“Oh, lay off the poor girl, Caro. You’re embarrassing her.” Raquel swats at his head as she sets the last bowl down in front of her husband and slides into her seat.
The meal looks delicious. Besides the fish stew, she’s prepared a summer salad and these bread and cheese balls Owen called Pão de queijo. And then proceeded to stuff five in his mouth.
Taking my first hesitant bite, the spicy flavors melt onto my tongue. “Oh my God.” I spoon another spoonful into my mouth. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
They all laugh jovially at me.
“My wife’s cooking is second to none.” Carl heaves a spoonful of stew into his mouth. I don’t think Owen has come up for air since she set the food out.
We make small talk as we eat, as Owen is looking forward to going back to school, Carl and Raquel are thinking about traveling. I learned that they have properties in Italy, Greece, Africa, and of course Brazil.
From the outside, their life looks like a fairy tale. But I prefer the view right here from the kitchen table, where I know the flaws and imperfections under the surface. It’s more special this way.
I thought for the zillionth time how badly I’ve misjudged Owen.
After dessert, Raquel insists we sit out on the back deck and watch the fireflies. She even offers me some wine after the men have gone out to set up the cushions on the patio furniture.
“I’m not legal, Mrs. Axel …”
“Oh, none of this Mrs. Axel nonsense. Please call me Raquel. Or Mama.” She winks, looking so much like her charming son. “In my country, we don’t treat young adults like babies. Not like here. Under my roof, you are legal.”
Still not knowing how to respond, I shuffle my feet.
“It must have been tough to grow up without your mother.”
I snap my eyes to hers, shocked that she knows such a personal fact about me.
“Did Owen …?”
“No, sweet girl, no. We motherless recognize it in each other.” She smiles sadly, conspiratorially.
“You lost your mother?”
“When I was nine years old. I always wondered what would be worse; losing her after knowing her so long or never getting to know her. It’s a shit draw any way you get it, though.”
I nod, suddenly overcome with sadness.
“Ay, I don’t say this to make you sad. I just want you to know, you can always talk to me. Especially if that bonehead out there screws up!” She smiles, clearly trying to cheer me up. “We are friends now. In each other’s life. And I have a feeling we will be seeing a lot of each other.”
Glancing out to the porch where Owen is actually laughing in the presence of his father while they sling cushions on the chairs together, I have a feeling she’s right.
Not only am I in too deep now with Owen, but his family is pulling at my heartstrings too.
23
Minka
“Who the fuck knew that when we first got invited to a college party, it would be through Minka. If you told me that a year ago, hell, three months ago, I’d have cracked up,” Kelsey says while examining her nails in the back seat.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, bitch.” I direct Chloe to take a left at the light as we enter campus. Thank you, Google Maps.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just didn’t think in a million years you would have a boyfriend … I didn’t mean that like that either. I mean to say, boys are dicks. Who are only good for one thing. Dicks.”
“You should really just close your mouth now,” Chloe quips at her, pulling slowly through the winding campus drive.
Grover University is the school to get into in Virginia. It is the school period for most Mitchum kids. Presidents, CEOs, celebrities, and athletes have graced the hallowed halls and gone on to pursue and achieve impossible dreams. It’s picturesque, everything you envision when you picture a storybook college campus. The grass is emerald green, dotted with hundred-year-old trees and beautiful floral landscaping. The buildings look more like colonial castles than places that house classrooms.
The Greek life is notorious, Chloe’s dream, not mine and the entire campus sits on a stunning, turquoise lake, complete with an outer two-mile-long ring that students run around. Not only does their theater and dance school feed right into some of the most prestigious dance companies in the world, but their five-year nursing program is unrivaled. Chloe and I have been dreaming about attending together for years. We plan to get together in the next few weeks and fill out our applications simultaneously, hoping it will give us double the luck.
“You both should really suck your drool back in before we hit the bleachers.” Kelsey isn’t planning to go to college, never has. After high school, she is headed to Zimbabwe. Or Tunisia. Or wherever her heart desires and there are animals in need. But it doesn’t mean I don’t hear the jealous tone as she scolds Chloe and me.
I would feel the same way if they were headed into the future, together, without me.
“We love you, badass.” I smack a kiss in her direction and her megawatt smile returns.
Ever since Owen heard his school was my top choice, he’s been nagging at me to come. It only took half a week for me to relent, agreeing to come see his first pre-season game and spend the night. I mostly came because I am obsessed with Grover. Or because it means an adult-free night away with my hot-as-sin boyfriend. Either or.
Chloe pulls up outside the athletic complex, parks and we make our way to the field. My stomach starts to do little somersaults. This is the first time I’m actually seeing Owen play. Sure, I snuck to a couple of his high school games admiring the various members of the team. Or cowering when Chloe and Kelsey catcalled them. But I’ve never been there in an official girlfriend capacity.
I just hope they win. I don’t know what Owen is like after a loss. And I don’t want that to ruin our weekend.
Climbing the bleachers, I see that we are on the early side and we pick a great spot right smack dab in the middle.
“Mmm, I can’t wait to see Miles in those tight baseball pants, it’s been too long.” Chloe is practically licking her chops. She is champing at the bit to get him alone at the party tonight.
I’m champing at the bit to get Owen alone. Finally out of Mitchum, on our own, in his college dorm room. Just thinking about it makes me tingle in the places only he knows how to ignite.
“Look at Minka’s face. She is definitely thinking about someone else in those tight pants.” Kelsey winks at me and I feel a wicked burn start to flood my cheeks.
Ever since I confessed that we had sex at the beach, they were all over me for details. But I’m not like them, I can’t do that thing where I describe my sex life in all its glorious and dirty detail. At least not yet. I don’t know if I ever will. Or if I ever want to. What happens between Owen and me in those intimate moments are sacrosanct. I don’t want to tell anyone about it for fear of tarnishing it.
“Shut up.” I swat at her and fan my face as the first of the Grover players run out onto the field. For the next fifteen minutes, we watch them warm up, stretching this muscle or that, practicing throwing and catching with one another. I don’t see Owen anywhere, but then I remember he’ll be in the bullpen, warming up his throwing arm with the pitching coach.
The bleachers begin to fill with the sounds of flip-flops echoing on the metallic benches. About ten minutes before the game, I see Raquel and Carter take a seat with the rest of the parents in the section to the right of us. I don’t know if I should go down and say hello.
I watch as Raquel swivels her head, searching the crowd and then locks eyes with me. She waves emphatically, giving me a thumbs-up. I wave back, trying to mimic that I’ll talk to her after the game.
“Who is that?” Chloe nods in Raquel’s direction.
“Owen’s mom.” I shrug, feeling a burst of happiness inside. Yeah, I’m cool with my boyfriend’s mom. This really isn’t my life.
“Are you kidding me? She looks like an exotic princess.” Th
ey both keep staring at her, because honestly, it’s hard not to.
“Well, supermodel, but yes, she’s insanely gorgeous.”
My attention moves to the field when the announcer begins rattling off the lineup and the players run out of their respective dugouts to stand on the base lines for the National Anthem. Of course, Owen, the pitcher, is last. When he runs out, I feel my mouth go dry.
He looks drop-dead gorgeous on a bad day. In uniform? I suddenly needed to go to the restroom and fan myself somewhere else.
He finds me in the stands, flashing that devilish smile of his and taking off his hat so that his golden brown locks shimmer in the midday sun. Even though my hand is over my heart for “The Star-Spangled Banner,” I can’t keep my eyes off him. My boyfriend.
It only gets worse when he takes the mound and I can see the muscled globes of his ass in those tight white baseball pants. Chloe’s right.
Someone starts a “Let's go Tigers!” chant as Owen waves off the first pitches his catcher suggests. It dies down when he becomes stock still, winding up and hurling the ball in the direction of home plate.
“Strike!” The batter didn’t even have time to swing before the thud of the ball against the leather glove rings out into the stadium.
Owen shuts them down with a 1-2-3 outing and the team heads back into the dugout to suit up for batting.
Owen is deeper into the lineup, I learn from someone behind us, while Miles bats cleanup. That means he is fourth in line, the position reserved for the best hitter on the team.
As he steps to the plate, Chloe whistles loudly through her fingers. “Hit a homer number twenty-two!”
Kelsey and I stare at her, shaking our heads at her enthusiasm.
“What? He’ll learn to love me.” She smiles.
Miles swings at the first pitch, getting a bit of it but sending it soaring up behind him into foul territory. He shakes his head, an intense, almost scary look on his face. Owen has told me about how bad his moods have been lately and I’m definitely seeing it firsthand here.
The other team’s pitcher decides on a knuckleball, even I know what that looks like, but he chose wrong. Miles swings, hitting the ball squarely in the middle, sending it flying high past the infield and out over the scoreboard on the back wall for a home run. He drives in his two teammates on base and rounds slowly for home with a scowl on his face. So much for being happy-go-lucky Farris.
The game continues on at that pace for the next five or so innings. Owen continues to dominate, only letting a handful of hits but no runs slip past him. Miles racks his home run count up to four, nearing his single game record of six. Kelsey makes not one, but two trips to the concession stand, once for hotdogs and the next for ice cream. My best friend, the queen of food, who gains absolutely no weight and never works out. I hate her.
Finally, at the top of the seventh, Owen is taken out. “He’s done a mighty fine job,” I hear someone say behind me and then explain that the coach wants to rest his arm. No sense in over-using him before the season even starts.
The Tigers wrap the rest of the game up tidily, with Miles hitting three more home runs, topping his previous record. He should be smiling to the moon, but instead, just nods at the praise he’s getting from all sides and walks to his truck, driving away quickly. Funny, I didn’t see any of his family approach him.
I feel a set of big strong arms lift me up from behind and I giggle, ecstatic that Owen is finally within arm’s length of me. It’s pathetic, but I do feel complete the instant he touches me. Even if I wasn’t missing anything to begin with.
“Put that pretty girl down, stop embarrassing her, and come give your mother a kiss,” Raquel says from somewhere over my shoulder. My feet are planted back down on the grass and Owen spins me around. I get a glimpse of his perfectly tanned face before he commandeers my mouth in a quick kiss. Then, turning to his mother, he plants a chaste kiss on her cheek.
“Mom, you’re making me look bad!” He pretends to whine. He shakes hands with his father, who tells him he pitched a great game. Owen looks uncomfortable, I think he still doesn’t know what to do with this new-found praise.
I make the round of introductions between my friends and Owen’s parents.
“You’re Chloe Trabucco? I knew I recognized you! I saw you dance The Nutcracker at last year’s Christmas pageant. Honey, you’re spectacular!”
Blushing, Chloe answers, “Oh I did okay…”
“Excuse her, she doesn’t realize that God literally put her on this earth to dance ballet.” I smile in her direction, saving her from herself. Chloe is nothing if not modest. She’s always way too hard on herself when it comes to dance.
“Thanks for coming, you guys, you didn’t have to do that.” Owen interrupts us, clearly trying to get his parents out of here so we can go back to his house.
“Ay, Caro, we get it … Parents are uncool and you have a party to get to. We love you.” His mom gives him a knowing smile, ruffling his hair a bit.
We hug and both of his parents tell me how nice it is to see me. I feel included, and it’s an amazing feeling.
“Ride with me, babe. Chloe can follow, right?”
“Sure, just no road head, love birds. I don’t need to see that.” Kelsey laughs as she skips to the car.
“Ew, you’re so sick.” I feel my face heat.
“Not that I wouldn't be up for it …” Owen trails off when I give him the stink eye.
I climb into his truck and don’t even get my butt firmly planted in the seat when he yanks me toward him and sears my lips with a kiss. He doesn’t let me up and I don’t want to go anywhere. His teeth nip at my lips, his tongue explores every crevice of my mouth.
“You don’t know how fired up I was to know you were watching in the stands …” He smashes his lips down onto mine again, fire scorching through my veins and lighting me up. Owen reaches for the hem of my shirt, something I’m more than ready to let him do as we sit in the front seat of his truck in broad daylight.
And then a horn starts to go off behind us.
Breaking the kiss, fighting for a normal breath, I turn around to see Chloe and Kelsey fake making out in their car.
“Assholes,” I mutter but make Owen put on his seat belt and reverse out of the parking lot.
The drive over to his house, which he shares with Miles and two other baseball players, is thankfully short. It’s located right off campus in a neighborhood that screams college party houses.
We pull into the gravel driveway. Chloe and Kelsey coming to a loud stop beside us. Pop music is blaring out of her BMW, causing the boys in the house to file out onto the raised front porch.
“What is that?” A gruff looking guy in nothing but a towel says, surveying us from above. Tattoos cover his pale, muscled flesh.
“Hey, guys, this is Minka. And her friends.” Kelsey and Chloe don’t even bother saying anything after Owen does. They’re too mesmerized by the mirage of hot men standing on the porch above us.
Miles, still in his tight white baseball pants, jersey nowhere in sight, looks pissed. “Turn that fucking shit down. And who invited the princess to stay here? Hope your beamer doesn’t get too scratched up at the party tonight.” With that, he marches back into the house, slamming the cheap looking front door behind him.
Chloe looks hurt, especially since it’s Miles who yelled at her. “Don’t worry about him, sweetheart. I like that pop shit just fine." The last guy on the porch looks more like a linebacker than a baseball player. He is huge and not just in the height arena. The beard that covers his face would be, if I had to guess, his attempt to hide the fuller portion of his chin and his belly pushes at the front of his shirt as he leans over the railing to take a good look at us.
“Come on up,” Owen encourages us, scooping all three of our bags from Chloe’s trunk with no struggle. My heart may have swooned a bit at that.
We walk into his house and immediately wrinkle our noses.
“I know, I’m sorry abou
t the smell. The house hasn’t really been aired out all summer and four boys live here so …”
I tune Owen out, something I usually never do, to take in the meager house. Not that it’s rundown, but it just looks exactly like he said. Like four guys live here. The walls are white, with no adornments but the odd beer sign here or there and a life-size poster or two of what I’m guessing are their favorite baseball players. Dishes crowd the sink and I don’t want to know if they’re only from this weekend or have been there for months since school ended.
Liquor and beer cases line the counter, evidence of the party about to ensue. A large gray sectional accented by two wood end tables and a matching coffee table are the only furniture in the living room, besides a gigantic TV mounted to the opposite wall. A large dining room table sits in the open space between the kitchen and the living room, stacked high with papers and take-out menus.
“So this is college. Glad I’m not going,” Kelsey says sarcastically.
The big burly linebacker laughs, but it sounds more like a boom.
Owen introduces us to him, Clint, and his other roommate, Parker, who is grumpily eating a bowl of cereal at the dining room table.
“You two can take the fifth bedroom, I have an air mattress you can sleep on.” Owen gestures them down the hall.
“Why do you have a fifth bedroom?” Chloe asks.
“We were supposed to have a new guy coming onto the team, coach asked us to include him. But he never showed up.” Owen shrugs, nudging the door open with his shoulder.
“Good, as long as no one like, died in here,” Kelsey says, no hint of joking in her tone. Chloe and I exchange a look of ridiculousness.
The room is like the rest of the house, white walls, builder’s model normal. At least it smell okay. He sets their bags on the floor.
“Party starts in an hour.”
Chloe makes a mad dash to her stuff. “An hour! You better have outlets in here, Axel. A girl needs to do her hair!”
I giggle, but the sound is cut off when Owen picks me up and carries me out of the room. “Hey! I need to get ready too!”
Over the Fence Box Set Page 17
