I only wish I could say the same.
The similarity between the two photos is not lost on me. I may be absent from the more recent pic, but I left one helluva souvenir in my place. Extricate the suck-ass best friend, and in return, Brady, you get a hunk of metal signifying Sebastian’s failures and a lifetime of hardship to boot. Irony sure is a motherfucker these days.
My fingers twitch to turn the page, turn to the page, half of me knowing it’s a terrible idea and the other half of me knowing I have no choice in the matter. I’ve only seen the words once in my life, when I snuck a peek just days before the accident. Autumn told me I wasn’t allowed to look at her inscription until I got to college in the fall—I lasted a day. She had known my dodgy relationship with rule following and all things authority. I can’t imagine she’d be surprised I gave in.
In one swift move, I flip to the back of the yearbook and run my fingers over the fluid loops and swirls of the ink. The first time my eyes drank in her words, they were stolen kisses, stomach drops, and whispered “I-love-yous.” Now, all these years later, I feel that strong and hopeful heart cracking under the pressure.
Sebastian Parker Kelly,
I fight back tears every time I think of us being apart. How can I go even a day without seeing the boy who’s held my heart for as long as I can remember? Where in the world else would I be, if not with you?
Then I close my eyes and think of the feel of your fingers interlacing with mine. I hear the steady beat of your heart as I rest my head on your chest. And more than anything, I feel what we are to each other.
And I know the truth …
No amount of distance can separate a love that started with pigtails and skinned knees. No amount of time can erase a feeling that’s as ingrained as breathing.
A year is nothing when we have a lifetime ahead of us. And I can’t wait to live my life with you.
Remember, wherever you go, I’ll follow, Seb. I’ll always be by your side.
Wait for me.
I love you,
Autumn
A sharp rap on the door rips me from my thoughts. I blink away the memories and look up at a curious Isaac.
“No need to knock, dude. It’s not like there’s a door anymore,” I say with a humorless laugh.
He shrugs and takes a quick look around the room. Isaac’s unruly hair, relaxed smile, and laid-back attitude are so opposite from my straight-laced and rigid brother, it’s actually jarring. But today, he’s a bit punchy, overly tense and seemingly at a loss for words. Given the circumstances, it’s completely understandable. Losing your grandparents in such a tragic accident, regardless of how well you knew them, is enough to rattle any kid.
I assume Isaac spends most of his time living with his mom and stepdad since Lance is career military, always off to the next deployment. The thought makes me feel a sort of camaraderie with him, knowing how stifling it can be to follow in the shadow of the great and disciplined Lance Kelly. With a fourteen-year difference between us, there were many times when Lance felt more like a father to me than a brother.
“Dad asked me to check on you,” he says, rubbing a nervous hand over his neck and not quite meeting my eyes. “Do you need any help loading up or packing?”
His eyes dart to the stack of empty boxes against the wall and quickly move back to the floor. Part of Isaac’s unease is undoubtedly from losing his grandparents, but it may also be due to me acting like an unlit stick of dynamite. He hasn’t had enough happen to him to waltz into the shit-storm of emotions swirling around this room without flinching.
Lucky kid.
I close the yearbook and clench it shut, trying to stop the flood of memories as I shake my head and chuckle. “Nah, Isaac. Thanks, but there’s nothing you can do to help me.”
Chapter 4
Dear Autumn,
Meet me behind the pool house after the public swim. Travis says we aren’t real boyfriend and girlfriend unless we kiss.
P.S. - I don’t really care what Travis has to say. I just want to kiss you.
Seb
Autumn - Thirteen Years Old
The Past
Prosper, LA
“Do you think he’ll stick his tongue in your mouth?”
Sandy squeals at the thought, but I freeze in terror. What if he does stick his tongue in my mouth? I’ve never French-kissed a boy before … I’ve never regular kissed a boy before. The only experience my lips have comes in the form of Gramps and Grams, and there was definitely no tongue involved.
Oh God, I’m going to be sick.
If I could titty-twist that stupid Travis Mottley, I swear I would, the meddling jerk. This isn’t how my first kiss was supposed to go, and it’s all his fault for being the bully that he is. If it weren’t for him, Seb’s and my first kiss would be under twinkle lights, in my best purple dress. My hair would be braided and twisted, and my lips would shine with strawberry Lip Smackers gloss.
I had it all planned out. We would be just like Edward and Bella at the prom.
“I’m going to be sick,” I say, clutching my stomach through my damp bathing suit and dropping my head between my knees.
The humid air of the pool house dressing room feels too thick to breathe. Goose bumps erupt on my tight, sunburnt skin and my stringy, half-dried hair sticks to my neck. I run a hand over my head and feel the baby curls cork-screwing around my forehead like a frizzy crown of straw.
Just great. Sebastian Kelly, the Sebastian Kelly, wants to kiss me, and I look like a sunburnt, one-piece wearing, poodle-headed chump. He’s going to take one look at me and realize I’m still too young to be his girlfriend. I sure as heck have no idea what to do if he sticks his tongue in my mouth. I should have practiced with my pillow, but my stupid baby brain didn’t even think about French kisses.
“Here,” Sandy says as she hands me half of a chocolate bar. “I don’t have any mints, but chocolate breath is the next best thing.”
I shove the candy into my mouth and shimmy my flip flops onto my damp feet. The chocolate dissolves into a sweet, goopy mess, but I’m afraid the galloping horses in my belly will toss it back up if I swallow.
“What if he does, Sandy? I don’t know how to kiss like that.” I pull my cover-up over my body and throw my swimming bag over my slumped shoulders. I swallow the candy with a forced gulp before standing to leave.
Sandy grabs my hand before I make it very far and huffs out a laugh. “Autumn, calm down. This is Seb we’re talking about. You’ve lived down the street from him your whole life. He’s taught you how to pop a wheelie on your bike, how to fish, how to sneak out for Friday night hide-and-seek. So, he’s going to teach you how to kiss today … so what? Seems kind of perfect to me.” She shrugs and rolls her eyes.
My racing heart calms and a warmth washes over me because, of course, she’s right. I’ve got nothing to be afraid of because Sebastian Kelly has been teaching me things all my life. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
“And, I mean, he’s fourteen. I’m sure he’s practically an expert kisser by now.”
My jumbled nerves are replaced with grating jealousy, and I give Sandy’s shoulder a shove.
“I doubt he’s an expert,” I mutter. “I mean, I’m thirteen, and I’m completely clueless.”
There may have been a couple of meaningless girls before me, but I know the truth. Seb has always been biding his time, waiting for me.
* * *
I run my hands over the paint-chipped cinder block of the pool house and peer around the corner. Travis’s pinched face comes into view just as he lets out a pig-like snort. My lips curl in disgust, and I think of a hundred ways to knock that jerk down a couple of pegs. John and Pierre laugh right along with him like they always do, and their groupies, Reagan and Ruthie let out a spray of giggles.
I spot Seb at the exact moment he spots me, and my lips curve into an excited smile, the doofuses beside him completely forgotten. He’s got a foot propped against the wall and his hands shoved into the po
ckets of his bathing suit. He didn’t bother to put on a shirt, and his worn-out running shoes cover his sockless feet. He tips his head in my direction and smirks.
Why does he always look like he’s got a master plan brewing behind those eyes? Probably because he does. Why am I always game for whatever he has planned? Because whether we’re having fun, getting in trouble, or doing nothing at all, by his side is the very best place to be. Always.
Sandy grabs my shoulders as she peers over me, and I nearly topple to the ground. I catch myself before falling to my knees, but I’m no longer hidden behind the side of the pool house. All the laughing and tittering stops, and I shoot a nasty look over my shoulder at Sandy.
She shrugs and scrunches up her nose. “Oops.”
“Right,” I grit out.
“Well, look who decided to show up,” Travis says, slow-clapping like the little jerk he is. He separates himself from his group of friends and puts a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “I told Seb you probably wouldn’t show. I told him you were just a scared little sixth grader—”
“I’m going to the seventh grade,” I interrupt, putting a shaky hand on my hip. I keep my grip tight so he won’t see the tremble. I smile, eyes slits and my voice steady. “And I’m not scared of anything.”
“That’s my girl.” Seb’s voice is barely louder than a whisper, but my confidence soars at his words.
He pushes off the wall and saunters toward me, smirk firmly in place and his hands still shoved in his pockets. He stops about a foot away, and I tip my head up to meet his eyes. The insignificant voices and fake laughter fade into the background, right where they belong.
“Hi.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I giggle.
“Hey.” I bite my lip and my gaze darts to the ground, the awkwardness of this situation making me cringe.
Sebastian Kelly has seen every bum knee, snotty nose, and temper tantrum I’ve ever thrown. Our lives are too interlaced, too singular for this kind of awkward. I shoot another scathing look behind Seb at that fat-faced dill hole.
He tosses an annoyed look over his shoulder in Travis’s direction, then turns back to me. He leans closer and whispers in my ear, “I don’t like people telling us what to do.”
His arms slide out of his pockets, and he sets them in between us. Two writhing lizards jump and skitter in his palms as he holds them in place between his thumbs and forefingers. He hunches his shoulders to hide his prize and grins at me.
“You ready to run?”
“I’m always ready,” I whisper, a giggle of anticipation bubbling up in my chest. Matching smiles … mischievous grins … flipping, flopping reptiles … it all swirls between us and the air feels charged with anticipation.
“Are you two gonna suck face or what?” Travis taunts, shooting a conspiratorial glance at his band of idiots.
Seb holds my gaze and gives me a nod before shouting over his shoulder. “Hey Trav, think fast!”
Seb whips around, his hands shooting out in front of him, and Travis looks momentarily stunned, totally confused until … He reaches for his neck, feeling a tickle or touch of some kind. When his fingers close around the culprit, and his mind, ever so slowly, does the math, all hell breaks loose.
The most pansy-assed, girlish screech I’ve ever heard rips from Travis’s lips as he slaps himself silly, flopping to the ground. He’d make a two-day old kitten with a pink bow look downright manly right about now.
Momentarily stunned by the spectacle that is Travis, Seb tugs my arm to get my attention. I peel my eyes away from the carnage and catch a quick glance at Sandy, eyes wide, mouth in an astonished O. My feet tumble forward with another tug from Sebastian.
“Time to bounce,” he says over his shoulder as he darts across the park toward our neighborhood. I trail behind him, laughing the entire way as I keep peeking back at Travis sputtering in a dusty pile.
“I’m going to kill you, Sebastian!” Travis whines as he finally gets up off the ground. He takes off in our direction, but lucky for us, we’ve got a good lead. “Brady’s not here to save you this time!”
“Do your worst, girly-man!” Seb shouts over his shoulder, then howls with laughter.
Our feet pound the pavement, and I struggle to keep up and hold onto my flip-flops. We zig and zag through fences and backyards until the sounds of Travis and his gang become as distant as cars passing on the highway out of town. We round the corner of my street, and the fuchsia crepe myrtle in my front yard shines like a beacon.
Olly olly oxen free!
We’re almost to the cul-de-sac when Seb gives my arm a hard tug, pulling me between Mr. Jansen’s fence and the holly bushes. The weather-beaten wood pricks my back as he presses against me, fingers tangling in my damp hair. His panting breath brushes across my lips like the whisper of a touch, and I wish that it was. I want to feel the pressure of his lips on mine more than anything. And yeah, he better put his tongue in my mouth. My eyes drop to his parted lips, and all I can think about is bridging the distance between us. With a belly full of Pop Rocks and a heart set on fairy tales, my lashes flutter shut, and I surrender to him.
His thumbs dust over my cheeks, and he leans in closer. “No way was I going to let our first kiss happen that way,” he whispers, then lowers his mouth to mine.
The gentle pressure of his lips, the curl of his fingers in my hair, the thud of his heart beating in tandem against mine; I’ve dreamed of kissing Sebastian Kelly hundreds of times—thousands even—but nothing can compare with the real thing. On contact, his breath hitches, his fingers clench my hair, and we settle into the sweetness.
And when his tongue enters my mouth and slides against mine, a yip of surprise crawls up my throat, and I sag against him in a heap of gelatinous goo.
And when he pulls away, I’m out of breath and left with nothing but air between my ears. Hot air. And I whisper the only word I can pull from my jumbled brain.
“Wow.”
The drunken expression on Seb’s face tells me he agrees.
Chapter 5
Sebastian
Present Day
Prosper, LA
I hear the rustle of fabric and hushed condolences behind me as people exchange hugs and handshakes, but I keep my eyes trained ahead. My mere presence makes people in this town twitchy, so it’s better this way. I ignore them, and they silently admonish me. I won’t give them the courtesy of my thoughts. Not today.
With one hand resting on my parents’ coffins, I do what I should have done years ago. I open my heart to them in a way that they couldn’t do for me.
I should have called. I should have come back. I’m sorry I was too proud to right the wrongs between us.
I’ve always thought that one day my parents would show up in Haven to see their cast-out son. Maybe hoped is a better word. They would walk through the door of Fuel, take one look around at what I’ve accomplished, and they would finally be proud of me. They would look around and see how I’d turned failure into fortune. God, I’m such a fool.
Yes, Sebastian, you’ve ruined people’s lives, but this cappuccino is delicious. Great job, son.
Lance interrupts my thoughts with a firm hand on my shoulder. “Seb, time to wrap it up, man. Everybody’s clearing out, and these guys have a job to do. Mom and Dad know what’s in your head—you don’t have to stand here all day. They know.”
I didn’t notice the cemetery workers just a few yards away until now. They appear restless and more than a little put out. I meet Lance’s gaze, and he gives me a nod of understanding. Except I don’t buy it, because no way does he understand what’s going on in my head.
“Not all of us have a spit-shined halo hanging on our bedposts, big brother. My halo, for example, is rusty, dusty, and bent into the shape of a question mark. A goodbye from me is going to take a little longer than yours.”
“Bullshit. It’s time you stop doing this to yourself, man. You’re not that kid anymore. You may not have bridged the gap with Mom and Dad before they died, bu
t I talked about you all the time. They asked about you. All. The. Time. And they were proud of what you’re doing in Haven. They were proud of you, man.” Lance moves to stand in front of me, and his expression softens a bit. “You haven’t been that kid for years, and it’s time you see that for yourself. I know you’ve changed, whether you believe it or not, and screw anybody who can’t accept it and move on.”
“I thought I had, then I drive back into this shit-stain of a town, and the years between me and that kid melt away.” I release a humorless chuckle. “Move on. It sounds so easy when you say it.”
“Because it is. Let go of the demons. They already have,” he says with a look in the direction of the coffins. “It’s time you do the same. You’re already here in the belly of the beast. Do what you need to do … then you need to let it go.”
A large part of me wants to get the hell out of this town before it strips away all the walls and masks I’ve built, and there’s nothing left but the ugly truth of it all. There’s another part of me, one that I’ve only recently become acquainted with, that knows I can’t just walk away. They may have run me out of town when I was a stupid, gullible kid, but I’m a man now. It won’t be so easy this time around. And the threats of the past no longer hold the same weight they once did.
In hindsight, I’ve given too much energy and thought to the people of this town. Back then, they felt like giants hovering over a helpless kid, but not anymore. Their anger and hatred hold little significance in my life. I now know what’s important. What … and who?
Brady. Autumn. Mr. and Mrs. Norris.
My parents.
The son in me wants my parents’ forgiveness, even after all this time. The man in me needs to pardon them as well. Things were said and done that can never be taken back, but if there is ever a time to move on and let go, this has got to be it. Maybe they were just as sorry as I am … or maybe not. I guess I’ll never know. But my heart can’t hold onto this anger anymore. It’s needless and toxic, and it’ll rot me from the inside out if I let it.
Waiting for Autumn Page 3