The Summer We Changed (Relentless Book 1)

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The Summer We Changed (Relentless Book 1) Page 11

by Barbara C. Doyle


  I follow aimlessly behind Ryder and Ian.

  Too. It doesn’t surprise me at all that he missed me. In fact, I knew he would. But hearing him say it, or text it I guess, makes me giddy.

  And I don’t know what that means.

  I brush off the doubt.

  Tess: If you’re even five minutes late, I’m starting the movie without you.

  Will: Who says you get dibs on the movie choice? It’s my movie night I’m inviting you to.

  Tess: I deserve to choose since you left me on my lonesome forever to take care of your family obligations.

  I can picture him rolling his eyes as he reads it.

  Will: Fine, but it better not be some sappy chick flick again. If I see one more Channing Tatum ass …

  I snort out loud, which causes Ian and Ryder to look over their shoulders at me. I smile sheepishly and text back a reply.

  Tess: I’ll save your precious eyes from looking at a (perfectly fine) booty. I’ve got the perfect movie in mind.

  And I do. I’m sure that he’ll expect nothing less of my choice, and criticize me relentlessly for it. But that’s just our cycle when it comes to planned movie nights. He never once tries to choose a movie to watch, leaving it up to me every time.

  So, really, it’s his fault.

  Although, we both know that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  It’s eight twenty-two when I finally walk into my parent’s house. It’s dark, there’s something bitter whirling in the air, and I can hear muffled voices coming from the living room.

  I walk in to see Ryder sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Tessa, his socked feet perched on the coffee table in front of him. She’s sitting with her feet tucked under her, her eyes locked with focus on the television screen. Her hand is absentmindedly combing through her hair, grooming herself, expressionless.

  She usually does that when she’s consumed in something. She always fidgets, or else she’d go mad. It drives me crazy how much the chick moves. If we’re laying down and watching TV, her hands will find something to tug on. If we’re having lunch, her right leg will bounce up and down. I used to be convinced she did it just to tick me off, but I soon realized that it was just Tess being … Tess.

  My eyes travel to the bowl of popcorn resting between them, although I could smell it long before I eyed it. Clearly Ryder made it, because it smells burned, the bitter scent lingering in the air around the room.

  I’m not saying I’m a good cook, but at least I don’t have the talent to burn everything that I make. Ryder on the other hand? He would live off cold cuts and TV dinners if it weren’t for somebody cooking for him.

  I should have known Tess was being serious earlier about starting without me if I was late. But, sometimes you can’t stop things setting you back with chores. Maybe if Ryder stayed longer than he did, instead of schmoozing Tess, we would have been done sooner.

  When I called him for being late to chores, he was out with Tess and Ian. I don’t know what irritated me more—him not sticking around the farm, or him hanging out with Ian. He wouldn’t tell me why he was with him either, which only fueled the fire.

  He insists it’s not my business, but when he’s involved it is. Of course, it didn’t get any information from him like I wanted either.

  My eyes travel to the screen next, wondering what they’re watching. What I see shouldn’t have surprised me. Really, it doesn’t. After all, it is Tess we’re talking about.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I ask, making my presence known. Pushing myself off the doorway I’m standing in, I strut into the room. My eyes go to the DVD case lying on the table.

  “The Lego Batman Movie?”

  Tess throws a piece of popcorn at me. It bounces off my chest and onto the carpet.

  “It’s cinematic genius,” is her reply.

  I snort in doubt, because it’s an animated cartoon with slapstick humor that only certain age groups can get. But, I know better than to argue with Tess about it. She’s obsessed with movies as is, adding Batman to the mix is a deadly combination that I don’t want to deal with.

  “It’s actually not that bad, bro,” Ryder agrees.

  I move the bowl of popcorn off the center cushion and drop down onto it. Resting the bowl on my lap, I glance down at the disgraceful looking snack.

  “What the hell is on this?” There’s some sort of syrup on it, lighter than chocolate but darker than peanut butter.

  Tess grabs a handful. “Caramel.”

  I scrunch my face up. “You put caramel on your popcorn?”

  She shrugs. “It was either that or peanut butter, and peanut butter popcorn didn’t sound good.”

  “What made you want to put anything on it?”

  She pops the handful into her mouth, a faint grin tipping up her lips.

  Ryder is who answers in a muffled voice. “It disguises the burnt taste.”

  I gape at him with disbelief. “Why didn’t you just make another bag and throw out the burnt one?”

  Tess laughs. “This was his third try.”

  His cheeks turn pink. “I told you that you were better off making it.”

  I can’t help but laugh and voice my earlier thought. “Dude, you’re going to be so screwed when you’re on your own. Who’s going to keep you from starving to death?”

  He shoves my shoulder with his. “I’m sure I’ll have a lady friend who would kill to cook for me. I can think of a few good ways I’d thank her.”

  Tess chokes on her popcorn. “Eww, Ry. I so do not need to hear you say something like that. Just … no.”

  He grunts. “Like you’ve never heard it before from other people.”

  Her face only contorts with disgust. “It’s different when you say it. You’re like the annoying little brother I never wanted.”

  He grumbles to himself about not wanting her as a sister anyway, and I can see why. He’s always nursed a crush on her. She knew it, too, and used to tease him for it. I can’t say that I blame the kid.

  I watch the movie for about five minutes before I can’t stand taking the burnt smell in my lap.

  “I’m making us different popcorn.”

  As I walk to the kitchen, Tess says, “I told you he’d break and do it. You owe me five dollars.”

  Ryder chuckles. “You suck.”

  “I just know Will.”

  “Clearly,” my little brother mutters. From the corner of my eye, I see him pull a green bill out of his pocket and place it in Tess’s waiting palm.

  Shaking my head at the two of them, I put a new bag of popcorn in the microwave. I hear them laugh and bicker at some horrible cliché joke the movie produces. Honestly, it’s kind of funny to see them so into it.

  As much as Ryder irritates me, I like hanging out with him. And seeing them together is entertaining, especially when Tess teases him about a girl … which is usually often, since Ryder thinks he has more game than he actually does.

  After the two minutes are up, I shake the living hell out of the bag to disperse the butter, and then dump it into the now-clean bowl. I smile to myself when I see that nothing is burned, and make my way back into the living room.

  Tess peers up at me, her eyes crystal blue in the light illuminating from the television screen. “Can you get me a soda?” She bats her eyelashes like it’s going to make me decide to get her one.

  It does.

  I grab Ryder a Mountain Dew, since I know he’ll ask me for one too, and a bottle of Gatorade for myself before making it back into the darkened room. Tess is leaning her head against the cushion of the couch, her body curled under an afghan my mother knitted a few years ago.

  I pass them both a drink before sitting between them again. Knocking Ryder’s feet off the table, I put mine in his place. He shoots me a look. I ignore it.

  About an hour later, I notice Tess’s half empty can of soda resting in her hand. Her eyelids are heavy, and her head is bobbing with exhaustion. Ryder is already asleep on the other side of me, his f
eet back up on the table next to mine. I’m pretty sure he’s drooling, and I’m half-tempted to take a picture, but decide to be a good sibling and leave him be.

  “Hey,” I hum quietly, taking the can from her hand. Leaning forward, I set it on the corner of the table. I sit back on the couch, watching her dark lashes flutter as she tries to keep her eyes open.

  “You can crash,” I tell her, pulling her into my side. She rests her head on my shoulder, and I drape my arm around her. My cheek rests on the top of her head, and I hear her let out a quiet breath.

  “I did miss you,” she muffles out, her head sinking until it’s using my chest as a pillow.

  I smile against her head. “I know.”

  She yawns. “No, you didn’t.”

  I roll my eyes. “Go to sleep, Tessa.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she mutters, right before her breathing shifts. Her body melts into mine, and I know she’s sleeping.

  I shake my head at her, but settle deeper into the couch to make myself comfortable. The movie has to be almost over, and I’m not sure I want it to end if it means Tess leaving.

  Selfish, but true.

  After a few minutes of listening to Ryder snore and Tess mumble to herself, I’m about to drift off myself. Not before Tess’s head slides down my chest and onto my lap, causing me to still. I look down at her and the sudden change of position—her body on its side, one hand on her head, and one resting on my thigh.

  My heart jerks in my chest, and I try to calm it down. It’s nearly impossible when she wiggles her head one last time, causing more than just my heart to jump. If she moves even in the slightest way, she’s going to feel exactly what she’s doing to me.

  Fuck.

  I don’t want her knowing that I’m turned on, so I try readjusting her. She stays asleep as I do, letting me take a breath in relief. My arm goes around her side, resting on her waist as I lean my head on the back of the couch.

  Soon, I fall asleep, too.

  I’m finishing up chores when I hear my parents talking from outside the barn. Their voices are muffled, clearly trying to keep the conversation as private as possible. I can’t help but shift closer to the door in curiosity.

  “We can’t keep this up,” Mom says, her voice tired.

  “We still have another two months,” Dad replies, his voice sounding distant, mind lost in thought.

  There’s silence for a long moment.

  Then, Mom says, “Is it going to matter how long we have, Darren? We have a lot to think about here.”

  Dad’s deep sigh sounds. “We’re going to have to make a decision. Either one we make will be hard.”

  She makes a sound in agreement.

  I press my lips together, trying to decipher what they’re talking about. It doesn’t take long to understand what’s going on, because I heard the same thing two years ago. The farm is going under. Again.

  When their footsteps near the barn doors, I quickly move away and finish putting the milk machines back. They walk in just as I’m about to step out, both of their faces painted with smiles that don’t reach their eyes.

  I debate on whether to pretend I wasn’t eavesdropping, but don’t have to make the decision.

  “It’ll be okay,” Mom says, patting my hand.

  They always know when I overhear them.

  Overhear, listen in, same difference.

  I don’t nod in agreement. “Will it? The bank gave us a loan last time this happened. We knew it wasn’t going to last forever.”

  She frowns.

  Dad puts his arm around her waist. “We thought we’d finally start making money after the loan, but it didn’t happen. The market just isn’t giving us what we need.”

  I stuff my hands in my pockets. “So, what now?”

  “I don’t know, son,” he admits, shaking his head. “I guess we’ll see what the next milk check is. Maybe try seeing what we can get for some of the equipment—”

  I make a face. “So we’re selling? Giving up?”

  “We’re trying to make ends meet,” Mom argues, giving me a small smile. “I know it’s hard, Will. You gave up a lot to help us, but things don’t always work out the way we want them to. Your father and I think it’s best if we see what some of our smaller equipment will sell for to see if we can pay back what we owe. Then … we’ll go from there. No matter what, it will be okay. We’ll get through it, sweetheart.”

  Dad nods. “We always do.”

  I want to believe them. Toward the end of my senior year of high school, the checks weren’t cutting the price it took to take care of everything. Dad had to let go of the hired help, and it left them picking up extra work.

  I had opportunities that I could have taken. Ones I don’t regret letting go of. The farm, my family, means more than anything I could have gotten by leaving this town. Not to mention the brown-haired girl next door who would have been left behind if I went away.

  I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have her in my life. There aren’t many things in my life that are constant, but Tess is. Her daily ramblings, annoying or not, are my main source of entertainment. When we’re not hanging out, which has been happening more than I like this summer, I find myself more bored than usual.

  Something strikes me. I glance at Dad with an accusing look on my face. “Why were we at the auction if we’re low on money?”

  He gives me an apologetic look. “I needed to see what things were going for. Local shops aren’t willing to take anything for even half the price we got them for. I figured checking out the auction would be the best bet.”

  My jaw ticks at the admission. “How long have you known about this being a possibility?”

  Mom reaches for my hand, squeezing it. “Will, something like this is always a possibility. Farms go through a lot of hard times, especially with the market always changing.”

  “How. Long.”

  Dad eyes dull. “About three months.”

  I swear.

  He puts his hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. It’s his was of trying to comfort me without words.

  “Does Ryder know?” I ask, voice calmer than before. I know the answer already, but I want to hear it from them. They know as well as I do that Ryder wouldn’t really care if there’s no more farm. Not that he wouldn’t care if we’re upset about it.

  Out of the two of us, I’m more interested in staying in the family business. Ryder helps around the farm, but only because he has to. As soon as he graduates, I’m sure he’ll want out. And neither of my parents will stop him. I don’t know where he’ll end up, but I know damn well that it’s probably outside of the town limits.

  I’ve always been the family oriented one. It’s not a bad thing, but it makes things interesting with Ryder. He sees me more like a second father than a brother. He questions why I stuck around instead of taking up Ian’s offer on joining him on the road. I could have been the guitarist of Relentless, a band that I never thought would become as big as it has. I could be where Sebastian or Dylan are.

  But playing the guitar came second as soon as I heard about my parents’ financial problems. They were both born and raised on farms. It’s all they’ve ever known. Losing everything they worked for wouldn’t just be a disaster, it’d be heartbreaking.

  So, despite Ryder’s doubt as to why I stayed, he let it go. Never pressed or pushed. Ever since I made my choice to stick around and go to a college nearby, he’s been determined to go. I want him to be happy, so I don’t discourage him. Doesn’t mean I don’t worry about him and the trouble he could get into.

  He’s the only one who knows about what I gave up. Not even Tess knows, and I can’t help but wonder why I never told her. I tell myself it’s because it doesn’t matter, I wouldn’t have fit in with the band. Most of the guys are cool, but Ian and I would be at each other’s throats constantly. And the attention they’ve gotten since their album made it big, specifically their song “Relentless,” would be something I’d squirm from.

&
nbsp; But the biggest reason I never told her is because she’d feel guilty. The whole town assumed I stayed to help out my parents, which is most of it. But nobody knows just how much I couldn’t say good-bye to Tess. We always talked about going to the same college, living near each other when we got the money to live off campus. I wanted that—to be close to her. To experience college with her. I wanted a lot with her, and I have to remind myself to dial down that admission.

  You can’t have her. Not like that.

  I force myself to brush off the thought, and ignore the way my heart reacts to the idea.

  My parent’s financial problems didn’t stay a secret from the tiny town of Clinton. People talked, gossiped. Some tried to help, specifically local farmers. Not long before the summer ended, Ian and the rest of the band were gone. They signed with a label, and were going to tour with a few other bands doing headlines. When they left, they were popular around town. Now, they’re hometown heroes. Once nobodies from the middle of nowhere New York turned to somebodies that people looked up to.

  All while I milked cows back on the barn.

  No, I don’t regret staying. I don’t regret helping my parents in their time of need, or sticking around to watch Ryder try being cool … and failing at doing so. Family helps family, they stick together no matter what.

  What I do regret is not being the person that Tess admires like she does with Ian. I can see the way she lights up when she talks about him. Hell, I can see why she’d like the guy, as much of a prick as he is.

  He’s successful. He made a name for himself. He gets what he wants every single time.

  What if Tess is what he wants?

  The jealousy I buried away starts to rise again just thinking about it. I tell myself it isn’t worth getting angry about, but it’s Tess.

  It’s always about Tess.

  And that’s when I know two things:

  1. I love Tessa. What kind of love is up for debate, but there’s a good indication, based on the fact I want to rip Ian’s head off for flirting with her, that it’s more than the love friends share.

  and

  2. I won’t ever tell her unless I know she loves me, too.

 

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