by PJ Sharon
His lips curved into a smile. “I don’t usually say things I don’t mean.”
“So how do you see this working?” I asked, my stomach flopping when his dimples deepened and his eyes bore holes through mine.
“We’ll be about a three hour ride away from each other. During the week we can call and text, and maybe on the weekends, I can come visit you. Or you could come see me. You’ll be getting your license soon, right?”
I didn’t want to cement my loser status with Ethan by showing my doubt, so I simply shrugged and shifted the conversation. “I could always take the train into New York and we could meet there.”
He nodded, his smile faltering slightly. “It’s only for a year or so. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other better.”
Warmth spread through my chest at the thought. I leaned my head onto his shoulder and looked out over the sparkling waters far below. A warm breeze blowing up the mountainside brought the smell of the sea. “I’m not looking forward to going back...home, I mean.” My voice trailed off on the wind. “As worried as I am about my mom, the thought of having to face my life there gives me hives.”
Ethan chuckled. “That bad, huh? Have you heard from her?”
I had explained my mother’s fragile mental state and Ethan was more than understanding. I was certain he would wonder if the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree and that I might be infected with mental instability by association, but he’d been cool about the whole thing and seemed concerned only for how it affected me.
“Nope. Maddie said Mom would call when the doctor said it was okay. As hard as things have been between us lately, I have to admit I miss her. I need to know she’s all right.” I raised my head, and Ethan wrapped a strong arm around my shoulder as he studied my expression.
“She’ll be okay. She just needs some time. I bet she misses you, too.”
His warm smile infused me with a rush of contentment and a sense that whatever he said must be right. I wanted more than anything to believe him, to trust in someone else’s judgment of the situation—my own being totally impacted by my guilt.
“I’m not sure my going home is going to be all that much help to her. I seem to be making things worse.”
“Maybe if you try not breaking every rule,” he said, releasing me and taking my hand again, a small smirk pulling his lips.
I punched him in the arm. “Not you, too?”
He rubbed his arm, a mock look of pain on his face. “No judgment here.” His free hand came up in a gesture of surrender. “I’m only trying to help. If you want things to be better at home, you might need to think about making a few changes. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Like finding new friends, focusing on school, and being more responsible?” I mimicked Mitch’s deep throated voice, raising another chuckle from Ethan.
“Something like that.”
“Everyone is pressuring me to be someone I’m not. I’ll never be Valedictorian or a cheerleader. I’m not smart like...Amanda was,” I said, my voice growing soft. The afternoon sun had passed its peak and dipped toward the sea, its reflection arcing across the water and setting the surface on fire.
“I don’t think anyone wants you to be like your sister. Obviously, she wasn’t so perfect, right?”
“Maybe so,” I conceded for the first time. Ethan rubbed my knuckles in slow strokes with his thumb, making my brain feel fuzzy and light.
“As weird as it sounds, I think parents mostly want us to be the best version of ourselves we can be.” He laughed lightly. “I’ve heard it’s their job to turn us into useful members of society and make sure we don’t turn out to be serial killers. It might reflect badly on them.”
“You mean my juvenile delinquent status is a reflection of my parents’ failure? We can’t have that now, can we?” I lifted my head, giving him an amused grin.
Ethan pressed his lips to the back of my hand, sending another flutter to my heart. When he looked up, his eyes, deep green as the sea, shone bright in the sunlight. “If it were up to me, I would say don’t change a thing. But I think life has a lot less drama if you don’t try to swim against the tide all the time.”
“Why do you even like me,” I asked, my voice dropping to just above a whisper.
“I don’t know.” Seeing my eyes grow wide, he rushed to continue. “It’s not just one thing...you’re smarter, prettier, and way more talented than you think. I could see it the first time we met...well...maybe the second time,” he grinned. You try to hide behind that edgy front you put on, but I see past it. Underneath all that unpredictability and fiery emotion, there’s someone who wants to do the right thing and just be happy.”
I drew a deep breath and sighed it out, wondering if maybe he really did know me better than I knew myself. Pushing aside the fear of disappointing him, I focused instead on the warm rush of emotion that filled my chest, knowing that he believed in me with such certainty.
One thing was clearer than ever. If I wanted a future that included Ethan I would apparently have to work for it—literally. Finding a job that would pay me enough to save what I needed to get a car, and taking my driving test again was first on my agenda when I returned home. Hopefully, my brush with the law and completing the mandatory drug classes I had to endure for twelve weeks wouldn’t derail my plan. Then again, finding someone to hire me under the circumstances wouldn’t be an easy task. I definitely had my work cut out for me. Another long sigh escaped me.
Ethan’s fingers snuggled tightly between mine and the heat of his body leaning against my shoulder seeped into my bones—as if we were melting into one. A new sensation of connection eased the ache in my heart and I had a moment to consider—whatever it took, the chance at a future with Ethan was totally worth it.
Chapter 26
The next few days were a whirlwind of activity and adventure as we explored the Greek Islands. Our first stop was Corfu, also called Kerkira, Greece. Our guide was Mika, a pretty young woman with long black hair and dark eyes, five months pregnant and radiant. She took us to a monastery with breathtaking views of the Ionian Sea.
Grapevines hanging on trellises created shade as we followed the granite pathways—polished by age—down to the lower level monk’s quarters. Here, men gave their lives for the sole purpose of transcribing ancient texts, a pursuit I found fascinating and horrifying all at once. The thought of spending an entire lifetime translating and writing someone else’s story in perfect brush strokes with no erasers seemed like torture, but I was completely in awe of their dedication and skill. The walkways were lined with gardens of basil—known as the royal herb, according to Mika—and jasmine—the combination fragrant and slightly medicinal. The smell of the ancient parchment took over once we entered the museum filled with centuries-old books. The atmosphere gave the sense we’d been transported back in time.
Later, as we traveled by bus through the historic town, Venetian style buildings marked the Italian influence of year’s past, with airy balconies, wrought iron railings, and especially ornate window grilles. We stopped to visit the city square where the wide granite streets, smoothed from hundreds of years of wear, provided an open air feel to the village, and narrow limestone side streets were lined with boutiques and restaurants. Maddie insisted we stop in and spread some more cash to help the local economy.
Lunch of Spanakopita, hummus, and falafel clarified that we were indeed in Greece and made me commit to finding authentic Greek restaurants back in Connecticut. Nutty, earthy herbs, and tangy sauces infused the food. As I vowed to introduce Mom and Mitch to my newfound taste for Greek cuisine, I thought of all I’d left behind. The ache of homesickness sank a little deeper.
I had anticipated missing my friends, but the sense of helplessness I felt when I thought of Mom struck me as foreign. I’d only been away for two weeks, but knowing she was in a hospital, all messed up about Amanda and thinking I was a lost cause, made my insides hurt. I had been so self-absorbed in my own grief—unable to face the de
pth of anyone else’s pain—that I had missed how close to the edge she’d been. I’d screwed up big time, made things worse for her, and I had no idea how to fix it—or even if I could.
∞∞∞
The next day we landed at Katacolon, home of ancient Olympia and origin of the Olympic Games. Massive ruins melted one into another and the full day of walking, listening to our guide, and taking more pictures than we could possibly ever look at, took its toll on Maddie. She sat on a bench in the shade of an olive tree while Ethan and I ran the length of the Olympic field. Dust rose up around us, and I imagined the buzz of cicadas resembled the cheering crowd that once observed from the stone bleachers forming a stadium around us. Ethan gave in and finished a few feet behind me, the two of us breathless and laughing as we rejoined Maddie.
“I wish I still had your energy,” she said, smiling. She fanned her face with her hat, her cheeks rosy. “We’d better get back to the bus.”
Other tourists lingered and I saw Marcos, our guide for the day, still talking to our group not far off. Apparently we had plenty of time, but I didn’t argue. With each passing day, I’d noticed Maddie grew more apprehensive about being separated from the tour guides and left behind, an insecurity which seemed out of character for the usually self-assured steam-roller of a woman I’d come to know and respect.
By the third day in the Greek Islands, Maddie decided to stay behind to rest up for the upcoming tour of Ephesus, which would require a long walk up the hill to the house of the apostle John, who supposedly kept Jesus’ mother Mary protected from persecution in the final years of her life—a ‘must see’ according to Maddie’s plan for my education in European history.
Maddie encouraged Ethan and me to join the tour of the island of Thira, called Santorini, on our own. Glad to be free of my grandmother’s eagle eye of surveillance, and her disapproving tone every time Ethan and I got too close, a new lightness rested on my heart.
Ethan took my hand as we exited the tour bus in the little village of Oia. Pronounced EE ya, according to Nikko, our guide for the day. With eyes blue-green like the sea, light hair against olive skin, and muscles pressing against a tight white button-down shirt, Nikko drew everyone’s attention. Through a thick accent and a wide grin, he addressed the group. “Here, you are free for the day. You may wander the streets of Oia and take in the shops and museum. If you would like to see our lovely beaches and harbor, you may take the cable car, ride a donkey, or walk the three hundred steps down to the beach. Enjoy yourself in one of our many outdoor cafés.”
He dismissed the group with an agreed upon time to meet later in the day and then there we were—Ethan and I alone and on our own for an entire day on a beautiful Greek Island. It seemed surreal...and romantic. I squeezed Ethan’s hand and walked by his side through the idyllic little town, feeling more excited than I had in far too long.
We made our way up the main street past jewelry shops, art galleries, and clothing boutiques, and soon found ourselves in a small connecting alleyway with smooth white steps leading between the buildings. Ethan led the way.
“C’mon. You’ve got to check out this view.” He tugged me along, smiling and laughing at my resistance.
“Where are you taking me?” I giggled.
“You’re going to love it. Trust me.”
We came out of the maze of square white buildings, and my breath caught in my throat. It was like every picture I’d ever seen of Greece. The cerulean blue sea stretched out before us, a small group of islands not far off. Water taxis ferried passengers in between. Blue domes on box shaped foundations marked the Cycladic architecture the region was known for. I’d read up on it in the magazine I’d snagged from the plane I’d first arrived on—and read again a dozen times on the long flight to Europe—which now seemed a lifetime ago.
“This is fantastic!” I drew in a deep breath as the warm breeze off the sea tossed my hair around my face. “I’ve never seen anything so pretty.”
“Awesome, isn’t it?” said Ethan, his voice soft.
I turned to see him staring at me and my heart jumped as heat rose to my cheeks under the hot sun and Ethan’s equally fiery gaze. His fingers wove between mine and he pulled me closer.
“I can’t imagine sharing this with anyone else,” I admitted. Our noses touched as we slipped into an easy embrace. Before I could say more, Ethan dipped and captured my parted lips. I melted into the kiss—no hesitation, and no thought for anyone seeing us. We probably looked like any other young couple, caught up in the magic of the place, unable to resist falling in love.
The word filled me. It exploded as if on a loudspeaker in my head, drowning out any voice of reason that said it wasn’t possible to feel so helplessly connected to someone in such a short amount of time. My heart beat against my ribs, reaching out to match Ethan’s, whose own heart was pounding at a furious rate against my palm.
I slowly broke away, and the words slipped out before I could take them back. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” I whispered loud enough to be heard above the wind and sea.
Ethan’s eyes widened, his dark lashes standing at attention. He opened his mouth as if to respond, but nothing came out. He looked as if he was drowning, his mouth opening and closing and no air getting in or out. Pulse pounding in my ears, I had two choices. Die in the silence between us, or rescue us both.
I pulled him into a kiss, parted his lips with my tongue, and dove in as if attempting to give him a life-saving breath or cut off any further messages to his brain. As for me...it was too late. I was already lost, and there was no turning back.
Chapter 27
After a heart-pounding and much too short make-out session and a few last minutes enjoying the view, no more was said about my declaration or Ethan’s glaring silence. Doubt crept into my head, but I refused to pout or let it ruin my day. I’d said what I said, and now it was out there. What Ethan did next was up to him.
The hike down to the beach was long and crowded, with no chance for a heavy conversation—much to my relief. Traveling down a mountain on a smelly donkey hadn’t sounded at all entertaining to me, but the line for the cable car stretched around the corner. Far too much time to try to make small talk. Besides, after watching the cable car plummet down the shear stone cliff, swaying in the brisk wind all the way, I decided it looked like a ride which had disaster written all over it. By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs and the blackened beach, we’d moved on to safer topics.
“Your knowledge of architecture is kind of impressive. Is it something you’ve studied in school?” Ethan shouldered up next to me on the boardwalk that connected the beaches and the small bars, cafés and boutiques. Beside us ran a long stretch of dark sandy beach, created by the volcanic ash that settled on the island at its formation. We’d fallen into a crowded party central, tribes of teens and college students playing Frisbee on the beach while topless sunbathers slathered on oil. I diverted my gaze and Ethan followed suit, his ears a bright shade of pink. A group at a nearby table clinked glasses of wine and called out the Greek cheer, OPA! Followed by drinking and raucous laughter.
I settled into a chair at the small bistro, ravenous for lunch. “They don’t have any design classes at the high school, but I like to read architecture books and magazines,” I continued, picking up the conversation. My insides shifted when Ethan reached across the table and took my hand, his eyes crinkling at the edges.
“Well, you’re obviously interested. Have you thought about studying architecture after high school?”
I slipped my hand out from between his. “What’s with everyone trying to plan my future for me?”
His brows dipped together in a frown. “I was only asking if you’d thought about it, that’s all.”
The hurt in his eyes stopped my next snide remark. My heart sank. Taking out my frustration on Ethan wasn’t the answer to evading the pressure I was under to make some kind of decision about my future.
“Sorry.” I slipped my hand back
beneath his. “It’s just that everyone seems to think they know what’s best for me. Mom thinks I should go to community college, and Mitch says I’ll be lucky to graduate high school. Maddie already put in her two cents and wants me to do a year of studies abroad. Honestly, I’m not sure I want to be so far from home while my mom is so...messed up. Although she’d probably be better off without me,” I added in a whisper, my throat tightening around the words.
“You know that isn’t true,” Ethan argued, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze. “She probably needs you now more than ever. But you have to do what’s right for you.”
“I wish I knew what that was,” I sighed. “Maybe a year away from home is a good idea,” I said, eyeing a glass of ice water being set on the table by a stunningly cute waiter. He took our order, focusing a perfect set of white teeth my way.
“I think being on your own in Europe is a bad idea,” Ethan said as he glared at the waiter, who nodded and turned away. Then he cleared his throat and his lips curved up slightly. “I mean...it would definitely kill our idea to see each other on the weekends.” He turned his glass around in his free hand, causing the condensation to drip down the outside. “Look, Lexi. I don’t ever want to be the kind of friend who doesn’t support your decisions, or the guy who tries to tell his girlfriend what to do.” Pink splotches rose up his neck as he focused on the ring of water seeping into his napkin. “You need to be your own person. I only want to see you happy...and it doesn’t seem like you are.”
Tears pinched behind my eyes. “I think I have a few reasons to be miserable, don’t you?” I pulled my hand away, and Ethan sat back, tugging at the edge of the checkered tablecloth.
“Believe me, I get it. But I can see you’re dying to break free of whatever is holding you back.” He leaned in again, capturing my gaze. “Sometimes people can get stuck in their grief. They call it survival guilt.”