by Seven Steps
This night may have started out feeling magical, but it was shaping up to be more like a curse as I sat sandwiched between Rose and her best friend Kimberly Heights.
Kim flipped her long, chocolate hair over her shoulder. She was classically beautiful. Little button nose, big eyes, round face, and always perfect hair. She wanted to be a celebrity hairstylist when she grew up, which meant she could do two things very well. Style hair and gossip.
“Dudley Trent,” Kim said.
Rose’s eyes went wide, and she slammed her hands on the table. “No way! You kissed Dudley Trent?”
“Last night on my door step.”
“Was he a good kisser?”
“Terrible. He tasted like steak sauce and Dr. Pepper.”
Rose made a barfing sound.
I did too, but for different reasons. This was literally the worst kind of conversation. If Dudley Trent heard Kim’s terrible review of his kissing prowess, he’d probably go into hiding for the rest of his life. I know I would.
But it did raise an interesting question. Was all kissing that bad? My books always described boys tasting like mint or cinnamon gum or man. But what happened if you kissed a boy after dinner? Was everyone expected to brush their teeth after dinner when they went on dates? Maybe it was only a guy thing? I inwardly groaned. I hated these conversations. Not only were they uncomfortable, but they were also so foreign. I had zero experience with boys, so hearing my sister and her friend talk about them made me feel confused, frustrated, and like a complete loser. They might as well have been discussing string theory or quantum mechanics or why I’m a size medium in Forever 21 but a small in Walmart.
“So, what did you do after he kissed you?” Rose asked.
Kimberly flippantly waved her hand over her head.
“I told him I had to finish my calculus homework and ran into the house. I haven’t returned his calls all day.”
Rose shook her head. “Way to be mature about it, Kim.” Then she nudged me with a smile. “What a waste of a cute face and hot bod, right, Lil?”
I smiled shyly and sipped my coke. “Yeah. Sure.”
Though I appreciated my sister’s efforts to include me in the conversation, it didn’t do much to change the terrible time I was having.
Kim dunked her straw in her lemon water. “Speaking of boys, I have some juicy news for you too, Lily.”
I frowned. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“What news could you have for me?” I asked.
“Oh, just the best news ever.” Kim took a long sip of her water, drawing out the moment.
What boy news could Kim have for me? I didn’t even interact with boys except when it was school related. Sure, I had crushes, but they never noticed me back.
Unless, maybe one did? My stomach tied in knots. What if a boy did like me? What if it was Bart West? No, that was impossible. Bart was the quarterback of my school’s football team. He was practically dripping in girls. He would never notice someone like me. Maybe it was Adam Banks. He worked at the school newspaper with my sister. Adam was cute, even though my sister did call him King Jerk. Could it be him? Or maybe it was Colton Black. Colton had been suspended for pulling the school fire alarm on multiple occasions and for stealing the principal’s car and taking it on a joy ride down to Jones Beach. Colton was bad boy hot. All dark hair and black clothes and biker boots. Maybe Colton had said something?
Or maybe it was something else.
Kim gazed at me like I was a worm squirming on a hook, and I had a feeling I was about to be thrown in the deep end of the pond.
“Would you spill it already?” Rose said. “My poor heart can’t take the suspense.”
“I was getting to it.”
She took another long pull of water—I’m sure for extra dramatic effect—then set it down and turned her full attention to me.
“I have it on good authority that Beckett Hayes is back in town.”
My entire body went still.
“Beckett Hayes?” I whispered.
Kim nodded with a Cheshire cat grin. “Amber Bishop spotted him moving boxes back into his parents’ house. Of course, she called me, you know, since the four of us were so close growing up.”
Rose said something and smiled at me, but I was too busy being in full freak out mode to really pay attention to what she was saying.
Beckett was back.
My Beckett.
When did he come back? Why did he come back? And, perhaps the most important question, why didn’t he come to see me?
My heart raced with a hundred different emotions.
For a moment, I imagined myself and Beckett picking up where we’d left off. BFFs for life, playing board games, watching Star Wars, eating ice cream out of the carton when my mom wasn’t looking. But then, reality set in. I hadn’t seen Beckett in eight years, and, in all that time, he’d never called, written a letter, sent me an email, or even friended me on social media. And now that he’d returned, he didn’t even bother to visit me.
Why?
A lump formed in my throat and I swallowed it down. Beckett may be back in town, but the truth was that the friendship we’d shared ended in the fourth grade.
We were strangers now. Our friendship was past tense. Would I even recognize him if I saw him? Would he recognize me?
“Oh, come on, Lily,” Kim said with a pout. “At least try to look happy.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice. “He’s probably hot now, you know. Guys are always hotter when you don’t see them for a while.”
“Yeah. I’m sure he is.” I wrapped my hand around my glass, about to gulp down my Coke just to get away from the conversation, but, thankfully, I was saved by the announcement that hors d’oeuvres were being served.
Thank goodness.
I needed something to distract me from this conversation. If I kept thinking about whether Beckett was actually back in Bloom, and what that meant, I was going to drive myself nuts.
I started to stand and make my exit, but Rose clasped my hand and pulled me back down.
Crap. She was going to force me to sit and listen to the gossip about my old best friend? She had to know how uncomfortable this whole Beckett thing made me. She was the shoulder I cried on at night when I missed him. She’d seen how losing Beckett had destroyed me once. Why did she want me to revisit this?
“So, did Amber tell you if he’d be attending Bloom Academy?” Rose asked.
My stomach clenched at the thought of Beckett attending my school. What if Beckett had changed? Sure, we used to be into Power Rangers and Star Wars, but those things weren’t exactly the height of cool anymore. What if we didn’t share the same interest anymore? Or, worse, what if he thought I was a loser like everyone else in school did? Just the thought made me want to throw myself out the nearest window.
“Who knows,” Kim replied. “The bigger question is, where has he been all these years?”
She looked pointedly at me, and my cheeks burned under their gaze.
“I have no idea. The last thing I heard was that he suddenly went to live with his grandfather in Florida. I haven’t seen or heard from him since he left.”
“Wasn’t he your best friend?”
“Yeah. So?”
“And you just let him walk away without even asking for a forwarding address.” She took a short sip of her lemon water. “Wow, Lily. That’s pretty cold. I wish I could cut people off like that.” She shook her head.
My cheeks burned hotter. “I was nine. You’re acting like I was the one who left him.”
Kim shrugged, then stretched her neck to see what was going on at the hors d’oeuvres table. “Doesn’t matter. If Rose disappeared without a trace, I would track her down and remind her every day about the fabulous friend she’d left behind.”
“Aw.” Rose reached around me and gave Kim a playful push. “I’d never leave you behind.”
Kim was a pain in the butt, and she annoyed the crap out of me most times, but she and Rose we
re super close. They had been since kindergarten. I’d had two friends like that in my life. One was Calla Rogers, my best friend now, and the other had just been spotted moving back into his parents’ house up the street.
Beckett was back.
And he didn’t even stop by to say hello.
My mind reeled. I suddenly needed very much to get some air. Like, now.
I stood, simultaneously pushing my chair back.
“Are you okay?” Rose asked, her perfectly plucked eyebrows pushed up in concern.
“Fine,” I said, a little too quickly. “I’m just going to grab a bite.”
Kim cradled her lemon water. “Careful, Lily Bell. If lover boy is back in town, you’ll want to watch those hips.”
“Sorry we can’t all be bootylicious like you, Kim,” Rose replied.
“It’s a gift,” Kim replied. “Besides, I was offering good life advice. You don’t see me sprinting to the food table. Summer just started and I need to be bikini ready.”
Rose narrowed her gaze at Kim. “Look, just don’t talk about her body, okay? You know I don’t like that.”
Kim frowned. “Sorry, Ro. I didn’t say anything bad. It was more of a cautionary tale.”
“Well, keep your cautionary tales to yourself,” Rose snapped.
Great. Now on top of worrying about Beckett, I was also responsible for yet another argument between my sister and her friend. Rose and Kim were BFFs, but that didn’t stop Rose from sticking up for me when she thought the occasion called for it. And now, apparently it called for it. In an instant, the affection between the two girls cooled to icy levels.
I didn’t need this right now. I didn’t want to be the reason why Kim and Rose were fighting tonight. Especially with my mind spinning about Beckett’s return.
I needed to be alone for a while. Maybe for the rest of the night if I was lucky.
I pushed the chair out further with the back of my legs, trying to find a clear path to the food table.
Kim stood up beside me, her eyes filled with remorse.
“Lily, don’t go. I’m sorry about the hip thing. You know I love you, right?”
I put my hands up in front of me. “I just… I just need a minute.”
I took a step back, then turned to flee. But I misjudged where the chair was. Instead of stepping into the aisle, my foot got caught in the legs of the chair, and my momentum sent me into a wild downward spiral directly onto the floor.
My glasses flew somewhere across the room, leaving me half blind. Unfortunately, I was not rendered deaf. The laughter that burst from the lips of friends and family entered my ears just fine.
Crap.
My sister’s blurry form hovered over me, her soft hands grabbing my arm as if searching for broken bones.
“Lil, are you okay?”
I was sore, but nothing was broken. Wait. Are we counting the teeny tiny bit of pride I had left? Because that was definitely in shatters, right next to my no doubt broken glasses.
I snatched my hand back and struggled to my feet, cursing my heels the entire way up. This was why I didn’t want to wear heels in the first place. I was a sneakers girl. Sneakers had grip. Sneakers didn’t embarrass you in front of friends and family at your aunt’s wedding.
“I’m fine,” I growled, brushing crumbs and dirt from my dress.
“Lily—”
“I said I’m fine!”
Face hot, I squeezed through the narrow aisles, not bothering to apologize when I stepped on toes along the way. I knew these people. I’d grown up beside many of them. And, yet, when I fell, only one person helped me.
Everyone else just… laughed.
Anger and embarrassment boiled within me, and I rushed for the door, shoving it open with all the force I could manage.
Orange and yellow flames danced in the tabletop fire pits. I squinted at this new distorted and blurred world, wondering where I should go to clear my head.
“Lily, hey.”
Katherine “Kat” Levy walked up to me with a glass of soda in her hand. I’d known Kat since kindergarten. She’d always been nice to me, and she was a killer athlete, leading the Bloom Academy softball team to the finals every year. I considered Kat was my friend. A friend who, hopefully, didn’t see the wipeout I’d just endured inside.
“Hey, Kat.”
Kat’s brows pressed, and she put one hand on my arm. “I saw what happened in there. Are you okay?”
My cheeks heated. Not because I thought Kat would judge me for my fall, but because I was embarrassed. No one wants to be considered the town klutz, and, right now, that’s exactly what I felt like.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
That was a lie.
Kat chuckled softly. “Don’t be too embarrassed. It happens to all of us. One time, I was at first base and there was some dirt in my pants. I undid my belt, trying to get it out, and ended up flashing my butt to everyone in the stands. It was pretty epic.”
I cringed. “That does sound epic.”
“I’m sure it’s on YouTube somewhere.” She took a sip of her soda and shrugged. “My mom always says that everyone messes up sometimes. The trick is forgiving yourself and moving on.”
That was some trick. Moving on was hard for me. Forgiving myself was even harder. I was still beating myself up over things I’d done in the second grade.
“How do you do that?” I asked. “How do you forgive yourself?”
“Me personally?”
“Yeah.”
“I just say, ‘self, you are forgiven.’ And then, I make myself mean it.”
I scoffed. “Just like that. Four words, and it’s done?”
“For the most part. I mean, we forgive everyone else, right?”
I nodded. “I guess that’s true.”
She sipped her drink again and smiled at me. “I’d better get inside.” She pointed to my face. “I’ll keep an eye out for your glasses.”
“Thanks.”
Then she slid back through the doorway and out of sight.
Kat’s words rattled around in my head as I slowly made my way to what appeared to be a few empty tables near the beach.
Could I forgive myself? Could I get over all the mistakes I’d made? It seemed like such a foreign concept. Sure, I’d forgiven others. When Rose broke the ceramic unicorn Mom had given me on my tenth birthday, I forgave her. When Dad backed into my car and dented the trunk so bad that we had to take it to the body shop to pry it open, I forgave him. When Mom gave us food poisoning with a beef dinner recipe she’d found on the Internet, I forgave her. I’d forgiven everyone in my life at least once. Why was forgiving myself so hard?
I plopped down on the farthest couch from the door that I could find and blew out a breath.
This night was the worst. The absolute worst.
“Please don’t tell anyone I’m here. Just pretend you don’t see me, all right?”
My heart leapt into my throat. Someone else was here? I looked around, trying to find the source of the mysterious voice. Not that it did me any good. Everything was blurry and the smoke from the table top flames burned my eyes, making my vision even worse than it already was.
“Maybe she’s deaf,” the voice said, more to itself than to me. Then, he—yes, it was definitely a boy’s voice—spoke up again, this time in a sort of whispered yell. “Are you deaf?”
There was a table in front of me, with a firepit on top of it, blowing smoke and flames into the air. The voice was coming from somewhere in that general direction. I did see some movement on the other side of the table, but I couldn’t tell exactly what it was. For all I knew, it was the smoke playing tricks on my eyes. But how could that be? Smoke didn’t talk.
“I’m not deaf,” I called in the direction of the fire.
“Good. Then pretend you don’t see me.”
That I could do. I could pretend I didn’t see or hear smoky boy. I could take that breath I’d been needing. I could just relax and pretend like everything in my life was oka
y.
I slumped in my chair and let my head roll back until I was staring up at the stars, but, for some reason, I couldn’t relax.
Maybe it was because I couldn’t see the stars, just a big, bluish blob of sky.
Maybe it was because I wasn’t alone.
Or maybe it was because a mysterious voice had awakened my curiosity.
Crap.
“If you didn’t want me to notice you, you shouldn’t have said anything,” I said.
“Point taken.”
I expected the voice to say something, but it didn’t.
Maybe my comment had finally sent it away?
Maybe it was trying to take my advice?
It didn’t matter. I was done with voices and smoke and my curiosity. I just wanted to close my eyes and forget about the world for a little while.
I tried letting the sounds of the waves, far away conversations, and music from the catering hall wash over me. But, in typical fashion, my mind wouldn’t shut up. It kept returning to one central question.
Who was this voice?
I slipped off my shoes and stretched my legs out in front of me, hoping the comfortable position would help calm my mind.
“Who are you?” the voice asked.
So much for my calm. My curiosity was happy, though. That was a rare occurrence.
“A girl who enjoys her peace,” I replied. “Who are you?”
His voice didn’t sound familiar, which meant he wasn’t from my side of the family. He must’ve come here with the groom.
“Someone who’s not supposed to be here.”
What did that mean? Maybe he wasn’t with the wedding party at all. Maybe he was a worker for the catering hall, just out here to enjoy a little bit of the warm night air before having to go back inside. Or, maybe he was a weird stranger who wandered in here from the street?
The thought sent tremors through me, and I opened my eyes.