by Sarah Sutton
“Better. Way better. The headaches are pretty much gone, except for when I wake up.” Which was really great, though I wondered when everything would stop completely.
“I’m really sorry about my evil porch,” he said, rubbing a hand down the edge of his bicep. “Guess you were falling for me a little early, huh?”
Did he seriously just say that? Trying hard not to outwardly cringe, I glanced at the menu that hung over the display of hand-dipped ice creams. Elijah ordered his usual—soft-serve chocolate on a cone—and the girl behind the counter was in the process of getting whatever Savannah had ordered.
“What sounds good?” I asked Jeremy.
“I’m thinking a slushy or something like that. How about you?”
“I usually order a vanilla raspberry swirl in a cup.”
Jeremy fished his wallet from his pocket. “I’m not much of an ice cream guy. Slushies are really good, though.”
The girl handed Savannah her cone stuck in a plastic cup and turned to Jeremy and me. He ordered for me, a small when I usually got a large, pulling out a ten. “You can keep the change,” he said to the girl, winking as she took the bill from him. Her cheeks pinked, and she went to work getting our orders together. I didn’t miss that she made his first.
“So.” He drew the word out, wavering on his feet as we waited. “Are you excited that this semester is almost over?”
“Yeah.” Aaand we’re talking about school. Probably not a great sign. “Only one semester left before graduation.” You know, hopefully.
“Here you go.” The girl offered the slushy to Jeremy before turning to me. “What did you order again?”
Jeremy slipped the straw between his lips. “I’ll meet you at the booth,” he said around the plastic.
He walked off toward where Elijah and Savannah were already seated, and I watched as the girl began to dispense my ice cream. You can do this, Remi. Really. You can. Your flight sense is only reacting because this is out of your comfort zone. You can do this. I shook out the tension in my fingers, popping my knuckles. If Elijah had heard it, he would’ve swatted at me, hating the sound.
After getting my order, I went back to where they sat and slid into the booth beside Jeremy, his arm almost immediately snaking around my neck and pulling me closer to him. Savannah glanced at my cup with disdain. “Is that stuff any good? Always seems so syrupy to me.”
“It’s good.” I dragged my spoon through the edge of one of the swirls, using the moment of silence to take a nice big spoonful. The rush of coolness crashed through my senses, creeping into my brain. “Maybe I just like a lot of syrup.”
“Twins,” Jeremy said as he knocked his large slushy against mine. “Elijah, you seem to be the only boring one. Plain ol’ chocolate?”
Elijah looked really interested in his ice cream cone. “Classic, I think you mean.”
“Jeremy, how’s the basketball season going?” Savannah asked, stabbing at her own ice cream with a spoon. “I haven’t been able to get to many games this year. Not with student council eating up my time.”
“Oh, it’s going great. At least my season is. The team’s, eh…we’ve been close in most of our games, but the other players let it slip through their fingers during the last half.” His eyes slipped to mine. “How come you never played sports, Remi?”
Uh, had he forgotten that past conversation? I made a face as I took in a giant spoonful of ice cream and spoke around it. “Never liked them.”
“That’s gross, Remi.” Savannah’s features screwed up. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
I had the biggest urge to just open my mouth to let her see the ice cream melting on my tongue, but amazingly, I resisted. And swallowed. “Sorry. But sports weren’t my thing. I played when I was little, but that’s it.”
“A bummer,” Jeremy said, pulling me closer. “I would’ve loved watching you.”
Elijah snorted at that, biting on the corner of his lip. I tried to meet his eyes to see what he was thinking—if I could just look him in the eye, I’d be able to tell—but he wouldn’t glance up. He wouldn’t lift his eyes to mine, not even for a millisecond.
“You never played sports either, right, Eli?”
I closed my eyes briefly. Another thing we’d talked about—Elijah’s nickname. I’d told him how Elijah didn’t like it, only liked it when I said it, but he didn’t seem to have listened to that, either.
A plastic-looking smile played at Elijah’s mouth. “Nope. My sports career began and ended with Remi breaking my nose.”
“What? You broke his nose, Rem?”
I winced at the memory. “Yeah. Gosh, Elijah, do you remember how much blood gushed from your face that day? I thought you were going to die.”
His lips twitched as he shook his head. “It was like we were filming a horror flick. Your mom about had a heart attack.”
“Okay,” Savannah said quickly, glancing at each of us. “Let’s stop. All the blood talk is ruining my appetite.”
A silence fell over the table at that, and each of us studied our respective ice creams. Jeremy took a pull from his straw, the clogging noise almost obnoxiously loud. He smacked his lips together. “Did Terry ever break any bones?”
Elijah’s gaze lifted as I pulled in a sharp breath. “What?” he asked.
Jeremy leaned forward on the table, dropping his arm and propping it against the top. “Did your brother ever break any bones? I remember he played football, didn’t he? Football’s a tough sport to play without getting any injuries. Any broken legs or arms or anything?”
I tried to stop him. “Jeremy—”
“No, he didn’t break any bones,” Elijah replied in a tone I never would’ve expected. Light and airy, as if he were mentioning the weather or something boring. Not at all the tone he’d used with me when we were shopping. The fact that he was talking to Jeremy so nonchalantly made my stomach drop. “At least, not that I can remember.”
Savannah’s eyes were wide as she stared down at her ice cream cup, as if afraid to look anywhere else.
“About Terry,” Jeremy went on, obviously not reading the room. “Is it true that he robbed two gas stations in one night? At gunpoint? Word is they had hostages and everything. Someone put in an anonymous tip, or at least that’s the rumor. That’s what got them caught.”
Only one word could describe Elijah’s expression: scary. Scary calm. Scary blank. Jeremy’s words conjured an image of Terry in my mind, and I realized I hadn’t allowed myself to really think about him. Not really. His hair wasn’t blond like Elijah’s, but brown, the color of tree bark. They had the same dark eyes, though, but Terry’s weren’t nearly as luminous. How had he gotten himself into that situation? I remembered him hanging out with a strange crowd, but never in a million years would I have thought he’d be an accomplice to a robbery.
Terry had been a good kid. Kept his head down, helped others out, had great grades. He’d been kind, helpful.
Just like Elijah.
I cleared my throat, realizing that Jeremy still looked across the table and Elijah still looked back, neither one of them speaking. “Jer,” I said, jumping on the first thought that came into my mind to defuse the situation. “Switch. You try mine, I’ll try yours.” I pushed my cup toward him as I grabbed ahold of his blue straw, closing my mouth over it and drinking.
Jeremy lifted my spoon, effectively distracted. “Sounds unsanitary,” he muttered, but took a bite of my ice cream.
A golden light hung just over the top of our booth, casting Elijah’s face into a shadow when he leaned back into his seat, his free hand running through his hair. Something washed across his expression, something dark and sharp, but it was quickly masked. The only clue that it’d been there was a fine line between his light eyebrows. His eyes focused on my cup of ice cream, and he never answered Jeremy’s question.
We talked at the table a little longer, avoiding any and all topics of conversation that could’ve led back to Terry. Not that Elijah talked much a
fter that. After I’d handed Jeremy back his drink, Elijah fell silent, licking his ice cream slow enough for it to melt down the cone.
When we were all finished, it was determined that Savannah would ride home with Jeremy, since they lived on the same side of town, and I’d catch a ride back with Elijah.
It had started snowing a bit while we were inside Fred’s—either that or the wind was just pushing around loose snowflakes. The little crystals were swirling in the air and falling onto the ground, like they were trapped inside a snow globe. I wanted to stick out my tongue and try to catch one, but they weren’t falling steadily enough.
Jeremy wrapped an arm around my waist from behind, catching me before I got too close to Elijah’s truck. “We didn’t get to talk too much tonight,” he said with a pouty face, his bottom lip pushed out. “I would’ve driven you home, but I don’t feel like driving all the way to Grisham Street. Especially since it’s starting to snow.”
The “snow” was just flurries, but I didn’t say anything. “Yeah, I understand.”
When Jeremy tugged me even closer, I realized that he was about to kiss me. I had a split-second window to either let it happen or pull away. It wouldn’t have been a bad thing, kissing Jeremy. I’d been waiting for a long time for this opportunity, to kiss my long-standing crush. But even though all of that was true, I found myself tipping my head at the last second, his lips connecting with the edge of my cheek. When he pulled back, I tried not to see if there was disappointment on his face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Remi.”
I untangled myself from his arms, finding Elijah watching us just a few steps away. Savannah tried to hug him goodbye. “Pick me up tomorrow morning?” she asked him.
Elijah nodded, leaning away from her expectant lips. Despite the horribleness of it, I couldn’t help but fantasize what him not kissing her goodbye could’ve meant. “I’ll be there at my normal time.”
Savannah joined Jeremy at his car while Elijah and I walked the rest of the way to his truck. He didn’t look at me or say anything, and I glanced up at the sky, wishing the snow would fall heavier.
My boots caught on a patch of ice in the parking lot, one foot slipping in front of the other. I put my arms out to try and hold my balance, wavering as I almost face-planted into the frozen asphalt. At the last second, Elijah grabbed ahold of my upper arm, pulling me against him.
“Whoa,” I gasped, clutching at the edge of his jacket for support. The denim felt stiff and cold. “Look at me. I’m just determined to crack my head open.”
“No kidding,” Elijah got out, swallowing, and I looked up to meet his gaze. I’d looked at Elijah for years and years, but never before did a rush of energy zip through me when our gazes locked. A gust of winter wind tangled its fingers through his hair, brushing his golden locks across his eyes. I could stay here forever in his warm arms, just in this moment.
On a foreign impulse, I brushed the hair out of his face, his skin warm underneath my fingertips.
A strange look flashed across Elijah’s eyes and he released me. Without allowing a word or a second to pass, he started toward his truck, leaving me staring after him. It took me a moment to get my feet moving, and my heart beat much faster. How did those situations just keep happening?
Thankfully, Jeremy’s car was already pulling out of the lot. They wouldn’t have seen us.
I made it to the door—arms out wide to be extra careful and keep my balance—and settled in as Elijah switched the gear from park to drive. The glass fogged slightly from the air that pumped from the vents, still holding a chill as the engine warmed up.
Elijah lapsed into the same silence he had in the ice cream shop as we drove home, the glare of his headlights catching the falling snow, making it almost seem like we were traveling through time. The drive back to our street lasted less than ten minutes, but I found myself wishing it were longer, even though we weren’t speaking. I didn’t want the ride to end.
Until Elijah finally opened his mouth. “I know I’ve never asked, but I would appreciate it if you don’t talk to your boyfriends about my brother.”
“Wait, what?” My eyebrows slammed together. “Boyfriends? What are you talking about?”
“I know Jeremy loves gossip, but it’s none of his business.”
“He didn’t mean anything,” I said, turning in my seat to face him fully. Even in the dim light, I could tell his face was flushed. “And I don’t talk to anyone about Terry, Elijah. Ever. I don’t even know anything to talk about it.”
Elijah grew quiet again, choosing his words. He had his one hand resting on the gear shifter, the other loosely clutching the wheel, but nothing about his posture seemed relaxed. “Just forget it.”
The anger in the cab was so palpable that I could hardly breathe around it, the pinching in my chest almost painful. Gone was the beautiful feeling from a moment ago, when I’d been in Elijah’s arms, staring into his eyes. Long gone. “You know, Terry isn’t dead, Elijah.”
“Do you seriously think I don’t know that?”
I winced at his sharp tone, surprised it had come from him. “He made a mistake. It’s okay to talk about him like he’s a person who screwed up because he is a person who screwed up.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “You don’t know anything, Remi.”
“You’re right. I don’t, because you don’t talk to me about him. You say we don’t keep secrets? Well, then tell me!” My voice shook as it rose. I wanted him to just break open and spill out all his emotions and feelings, but Elijah didn’t do that. He shoved things down, pushed things away, didn’t deal with them. He was like me. And Mom had been right—he really should be talking, because it was only a matter of time before it spewed out. “I’m not Savannah, Elijah. I’m not going to judge you or pretend to listen, or—”
“This isn’t about Savannah.” Elijah cut me off, taking a sharp turn onto our street. “This is about us. No, it’s about you. You’re a—a bad influence on me.”
I blinked at him, brows drawing together. “Uh, what?”
“You heard me,” he said, voice growing with strength and heat. “A bad influence. Let’s take last Thursday, for example. Me shopping with you—did you know that that really bothered Savannah? She didn’t like the fact that I went underwear shopping with you.”
“We weren’t underwear shopping,” I protested. “I just wandered over there and you followed—that hardly counts as exclusive panty shopping.”
“And asking me to go to that party, to sneak out? Or even that stupid art project. Remi, I cheated for you. I lied to my favorite teacher for you. I faked a project to boost your grade and didn’t think twice about it. It was just second nature.”
I gaped at him, a tickle of pain lancing through me. How could he say those things? I mean, fine, yes, I did persuade him to go out, but I never asked him to turn in that project for me. But was he right? Had I influenced him somehow into doing it for me? Was I a bad influence? “Elijah—”
But he wasn’t finished. “My brother hung out around the wrong crowd, and look where it got him. That’s what happens when you’re around the wrong people. You make dumb choices that have severe consequences.”
“And you’re comparing me to those people your brother hung out with?” I demanded, feeling the burn of tears in the back of my throat. His anger, fully directed at me, was not something I’d dealt with before. Looking at it now, square in the face, made me want to run and hide. “You’re comparing me to criminals. How could you—how could you even say that?”
Elijah stomped on the brake just in front of my house, and the car slid to a stop after a second of hesitation. I jarred in my seat, my seatbelt holding me back. “I’m not in the right frame of mind to keep talking.” Elijah leaned across from me and reached out, his hand closing around the door handle, popping it open. Winter air swept in. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Elijah.” He didn’t even glance my way, just stared straight ahead. A clear dismissal. One last
look, please. Just let us work this out, Elijah.
But he didn’t look, and he didn’t speak again. After a second of strained silence, I climbed out of the cab of the truck and found my footing on the ground.
Almost immediately after I shut the door, he pulled away from the curb, driving down to round the end of the cul-de-sac. He eased the truck into his driveway and didn’t stop for a moment to glance back at me. In a matter of seconds, he was out of his truck and shutting his front door, not seeing me standing in the snow, staring after him.
Chapter Fourteen
I slammed the door shut, all but flinging off my boots at the back mat and letting them crash against the wall. My toes caught on one of the three shoe racks by the door and I yelped, kicking it out of my way with a giant clatter.
Mom rushed over with a bowl of salad in her hand, looking at me with a confused expression. “What in the world?”
“Your stupid shoe racks,” I said through gritted teeth, hoping the pain would subside in my toes. “You have so much junk in this house, it’s ridiculous!”
Mom’s eyes widened. “Whoa. Did something happen tonight?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She set her fork down in her bowl. “Why not, Remi? What happened?”
“Mom—”
“I’m your mother, you know, but I can be your best friend right now. You can tell me anything.”
“You’re never going to stop. Right?” I demanded in exasperation. “You’re never going to stop babying me. I’m almost eighteen and you’re still cooing over me straining my eyes or going out with friends. I’m almost an adult, and you treat me like I’m ten.”
Mom blinked at me, clearly shocked by my outburst, and I couldn’t blame her. Rarely did I raise my voice, and never at her. But everything had been bottled up for too long. Her hand hung half outstretched, as if she’d been reaching for me. “That’s what a mother does, Remi. And a mother also reminds her children that no matter how bad of a day they’ve had, they do not have the right to talk to people the way you’re talking to me.” She took a step closer. “I just want to hear more about your day, Remi. More about you.”