“He did?” I couldn’t help smiling at the small glimpse into my brother’s younger years.
“Yeah, but he ended up confessing to me on the way to school and helped me black the whole thing out with magic marker before I turned it in.”
My smile grew. He was tenderhearted. I liked knowing that about Brandon.
“But we never inflicted long-running psychological damage on each other. You never told your sister?”
“About the bed-wetting? I’m waiting for the night before she gets married.”
“Girls are evil.”
“Yeah, well, remember that next time you think about tickling me.”
Chase ran a hand over his closely cropped hair. “Not much of a threat. But you can tell me not to tickle you again and I won’t.”
So fast, I said, “Don’t tickle me again.”
He half inclined his head. “Done.”
I edged out from behind the box, overly hesitating in my movement toward him, even though I believed him. “And you could apologize for the first time.”
He considered me. “You had it coming.”
“Mom jokes are not the same as tickle torturing. Not that it was a mom joke so much as a you joke.”
“I wouldn’t call what I did to you torture.”
I wasn’t behind the box at all anymore. “No? Then what would you call it?”
“An excuse to put my arms around you.”
Heat rushed my face the way it always did when Chase said something so direct. Another guy might have tickled me for the same reason, but he’d never have come right out and admitted it. He’d have equivocated or lied. I’d have equivocated or lied. I still wasn’t used to how forthright Chase was, or how much I liked it.
“And what excuse do you need to put your arms around this box of snow globes so I can get to the one below it?”
Apparently, my asking was all he needed.
* * *
The day yielded to night as we worked. Before I knew it, it was full dark and Chase and I had made a decent dent in the garage on one side. I was more careful reaching for higher boxes after the rock collection, testing the weight before pulling anything down. Even still, I underestimated one and took a few steps backward before I could steady the weight. Bent over his own box several feet away, Chase might have missed my hurried steps, but not the burst of sour notes that emanated from whatever I’d backed into.
Chase’s head turned in my direction.
“I swear I’m not this much of a wuss.” I worked out hard almost every day, and my arms had well-earned definition to them. But I kept expecting the boxes to be lighter than they were. I was being impatient, and my reward was that I got to look weak in front of Chase. I hated that. He tried to take the box from me, but I held on to it. “No, I’m fine. I got it.” I noticed then that the box had Cast Iron Skillets written on it. Yeah.
I added it to the pile of kitchen stuff for later sorting and turned back in time to see Chase whip a drop cloth off the upright piano I’d awakened. “It’s beautiful,” I said, admiring the rich mahogany wood.
“Yeah.” He was looking at the piano like he’d never seen one before. Or like he’d never wanted to see one again.
“You play?”
He shook his head.
“Your mom?”
Another head shake.
“So your tool of a father, then?”
Chase laughed once. “Yeah, it was his.” He finally broke his gaze away from the piano. “Can you play?”
I pulled out the bench that was nestled underneath, sat and flexed my fingers. “Six whole months of lessons when I was eight. Here.” I scooted to make room for Chase and tugged him down next to me. “Gimme your hand.” I spread his fingers out over the keys and covered them with my own. I pressed down on my thumb, then my index finger and then my pinkie, moving his with my own. Not easy since his hands were almost twice as big as mine, but we got it. I repeated those three notes a few times until Chase no longer needed my hand to guide him. “Keep doing that.” I moved my hands down and started playing without any kind of finesse, but Selena and I had played “Heart and Soul” so many times that it came pretty easily.
“Okay, this time, hit each key twice.” We played through the duet again and then again until I’d added every little flourish that I could remember and a few that I did not. It was stupid and fun and I was so glad to see that distant look gone from Chase’s face when we finished. “So what if the piano was his,” I said, sliding my hands from the black and white keys. “It’s not anymore. Make it yours if you want it.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” I stood up and Chase followed, his gaze never leaving me, but when I checked the bench for music, it was empty. I probably couldn’t have played anything anyway, but I would have tried just to show him he could too. Still, where there was a piano, there was sheet music. I started to turn and scan the nearby boxes, but Chase caught me with a hand, tugging me toward him until I had to tilt my head back to see his face. He didn’t bother with an excuse like when he’d tickled me. He wanted to put his arms around me, so he did. And when I stupidly didn’t move away, he urged me that half step closer that brought our bodies fully flush together. My pulse picked up, both from how close we were and from the unabashedly intense way he was looking at me.
“I hate this.” He gestured with his chin, taking in the whole garage. “Seeing how much she’s held on to is bad enough, but seeing his stuff...I almost want to break out your bats again, you know?”
I could feel each breath he made and knew he could feel mine. That warning voice I’d been steadily ignoring since we met had grown so dim by then, and it was nothing compared to the thunderous beating of my heart. “Play it or smash it. I’ll help you either way.”
He didn’t do that half-move guy thing where they start to lean in, hesitate, waiting for a go-ahead, before fully committing. Chase went right for it, barely giving me enough time for my stomach to rocket into my throat only to explode the second he brought his lips to mine. And then he pulled back almost before I could register—and revel—in the sensation. That same half smile lifted his mouth as he drew back, leaving his hand on the underside of my jaw a second longer before kissing me again.
Chapter 27
I slipped inside and upstairs with only seconds to spare on my curfew. I could have been home sooner, but I’d driven around after leaving Chase, vacillating between euphoric smiles and self-loathing scowls. Kissing him had been so wrong and wonderful and wrong again. By the time I gave my parents’ bedroom door the obligatory soft knock and “I’m home” that I was supposed to, my insides were tied up in so many knots that breathing was painful. I was hoping to make it to my room without either of them catching me in the hall, but I wasn’t quick enough. Dad pulled their door open before I was halfway to my room. He kept his voice low. Mom must have already been asleep.
“Hey, it’s late.”
Just hearing his voice made the knots constrict. “It’s before curfew.”
“You missed dinner again.”
“I texted Mom. She said it was fine.”
“I know. We just haven’t seen you much.”
I’d been trying to be home as little as possible, either from games or claiming that I was studying when I was actually with Chase. When I absolutely had to be home, I avoided all but the briefest contact with Dad. And he’d noticed.
“Yeah, well, Selena’s here, so it’s the same amount of people at the table.” I turned my back on him without so much as a good-night.
“Dana.”
I glanced back.
“I feel like I’ve done something wrong here.”
His words, the concern I could hear wrapped around each one, made me want to snarl and cry at the same time. Yes, you’ve done som
ething wrong, I wanted to say. You did it nearly twenty years ago and I don’t know how to look at you if you knew about your son and kept him from us, if I had a brother all this time who could have played the guitar with Selena or baseball with me, if it’s him you think about, him when you’re with me, and that’s why I never feel like I can catch you.
“I’m just tired,” I said, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in my voice or the nails I was digging into my palms. “Can I go to bed now?”
“All right.” He gestured a hand for me to go but stopped me with his words. “Tomorrow let’s runs some drills, okay?”
“Can’t.” I was facing my door, so he didn’t see the tears that stung my eyes. “I’m still studying for that Biology test. If you want to throw the ball with someone, ask Selena.” I took the last few steps to my room and shut the door behind me, blinking my eyes dry.
Selena was perched on the edge of the bed, and she stood as soon as I entered the room. She’d clearly overheard my exchange with Dad. “What’s with you lately?”
I ducked into the closet, rubbing away the rest of my unshed tears with my palms and noticing that my nails had broken the skin in a few places. “Nothing.”
“You’re being such a brat, especially with Dad.”
For a second my chin quivered again. Stop it! I told myself. “I’m not being anything other than tired. School, that thing you dropped out of, has been kicking my butt.” To support my claim, I shrugged off the schoolbag of books I’d brought with me to Chase’s, letting the heavy weight hit the ground with a thud.
“Yeah, that’s the other thing. When did you start lying straight to Mom and Dad’s face—and mine apparently—about where you go every day after practice?”
I turned and widened my eyes, both for show and because I thought I’d been doing a pretty good job with my cover stories. Apparently, I was wrong. “I don’t—”
“Yeah, you do. Are you honestly trying to tell me you’ve spent every free night this week with your Biology partner—the same guy you told me you broke—and you’re both so eager to see each other again—”
“It’s not about eager.” I launched myself into a righteous-indignation act, because the alternative was right there waiting to pour down my face if I let it. “You never had Mr. Rodriguez. His class is insane.” I moved around her to sit on the bed. “Why else would I willingly spend so much time with Nick?”
“There, right there!” She sat right in front of me, her finger pointing at my face. “That’s the other thing you’ve been doing. Nothing you just said is a lie. I’ve heard about Mr. Rodriguez’s class, so I believe you that it’s hard, and hanging out with a guy who probably can’t stand to be around you right now would be hard too, if you were actually spending all this time with him, but you’re not, are you?” She folded her legs so she could lean closer to me. “Ever since I moved back, you’ve been lying or saying things in a way that lets you tell the truth but still supports whatever lie you’ve already got going. Cut it out and find thirty minutes to play catch with Dad.”
I bit my lip and looked up so she couldn’t see how close I was to breaking. “Since when is catch with Dad thirty minutes? Maybe I’m like you. Maybe I’m starting to realize I don’t want softball to be my whole life either.”
“You’ve always liked softball more than me, so try again.”
“Fine, then how about the fact that it’s not catch with my dad, it’s drills with my coach!” I started to stand up when my voice cracked, but Selena pressed down on my knee.
“Dana...what?” Her tone had softened and I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
No one knew me better than my sister, not Nick, not even Jessalyn, no one. I’d been able to lie to Mom and Dad partially because I felt like I had no choice. I couldn’t confront him, possibly destroy him along with Mom—and finding out he had a son he never knew about would destroy him—without a shred of proof. Not even the website would back up my claims, since Brandon had deleted his account. But it was different with Selena. I couldn’t lie to her even when I tried.
I pulled away from her, wrapping my arm around myself as I walked toward the closet again. It was right there, right on the tip of my tongue to say it. Do you remember the DNA test I submitted for Dad? The one I told you came back a bust?
I heard the bed squeak as she stood and then her feet shuffling across the carpet as she came up behind me.
It wasn’t a bust. I found someone, Sel.
Her hand touched my shoulder. “What is it?”
In my head, I saw myself saying the words, letting them gush out of me. Dad has a son. Only it wouldn’t end there. Not my pain and not hers; hers would only be starting. She’d have to start walking past the family photos in the hallway and grow sicker each time, knowing someone was missing. She’d have to start watching our brother from a parked car thirty feet away and know she might never get any closer. She’d have to start looking at the father she’d always loved and wonder if he’d ever truly felt the same way about her.
She’d have to start feeling as wrecked as I felt every second of every day and know it might not get any better, that it might get so much worse.
And I could not do it.
I made myself groan as I stepped away from her touch, scrubbing my face as though in annoyance. “Nothing. I can’t be tired? You and Dad. Seriously, give me a break...”
“Tired?” she said, still a little soft, but weary too. “That’s all you are?”
I’d turned around to face her again, to show my sister what her ears alone wouldn’t believe. I locked my jaw tight and pressed my back into the closet doorknob, hard. I focused on the metal digging into my flesh and willed every inch of my face into a blank stare.
She looked at me, her eyes darting between mine so many times that I welcomed the dizziness they created. At last she stopped, her shoulders slumping as she made a sound of disgust. “I can’t even tell when you’re lying anymore, Dana.”
“I’m telling you the truth.” I moved back to the bed, sitting so that I was no longer facing her head-on. “And okay, fine, I’ve been hanging out with that guy I told you about. It’s the same thing you did with Gavin and singing. You kept part of your life from me and Mom and Dad. Are you telling me you never lied about what you were doing? Mom invited you home all the time, and you had excuses for her plenty of times.”
“But I was still here. I came to your games. I didn’t blow Dad off when he wanted to spend a measly half hour with me. You almost act like you’re punishing him for something.”
I went cold inside. “What could I punish Dad for?”
“I don’t know.” She tossed one hand to the side. “Is he not paying enough attention to you? Are you mad about a call at a recent game? Are you upset because you have to share him again now that I’m here?”
I don’t know if I want him at all anymore. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Well, then I don’t know what your deal is, but enough already.” Her phone buzzed on my dresser and she twisted around to glance at the screen. “And stop lying all the time. You’re getting to be pathological, and I have no idea where you got the idea that lying to your family is okay.”
“Because everyone else in this family is a beacon of truth?” The words scraped my throat.
“Compared to you, yeah. So cut it out. I’m not going to tell Mom and Dad about your guy, but you have to be around more.” She got up to check the message and smiled at whatever she saw. “And you can start tomorrow after the game when you meet Gavin.”
Chapter 28
I leaped onto Sadie’s back as Ivy and Jessalyn collided into her from the front. We were a tangle of arms and I had no idea how we stayed standing.
“No-hitter!” I yelled. “Sadie!”
She couldn’t help laughing, even under the onslaught of so many of her teammates sur
ging to congratulate her. “I did it!”
I laughed at the surprise in her voice. “Yeah, you did.” I shook her shoulders, hugged her again from behind. We’d won our game, and not just any game, our first sectional. There were only two more until the state finals. Two more games that we had a solid shot at winning. We’d all played well, but Sadie had been unstoppable. Strike after strike after strike. It had almost been like watching Selena again. If Sadie continued to pitch half as well and the rest of us held our own, we weren’t just going to the finals—we would take the whole damn thing.
Jessalyn caught my eye, sending that live wire of elation sparking inside us. I grinned back—for the moment, nothing else mattered.
“You were amazing,” Ivy said. “I thought about just sitting down that last inning.”
“It was Coach,” Sadie said, deflecting praise the way she always did. “He and Selena practiced with me all last week.” She laughed. “I think my shoulder is going to fall off, but I don’t even care.”
I frowned, looking first at our coach, who was beaming at Sadie, and then to where Selena had been cheering in the stands. Selena had never said she and Dad were helping Sadie. I was glad for Sadie and our team—who better to finesse her pitching than the greatest pitcher our school had ever seen—but the sparking inside me dimmed.
Someone knocked hard into my shoulder, and a deafening scream passed my ear as Selena charged into the knot of girls to get to Sadie.
“No one has pitched like that since—”
“You!” Sadie said, hugging my sister.
“Okay, fine, but I wouldn’t want to have to hit your curveball. I thought Amanda’s catcher’s mitt was going to catch fire! Amazing.” Selena hugged Sadie again and whispered something in her ear that made our pitcher flush with delight.
“I will. And thank you!”
Selena joined me when I headed back to the dugout. “How about that?” She grinned in Sadie’s direction.
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