by Shana Norris
“What are you doing home?” Jude asked.
The woman’s head snapped toward him, her face scrunched into a scowl. I could see the glassiness in her eyes and the redness that rimmed them.
“My boss is a jackass,” the woman slurred.
I knew that tone. I knew the lazy tongue that mangled the words, the giggle as she stumbled again and almost lost her balance. I knew the smell that stung my nose as it filled the room around us. Icy tendrils spread through me and my teeth chattered, a sharp contrast to the heat and electricity I had felt only moments before.
“You got fired again, didn’t you?”
The woman laughed. “He only thinks he fired me. I quit. I don’t want to work for a jack—”
“So what?” Jude asked, crossing his arms. “You thought you’d spend the last bit of your paycheck at the bar?”
“I was out with my friends.”
“What about the water bill, Mom?” Jude asked through clenched teeth. “What about the mortgage? Did you happen to think that we might need that money you were drinking away?”
“Sorry, Dad,” the woman said as she fell into a chair at the small table. She spotted me over his shoulder and squinted. “Whozzat?”
“My friend,” Jude said.
Mrs. Westmore raised her eyebrows, pointing a finger at Jude. “I know what you’re doing. You expected me to be at work so you’d know when to sneak your girlfriend in here. This is my house, Jude. Don’t bring your little sluts in here—”
Jude flew across the room, hovering over his mother. I flinched, but Jude only stood there, glaring down at her.
“Apologize,” he said.
Mrs. Westmore sneered at him. “You’re the one who should apologize. Look at you. You’re nothing. Unemployed. Sleeping around with anyone who gives you the time of day. Liam would be ashamed.”
Jude’s face paled and his jaw twitched. His fists clenched at his sides, but he still only continued to stare at the woman seated at the table. She fumbled in her pocket until she found a crushed pack of cigarettes and pulled one out, pinching it between her cracked lips.
“What’d you tell her to get her here?” Mrs. Westmore’s eyes darted as she tried to focus on us. “That you love her?” She snorted and then flicked her lighter, but the flame wouldn’t stay long enough for her to light the cigarette. “You’re no better than your father. Everyone wants something until they get it, and then they don’t care anymore.”
Everyone wants something. The same words, in my father’s voice. Don’t let anyone have the upper hand.
Jude’s shoulders shook a little, but he took a deep breath. “Come on, Hannah.”
I hesitated as I looked at Jude’s outstretched hand. The chattering in my teeth had turned into trembling in my shoulders. The fire and electricity inside me had been replaced by ice as I looked at Mrs. Westmore, swaying a little in her chair. Her eyes were too glassy and vacant to look right at me, but I felt like she could see through me. Like she could see the taint of my parents on me, the touch of Jude’s hands on my body, every secret I tried to hide was there in the open for her take in.
It was fate that she had come home when she had. She had saved me from revealing everything to Jude and from doing something I knew I would regret later.
Jude slipped his hand into mine, squeezing it tight as if he needed to hold on to me. When we reached the door, he stopped and looked back at his mom.
“I’m not the only one Liam would be ashamed of,” he told her.
Outside, we returned to the real world. Cigarette smoke burned my lungs along with the crashing waves of shame.
Never lose control. Maintain the image of perfection. If reality isn’t the way you want it to be, create your own. My mom had had it right all along. The old rules weren’t just for her, they were to keep me from getting myself into situations like the one I was in.
“I’ll take you home,” Jude said, starting down the steps.
But I pulled my hand from his, my entire body trembling. What was I doing there? I didn’t belong with Jude. I had told him too many secrets, let him in too close. I had let my guard down even though I had sworn long ago to never trust someone that much again. It had almost all come crashing down around me. I had to get back in control.
“Hannah?” Jude asked, his face still flushed and his lips red. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “We can’t . . . I can’t do this.”
“Hannah.” Jude reached for me, but I jumped back, holding my hands up as a barrier between us.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t stand to see the hurt and confusion I knew would be in his gray eyes. “I need to go home now.”
I hurried down the steps, back to solid ground as quickly as I could, hoping that my trembling legs could carry me the few blocks back to Aunt Lydia’s.
Chapter Fourteen
The familiar ringtone started up again and my phone buzzed across the counter. I stared at it, but I didn’t move to answer. I knew it would stop after a few seconds—it had after the last ten calls I’d gotten that afternoon. I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see his name on the caller ID.
But every time I closed my eyes, I remembered the taste of his lips on mine and the smell of his soft skin pressed close to me. I remembered the way his strong hands on my back spread warmth along my body but made me shiver at the same time. Even now, I tingled at the thought of him.
I opened my eyes, forcing the memory out of my head. Jude and I didn’t belong together. I’d go back to Willowbrook at the end of the summer and he’d stay in Asheville. We had different lives, different expectations. There was no reason to pretend that Jude could be anything other than a temporary infatuation.
And what if we were together? Mom and Dad would never accept him. There was no way I could tell him that my dad was really alive and in rehab. Thinking of how he would feel if he knew I’d been lying this whole time about having a dead father made my chest tighten up like a fist.
Control. I needed to get back in control of myself.
“Hannah?”
I jumped at the sound of Aunt Lydia’s voice behind me. She had been up in her studio and I hadn’t heard her come back down. Wisps of hair fell from her messy bun and a smudge of red paint dotted her chin. She looked disheveled, but in a good way—like she’d been so absorbed in her work that she couldn’t be bothered to even push her hair out of her eyes.
“Are you going to answer that?” She nodded toward the phone that still buzzed across the counter.
I looked at it, but the ringtone finally died and the phone fell silent again.
“I thought maybe you had left and forgotten your phone here,” Aunt Lydia explained as she sat down in the barstool next to me. She pushed up the sleeves of her paint-splotched shirt, revealing a swatch of freckles. “I could hear it ringing up in the attic.”
“Sorry.” I pulled my knees closer to my chest, hugging my arms around them. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Aunt Lydia shook her head. “It’s okay. I wasn’t getting much work done anyway.”
“Doesn’t look that way.”
She smiled, then sighed, then looked back at my phone. “So, may I ask whose calls you’re not answering? Your mom’s?”
“No.” I rested my chin on my knees and frowned. “Jude’s.”
Aunt Lydia raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. Outside, birds chirped from the trees around the house, their song filtering in like the sunlight through the open window over the sink. The few clouds in the sky looked like perfect white cotton. Everything seemed normal, but inside I was a mess.
After a moment, Aunt Lydia stood. “I feel like having some ice cream.” She pulled a carton from the freezer and then two spoons from a drawer. She sat back down and positioned the carton on the counter between us. Moose Tracks. Aunt Lydia and I used to always eat Moose Tracks ice cream whenever I stayed at her house back in Willowbrook. We’d set up sleeping bags on the living ro
om floor, watch funny movies, and eat a whole carton of ice cream.
I picked up a spoon and hungrily scooped up some ice cream.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve done this,” Aunt Lydia said.
I swallowed the ice cream, licking chocolate off the spoon. “Do you ever miss Willowbrook?” I asked.
Aunt Lydia ran her spoon around the edge of the carton. She always used to say that was where the best ice cream was, the parts where it softened first.
“I miss you,” she said, looking up at me. “I miss your mom. Not the person she is now, but the person she used to be, in those moments when she stopped trying to be perfect. I miss this.” She gestured between us with her spoon.
I took another bite of ice cream, letting it melt in my mouth before swallowing. “Why did you leave? You moved so suddenly. What happened?”
She thought for a moment between bites. “Sometimes you have to get away to find what you really want.” She put a hand over mine. “It has nothing to do with you, I promise. It’s me. I thought a change of scenery would be good for me.”
“Was it?” I asked.
Aunt Lydia sighed. “I don’t know.”
My phone lit up again, the ringtone echoing throughout the room. We both stared at it. There was Jude’s name, in big letters across the screen.
“Did he do anything to hurt you?” Aunt Lydia asked.
I shook my head. It wasn’t Jude. It was my own fault for letting things go too far. I needed to stay away from him for a little while—get away like Aunt Lydia did—and sort out all the thoughts in my head.
“Okay,” Aunt Lydia said. “Then let me give you some advice based on what I’ve learned over the years. Sometimes you have to face your problem head on and deal with it.”
I sighed as I scooped up a big spoonful of ice cream. “I’m not ready to deal with it.”
“Sooner or later, you have to answer the phone.” Aunt Lydia tilted her head. “Aren’t you and Jude meeting Ashton for the fireworks tonight?”
I groaned and dropped my head onto my hands. “I forgot about that.”
The phone continued to chime for another minute. I’d have to change my ringtone soon. Hearing the same sound over and over was making me hate it.
“Well,” Aunt Lydia said, “maybe you can think about that later. Right now, we need to eat this ice cream.”
I sat up and gave her a grateful smile. “That sounds like the right idea.”
#
“Where’s Jude?”
I slid into Ashton’s passenger seat and buckled the seat belt in place before answering. “I don’t know. Looks like it’s just me tonight. Sorry.”
I felt Ashton looking at me, but I didn’t meet her gaze. I had called and asked her to pick me up a little early. Jude had given up calling, but I wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t try to come by the house. I figured if he saw my car in the driveway, he’d think I was still home and wouldn’t look for me at the park where we’d planned to meet Ashton and the others.
“Everything okay?” Ashton asked as she pulled away from the curb.
I nodded. “It’s fine. We just decided to do our own things tonight.”
Ashton reached over and changed the radio station as we left Aunt Lydia’s neighborhood. It was some screechy song backed by what sounded like way too many guitars. Judging by Ashton’s enthusiastic head bobbing, I guessed she liked it, so I sat back and tried to enjoy it, too. But Jude kept popping into my head, distracting me from the music. My summer in Asheville was supposed to be relaxing, but I had only made things complicated. I felt like one of those girls who couldn’t breathe without being obsessed with a guy, and I didn’t like the feeling.
We drove through an old brick tunnel and when we came out the other side, Asheville opened up before us, rising from the lush green valley like it had always been there, a natural part of the mountain view. I smiled and leaned out the window to take in the city. Homes broke through the trees that lined the mountains, and the hills dipped down between brown museums and shops. Taking in the city from that angle made it easier to stop thinking too much about Jude, my mom, Willowbrook. How often did I sit and look at things without thinking about what I needed to do next?
Ashton parked her car and immediately shoved a pile of blankets into my arms. She cracked up as I struggled to balance the blankets and my purse while not tripping over everything in my path as we tried to find Kate and Carter. The park was already full of people; families sat together on blankets and couples walked hand in hand as they waited for the fireworks show to start. A band played on a stage and some people sat listening while others danced around them. We finally found Kate and Carter sitting on a low stone wall. I dropped everything and wrapped Kate in a tight hug.
“Hey!” Kate said. “Where’s Jude?”
I shrugged. “He’s not coming tonight.”
Kate frowned. “Why not?”
“Why is everyone so concerned about Jude?” I snapped.
Kate flinched. “Sorry.”
I shook my head and looked down at my feet. The old Hannah would have snapped back without feeling remorse, but now I felt terrible for getting annoyed with her. “He has other plans,” I said. “That’s all.”
“That’s okay,” Carter said. “I don’t mind being the only guy with three hot chicks.” He slung his arm over Ashton’s shoulder and grinned.
It was obvious he liked her. And if he couldn’t tell that she liked him from the way her entire face turned red at his comment, he had to be an idiot. I didn’t understand what was keeping them back. Why couldn’t they just admit how they felt and move on to the next step before they let things get weird?
Music pumped all around us. Vendors sold lemonade and hot dogs, and so we stopped to get some. Grease filled my mouth as I bit into my hot dog. It definitely wasn’t the organic kind my mom always bought, and most certainly not kosher. But I loved it anyway.
Kate spread a blanket on an available space of grass on a hill. We sat down, with Carter sitting closer to Ashton than was necessary.
“What’s your favorite fireworks show ever?” Ashton asked.
“Oh,” Kate said, her eyes wide. “The one they did when we were in fifth grade. Remember that? The band played along with a bunch of Disney songs. It was so epic!”
“Yeah, when we were ten,” Ashton laughed.
“I liked last year’s,” Carter said. “The best ones are the loudest. I swear they echoed through the mountains.”
“What about you, Hannah? Do you guys do fireworks in Willowbrook?” Ashton asked, turning to me.
I reddened, thinking back over the fireworks shows I had seen—New Year’s in London, Fourth of July in New York.
“When I was eight, my friends Avery and Elliott and I camped out in my backyard on the Fourth of July,” I said. “We didn’t want to go to the mall to watch the fireworks with everyone else, we just wanted to watch them at home, in our tent. We made s’mores in the microwave and played outside all afternoon. Funny thing is, we ended up falling asleep in the tent before the fireworks started. We were all startled awake when the first one exploded in the sky.” I laughed. “I’ve never seen Elliott look so freaked out.”
The others laughed with me. I had forgotten about that memory until then. It made me sad to think about how the three of us barely spoke to each other anymore.
“Hannah,” a voice startled me out of my thoughts.
Jude stood over me, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a firm line. My gaze focused on that mouth, those soft lips I knew so well. My own lips tingled at the sight of them and the memory of his kiss.
I swallowed, fighting back the sensations exploding inside me. “What are you doing here?”
He waved a hand. “It’s a public park.”
I turned away from him. “I don’t want to talk right now, Jude.”
“Hannah,” Jude said again. He bent down and looked into my eyes, his expression and voice softening. “Please.”
I c
ouldn’t look at him. I didn’t trust myself to do the right thing, the smart thing. I couldn’t start something with him just to hurt him in the end. Talking to him would make things even more complicated.
“Just go,” I said in a hoarse voice.
“Please, Hannah, just talk to me for two minutes.” Jude asked quietly.
“She said go away.” Carter stood and stepped between Jude and me.
Jude looked him up and down, dismissing him. “This isn’t your business, Hawthorne. Get out of my face.”
“I will when you leave,” Carter told him through clenched teeth. “We’re trying to have a good time here. We don’t want any problems.” Ashton and Kate both stood up, too. Ashton put a tentative hand on Carter’s shoulder, but it fell away as Carter stepped closer to Jude. Kate put an arm around Ashton, cautiously pulling her closer and away from the boys.
“Maybe I do.” Jude shoved Carter’s chest, making him stumble backward a step.
“Jude, don’t—” I started, but Carter cut me off.
“Don’t start this, Jude.”
Jude held his arms out to his sides. “You know you’ve been waiting for the chance to get even with me for your uncle. You think I stole the money, just like they all do. Come on, Hawthorne. Now’s your chance.”
Carter shook his head, turning his back to Jude. “You’re full of—”
Before any of us could react, Jude lunged at Carter, swinging his fist and hitting him in the side of his head. The two tumbled down and onto our blanket.
“Oh my god!” Ashton shrieked, staring wide-eyed at the two guys. “Jude, stop!”
But neither one seemed to hear her and if they did, they didn’t care. Arms swung and the smack of fists meeting flesh sounded loud in my ears, despite the music that still pumped through the park. The people nearest us had stopped their conversations and watched, their mouths hanging open.
Kate looked at me, her eyes panicked. Her nails dug into Ashton’s arm. “Make him stop!”
My head was swimming; I didn’t know what to do. Jump in the middle of them? Somehow keep Jude from pummeling the hell out of Carter’s face?