I jerk back.
Christian’s eyes crinkle. “I was just playin’ around. I didn’t mean anything.”
Oh God, I freaked out and hadn’t even realized it. I’m so tired of this. “I’m sorry. It’s not you.” I playfully return the nod he gave me. “Should we go to the main room?”
He shrugs, and I wonder if I’ve offended him. We walk through the kitchen and into the main hall. At the end of it is the front room where they hold all the major events. It’s packed with a lot of the usual kids I see here and some new faces, too.
“Brynn! Christian!” Brenda’s voice rises above the noise. She happily jogs over to us before pulling me into a hug. “Good to see you here, mija.”
“What about me? Is it good to see me here, too?” Christian asks.
“Of course it is. You know that.”
With that, someone calls her name again and she’s running away. “She loves this.” Christian looks at her. “I think it’s a little crazy, but different strokes, I guess.”
We both watch his mother help one of the teen guys hang something, and then she’s laughing with him. Her joy radiates all the way across the room. “It makes her feel good to help. Maybe like she can fix the past by making the present a better place.”
Watching her, I think I might want that, too.
When Christian doesn’t speak, I risk a glance at him. His jaw is set tight, his eyes still plastered on his mom. Ugh. I shouldn’t have brought up their past.
“It’s bullshit. It wasn’t her fault.”
I’m suddenly hoping Christian says more. Maybe if he talks, then I will. We can both unload our baggage together.
“What?” he asks. “You’re staring at me.”
He’s right. I’m totally staring at him.
“Brynn!” Emery walks up to us. “Wow. Look at you, socializing and stuff. With someone other than me, that is. You brought your very own hottie.” She looks at Christian, who seems to pull out of his trance. He looks at her like he thinks she might be a little crazy. Maybe he’s right.
“What? He’s not my hottie.”
“But you admit I’m hot?” Christian asks.
My eyes go wide as I look back and forth between them. “What? That’s not… I…” What the heck do I even say? Christian’s hot. A girl would have to be blind not to see it, but I can’t tell him that. Can’t take that step that almost feels like…flirting. I also can’t say no, either.
“I think she’s going to self-combust,” Emery says.
Christian takes me in with his too-blue eyes. “It’s cool, Bryntastic. I think you’re hot, too.”
He turns and walks away, leaving me battling the war going on inside between the parts of me that should tell him never to say something like that again…and the part that likes it.
…
“So what’s with you and the guy?” Emery asks as we take a seat in two of the chairs spread throughout the room. I’m not sure where Christian went, but I keep glancing around the room for him.
“Nothing. He’s my neighbor.” He’s also the first boy I ever danced with. The first boy I ever thought I loved. Of course I know now that I didn’t but at the time it had felt real.
“I wish my neighbor was that hot.”
I whip my head toward her. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”
Her eyes dart around the room. “Shh! And no. I told you Max is my ex. You promised you wouldn’t mention him.”
“I’m sorry.” I have no right to care if she thinks Christian is hot, anyway.
“It’s okay.” She’s quiet for a minute, but I can feel her eyes on me. Feel them probing me for answers, and I’m not sure if I like it or if it makes me want to run again.
“Something happened, didn’t it? With you and a guy.”
Yes. Something did happen. My mom died and Dad got lost and I thought Jason loved me. I just wanted someone to love me again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Whatevs. It’s no big deal.”
Earlier, I’d been looking for an opening with Christian, but here Emery is giving me one. As hard as it is, I know I need to take it. “I was pregnant, too… I lost my baby the day I found out everything my boyfriend ever told me was a lie.”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh no. I’m so sorry.” Absently she puts a hand on her stomach, as if to make sure her own baby is fine.
“I’m sorry about it all, too,” I whisper. There’s so much more I can say, but I don’t try to make the words come. Not today.
“Thanks for telling me. You’re actually pretty cool.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Umm, thanks? I think.”
We both giggle. She pulls up another chair and puts her feet on it like she did last time. Then, thankfully, she changes the subject. “I know. I’m probably milking it a little, but I swear, my feet do kill me.”
“That’s okay. You have a good excuse.” All her clothes look new. She’s wearing long sleeves and stretch pants under a skirt. “Where do you live?” I ask.
“A foster couple took me in. Can’t have kids of their own. I don’t get why that makes them want to deal with a pregnant teenager, but since I have nowhere else to go, it works. They eye me like a friggin’ hawk, though. I guess they don’t get that I can take care of myself.”
She shouldn’t want to take care of herself. I used to think the same thing. Not that my parents weren’t there for me or anything, but I just sort of thought I had all the answers. If that were true, Jason wouldn’t have gotten to me. “Will they get your baby?”
“What? No. That would just be creepy. I couldn’t live with the person who’d soon be a mother to my daughter. It would be too hard.”
My heart jumps at that. “It’s a girl?”
“Yeah…” She almost sounds a little sad about that. “We just found out not too long ago.”
The urge to take away some of her unexplained sadness rolls through me. “I was adopted. I got picked by the best mom in the world. My dad, too.” Then it’s like some of her sadness kind of leaks through to me. This ache fills the pit of my stomach for how much I miss my dad.
We live in the same house, but I miss him so much.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” She looks down at her stomach. “I want her to be happy, ya know? I know who she’s going to and they seem like good people, but you just never know.”
Without even thinking about it, I reach over and touch Emery’s hand. “She’ll be happy. I know it.”
The words pulse through me. Ride on my heartbeats and swim through my veins. I want to be happy again, too.
“Thanks. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so much more emotional than I used to be,” Emery replies.
Just then, Christian steps up beside us. “You ready to go, Bryntastic?”
I glance at Emery.
“See ya later,” she says and then mouths, So hot!
Shaking my head, I say, “It’s not like that.” I stand up and again don’t let myself hesitate before saying, “Maybe we can hang out sometime? Like…do something. I don’t know what, but—”
“That’d be cool.”
“Okay, what’s your number?”
I gasp when Emery shoots out of her chair and hugs me. Her arms wrap around me so tightly, it’s hard to breathe. It takes me a second, but then I hug her back. As we stand there, I realize she’s not as strong as I thought. She needs people, craves love the same way I do. The way she hugs me shows that.
Once we unravel from each other, we exchange phone numbers. It’s not until we get out the door that Christian says anything. “I see her now.”
I stop and look at him. “Um, see who?”
“You. The girl I used to know.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Now
For the next week, Christian and I rotate who drives to school each day. We eat lunch in the hallway together. I wonder if he’d rather be with everyone else, but he seems okay, sitting on the ground, eating gummy bears and playing his guitar.
In my car on Friday after school, Christian’s in his own world in the passenger seat with his hood pulled over his head. I watch him pluck his jeans like they’re the strings on his guitar. His eyes are closed as he leans his head against the seat. His lips move like he’s singing a song. Little whispers come out of his mouth, but I can’t understand what he’s saying, so instead I watch his brown hair and see how it hangs around his face. I wonder what it would feel like between my fingers. What his little whispers would be like against my skin.
Emery was right. It’s not like I haven’t always known it, but Christian is gorgeous.
Beeeep!
“Crap!” I jerk the wheel to the left, embarrassed that I swerved into the other lane while watching him. I have no business looking at Christian like that.
“Spacing out, huh?” He chuckles and I know he knows what I was doing.
“Whatever.”
“We’re back to that word again? I thought you could talk to me now, Bryntastic.”
“I am talking. You’re just trying to embarrass me, and I won’t let you.”
“You’re hot when you’re feisty.” His voice is playful when he says it, but the words make me freeze again. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it. I used to love to joke around. I can’t let myself lose that part of me. So I make myself roll my eyes.
“Whatever,” I say again with a smile.
He doesn’t reply. In some ways, he’s so wide open. Like he doesn’t have a secret in the world and he will say anything. But in other ways, I’m not sure I ever really know what’s going on inside him. He’s good at staying quiet and losing himself in his head. He wasn’t like that when we were younger. He was loud, always talking and screwing around.
I wonder if that changed because of everything with his parents. Because of things with his sister.
It’s only a minute later that I pull into my driveway. Dad’s car is in there, which surprises me. He’s not usually back this early.
“We’re home,” I say before realizing it’s stupid. Of course we’re home. Christian lives here. I’m pretty sure he recognizes the place.
“That we are.” He winks at me before getting out of the car. I take a deep breath and then do the same. My eyes dart to Dad’s car next to mine in the driveway before I look at Christian. He’s leaning with his arms on the top of my little Toyota.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asks.
I can’t help but wonder why he wants to know. He hasn’t asked me anything like this before. Does he want to take me on a date? The thought makes nausea and excitement strum through me at the same time. But then, one date will lead to two. That’s when guys start wanting more.
But I have plans. I can’t believe I almost forgot I’m going out with Emery. It’s been so long since I had something to do.
“I thought maybe we could hang out. I could work on my music and you might be able to do your clay stuff, or something.”
Oh. This has nothing to do with a date. Just the fact that he knows I’m all screwed up and can’t do my pottery. “Pottery,” I tell him.
Instead of replying, he says, “Hang out with me.” There’s a huskiness in his words that sends me back to my previous thoughts. Could Christian, the boy I crushed on all those years ago, like me now? I don’t want it to happen. Can’t let it. The only boys I’ve ever even kissed besides a stupid game of spin the bottle were Ian and Jason. Ian never really cared about me, and Jason just wanted to use me. He saw a girl he could take advantage of.