What Comes Next

by Desni Dantone

  Ben’s head lowered to the floor with a small shake. An apologetic smile lifted the corner of his mouth on one side when he looked up again. “Sorry about that. Some of my friends can be . . . well, they’re assholes.”

  “You picked them.” I shrugged.

  He bit his lip to fight a smile before pushing away from the locker. “Right. Well . . . I just wanted to see how your first week went. I’ll guess I’ll probably see you around tomorrow?”

  “Probably.” I wasn’t sure what he expected me to say, but I could tell my blunt disinterest baffled him.

  He probably expected me to wait with bated breath for him to grace me with his presence tomorrow, like every other girl at this school did. Nope. Not me. Not going to happen.

  He divided a parting grin between Jen and me as he backed away. “Okay. See you later. I’ll try not to knock you over next time.”

  I wanted to tell him there wouldn’t be a next time, because I would be sure to steer clear of him from now on, but he turned his back before I could form the words. Jen’s fingers dug into my shoulder, eliciting a howl of pain from me. When I turned to her, she pierced me with her blue, saucer-sized eyes.

  “What . . . the hell . . . was that?”

  I shrugged. Honestly, I had no idea.

  “He’ll see you tomorrow?” Jen prompted.

  “I guess.”

  “What? Where? How?” She sputtered before holding a hand up. “Let’s start with, how do you know Bennett Sawyer?”

  “He is our neighbor, and he and Travis Winter are repairing the barn roof for Pop.”

  Jen stared at me without blinking. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. Really. He comes over on the weekends, and sometimes after school for an hour or two. He and Travis usually. Sometimes just him.”

  Jen let my revelation sink in, and her eyes slowly returned to a normal size. “That settles it.” She nodded decisively. “The hell with The Pit. I’m sleeping over at your house this weekend.”

  I reached for my long-discarded T-shirt where it lay beside me on the hot roof, and wiped it across my forehead to collect the beads of sweat. It didn’t help. Nine o’clock in the morning, in the middle of January, and I was already about to stroke out from the heat.

  “Maybe because I’m repairing a barn roof”—I hammered a nail down—“by myself.”

  I had already suspected I would be on my own today. When I’d left the party shortly before midnight last night, Travis had a girl in his lap, and a beer—one of many I saw him drink—in his hand. Normally, I would have been right there beside him.

  I hadn’t been into it last night. Not even when Tracy Ryder showed up in that super-short, easy-access skirt that had repeatedly grabbed my attention in the past. Not even Tracy’s legs had managed to get me out of my funk last night. Though I’d left home in desperate need of distraction, I returned early and undistracted.

  I had lain awake half the night thinking about the envelope in my sock drawer.

  “I’m still thinking about it,” I grumbled to myself, then shook my head. “Talking to yourself now? Real smooth.” I paused mid-swing when a ridiculous thought occurred to me. “Insanity? That’s one way to get out of the draft.”

  My head snapped up at the sound of the kitchen’s squeaky screen door, and all thoughts of the draft evaporated. Distraction in the form of a cute little blonde stepped outside. I rocked back on my heels as she strolled toward me, chin down, hair hastily swept into a messy ponytail.

  She’d just woken up, I realized, and damn if that thought didn’t make me grin.

  “Skip out on your chores this morning?” I called as she approached.

  “No,” she fired back.

  I smirked, because now I knew I was right. Besides, I’d seen her brother earlier, but not her. “Yeah, you did. Bringing me water is your punishment.”

  She finally reached me, and I snatched up my shirt before I jumped to the ground to meet her. Her eyes darted everywhere but in my general direction as she held the thermos of water out impatiently.

  “For your information, I had a friend stay over last night. My brother did my chores because I asked him nicely for a favor. Ma’s fixing up a late breakfast, and she didn’t have the time to bring you water herself.”

  “Ah. So you volunteered?”

  “Not hardly,” she muttered.

  I chuckled at her expense. That already made me an asshole, so I, of course, took it a step further. I leaned forward, as if to get a closer look at her. “You know, I had no idea your face could turn that shade of red.” I laughed as I took the thermos from her.

  That prompted her to finally look at me. I nearly lost it at the sight of the glower on her face. Too damn adorable to be menacing. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing harder. “Seriously. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a blush that bright—”

  “Whatever,” she snapped, and turned on her heel. “Keep the thermos, jerk.”

  My arm shot out on impulse to hook her waist. “Wait. I’m sorry,” I gushed as I spun her around. “I won’t tease you anymore. I promise.”

  I dropped my arm quickly, before she popped me in the nose. If memory served me correctly, she had a decent right hook for a girl. I lost one of my baby teeth the day I said she had puny stick arms. Never made that mistake again.

  I quickly slipped my sweat-dampened shirt over my head. “There. Is that better?”

  “I don’t really care.”

  “Yeah,” I quipped, “I can see that.”

  She glared at me some more, and I took a drink from the thermos to fill the silence. I watched her over the rim while her eyes roamed around in search of an escape.

  “Well . . .” I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth with a sigh. “I better get back to work. Got a lot to do, and it’s just me today.”

  I turned to grab a few boards from the stack on the ground. As I made my way to the ladder, I heard her coming up behind me.

  “Where’s Travis?”

  I climbed a few rungs on the ladder until I was able to slide the boards across the finished section of the roof. “Based on what I saw last night, I’d guess he’s sleeping off a bad hangover.”

  She was silent as I hoisted myself onto the roof. The side I was working on this morning angled down from the peak, and nearly touched the grassy bank at the lip. In my periphery, I saw her follow me from the ground to the spot I was repairing.

  “You went out last night?” she wondered.

  I glanced over my shoulder. “You’re still here, huh?”

  She looked around uneasily, and I felt a pang of regret. I hadn’t intended for that to come out the way it sounded.

  “I’ll leave you alone,” she muttered.

  “No,” I countered quickly. It bordered on desperate-sounding to my ears. I shook my head, because I wasn’t sure where that had come from. Sure, I didn’t mind the company while I worked—it was better than talking to myself—but I wasn’t desperate. “Why don’t you make yourself useful, and hand me a few of those boards up here?”

  That would save me from climbing up and down the ladder all morning. In this heat. Damn, I wished I hadn’t put my shirt back on. I wouldn’t have, if not for her obvious discomfort. Poor girl looked as if she had never seen a bare chest before. Then again, she probably hadn’t.

  She retrieved a board and lifted it above her head for me to grab. We repeated the process until I had a sizable pile to work with.

  “That’s good for now.” I waved her off before she gathered another one. “Thanks.”

  I settled in, and hammered a nail down with three swift strikes. Though I couldn’t hear her, I knew she was still there. I felt her watching me. I finished what I was doing without looking over my shoulder, though I wanted to out of curiosity. She wanted something, but what?

  When I turned to grab another board, I glanced in her direction. “Do you want to come up and help, or something?”

  “I’d probably fall off.” She shook her
head rapidly.

  “If I remember right, you’re a natural at climbing.”

  “Trees,” she countered. “Not a sloped roof.”

  I shrugged like there was no difference, and grabbed the board.

  She was silent as I laid it in place, then asked, “So what do you do when you go out?”

  “Why?”

  “Just curious. I don’t know that many people yet, and don’t know much about what there is to do around here.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t want to get into the party scene around here.”

  “Why not?”

  I blew out a puff of air. “Why? Because most of my friends are ruthless assholes, in case you haven’t noticed yet.”

  “So why do you do it then?”

  I stopped to think about an answer. I actually had to think about it, because I’d forgotten somewhere along the way. “Honestly . . . I think I do it to take my mind off of everything else.”

  She nodded like she understood. Everyone thought they understood, but they didn’t. Not until it was their brother that got shipped across the world to fight a bullshit war. Not until it was their friend that came home in a body bag. Not until it was their goddamn name on a government-issued notice.

  “I figured I should have as much fun as I can now,” I added. “Just in case.”

  “What about baseball? I thought—”

  “Don’t believe all the rumors, Ana. Getting a scholarship is a long shot. I know that.”

  “But doable for you. Or so I heard.”

  I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. At least she was partially behind me, and probably couldn’t see it. “Is that what everyone is saying?”

  “Everybody in that school practically worships you.” She stopped, but I knew she had more to say. It took her a moment to get up the nerve. “I’m not sure what to think anymore.”

  I hammered another nail before shifting to peer down at her. “Think about what?”

  “About you. What I’ve heard versus what I remember. Who I see at school versus who I used to know, and who I see now.”

  I nodded thoughtfully. I supposed it appeared that I had multiple personalities. Sometimes I wondered where the real me ended and the mask began. I wondered if she saw through it . . . after only a week.

  “What’s your instinct telling you so far?” I wondered. I didn’t know why, but I really wanted to know what she thought. Maybe because I had known her for so long. Far longer than any of my current friends, who weren’t my friends until I shot up six inches, started packing on muscle, and realized I was a natural at playing ball.

  That summer, I’d decided I was too cool to play silly kid’s games with her. She hadn’t been back since. And now? Well, now, I would happily play some other games with her, if not for those big, innocent eyes. Any other hot new girl at school would have been fair game. Not her. Not for me. Not for anyone, but especially not for me.

  When she didn’t answer, I shifted closer to the edge of the roof, and asked again. “Ana? What’s your instinct tell you?”

  “Well . . .” She wrung her hands nervously before leveling determined eyes on me. “Last weekend, you reminded me of the boy I knew. What little I could remember, that is . . .”

  “I guess I’m easily forgotten,” I muttered softly.

  “Then I get to school,” she continued, “and I learn that you’re their version of a god, who swaggers through the halls and ignores the little people, like me.”

  “I do not swagger,” I objected.

  “You definitely have a walk.” She turned to pace a few steps before coming back. “You didn’t say one word to me all week, and now, when you’re not being a sarcastic jerk, you’re not so bad, even kind of nice.”

  Nice? I certainly didn’t hear that very often . . . and, even then, only from my mama. I stared down at her silently for a moment. After I was certain she was finished, I said, “Wow. That sounds really confusing.”

  “Tell me about it,” she groaned. “So who are you? Really?”

  I sighed and swung my legs over the lip of the roof. I sat there, a few feet above her, and met her searching eyes with earnest. “I didn’t want my presence to interfere with you making your own friends last week. If the piranhas thought you knew me, you would have made friends with the wrong people. By Friday, you had already started to make your own way. That’s when I decided to check up on you.”

  She squinted up at me, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the sun behind me, or that she didn’t believe me.

  I placed my hand over my heart. “I swear.”

  “So you are nice?”

  I snorted softly. “I think I can be. Some may not agree.”

  She nodded like she knew exactly what I was talking about, and I decided that was my cue to get back to work. As I knelt on the roof with a new board, I heard her soft snort.

  “So, the reputation is accurate, then?”

  Depended on what exactly all she’d heard, but . . . “Probably,” I admitted.

  “What’s your girlfriend think about it?”

  By some miracle, I didn’t hit my thumb with the hammer. It was close—a little too close—but I wasn’t worried about that right now. My head whipped over my shoulder. “Girlfriend?”

  She looked surprised by my reaction. “Tracy, right? I heard—”

  I chuckled. “Tracy isn’t my girlfriend.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t do the girlfriend thing, Ana.”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion. I supposed it was difficult for her to understand. I planned to make sure she never discovered, firsthand, what half of the boys in this town did with the girls on Friday nights.

  Her mouth worked up another question, and I could only guess what she planned to ask next. Thank God she didn’t get a chance to voice it.

  “Ana!” Marly—or Ma, as she insisted I call her—shouted from the kitchen door. She wiped her hands on her apron. “Your friend is up. Breakfast is ready. Come on in.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Ana turned, possibly to say something else to me, but was interrupted by Marly.

  “Ben, honey, I’ve got fresh pancakes, bacon, and eggs. You’re welcome to a plate.”

  “Thank you, but Mama fixed me something this morning.”

  “Suit yourself,” she grumbled. “Ana, come on now!”

  Ana cast me a fleeting glance before she hurried to the door, where her grandmother waited. With Ana gone, I ripped off my shirt and got back to work on the roof. Ten minutes later, Marly came out with a plate. While I took a small break to eat—if only to appease her—I darted glances at the house.

  I couldn’t help but wish that Ana had been the one to bring it out. After not seeing her for nearly five years, I realized I missed having her around.

  The following week, I did exactly what I needed to do. I avoided her. At school. At the farm—when I could. Working with Travis helped, since Ana seemed to shy away from him. I pulled off a decent job at avoiding her, until the morning Marly asked me to help with the clogged drain in the bathroom.

  I was elbow-deep in disgusting brown water when Ana stumbled into the small room with fresh-out-of-bed hair. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she stepped up to the counter, unaware that I was at her feet . . . and damn if I didn’t notice her nightgown was practically see-thru. What warm-blooded male wouldn’t notice?

  I cleared my throat softly to announce my presence before it got any more awkward—for her. She flew into the wall behind her with a yelp, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Fixing the drain.” I lifted the wrench in my hand for emphasis.

  “Why?”

  “Because your grandmother asked me to.”

  I went back to loosening the pipe while she gaped at me for several long seconds. Each second I forced myself to not sneak another peek was torturous, and hard as hell to pull off with her standing there in clear view. Finally, she snatched the
hair brush from the counter and scurried out of the room with a huff.

  “Aw. Come on,” I called after her with a chuckle. “Your hair doesn’t look that bad!”

  A door slammed in the distance, and that was the last I saw of her that weekend.

  Aside from that, I’d maintained minimal interaction with her for several weeks, the way it should have been since day one. It helped that the weather was consistently nice, and Coach had me in the batting cage every day after school. It was still a few weeks yet before baseball season officially kicked off, and then, I would be even busier. My hours working at the Maxwells’ farm were already limited to the weekends now, and that was how it would likely stay until graduation.

  Despite doing a decent job of staying away from Ana, I knew I couldn’t evade her forever. Her birthday proved to be the turning point. I had, of course, remembered the date. Not that she would ever know after I’d skillfully dodged eye contact with her all day at school. I even found an alternate route between a few of my classes, which I used to avoid bumping into her in the halls.

  When I got home that evening, I learned that all my efforts had come back to slap me in the face.

  “Ben?” Mama called from her room across the hall. I had just come home, showered, and changed when I heard the phone ring. Though I hadn’t heard the details of the conversation, I picked up on the tension in her voice now. “You dressed?”

  “Yeah.” I squeezed my eyes shut, and waited for her to drop the bomb.

  “Good.” Her voice was close, and I glanced up to find her running her fingers through her damp hair from my doorway. “We’re going over to the Maxwells’ for dinner. It’s Ana’s birthday, and Caroline’s not doing so well. Marly thinks this might be it.”

  I muttered a string of curses under my breath. Not because I had to endure dinner at the Maxwells’ this evening, but because I felt like an even bigger asshole now. The girl’s mother was dying, and I’d been consumed with avoiding her like a disease.

  I’d had it wrong all along. I was the one she should have been avoiding. She wasn’t the corrupted one. That status fell solely on me.