“Mila, I want it with you, too. But I don’t want you to feel like–”
“I don’t feel like anything, except that I want you.”
That dangerous half-smile creeps onto his lips.
“Then you have me,” he says. I smile and kneel down for another one of the sweetest kisses I’m sure I will ever have in my life. I look around now.
“My parents go back to Kelford tonight for some dinner. I’m sure Chase will make plans,” I tell him, raising my eyebrows. He reaches a hand up and strokes my bottom lip with his thumb, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
“Tonight it is,” he says.
“Yo, who wants burgers?” Chase calls from the side of the house as he walks up the deck steps. Ryder smiles at me.
“We do,” he says, hopping up and taking my hand. As we follow Chase toward his truck, Ryder lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it.
When we get to the boardwalk, the gang’s all there, already chowing down. Jules and Kirby are playing volleyball on the grass by the water against Teddy and Derrick. From the looks of it, the guys are struggling to keep up. When they see us grabbing a table, they finish up their game and make their way up to us.
“Hey, guys,” Ryder says, grabbing a few extra chairs and sliding them up to the table. He sinks down in the chair next to me and puts his hand on my thigh. I look around at the other people around us—mostly vacationers, families, a few groups of kids around our age—and think about how happy I am to have found this group of people.
To not be a visitor this time, to really feel like I’m home.
I think about what life will look like down the line for Ryder and me.
Maybe it’ll look a lot like this moment right now: hanging out with our favorite people, our fingers intertwined, in our favorite place. Our home.
After a little while, we run low on fries. I volunteer to go order more at the window. Ryder offers to go for me, but he’s not done with his burger, so I tell him I’ll go.
I’m one person away from reaching the counter when I can feel someone close in behind me. I feel the brush of fabric against my body.
“You’re not a local, are you?” a deep voice asks. I turn around to face him—a tall, bronzed guy that looks to be around our age.
“Sorry?” I ask.
“I see you hanging out with that crew a lot, but you’re not from Meade Lake, are you?” he asks.
I give him a look, and he chuckles.
“It’s easy to spot the out-of-towners,” he says. He sticks out a long, slender hand. “I’m Ricky. I go to school with those animals.”
I shake his hand hesitantly. I turn to place my order, but he cuts me off.
“Nah, give her the onion rings instead of the fries, Carlos,” he calls through the window. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing. And put it on my tab,” he says with a wink that almost makes me cringe. And I hate onion rings.
“Uh, I’m good, thank you. I actually will take those fries,” I say through the window, sliding a five dollar bill in. Carlos smiles at me then slides a carton of fries out to me.
I look up at Ricky, and he smirks at me.
“A lady that knows what she wants. I like it,” he says. He takes a step closer to me, then another, until I’m flush up against the food truck. I glance over at the table, but it doesn’t seem like Ryder or Chase has noticed yet. I swallow. I’m fine. We’re in public.
I shimmy out from his overbearing shadow and slide over to the condiment counter. I pour some ketchup into a plastic cup then go to turn back to the tables. But Ricky steps in front of me.
“So, listen, some friends and I were gonna go out on the water tonight. I’d love to show you the lake,” he says.
“Thanks, but I’m out on the water all the time,” I say, taking a step around him. But he blocks me again, this time reaching for my arm. I can’t help but notice his grip around my wrist. He doesn’t strike me as dangerous or forceful, but he strikes me as someone who normally gets his way. Especially with girls.
“Not like this you haven’t,” he says with a smile. “Not with a local.”
“Actually,” I say, “my boyfriend is a local. I get the local tour quite often.”
He cocks his head and lifts an eyebrow.
“Boyfriend?” he asks.
“Boyfriend,” Ryder says from behind him, making Ricky jump slightly. I bite my lip to keep from smiling.
“You date Casey?” Ricky asks, jutting a thumb out toward Ryder.
“I do,” I say.
Chase appears next to him and lifts his elbow to Ryder’s shoulder.
“She does. So we’re good here. Thanks, Romeo,” he says, reaching out to take the carton of fries and turning on his heel. I smile to myself. My boys have my back.
Ryder reaches a hand out for me—one I take gladly—and I scurry away from Ricky’s reach. We turn to walk away when Ricky calls his name.
“When are we getting back on the water?” he asks him. Ryder’s eyes grow wide. He looks down at me then looks back to Ricky.
“We’re not,” he tells him. Ricky scoffs.
“Still got a bad taste in your mouth from the last time?” he asks with a smile. I look up at Ryder, wondering what I’m missing.
“Something like that,” he says, snaking his arm around my shoulders and leading Chase and me back to the table.
“We’ll be out there tonight, Casey,” Ricky calls. “If you decide you wanna stop being a pussy and redeem yourself.”
I can feel Ryder’s muscles tense, but he doesn’t turn back to Ricky. He just keeps walking toward our tables.
“What is he talking about?” I ask when we’re out of Ricky’s earshot.
“Yeah, what was that about?” Chase asks.
“Ah, it’s nothing. We used to race when we were younger,” Ryder says with a casual wave of his hand.
“Race?” Chase asks, and I see this little flame ignite in his eyes. My brother, the eternal thrill seeker.
“Out by the dam, we used to race our boats. Real stupid,” Ryder says. “I don’t do it anymore.”
“Why not?” Chase asks.
“We almost crashed once,” Ryder says, unable to lift his eyes to mine. “So I stopped. When I met you.”
I swallow, my heart rate picking up. I squeeze his hand.
When we get back to the table, Jules and Luna are standing up and pulling their purses over their shoulders.
“Where ya goin’?” Ryder asks.
“We were gonna run to the bookstore in Oakton,” Luna says. “You wanna come, Mila?”
A new book does sound good. And I have been missing some female bonding.
“You guys are such nerds,” Shane says. “Books over the summer.”
Jules picks up a fry and chucks it at him. He catches it and pops it into his mouth. They exchange this smile, and I feel something between them. They act like siblings sometimes, noogies and playful shoving, bickering over plans. But there’s something between them.
“We have to get attached to fictional men since the ones we hang out with are so lame,” she says with a smirk.
I look to Ryder.
“Now we can fish,” Chase says, slapping Ryder on the back. Ryder smiles at me and kisses my cheek.
“Go. Have fun,” he says. I smile and kiss him back. As I pull away, he whispers in my ear.
“But tonight is mine,” he says. I bite my lip then scoot out from the table.
Shopping is fun, and I can’t remember ever getting along so well with two other girls. They are so laid back, so genuine. I smile at Luna’s stories about growing up on the mountain and at the way Jules can’t help but bring Shane up.
Yeah, definitely something there.
Jules helps me pick out a few new romance novels, and Luna settles for a new cookbook she’s had her eye on for a few weeks.
“You know,” Luna says after a few minutes of silence on Lakeside Highway, “I’ve never seen Ryder Casey like this over any girl.”
“Like what?” I ask sheepishly.
“I don’t know,” she says. “Like he can’t live without you.”
I swallow.
“Me either, come to think of it,” Jules says. “He’s different. He moves a little slower. Takes his time a little more. It’s cool.” She smiles, and so do I.
I hope he will always take his time when it comes to me, because I want every second he will give me.
It’s dark now, and I suddenly can’t wait to get back to the house.
Tonight is mine.
We drive a few more minutes until we reach Lou’s, and then the sky turns purple.
Blue and red lights flashing.
And the quiet night air is suddenly blaring with sirens. Cars are pulled over on the side of the road, and as we get closer, we see people standing everywhere, staring down at the water.
“What the fuck?” Luna says, pulling over next to the other cars. We all get out, and something in the air changes.
Jules is staring at the water, her mouth agape.
And then Luna is clued in to whatever Jules sees. Her eyes widen, and her mouth opens.
I look down at the water, the huge dam at the edge, now with a huge hole in it where a mangled boat is perched.
“Oh, my God,” Jules says.
“Jules!” we hear Derrick say. He’s down the hill, waving his hands to her. She swallows.
“Luna, stay here with Mila,” she says, her eyes trained on Derrick.
I feel Luna’s hand snake around mine, her grasp hard and firm, like she’s afraid she’ll lose me.
I see Derrick telling Jules something, and then I see her whole body start to shake. Derrick wraps his arms around her then lifts his eyes slowly to us. They walk back to us.
“Mila,” Derrick says, his voice shaky and cracking, “that’s...that’s Ryder’s boat.”
I swallow, this loud buzz filling my ears and making it difficult to hear anything else.
I make out the words “Ryder and Chase” and “racing.” I swallow, and my ears pop, and then I rest my eyes on Derrick.
“Mila, the police are trying to get in touch with your parents. Can you give me your phone so I can get it to them?” he asks. I’m on autopilot. I reach my hand down into my bag and hand my phone to him. He hands it to Jules, who takes off toward an officer. And then I come back down to earth.
“Oh, my God!” I scream, wriggling out of Luna’s grasp, blowing past Derrick, and running toward the water.
Before I make it, I feel Derrick’s strong arms wrap around me, pulling me back from the black water in front of us. People are staring as I scream and try desperately to escape his grasp, but I don’t care. Luna is helping him hold onto me, and we all collapse onto the ground.
Derrick clutches me to his chest, and Luna squeezes my hand as tears fall from her eyes.
My heart is in two halves, and they were both on that mangled boat that’s crashed into the dam.
By some sort of divine intervention, my parents had gotten in a fight before they left for home, so they had been late leaving. They were only twenty minutes outside of Meade Lake when they got the call.
Now, the three of us are sitting in the chairs of the ICU at Meade Hospital, wondering how the fuck we got here.
When my parents got to the scene, they were still working on Chase.
A police officer, an Officer Trout, had begun chest compressions until the paramedics arrived. They had gotten a weak pulse, threw an oxygen mask on him, and sped to the hospital.
When we got here, the doctor told us he coded twice on the way to the hospital. Both times, they were able to get his heart beating again. He was hooked up to a few other machines, and they were working on what sounded like every part of his body.
He has broken ribs, a broken wrist, and a broken femur, but what the doctors are most concerned about is the swelling in his brain.
None of us have spoken. We just sit here, staring blankly ahead, wondering how the fuck we got here.
A doctor comes out from the back, the solemn look on his face not exactly lifting my spirits.
“Chase has deep gashes in his head and on his face from when he was thrown from the boat into the brick wall of the dam. He’s lost a significant amount of blood,” he tells us. They weren’t sure how much he’d lost at the scene, but they knew it was significant. “He also has severe internal bleeding that we’ve been unable to stop.”
My dad and I look at each other and roll up our sleeves.
“All three of us have the same blood type,” he tells the nurses.
“I think it might be a…I don’t know how much good it would do him now, unfortunately, young lady,” the doctor says.
I ball my hands into fists and pound them onto my chair.
“He needs it. Take it!” I scream at him. My mother wraps her arm around my shoulders. The doctor drops his eyes to the ground, knowing there’s nothing more to say.
“Mr. and Mrs. Walton,” the doctor says, “we’re doing everything we can, but Chase isn’t responding. It might be best to go back with him. We will allow you and your daughter to be with him in the intensive care unit.”
My parents both turn slowly to me. We all know that that’s not a good sign.
“Come on, honey. Let’s go back in there,” Dad says to me.
But my legs feel like lead. I can’t stand the look of Chase. Bloody, battered, swollen. Completely unrecognizable. I tell my parents to go ahead.
“I’ll be in in a minute,” I tell them.
I walk toward the edge of the waiting room, leaning up against the cool brick wall and inhaling slowly. I’ve been fighting off waves of nausea since I watched the paramedics push the stretcher carrying my brother’s mangled body up the hill and load him into the ambulance. I close my eyes. I picture the last moments my eyes saw them both.
Ryder’s big green eyes, smiling at me as he promised me the best night of my life. Chase’s blue eyes that match my own. Then I picture the boat flying way too fast across the glass water. I imagine the sound it made when it crashed into the brick of the dam, like some sort of explosion.
“Mila?” I hear him ask, and suddenly, the blood running through my veins feels hot. I open my eyes slowly, and I see him standing there, awkwardly, a few feet away from me.
I see his Aunt Winnie in the corner of the waiting room, talking to a police officer.
My eyes trail back to Ryder, and I see his shirt covered in blood. My first instinct is to lunge for him, feel for a cut, ask if he’s okay. But I’m frozen.
“It’s...it’s not mine,” he says, looking down at the ground, realizing what I’m staring at. And then suddenly, I’m enraged.
“I know it’s not yours,” I say quietly, my eyes burning holes in his face. He can’t look at me.
“Mila...I...what are they saying?” he asks cowardly, still looking down at the ground. I want to scream. Every ounce of energy in my body wants to pound him into the ground until he’s as bloody and broken as Chase. But I can’t. Because I don’t know if Chase is going to live.
And there’s also a small part of me that was terrified, at first, that the one who might not make it was Ryder.
Just as I’m about to speak, an alarm goes off, coming from Chase’s room. I see a huge team of people rush in while a few more rush out.
I hear the beeping of machines and see the blinking of lights flashing on the door from the hallway.
There are a few seconds of quiet, and I hear one of the doctors mumble something.
Then I hear my mother scream.
And if I’m not mistaken, I hear a sob escape my dad’s lips.
A moment later, I see the doctor and his team step out of the room. He’s tugging off his bloody gown and rubbing a hand over his face.
I look at Ryder. My brother is dead. Ryder killed my brother.
His eyes grow wide, and he finally lifts them to mine.
“You did this,” I whisper. I see tears welling in his eyes. “This is because of you.�
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“Mila, I’m...” he says, his lip trembling. Aunt Winnie is still watching us from the corner of the room, her hand covering her mouth. Suddenly, Ryder takes a step closer to me.
“Mila, I’m so sorry. I...” he says, and now, he’s reaching his hands out to me. I pound my fists against his chest, then jump back and scream.
“Don’t touch me!” I call out. I can feel twenty heads turning to us, and I don’t give a good goddamn about it. “You’re a fucking murderer! He’s dead because of you!”
But he doesn’t stop. He takes a step closer to me, and in that moment, I realize he’s trying to pull back. He’s trying to stop time, reverse it. He wants to hold me. He wants to be the shoulder for me. He wants to fix my heart.
But he can’t. Because he’s the one who has totally shattered it beyond repair.
He takes one more step toward me, and I slap him so hard my hand stings.
“Don’t come near me. Don’t speak to me or my family again. You’re dead to me, Ryder,” I say, taking a step toward Chase’s room. Then I turn to him once more, ready to deliver one final blow.
“I wish it were you instead.”
21
I’m lying on one of the chaises out on the deck, wrapped in a thick blanket, staring up at the stars. The night air is chilly here, even in the thick of summer, and the sky is usually bright and clear.
I’m struggling with whether or not to let myself feel what I felt when I heard Teddy’s words or to try and let it go.
These last few months with Ryder have been so much more than I ever imagined. A continuation of our story, albeit, a slow one. But it’s been just the right pace.
Until now, that is.
Over the last few days, I’ve found myself unable to stop thinking about him. Unable to stop reminiscing about our earlier years when it wasn’t so complicated for him to be my everything.
I think about his body, wonder about the parts of it that I haven’t seen in years, wonder how much more of a man he’s become, in every way, shape, and form.
I think about how comfy it was to feel him next to me on the couch the other night and wake up to him the next morning. And how easily I could get used to that.
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