Nope.
Nope.
Nope.
“Dude,” Miller calls, “stop harassing my sister and come on. I see Shelby at the gate.”
A quick look over and sure enough, there’s Shelby and Rita Mitchell, Miller’s current flavor of the week.
He doesn’t release me, not right away. And I swear, swear, his eyes flick down to my mouth more than once. I swallow and hope he can’t feel how hard my heart is pounding. Slowly his arms loosen, and I slide to the ground, landing on two feet.
“You better catch up with Shelby,” I say.
“Right.” He unlatches his arms and releases me. Instantly, I miss the warmth and safety of his embrace.
“Our photo is scheduled for eight-thirty,” I call out to everyone after I’ve come to my senses. “Don’t be late.”
Julian walks off and joins Miller. I look away when Shelby throws his arms around him.
“What. Was. That?” Avery asks, once we’re out of earshot.
“I think that was me and Julian reestablishing our big-brother/little-sister relationship.”
Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead. “If that’s what that is, then please have your mother adopt me, too. Maybe if we’re related, I can finally get Miller to give me a second look.”
We walk up to the ticket booth just in time to hear Shelby say, “Where were you all day? I kept texting you.”
“Just busy cleaning out the house, Shell. I didn’t have my phone on me.”
He’s unaware that I’m behind him, that I heard his lie. I wonder what Shelby would think if she knew we’d spent most of the day together?
They slip through the gate and Avery and I purchase our tickets, following them in. I lose my brothers pretty quickly as they cut through the crowd, heading toward the food. We go directly to get our skates.
“Maybe you should ask Miller to couple skate,” I suggest as we redeem our tickets for skates. The guy working behind the counter drops the scuffed shoes in front of me. I pick them up. I’m not a great skater. None of us are, really, despite those late night practices.
“Ha, ha,” she replies, grabbing her own skates, “we’re not fourteen.”
“Hey, I don’t think much changes between fourteen and twenty as far as dating goes. It’s all about putting yourself out there—making a gesture. It can be in a bar or at a football game or on the ice rink.
“He’s here with Rita Mitchell.” We sit on a bench and start lacing up the skates. “And you’re talking very bold for someone who’s been mooning over Julian Edge for the past few days.”
“I am not mooning.”
I am watching them, though. I’d lost them with my brothers when they walked in, but now I see them getting their own skates. Julian’s eyes skim the rink, like he’s looking for someone. Shelby leans in close. That girl is unafraid of showing her intentions.
“Let’s forget about boys,” I tell Avery. I struggle to my feet, standing at a slant, and offering her a gloved hand. “Will you couple skate with me?”
“I’d love to.” She grins and accepts my hand. I pull her up, but we wobble, totally off balance. This makes us burst out laughing. There is no way either of us could actually couple skate with anyone without breaking a leg.
We make it out on the ice, slowly skating around the edge. Christmas music floats from the speakers, and for the first time all season, I really feel like it’s the holidays. The air from the ice makes my nose and cheeks burn from the cold, but I’m hot from the exertion. Slowly, I get into a groove, and I allow myself to forget about everything going on and just enjoy the moment. A true, pure, holiday moment—something harder and harder to find.
Avery and I circle the rink, avoiding kids learning to skate, and couples insisting on holding hands while blocking our path. I’ve just rounded the corner with a little grace when I hear a familiar cry. I turn and search for Avery among the winter clothing. I spot her sparkly sweatshirt on the ground, tangled in a heap with a guy. With bent knees in an attempt to keep my balance, I skate over to where they’re sprawled on the ice.
“Are you okay?” I ask when I reach them.
“I am so sorry,” Avery says to the guy. Their legs are totally intertwined.
He looks up at her with a stunned expression. “No, that was my fault. I got going too fast and completely lost control.”
I watch as they struggle to their feet. Avery doesn’t get far.
“Ow,” Avery cries, grabbing for her ankle.
“Did you hurt it?” I ask. She and the guy are still kind of tangled together. I sense someone skate up behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see Julian.
“Everything okay?”
“I think Avery hurt her ankle.”
“No, it’s okay,” she swears, but then winces when she tries to put pressure on it.
“Come on,” I say, “I’ll help you off the ice.”
“Let me help,” the guy says.
“We’ve got it,” Julian cuts in. “But thanks.”
“I really am sorry.” He’s on his feet now, clutching his hat. He watches us help Avery to her feet with a concerned expression in his pale blue eyes.
Avery smiles, even though it’s laced in pain. “It’s okay. I’m a klutz, and there’s no way that was all your fault. We can call it even.”
We guide her off the rink, doing our best not to fall as we do so. The guy she crashed into follows. At the edge of the rink, he quickly takes off his skates.
“Please let me help. I feel terrible.” When she doesn’t argue, he bends over and picks her up, bridal style. “Tell me what you need. Do you need to go to the hospital? I can call an ambulance.”
“No. It’s not that bad. You don’t have to carry me.”
He glances around and his eyes land on the firepits scattered around the back lawn. “There’s an open seat over there. Let’s go check it out.”
I catch Avery’s eye, making sure this is what she wants. She gives me a small grin and a thumbs up while the guy isn’t looking.
“That would be great,” she says.
As they head off I hear him say, “I’m Adam, by the way.”
They’re gone in a heartbeat, leaving me and Julian still standing on the ice. He glances at me. “Should we follow them?”
“Probably? Maybe? I guess her time on the ice is over. I should at least take her shoes over.”
I ease off the ice and head back over to the bench. Julian follows. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Shelby?”
“I ditched her by the bar. She didn’t want to ice skate, and I didn’t want to be responsible for a drunk Shelby all night.”
I unlace my shoes, feeling the ache in my ankles from doing something new. I rub the tender spot, and Julian frowns.
“You hurt, too?”
“Just sore.”
“Let me see.”
“My foot?”
“Yes, your foot.” He grabs my foot and places it in his lap. I stare at his long fingers as he starts to massage me though my sock. What is happening? “Better?”
I swallow and nod, unable to speak. His fingers feel nice—strong and firm. My skin tingles, even though he’s not touching me directly. It feels good—too good—and my reaction is not the kind a girl has for her brother.
I look across the rink and see Van and Miller walking our way.
“Crap,” I say suddenly, jerking my leg away. I place my foot on the ground. “What time is it?”
He checks his phone. “Eight-fifteen.”
“We need to get everyone together for the picture. Mom will kill us if we don’t.” He nods, cheeks flushed. “I mean, we need to commemorate these sweaters, you know?”
He nods again, not speaking, which makes my brother’s arrival all the more appreciated.
“You guys ready for the picture?” Miller asks.
“Where’s Tillman?”
“Getting in line for the picture.”
“Where’s Avery?” He asks in return, looking around.
“Avery totally crashed into some guy. They’re over by the firepits checking out her ankle.”
Miller frowns. “Is she okay?”
“Let’s go see.”
We return our skates, then as a group head over to the firepits. Avery’s ankle is elevated on chair, and she and Adam are laughing about something. Miller stands a few feet away, fists balled.
“Oh boy,” Julian mutters, as we walk up.
“What?”
He grimaces. “Nothing.”
I grab his arm. “Something, what’s up?”
He rubs his forehead. “Look, he’s never said anything, but Miller? I think he has a thing for Avery. Always has.”
I stare at him. “You’re kidding.”
“Yeah, like I said, he’s never confirmed it, but I know Miller pretty well. I know the girls he dates, and I think I know why he runs through them so quickly. None of them are the right one, and he’s pretty convinced the one he wants isn’t the one he should have.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s your best friend? Because she’s too good for him? Because he’s a knucklehead?”
I want to tell Julian that Avery feels the same, but I’m watching her with Adam—I can’t help but see the sparks flaring between them. If Avery’s in pain, it’s overwhelmed by something else. Maybe it shouldn’t be so hard. She and Miller have had a million chances—he never took one.
“Well, it looks like maybe he waited too late.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I guess maybe he did.”
I feel Julian’s eyes pinned to my back as I go over and get Avery. Adam doesn’t hesitate to help her to her feet and provide support as we go line up for our “family” photo.
The mood is light as we wait, whatever angst Miller felt lifts when it’s our turn, helping Avery hobble up for the photo.
“Ho, ho, ho,” Santa calls when he sees us. “The Fleetwoods! You’re back!”
“Santa!” Van shouts. “I know him!”
Tillman leans down and gives the bearded man a hug. This photo has been a tradition for years, one of the few Mom makes us follow through on.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be in the picture?” Julian asks as the elves arrange us. Somehow we end up next to one another.
“Mom started these pictures before we were all adopted. One kid adding on as we joined the family.” I look up at him, his hair glinting in the lights hanging from Santa’s little house. “Miller is right, Jules, you’re one of us, if you like it or not.” I point at his stupid sweater. “The sweater proves it.”
He smiles and even though I know he’s sad about his mom being gone, there’s genuine warmth coming from him.
“Squeeze in tight,” the elf calls. She looks at me and Julian, gesturing to the space between us. “You two, act like you know one another.”
He shrugs and tosses his arm around my shoulder, squeezing me against his side. He’s warm and smells amazing.
“Tighter!”
I wrap my arms around his middle and press my face against his chest.
The elf gives us a thumbs up and a moment later the camera flashes, commemorating another Christmas. I don’t miss that Julian’s arm hangs over my shoulder long after the flash, and I’m not sure if he realizes I squeeze him a bit longer and harder than necessary.
I know in my heart that this may be the last Christmas he’ll be on the island. The last time we’ll mark this version of our family, and I’m not quite ready to let go of that yet.
9
Julian
Little by little, the house comes together. The sale is in three days and although things are chaotic, I don’t feel the same stress as I did when we first started.
“Do you want this?” Collins asks, holding up a roll of wrinkled wrapping paper. Another one of my mother’s favorite things, wrapping paper and cards.
“No,” I say, “trash or sell.”
She studies the paper. “Do you mind if I take them? I’ll pay for them.”
“Take it,” I say, absently.
“Well, we aren’t really supposed to take things from the sale. It’s weird because we’re friends. I really should pay for it.” She hesitates. “How much do you want?”
She’s looking at me expectantly, eyes curious and totally sincere. Her hair is up in a knot on the back of her head and pieces hang down by her ears. A smear of dust crosses her cheek, our hands are coated in it from cleaning out the closet.
She looks cute—more than cute—gorgeous. I haven’t been able get her out of my mind since the night of the skating rink. We’d made a few declarations—cowardly ones. Re-establishing the fact we’re more family than anything else. Quasi-siblings. It was bull, even in that silly cat sweater I’d thought she was the most beautiful girl I knew. Always had been, always will be.
Yet I hadn’t just been friend-zoned. I’d been big-brother-zoned.
The problem is that I’m not okay with that.
“How about you take whatever you want from the house, and you repay me with a bacon and egg biscuit.”
She narrows her eyes. “That doesn’t seem like enough.”
“Well, we can up it, how about a burger at the Dive?”
She hesitates, the old, worthless paper clasped between her fingers. My heart pounds in my chest, I’d pushed it too far. Asked for too much.
She opens her mouth and I wait for the rejection. It’s justified, and I tell myself I won’t push this any further.
“How about a burger and a shake?”
I fight and lose the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I swear, swear, she’s trying not to smile back.
“Deal. Tonight?”
She nods. “Tonight works.”
We work side by side for a few more minutes, the reality of what we’ve just agreed to settling in. I desperately hope she can’t hear how hard my heart is pounding.
“For the record,” I say, trying to lighten the awkwardness, “I plan on ordering a double cheeseburger with bacon.”
“I expect nothing less.” Without another word she walks out of the room, leaving me and my racing heartbeat by myself. I’d asked Collins out. Sort of. A different set of adrenaline sets in: panic.
10
Collins
“He asked me out.”
“Who?”
“Adam,” Avery says. “We exchanged numbers the other night and he texted, then we called, and now we’re going on a date.”
Avery sits on the floral chair in the corner of the crow’s nest, eyes bright. It’s been a long time since she’s gone out with anyone. Normally I’d be ecstatic, except Julian told me Miller likes her—something she’s long wanted—and it’s putting me in a tight spot.
“That’s great,” I say, not letting my reservations show. “He seems like a nice guy. A klutz, but a nice guy.”
She laughs and picks up a paint brush, stroking the fine bristles across her palm.
“I have some news, too,” I tell her, looking down at the project on my desk. I’m still trapped in this retro Christmas theme. Something about the Edge house is getting to me.
“I’m listening…”
“I think I also have a date.”
Her eyes pop open wide. “With who?”
I grab an eraser and rub at a pretend spot, avoiding my friend’s eyes. “Uh, Julian.”
For a moment, there is complete and utter silence.
Finally, I look up. Avery’s jaw is dropped, and her eyes are wider than before. “Did you say with Julian?”
“Yes, and the word ‘date’ may be an exaggeration. We’re going to dinner as part of an arrangement we made for me to pay him back for some things I wanted at his house.”
“An arrangement.” She looks skeptical.
“Yes, I wanted some things, and you know we can’t take stuff from the houses we work on—it’s unethical. I offered to pay, and he suggested I do it by going to dinner with him.”
She rubs her chin. �
��So it was his idea?”
“Yes.” Nerves flutter in my belly. I’ve been in a state of half-panic/half-bliss all afternoon.
“I think you may be right. You and Julian are going on a date—under the guise of a bargain because you’re both too lame to admit you like each other.”
“It’s a stupid idea, isn’t it?” I grip the eraser. “He’s leaving town after Christmas. Like, for real leaving town. The house will be sold, he’ll go back and finish school. He’ll get his dream job in the city and at best, we’ll see him if he comes down to visit Molly.”
“Or maybe, it’s the perfect idea. Maybe you guys get a week or two to explore this.” She gives me a tight grin. “You’ve liked him for a long time, Collins.”
I don’t want to admit it. I never have wanted to admit it, but she’s right. I have and if I don’t take this chance, I may never forgive myself.
“Odds are we’ll go to the Dive, and he’ll end up playing darts with Miller and leaving with Shelby Rose.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s Julian Edge. He’s only interested in me right now because we’re hanging out all the time.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t be so sure.”
I look back down at my project; it’s just a dozen different pieces, all taken from the Edges' house. None of them fit together or make any sort of artistic sense, other than the fact they’ve lived in close proximity.
Kind of like me and Julian.
11
Julian
We agree to meet at the Dive. Her request. I know meeting there is not a great way to start a date, but there are underlying issues if I picked her up at her house. Primarily, her brothers. I’m not afraid of them. Well, not Van. Tillman probably won’t care, although I wouldn’t want to be on the other side of his fist if he did. Miller? Miller and I will need to talk. I should have already talked to him.
After Christmas Page 5