Summer Heat

by Carly Phillips

  “Thanks. Blake. Nice to meet you,” I replied. He waved off my thanks as no big deal and turned back to the house.

  “So he’s the other guy?” I whispered to Aubry who was now walking next to me.

  “Nah, he lives a couple of houses down,” Aubry stated. “He goes out with my cousin Becky, and she’s always here, so he’s always here. Cool dude.”

  We headed inside and a round fair-skinned woman with short brown curly hair up to her shoulders walked toward us with a huge smile on her face. I let out a breath when her kind brown eyes found mine.

  “Oh, aren’t you the prettiest little thing?” she cooed before wrapping her arms around me. “I’m sorry for your loss, honey. God has a plan for all of us. I’ll make sure you’re happy here.” She whispered the last part so that only I could hear. I wondered which loss she was sorry for. I wondered if she even knew about my many losses. I nodded against her shoulder but didn’t reply.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Parker. I’ll be sure to stay out of your way. You won’t even know I’m here,” I said quietly once she let me go.

  “Nonsense,” she said loudly. “You will do no such thing. You will bother me as much as you can, and you will call me Maggie. None of that Mrs. Parker thing around here.”

  I gave her a small smile and looked around. The wooden stairs were to the right, directly in front of the front door. To the left, there was a sitting room with a large burgundy cloth couch and a white coffee table. Mrs. Parker laughed when she saw me crinkle my nose as I looked at the room.

  “The couch is temporary. Cole opened up a bottle of pop on the white couch that was there two weeks ago and managed to stain everything. I had to get rid of it, but I didn’t want to leave it bare, so I made him and the boys bring up this couch from the basement. They had strict rules not to go near the sitting area with food or drinks, but Cole is a bit of a rule breaker. He’s grounded until Friday. No football, no girls, no video games. Since those are his three favorite things, he’s been suffering for two weeks. He’s probably moping around in his room doing homework right now. You’ll meet him at dinner time.” Maggie had a soothing voice, and even as she told me the story—which she was obviously upset about—she sounded as if she was talking to me about cute little puppies in a pet shop. I could tell that she truly loved these boys, and it made me feel warm inside. Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  After giving me a tour of the downstairs area, Greg and Aubry helped me take my stuff upstairs and showed me to my room. Greg knocked on the first door to the right of the stairs.

  “This is your room. Becky’s in there now cleaning it. She stays here when she comes over,” he explained.

  A girl with a wide smile, fiery red hair, and bright blue eyes opened the door. I’d never seen anybody with such red hair before.

  “Hi,” she cheered joyfully after looking at me up and down a few times. “I’m Becky—your best friend and sometimes roommate,” she said before pulling me in for a hug.

  When she let go, I looked at her and crinkled my forehead. “What makes you think I want a best friend?” I asked curiously.

  “Oh, I can tell. You need one. You’re wearing a sweater that’s two sizes too big for your body, you have on sweats, and your boots make you look like you’re going to work in construction. Trust me, you need me as a best friend,” Becky said matter-of-factly.

  To my surprise, I laughed. A real laugh. The sound was so foreign to my own ears that I scared myself. From the looks on Greg, Aubry, and Becky’s faces, I could tell I surprised them as well.

  “If you say so,” I said with a smile as I shrugged.

  The boys left us alone, and Becky helped me unpack all my clothes and put them into the drawers that she emptied out for me.

  “So do you want to play dress-up?” Becky asked excitedly. I bit down on my lip. I was scared of playing anything that had to do with her dressing me up. I might go downstairs looking like a Moulin Rouge dancer.

  “How old are you?” I asked curiously.

  “I’ll be fourteen next week. How old are you?”

  “I’ll be fourteen next month. So why would we play dress-up?”

  “Pfff, you don’t have to be five to play dress-up, Blake,” she said laughing.

  “Umm...well, I’ve never actually played dress-up. I just know that only little kids do it,” I whispered, staring down at my hands.

  She gasped. “You’ve never played dress-up?”

  I shook my head and suddenly regretted telling Becky because I realized that I had given her permission to dress me up. Becky plucked my eyebrows, straightened my loose curls with a hair iron—something I’d never even seen before—filed and painted my nails, and applied makeup on me. I told her about living with Aunt Shelley and how she died a week ago. About how I don’t really remember my parents because they died when I was little. I didn’t go into detail about how or when. I’d never had anybody to talk to, and it felt good to confide in Becky. Not that there was much to tell. I’d had friends growing up, but they were mostly from dance class and school. It was going to be weird actually living with kids my age.

  “Do you live close by?” I asked Becky curiously.

  “Yeah,” she replied distractedly. “A block over. I ride my bike here every day. Sometimes my mom works nights on the weekends, so I stay with Aunt Mags. I like staying here better anyway.”

  Becky gave me a plethora of information on everybody. I found out that Aubry was Maggie’s adoptive son. She saw him in an orphanage one Christmas and knew he was meant to live with her. He was just shy of two years old and had been left there by his teenage mother. Two years later, Cole was dropped off by his father, who couldn’t care for him any longer. Greg stays over when things in his house are going bad. He lives with his alcoholic mother and whatever boyfriend she lets move in with them. Maggie is good friends with his grandmother, but she lives a couple of towns over, so Maggie took to watching him for her.

  “His mother’s a bitch,” Becky whispered loudly.

  My eyes widened and my mouth popped opened.

  Becky shrugged nonchalantly at my reaction. “She is. I’d rather not have one than end up with her as mine,” she said, shaking her head. “Poor Greg,” she added sadly. I could tell Becky really cared for Greg.

  “At least he has Maggie and you guys,” I said with a reassuring smile.

  “Yeah,” she sighed. “I just wish he could move here. He stays over a lot because he’s Cole and Aubry’s best friend, but still...”

  An hour later I was looking at myself in the mirror and was surprised to see that I didn’t look like a flapper or the annoying lady from The Drew Carey Show, that Aunt Shelley loved to watch. I looked...older. My long dirty-blonde hair was brushed and straightened perfectly; my lifeless gray eyes were brightened by black eyeliner and light gold eyeshadow. My already golden skin had bronzer, making it look like I tanned. I was wearing tight jeans and a tight periwinkle sweater that covered my growing chest and low furry charcoal-colored boots.

  “You look sexy,” Becky said as she jumped around me clapping her hands. “Like a woman. I knew you had curves under all that funk you were wearing.”

  “I don’t want to look sexy, Becky. Maybe I should wear other jeans or something. I don’t want Maggie to think I’m...slutty,” I pleaded.

  “Nope,” Becky replied, shaking her head. “Aunt Maggie doesn’t judge a book by its cover. She already met you wearing that hideous thing you came in wearing. She’ll know I put you up to this. Trust me, I’ve worn way skimpier things. Your top doesn’t even show off your boobs. You’re wearing a sweater,” she replied exasperated.

  “Fine,” I sighed.

  We went downstairs and met Mrs. Parker in the kitchen.

  “Aunt Mags, look at Blake’s transfermation,” Becky announced triumphantly.

  “Transformation, Becky,” Mrs. Parker corrected as she turned around and looked at me with kind brown eyes. “Blake, you look lovely, not that you didn’t alrea
dy. I don’t think you need all that makeup though.”

  “Oh, Aunt Mags, it’s only for dinner. She’s not going to wear it to school,” Becky said, rolling her eyes. “Besides, she’d never played dress-up before.”

  Maggie gave me a sad smile before turning back to put the food on serving plates.

  “May I help you?” I asked politely. I always used to set the table at Aunt Shelley’s house. I felt like it was the least I could do.

  “Sure, Blake. Will you set the table for me, please?” Mrs. Parker asked kindly. “Becky, show her where everything is, please.”

  As Becky and I set the table, she continued to feed me gossip. She told me that she and Greg were a couple, but all they’ve done was hold hands. Apparently, the kids in school were already kissing—with tongue! Gross. The thought made me want to go brush my teeth.

  “Why would you want to touch someone’s tongue with your own anyway?” I asked half disgusted—and half curious.

  “I don’t know, but I think I’m going to try it with Greg at some point. I’ll let you know how it feels,” she replied wistfully.

  I cringed. I couldn’t believe she was even considering that.

  Once we set the table and got the drinks, Mrs. Parker asked us to get the boys.

  “Do Aubry and the other kid share a room?” I asked Becky as we made our way upstairs.

  “Nah, they each have their own rooms. The house has five rooms. Maggie gets the big one at the end of the hall, Aubry sleeps in the one next to her, and Cole sleeps in the one across the hall from Aubry’s. Then there’s your room, which I use when I come over, and there’s a guest room. Greg stays in there sometimes, but most of the time they do a big sleepover,” she explained. I had already used the bathroom, which was across from our room, so I made a map in my head as to where their rooms were.

  “A big sleepover?” I asked confused.

  Becky laughed. “We set up sleeping bags downstairs when we watch scary movies at night, and we all sleep there.”

  I nodded, but didn’t reply. I didn’t like the thought of sleeping outside of a room, so I made a mental note to pretend illness on the days they did that.

  “Why don’t you get Cole since you haven’t met him yet?” she said mischievously. “His jaw is going to drop when he sees you. He’s a bit of a playboy though. I’m warning you right now.” She leaned over and whispered, “He’s gotten to second base with like three girls from school already.”

  I laughed and was suddenly curious to see this Cole character. I walked to the room she pointed at—right next to the bathroom and diagonal to ours. I lightly knocked once. Becky started to laugh and told me I had to pound the door down in order to wake Cole up if he was sleeping. I knocked harder and then twice more. Still no answer. I pressed my ear to the door to see if I could hear anything.

  Finally, after three more loud knocks, I opened the door a little and peeked in. I looked over my shoulder and saw Aubry’s door open. Becky must’ve still been in there. I opened Cole’s door wider.

  “Cole?” I called out tentatively. His room was dark. The light of the television and hallway helped me see him lying on his bed. I made my way around and got a closer look at him. He looked so peaceful. He had brown hair and really long eyelashes. I could barely make out his features in the dim light but that half of his face looked very cute.

  “Cole?” I said in a hushed whisper. Nothing. My heart started racing, and I felt the blood draining from my body. Why isn’t he answering? Why isn’t he waking up? I started to shove him roughly.

  “Cole,” I said loudly as I shoved him. “Wake up, Cole!” I was practically panting when he groggily opened his eyes and looked at me like I was crazy. Becky walked into the room and switched the lights on before walking away laughing. I looked into Cole’s deep green eyes, and I felt the air swoosh out of my body as my heart dropped to my feet.

  I was terrified. A little less so now that he was awake, and I knew he wasn’t dead. He sat up and turned his body toward me in one swift quick move. He looked as terrified as I felt.

  “Do I know you?” he asked, wiping his face with both hands roughly.

  “Umm...no. I’m Blake,” I replied slowly.

  He got up and put his hands on his hips. He was much taller than me. Why are these guys so tall? Or is it that I’m so short? I looked at his naked chest and saw the defined lines on his abs. Cole was thin—not lanky like Aubry and not muscular like Greg—just average. He was tall like them though. He was wearing basketball shorts, and I was horrified to see that there was a tent in them. I looked back to his face quickly and saw him smirking at me. He looked down at his awakened crotch and looked at me with a sheepish grin.

  “Morning wood,” he explained with a shrug.

  I crinkled my nose. “Eww,” I replied completely disgusted. “I just came to tell you that the food is on the table. I’ll be downstairs.”

  I turned to leave and heard him blow out a low whistling sound. I turned back around and saw his eyes staring at my butt. I shook my head and rolled my eyes. Unbelievable.

  Chapter Five

  Present

  I’m leaving work early to meet with Veronica, Mark’s assistant, about the letter they sent me. I’m making it a point to get there ten minutes before 12:00 in hopes of catching Mr. Lewis before he goes to lunch. I’m interning in a law firm for the summer, and it’s a block away from Lewis, Smith, and Morris. So far, all I’ve done is file papers and answer phone calls, but I’ll take what I can to get my foot in the door. I call my boss, Gina, ten minutes before clocking out to remind her that I’m leaving early. At 11:30, I grab my purse from the bottom drawer of my desk, get up, and clock out. I run to the elevator and catch it right before it closes.

  “Hey, Blake, you look rushed.”

  I look back and see Martin, a new attorney that started working here recently. He’s one of those guys that won’t shut up once he starts talking. I made the mistake of starting a conversation over the coffee pot in the break room last week. My entire lunch hour was spent with him yapping away about bad coffee and his break-up with an ex that refused to drink coffee. I ended up having a granola bar for lunch that day. Needless to say, I was grouchy and have since decided to keep my discussions with Martin to a minimum.

  “Yup, I have somewhere to be,” I reply in a rush before turning around and facing the doors in front of me. Maybe he won’t talk too much since this elevator is jam packed.

  “Oh, really? Where you headed?” he asks.

  I make a conscious effort not to groan out loud or roll my eyes even though he can’t see my face.

  “I’m meeting someone for lunch,” I half lie since I am meeting someone, and this is technically my lunch break. He doesn’t need to know that I’m only working a half day.

  When the doors open, I bolt through the lobby and out the doors. I’ve never been more thankful to be wearing flats.

  I make it to Lewis’s building in record time. I look at my gold watch and see that it’s 11:45. Perfect. I make my way inside the busy lobby where everyone is bustling out of the building ready for lunch. I skip over to the bathroom on the left side of the lobby and switch my flats for my heels. Once my flats are tucked away in my purse, I eye myself in the mirror. I fix the fly aways in my hair and clean up some smudged eye liner from under my eye before walking out. As I walk toward the elevators, I hear a man to my right shout “Mark” loudly. I turn my head in that direction and catch a blond man looking at me. When our eyes meet, I stumble back a step from the impact.

  We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, but it’s really only half a second. Mark’s blue eyes are looking at me in wide panic, and I can feel my heart pounding wildly against my chest. He turns around to greet an older man as I feel an unhealthy supply of blood rushing to my head and hear a loud ringing in my ear. I haven’t been able to peel my eyes off of him, so I catch him when he looks back at me. The surprise in his eyes has been replaced by sadness, and for some stupid reason,
it tugs at my heart.

  I let out a weak breath and wish I wasn’t so stubborn. I wish I could turn back the last twenty minutes, go back to the elevator with Martin, and let him have his stupid conversation with me. I wish I didn’t have this strong urge to uncover my past because with this urge comes devastation and sorrow that I’m not sure I’m strong enough to relive. Even though I have the memories from my nightmares, I’m not sure I want to experience them in the light. They’re more real in the light. I should have kept them buried in the darkness, but it’s too late for that. Mark’s sky-blue eyes bring back a flood of nightmares that I wish were just that.

  I catch my breath and quickly step into the waiting elevator. I furiously press down the Close Door button and shift from one foot to the other as I silently pray that Mark is leaving the building. When I step out of the elevator on the twentieth floor, I am greeted by a carbon-copy Barbie named Tanner. I had a slight altercation with her kid sister, Skipper, the last time I was here. I take a deep breath and inform Barbie that I’m here to see Veronica Stein. She plasters her fake smile, showing me her expensive veneers, and asks me to take a seat. I know I should sit, but I feel like a gassed up bottle of pop that’s just been shaken. Instead, I pace the waiting area while nervously smoothing out my long wavy hair.

  “Blake,” Veronica says, smiling when she spots me. “Come to my office, please.”

  Veronica is in her late forties and has short brown hair that tucks into her chin. She has skin so fair that it’s almost translucent and sharp brown eyes. She’s always impeccably dressed in what I can only assume are custom-tailored skirt suits.

  Once we step into her spacious office, I take a seat in one of the leather chairs across from her desk. Veronica starts to shuffle papers on her desk until she finds a large manila envelope that has my name on it. She puts on her designer reading glasses and unclasps the envelope. She takes out some papers and skims through them with a raised eyebrow.