The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  No more bench for this guy.

  My dreams of going pro are restored and I feel like I’m untouchable—on top of the world. There is only one thing that would make tonight even more perfect than it already is. When I step into the dark night, I seek her out.

  She’s exactly where I left her before the game, standing by the gate in front of the field with a smile so bright she could light up the field. Our eyes lock and she pushes off the fence. Running toward me she lunges for me, wrapping her arms around my neck as I drop my bag to the floor and grip her hips.

  “I’m so proud of you,” she shrieks.

  Her voice is hoarse from all the screaming she did throughout the game.

  “Thank you,” I say, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she slides down my body and her feet touch the floor.

  “Let’s celebrate!” She grins, throwing her hair over her shoulder before she reaches for my hand and tugs me toward the bleachers.

  We should head home, but I don’t want this night to end so I follow her to the bleachers. Knowing the field is closed and we could get into major trouble for trespassing, she leads me under the bleachers. I spot the blanket first then her backpack and I turn to her with surprise.

  “What’s this?”

  “We’re not going to be kids forever, Jagger. One day you’re going to be a hotshot NFL player traveling the country. I won’t be able to celebrate every win with you, but I’ll always be the girl you celebrated your first one with,” she says.

  Her big brown eyes shine back at me and I realize she’s right. She’s going to be the girl I give all my firsts to.

  Every last one.

  “Come on, I got your favorite,” she says, tugging on my hand. We sit on the blanket and I watch her reach into her backpack and pull out a bag of peanut M&M’s.

  “My favorite?” I laugh.

  “Okay, so maybe they’re mine, but I’ll share with you.”

  “How big of you,” I tease.

  “Right? We all know how I hate sharing,” she mocks, treating me to a wink before she rips open the bag and pours a few into her hand. She turns to me, lifting one of the candies to my lips. “Open up,” she commands through a giggle.

  Her smile does weird things to me and I decide in this moment it’s my favorite part of her. If she’s right, if I make the pros and she can’t be at all my games, I’ll take her smile with me. I’ll tally all the smiles she’s given me from this night forward and take them wherever I go.

  My eyes zero in on the beauty mark placed on the corner of her lip, the beauty mark that disappears when her lips curve. I wonder what she would do if I kissed it right now. She’s my sister’s best friend, but she’s the girl I think about all day long, the girl I want to kiss really badly right now.

  “Jagger,” she whispers, holding the M&M to my lips.

  My hand reaches up for hers and wraps around her wrist, dragging it down between us as I lean closer to her.

  “Do you trust me?” I ask.

  “Of course,” she whispers.

  “You ever been kissed before?”

  I know she hasn’t but I want to hear her say it. I want to know I’m the first guy to ever touch his lips to hers.

  “No,” she admits.

  “Good,” I reply as I lift my hands to her face. “I really wanted to be your first.”

  My lips touch her beauty mark first and I hear her gasp slightly. I pull back to make sure we’re on the same page. Her eyes close and her lips pucker with anticipation, causing me to grin as my lips descend onto hers.

  At first I brush my lips against hers softly. I let her get used to the feel of me before my tongue sneaks out of my mouth and touches the seam of hers. She opens for me and I slide into her, tasting her for the first time. She doesn’t respond with her mouth but her hands grip the front of my shirt and I hear a little moan escape the back of her throat.

  “Kiss me back,” I say against her lips.

  I repeat my actions and this time when my tongue slides between her lips it’s greeted by hers. Finding her groove, she kisses me back and I wrap my arms around her waist. Leaning back, I lie down on the blanket and bring her on top of me. Our lips don’t part and our tongues continue to get to know one another for what seems like forever.

  When we finally come up for air, she touches her forehead to mine and smiles.

  It’s the first smile I tally.

  “We completely blew curfew,” she states.

  “It was completely worth it,” I retort.

  “Yeah, it was,” she laughs, snuggling into me. “I don’t want to go.”

  “We have to,” I remind her.

  Her father will lose his shit when I walk her to the door. He might not make headlines like his brother, but Mr. Spinelli is a big dude who wouldn’t think twice about smacking me around for keeping his little girl out. I really didn’t want to leave either.

  I trace my finger over the number on the back of her shirt…my number.

  “Hey,” I start and wait for her to lift her head before I continue. “Say you’ll be my girl.”

  Her eyebrows knit together as she studies my face silently.

  “Or not,” I add when she doesn’t respond.

  “You want me to be your girlfriend?”

  “If you want to be. I mean you already wear my jersey,” I say with a shrug before my grin spreads wide, matching hers. “I want you to be my girlfriend, Celeste.”

  “I’ll be your girlfriend but that doesn’t mean I’m sharing my M&M’s with you,” she warns.

  “As long as you give me your smile you can keep your M&M’s.”

  Right there she gives me another and I add it to the count.

  -Twelve-

  Cobra

  Age: 15

  Lying on my bed, I throw the football in the air and catch it. It’s funny how our lives can change so quickly. Last year at this time I was wishing and praying for my coach to put me in the game. Now a sophomore, I don’t play anymore. I didn’t even show up to tryouts. I’m lucky if I make it to my classes.

  I gave up on my dreams the night my sister’s future was stolen—the night she stopped dreaming.

  I can still see the flashing lights that crowded the streets the night everything changed. I remember holding Celeste’s hand as we walked home from the football game and the way her small hand squeezed mine once we realized the cops were in front of my house. My first thought was something happened to my parents. Then I heard my mother cry and my father order everyone to stop asking him questions and go find his daughter.

  For days they asked us the same questions over and over, wording them differently every time. They went door to door asking the neighbors if they remembered seeing anything out of the ordinary and lined the pizzeria she worked at with caution tape.

  Some said she ran away.

  Others said they saw a black van on the corner of the pizzeria.

  My parents mortgaged their house and put a reward out for anyone who might have information regarding her disappearance. All they got was a bunch of lowlifes calling the hotline with false information—using my sister’s life as a ploy to make a quick buck.

  We posted her picture on every corner, telephone pole and bus stop, praying that someone would come forward or that she would miraculously reappear one day. That day never came and every lead the cops chased wound up being a dead end.

  Days turned into weeks and weeks into months.

  Now a year later, she’s still missing and my life has completely changed. My parents fight day and night, blaming one another for her disappearance and when they’re not fighting they look at me wishing I was her.

  At school everyone talks behind my back, including my teachers. They pity me and try to get me to talk to a shrink. My friends or the people I thought were my friends like making up stories about how she went missing. Then there are the ignorant pieces of shit that never spoke to my sister, who probably didn’t know she existed until the day she went missing. Those assholes l
ike to tease and torment Celeste, tell her it should have been her because she was supposed to work that night.

  It’s a living hell and I wish I would disappear too.

  Something smacks against my window, jarring me away from my pity party and I turn my head. I toss the ball aside and walk toward the window. Pushing aside the blinds, I glance down and see Celeste staring up at me. I pull open the window and stick my head outside.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “You didn’t show up to school,” she calls up to me.

  Guilt fills me as I stare back at her. I know she hates going to school as much as I do these days. Most days I always show up, if for no other reason than to walk her to each of her classes, making sure no one fucks with her. A part of me does it because she’s been the butt of many jokes, the center of a shit ton of insults and the outcast of our entire high school.

  “Did someone mess with you?” I ask quickly.

  “No,” she replies just as quickly. “Are your parents home?”

  “No, meet me in the front,” I tell her.

  I make my way through the empty house that acts as a shrine to my sister and pull open the front door to find Celeste shivering outside. I grab her hand and pull her inside before closing the door and locking it.

  She glances around the house before turning back to me and toys with the zipper of her coat.

  “Happy birthday,” she whispers.

  I divert my eyes down and stare at my bare feet. As a kid I hated sharing my birthday with my sister. Our parents did a good job showering us both with attention and always bought two cakes, but it wasn’t the same. We always had joint birthday parties and fought over where they should be so they always wound up being in the house. Our mother would decorate half the house with pink shit and the other half with blue. It looked more like a baby shower than the cool birthday parties all my friends were having.

  Now I wish I could take it all back. I wish I could have a pink and blue birthday party, stand alongside my sister and blow out the candles on our cakes together.

  Today, Celeste is the first person to wish me a happy birthday and likely to be the only one, which is fine with me. I don’t want to celebrate my birthday ever again and I’m pretty sure neither do my parents.

  “I’m sorry, should I not have said that?” she asks softly.

  I lift my head and shrug my shoulders.

  “I know it’s not a good day, but I didn’t want you to think I forgot your birthday,” she adds, reaching for my hands.

  “It’s fine,” I tell her, clearing my throat as I squeeze her hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t show up to take you to school today.”

  Then I realize she should still be in school and not here wishing me a happy birthday.

  “Did you cut class?”

  “Yeah,” she admits, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Rebel,” I tease, quirking my lips slightly. I let go of her hands and wrap my arms around her before I drop a kiss on the top of her head.

  “Thanks for thinking of me, Cel,” I rasp, pulling away to look into her sad eyes. If I had one wish, I’d wish I could go back in time and change everything. My sister would still be here and I’d still be the guy tallying all Celeste’s smiles.

  It would be a waste of a wish because I can’t change shit.

  Sighing, I shove my hands into my pockets and look over at her, hating how sad she appears.

  She doesn’t smile anymore and I hate that.

  “You’re welcome,” she says, before she pulls her lower lip between her teeth. “I thought about getting you a present but I didn’t think you’d like that very much. I did stop at the store on the way here and picked up two cupcakes.”

  “Celeste—”

  “I won’t sing to you but we can sing to her and we’ll blow out the candles together and make a wish for her,” she rambles, reaching for her bag. She pulls out a twin pack of Hostess cupcakes and two candles.

  “Jagger, it’s still your birthday and I believe with my whole heart she’s somewhere wishing she could blow out the candles with you.”

  I stare at the cupcakes for a moment and hang onto hope that Celeste is right. That somewhere my sister is alive and not dead—that she’s turning fifteen today too.

  “I wished for you,” she whispers. “So don’t tell me wishes can’t come true.”

  Sometimes I forget that we’re fifteen and just two kids that should still believe in silly things like wishes. Desperate for a bit of normalcy, I reach for her hand and lead her into the kitchen. I grab the package of cupcakes from her hand and place them on the counter.

  “For Alexandria,” I say hoarsely.

  “Okay,” she agrees softly.

  I brace my hands on the counter and watch her tear open the packaging, poking the candles into the tops of the cupcakes. She grabs a lighter from her back pocket and lights the candles before turning to me.

  “Ready?”

  I nod as she places her hand over mine and we stare at the glowing candles. Celeste begins to sing happy birthday and half way through I join her. Once we’re finished, she holds up the first cupcake.

  “Make a wish for her,” she murmurs.

  I look back at her through the light of the candle and see the tears in her eyes, knowing they match the ones I’m fighting to hold back.

  I close my eyes briefly and make the wish.

  I wish for my sister to return to us.

  Opening my eyes, they lock with hers and together we blow out the candle

  “Happy birthday, Alexandria,” I whisper.

  I’m not naïve to think the wish will come true, but then I see Celeste smile. It’s a smile full of hope and for a moment I have hope too.

  She continues to smile as she lifts the second cupcake. This time when I close my eyes and blow out the candle I wish for Celeste to keep smiling so I can keep a tally again.

  “I’ve got one more surprise,” she says, licking the frosting from her thumb.

  I don’t think I can handle anymore birthday shit but I give in, desperate to hang onto her smile and another stolen moment of normalcy.

  She grabs my face and pulls me against her, pressing her lips to mine. She’s more brazen with her kisses than she was before, and every time her mouth touches mine there is a sense of urgency.

  “I love you, Jagger Richardson,” she whispers against my mouth.

  I don’t remember the last time anyone said those words to me but I’m sure it was before my sister went missing. I didn’t realize how badly I missed hearing them or how much I wanted her to say them until now.

  Our lives changed a year ago.

  Violence stole our innocence, and she stole my heart.

  Cupping her face, I inch back and gaze at her, realizing she is the only piece of happiness I have left.

  She’s my sliver of heaven.

  “I love you too, Celeste,” I murmur hoarsely.

  A smile spreads across her wet lips and my wish comes true.

  Another one to add to the count.

  -Thirteen-

  Cobra

  Age: 16

  The good thing about your parents not paying any attention to you is that you can raise all kinds of hell. You can cut out of school, drink your dad’s beer and take your mother’s car without them ever knowing.

  Not in that order of course. I don’t drink and drive.

  I might not give a fuck what happens to me, but I’m not looking to add anymore guilt to the load my shoulders already carry. No fucking thank you.

  I park my mother’s car on the corner of Celeste’s block and glance out the window, watching as she runs toward me.

  Damn, she’s a sight.

  A gorgeous face, miles of blonde waves and a smile that steals my damn breath every time she gives it to me. She’s changed over the years, fading from a girl to a woman right before my eyes. Her clothes mold to her curves, showing off her long legs, tiny waist, and boobs that fit in the palm of my hand.

  I tha
nk the gods of puberty every damn day.

  We’re still the kids everyone in the neighborhood talks about. I’m still the twin with a missing sister and she’s still the friend who was spared. We’ll always carry the burden of tragedy, but these days we don’t give a fuck what everyone whispers behind our back. These days we’re two kids who damn the whole ugly world to Hell and break rules whenever we can.

  Today is Celeste’s sixteenth birthday and instead of keeping up with the crowd and having one of those fancy parties she’s breaking all kinds of rules with me. She won’t admit it, but I know the reason she isn’t having a sweet sixteen is because she feels guilty Alexandria isn’t here to have one. Everything she does, every choice she makes, she keeps my sister in mind. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. I sometimes feel like she’s forgotten her own dreams and lives, no, more like needs to make all my sister’s dreams come true.

  I questioned her once and it led to our first major fight. She didn’t talk to me for a week and I vowed never to call her on it again. I did promise myself I’d get her to live a little more for herself and a little less for a ghost.

  I won’t say it out loud, mainly because saying it makes it true, but I don’t think my sister is alive. For some time there have been no leads, and while my parents pray for a miracle, I pray for her to rest in peace.

  I pray that the bastard who took her is tortured and maimed.

  I pray that one day I’m face to face with the fucker.

  That I’m the guy delivering the torture.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she says breathlessly, pulling me away from my twisted thoughts. “I had to wait for my mother to leave for work.”

  “Get over here,” I demand, crooking my finger.

  Slamming the door, she grins at me and leans over the console.

  I tally her smile and reach for her face, slamming my mouth against hers. Her lips part and my tongue dives in for that first taste of heaven. Kissing her is my favorite hobby…well, it was until last week. Until she let me slide my hand down her shorts and gave me another one of her firsts. I’m keeping tally of those too, waiting for the day she gives it all to me. She’s not ready yet and I’m cool with that. We fuck around all the time and touching her where no one else has is enough for me. It’s like practicing for the big game.