Trouble From the Start

by Rachel Hawthorne

  “On a Saturday night?” he asked. “That’s more than being a friend.”

  “He didn’t have anything else to do.”

  He gave me a pointed look. “That guy? He could have not only found something to do, but found some chick to do it with.”

  I knew that well enough. “Really, Marc, it’s not a big deal.” Maybe Fletcher just wanted to unload about being drunk the other night. I hadn’t seen him since I’d put him to bed.

  “Maybe not to you, but it is to him.”

  When the last of the customers had left and the doors were locked, Jenny and Katie came up to me and spun me around. I felt the ties on my apron loosened, a tug on my hair as my hairclip was removed. One of them whipped away my apron.

  “What are y’all doing?” I asked as they spun me back around. They were grinning like mad.

  “Hot guy is waiting for you,” Jenny said.

  “Get out of here,” Katie said. “We’ll finish cleaning up.”

  “But it’s my job, too.”

  “Not tonight it’s not,” they both said as they shoved me toward the office where my things were stored in a locker.

  “Go,” Jenny said. “We’ll want deets tomorrow.”

  I didn’t want to disappoint them, but I didn’t know if the details would be that salacious. I had no idea why he was here. And that made me a little nervous because I didn’t know quite how to act. To anticipate being with him or to prepare for another brush-off. “Thanks, guys.”

  I clocked out and grabbed my bag from the locker. I quickly ran a brush through my hair, reapplied mascara and lipstick—which I realized was a little silly since it was dark out—but still, it made me feel more put-together.

  Dot was waiting for me at the door. “Have fun,” she said as she opened the door, let me out, and relocked it.

  I walked around the side of the building, intending to meet up with Fletcher on the deck, but he must have been watching for me through the window, because he met me halfway.

  “Want to walk along the beach before heading home?” he asked.

  Maybe he wanted to talk about something. I almost laughed. He didn’t share things. Still, I said, “Sure.”

  I pulled off my shoes, dropped them in my bag, retrieved my flip-flops. The lights from the restaurant provided enough faint light that we could see where we were going as we wandered over the dunes to the beach area. Sandpipers scurried along on spindly legs. The tide was low, leaving a lot of beach area.

  “You seem to have recovered from your drinking spree,” I said lightly.

  He groaned. “I don’t know why people get drunk.”

  “I heard you leave early Friday morning. Did you actually go to class?”

  “Had to turn in my homework.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “You’d be even more impressed if you’d met the guys with sledgehammers inside my head.”

  “I met them the morning after Scooter’s party.”

  He chuckled low. “I bet you did.”

  We continued on in silence until we reached the water’s edge.

  “So I never asked: how was your date?” I asked.

  “It wasn’t a date.”

  “The booty call then.”

  His smile flashed in the darkness. “It wasn’t a booty call either. It was just . . . her name is Raven. We went out a couple of times last year. When she called and wanted to hook up, it sounded like a good idea.”

  I slipped my foot out of my flip-flop, squiggled my toes in the wet sand. “Do you like her?”

  “She’s nice.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I’m not going to see her again, though.”

  “Thought you liked her.”

  “I said she was nice.”

  “What’s not to like about nice?”

  “She wasn’t you.”

  My heart went into a hard gallop.

  “How was your date with Marc?” he asked.

  “He wasn’t you,” I said quietly.

  Fletcher moved in, cradled my face. “I’ve missed you. That’s crazy. I’ve never missed anyone before. You’ll be leaving soon and this is going nowhere, but I can’t seem to stop thinking about you.”

  “Why weren’t you waiting for me when I got home last night?”

  “Thought if I went a little bit longer without seeing you then I’d stop missing you.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. “Didn’t work, huh?”

  “Don’t look so happy.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just nice to be missed. I missed you, too.”

  “So maybe we can be friends,” he said.

  “Gee, you made that sound really enticing. Where do I sign up?”

  “Right here.” Then he kissed me.

  The kiss was slow and hot, had the potential to go on into tomorrow. But I had the nagging thought that a few days earlier he’d kissed someone else. So had I—not so much to make him jealous but to make him realize other guys would kiss me. But Fletcher kissed girls because he liked to. I deserved loyalty. I was worth being considered special.

  Breaking off from his lips, I backed away. While there wasn’t a lot of light, I could tell that he was confused.

  “You can’t tell me a few days ago that you’re going to be seeing other girls, then kiss me tonight and think everything is going to be okay. If you want to be friends, we’ll be friends, but I don’t kiss my friends.”

  “I kiss my friends,” he said impatiently.

  “Not if you’re kissing me,” I said. “I like you, Fletcher. I like you a lot. I want to explore these feelings, see where they take us, but you want easy, and I’m not. I want a boyfriend. I want a guy who isn’t trying to get together with other girls.”

  “You’re talking about a commitment.”

  “It doesn’t have to be forever. But yes, if you want to be more than friends then I need to know I’m the only one you’re spending time with. Otherwise, we can just be friends. Late-night walks and talks. No kissing, no snuggling, no skinny-dipping.”

  “Like you’d go skinny-dipping.”

  “You’re right. I probably wouldn’t. But I’m not just someone to kiss when you’re in the mood for a kiss.”

  He looked disgruntled and frustrated, which made two of us. I wanted more with him, but I needed for him to want more with me, too. More than he’d ever had with any other girl.

  “I don’t know how to be a boyfriend,” he finally stated flatly.

  “I’ve never been a girlfriend, so it would be new to me, too. Maybe we could figure out how to be a couple together. But I can’t pretend our kisses don’t mean something. Every time we kiss, I fall just a little bit more.”

  “You’re so open about it.”

  “I’m not afraid of falling. I am afraid of being a fool, of getting hurt. You said you didn’t want to hurt me. Then don’t kiss me anymore unless you’re willing not to kiss anyone else.”

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, Fletcher stared out at the water.

  “You don’t have to decide tonight,” I told him. “Just know that I’m a no-kiss zone as long as you’re seeing other girls.”

  He faced me. “I guess that means no kiss for the road.”

  “No kiss for the road. But I will hold your hand if you want to walk me to the car.”

  He wrapped his hand around mine and we headed back toward the dunes. It wasn’t a lot, but I couldn’t help thinking that maybe it was a start.

  The next afternoon, after lunch, I was basking in a lounge chair by the pool. Although my eyes were closed, I was aware of a shadow crossing over my face, someone blocking out the sun. I expected to find Fletcher there. Instead, it was my dad.

  “Your mother and I need to have a talk with you and Fletcher.”

  My dad wasn’t the sort who did a lot of joking around, but he sounded way too serious. As I got up and followed him into the house, several possibilities went through my head. That the kiss-cam had been posted to the Internet, gone viral,
and my parents had seen it. That they knew about the walk I took with Fletcher along the beach last night. Or that maybe it went even further back than that. Maybe they found out about everything that had happened at Scooter’s party.

  When we walked into the den, I saw Fletcher standing beside Mom. I knew him well enough now to recognize the wariness in his eyes and I figured all the thoughts that had gone through my head had gone through his as well.

  “Have a seat,” Dad ordered.

  Fletcher and I sat on the couch. I resisted the urge to grab his hand, squeeze it in reassurance as we faced together whatever horrible thing had come to pass that had brought us to this moment.

  “As you know,” Dad began, “on Wednesday, your mom and I will be celebrating twenty years of marriage.”

  I blinked, looked at Fletcher, blinked again. I wasn’t quite certain why this required a conversation—unless they were calling it quits after twenty years. In the back of my mind, I’d known their anniversary was coming, and I’d been vaguely aware that it was one of the ones that came with rules about the gift, but I hadn’t gotten around to Googling it yet.

  “I was going to surprise your mom and take her to New Orleans for a couple of days, starting Tuesday.”

  She smiled, rubbed his shoulder.

  “I’d made arrangements for your aunt Beth to come and watch you while we were away.”

  “Oh, Dad, I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll be eighteen in August and I’m going to college.”

  “I know, I know. But we were going to be gone for three nights—”

  “What do you mean were going to be?” I asked.

  “Something came up at work and Beth can’t come.”

  “Like I said, I don’t need a babysitter. Fletcher could totally watch Tyler if I need to work.”

  “The plan was to come back Friday morning.”

  “Do it.”

  Dad looked at Fletcher, studied me. “I was a kid once. I know that when parents are away, teens tend to party and go crazy, but you have Tyler to think about.”

  “Dad.” I got up and walked over to him. “Go to New Orleans. We’ll be fine here.”

  He looked over my shoulder at Fletcher. “I expect you to be responsible.”

  “I will,” Fletcher said, coming to his feet.

  I could tell by his tone that he was a little offended. Not that I blamed him.

  “No partying,” Dad continued, “no sex, no drinking—”

  “We’ll dehydrate if we don’t drink,” I said.

  Dad scowled at me. “You know what I mean. No booze.”

  “Dad, you’ve always trusted me before. Why not now?”

  “We’ve just never left you alone this long before,” Mom said.

  “We’ll be fine,” I assured her. “Go have some fun.”

  Tuesday morning after they left—and after they’d provided a list of rules, reminders, and phone numbers—I drove Fletcher and Tyler to the grocery store so we could stock up. Because it was going to be unlimited junk food time for the three of us.

  I knew there was a rule that those who eat healthy shop around the outer edge of the grocery store. We headed straight for the center and the three C’s: cookies, chips, candy. We bought sodas and dips. Mom had left some frozen dinners in the freezer with instructions for thawing and heating. She’d also left money for pizza. The pizza we would order, but I didn’t see us cooking the dinners.

  When we got home, I called Kendall to see if she and Jeremy wanted to join us for No Parents Night. I stressed heavily that only they were invited. We were not throwing a party. We were not welcoming other people.

  Fletcher and I were opening the snacks, setting them out on the island. Tyler was our taste-tester. The key to success without having my parents around was to keep him occupied. I didn’t want him missing them or whining for them. The last time they’d taken a night out together, Tyler had been afraid they were never coming back. He still had separation-anxiety issues sometimes.

  It was odd, though, just having the three of us in the house. Or maybe the oddity was having Fletcher in the house without my parents around.

  “I’ve gone off on field trips and taken trips with Kendall where I haven’t seen my parents for days,” I began, “so it’s not like I miss them. But I’ve never been here without them overnight.”

  “Are you scared?” Fletcher asked as he came up behind me where I was stirring a package of ranch dip into sour cream. He moved my hair aside and pressed a kiss to the back of my neck. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

  I turned in the circle of his arms until I was facing him. I placed my hands on his shoulders and said in a very low voice, “I’m a no-kiss zone, remember?”

  “But that was just a harmless peck.”

  Not so harmless when it shot pleasure through me and made my toes curl. I glanced quickly at Tyler who was absorbed in eating chips while playing a handheld game. I gave my attention back to Fletcher. “You know the rules.”

  His gaze held mine. “I want to break them.”

  My heart was pounding. “I deserve someone who follows them.”

  He sighed. “Yeah, you do.”

  “Okay, we brought munchies,” Kendall announced as she and Jeremy walked into the kitchen. “Oops, sorry.” She grimaced.

  Fletcher reached for a chip, dipped it, and popped it into his mouth. “I was just taste-testing. Betty Crocker here was in the way.”

  “Yeah, right. Should we come back later?” she asked.

  I pointed at Tyler to indicate that she wasn’t interrupting any making out because he was here. I wasn’t exactly sure what she was interrupting. It was all bad timing.

  “Hey, squirt, look who’s here,” I said to Tyler. He was unusually quiet. Normally he welcomed anyone who came to the house.

  He scrunched up his face. “I don’t feel so good.”

  “Probably ate too much candy. Come on, we’re going out to the pool for a while.”

  “Skinny-dipping, right?” Fletcher asked with ease. I thought I’d probably been misreading whatever he’d been trying to tell me.

  I slapped playfully at his arm. “No.”

  The guys took Tyler out to play in the pool while I helped Kendall unpack what she’d brought. Most of it was homemade: fudge, peanut butter-chocolate bars, chocolate chip cookies. She loved to bake, especially when she was stressed.

  “This is a lot. Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, yeah, just needed some time away from my mom. Maybe we could turn this into a sleepover.” She winked at me. “I told my mom we might be over here all night.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Jeremy and I just haven’t had a lot of time together lately. My mom is always at home. His parents are usually around. I cannot wait until we are off at college and each have a dorm room—”

  “And a roommate,” I felt obligated to point out.

  She groaned. “Yeah. Wish you and I were going to the same college. I’m going to miss you.”

  “We won’t be that far away,” I told her.

  “I know, but it’ll be weird. Anyway”—she spread out her hands—“we have a feast.”

  The guys were playing some form of keep-away with a small inflatable beach ball. I thought the object was to keep it away from everyone except Tyler. Kendall and I stretched out on the lounge chairs.

  “I’m afraid he’s going to grow up believing that he can win at everything,” I said.

  “Is that a bad thing?” Kendall asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s just that you don’t always win. You need to learn how to handle disappointment.”

  “Life’s harsh lessons,” she said. “Seems like they need to be put off as long as possible. Speaking of harsh lessons, what’s the status of you and hotcakes? Did we interrupt something?”

  “How could we have been doing anything? Tyler was at the island.”

  “Absorbed in junk food. You’re avoiding the question. If we were in a courtroom, you’d be a hostile wit
ness.”

  I laughed. “Oh my God, have you been spending time in a courtroom this summer?”

  “A couple of hours. I knew Jeremy was going to be there. And he was right. It was so boring. Something about some terms in an agreement not being honored and the need for restitution. I nearly fell asleep and slipped off the bench. But then we went for lunch afterward and that made it worth it. But then being with him is always worth it. How about Fletcher?”

  “How about Fletcher what?”

  “Is it worth it to be with him?”

  I watched him bouncing in the pool, the water sluicing over his skin. He went to toss the ball to Jeremy. It fell short. Tyler shrieked and laughed as he caught it. No way Fletcher hadn’t deliberately given it to my brother.

  “I like him, Kendall, but we’re still working things out. He’s not used to commitment.”

  “Told you. Way back in the beginning. Commitment-phobe. You’re going to get hurt.”

  “I don’t think he’s afraid of commitment. I think the whole idea of it is just new to him.”

  He of whom we were speaking glided over to the edge of the pool. “Come on in. The munchkin is killing us. We need some help.”

  “Put more air under the ball,” I told him.

  With a devilish grin, he placed his hands on the ground, lifted himself up—

  And I knew he was coming for me. I jumped up, ran forward, catapulted myself over his head, brought my legs up, wrapped my arms tightly around them, forcing them closer to my chest, curled forward, and landed like a cannonball. Kendall joined us. We had a splash fight, girls against guys. In spite of my worries about Tyler never knowing what it was to lose, I declared his team the winner.

  As the sun went down, we sat on the lounge chairs and watched the fireflies. Tyler wanted to capture some, but I explained to him as I had before, they were meant to be free. He was curled against me. He was warm and I figured he’d had too much sun today.

  After we went inside, we ordered pizza, scarfed it down, and played Candy Land until Tyler got bored with it, stretched out on the floor, and fell asleep. He’d wanted to stay up all night. I’d told him he could, but I’d known eventually he’d conk out. I remembered when I was younger, I’d thought the best thing in the world would be not to have to go to bed. I put a pillow beneath his head and draped an afghan over him. He’d be just as happy to wake up in the morning, realizing he hadn’t technically gone to bed.