“You’re cold,” Nick says, and he clears his throat. “Let’s get you in the car.” His voice is low and his actions swift as he opens the passenger door for me.
“Thanks,” I whisper and climb inside. I think about the past ten years and how many times I’ve both despised Nick and wished he was mine. Now, here we are. Two people who are more than acquaintances, but have never been friends. And he’s the one who found my brother.
Rubbing the warmth back into my legs and arms, I turn around to find Jesse’s eyes on me from the backseat. It happens so rarely, I can always feel his gaze. Watching. Wondering. Processing.
He looks away when my eyes meet his dark blue ones, but I know the way his mind works—everything is a puzzle that needs to be solved, a chronology of memories that lead to a single moment. Everything is a question he wants to ask or that he works to solve himself. I just don’t know what he’s processing now or what he’s deciding.
“Let’s get you home, J,” I say, turning back to the front. I shut my eyes against the heat pumping in from the vents, and chills trickle over my skin as warmth envelops me.
Nick climbs into the driver seat and quickly shuts the door. “So, where to?” He pulls his seatbelt over his shoulder and runs the windshield wipers to brush off the bits of fallen snow.
“Home,” I breathe out, as Jesse speaks over me, “Denny’s.”
I turn around to look at him. “Excuse me?”
Jesse looks at the clock. “I still want an ice cream.”
“A hot fudge sundae does sound primo right about now,” Nick muses and looks at me, expectant. “Besides, it’s New Year’s.”
“I think we’ve earned it. Don’t you?”
Spending more time with Nick feels significant, and I’m not sure that it’s a good idea.
Then, Nick smiles at me.
With two sets of eyes staring back at me, waiting, I can’t possibly say no. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”
Nick
“What’s your favorite,” Jesse asks between spoonfuls of hot fudge. It’s all over his lips and he’s got a little on his cheek, but Bethany just sits there, smiling at him, laughing and happy. She’s relieved, I think. “The Last Crusade, Temple of Doom, Raiders of the Lost Ark, or Crystal Skull?”
“You know all of the Indiana Jones movies?” I ask, surprised. “Aren’t those a bit before your time?”
Jesse’s brow furrows as he stares into his ice cream dish. He shrugs. “I like all movies.”
“All movies?” I clarify. I wonder what this kid watches with his free time, other than Jurassic Park.
He shrugs again, more of an inability to sit still than out of indifference, I think. “A lot of movies.”
“Jesse’s a movie buff,” Bethany explains.
“I’m starting to get that. Well, in that case, Crusade, hands down.”
Bethany frowns down at her phone as it buzzes on the table. I get the impression she’s texting her parents, but I haven’t asked.
“That one’s all right.” Jesse’s brow is still furrowed, like he’s deep in thought as he watches the fudge dripping off his spoon.
“Just all right? The Last Crusade is epic. The Holy Grail—Sean Connery . . . It’s a classic.”
“You are a smidge older than him,” Bethany teases, finally peering up from her phone as she drops it into her purse. “What’s considered classic is sort of relative, right?”
I shake my head. “I’m disappointed in you. Classic is classic, there’s a difference between what’s currently ‘cool’ and what’s ‘classic.’”
Jesse doesn’t bother looking up at us. I’m beginning to pick up on a pattern with him, so I don’t take it personally that he doesn’t really look at me. At least he’s not tapping on the table anymore, which makes me feel better, like maybe he’s warming up to me a bit more.
“Cool verses classic, huh?” Bethany says with amusement. “You seem very certain of this.”
I shrug. “Of course I am.” I drop my spoon in my dish and sit back in the booth. “Queen, the best band of all time, is classic; and The Goonies movie is another classic, one I think even you would like, Jesse, since you’re so keen on adventure.” It’s a harmless dig, but true given his midnight outing and penchant for taking off once in a while. “And of course, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is a motion picture classic to everyone.”
“Maybe to people born in the 90s,” Jesse clarifies and he finally looks up at me.
Eyes wide, I gape at him, then at Bethany. “A sense of humor? I didn’t see that one coming.”
“Sometimes,” she says. She smiles and runs her fingers through his brown hair.
Though Jesse doesn’t seem to take much notice to her attention, I get the feeling she’s the one person in the world he probably cares most about. There’s something calming in the way they are together, putting Jesse more at ease. I’ve only been drip-fed information about her parents over the years, but they seem like cold-hearted ass-hats. And, after tonight, learning how careless they’ve been with Jesse, I doubt his relationship with them is half as easy as his relationship with his sister.
He stares thoughtfully at his sundae. “They were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame,” he says, catching me off guard.
“Who was, Queen?” I ask, and lean my elbows on the table. “How do you know that?”
“And they received the Lifetime Achievement Award this year at the Grammys.”
I look at Bethany, who’s smiling from ear to ear. “I told you, he loves pop culture.”
Chuckling, I lean toward him a little bit. “And how is it that you know so much about Queen—wait, how do you know who Queen is at all?”
He glances at Bethany. “My sister listens to them sometimes,” he explains. “She listens to a lot of music.”
My eyes widen with surprise. “Does she, now? I had no idea.” I look at Bethany and our eyes meet for a brief moment. “This gets more interesting by the second.”
Bethany rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. It can’t be that surprising. You barely know anything about me.”
“I guess.” I know enough, though. I know that every time I think I have her figured out, she throws me a curveball, and that every time I tell myself I’m done thinking about her, she does something surprising that hooks me in again, making thoughts of her inescapable.
I lean back in the booth, my sundae long gone. “All right then, so you guys are awesome and like my favorite band, but what about this Indiana Jones business?” Watching Jesse lick his fingers, I settle in for another debate. “Which is your favorite—wait, let me guess . . . Raiders of the Lost Ark?”
Jesse’s blue eyes meet mine and hold for a brief second. “How’d you know that?”
Suppressing a triumphant smile, I shrug. “Maybe a lucky guess. Or, maybe I figured that since you like dinosaurs”—I nod to his Jurassic Park shirt—“you’re partial to the snake scene—reptiles, that sort of thing.”
Jesse smiles a little, but I’ve lost his gaze again. “Yeah, you’re right.”
I clap my hands together. “What can I say, nothing gets by me.”
“But,” Jesse continues, “paleontologists say dinosaurs were a mix between warm and cold blood. So, they weren’t actually reptiles, like snakes.”
Bethany smiles again, with pride this time, and shakes her head. She’s beautiful when she’s like this, when she opens up and lets her walls down. It’s her crinkled, stormy gray eyes that have stuck with me all these years, making it nearly impossible to forget about her, no matter how many times I’ve tried.
“So, you’re a smart guy, huh?” I say. “I dig it.”
Jesse shrugs. “I read a lot.” He stirs what’s left of his sundae around in his glass.
My phone buzzes on the table beside me, and Savannah’s name fills the screen. I frown down at it. “Uh . . . Give me a sec, would you?” I look at Bethany, whose eyes are on me as I excuse myself from the table and make my way to the door.
I answer
the call as I step outside. “Hello?”
“Hey!” Savannah shouts, laughing into the phone. It’s her drunken laugh, her happy laugh. “Happy New Year, Nicky!”
I let out a relieved breath, glad she’s just tipsy and not crying or depressed on the other end. Leaving Saratoga Falls—me, her job, and her friends—to go back home to take care of her parents has been more difficult for her than she’d expected, and for me, if I’m honest. “Happy New Year, Red. Where are you?”
“Umm, I’m at a bar in Hannington Beach with a couple of new acquaintances. It’s my new hangout. What about you? Is Brady being a mean ol’ bastard and making you work all night or did he let you off the hook to meet up with Mac for New Year’s?”
I glance inside the restaurant, through the window at Jesse and Bethany as they sit, tucked away at our booth. “I’m at Denny’s, actually, of all places.”
She laughs. “That’s . . . unexpected.”
“Yeah, it is.” Savannah has no idea.
There’s movement on her end, and she’s huffing and puffing before the commotion dies down in the background. “I miss you, Nick,” she says quietly. “I just—I wanted to hear your voice. It’s weird being here, when I really just want to be there, with you.”
I clear my throat, the timing of her call while Bethany is inside, waiting for me, shrinks the world in around me a little, and I feel uncomfortable. “You didn’t want to do the long-distance thing, remember?”
“Yeah, but . . .” she sighs. “That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I knew how hard this would be.”
I peer out at the dark street, watching what few cars are on the road pass, at a loss for words. We’ve gone around and around about this so many times, and it always ends the same. We try it out, it’s too hard for her, so we put an end to it. We take some time apart and somehow, we keep ending up where we started. I can’t do it anymore. As much as I care about her, I need some sanity too. “It’ll just—it’ll take time to get used to everything,” I tell her. I feel like a broken record, but she’s buzzed, and I’m not sure anything I say will matter all that much. “But I’m glad you called, and I’m glad you’re having fun . . . You deserve that, at least.”
“It’s not the same though,” she says sadly.
Shoving my cold, free hand into my pocket, I glance inside again to meet Bethany’s curious gaze. She quickly looks away and brings her phone to her ear.
“Nick,” Savannah says, “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Savannah.”
“Do you, really?” she asks hesitantly. “You sound . . . different tonight.”
“Yes, of course I miss you, but this is how things are now.” You’re the one who left.
Whether it’s my tone or that she knows deep down this isn’t a helpful conversation to be having, she finally says, “You’re right. I’ll let you go.” After an exhale, she adds, “Happy New Year, Nick. Tell everyone I say hi, would you?”
“Of course I will . . . Happy New Year.”
We hang up after a few seconds pause, and just as I’m about to head inside, the door swings open and Bethany and Jesse step outside, adjusting their coats.
“What’s up?” I ask, glancing inside to see what the rush is all about. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. We just need to get home. My mom’s worried.” There’s an unexpected distance to Bethany’s voice and all the walls she’d let down earlier, all the laughing and openness, is gone. “I already paid, so you don’t have to worry about it.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“It was Jesse’s idea to come here, and it’s the least I can do for all your help tonight.” She flashes me a smile, but it’s a smokescreen. The distance she’s putting between us is too reminiscent of the past. I don’t like it, not after everything that’s happened tonight.
“Our ride’s here,” she says and gently urges Jesse toward a blue sedan parked at the curb. “Climb in where it’s warm, J.” Her tone brooks no argument as she pulls her blonde hair out of the collar of her jacket.
“So, you’re leaving, just like that?” I’m not sure if I’m more upset or confused.
“I need to get Jesse home,” she says, digging around in her purse. “It’s late, and my parents—well . . .” She shrugs.
“They didn’t seem too worried earlier,” I remind her.
She’s tapping something into her phone as she walks to the sedan.
“Hey—” I say, and reach for her arm. “What’s with you all of the sudden?”
Finally, she looks at me. Her lips are pursed and her delicate eyebrows are drawn together. “Thank you for your help tonight, Nick. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I mean that.” But her brow furrows even more and she gets into the car without another word and shuts the door.
Just as suddenly as she appeared in my life this evening, she disappears again. And like always, I’m left standing there with my mind spinning and the all too familiar sting of disappointment.
Seven Years Ago
“See. I told you it was a good idea to come.” Walking into the kitchen, in a new track home with fancy furniture and large rooms I’ve never been in before, I peer around at the swarm of people, appraising the party. Everyone is here—the jocks, the skaters, the theater geeks—but it’s not surprising; it’s the first party this school year. With a couple pre-game beers already in me, I smile at the possibilities. Baseball . . . girls . . . beer. . . If this party is any indication of how Junior year will be, I’m already loving life. “This place is crackin’.”
“Sure it is,” Reilly grumbles behind me, but I just smile at his typical Reilly response, Mr. All-American Good Boy, who doesn’t like living anywhere near the edge. I don’t give him any grief, though. Knowing what he has to go home to every day, I don’t blame him for being less rebellious than the rest of us.
“You only live once, Rye. Try to have some fun. You’re staying at my house tonight, anyway, so you don’t have to worry about anything. My parents will be in bed by nine.” I pop a potato chip into my mouth. “Want a beer yet?”
With reluctance, Reilly nods, his eyes scanning the room like he’s looking for someone.
“Sam’s not here,” I tell him. “She and Mac don’t come to parties.” My words register, and I frown. “At least, I don’t think they do.” Now that they’re freshmen, I really don’t know what to expect. The pseudo big brother in me hopes they won’t come to the party, anyway. I shrug, grab Reilly a plastic cup, and pump the keg.
“Why would I be looking for Sam?” Reilly asks, but he’s an idiot if he thinks I don’t know there’s some sort of attraction between them lately. Either he’s trying to keep it from me for some reason or he’s in denial about it himself, so I leave it alone. “Go say hi to a girl and make her swoon or something. You don’t look like you’re having any fun.”
Reilly just rolls his eyes.
“Fine, be that way, but you’re the DD,” I tell him and shove his cup at his chest with a grin. The slow-as-molasses rate in which he pounds beer is embarrassing anyway. “I’m happy to be the delinquent for the night,” I say and pour one for myself.
Finally, Reilly gives up a smile, and despite my jokes and gibes, I allow myself to relax a little bit for the first time tonight. I just wish Reilly would have some fun, too. I want him to forget his life for just a little bit and be a teenager with me.
“So,” Reilly says above the surrounding conversation. “What’s up with you tonight?” He takes a sip from his cup and raises his eyebrow. I hate the eyebrow raise. It means he sees too much.
“What do you mean?” A guy bumps into me and I try not to spill my beer.
“You seem really into this party tonight. It’s weird.”
I laugh because it’s what I do. I laugh and play the role of the happy one. The jokester and tension-breaker who tries to keep the peace all the time. It gets exhausting, which is why I love nights li
ke this. “It’s my parents,” I grumble. “And Sam.”
Reilly takes a step closer. Ever the serious one, he leans in so I can hear him clearly above the music. “What do you mean?”
Shrugging, I take a drink of my beer, forcing myself not to grumble at the shift of the mood. It’s too much to get into with all the noise and the nasally, teeny-bopper voice emanating from the speakers, but Reilly won’t leave it alone if I don’t give him something. So, I hedge. “Sam and Aunt Alison are at it again,” I tell him. Although Reilly has been friends with Mac and Sam since elementary school, like I have, he’s missed a lot, on account of his dad being such a dick. So, over the years I’ve become the girls’ sounding board and confidante, especially now that my aunt and Sam’s dad are together.
“And your parents?” Reilly prompts, and all I can do is laugh.
“Nothing new there. My dad’s pressuring me about college. About my future at the firm.”
“No baseball scholarship then?”
I shrug his question away. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Opening my arms, I peer around the room. “We’re teenagers! Partying is an excuse to act our age.” My smile widens. “You should try it sometime.”
“Yeah, and go home to my drunk dad,” he mutters and takes a step back. I pretend I don’t hear him over the laughter and music, and I take another gulp of my beer.
I hate Reilly’s piece of shit dad, and I hate that Reilly is too proud to ditch his misery and live at my house. I hate that I have to accept it and that there’s nothing I can do to make his life even a little bit better. So, I chug the rest of my beer down, then pour myself another one.
“Hey, Reilly! Turner!” Rod Slinsky shouts from across the room. I nod as he bumps his way through the crowd toward us.
“Don’t indulge him tonight,” Reilly warns. “Slinsky’s a dirt bag.”
“Yeah, but he’s on the team. I can’t ignore him. Besides, he’s probably a lot more fun than you are tonight,” I say with an elbow to his side.
Told You So_A Saratoga Falls Love Story Page 2