Firebloods

by Hays, Casey

  He breaks into an easy smile that discloses the matching dimples in his cheeks which are noticeably visible without his scruff. I squint at him, realizing for the first time all morning that he shaved today. It’s been a few days.

  “Here’s the deal.” His fist unfolds and lies flat against his chest. “I have been so lucky to have you as a friend.”

  “Me too,” I nod, flashing him a quick smile. In the morning light, his black hair is strikingly dark against the light beige walls of the kitchen.

  “Yeah. But…” He shoves both hands deep into his pockets and shrugs. “If you ever decide you want more, I swear, I’ll drop everything. My job, my mansion in the hills, my girlfriend, my wife…” He pauses, and my breath quickens. “Hell, I’ll even leave my German Shepherd named Hank who sleeps on the end of the bed.”

  He looks at me, and an involuntary laugh rolls off my lips.

  “You’d leave your dog for me? And your mansion?”

  “Hey, my wife was in there somewhere too.”

  We laugh together then, and when our laughter fades, we find ourselves staring at each other in numbed silence. He said a lot, enough to make me actually wonder why in the hell I’m fighting this. Because Devan is right; he’s perfect for me.

  Just as that thought whisks through my brain, I have a stupid fear that he read it. On cue, he sidles around the bar and swivels the stool, making me face him, my knees shoved up against his thighs.

  “Say something,” he whispers.

  I shake my head. “What should I say?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I just poured my heart out to you. Don’t you have a response?”

  I fumble with the stone on my ring, but his eyes draw me, steady and full of something—some unnamed promise that I can’t quite see yet. But you know… I trust it. Because I trust Kane. I always have. I just needed to be reminded.

  “It’s now or never,” he whispers. “Now is the best choice.”

  I smile. Connected with him like I am now, all my concerns seem so unfounded. I take a breath and dip a toe into that deep end.

  “I might… leave my dog for you.”

  I hear myself say it—the words definitely fall from my tongue. It takes only half a second for Kane to shoot me those dimples, and my heart jumps into overdrive. And just like that, we cross the line we’ve been toying with since the dance floor Saturday night. I tremble at the realization. Shouldn’t I be having second thoughts or something? Because I’m not.

  “So, Gallagher.” Kane’s palms press lightly on my thighs, his face inches from mine—just to safeguard this new bridge he’s built. “What now? Should we make it official? Maybe go see a movie tonight or something?”

  “A real date, huh?” I bask in that a moment, but then, my smile fades. “Oh no. Not tonight.”

  He pulls back, a glimmer of disappointment flooding his face. I slide my hand over his.

  “No, it’s just… I have this thing with Frankie.”

  “What thing?”

  “Camping.” I shudder even as I say it.

  “Why?” he asks.

  “Research.”

  On a creature that doesn’t exist. I really want to say it.

  “Just the two of you?”

  “If it makes you feel better, I really, really don’t want to go. I’d gladly let you take my place if I could.”

  “Jude, your mom didn’t want you to go out on the porch last night. She won’t like you camping.”

  “Well, isn’t that interesting?” My voice floods with sarcasm. “She’s not here to stop me, is she?”

  “Okay. I don’t want you to go.”

  I feel a defensive hitch in my chest. Maybe I’ve crossed the line, but that doesn’t mean he gets to decide what I do. I spring from the stool.

  “Well, too bad.”

  His fists clench once, relax. I cruise around him to the sink and rattle a few dishes.

  “Where are you planning to camp?”

  “Spooner Lake.”

  I look for the tiny muscle in his jaw which flexes ever so slightly when he’s upset. And… there it is. He tries to maintain his cool, but even these new feelings fluttering around us can’t cloud what I’ve learned about this boy over the years.

  “Don’t you think you should have mentioned this?”

  “I just did,” I quip. “And don’t you lecture me about not being forthcoming.”

  I toss Kane a victorious glare. I don’t like his tone. It’s borderline authoritative, and I don’t care what kind of arrangement my mom has with him and his mother, which we are seriously going to discuss when she gets home. It’s not his place to keep tabs on me.

  I stack a couple of plates in the dishwasher before I glance at him again. He looks kind of deflated, and I hesitate.

  “Look, I’ll take my pistol,” I promise, straightening. “I’ll be fine.”

  “When’s the last time you went to the shooting range?”

  “I know how to use a gun, Kane,” I snap.

  He can’t argue. We took lessons together when we were thirteen, and he knows I’m at the range once a month because usually, he’s with me. I’ve kept my certification up to date. With Mom working nights, I have to.

  Lips pursed, he shakes his head slowly as if he’s giving up. But then…

  “Let me go with you.”

  His hands hover for a moment at his sides while he waits for my reaction. He knows very well I could say no, and he wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. I just stare at him, brow lifted in amusement. I have to admit, I think it’s kind of cute that he wants to come along to protect me, but Frankie will never let him near our precious project.

  He crosses his arms over his chest, his fingers hidden in the bend of his armpits, and levels his emerald gaze at me. I curl my fingers around the handle of the orange juice pitcher. Its coldness bites my flesh.

  “It’s not my call.” I swing open the refrigerator and deposit the juice.

  “I’ll talk to Frankie, then.”

  With a shake of my head, I let the fridge door fall shut. He doesn’t budge, and it’s clear in his face that he’s made up his mind. Even if Frankie says no, he’s coming one way or the other.

  “Fine,” I concede.

  “Fine.”

  The golden flecks in his eyes dance in the light that pours through the window, and I can’t help it—I find them absolutely beautiful. His hair curls a little on the ends against the sides of his face, and just under his left eye, there’s a tiny mole. I’ve never noticed it before.

  Weird.

  Interlude

  The Caterpillar

  That summer, I opened the door wider than I’d ever intended to and invited Kane in.

  My own feelings confused me, so fresh and raw and yet familiar at the same time. Up until that morning, I’d chosen my steps carefully, fearful of treading on Kane’s feelings as much as my own. It was push and pull—a tugging of emotions as I tried to fit the pieces together in my own heart. I’d never worked out a more difficult puzzle. Or a more beautiful one.

  In many ways, Kane was the same boy from my childhood days with intense, green eyes full of adventure and passion. To him, the world was full of vibrant colors that caused even the deepest sorrows to laugh with joy, and I was mesmerized by what he showed me… then and now.

  “Do you see that caterpillar?” he asked me one summer day seven years ago. I followed the point of his finger until I located the furry, little creature bumbling along a stick in my front yard.

  “Yeah.”

  “All those spots on his back are going to be on his wings one day. Even those tiny ones.”

  I leaned in, took a closer look, and saw nothing but big yellow dots lining its lime green back in double rows.

  “What tiny ones?” I asked.

  Kane wrinkled up his nose at me and pried the caterpillar free. With a stubby finger, he pointed again.

  “These.”

  The caterpillar squirmed relentlessly against his dirty palm, a
nd I stepped back a pace, not wanting to get too close. But I saw them. Right along the edge of where his many legs connected was a set of very faint purple spots. Amazed, I studied Kane’s summer-bronzed face.

  “How did you see those?”

  He only shrugged and deposited the furry guy back onto its sturdy branch. “I just notice stuff.”

  Needless to say, things like this left me in awe of Kane… and happy to spend every waking moment with him. Each time he came loping up my walk to ring my bell and ask Mom if I could come out to play, I knew an adventure was afoot. She never had to call me twice. I saw him from my window, and I was downstairs in a heartbeat, ducking under my mother’s propped arm and racing off the steps with Kane on my heels.

  “Be home before dark!”

  I didn’t look back. I just waved a hand high in the air to signal that I’d heard, and the rest of the day was mine. Just Kane and me in a wide, wide ten-year-old’s world.

  I suppose I should have sensed then the potential our relationship had of blooming into something stronger. But I was ten.

  Okay… in hindsight, I did know a few things. I knew Kane was a boy. That in and of itself intrigued me. And when Jonas was with us, I often became a backdrop to their activities. It wasn’t on purpose, mind you. But boys, they’re just wired differently. Sometimes, their minds would race together into some realm that only boys could fathom, and I was inevitably left out, even sitting right next to them. I mean, I liked mud just as much as the next kid, but you could only make so many pies before they all started to look the same. Eventually, I’d be ready for a shower and a nap. But to these boys, mud was a god. When they weren’t throwing it at each other, they were building a fort and praying it wouldn’t rain before the walls dried.

  When we got a bit older, it was dirt bikes. Oh… I had one, and I might add that I was pretty handy with that thing, which impressed Kane to no end. Of course, he was better than both Jonas and me, popping wheelies and spinning into abruptly sliding stops. Those days marked the beginnings of his obsession with motorcycles.

  There was something else I knew too. Something that tipped the scales in a way that, in all honesty, should have prepared me much more soundly for what was to come. See, I knew my connection to Kane was grossly different than my connection to Jonas.

  Let me explain.

  Jonas had been a part of my life virtually since birth, and for that reason, he was very much like a brother. If I wanted to, I could tell him anything at all, and he tucked it inside our own little shared box of knowledge and secrets and never let it out… some things not even to this day. Jonas saw me at my best and my worst, and I him. When we fought, which was rare, the silent anger between us was brief… because we were family. We needed each other like a bird needs to fly.

  Jonas was my first very best friend, my defender, my security, my safe place. It probably doesn’t look like that as much now, not with Devan in the picture. But you’re just going to have to take my word for it. Jonas was my lifeline.

  But Kane…

  He’s a different story.

  The first day of kindergarten was the first day Jonas and I didn’t see each other until morning recess, and that was like losing an arm. His teacher was only two doors over, but when you spend every day all day with someone for the first few years of your life, the separation anxiety is real, and I experienced it in full force.

  Mrs. Flint put our tiny desks into groups of fours, and Kane’s happened to be situated directly across from mine, so close that all year our feet bumped into each other. But on that first day, a paper with a capital A stared up at me from my desk. Lines were provided to practice writing the letter, and a jumble of pictures was scattered across the bottom. Our assignment was to circle every picture that started with an A, and Jonas wasn’t there to help me.

  My wide, frightened eyes must have been as vivid as the flashing beam on a lighthouse because Kane, even at age five, noticed. And he came to my rescue that day.

  With a boldness I’d never seen in any other five year old, Kane took his red color, reached across the span of our desks, and placed a tiny dot on top of every picture I was supposed to circle. Then, he settled back, still clutching the color, and blinked at me with eyes of jade.

  I scanned the pictures. They were easy ones: apple, airplane, ant. I could have figured out the answers myself. But the relieved certainty that I didn’t have to made his kind albeit simplistic gesture the sweetest moment of the day. My nerves, which had been escalating in long waves and threatening to bring tears at any moment, subsided. I picked up my color and finished the work.

  That was the beginning of a long-time friendship. But unlike my relationship with Jonas, a different kind of chemistry existed with Kane, one that excited my blood in a way Jonas never had. Jonas was comfortable, easy, safe. Dependable moments existed with him. Kane, on the other hand, was full of a kind of fire. I was drawn to him. I needed to see what he was doing, know what he felt, feel the slight warmth of his presence, which was quite pronounced even though for the longest time, we never touched. Always, there was a subtle tugging—a push and pull of the magnetic kind. Two opposing forces held a half inch apart until one flipped over and slammed into the other.

  I don’t recall when the tugging turned to flirting, but somewhere along the way, it did. And now, we hang in the balance, expectantly suspended between the casual and the intimate, where I’m mesmerized by Kane, and equally polarized. But I see us plainly—in the slow, aching burn of getting to know one another that has spanned years. Eventually it prompted me to lift up on my tiptoes and plant that silly half kiss on his lips. The kiss that started it all. The door blew wide after years of slowly creaking open bit by bit.

  Funny how a backwards glance at your life reveals so many blatant hints you never saw in the moment. And then, one day, you take a vulnerable step; you cross a wide forbidden line; you’re coaxed straight into your own truth.

  I’ve watched Kane grow up. He is almost a man; I am nearly a woman. This draws up all sorts of complicated heartbeats and a messy mingling of skin on skin. Hope and fear intermingled, I like to think. Because that just sounds beautiful. Kane and I, we no longer hunt for caterpillars or sit elbow to elbow at the coloring table. Our coloring days ended long ago.

  One thing I will say: that boy loved me hard. Once he convinced me to take a long look at us, I knew I needed him like breath in my lungs. And this may come as a surprise, but before that summer, I didn’t know quite as much about Kane O’Reilly as I believed. In fact, it could be argued that I knew virtually nothing. I know that seems impossible. I mean, we had twelve years under our belts.

  In the end, that didn’t matter.

  Eleven

  Mom finally calls around one. She sounds better, less anxious. I still hear a slight caution in her voice. At first, I can’t get a thing out of her, and this infuriates me beyond comprehension. She does have the courtesy to ask me if I’m doing okay on my own. When I throw a sarcastic jab at her, telling her that Kane protected me with every ounce of his life, she has the audacity to suggest he stay with me until she gets back.

  “Mom, do you hear yourself?”

  “What, Jude? Gema said it was fine, and I just think it wouldn’t hurt to have a man in the house. It’s smart.”

  “We never have a man in the house,” I remind her. “Should I let him sleep in my bed with me too?”

  She huffs on the end of the line. “Don’t be dramatic, sweetheart. It’s entirely up to you where he sleeps, but I’d suggest keeping him out of your bed until you’re properly married to him.”

  Incredible.

  “I’ll be fine on my own,” I grumble. “We bought me the Glock for a reason.” I should think before I blurt my next comment. I don’t. “I’m surprised you’re concerned about me at all.”

  My jab stabs us both, but you know, I don’t care. Until she called, I had no idea if she was dead or alive. She should suffer a little. Her quiet breathing is the only sound.

/>   “You have every right to be angry,” she finally says.

  “I think so,” I agree, bitterness lining my response.

  “It was very irresponsible of me to leave for Portland without informing you.”

  I’m silent. For once, she’s saying all the right things.

  “I’m—I’m getting some treatment.” Her voice is hesitant. “At a place called Cedar Hills. It’s a mental health facility here in Portland.”

  “Oh.” And now I just feel bad. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

  “I wasn’t sure I would be staying. Not until preliminary assessment. But I passed.” She sounds excited. “I’m not allowed to make too many calls. They have rules about communicating with the outside. But my doctor is wonderful. She has me on a newly developed medication that seems to be working.”

  I’m silent, absorbing the news. Mom sighs.

  “Jude, I need to apologize.”

  I’ll just say that I so wanted to hold onto my initial anger. She’s making it very hard.

  “I know I haven’t been the kind of mother you’ve needed, and I have no good excuse.”

  I’m a little stunned. This sounds like my old mom. I shift the phone to my other ear. “I’m listening.”

  “I’m truly sorry, Jude. I’m sorry that I’ve missed out on your formative, coming-of-age moments.” She sighs heavily, and I hear the hint of a sniffle in it. “Being so far away from you has made me realize how quickly time is passing. My goodness, you’ll be gone in a year, and I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

  A lump grows in my throat. It’s been a long time since we’ve had one of these talks. I ease back the anger another notch.

  “Now who’s being dramatic?” Tears spring to my eyes. “Mom, you know me. You do.”

  “Regardless, things are going to change when I get home. They have to, for all of our sanity.”

  I don’t know who else Mom might be including in that statement, but I don’t ask. I’m just so happy she says it. I suddenly want nothing more than to put my arms around her.