I unfold it and panic pierces my heart as I read it. I swallow but there’s no saliva in my mouth suddenly. “Dare?”
“Are you unsure?” Abbott looks over my shoulder to read the paper himself. “Yep. Dare. Okay… I dare you to—”
“I should get to pick since I just went,” Casey interrupts forcefully and turns to me. “I dare you to… pick a guy and go into the closet for one minute.”
“What? Pick someone? Me? No,” I stammer out. I can’t pick. If I pick then it’s my choice. I’m showing everyone who I like. I won’t pick. I’ll die before I pick.
“It can be a girl if you want,” Casey shrugs. “So… pick. Unless you are really a toddler like Logan said, then you can go upstairs where the adults can babysit you.”
More people laugh at that than I would like. I feel humiliated and panicked and angry. I hate this girl so much suddenly. I hope she chokes on that tin of caramel popcorn she’s holding. Everyone is watching me. Aspen gives me a nudge. “Make a pick, Terra. You know you want to.”
“Leave her alone. Terra, go upstairs,” Logan says and he looks deadly serious. Like Dad when he’s barking orders at Tom Brady from his recliner during a Pats game.
“Bite me, Logan,” I bark and start walking towards Jake. I stop right in front of him and poke him in the chest. Hard. “You. Let’s go.”
The room erupts with so many whistles and oohs and ahs that Abbott actually shushes them. I walk toward the closet and pray with every fiber of my being that he is following. I’m shaking on the inside even though I’m not on the outside. It makes no sense but it’s like my blood and guts are in an earthquake right now that no one else can feel or see. I would probably puke if I’d eaten any of the cookies, candy, and chips on the long table next to the Christmas tree. Luckily I didn’t. I fling open the door and only then do I turn around and see… Jake is following me.
Oh my God this is happening.
I step into the darkness of the closet before anyone can see my face explode in heat or my arms and legs shake with nerves as that earthquake inside me starts to breach its confines. Jake hesitates for the briefest second on the threshold but then, he steps inside. Casey walks up and shuts the door saying firmly. “Sixty seconds starts now. Have fun kids.”
And now darkness. And Jake. And me.
“Terra,” Jake whispers, which is the only reason I know he’s close. I can hear him crystal clear. “I’m too old to be in here with you.”
“No you’re not.”
“You’re a freshman and I’m… well I should be a junior.”
Jake was held back in seventh grade. He’s also dyslexic so school has always sucked for him and it’s why he dropped out this year. I wish he could see my face right now. I know my expression is one of adoration. Admiration. I think Jake failing a grade is not a big deal. I know he’s thoughtful and kind and funny, and all of that matters more than how you do on stupid standardized tests.
“So what?”
“It matters. I mean, juniors shouldn’t take advantage of freshman.”
“I’m the one who hauled you in here so you aren’t taking advantage,” I remind him. “Are you mad at me?”
I blink out of confusion. My eyes adjust the slightest bit to the inky, tiny room and I can make out a vague outline of his tall, lanky frame. He’s actually less than a foot from me. “No. Of course not. Why would you ask that?”
“Because picking me is going to make your bothers want to kill me,” Jake announces. “Or at the very least, stop hanging out with me. If you aren’t mad at me then why would you do this?”
Because I want you to be my first kiss. My mouth is open but the words don’t come out. “Because I… you’re… because I don’t hate you.”
He doesn’t respond. I can almost hear the time ticking away and nothing is happening. Nothing. Except all those spiders I know must be in here are probably inching closer to us. I take a step forward and my nose bumps into his chest. “Ouch!”
“Are you okay?” Jake asks and I feel his hands hit me in the stomach. “Sorry. Damn. Is there a light in here?’
“No light!” I say in a whisper yell and gently reach forward, palms out, and I hit his chest and slide my hands slowly towards his shoulders. “Just… don’t make this worse.”
“Terra,” his voice has changed. It’s deeper. It’s rougher. He sounds older than sixteen somehow. My belly becomes a butterfly sanctuary. “I can’t… do what Finn did with Casey. Not to you.”
“Oh…” I feel the belly butterflies disintegrate under the burn of humiliation as clearly as if battery acid has been poured over them. My hands that have reached his shoulders suddenly feel cold. I start to pull them away from him. But then his hands are on my hips. Firm and warm, holding me right up against him.
Those butterflies rebuild themselves like a Terminator. “Terra, your brothers are the closest thing to family I have. Your mom treats me like a son. No one else does that. You know that. I’ve never said it, but I know you know. You’re the smartest person I know.”
His grip tightens on my hips. No boy has ever held me like this or at all. I tilt my head up to where his must be hovering above me. “I won’t tell them. If you just kiss me once no one has to know.”
“I’ll know,” he whispers back. “You’ll know.”
“I won’t tell,” I promise. “You want to… don’t you?”
I suddenly feel like Aspen is right. I feel it right down to my soul. Jake likes me. In that way. He does. A countdown starts outside at ten. Everyone must be doing it because it’s loud.
I feel his breath on my cheek and then… he breaks me. “No. I’ll never want to touch you. Like that. Can’t happen.”
I step away, stumbling over the vacuum and slamming into the water tank so hard it makes a gong-like noise.
“Shit, you okay?”
“I hate you,” I hiss as the door swings open.
Casey scans our faces as I squint against the intruding light. “You guys didn’t do anything?”
“Smart choice, Jake,” Logan calls out, happily. Asshole.
“He’s gross,” I say righting myself and pushing past Jake. “It would be like kissing my brother or our family dog.”
I ignore the relief on Logan, Finn and Declan’s faces and the confusion on Aspen’s and head right up the stairs. I’m going to finish the gingerbread men for the Christmas social. Then I’ll make one just for me, one that looks like Jake, and I’ll take it outside and stomp on it with my boots until it’s dust. Then I am going to go home and cry. Forever.
Terra
Eleven years later
“I have to pee.” I turn away from the crowded restaurant and the front door where he’s standing, and make a beeline through the opening between the counter and the bar and push my way through the swinging door into the kitchen. Everyone is so busy that no one pays attention to me. I pass the cooks and the line prep team and march into the break room.
I give a curt wave to the two employees in there before heading straight into the bathroom and locking myself in one of the two stalls. Then I let go of the breath I didn’t know I was holding and cover my face with my hands as it heats up like a log thrown on a bonfire.
I have to pee?
I haven’t seen Jake Maverick in almost three entire years and that’s the first thing that comes out of my mouth? Yeah, that was pure and utter genius. Ugh. I’m a semester away from being a certified trauma and addiction therapist and that’s how I act under pressure? Someone should call my school and have them kick me out.
I knew Jake was coming home today. The whole damn town knew. If they didn’t hear it from his excited best friends, my brothers Finn and Logan, then they saw it on the Ocean Pines News & Notes Blog. Last week they did a lengthy post on how the new Lieutenant for the OP Fire Department was a returning local boy. Jake Maverick was leaving his post as Lieutenant on King’s Rock, Maine’s Fire and Rescue team to return to his hometown, as a hero no less, since he won the Medal of Valor
last year. My Mom has spent all week planning a little party for him tonight so I knew. And yet, when he walked through that door and our eyes connected for the first time in seventy-one months, it wasn’t just the bell above the door that jostled. It was my emotional equilibrium.
The fact is though I do have to pee, I realize as I stand in the bathroom stall, drowning in humiliation. But what else is new? I pull my hands from my face and undo my jeans, turn around and yank one of the seat covers out of the dispenser. As I go about my business I wonder what the hell he’s doing here already. Finn and Logan said he wasn’t getting into town until the evening and it’s only a little after one in the afternoon.
My entire plan has been obliterated. I was going to finish my shift at four, go for a walk on the beach and meditate, then shower, spend stupid amounts of time doing my hair and make-up and put on that cute new sundress I picked up last week for this specific reason. And of course pair it with a shrug I found in the same sage green color that’s in the sundress’ flowers so he doesn’t notice my arm. It’s still kind of misshapen and discolored from my dialysis treatment this morning. Nothing to worry about but ugly as hell to look at.
But he’s here. Now. And he already saw me, makeup-less, in my grubby work jeans and my Hawkins Lobster Shack shirt that I’m certain has some stains on it from the vanilla bean milkshake that sloshed everywhere when the machine started to act up again.
When I’m done actually peeing I flush and head out to the two sinks, washing my hands and staring at my reflection in the mirror. I look tired. I have a gray tinge to the skin under my eyes and I’m pale and not just because I haven’t been to the beach once this summer. I use my damp hands to try and fix my hair. It barely hits my shoulders, but because I work in food service I have to pull it back. So it’s in a short stubby ponytail at the back of my neck and there’s a billion clips holding the sides back. I stupidly bought children’s clips covered in glitter and unicorns. Because clearly I don’t mind looking like a quirky goofball when my lifelong crush lives a seven hour drive away. But now he’s seven seconds away and I look like an idiot.
I resign myself to two facts: I can’t do a damn thing about any of it, and we’re in the middle of a lunch rush so I can’t hide in here any longer. I turn, face the door, take a big breath, and head back to face this disaster head-on.
I step out into the bustling restaurant from the kitchen. Jake is sitting at the counter now. Finn is on the other side of it grinning at him like it’s Christmas and Jake is Santa. I suppose it is exactly like that. Finn, my other brother Logan, and Jake were inseparable until three years ago when Jake took a job at a fire station clear across the state of Maine on the Canadian border.
Finn pulls his phone from his back pocket. “I’m going to tell Logan you’re here.”
“No personal phones while on shift,” Declan announces. He’s in a suit as always. Deck is in charge of our advertising and marketing at Hawkins Lobster Shack, mostly because he refuses to serve customers. But also a little bit because he’s got a degree in it from Harvard. He smiles at Jake. “This time I’ll make an exception. Welcome back, Maverick.”
Declan and Jake grab hands in one of those stupid bro handshake-hugs that are all clapping and slapping. I grab my tray off the counter where I left it as a table waves their hand in my direction, probably for the bill. I step through the opening between the bar and counter and that’s when he touches me. Jake wraps a big, warm hand around my wrist.
I freeze. Well, my forward motion freezes, my insides are actually melting and swirling like chocolate in a double boiler. I’m suddenly thrilled my long-sleeved work shirt shrunk a little in the wash so his fingers are touching my skin and not the fabric. I turn and look at him. Big freaking mistake. He’s better looking than I remembered and I remembered well.
“Not even a hi, Tink?”
My nickname. The one he invented. The one only he uses. My insides are officially nothing but goo. And I hate him for it. “Hi Jake. Welcome back. Bye Jake.”
I tug my wrist free, take my tray, and head over to the table that flagged me. Wow. That was not at all a great beginning. I throw myself into the rest of my shift like I’m up for Waitress of the Year and am currently being evaluated by a panel of judges.
But by two-thirty the lunch rush has evaporated. The gaggle of tourists that have remained a week after labor day are back to the beach or one of the amusement parks, water parks, or other attractions peppering Route One just up the road. The locals are back to work. So now it’s just staff, which is ninety percent family, and Jake. He’s been sitting on that same stool at the counter this entire time and people have shown up to shower him with greetings. First Logan came. Then Dad sauntered in from the docks where he was cleaning the fishing boat after a morning out switching the lobster traps. Some of the locals walked over too before leaving to say welcome back or congratulate him on the new position.
I’ve been cleaning the countertops of all the tables and booths but now that I’ve finished that, I decide I should head back into my office where I can finish up next week’s schedule and sneak out the back door in the break room to avoid Jake a little longer. If he sees me disappear he doesn’t try to stop me this time. I make it into my office, which is the closet-sized room next to the walk-in freezer, and close the door.
I move my textbooks out of the way and then stare at the schedule on my computer screen for fourteen minutes while I think of Jake and nothing else. He looks… incredible. And he called me Tink, which is short for Tinkerbell. He’s started that trend after the first time Logan and Finn had him over to our family house. Jake was fourteen. He’d been working two shifts a week as a dishwasher at the restaurant for almost a month. Logan and Finn loved having him around since most of the staff was way older. We were all shocked when Mom and Dad hired him because he was so young and well… everyone knew about Jake Grady, the skinny kid with the troubled mom and no dad, who bounced in and out of foster care.
Because Logan and Finn liked him so much, they started hanging out with him outside the restaurant and inviting him over to dinner. Mom and Dad never minded an extra mouth at the table. Anyway, the first time he came to the house he saw the picture my mom had on our mantle. It was of Halloween when I was six. She had somehow coaxed me and my brothers into theme costumes. I was Tinkerbell, Logan was the crocodile Tock, Finn Peter Pan, and Declan was Captain Hook. He’s called me Tink on and off since he first laid eyes on that picture. But I never expected him to remember that now. After a solid three-year gap, I wasn’t even sure he’d recognize me.
There’s a single rap at my door. I yell that it’s open, and Nova pops her head in. “Don’t yell at me but Mom said we had to check on you anytime you disappeared for a longish period of time.”
I roll my eyes. “You faint once at work and suddenly everyone is on high alert.”
Nova opens the door farther and steps inside. “Five stitches and blood on the floor in the middle of a dinner rush earns concern, Sis.”
“That hasn’t happened since,” I remind her. Nova isn’t my actual sister. She’s my sister-in-law, married to Declan. But she feels more like a sibling than he does most days. “I was getting used to the dialysis. I’m a pro now.”
Nova frowns. “Nothing yet?”
“You mean donor-wise? Nada,” I reply. “Hey, has anyone said anything about this to Jake?”
Nova shakes her head, her thick wavy chocolate brown ponytail swaying like a horse tail behind her, but then she blinks and her face lights up. “But I bet he would get tested if he knew!”
“No!” I bark and it causes the excitement on her face to disappear. “I don’t want him to know. Not yet. And I am definitely not asking him to get tested.”
“Terra, you should be asking everyone in town to get tested,” Nova lectures and I try not to get pissed off. She, like the rest of my family, just wants me to get a new kidney from anyone I can. I want that too, frankly, but Jake? No. I mean I won’t ask him. He has a habi
t of turning me down for things I really want. “Yeah, eventually maybe someone should tell him but not now. Not today. He just got back. And besides what are the chances he’s a match? Slim.”
Your luck at getting a kidney match is best with direct family. I have three brothers and two parents and sadly only two of them were matches—my dad and Declan. But Dad was disqualified because of age and his type one diabetes. Declan was not deemed an acceptable match because he has had mental health issues in the past. The kidney donor regulations are strict and vary from state-to-state, and Maine is stringent with emotional issues. It’s not just that he has ADD and takes meds for that or that he suffers from depression. He tried to kill himself a week before his eighteenth birthday, and there’s also concern the carbon monoxide from that almost-successful attempt that involved a car and a locked and sealed garage might have damaged his kidneys without anyone knowing. He’s appealing the decision, meeting with psychiatrists, and getting doctors to run more tests on his kidney function, but I’m not holding my breath.
“You never know, Terra.” Nova is the Queen of optimism. “If Selena Gomez can get a kidney from her best friend, you can certainly match with your brother’s best friend. And I bet it’s an extra strong, extra tough, extra handsome kidney. Like Jake himself.”
I laugh at that and Nova joins me. “He looks good though, huh?”
I can’t believe I just said that out loud. I shouldn’t have.
“To be clear, I’m just stating the obvious. I’m happily married but…” Nova’s chuckle dies out and she grins. “He looks hotter than the fires he puts out.”
I laugh again. “Not a lie. And to be clear, I’m also just stating the obvious.”
“Like hell you are,” Nova challenges, and I no longer want to laugh.
“Seriously. I’m with Tom, remember? And I like Tom,” I say pointing to the framed picture on my desk of my boyfriend Tom and I.
“We all like Tom. Tom is swell,” Nova says, her voice as cheery and bright as it always is but somehow it feels false right now. “Is he coming to town this weekend?”
The Fall We Fell: A Small Town Friends-to-Lovers Romance (Ocean Pines Series Book 1) Page 2
