by A. R. Perry
“Since I realized I leave in a few months and all Mom will have is you and Ryan. Sad future,” he says through the crack then closes the door.
Okay. So perhaps he’s right. Something I will never admit to his face because his head is about five times bigger than Spencer’s and I don’t need to inflate it more. But still. I suppose it won’t kill me to put a little effort in with my mom. There is only one year left before I’m living several states over.
I twist my mouth to the side as I consider my next move. It would be nice to have peace in the house this summer. Would also be nice to get my mom off my back and maybe, just maybe get a bit more freedom. It’s not as if I hate all the girly dresses. In fact, I quite enjoyed the attention I got from Jax when wearing them. I guess it comes down to how much I hate being told what to do.
The door clicks behind me and I come up short when I notice the outfit laid out on my comforter. There’s not a hint of floral in sight. No ruffles. Nothing pink. Instead, a simple purple-and-black plaid shirt dress is resting next to my black leather jacket. And on the floor sit my black Vans.
My fingers shake as I run the fabric through them. This outfit is so me. Something I would pick out for myself. The perfect mix of girly and tomboy. Can’t skate wearing it, but I don’t mind rocking it out in public.
Dang. She is good at this.
I pull the dress on, pairing it with black leggings to cover the bruise still healing on my knee. It’s gone all yellow, which somehow looks worse than the deep purple of last week. Once it’s on, I’m in awe of how good it looks. Of how good I feel.
My mom hit it out of the park.
“Hey, Ma!” I call from the upstairs hallway. Five seconds later she comes into view, a deep frown still making her forehead. “You think you could help me with my hair?”
Dear lord.
Her eyes mist over and I swear she looks as if I told her Santa was real. And that I do believe in fairies. Sprinkle some unicorn glitter in there too and none of that would match the expression on her face.
“Y-yes of course.” She climbs the stairs in a flash and pulls me in for a tight hug almost cutting off my air supply. When she leans back her eyes are no longer on the verge of spilling over but she’s got a giddy smile going on. “The way you wore it on your date the other night looked great, but how about we try a messy ponytail?”
A smile stretches across my face matching hers as she nudges me toward my room.
So this is what common ground feels like.
“You staying for the game?” Wills asks as he sets dishes in the sink.
We were left on our own tonight. Mr. and Mrs. Everett had tickets so some show and so they told us to order a pizza and try not to make a mess of the house.
Trust at its fullest because I swear I saw a devious glint in Ryan’s eye. Thankfully, Will crushed whatever he was thinking with a promise to keep us in line. A promise he would do anything to keep. He’s turned into such a suck-up.
I hand over the remaining plates and try to keep my gaze off Rylee, which is hard considering the low-cut tank top she’s wearing.
“I have homework I should probably get to.”
“But the game is about to start,” Ryan says from behind me.
“If he’s staying, it’s to hang out with me and not you losers.” Rylee saddles up next to me bumping my thigh with her hip.
We’ve been back to normal these past few days, which has been nice. Better than nice. Which is the exact reason I chickened out on talking to her about the move and Jax and everything. I did, however, talk to Zoe and told her we couldn’t continue with our relationship. If it can even be called that. Judging from how her mouth was plastered to Micky Donaldson at lunch, she took the news well.
Rumor has it—and by that, I mean overhearing her friend talk about it during PE—she’s been after him for a while but he wouldn’t give her the time of day. Until me.
Guess our hookup was mutual in terms of convenience.
“Better leave your bedroom door open,” Will mutters as he places the last of the plates into the dishwasher.
“Shut up.” Rylee shoves past him on her way to the refrigerator. “That rule only applies to guys I’m dating. This is Spencer we’re talking about.”
I meet Ryan’s gaze over her head and he cocks an eyebrow. There’s that glint of mischief in his eyes again.
Rylee tosses me a soda that I almost don’t catch, too busy trying to decipher what’s going on in Ryan’s messed-up head.
“What do you say, Hendricks? Wanna stay and watch Will cry when the Sharks lose?”
“They’re not losing.” Will slams the dishwasher shut and stomps out of the room to our laughter.
“Sure.”
Rylee links her arm through mine and tugs me toward the living room. “He’s always so testy on game nights. Plus, from what I overheard this afternoon, Ellie broke up with him for the hundredth time. Wanna take a bet on how long it will be until they’re back together again?”
“By the end of the week,” Ryan says as he elbows Rylee in the back sending her to the side and right into my arms.
Whoa. My heart shoots up into my throat as her hands land on my chest, fingers digging in as she regains her balance. Ryan snickers as I grip her hips and steady her, my thumb grazing against bare skin where her shirt rode up. And just like that my hands let go as if she’s on fire and I’m seconds away from being burned.
“Asshole,” Rylee yells then whips her attention to me. “He’s been unbearable this week. Tell me again how we’re related, let alone wombmates?”
I nod, but no words form on my tongue. I’m still very aware of the fact that we’re standing in the doorway so close I could lean down and plant a kiss on her full lips with little effort. She also hasn’t tried to take a step backward and I swear I felt the ghost of her fingertips over one of my pecs before her hands fell to her side.
Rylee’s cheeks tinge pink, resembling how they look after an afternoon in the sun. Fear takes over because I swear I’m thinking loud enough for her to hear. In the next breath, she steps away leaving my arms feeling empty.
“So, how many comments do you think it will take to make Will lose his cool? My guess is four considering his team is up against mine.” She winks and turns away, jogging into the living room.
Was I reading too much into that? I swear there was a hint of longing in her eyes. Or maybe I’m muddling my own emotions. No wonder she got out of there as soon as possible. If I keep this up, she’ll be running for the damn hills.
When I get to the living room, Will is sitting in his dad’s recliner, absorbed in the game. Two minutes in and we’ve already lost him.
I step toward the couch, but Ryan props a foot up, stretching to where he’s taking up the whole thing.
“Move, idiot,” Rylee calls from the two-seater on the other side of the coffee table.
“Nah.” Ryan yawns and stretches his arms over the side of the armrest before shooting me a wink.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Is he seriously doing this on purpose because he thinks I like his sister? Okay, so I do, but I never came out and admitted it. And if he doesn’t cool it she will catch on. The last thing I need is for her to jump to conclusions or hear secondhand information before I’ve gotten the chance to tell her how I feel. About Jax that is. Because I’m never telling her I love her.
Whoa.
I swallow so hard my throat aches. The L word bounces around in my head making it ache. Do I love her? Is that what this terrible aching feeling is every time I see her with Jax? Every time I think about her with Jax.
Ryan clears his throat and I realize I’ve been standing there spacing like a weirdo for God knows how long.
Letting out a groan, I plop down next to her, my thigh bumping into hers and sending a bolt of electricity through my chest.
I should have gone home.
“You okay?” Rylee whispers and tucks her feet under to give me more room.
No. No, I’m n
ot. Now I’m acutely aware of the way my heart skips at the slightest of touches. How my body gravitates toward her with a need to touch any part of her if only for a moment.
This is so not good.
“Mmm-hmm,” I grunt and press my hip into the armrest trying to give myself even an inch more of space.
“We could—”
“Game!” Will shouts and gestures toward the TV where the puck was stolen by the other team.
Rylee rolls her eyes and leans her head on my shoulder in a totally normal move she’s done at least a thousand times. Except now all I can smell is her shampoo and my heart won’t calm the hell down.
Damn Ryan. Why did he have to push? Why is it he couldn’t drop it so I can focus on something else. Anything else. But I know now this won’t ever be something I can shove into the corner of my head and forget about. My heart won’t let me. Now that I realized the truth of the matter Rylee, and I will never just be friends again. My stupid heart can’t take it.
So now I have no freaking clue what I’ll do because Rylee and me, we’re never going to happen. Not the way I want us to.
With a sigh, I rest my head on hers and focus on the game. Might as well suck in these moments while I can. Because I’ll have to tell her. Whether it’s today or a year from now, I’ll have to tell my best friends that I’m crazy in love with her, then stand there as she rips out my heart out of my chest and hands it back to me.
“Shit!” Will turns off the TV and throws the remote, filling the quiet room with a loud bang as it hits the wall and the batteries spring out flying everywhere.
His team lost, which means he’ll be delightful for the rest of the night. This always happens and is the exact reason I try to avoid watching with him. Zen Will may make an appearance when it has to do with our parents, but sports? Not a chance.
“Next time, bro.” Ryan pats the armrest and sits up grinning as Will runs an aggravated hand through his short hair. He’s never looked so much like our father until this moment. “So what are we going to do with the rest of the night?”
The clock on the wall confirms it’s close to ten. My curfew extends to the time people need to leave the house. Even Spencer. My mom’s generosity and leeway depend on her mood. And now we have a shattered remote to explain.
“I should probably go,” Spencer mumbles and rubs both palms into his eyes. He’s been so quiet the whole night I jump at the sound of his voice. Had I not seen his eyes open watching the game I would have thought he was asleep.
“Boo.” Ryan chucks a pillow at his face, almost hitting me in the process. I glare as Spencer tucks the pillow under his arm. “It’s Friday night and too late to go anywhere now. Please don’t tell me we’re all going to file upstairs to go to bed.”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do.” Will stands, stretching out his back with a grunt. “After you take out the trash.”
“Do you believe this?” Ryan thumbs at Will, his face morphing into one of disgust. “A few chest hairs and he thinks he’s Dad.”
Now it’s my turn to cringe away, gagging at the image of my brother’s chest. “TMI.”
“It’s not the chest hairs that make the man it’s the bal—”
“Ew! Okay!” I jump up, cutting Will off before he can finish that sentence. “I don’t need nightmares.”
“Seriously.” Ryan shoves my head, knocking me back on the couch with a palm to the face. “What are we doing?”
Growling, I push him away, narrowing a glare at Spencer when all he does is laugh. Traitor. “You’re going to take the trash out like Stand-in Dad said and I’m going to walk Spencer to the door. I don’t want to get grounded. Not when we have a whole Saturday planned at the skate park.” I bump Spencer with my shoulder who nods in return.
A whole Saturday uninterrupted. It’s been forever.
“You heard your sister,” Will says in perhaps one of the worst impressions of our dad.
“Come on.” Ryan throws himself on the love seat, landing on my lap with his stinky feet in my face.
“Get off.” I shove but that only gets me an elbow to the thigh. “Spence, a little help?” He’s sitting next to me, avoiding Ryan’s long limbs all while laughing.
When he shrugs, I reach over and wrap an arm around the back of his neck in a tight headlock and tug him toward me so he has to suffer through what is the smell of death coming off my twin’s feet. We can’t be related let alone part of the same DNA.
“Idea!” Ryan rolls off me, doing a backflip to land on the floor at my feet. I use the opportunity to give him a shove, sending him tumbling over the coffee table.
The fake plant and coasters go everywhere when he reaches out to stop himself. Nothing works though and he ends up stomach-down on the white carpet.
“Guys!” Will bellows and reaches down to help him up. “I refuse to be responsible for an ER visit. Save it for when Mom and Dad are here.”
“Yeah, Ryan. Gotta be more careful.”
He levels me with a glare and straightens his shirt. “As I was saying… y'all won’t leave and I refuse to go to bed at—” he glances at the clock “—nine forty-seven on a Friday. So what we really need is a game of hide-and-seek in the dark.”
Will snorts and heads toward the kitchen. Spencer and I both look at each other and roll our eyes.
When we were kids, it was our favorite game. Used to drive the babysitters nuts. But that was because we were fantastic hiders when we wanted to be and one time she actually called our parents in a total freak-out when she thought we had snuck out. None of us were over the age of eleven with Ryan, Spencer, and me around seven, so I’m not sure where she got that bright idea from. Our dad found us all crammed in their closet. Somewhere along the way we stopped trying to find each other and found it far more entertaining to mess with the babysitter.
It was the last time she sat for our parents and hide-and-seek was officially banned from the house. At least when the ‘rents were around.
“We’re way too old for the game,” I say as I stand.
“We’re never too old to have fun.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Spencer nod in agreement. “You can’t seriously want to play.” He shrugs at my words, which gains a mischievous grin from Ryan.
“You’re not still afraid of the dark are you, Riles?” There’s that stupid pet name again. Ryan sounded way too much like Jax when he said it that I’ve got to think he’s been around school spying on me.
“Of course I’m not.”
“You sure you’re not scared one of your dolls will come to life and hunt you down?” Spencer hides a smile behind his fist when Ryan elbows him.
“I hate you,” I throw at Spencer as I make my way to the kitchen.
Truth be told I took way longer than most kids to no longer fear the dark. Until I was about twelve to be exact. A topic my brothers loved to throw in my face whenever I would run down the hall to the bathroom. Or be caught in the same hiding spot as Spencer because he would never leave me alone knowing I would freak out. He was always there, grabbing my hand and telling me it was okay even when we shimmied under the bed and I thought we were about to be sucked into some monster realm.
“So we’re doing this.” Ryan trails me into the kitchen, turning off every light on his way.
“Have fun with that.” Will drops a detergent tab into the dishwasher, then turns it on.
“Oh, no, big bro. All or nothing.” Ryan jumps up into the island, grabbing a grape from the fruit bowl. “This might be your last opportunity to hang with us like this.”
Those words get his attention and I see the exact moment he gives. Stupid Ryan and his ability to talk anyone into anything.
“Fine. One game.” He holds up a pointer finger as emphasis.
This won’t last one game.
It never does.
“Ugh. Fine!” I throw my hands up in defeat. “But no outside. Or the attic. Everywhere else is free game.”
“Anything else, Your
Highness?” Ryan asks.
“Yes…not it!” I touch my nose as fast as I can and grin as Will and Spencer follow suit.
Ryan groans and slumps forward on the counter. “Lame.”
“You know the rules,” I singsong as my hand latches on to Spencer’s. He stiffens at the contact but after a few seconds, his fingers tighten on mine.
And the butterflies in my gut go wild. To them, it’s as if they are front row to the Super Bowl instead of the run-of-the-mill friendly handholding going on.
“Yeah. I know the rules.” Ryan walks over to the corner and thumps his forehead on the wall. “You got one hundred seconds. Make it count.”
Will, Spencer, and I glance at each other as he yells one loud and clear. Then hell breaks loose as we shove our way out of the kitchen at the same time.
We might put up a fight, but the truth is we all love this game. We played it over summer break last year when Noah was home visiting and my parents took an overnight trip out of town. It was the night Ryan got locked in the attic and we had to add it to our no-go list.
I yank Spencer up the stairs, muffling a giggle when he trips and catches himself on the top step.
“Try hiding alone,” Will calls from the hallway.
Yeah right.
I hold a finger to my lips as I lead Spencer to Ryan’s room. I haven’t stepped foot in here for years. Too afraid of what I might find. Which is what makes it the perfect hiding spot. He’ll never think to go here first.
We maneuver around the crap littering almost every inch of the floor until we reach his closet.
“He’s going to kill us,” Spencer whispers.
I shrug and crack open the door, sliding inside and shutting it the second Spencer follows.
If I thought his room was bad, this is so much worse. I have no idea how he fits all this crap in here or why but the ground doesn’t even feel even.
I stumble forward when my foot catches on something and smack right into Spencer’s firm chest. His hands come up, gripping my hips to steady me.
“Sorry,” I mumble, but I can’t stop my fingers from tracing the prominent online of his pecs just like they did earlier. And just like earlier, I can’t help the squeeze of my gut when I remember how good he looked topless in the pool. All wet and muscular and tan. Pretty sure I had it all wrong. Jax isn’t the Greek god I’ve made him out to be, Spencer is.