As she grabbed her admittedly impressive rack, I sat up again, and then so did Sydney, and we exchanged a wordless look. “You could always ask him,” I said sympathetically. “Show him you’re all grown up?”
Angéla huffed a laugh. “Riiiight. Look, I’m all for women’s lib, but could you imagine how that would go over? Even if my brother would be chill about it—which he wouldn’t—I’m telling you, Chase isn’t interested. Despite Ágoston’s total cluelessness, I’m almost certain Chase knows how I feel, how I’ve always felt, and he’s never once made a move. Or even acted like he wanted to. Hell, he’s probably over at his party right now with his tongue down some girl’s throat.” Her pretty face twisted in a snarl before it dropped, leaving behind an expression of complete heartbreak. “Actually, he’s probably doing a lot more than kissing.”
Having already watched this beautiful girl cry once tonight, I was in no hurry to repeat the performance, especially when they weren’t happy tears. Grabbing the bowl of Doritos from the table, I quickly handed it over, and Angéla accepted it with a watery, grateful smile.
This was why she hadn’t wanted to go to the party. I rubbed her back, imagining how many times she’d had to watch the guy she was in love with hook up with someone else. It made me want to grab that invisible bubble wrap Chase supposedly wrapped her in, beat him to within an inch of his life with it, and then wrap her up myself so she never had to feel that kind of heartbreak again.
Staring into a giant bowl of nacho cheese, Angéla took a breath. “I need to move on. I can’t keep hoping for a future that’s never gonna happen. It’s beyond time I got over him, and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”
Lifting her head, she looked around the room, taking in the orange party hats and homemade sign on the wall. “If leukemia taught me anything, it’s that tomorrow’s not guaranteed. I can’t live scared about what could happen…or worse, put my life on hold. Not when today can slip away so quickly.”
She popped a chip into her mouth, like she hadn’t just challenged my entire outlook on life in thirty seconds, then grabbed the remote for the television. As the colorful box art on Netflix scrolled by, I laid back on the pallet, my mind in a tailspin.
Chapter Nineteen
Stone
Standing outside the back door of my house, I toed off my shoes. I didn’t know if the girls were asleep or not. I hoped they weren’t, because I wanted to talk to Lily, but if they were, I didn’t want to wake them. I grabbed my Nikes and carefully slid open the door—completely forgetting about the warning from the alarm system whenever a door opened.
Beep beep beep.
Well, so much for that plan.
Shaking my head with a soft laugh, I shut the door behind me and continued padding through the kitchen. The scent of vanilla hung heavy in the air. My stomach rumbled, and I followed my nose to the living room, hoping whatever it was they’d baked hadn’t been completely devoured. The sound of whispered giggles made me smile.
“Y’all better have saved me some,” I called out, turning the corner with a playful smile…and then abruptly did a double take.
Our living room looked like a twelve-year-old’s birthday party had exploded on it. Balloons were taped to the walls, random feathers dotted the floor, and the coffee table and sofas had been pushed back to make room for a pool of blankets and pillows housing an entire chip section of the grocery store, along with three girls who looked like rejects from The Mask. All of whom were frozen in place…and staring at me like I was Ghostface from Scream.
“What are you doing here?” Angéla asked, at the same time I said, “What in the hell?”
I scanned the room again, this time spying a handwritten sign posted on the wall. I read the words, and my head snapped back to find Lily already watching me.
“Um, yeah, about that.” Sitting up, she shoved a section of red hair behind her ear. A nervous smile twitched her lips. “We sort of celebrated a little early.”
The soft look in her eyes was apologetic, like she legit thought I’d be mad that she threw my sister a party, when all I could think was how grateful I was. And how incredible this girl truly was.
My chest expanded as I turned to Angéla. I wasn’t sure if it was the mask on her face, the atmosphere of the room, or the happiness in her eyes, but she looked younger than usual. Almost like I could see the kid she’d been before life got so totally screwed up.
“Does this mean I can give you my gift early, too?” I asked, and she nodded eagerly. Her beautiful smile cracked the dried green goop on her face, and I choked back a laugh. “Wait right here. I’ll be back.”
I hustled down the hall to my bedroom, dropped my shoes at the door, and snatched the gift bag from the bottom of my closet. I sucked at wrapping, and this was better anyway. Quicker to get to the good stuff. I hurried back, my palms growing sweaty as I wondered how Angéla would react to what I’d gotten her, but I refused to second-guess myself now. Lily had promised she’d like this. I trusted her judgment.
When I returned to the living room, Angéla’s eyes immediately landed on the bright yellow gift bag in my hand and widened in surprise.
“Yeah, I decided to go a different route this year,” I said, sneaking a glance at Lily. She gave me a small nod of encouragement, and I handed the present to my sister. “I thought we could reinstate Twin-time. You know, if you wanted to.”
Angéla’s eyes instantly swam with tears, and as her hands clutched the bag, pure panic rose in my chest.
“We don’t have to,” I rushed to say, again seeking out Lily for confirmation. She wasn’t supposed to cry, dammit! “I just thought—”
“Shhh!” Angéla threw up a hand, effectively shutting me up, and dropped to the ground.
She didn’t say anything after that—she was too busy plucking tissue paper out of the bag. When she got to the tall stack of books hidden beneath it, she squealed so loud I was afraid she’d woken our parents.
“We, uh, tried to get a mix of everything,” I explained, wrapping a hand around the back of my neck. No way was I taking all the credit. None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for a certain redhead. “Lily came with me to the bookstore. She knows a hell of a lot more about this stuff than I do.”
Angéla held up a book, and my dance partner chimed in. “That’s one of my favorites. It’s a romance where a girl from the sixteenth century time-travels to modern-day Beverly Hills and discovers the joys of flushing toilets and an American high school while falling for a hot surfer.” Lily exchanged a grin with Sydney and said, “We’re both Team Austin.”
Grinning, Angéla clutched the book to her chest, then dug some more. Each new discovery got a smile and a reverent stroke of the cover. Paranormal, fantasy, sci-fi, contemporary, it didn’t matter. When she got to the nonfiction one I’d picked out, written by the screenwriter of The Princess Bride, her eyes tripled in size and she proceeded to dive right in, sitting in a pool of purple and white tissue paper.
Lily clasped her hands under her chin, joy radiating from her eyes. The smile she sent me could only be described as ethereal. I swallowed hard, feeling grateful and lucky and confused—and everything in between. Overwhelmed, I turned back to my sister.
“I love them!” Angéla declared, hugging the final book to her chest before pushing to her feet. She rushed toward me, and I had half a second to open my arms before she threw herself into them, smearing bits of cracked green crap from her face all over my shirt. I tightened my hold around her, not giving a damn.
“You promise?” I asked, low and against her ear. “If you don’t, or there’s something else you’d prefer, we’ll go tomorrow and return them. It’s not a problem.”
She punched me in the stomach, shutting me up again, and squeezed me tighter. “I couldn’t love them more,” she vowed, and a boulder-sized weight lifted from my shoulders.
Over my sister’s head, I caught Lily’s eyes and mouthed, Thank you.
Her lips parted. Somehow, next to
the bright green mask, they looked pinker than usual, softer, and she shook her head, downplaying her part in all this. It was something I’d learned quickly about her. Lily didn’t do things for accolades or attention. She wasn’t Cameron. Lily was the type of girl who’d throw my sister a party and help me buy her a thoughtful gift, then act like it was just another day of the week. Maybe for her it was. Her heart was just that big.
A rush of warmth flooded my chest, followed by a nudge of guilt prodding my skull. This girl…this girl contradicted everything I thought I knew about relationships. There was no drama with Lily. No gameplay. She was sweet and real, and she challenged me more than the most infuriating sports reporter on a slow news day—yet somehow, I only wanted more.
Angéla stepped back, and I forcibly dragged my gaze to my smiling sister.
Reeling like I’d just been blindsided by a three-hundred-pound lineman.
“You’re the best brother in the world. You realize that, right?”
Thoughts scattered, brain scrambling, I scratched a phantom itch on my arm, my ears growing hot. “Nah, you’re just easy to spoil.” Reaching out, I rubbed her head, needing to do something to release the sudden rush of energy, and she knocked my hand away with a groan. But her smile remained, and the look that said I was her hero was back in her eyes. Focusing on that, my rapid pulse calmed. In a quiet voice, I told her, “Love you, Angel.”
“I love you, too.”
Shifting on my feet again, I surveyed the room. Three different stares were trained on me. One was filled with sisterly affection. Another held curiosity and amusement, with just enough intensity to make me feel like a bug trapped under a microscope. The last one had me wanting to run from the room, even as my fingers twitched to touch.
Lily’s eyes swam with open adoration and naked fear. It was a toss-up which one affected me more.
I rocked back on my heels, the need to escape winning out. “Sorry for invading girls’ night,” I said, taking a step closer to the hall. I opened my mouth to say good night, then spied the tray of cookies on the makeshift bed. My stomach growled. Loudly.
High-stepping it over the pile of pillows, I bent to grab a few cookies for my room, and my eyes locked with Lily’s again. Subtle rays of white were shot through the crystal blue, like thin bolts of electricity. I hadn’t noticed that before.
For a second, I hovered there, staring into the pair of eyes I’d spent way too much time thinking about lately. Without her glasses on, they seemed bigger, bluer. And so damn honest.
A delicate throat cleared behind me, and my head snapped up. Lily blushed, and I proceeded to grab a handful of cookies from the tray, hoisting them in the air like they were a goddamn treasure.
My sister snorted, and when I shot her a pointed look, she grinned back, looking annoyingly pleased. It was definitely time to call it a night.
Backtracking to the hall, I snagged one of the pizza boxes from the table and announced, “Night, everyone.”
“Night, Captain,” Angéla replied in a singsong voice, a soft giggle trailing her words.
Clenching my jaw, I fled to my room.
…
A creak sounded outside my door. My phone said it was a quarter past three, which meant I’d been locked in my room for two and a half hours, beating my head against the pillow. A hundred and fifty minutes later and I still didn’t have an answer.
Since when did Lily Bailey have me tied up in knots?
This was my awkward dance partner. A girl who got hot studying for the ACTs. Why was I acting like an insecure virgin with a crush? This was supposed to be my year off from girls. I was going to focus on football, get my ticket out of here, and help my parents with the studio. The last thing I needed was to get all twisted up in relationship drama again, but that’s exactly what I’d get if I gave in to this need to make her mine. Because while Lily might be theatrics-free, the shoebox filled with money in my closet screamed Greek tragedy.
Another sound came, this time a slight shuffle on the carpet in the hall, and I sat up. That one I hadn’t imagined. Someone was out there, and while it could’ve been Dad or Angéla or even Sydney, I knew who I wanted it to be. Even if it did complicate things.
I pulled open my door and stuck my head out. No one was there.
Disappointed, I glanced down the hall. Yellow light glowed from beneath the closed bathroom door. With my hand clenched around the doorknob, I contemplated going back to bed. It was late, and I had a long day tomorrow. But I was up, and my brilliant plan to snag food hadn’t included anything to wash it down.
That was the story I was going with, anyway.
As I padded down the hall, I listened for whispers or giggles, a sign the girls were still awake, other than the bathroom light. All I heard was silence. When I made it to the living room, I could make out two bundles curled on the floor but couldn’t tell who was missing.
I lingered for a second, then continued into the kitchen with soft steps. Grabbing a water from the refrigerator, I removed the cap and took a long pull while I stood there to quench my thirst. And to waste time.
Yup, I was an idiot.
Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, my disgusted gaze landed on my parents’ darkened office. Since I was already an idiot, I might as well be a useful one.
On quiet feet, I slipped in, closed the door, then switched on a lamp. Dim amber light revealed a cabinet, short bookshelf, and two full-size desks crammed into the tiny space. One held a large calendar, marked with Dad’s work schedule, my games, and Angéla’s upcoming dance competition, as well as a crystal 2015 Officer of the Year trophy in the corner. The other was meticulously organized. A magazine holder corralled the latest copies of American Dancer, a variety of rose-gold bins held accessories, and to the right of the laptop, a file sorter displayed colored folders.
Inside the one labeled “Unpaid Bills,” I found what I needed.
Due to consistently rising maintenance costs, it has become necessary to increase your rent.
I grit my teeth, doubting costs had risen much, and found the new amount typed in black ink a few lines down. Beside it, written in red, was a lower number, along with the difference between them.
Five hundred dollars. That was how much they’d raised the monthly rent. Coming out of the slow summer season, and on the tail-end of Dad’s hospital bills from the accident, that was a small fortune my family didn’t have.
Anger consumed me. It was tempting to crumple the paper in my fist or take it to my parents, demanding they stop shutting me out. That they let me help. But Dad would just say he had it handled, and Ma would tell me not to worry. That was like asking the Pope not to pray.
I closed my eyes as a feeling of powerlessness washed over me. My parents had put their lives on hold when Angéla was sick, and they’d scrimped and sacrificed to send me to the best football camps every summer. After everything they’d done, I needed to do my part and help fix this for them.
With a frustrated sigh, I found when the rent was due—the fifteenth—and returned the notice to the file before stalking out of the room.
Thanks to Mr. Bailey, I had enough to cover almost two and a half months of the increased rent. It was just a patch, but it’d be enough to get us over the hurdle come November when our savings ran out—especially if Lily stuck with the lessons and a few more students enrolled. Just a handful should be enough to at least keep us afloat. But I still had no explanation for how I’d scored the cash.
The other problem was Lily. The closer we got, the more it felt like her dad’s money was a bribe, or at least a dirty secret. I’d shaken the man’s hand and promised not to tell his daughter about our deal, so coming clean wasn’t an option. Neither was giving it back.
Lost in my head, trying to decide the right course, I didn’t see the figure in the hallway until I was almost on top of her.
Lily was dancing outside my bedroom, her weight shifting from foot to foot as she peeked inside my open door and then backed away. Even
as the guilt ate another hole in my chest, I couldn’t fight a smile. Seeing her eased the tension threatening to strangle me. It was selfish, but I needed more of that calm.
I crept closer and a shot of citrus hit my nose. Leaning in close, I whispered, “Boo.”
“Oh, shit!”
Lily jumped and spun around, her hand slapping the wall outside my room. I clamped my lips shut to keep from laughing, not wanting to wake anyone up, and her hand flew to her heaving chest. Amused, I folded my arms and leaned a shoulder against my doorjamb.
I’d never heard her curse before. How in the hell was that adorable?
Lily blew out a breath. “You scared me.”
I wanted to point out she was skulking outside my room, but I didn’t. Smiling, I took in her fresh face, her skin pink and glowing—presumably a byproduct of the atrocious green mask—and noticed the blue of her eyes seemed deeper than usual. She still wasn’t wearing her glasses, and I zeroed in on the bolts of white I’d recently discovered.
Playing nervously with her fingers, she glanced at the floor. “I, uh, thought you might’ve gone back to Chase’s.”
Uncertainty, laced with what sounded like relief, underscored her tone, and my eyebrows drew together. On impulse, I slid a section of reddish-gold hair behind her ear. “No, sweetheart, I’m still here.”
An inner voice mocked me. Way to go, Captain Obvious.
I swear, I was normally better at this.
Girls had always come easily to me. When I wanted to turn on the charm, it was usually second nature. With this girl, though, I could never find my footing.
Lily slowly raised her eyes back to mine, and as my hand trailed down her soft cheek, the natural pinkish hue turned brighter. Swallowing hard, I stepped back.
Eyes on Me Page 17
