All I Ever Wanted

by Marilyn Brant, Caisey Quinn, Rhonda Helms

  “Kennedy,” she objected. She tried to grab the bag off my shoulder, but I held fast. “Fine, Macho Man. Carry the damn bag.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. Girls were always trying to be so proper and sweet around me. Not Bree. Never Bree. I missed that. Didn’t she get that I needed that? I needed people in my life who would give it to me straight. I needed Bree, who lived life on her own terms. I needed her to stand by me while I took a stab at doing the same.

  My smile fell away as she walked down the hall and my eyes glued themselves to the sexy swish of her ass in those tiny black pants she slept in.

  I gritted my teeth and averted my eyes. I wasn’t going to add another nail to the coffin of our friendship by letting her catch me ogling her ass. I was pretty sure feeling her up during that stupid dance contest had pushed my limits enough. And having her sleep in my bedroom tonight? I was contemplating a night on the couch.

  As I followed her downstairs, I didn’t look at her ass once. Four or five times? Maybe.

  “I need a snack before we go.” She hit a switch on the wall and flooded the kitchen with light. “Dad said he had the maid stock the fridge.”

  I pulled open the fridge and studied the contents. Chocolate milk, Lunchables, chocolate pudding. “You eat like a four-year-old.” I moved to the pantry and found a basket labeled “Bree” with Cocoa Puffs, Pop-Tarts, and Doritos. After grabbing the chips, I joined her at the island, where she was already opening up a bottle of chocolate milk and a container of pudding. “I can’t believe you still eat this crap. Most girls would kill to be able to eat junk food all the time and have your body.”

  She waved away the compliment and dug into the Doritos. “Mom used to be like this, but she said it caught up with her about the time she hit twenty-five. I figure I’ve gotta enjoy it while I can.”

  “How is your mom anyway?” I asked. “Is she still living in LA?”

  She shook her head faintly, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “She’s moving to Paris.”

  Shit. Leave it to Bree’s mom to put an ocean between herself and her daughter.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “That sucks.”

  She nodded but kept her eyes locked on her glass of chocolate milk.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Her smile was strained when she said, “What’s there to talk about?”

  Aubree

  This was probably an opportune time to tell Kennedy about my move. Mama didn’t raise a coward, so I lifted my eyes to meet his and took a breath. Only the words that came out of my mouth had nothing to do with my plans. “How’s your dad?”

  It was Kennedy’s turn to avoid eye contact now. We didn’t used to be like this. We told each other everything. Had I ruined that? He kept his eyes trained on some invisible point behind my head. “He’s already set up my desk at the office. He’s ready for me to graduate, move home, work at the business, and eventually step into his shoes as mayor.”

  That sounded miserable. Kennedy deserved more than to live a carbon copy of someone else’s life. But I just said, “Wow. That’s amazing.”

  “Right. I’m the luckiest guy in town, I guess.”

  I dropped my Doritos halfway to my mouth. The man had such a good poker face that I could never read him. This was no exception, but I didn’t need to be able to read him to know he didn’t want his father’s life. “Could we drop the bullshit?”

  He frowned. “Why are you the only one who knows I’m more than the next piece of the ‘Hale legacy’?” He made air quotes around the last words.

  I didn’t have an answer for that.

  He stared at me for several long beats before he spoke. “My coach at Waskeegee thinks I have a chance at the pros.” He broke his chip into five tiny pieces. “I probably wouldn’t be drafted, coming from a no-name football school, but he thinks I could get on a team’s practice squad and work to get noticed.”

  Something funny was happening with my stomach—this twisting, curling, flip-flopping of nerves and excitement. Never, not once had I pushed Kennedy into taking his football talent more seriously. When he’d chosen to go to Waskeegee because of their excellent business and political science programs, I’d kept my mouth shut instead of pointing out the equally amazing opportunities at Big Ten schools, where he might make a name for himself. When he played along with his dad’s plans to make Kennedy the next Abbott Springs mayor, I’d bitten my tongue instead of asking what he’d do with his love of football. Kennedy had enough people making all his life decisions for him. He didn’t need to add me to the mix. But if he wanted to try to go pro, if it was his idea, that was something else altogether.

  He swallowed so hard I could hear it. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you.”

  “I think you’re finally making plans that make sense for you instead of everyone else.” I reached across the bar and put my hand over his. Our fingers intertwined, and my already spastic stomach nearly lost its shit. “You have to follow your passions, Kennedy. Abbott Springs and the family business will always be here, but the chance to play pro ball? Unlike a lot of dreams, there’s a timestamp on that. You have to try now.”

  “I might not make it. They might not want me, even on a practice squad.”

  I shrugged. “I’d rather know I tried than wonder.”

  “It’s just that simple with you, isn’t it?”

  “Why shouldn’t it be? It’s your life.”

  He grunted. “Tell that to my dad.”

  “I will,” I promised. “If this is really what you want, I’ll be there when you tell him, and I will happily remind him that this is your life, not his.” I couldn’t handle the closeness anymore, so I extricated my hand from his and stood to put my dishes in the sink. “Ready?”

  “If you are.”

  Kennedy led the way out the back door and two houses over to his parents’, my second home growing up.

  “Bree!” Mrs. Hale threw her arms around me the second we pushed through the side entrance to her home. She drew me into her in a hard hug. “It’s so good to see you, sweetheart!”

  I will not cry. I will not cry. “It’s good to see you too,” I whispered, and in my voice I could hear the tears I refused to let in my eyes. There are two kinds of family: the people who share your blood, and the people who share your life. For years, the Hales fell into the second category for me, and I had no good excuse for neglecting them.

  “I hope you don’t mind me sending Kennedy to get you. I just couldn’t stand the idea of you sleeping there. Thanks for humoring an old lady.”

  “I wanted to see you anyway,” I said, shaking my head. In all honestly, I was relieved she’d insisted I come over here. I hated being alone in that big house.

  “I didn’t even have to physically restrain her to make her come home with me,” Kennedy said dryly.

  “Of course I’m selfishly thrilled that I get you for the weekend, though I am sorry you won’t see your father.” She took my hand in one of hers and grabbed my bag with the other.

  I followed her up the stairs, my heart aching at the familiar scent of the only place that ever felt like home. The hardwood floors were polished to a shine and the air smelled of fresh flowers.

  “I’m sure Kennedy explained why you’ll need to share his room tonight.”

  Aubree

  I nearly tripped over the last step and had to grab the handrail to right myself. “Um. Actually—”

  “I’ll just sleep in the den, Mom,” Kennedy said behind me.

  “That’s not necessary,” I said, thinking I should be the one to sleep on the couch.

  Mrs. Hale misunderstood and nodded. “See, it’s no big deal, Kennedy.” Then she led the way to Kennedy’s bedroom. We followed, bringing along the elephant of awkwardness between us. “I’ll let you get settled,” she continued, putting my bag on the bed. There was something sad in her eyes.

  “Listen, I know you were hoping I’d make it for Christmas. I just—” I shook my head. How many tim
es had I gone over this conversation in my head on the plane ride over? How many platitudes had I tested, only to decide there was nothing to say? I’d been hiding from holidays in Abbott Springs since I left. Holidays made me want to come home for good, and coming home made me feel like a failure.

  “Don’t you worry about it.” She took my face in both of her hands, and her eyes filled. “I hear your mom’s going to make it home for the festival this year.”

  My chest filled. “Finally.” I couldn’t help but smile. Mom had promised to come back every year since the year she’d left when I was fifteen, and she’d always changed plans at the last minute, too busy in her life of glitz and glamour. Whether she was leading or chasing that life, I wasn’t sure.

  Intellectually, I understood my mom was as likely to bail on Winterfest this year as she had every other year, but there was still a little girl inside me who thought maybe this was the year she’d show. It didn’t matter though. When I moved to Paris, I’d see her all the time.

  “What can I get you?” Mrs. H asked. “A bedtime snack?”

  “I’m craving hot chocolate,” I confessed. “I can’t find a cup of hot chocolate anywhere in New York as good as yours.”

  “Of course you can’t,” she said with a smile. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  She shuffled out of the room, leaving Kennedy and me alone with our pet elephant, Mr. Awkward Pants.

  We spoke at the same time. “I don’t have to—”

  He put up a hand. “You’re the guest. Take the bed.”

  I looked pointedly to the made-up air mattress in the corner of the room and shook my head. It didn’t matter. He’d made it more than clear that he didn’t see me that way. “You can stay in here. You know your sisters will wake you up before dawn if you sleep downstairs.”

  His blue eyes grew serious, and for the four hundred and ninety-eighth time since arriving back in town a few hours ago, I wished I knew what he was thinking.

  “I’m going to go down for some hot chocolate.” Though I knew I wouldn’t be able to stomach it right now. The craving making a mess of my insides was for sex, not sweets.

  Mrs. Hale met me at the foot of the stairs. She’d probably been waiting there this whole time. She squeezed my arm and pulled me closer, threading her arm through mine as we walked into the kitchen. “Can I tell you something?”

  I wasn’t very good with emotions and stuff, and I knew that was what was coming. Mrs. Hale was all about the emotions. “Um. Okay.”

  “I’m worried about Kennedy. I don’t think he’s happy. He’s distant, and as anxious as we are to have him back home, I don’t think he’s ready to leave school.”

  I reminded my feet to keep moving forward and trained my face into a mask of respectably detached concern. The truth was, I wanted to spill the beans to his mom. She’d understand why Kennedy needed to go after his dream, and she’d stand behind him even if—when—her husband threatened to disown his son.

  “Do you think you can talk to him?” she asked. “Feel him out? See if there’s anything we can do or something we should know?”

  I settled into a kitchen chair and watched her as she poured thick cream into a pan and placed it on the stove.

  “I don’t think he’ll want to talk to me,” I objected.

  She gathered sugar and cocoa from the cupboards. “Kennedy doesn’t talk to anyone, and you know how intense his dad can be. He’s all expectations, all the time. But I know if Kennedy is going to open up, it will be to you.” She shook her head and forced a smile. “Enough about that. Let’s talk about you. Are you still seeing that young man I met when I was in the city?”

  “Ramey?” Had I seriously introduced my emo, nihilist ex to a woman sweeter than hot cocoa? “No, he’s not in the picture anymore.”

  “Do you still love the city? Think you’ll stay?”

  I swallowed. “Actually, I’m not going back to New York. After Winterfest, I’m moving to Paris with my mom.”

  “Paris?” The word was a choked question from the other side of the kitchen.

  We both turned to see Kennedy, his hands tucked into his flannel sleep pants.

  “To live?” he asked.

  “For college,” I said. “Mom wants me to live with her while I get my degree.” I wished he’d look angry or disappointed. Anything but that blank expression that revealed nothing.

  He shouldn’t have found out this way.

  “You must be so excited,” Mrs. Hale enthused. “Paris, the city of love. And you’ll get more time with your mom too. That’ll be nice.”

  Kennedy

  Paris. She was going to Paris. Was I supposed to be happy she was going to live with her mom and not just relocating to follow another guy in her string of losers? Instead, knowing she was going to live with her mom made it worse. Because it made it more permanent somehow.

  “Congratulations,” I said, but the word sounded strained even to my own ears. We both knew I was full of shit. “That’s great.”

  “I’m excited. I’ve applied to these art schools and if I get in, it would be an amazing experience.”

  If she got in? I bit back my criticism. That was just like Bree to relocate to a different country for college when she didn’t even know if she’d been accepted to said college yet. And the fact that this entire decision relied on her mom?

  “Do you want some cocoa, Kennedy?” Mom asked as she handed a steaming mug to me.

  “No. I just came down to say goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, dear,” Mom said.

  “I’ll try to be quiet when I come in,” Bree whispered. Her eyes were sad, and I knew she was disappointed in my reaction to her news. She was moving to Paris. How had she expected me to respond?

  I excused myself and headed upstairs, where I climbed under the covers on the air mattress and stared at the ceiling in the darkness.

  If I’d handled things differently in October, would Paris still be in Bree’s plans? I’d handled it horribly when I realized who the naked girl in my bed was, and I’d handled it horribly tonight. Bringing it up at Juke’s had been careless. I should have thought it through before I broached the subject. I just didn’t understand what she wanted from me. She was all about taking the risk and going with the flow. She leaped before she looked. Case in point? Paris.

  It wasn’t long before I heard the soft creaking of the stairs and Aubree coming into the room. She didn’t turn on any lights, but I could make out her silhouette as she grabbed her bag and headed into the bathroom.

  When she came back and climbed into my bed, I thought about climbing in after her. What would it be like to be carefree like her? To take a chance when every indicator said you would fail?

  “Kennedy? Are you awake?” she whispered.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and didn’t answer. I wanted her too much, and the news of her move had left me too raw.

  Aubree

  Either he was sleeping or he wasn’t speaking to me. Fine. What could I say anyway? Hey, if you would’ve fucked me silly instead of freaking out back in October, maybe I’d stick around?

  Not only was that ridiculous, it wasn’t true. If Kennedy had responded like I’d wanted him to, if he would’ve given us a chance, it’d probably all be over by now. Because that was what happened with me. I screwed things up.

  The LED light flashed on my phone from the bedside table, letting me know I had a text.

  I grabbed it and grinned when I saw it was from Everly. Jubby just told me the funniest thing about Bernie. Did you know she got caught stripping on the courthouse lawn?

  Poor Bernie—nothing stayed quiet in Abbott Springs. I tapped out my reply. Heard tonight. I’m back in town. Staying at Kennedy’s, as per usual since Dad is MIA (also as per usual).

  Kennedy’s? Well, don’t let him sleep with you. He’ll act like it never happened.

  My teeth clenched as I read her reply. No matter how many years and miles between myself and that moment I’d seen him making love to her by the
lake, I never managed to escape that horrible feeling in my gut every time I thought about them together.

  Kennedy just made it worse with all his talk of her. How he screwed up. How he wished he hadn’t cared so much about his parents’ approval. How he never meant to hurt her.

  Everly had slept with Kennedy at Winterfest last year. Sex, by the lake, in January. Yes, alcohol had been involved. When he proceeded to act like nothing had changed between them, she didn’t take it well. To say she carried a grudge would be like saying Winterfest was a little cheesy. Winterfest was complete cheese balls, and Everly thought Kennedy was the anti-Christ for what he did to her. I totally got that Kennedy had hurt her, and I had gone through my own phase where I was angry about it—not that I’d admitted that to either of them. But the more I thought about it—and trust me, I thought about my unrequited crush having sex with my best friend far more than I’d ever admit—the more I realized that his reaction was typical Kennedy.

  A pink-haired Abbott, Everly didn’t fit into Kennedy’s dad’s plan for his son, and as such, Kennedy had saved Everly from a world of hurt by skirting a relationship with her. I was jealous of that. Because Kennedy’s parents would probably love nothing more than for him to end up with me. I might have been a little wilder than their son, but I was a Baxter, and old money mattered more than tattoos and the color of your hair in this town. The idea that he could be with me just made the fact that he wouldn’t hurt that much more.

  I waited a few minutes before composing my reply, but I settled for something simple. It’s been a whole year, Ev. Either tell him how much he hurt you or let it go.

  She didn’t reply, and I lay in the dark, thinking of October and wondering if I needed to take my own advice.

  Tell him how much he hurt you or let it go.

  Everyone thought I was brave for moving wherever my whims took me, for chasing whatever I fancied at the moment, but they didn’t understand that was all cowardice in disguise. Maybe I was brave enough to show up at Kennedy’s dorm, but I was too chicken to admit to him why I’d been there, to tell him how much his dismissal had hurt. I couldn’t. It would be like opening myself up and handing him salt to pour into the wound.