there yet.
“I can drive,” I said, pointing to my truck.
For a second she looked like she was going to bolt, but then pulled her sunglasses out of her bag, put them on and said, “Okay.”
****
The diner was tiny, so Remi and I ended up crammed at a small corner table. Her knee kept brushing mine. I didn’t mind.
She ordered tea and I got the same and then I ordered the blueberry pancakes with bacon and hash browns. She paused for a second before she ordered the same thing. Ha.
“I’m surprised you trusted me about the pancakes,” I said as she stared down at the scarred table.
“I don’t trust you. I just really wanted blueberry pancakes,” she said, her eyebrow lifting, as if challenging me to argue with her.
“Fair enough,” I said and we lapsed into silence again.
I decided it was time to bite the bullet.
“So, Remington, what brings you back to town?” Her mouth became a hard line and for a second I thought she was going to get up from the table, tell me to go fuck myself, and leave. But then she sighed and looked up.
“Shit happens,” she said, lifting one shoulder. “I got a degree in psychology but couldn’t find a job I wanted that would pay enough to cover my loans, so then I started working like three jobs and lost them; and then I had to move out of my apartment and a whole bunch of other stuff happened and here I am. Broke as fuck and living with my parents.” She didn’t seem to care if anyone overheard her swearing and I kinda liked that.
“That sucks,” I said, because it did.
“Yup. And it’s mostly my own fault. Poor life decisions and a few mistakes and there you go.” Our waitress arrived with our tea. Remi sipped at hers, winced and then set the cup down again.
“And now it’s my turn to ask what brought you back. Even though I already know.” Of course she knew. Everyone did.
“I was on my own and in miserable in my master’s program when my mom broke her back and my dad had a heart attack. Someone had to be here to take care of things, so I came home. There was no one else to do it.” I didn’t want to make myself sound like some hero, because I wasn’t. I just did what needed to be done at the time.
“That’s nice. That you did that for your family. Mine drives me up a wall.” She smiled just a little and let out this breathless laugh and it was so cute that I really wanted to lean over and kiss her. Which would be wildly inappropriate. I definitely wasn’t going to try it.
“Mine does too, but you gotta do what you gotta do, right?” This was the first time we’d had a semi-normal conversation and so far it was going pretty well. I just hoped I didn’t fuck it up. I started talking about what it was like to go from my own apartment to being back in the Benson house and the words just started spilling out of me. The whole time Remi was there. Listening. Our pancakes arrived and she put ketchup on her bacon and I made fun of her for it and then she stole a piece off my plate and the next thing I knew we were laughing together.
It was... easy. So easy.
I didn’t want to stop an examine how easy it was and risk things going back to the way they’d been when we’d first seen each other again.
We ended up talking about people from high school and I gave her some updates on some of the people she’d lost touch with.
“Oh, that bitch. She hated me and the feeling was mutual,” she said about one girl I told her was now on her second kid and living with a guy twice her age.
“God, Remi, tell me how you really feel,” I said. She put her fork down.
“You don’t even know, Brooks. You don’t even know. Guys are cruel to your face. Or they just punch you or something. Girls are different. They’re sneaky and they do stuff behind your back. You have a sister, don’t you know this?” I sort of gaped at her. I didn’t really know what she was talking about.
“Were there a lot of people who were mean to you in high school?” I asked, knowing I was getting close to finding out why she’d been so against me initially.
“Yeah, Brooks, there were,” she said, as if it was something obvious. Now I felt like an asshole AND an idiot. Should have kept my mouth shut and not asked.
“I’m sorry,” I said, really meaning it.
“Yeah, well, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on and shit,” she said, viciously cutting into her pancakes.
“You don’t have to. Move on. If people were shitty to you, you’re allowed to be mad about it still,” I said and she looked up at me.
“Oh, thanks Brooks, I really needed your approval. Thank you SO much for telling me it’s okay to be mad.” Well, shit. I’d definitely fucked this up.
“That’s not what I meant. And I’m sorry. I really am. And if there’s anything that I did in high school, I’m sorry for that too.” She stabbed a bit of pancake on her fork and swirled it around in a puddle of syrup. She didn’t say anything for a long time.
“It’s hard. Being back here. Harder than I thought it would be. All these things that I’ve shoved aside keep coming back up and I wish I didn’t have to remember them. I wish I could just wipe my mind and start over sometimes.” She didn’t say anything about what I may or may not have done.
Realizing it might come back to bite me, I reached across the table and squeezed he
r hand where it rested next to her plate. Her eyes flicked up at me, but she didn’t tell me to stop. I pulled back.
“You weren’t one of the worst ones. But you hung out with them and stood there when they said things. And you dated some of those girls. I just... all I wanted was for someone to say ‘stop’ and no one did.” She shrugged sadly.
This girl was ripping my heart out. I wanted to go back in time and put on a cape and rescue her. I also wanted to punch my teenage-self right in the face for not doing something when I had the chance.
“I know this doesn’t make a difference, but I was a complete idiot back then. Avery was perfect and the oldest and I wasn’t like him. I sucked at sports and I didn’t get as good grades and all I wanted to do was read graphic novels and draw in my notebook or paint. My parents are amazing and they always supported me, but I still thought that I had to be like him. So most of my efforts at fitting in were to try and emulate him. Everyone loved him. Me, not so much.”
She ate the last bite of pancake from her plate.
“I think a lot of us were idiots in high school. But some people learn.” She looked up at me and I could tell she was silently asking me if I was one of those people.
“I’m not trying to be my brother anymore. He’s kind of an asshole, so...” She snorted.
“Yeah, he always seemed TOO perfect, you know? Like he was wound too tight.” That was the most accurate statement anyone had ever made about Avery Benson. He was obsessed with appearance and making people think he was more than what he came from. Like having parents who owned a variety store wasn’t good enough for him. I bet if he could, he’d tell people his parents were different. Wouldn’t surprise me at all. But that was Avery, Mr. Polished Presentation.
“Well, I don’t care what people think anymore. It’s never gotten me anywhere, so why bother?” She raised one eyebrow and munched on her last piece of bacon.
“Precisely. But it’s a lot easier to do that in New York than in a small town where everyone’s known you since you were born.” I nodded. I knew exactly what she meant.
“Well, I think who you are is perfect,” I said and then realized how it sounded. She snorted.
“You’ve only known me for about five minutes. Just wait. You’ll change your tune.” I didn’t think so. Everything I’d seen of her since she came back was just making me like her more and more. It was getting to be a little too much to handle, actually. I just wanted to run my fingers through her purple hair, or make her laugh or see her smile. Or watch her frost cupcakes for hours, her forehead creased in concentration.
We finished our breakfast and I paid the check while she protested.
“This isn’t a date, you know,” she said.
“I know. I didn’t think it was. A friend can’t treat a friend to breakfast?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Are we friends?”
“I mean, I’d like to be. If that’s okay with you. If not, that’s okay too. Although I really could use a friend, Remi.” I hated how desperate I sounded, but I was serious. Yes, she was attractive, but above that, I just liked being around her. Even if she was prickly and snapped at me and challenged me. She was interesting and bright and I needed that. Needed someone like her to shake things up.
“Maybe,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”
“Fair enough.”
Remi
He wanted to be my friend, huh? I hadn’t had a lot of guy friends before, and lately I’d pretty much stopped having friends altogether. I was too busy trying to survive and keep my life from falling apart to hang out with anyone or have lunch dates. Eventually, people stopped calling and texting and inviting me to things, and I was alone, which I didn’t really mind. It was easy and I was used to it. But Brooks was... I didn’t know how to classify him. He hadn’t totally convinced me he’d changed from the douchey guy he’d been in high school, but he’d also piqued my curiosity enough that I was willing to give him a chance.
Things were a little awkward as we left the diner.
He opened the door of his truck for me.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked.
“Where?” If he said “my bedroom” I was out.
“There are some nice trails not too far from here. Take a walk with me. Burn off the bacon.” Was he calling me fat? He seemed to realize his mistake before I could even say anything.
“Not that you need to. Seriously, Remi. I’m not going out of my way to piss you off. Just take a walk with me. Come on.” I sighed. It was that or go back home and read on the porch. Alone. Maybe a walk would do me good.
“Okay, sure.” He smiled for a second and that dimple popped in his cheek. A weaker woman than I might have swooned. I didn’t. I wasn’t that easily swayed. Not at all. Not even a little bit.
****
It had been a smart move to wear my worn Chucks instead of the cute little strappy sandals I’d gotten just before I left New York. They probably would have gotten shredded walking through the woods.
Brooks parked the truck right at the head of a little nature trail. I’d never been one for the outdoors, so I hadn’t been here before. He hopped out of the truck and I realized that I should have brought a hat or something. Brooks had a Red Sox cap sitting on his dashboard and I grabbed it, sliding it onto my head. He gave me a weird look.
“What? Am I not allowed to wear your precious hat?” He coughed and slowly shook his head.
“No, you definitely are. Anytime you want. Keep it.” He was looking at me again like he wanted to take my clothes off. Wearing his hat, huh? I was actually starting to enjoy teasing him. So I just grinned and headed toward the trail.
“Jesus,” I heard him mutter under his breath.
****
His legs were longer than mine, but he shortened his pace and didn’t make me strain to keep up with him.
“So, you have a degree in psychology,” he said. “Do you just go around diagnosing people?” I rolled my eyes, which he couldn’t see from behind my sunglasses.
“No. I wanted to work with kids, but it didn’t really work out. So now I’m another millennial with a college degree that I’m not using, and I will be paying for it until I’m dead and then probably after.” He chuckled.
“Tell me about it. I have a degree in business and was well into my master’s when I realized that I absolutely hated it. But then shit happened, so I guess it worked out the way it was supposed to.”
“Look at us, a pair of failures,” I said, holding my hand up for a high five. He slapped mine gently and didn’t remove it right away. I started blushing and his hand fell away.
“I don’t think you’re a failure. Not at all. You just didn’t succeed at one thing. You’re an amazing baker. And you survived living in New York and didn’t get run over by a cab. And you rock purple hair.” I laughed and reached down to pluck a flower.
“You’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel with those compliments, Brooks. But I appreciate it. If you asked my mother, I’ve failed at everything.” I frowned, wishing I hadn’t brought her up.
“What did she want you to do?” Now he was leaning down and plucking flowers, gathering them in one hand. I didn’t know what I was going to do if he presented me with the bouquet.
“Ugh, get married. Have babies. Give her grandchildren. Be a lady. Whatever that is. Be a PTA and soccer mom. Drive a minivan and shit. You know, the very traditional idea. But I’ve never been really traditional.” I blew a strand of purple hair out of my eyes.
“Yeah, I can’t really see you being like that. I mean, even if you had kids, you wouldn’t be like that. You’d be the cool mom.” Now that made me laugh.
“I have no idea what that means. I’m definitely not ready for kids now, at any rate. Not for a while. A long while. I have shit to do first.” I didn’t want to be one of those people who resented their kids for taking away their youth. I wanted to have awesome stories to tell my kids about all the things I’d done before they were born. I was still r
estless. Settling down wasn’t what I wanted yet.
I wasn’t going to tell Brooks that Mom had him pegged as her future son-in-law. No, I didn’t want him to know anything about that.
“My mom just told me she wants me to be happy and I don’t even know what that looks like. How fucked up is that?” he said and I could hear the bitterness in his tone. Clearly, it was something he’d thought about a lot.
“I don’t think a lot of people in this world know what happy looks like. I mean, how many truly happy people do you know? And I think it’s also relative. Plus, no one is happy all the time. That’s not possible.” He nodded and we walked a little further. It was cool here, under the trees. The noise from the road had faded away and it was just the two of us. If someone had told me a month ago that I’d be walking in the woods with Brooks Benson I would have laughed until I couldn’t breathe. Yet, here I was.
“So what do you do with yourself when you’re not making pizzas and pestering me?” I asked. I don’t know why I asked.
“Oh, the usual.”
I waved my hand for him to elaborate.
“Maybe I’ll show you sometime.” I gave him a look.
“Oh my God, you have a low opinion of me, don’t you? It’s not bad or creepy or weird, okay?” I wasn’t sure if I trusted him on that, but I was definitely curious.
“And you bake, but what else?” he asked. Dammit. I kept forgetting he could turn around and ask me stuff too.
“Not much. Read, I guess.”
“What kind of books?” I thought about lying, but fuck that.
“Mostly romance. Some young adult. Sci-fi. Pretty much anything that has a good story.” He nodded and didn’t make any editorial comments. I was a little surprised. A lot of people gave me looks of derision when I said I read romance. What was wrong with romance? Fuckers.
“What was the last book you read?” He asked and I launched into a summary of the last YA I’d read and loved. He listened to me ramble and didn’t stop me or interrupt me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually listened to me, which was pretty sad when I thought about it. When had I become such a loner? I mean, I’d always tended toward being alone, but I’d really taken it to a whole other level in the past two years. Probably wasn’t healthy, my psychology brain told me.
Brooks Page 4