Promise Me Nothing (Hermosa Beach Book 1)

by Jillian Liota

  “Girl, the fact you’ve been there for two whole weeks and you haven’t called your best friend, is absolutely ridiculous,” are the words that blast at me as soon as I put the phone to my ear.

  “Oh my gosh it is so good to hear your voice,” I say, stepping back out onto the patio and sinking into one of the comfortable loungers, relishing in the familiarity and warmth of the voice of my friend.

  Sienna and I have known each other since we were munchkins. We went to the same elementary school and lived next door to each other in the same apartment complex until the year my parents died. She always made sure to keep inviting me to things even though my new foster home at the time was on the other side of Phoenix and it was hard to find a way to get there.

  Joshua was helpful for a few years in keeping my relationship with Sienna alive. He was older, had a car, and was able to take the two of us out for ice cream or movies on weekends or after school.

  But when he passed, it was just our own resolve. Our own desire not to see our friendship fail just because of circumstance. I used to ride the bus for an hour in junior high to go to her house, never inviting her over to see the places I was bouncing between.

  For lots of reasons.

  When I finally left the system, and we both graduated high school, it was a lot easier to keep the connection going. But I’ve always been thankful that she cared about me and loved me even when things were working against us.

  “So, how’s Richville?” she asks.

  I roll my eyes, but she can’t see me. “It’s not Richville.”

  “Don’t give me that,” she says. “I want the full low down on everything. Everyone. All of it. Including the cars and the clothes and everyone’s hotness level.”

  I laugh. “Okay, okay. I guess… it’s just different than I thought it would be.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, for one thing, Lucas is really nice.”

  There’s a pause. “How is that different than you expected? I thought you guys talked on the phone a few times before heading out there.”

  “Yeah well, I’m just surprised he ended up being exactly who he said he would be. The money and the house and the beach is whatever. I’m just glad he’s a nice guy.” Though I wish he was around more, even though I don’t say that to Sienna.

  “Girl, I wanna hear about the rich people. Please!”

  I giggle. “When we pulled up to his house, I about fell through the floor of his fancy ass truck, because it is this crazy mansion right on the water.”

  “I knew it!” she cries out. “I knew he was going to live in a Real Housewives mansion.”

  I smile at her reaction. “I’ve met a bunch of his friends so far, and they’re all just really beautiful. Like they belong in magazines. Which I guess I can understand if you spend all of your time at the beach.”

  “Right?” Sienna sighs. “Ugh, you’re gonna be living some kind of fancy rich bitch dream this summer, aren’t you? And I’m just gonna be stuck in boring ass Phoenix working at the sunglass kiosk and wishing I could visit.”

  “I’m sure you’d be welcome if you wanted to come out,” I say, though I instantly regret it. As much as I love Sienna, I also know that I definitely should have talked to Lucas about it first.

  “Yeah, I can’t afford that, lady, but thanks anyway.”

  I let out a quiet but slightly relieved sigh. Bullet dodged.

  “So have you met his mom yet?”

  “No. Lucas said I probably wouldn’t even meet her this summer since she’s a workaholic and mostly stays at her boyfriend’s place near her office. But there’s a little part of me that’s morbidly curious.”

  “Like you wanna see the woman that your dad had an affair with, but at the same time you want to light her on fire?”

  “Yes!” I say, laughing slightly. “Exactly that.”

  “I know this is gonna be hard to hear, but just make sure you don’t blame someone else for what your dad did, Hannah. He was an adult. And it doesn’t matter what the circumstances are. He had an affair. You can’t blame Lucas’ mom.” She pauses and I let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, I take that back. The only circumstance that would make it okay is if your parents were in an open relationship or were swingers.”

  “Oh my gosh!” I shout into the phone. “Oh my god, Sienna, that is so disgusting. Like, I can’t even think about that.” I slap my hands over my eyes, as if that will cleanse my mind of the sudden image of my parents agreeing to sleep with other people.

  “Hey girl, don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it.”

  I sit up straight. “Excuse me?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “What did you just say?”

  Sienna dives into a story about her boyfriend Jerome and a sex party they went to a few weeks before I left town. I’m a little blown away, since Sienna hasn’t ever struck me as a particularly kinky type. But I guess you can think you know someone as well as possible and they can still surprise you.

  We talk for a while longer about life in Phoenix, about her mom’s new job. We talk about my own job at Bennie’s and she gives me suggestions on ways to make money this summer with my mediocre photography skills, something I hadn’t even considered.

  “Alright, sexy lady. I have to head over to Jerome’s. He just got off work and mama is in desperate need of something thick between her legs.”

  I burst into laughter, that same squeamish discomfort running through me at the mention of sex.

  Of the two of us, Sienna was always the one more comfortable talking about sex and sexuality. Like I told Lucas the other night, it just wasn’t something that was discussed in the houses I lived in. So now I’m left with this kind of awkward bumbling and lack of certainty, just giggling at what other people say.

  “Have fun tonight,” she says. “Get out and take some photos of that gorgeous beach, girl. And then send them my way!”

  We say goodbye and then I hang up the phone, resting my head back against the cushion on the lounger.

  She might have been joking, but Sienna hit on something real. Something I’ve already had on my mind once or twice. It just goes to show how close we are that she was able to pick up on it without me even saying anything to her.

  Lucas lives in this grandiose house all by himself. And while I’m sure that’s great for partying and having freedom, it seems like it would also be really easy to struggle with feeling lonely.

  I lived for eight years in small houses packed with people, oftentimes sharing bedrooms with multiple bunk beds and three or four other young girls. Before that, we had a tiny two-bedroom apartment as a family and Joshua and I shared a bedroom even though I was so much younger than him.

  So a large empty house might sound great in theory. But I’ve only been here two weeks, and sitting here by myself, watching the sun as it begins to dip in the sky… I can feel that sense of loneliness begin to creep in at the edges. Have been feeling it moving towards me as I spend the majority of my free time on my own.

  Forcing myself not to focus on that feeling, I hop up and head inside, taking the stairs two at a time all the way up to the top floor, down the hall to my room. I dig into my duffle bag and pull out my camera.

  It isn’t particularly nice. I got it for sale at a pawnshop and then took it to the photography teacher at my high school to ask for help with repairing it. It’s pretty old, definitely not digital, and the F-stop sticks and decides not to work of its own will.

  But I’ve been able to figure out how to take pretty good photos with it anyway. The hardest part about having an older camera like this is that I have to use film, which is expensive and doesn’t provide me with the instant results I want in order to teach myself to be better.

  And if I want to try and grow my amateur photography into any type of business in the future, I’ll have to get better. I mean, who wants to hire a photographer with a broken camera?

  I wander out onto the patio, turning my lens down the length of The Strand to snag photos of three guy
s skateboarding while holding surfboards.

  I capture a big group of birds rising as a flock into the air to escape a toddler on the sand racing towards them.

  A pair of friends playing volleyball.

  Then I head further out into the sand, closer to the water, the end-of-day sand feeling cool on my feet.

  I tilt my camera up to the lifeguard tower, snapping a shot of a leggy blonde in red shorts and a white sweatshirt sitting on a chair and looking out at the water.

  Taking the photos buoys my spirits a bit, and I spend the next while trying to capture the slice of beach directly in front of Lucas’ house.

  Finally, as the sun dips lower in the sky, the last of the beach goers begin to pack up their belongings, and I head back to the patio and plop down on one of the loungers.

  A part of me wants to keep taking pictures to see if I can get a good shot of the sun. But another part of me knows I should take a moment to sit and enjoy it. Even if I do have to enjoy it alone.

  The photography would only be so distracting. Eventually I’d feel this loneliness again anyways. Might as well learn to get past it instead of avoiding it by hiding behind a lens.

  I wonder if I made a mistake coming here all by myself. If trying to meet Lucas should have been done on different terms. Maybe coming out for a few weekends this summer instead of moving.

  Because it feels like I might have made a mistake. No one really cares about me, how I’m doing, whether I’ve been happy or sad. My whole life has basically been like that, so it shouldn’t be that hard to deal with.

  But it is.

  I guess that’s what happens when you build up expectations that aren’t met.

  The only thing I can do is remind myself of the people who do love me.

  Sienna, who I just talked to.

  And Melanie and Lissy, who I haven’t connected with since after her first message letting me know she and Lis made it to New Mexico safely a few weeks ago.

  Thinking about them makes me smile, and I pull out my phone to send off a text.

  Me: Hey Melanie. I miss you. I hope you and Lissy are settling in at your mom’s place. Give her a hug and a kiss from me. Love you. Call me soon.

  And then I put my phone down, intent on watching the sun as it sets in the distance.

  A noise behind me has me looking back over my shoulder, a bit startled. But when I see it’s just Lucas coming down the stairs, I let out a relieved breath.

  “Hey,” I say as he steps out onto the patio, surprised to see him since he told me earlier that he and Otto were going out tonight. “I thought you were going out with your friend.”

  He nods his head and gives me a soft smile before he steps over and sits down on the lounger next to mine. “That was the plan. But then I realized I had something more important I wanted to do.”

  “Oh. What’s that?”

  “Spend time with my sister.”

  The surprise of his statement slams into my chest, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

  I turn away and look back at the sun, feeling like looking right at it will give me an excuse as to why my eyes are starting to burn.

  Maybe it’s because I’m already emotional. Maybe it’s because I’d just been thinking about being lonely, or that coming here might have been a mistake. Or maybe it’s just because hearing someone tell me that I’m a priority is something I’ve needed to hear for so, so, so damn long.

  Regardless, it’s a welcome feeling.

  “Is that okay?” he asks, and I can hear a hint of hesitancy in his voice.

  As if I might fucking turn him away. I almost laugh at the idea. I turn back to look up at him and give him a small grin. “That’s more than okay. That sounds great.”

  Lucas’ smile returns, and then he crosses his legs as he stretches them out on the lounger next to mine.

  And then, on a quiet and cool evening, my brother and I watch a sunset together.

  That evening, Lucas and I do what you do when you try to get to know someone. We order pizza and watch Planet Earth.

  It’s amazing what you can learn about someone based on how they watch TV. Especially when you choose to watch something as phenomenal and sometimes savage as nature shows.

  In between joking with each other and stuffing our faces, as well as making awkward commentary about birds doing mating dances, we actually talk.

  When we first started talking to each other a few months ago, we sent a few emails back and forth, which eventually graduated to phone calls. But it was very surface level. Mostly just to make sure he wasn’t some crazy person before I decided to meet him.

  We’d talked about his mom, his girlfriend, his house. I’d told him a little bit about school and photography, and we barely veered into a conversation about dad. But we didn’t hit anything below the surface.

  It feels like, now, we’re starting to dip below that. Maybe not super far below. But enough to know that we’re trying to get deeper.

  He asks me about what school was like at the community college I went to, about photography and how I got into it. He asks a few questions about Joshua, what he was like. On a different day, I might have been more uncomfortable talking about my dead brother with my new and alive half-brother. But it feels normal.

  Especially when I think about the fact that Lucas and Joshua would have been brothers, too.

  So I tell him about my brother. About Joshua being a really funny guy, a hard worker, an amazing runner. And it feels good, relishing in the positive memories about a brother that I loved so much.

  Love so much.

  Because I will always love him. And always miss him.

  I talk to him about balancing work and babysitting and school. I tell him about Melanie and Lissy, and about Sienna.

  And then he asks me about my parents. About my dad.

  Our dad.

  I feel a little lost for words when we finally hit that topic. So I just go for honesty.

  “I don’t really know how to talk about him with you,” I say, snuggling deeper into the couch cushions and pulling my knees up to wrap my arms around them. “Dad was… he was this superhero in my mind. Because I only knew him as a kid. By the time I found out about…” I wave in Lucas’ general direction, “everything, he had already been given sainthood. He was this great dad who loved us and took us to the park and built crafts with us and taught us to ride bikes.” I lift a shoulder. “That’s the man I knew.”

  Then I ask the hard question. The one I don’t want to ask, but that I have to, just to satisfy the morbid curiosity that I can’t seem to get rid of. “What did you know about him?”

  He clears his throat and kind of looks off to the side. “Well, Henry was always the guy who came to visit me once a year.” He looks back at me. “Every summer, he’d show up for a few weeks. Spend some time with me, with my mom.”

  My stomach pulls uncomfortably, but I don’t ask him to stop.

  “He did a lot of the things he did for you and Joshua. Taught me to ride a bike. Took me out to play at parks.” He sighs. “And he taught me to surf. One of the few things I learned from my mom was that Henry was a great surfer.”

  “Really?” I ask, unable to help myself.

  He nods. “Yeah. Is that not something he ever mentioned to you?”

  I shake my head. “No. I mean, I didn’t know he’d ever even seen the ocean, let alone that he could surf it.”

  There’s a pause.

  “So I’m assuming he never talked to you guys about the trips to the beach then? I thought maybe you guys all did a vacation together out here or something.”

  I shake my head. “Definitely not. I’ve never been to the beach before coming here this summer.”

  Lucas nods slowly, his eyes watching me.

  “Do you know if…” I stop. “Do you know if he loved your mom?”

  I jump a little at Lucas’ laugh. “Definitely not. The thing with my mom was a brief affair, according to her. There was no love involved. Ever.”

/>   I nod, feeling oddly relieved. I know now that my parents didn’t have a perfect relationship. But I don’t know how I would feel if I were to find out he was in love with someone else while he was married. I guess it’s easier to believe he was a weak-willed man who let his baser instincts get the best of him.

  “Do you know why the affair started?” I ask. “Like… what made him want to cheat on his wife?”

  Lucas shakes his head. “I don’t have that answer, Hannah. I’m sorry. I wish I did. But I don’t know that having that information would make it any easier.”

  My eyes well up a little bit. “We never had a lot of money, you know? We had periods of time when things weren’t perfect. But both of them were amazing parents, even through all the hard stuff.” I wipe at my eyes. “And now, knowing what I do, I don’t really know how I feel about him anymore.”

  I stop talking, feeling the well of emotion surging up in my chest. But before I can try to say anything else, Lucas begins to talk.

  “I think the important thing to remember,” he says, “is that you can have memories of your dad that are accurate, even if he was a different person to someone else.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the dad you knew taught you to ride bikes. He may not have had a lot of money, but it sounds like he was loving and affectionate and kind. Just because he wasn’t faithful to your mom…”

  I wince, hating how that sounds.

  “… just because he was imperfect, doesn’t mean he loved you any less than what you remember. And it doesn’t invalidate the memories you have.”

  My gratitude towards Lucas’ perspective feels overwhelming. It’s the first time since I found out about what happened that I feel like it’s okay for me to feel confused. That it’s okay for me to be conflicted about my emotions and try to reconcile my memories with the truth.

  “Thank you for saying that. I guess I just feel like I’m betraying him or something. Like learning new things about him might change how I see him. But I also know that you are my only remaining family. And this, with you, needs to be protected and nurtured, too. I can’t do that if I’m unwilling to accept these other pieces of who my dad was, as broken as those pieces may be.”