Did I Mention I Love You?

by Estelle Maskame

  The entire time that Ella is speaking, Dad glowers at me. I can’t quite meet his eyes, and I try to focus anywhere else but on him. To my right, Tyler is biting back laughter as he presses a hand to his mouth. I’d totally kick him in the shin if there weren’t a cop standing next to us. He manages to compose himself, but the second he lifts his head and meets my eyes he starts laughing again. He bites the back of his hand as he stares at the ground.

  “How about we save both of us the paperwork and I let this one slide?” I hear Officer Greene say, and immediately my eyes shift to him. He offers his hand to Ella.

  “Respectable decision, Officer,” Ella comments, and they shake on the agreement. I see her exchange a brief glance with Dad, and he nods as though they’re telepathic.

  “Alright,” Dad says. “You two, out to the car. Right now.”

  Tyler’s laughter has subsided by now, and he shrugs at me as Dad barges through the middle of us. “Someone’s mad as hell,” he mutters under his breath. He nudges my arm before turning around, the two of us following close on Dad’s heels and out of the station. Ella doesn’t join us.

  It’s dark when we get outside into the station parking lot, and it’s growing late too. As we approach the Range Rover in silence, Jamie peers through the tinted windows at us. I pull open the door to find Chase asleep at the other side.

  “What’d you do this time?” Jamie asks, but his eyes are on Tyler, not me.

  “Something I shouldn’t have,” Tyler mutters in reply, and he throws me a knowing smile.

  I climb inside, Tyler behind me, and we all have to shove Chase farther along until he’s pressed against the door at the other side. Jamie only heaves a tremendous sigh. I look up at Dad to find him gripping the steering wheel in silence, and I’m just about to ask him if he’s okay when Ella comes storming over to the car. She throws open the passenger door, gets in, and slams it shut again.

  “Nice going, Mom,” Tyler says. He leans forward and rubs her shoulder. “You’re killing ’em.”

  She quickly shakes his hand off her and barely even glances at him in the rearview mirror before opening her mouth to speak. “Don’t even talk to me, Tyler,” she warns, her voice scolding. “One of these days I’m just not going to turn up. I’m so disappointed in you.”

  “I’m disappointed in you too, Eden,” Dad chips in gruffly. He shakes his head and starts up the engine, slowly backing out of the parking lot. “What the hell were you doing inside in the first place? I’m pretty sure the event was outside.”

  “No,” Tyler quips. “The event was definitely inside.” He runs a finger inconspicuously down my thigh, stopping at my knee. It creates the oddest sensation.

  “Cut it out with the attitude,” Ella snaps. She must be livid, because she never snaps. “I just had to sign for both of you to get out of there when I could have easily just left you all night, okay? So here’s an idea, Tyler: just sit there and be quiet for once in your life.”

  That shuts him up for the journey back to Santa Monica, but it doesn’t stop him from skimming his thumb over my palm or playfully bumping his knee against mine or staring at me. I’m surprised no one notices. I certainly do, and I try my hardest to ignore him, despite the shivers running through me at his every touch.

  It’s almost midnight when we get back to Deidre Avenue. Dad is worn out from the driving, but he still manages to carry Chase into the house and put him to bed without waking him. Jamie disappears into his room too.

  “I don’t even know what to say to you, Tyler,” Ella murmurs as she locks the front door. She presses her palm against the glass panel, but she doesn’t turn around to face him. “I’ve just—I’ve had enough.” Her voice is pained, and she sighs as she turns around and walks toward us. “Eden, just go to your room. Get some sleep.”

  When she gives me a small smile, I realize she’s really asking for privacy. I nod, glancing between both of them before heading for the stairs. Dad passes me on my way up and we both pause.

  “I should call your mom,” he says quietly. It feels odd hearing him mention her. Out of place, even.

  “Don’t.” I pull a face and pout. Mom is already stressed enough with her work; she doesn’t need me being arrested piled onto her too. “It’ll only worry her.”

  “It’s worrying me, Eden!” he starts to yell, but it fades to a whisper midway through. He glances around to make sure he hasn’t disrupted anything, and then he presses a hand to his forehead. “What the hell is going on with you? I know you’ve been going to parties. I’m forty, not sixty. I don’t care about you enjoying yourself. Hell, it’s summer. What I care about is the impact it’s having on you. You’ve already lied to me a bunch of times, and now this? Who are you even hanging out with?”

  Dad’s abruptness takes me aback. I thought he was oblivious to where I was going and what I was doing, but it seems he’s more aware than I thought he was. “Um,” I say. “Rachael from across the street. Tiffani. Um. Tiffani…Parkinson, I think?”

  “Tyler’s girlfriend?” Dad asks, but he doesn’t even give me the chance to nod back. “Are you hanging out with the whole group of them? Dean Carter? That Jake guy?”

  “And Meghan,” I mumble. I didn’t take him as a dad who paid attention to which people were in which friendship circle. “We’re all friends.”

  “Well,” he says slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, “at least they’re nice kids. Look, you know what, just go to bed.” Unbuttoning the top of his shirt, he shakes his head in defeat and continues on downstairs.

  I don’t know what the hell that was, but I don’t want to stick around and wait for it to happen again. Darting into my room, I kick off my sneakers and spin around to close my door, but Tyler is standing there. I almost choke.

  “Hey,” he whispers as he takes a step into my room. His eyes glance around as though it’s the first time he’s ever been in here.

  “Hi.” His eyes fall back to mine, and I can’t quite tell what he’s thinking about or how he’s feeling. My open door casts a shadow over his face, so I can’t see the shade of his eyes and the emotions within them. “What’d your mom say?”

  “Nothing,” he says, his voice low. “Sorry for taking you down with me. I should have just left when the cop told us to.”

  “It’s fine.” My anger has fizzled away to nothing by now. We didn’t end up being charged, so I plan to pass it off as a simple misunderstanding between the officer and us.

  Tyler opens his mouth to speak again, but the sharp shrill of a phone cuts him off. I can hear the vibrations through his jeans as he reaches into his pocket. His lips falter into a frown when he looks at the screen. “Tiffani,” he murmurs. He looks like he’s contemplating declining the call for a moment, but he shakes his head and shoots me an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I gotta talk to her. She’ll get mad if I ignore her.”

  And just like that, everything inside me sinks. Everything drowns. My chest almost collapses on itself, tightening in ways unimaginable as I force myself to keep breathing. Anxiety hits me again in one big wave. I’ve been so caught up in him these past couple hours that I completely forgot he has a girlfriend.

  “I’m sorry,” he says again, grimacing at the screen once more before looking back up to take in my frozen posture. I feel sick again, and he seems to notice, because he takes a step toward me but then quickly changes his mind. A tremendous sigh echoes around the room, and he squeezes his phone tighter. “I’m really sorry. I have to,” he whispers. Dropping his eyes to the carpet, he slowly turns around and leaves.

  I stand there feeling completely numb while he accepts the call, murmuring, “Hey, what’s up?” just before the door of his room clicks shut.

  But his voice has no energy to it at all.

  It’s as lifeless as I feel.

  Chapter 20

  “Eden!” my best friend’s voice yells ecstatically down the line the next morning. Her tone is so high and so sharp that I have to draw my phone away from my ear for a moment. �
�Finally!”

  “I know, I know.” I heave a sigh, which more than likely echoes across the connection. “I’ve been so busy.”

  “You keep missing my calls,” Amelia states. There’s a hint of irritation in her voice, which I can’t blame her for. I haven’t spoken to her in over a week. “How was your Fourth of July?”

  I bite down on my lower lip. Yesterday is what I’m calling to talk to her about, but her question leaves me a little tongue-tied. I somehow manage to muster up a quick, “Good,” between several uneven breaths.

  “Just good?”

  “Well,” I say. I bite even harder, my cheeks warming with a rose hue as I stare down at my comforter. “I got to ride in a cop car for the first time last night.”

  There’s a long silence, like Amelia is waiting for me to yell “Just kidding!” at her. But I don’t. “What?”

  I begin tracing circles on the fabric. “For trespassing.”

  “Is this even Eden that I’m talking to?” There are some annoying thuds as she taps her knuckles against her phone. “Hello? Eden Munro, is that you?”

  I let out a small laugh. “It wasn’t my fault. My ste—” I stop short as the words catch in my throat. I can’t bring myself to say them, because saying them only reminds me of the reality of the situation. “I mean, Tyler,” I correct slowly, “got us arrested. We would have been fine if he hadn’t opened his mouth.”

  “That’s the oldest brother, right?” Her words make me cringe, and it takes me a few seconds to compose myself before I confirm.

  “Did you go to the festival?” I quickly ask. My fingers tighten around my comforter as I listen for her reply.

  “Of course,” she says with a sharp gasp, as though she’s appalled that I even needed to ask. We always go the Waterfront Blues Festival. “It felt so weird without you there.”

  I frown as I run a hand through my hair. “Who were you with?”

  “The usual,” she tells me, right before she begins to rattle off some of their names. “Chloe, Eve, Annie, Jason, Andrei…you know, just everyone.” Hearing the names of my friends from Portland casts a tidal wave of homesickness over me. I miss hanging out with them all, and it’s even worse hearing about them all spending the summer together while I’m stuck here.

  But then a further thought crosses my mind. It reminds me of why I left Portland in the first place, why I finally gave in to coming here for eight weeks. It’s because some people in Portland aren’t worth missing. I take a short breath before quietly murmuring, “Alyssa and Holly…were they there?”

  “Yeah.” Silence ensues until I hear Amelia exhale, and when she speaks again, her voice is soft and quiet. “Don’t make it awkward for me, Eden. All three of you are my best friends, but it feels like I’m supporting both sides of the war fronts. It feels like I’m committing treason whenever I talk to one of you.”

  I try to ignore the pain in my chest by ignoring her. “So were the fireworks good?” The enthusiasm in my voice sounds fake as I force a smile upon my lips.

  “They were amazing!” Amelia squeals. She’s always been hyperactive, always getting excited over the simplest of things. “We had a bonfire after it. We were out all night, making s’mores and drinking beer and listening to music. I’m half asleep right now, so I don’t know if I’m making sense.” She pauses. “I hope I am.”

  “You are,” I confirm as I press my back harder against the wall. I try to keep my thoughts from wandering. “The bonfire sounded fun.”

  “It was!” More squeaks, more squeals, more heavy breathing. “Landon Silverman took me home.”

  My eyes widen slightly. Landon Silverman is pretty damn hot. “The senior?”

  “Yeah,” she sheepishly admits. I can picture her blushing, blinking repeatedly like she always does when she’s embarrassed or shy. But the shyness disintegrates as quickly as it arrived, and she nonchalantly says, “We got to third base in the back of his truck.”

  I almost choke. If this is a joke, it isn’t funny. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I wish I was,” she murmurs. “His package isn’t much of a package. And I had such high expectations. It’s a tragedy.”

  “Sounds horrific, Amelia,” I say, stifling a laugh. She reminds me of Rachael. They have similar humor and similar hobbies involving males.

  “What about you?” she pries, the curiosity dripping from her voice. “Canoodled with any Californian boys yet?”

  “I did make out with this guy…” Off goes my pulse again, speeding up and beating rapidly beneath my skin. I take a deep breath. “Last night.”

  Amelia almost bursts with excitement. “Oh my God, who?”

  I hit a mental standstill. Do I tell her? Do I tell my best friend, the best friend who I tell everything to, about what happened with Tyler? I feel like I should fill her in so that I can hear her advice, but I just can’t force the words out of my mouth. This complication with Tyler feels too scandalous, too wrong. And I know that Amelia must surely feel my apprehension over the line, so I quickly blurt, “Some guy called Jake.” Nice save.

  “Is he hot?”

  I shrug to myself as I pull Jake’s face into my mind, analyzing his features and tilting my head while I decide. “Yeah. He’s blond.”

  “Blond?” Amelia gasps in horror. “You’re canoodling with a blond guy?”

  “Stop using that word,” I order through giggles. It is impossible to have a conversation with her without cracking a smile.

  She takes a deep breath before yelling, “But you are literally canoodling with a blond guy!”

  “How shocking,” I remark.

  “Is that Californian water beginning to affect you? You hate blond guys,” she states as though I’m not already aware of that. She’s the one who prefers blond hair. “Do you want me to call your mom, because I honestly think you need medical assistance. What happened to ‘dark-haired guys are better’?”

  I roll my eyes. “Are you still drunk?”

  “I don’t know,” she says. “Probably.”

  And with that, I tell her to go get some sleep before bidding her farewell. She promises to drop by my house later to check on my mom, and I’m thankful. Mom’s probably feeling pretty lonely lately.

  When I get off the phone, I decide to go for a run to clear my head. The weekend’s events with Tyler have left my head all over the place, and I feel an overwhelming sense of doubt. I don’t know what I’m doing and I really don’t know what I’m getting myself into. All I know is that it’s not simple.

  I get myself dressed and tell Ella that I’m heading out, and I begin my jog south across the city for a change, instead of west to the coastline. The weather is gorgeous and the city is busy, but I don’t pay too much attention to the details. Normally I steal glances at people’s faces as I pass; I read license plates; I notice small independent stores that look interesting. But not today. Today, my thoughts are all about Tyler.

  So while my mind processes one hundred and one fleeting thoughts at once, I somehow manage to conclude some specific facts about him:

  (1) Tyler is a jerk; there is no doubt about that one.

  (2) He is a jerk who has serious anger issues alongside possible behavioral issues.

  (3) He’s only a jerk because he wants to be a jerk, because

  (4) he’s definitely hiding something.

  (5) His favorite hobbies include getting wasted and getting high.

  (6) He has nice abs and I like the color of his eyes.

  (7) Sometimes he can be really sweet, like when he’s joking around with his brothers.

  (8) He can annoy the hell out of me occasionally, but it’s okay, because

  (9) he is a great kisser. And finally,

  (10) I’m attracted to him much more than I’m willing to admit.

  Over the sound of my music I hear the honk of a car, which crashes my train of thought. My eyes flash to my left as a vehicle pulls up by the sidewalk, so I slow to a halt and pull out one earphone. It’s not until I
take a few steps closer that I realize I recognize this car—it’s Dean’s, and he’s not alone.

  As the window rolls down, Tyler offers me a small smile and raised eyebrows. He purses his lips and then says, “I knew it was you.”

  “What gave it away?” I ask as I pull the other earphone from my ear and lean down. I press my hands on the car door, my breathing heavy. I don’t know how long I’ve been running for.

  Tyler’s eyes light up for a moment, and he laughs under his breath and glances at his lap. “We just got outta the gym,” he tells me, but it’s not the reply I’m looking for. I was expecting an answer to my question. “We’re heading back to my place and you look like you’re about to die, so you may as well just get in the car.”

  My eyes drift past him to Dean. His cheeks are flushed red from working out and he gives me a quick nod.

  “I am not dying,” I protest indignantly, panting. I’m insulted that he said such a thing. “I can run for miles, okay?”

  “Okay,” Tyler mimics, but his tone is playful. His smile turns lopsided and suddenly he reaches for the car door and pushes it open, forcing me to remove my hands and take a step back. He gets out of the vehicle and straightens up next to me on the sidewalk. For a long moment, he holds my gaze. “I’ll jog back with you.”

  “But I like to run on my ow—”

  He steps in front of me and leans through the car window to grab his bag, cutting me off midsentence as he says, “Bro, you don’t mind, right?”

  Dean shakes his head and then asks, “Another session on Wednesday?”

  “Yeah,” Tyler agrees. “See you then, man.”

  As the window rolls back up, Dean drives off, leaving me alone in the blistering heat with Tyler by my side. I can see the sweat on his biceps and the way his tank top clings to his toned chest, and I can’t help but gulp.

  “Just so you know,” he says as he begins to walk, and I follow suit, “it was your ass that gave it away.”

  My lips form a surprised O and I automatically glance down at my attire. Maybe today was a bad day to wear my fitted boy shorts. I feel self-conscious all of a sudden. “Um.”