“No worries. I’m not offended. Besides as much as I love my little sister, I’ve always wanted a brother. So, I’m officially adopting you.” I blush and bite my lip. Where did that come from? “Okay, that probably sounded weird.”
He shrugs. “What can I say? I just grow on people,” he grins. “But no, I get it too. It’s like I’ve known you my whole life. It is kind of weird but remember we’re lunatics.”
I hold up my palm and cross my fingers. “Lunatic friends. I think we need our own handshake or something.”
“Or we could start our own club?” I elbow him. The shivers have died down and now he’s feeling like my favorite blanket—comfortable and safe. After a fit of giggles, I suck in a breath and draw my lips into a firm line. He makes a face. Here come the giggles again.
“Now enough talking,” I say when I finally gain control “What would you like to do? Watch Netflix? Video Games? A movie? Draw up our club charter?”
“Video games—what do you have?”
“Well, there’s Mario Kart, Fo—?”
“Yes,” He shouts. “I’m so going to kick your butt.”
“We’ll see about that.” I run for the stairs to my room. It’s a narrow staircase and Lucas follows behind. Yet again, that weird nagging thought sticks to my brain. We’re enclosed in this tiny space, so close, but I don’t feel uncomfortable. It feels natural, like he’s been with me all my life. Maybe he was my brother in some other lifetime.
The walls in my room are covered in pictures. Pictures of my family and my friends. There’re spaces once occupied with Hunter photos that I’m planning to fill in with more family pictures. There’s also the posters of my favorite TV shows and movies. Lucas nods approvingly at the Marvel posters. “This is so much fancier than my dorm.”.
“Maybe you need an interior decorator—like me?”
“I may take you up on that.” He eyes drift across the photo “Your little sister is cute,” he says with a wistful note in his voice. My heart aches for him—I can’t imagine ever losing Stella.
“Yeah, she is. She misses me a lot. I’m always glad when I get back home for a visit.”
“Yeah, me too.” He turns from the pictures. “As strange as that sounds. I know I told you there’s nothing there, but it’s still home. And my mom and dad…they really miss me. And it’s where Brianna and I—”
He stops abruptly, that same pain from last night burning in his eyes. “I get it,” I say, although I’m not entirely sure I do. I mean, I miss Hunter, but do I really miss Hunter? Not like the way Lucas is missing this Brianna girl that’s for sure.
“Water under the bridge.” He turns back to the wall, stopping in front of the painting I had created in high school It was of a beach on a lake, with roaring waves and tiny cabins. There are footprints along the sand and a pile of rocks in the distance jutting out into the water. A stream of clouds dance across the sky.
“I painted that in high school My teacher, she told me it reminded her of the north shore on Lake Superior. It’s what brought me here. Like I said, I’ve been dreaming about this lake, this beach.”
“Wow,” he says. “If I didn’t know better…it looks like a beach at home. My friend’s mom, she rents out these cabins every summer. My friend, Adam. We like to hang out and flirt with the tourists—well the young ones.” He laughs. There’s the name again. And there’s the spinning room, the flapping in my heart. Adam, Adam, Adam. Who are you and why do you do this to me? I’ve never met you, yet the sound of your name on Lucas’ lips.
Lucas looks at me funny. I need to think of something. Anything. “You, a flirt? Shocker.”
“Only with the right girls.” He winks.
“I thought I felt like a sister. Does that mean I’m no longer a ‘right girl’?” I bat my eyes at him.
His eyes grow thoughtful. “You are a ‘right girl’ just not like that. You’re like a good friend or my mom or something.”
“Your mom? Really?” I glare and draw my face into the most serious expression I can muster.
“Oh crap,” he says. “No that’s not how I meant it.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Not like you’re old or something. You just—I don’t know. There’s something or someone in me telling me to be nice to you.” His eyes look down and I’m overcome by the familiarity. Like he’s said this to me before. This conversation, this moment. I shake my head. I need to get out of this headspace I keep getting sucked into it.
Lighten the conversation, Sage. So, I ask him, “You mean you’re not nice to the other girls?”
“I’m talking myself into a corner,” he laughs. “Let’s just go play video games. Okay?” There’s something funny in his eyes too. Like he wants to escape the strange weirdness that has descended over us.
“Okay.” I say. “I’m ready to beat you.”
“We’ll see about that.” He grins. “I’m a Mario Kart master. He runs for the controllers sitting on the shelf by my TV.” The heavy awkward feeling dissipates as we laugh. Somehow playing video games with Lucas feels right. Like it’s something I’ve done thousands of times.
Chapter Seventeen
Adam
I am going to kill him. Okay, maybe not kill. But he’s going to have one hell of a black eye when he returns. I stare at the sign, mocking me in the moonlight. This is so not happening.
Why? Why here? This is worse than going back to Roswell. What if she sees me? What if I see her?
I’m going to throttle him.
A light breeze blows through the thin flannel. God, it’s cold tonight. I miss my coat sitting back in Lucas’ truck in Star Harbor. I miss my phone in the pocket of said coat. Zane insisted on not wearing the coat. “You’ll look ridiculous in Roswell walking around in a winter coat.” Liar.
And damn me for forgetting my freaking phone. I turn around in a circle, wondering where the hell I actually am. It’s dark, and I’m not sure exactly what time it is or where to go to warm up. I can’t call Lucas, or an Uber, or even google a map.
Brother or not, I’m going to throttle him.
There’s noise and lights and the distance, so like a ship headed for a lighthouse, I follow the path in that direction, dodging the snow and ice. I shiver again and brush my hands together, hoping the friction will warm them up.
I’m going to throttle him.
After what seems like a mile or two of walking, the majority of it a maze of buildings with locked doors and dark windows, I reach a building blaring with warm light. Thick letters read ‘Student Center’ on top of a row of doors. Several students file in and out of the building easily. No keys or special cards, just opening door handles and voila. Finally, I shiver. There is heat.
I pull open the door, pausing in the entry as a group of girls emerges. I glance at them wondering if Sage is one of them. Their hair is buried beneath knitted hats, but there is a girl with blonde hair about Sage’s height among them. Her hair swings to the side as she reaches for the door handle. My breath sticks in my lungs… but it’s not her.
Inside, there’s a room scattered with couches and chairs circling modern tables of various shapes and colors. Several game tables, and TVs fill the center, and floor to ceiling windows line the walls. It must get bright here in the day.
There’s only a handful of students, several chatting in groups, a handful hiding in corners with open books in front of them. I find a small unoccupied corner and drop onto the thin gray couch, which is more bench than couch, lean back, and close my eyes. My head pounds.
I’m going to throttle him.
“Hey.” A girl’s voice interrupts my thoughts. I open my eyes, squinting to see a waterfall of dark brown hair and wide brown eyes studying me. She sits on the coffee table in front of the couch, her legs crossed, and her arms lean back on the table. She smiles like Zoey and I’m instantly annoyed. “I’m Kara,” she continues. “I come here every night and I swear I’ve never seen you around here. I mean, it is a big campus and all.” She giggles just like Zoey.
I groan.
“I don’t usually come here.” I grunt and close my eyes hoping she’ll get the hint and go away.
“Well welcome, we’re glad to have you. What’s your name and major?” I open my eyes again and frown.
“Steve,” I lie.
“Steve? Hmmm…” She presses a finger to her chin. “My friend went on a date with a guy named Steve. He’s a biology major. What’s your major?”
“Anti-socialization,” I grumble, closing my eyes again.
“Okay, okay. You must be him, because she said he was jerk.” She stands up. “You’re definitely not worth my time.” I squint and watch her walk away. I should be nicer—the old me would have been nicer.
I close my eyes again and sigh, fighting the heaviness descending on my eyes. I don’t want to fall asleep. I don’t want to miss Zane and I don’t want the nightmares. I especially don’t want to wake up to find her here or her not here. Eh, I don’t know what I want, but the thoughts swirling in my mind grow slower and slower, and the sleep finally comes.
Chapter Eighteen
Sage
It’s nearly one in the morning when we finally take a break. Lucas glances down at his phone. “Holy crap,” he says. “I didn’t realize it was this late. I should probably get back home.” He looks up and smiles. “I’m sorry for staying so late. God, don’t tell the guys. They’ll never believe I stayed this late to play video games with some girl.”
“Don’t want to ruin your reputation?” I press my lips together. “So, hmm. What should I tell him?” He raises his eyebrows. “Uh, I don’t think so.” I throw a pillow at him.
“Well …”
“I will tell them you left at ten.” I set down my controller. “With some girl I didn’t recognize. And we are just friends and you were the perfect gentleman.”
“I guess that will have to do.” He frowns. “But they’re still going to think I’m crazy for not locking it up with a beautiful girl like you.”
Somehow his teasing words didn’t make me blush. Instead, they feel like comfort—like chicken noodle soup when I’m sick and macaroni and cheese when I’m homesick. I elbow him. “I thought I was like a mother?”
“Hey, I told you. I didn’t mean it like that,” he grows serious. “Seriously. It was nice hanging out with you. I’ve been feeling a little down about my ex-girlfriend and hanging out with you—it’s been a great distraction.”
“So, what happened with you and what’s her name again?”
“Brianna,” he says sadly. “Brianna. We’ve been boyfriend and girlfriend pretty much since my brother died. She got me through some tough times. I can’t imagine life without her. But when we graduated and went away to college, she wanted us to have the freedom to date others. She said it’s always been us and she felt like how can we know for sure…. I knew—know for sure.”
“I’m sorry, Lucas.” My heart aches for him.
“That boyfriend of yours. He’s a stupid guy,” he says. “Stupid to let you go.”
I sigh. “It wasn’t him. It was all me. I’m the Brianna in this story.” My eyes meet Lucas’ prepared to see the disappointment, but he smiles.
“He’s still stupid.”
“No, no he’s not.” I sit down on my bed. “We were boyfriend and girlfriend for so long, I couldn’t imagine being with somebody else. And like I told you he proposed. Nice dinner, fancy clothes, all the bells and whistles. But when he got down on that knee, it felt wrong. Like this wasn’t where I was supposed to be. He wasn’t the one I was supposed to be with. I’m sure, I must sound crazy.”
“No,” Lucas says, sitting down beside me. “I knew when I kissed you on your porch that you weren’t the one. Brianna thinks I’m not the one. I guess we all just need to find the one who feels we’re their one back.”
“Yeah.” I play with the edge of my comforter. “I hope you’re right. I hope there is someone out there for me.”
“I would bet on it.” Lucas smiles. “There’s somebody out there right now who is looking for you. Maybe he’s even here, on this campus.”
“You’re too kind. And I’ve seen most of the boys on campus. He’s not here.” I lay my hands in map.
“Hey.” Lucas feigns offense. “What about me?”
“We’re friends, remember? You’re the one who told me I’m like your mother.”
“That’s not how—” He dodges the pillow I throw at him. He grabs another pillow from the bed and tosses it in my direction.
“You’re much better at video games than you are at pillow throwing,” I tease.
“Guess I missed out on pillow fights at slumber parties.” He’s raising his eyebrows and smirking. God, is that face so familiar.
“There were no pillow fights at slumber parties—at least the ones I went to.” I cross my arms and bite down on my lips to keep from smiling.
“Bummer. Brianna said they did” His face looks lost. “I always teased her to take pictures because I really wanted to see a slumber party pillow fight. So, one night she did, only all the pictures were covered up the pillows…” He laughed; his face deep in the memory. “I know it sounds pathetic, but as much as I flirt. As much as I try, it’s always been her. It will always be her. No matter what she decides. You’re not the first girl I’ve tried dating since her. Matt’s trying to set me up all the time, but I just can’t get over her.”
“It’s not pathetic. It’s sweet. I wish some guy felt like that about me.” I think of Hunter. As much as my refusal hurt him, I know it won’t be long before he moves on. He probably already has. Maybe him and Rachel are out there, together at this very moment.
I sigh, a wave of jealousy washing through me. Brianna is a very lucky girl.
“I really need to go,” he says. “I’ve got a big test on Monday that I actually should study for.” He presses a finger to his lips. “But thank you for agreeing to keep my reputation intact. Maybe we could get together again this week?”
“Definitely,” I say. “I’m happy to be your fake girlfriend or secret affair or mother. Whatever you want to call me.”
“Mother, definitely.” I elbow him and roll my eyes. He’s almost to the steps when he stops abruptly. “Oh yeah, I was going to show you something.” He pulls out his phone and opens it up. He swipes through several pictures. “I know it’s on here somewhere. Ah…yeah…there.” He holds up the phone. “The beach. Looks a lot like the one you painted. Doesn’t it?
My heart slams into my chest.
It is the beach. The one from my dreams.
* * *
I was up half the night reading about Star Harbor. Not that there was a lot to read. The town is tiny—much smaller than even the UMD campus. It’s on the south side of Lake Superior, about three hours from Duluth and about an hour across the border of Upper Michigan. There’s a diner and a pizza place and what looks like possibly a bank. Two bars—only one pictured. Most of the information is about the surrounding areas and the things to do in the summer months. I stared at as many pictures as I could find, looking for something—anything, that explained my deep connection to this place.
I spent the most time on the website for Stella’s Star Harbor Cabins. It’s the place Lucas had told me about—the place I painted. Stella—it’s funny. How many people in the world are named Stella? Is it a coincidence, that I would dream about her beach? Or is there something more? I try to reason with myself. Maybe I accidentally stumbled on pictures of the place somewhere or somehow as a kid…maybe. I sigh in frustration and drop my head into my hands. My eyes are so heavy, and this search is going nowhere.
I finally crawl into my bed, letting the sleep wash over me.
And the water.
The water washes over my feet. I look up. It’s the beach again and there he is, the boy with the bluest eyes and the darkest hair. His curls dance in the sunlight and his dimple plays on his face as he grins. I’m running for him, splashing along the shore, the water spraying up my legs. He’s faster than me and every so of
ten turns around to taunt me. This just makes me laugh even more. I run harder, nearly slipping in the wet sand until arms grab me from behind and lift me. I kick my legs, but the arms squeeze even tighter.
“Lucas,” I scream. “Put me down.”
His chest shakes with laughter, but he puts me down. His hair matches the sand and his grin is as warm as the sunshine, but he’s not the one I want to chase. It’s the boy with the blue eyes who makes my chest flutter. It’s him I wish was grabbing me.
“Come on you two,” The other boy calls out. “I’ll race you to our beach. Last one there is getting dunked in the lake.” He begins to run, and I struggle to catch up. The boys are so much taller this summer and can run so much faster than me.
The boy with the blue eyes and smirks secretively at me, before sticking out a leg, sending the other boy sliding into the sand.
I wave as I pass by and give the blue-eyed boy a thumbs up. “Well,” he calls after me. “I couldn’t let him win, now could I?”
I run, feeling the boys just steps behind me. When I reach the end of the beach, strong arms lift me up onto the pile of rocks. I know it leads to a smaller beach, hidden from the beach the guests use. I look back at the boy with the blue eyes, who’s arms haven’t quite let go of me. “Why are you letting me win?”
“Because I know how much being under the water scares you.” His words make my heart pound like the drums at a rock concert. Hard, fast, loud.
Then the racing heartbeat slows and the beach fades and the dream fades.
I sit up in bed, my eyes wet. A handful of tears trail down my cheeks.
And I don’t understand. The other boy was Lucas in my dream—the Lucas. He was younger, but it was definitely him. Why am I dreaming about Lucas on the beach? Was it because we just met? Was it something more? Is he the other boy from my dream?
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