by Sally Henson
I don’t want to talk about this either, but he needs to know I’m not going once and for all so he’ll drop this. “I never sent in my acceptance papers.”
“That’s weird. They sent a confirmation letter with some payment options.”
My eyebrows knit together as I study him. “There’s something going on with this, because I have done nothing, and they keep sending things as if I have.”
Cam’s phone dings. He taps the screen and the light illuminates his smile as a tuft of dark, damp hair falls onto his forehead. He keeps his hair longer than a buzz cut these days. Even styles it for school.
Cam looks my direction. His eyebrows pull together as he studies me. “What?”
I shake my head. “Who’s it from?”
His mouth opens. He looks back to his screen and clears his throat. “Oh, uh, Tobi.” A smile finds its way back to his lips.
I lean over the chair to look.
“Hold on.” He butts his chair to mine so we can both see as he scrolls through her pictures.
After we have a few laughs and view them all, Cam takes a selfie of us to send. “I wish we were there too,” he says.
“You miss Haylee? Wish you were her cabana boy?”
He shakes his head. “We would be having a blast if we were there.”
“Yeah.” I giggle, thinking about all the competitions we would come up with. I raise my can of lemonade. “Here’s to those left behind.”
He stands and reaches his hand for mine. “Screw that.” He tugs me to follow him inside. “We’re going to have our own fun this week.”
“What are you doing?”
He snatches a pair of socks from his drawer and slides them on. “We’re going out.”
“Four-thirty is going to come early in the morning,” I say. Besides, all of our friends are gone. There’s nothing to do.
Cam slips on his shoes and grabs his wallet. “We’re seventeen, Rey, not seventy. Our friends are in Florida soaking up the sun, having fun. We aren’t going to sit on our asses and whine about being left behind.” He points to his bed. “Grab those pillows.”
My stomach tightens. Cam disappears into the bathroom, and I stare at his bed. I’m not sure going out right now is a good idea. It’s nine o’clock already. I’ll be so tired tomorrow. He’ll be tired.
“Hey,” Cam says in a low voice. He steps in front of me, wearing a grin that says he’s full of bad ideas. “Stop thinking about whatever it is you’re thinking. Loosen up.” His dark, blue jean-colored eyes sparkle. “As your boss this week, this is part of the job. Get the pillows.”
Maybe he’s right. We can work and have fun. I nod. “All right. I’m game.”
I gather the pillows. He tucks a stack of blankets under his arm. “Let’s party.” He raises his hand for a high-five.
I laugh and rush toward him, smacking his hand on my way out the door.
Thirty minutes later, he turns onto an overgrown path that winds up a small hill and down the other side. He rolls down the windows. The headlights land on the rushing water of a river I’d never seen. “You hear that?” he asks.
The sound of the fast-moving water multiplies as we get closer. My chest fills with a hum of a sigh. “Yeah.”
I unlatch my seatbelt and sit on the door frame of the window. It reminds me of the rush of ocean waves, not that I’ve ever heard it in real life. It’s like our own little ocean. Sort of.
Cam does a U-turn and backs toward the water, stopping before he gets too close to the edge. “Cool, huh?”
I lower back into the cab. “Yeah, Cam. This is awesome.”
He steps out and gathers all the stuff from the back seat, tossing it in the bed.
I open the door to get out, but he stops me.
“Here, crawl over the back seat. I’ll set you onto the side of the truck bed so you don’t have to walk through the weeds. There are some sticker bushes.”
“Aw, thanks Cameron,” I say in a sugary sweet voice.
He chuckles and mimics me. “Aw, your welcome, Regan.”
I hop on his back and he easily carries me to the rear, opening the tailgate.
He sits me down and points toward the pile. “Grab that thick blanket, there.”
I lift it, taking one side and giving him the other. We spread it out.
“When did you find this spot?” I ask.
“Dad showed it to me when I was a kid.” He shrugs, and we unravel a foam cushion about the same size of the truck bed.
“What’s it like in the daylight?”
“Not as impressive.” He chuckles. “We used to farm a field on the other side.”
“Well,” I say, taking a seat and fluffing the pillow. “It’s beautiful at night.”
I look up at all the tiny points of light in the dark sky. Star-gazing never gets old. Cam and I have never done anything like this by ourselves.
Cam crawls on top of the covers and stretches out. “Look at this,” he says, tapping an app on his phone.
I slide next to him and watch the screen of his phone. The night sky appears.
He moves the phone around. “See that cluster right there?” he asks, pointing above us.
“Yeah?”
“That’s Perseus. The son of Zeus.” He points at his phone. “See? Right here.”
The screen shows Perseus. “I didn’t know you were into astronomy.”
He shrugs. “Sometimes I look up at the stars, wondering if my biological parents are doing the same thing. Is that weird?”
“It’s not weird.” Cam never talks about his biological parents. Never. I’ve known since junior high he was adopted, but it wasn’t a big deal.
“I go out to Fox Creek by the bank at night in the summertime and look up at the stars—think about my future. Well...I used to anyway.”
We’re quiet for a little while.
“This isn’t much of a party.” He laughs. “But it’s cool being here with you.”
“Did you bring Haylee out here?” I ask.
“Nah. She wouldn’t have appreciated it. The river, the stars…that’s not her thing.” He sighs. “I think she only wanted me for my body.”
I smack his arm. “Cam!”
He laughs and then shows me the screen of his phone. “This app shows everything. Constellations. Stars. Planets.”
We find everything on his app that is visible without a telescope.
“Not quite the ocean-side experience, but it’s better than staying home, right?” He bumps my arm with his.
“Exactly. We’ve got the night sky, rushing water, good friends…what more can we ask for?”
Cam bumps fists with me. “Here! Here!”
31
REGAN
“She’s not going, Sarah. I thought we came to an agreement about this.”
“The only one who agrees with you on this is yourself. I’m taking the final word on this one.”
“She’s never even been to the coast. That’s how far-fetched this idea of marine science is.” Dad pauses. “No. That’s it.”
Mom comes back with a determined voice. “She’s going.”
Waking up to this volley back and forth is blowing my mind. Mom has taken a backseat to everything that’s been going on for so long. It goes back to the time when Lincoln left. I thought that meant she agreed with Dad. But now I’m not sure. Listening to their fighting has me frozen in bed. I can’t believe this is happening.
REGAN
Cam explains how the GPS in the tractor is used for what he calls precision agriculture as I ride with him. “Basically, I use tech to develop the soil, plant, and fertilize each field.”
“I didn’t know tractors were so high tech. Is there lot of chemistry involved?” I ask and try to mask my yawn. We got bored after watching the stars for an hour and drove to Effingham to get some food. All the local places close at nine during the week. By the time I got home, it was almost midnight.
Cam looks up at me, standing in the cab next to his seat. “Don’t start.”
<
br /> “I can’t help it if my body yawns.” I yawn again. Cam telling me not to do it makes me want to do it more.
He hands me his energy drink. “If you can’t hang with the big boys…”
I chuckle and take a drink. “Yuck,” I cough out. My face contorts. “This tastes terrible.”
Cam shrugs. “Maybe your pallet is not mature enough to handle it.” He checks his GPS screen, but I can tell by the way his lip twitches he’s holding back a grin.
“Ha. I’m more mature than you.” I know he’s teasing, trying to distract me from being upset about my parents fighting.
He adjusts his position in his seat. “If you’re so mature, why are you putting off Eckerd’s summer program?”
My stomach sinks. I thought he was teasing, trying to distract me. Let’s see how he likes it. “Why won’t you check out your own options for a computer science degree?”
“I told you,” he says, flicking his gaze to me for a second. “My parents need me here. Your parents don’t need you to take over the family business.”
“What’s the difference?” I ask. “My dad has done a one-eighty on marine science and college. Period.”
He slows for the turn ahead. “It’s not the same thing.”
“That’s not how I see it. You can still get your degree, Cam. Take online courses. Go part time. I bet there’s a program out there that will work.” I hate to see him give up on it. It’s not like Tobi giving up the idea to be a medical researcher. She loves being a cowgirl. But Cam already works on computers and understands how technology, like GPS units for tractors, work.
He turns the wheel, elbowing my leg in the process. “Sorry. Slide beside the seat for a minute.”
I do as he says while he turns.
“Okay,” he says, straightening the tractor and planter and following the line on the GPS. “You’re good now.”
“Why not do some research, at least?” I ask. He nags me about Eckerd, so I’ll nag him about college.
Cam doesn’t shoot back a quick-witted remark or jab about Eckard or anything. He’s silent. Eyes focused ahead, checking his gauges. Jaw clenched tight.
I must have pushed him too far because he’s never clammed up like this before. Not with me. My stomach tightens. This tractor has a radio with Bluetooth connection but nothing playing out of the speakers. It’s just the roar of the engine.
Conflict isn’t something I do well lately. I’d do just about anything to avoid it, but Cam, more than anyone, has the ability to bring it out of me. We near the end of the field where his truck is parked. “I’ll get out here.”
He ignores me, slowing only to turn, not stop.
“Cam, I said I’d get out.”
“I heard you. Scoot back again.” He nudges my side with his elbow to move me in the direction he wants.
I survey his expression as he turns to check the planter behind us. His tight lips could be from concentrating on what he’s doing, but his eyes look like a frown. Not even the Columbia blue of his Stelmo basketball T-shirt could make them brighten right now.
He straightens the wheel, putting the tractor on the right path, and punches a few buttons. He blows out a long breath. “Mom has Alzheimer’s. That’s why Dad needs me to take over the farm.”
I stand there, mouth partly open, blinking, staring back at Cam. He searches my face and I can see the anguish in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” His parents are older than mine, but I didn’t think she was that old. Does it have to do with being old? “I’m not sure what Alzheimer’s is.”
He glances up at me. “The neurons in the brain stop working and die. It causes the connections to break—stop working.”
“What does that mean? She forgets things sometimes?” I ask. Maybe I shouldn’t ask a bunch of questions, but he’s talking about it. This is the first time he’s ever mentioned it. Did he just find out?
He runs both hands through his hair, causing pieces to stick up on top. He lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s how it starts, how it shows itself. But it’s more than that. Memories fade until they’re all gone, short term memory leaves…she already forgot how to cook.” He looks up at me and the moisture in his eyes squeezes my heart. “Her brain is slowly dying.”
“Oh, Cam.” I reach out for him, squat down the best I can in the small space, and hug his shoulders. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
He pats my arm. “Yeah, well. The shitty thing is there’s nothing we can do about it. There’s no cure.”
I pull away and straighten. “Nothing? No treatment or anything?”
He shakes his head. “Some drugs that might slow the progression. But she has the early onset kind. That’s why Dad spends so much time with her. She gets nervous when he’s not around. She doesn’t even like to leave the house anymore.”
“When did you find out?” I ask.
The tractor slows. I automatically slide toward the back of the cab while Cam turns. When the tractor is back in line, he says, “Two Januarys ago.”
“Cam,” I say with a gasp. “Why didn’t you say anything? I’m such a jerk for getting on your case.” My stomach knots, thinking about what his family is going through. And I didn’t make things any easier on him.
He takes my hand and tugs me down to eye level. “You’re not a jerk. I just needed time to let reality soak in.” He lets go of my hand and checks his gauges. “I haven’t told anyone but Haylee. And she’s sworn to secrecy because Mom doesn’t want people to know. I guess I was hoping the doctors were wrong.”
“I haven’t seen your mom since last summer. She seemed fine.” She was warm and friendly like she had always been since I’d known her.
“She’s good at hiding it. I don’t know how she does it, but she puts on an act like she knows people, but I know she doesn’t remember who they are. It’s weird.”
I rest my elbow on his knee and look out the window. The sun peeks through the clouds ahead of us and trails along the rows of planted corn. “I really didn’t know anything about Alzheimer’s. I just…I don’t know what to say.” No wonder he accused me of being a childish dreamer when it came to my friends’ futures. “I see why your parents want you to stay.”
“Just keep it to yourself. Okay? Mom still doesn’t like people to know, but it won’t be a secret for long. She’s only going to get worse.”
I nod. I want to say more, but I can’t come up with anything that would be encouraging or comforting. So I tell him, “I won’t say anything. Promise. If you ever want to talk about it…”
“Thanks,” he answers before I can say much more. He changes the subject. “Let’s go to a concert tonight.”
I’m still reeling from knowing he’s been keeping this a secret for so long and have a hard time just dropping it. Lane does that sort of thing too. How do guys do that?
“I’m supposed to be saving my money, not spending it.” I raise my eyebrows and hover over him. “Remember?”
He chuckles. “Are you trying to be intimidating? Because you look like a furry little kitten.”
I shake my head. I don’t know where we’re going to go to a last-minute concert. It’s not like we live in a vibrant metropolis. I’ll go along with whatever he wants because he’s trusted me with something; he hasn’t told anyone else.
We ride in the tractor cab, listening to music and talking about the concert, about everything but his mom, Haylee, college, and Lane. Cam and I have always butted heads. He’s crazy and annoying and fun, but I’m starting to figure out he hides his soft side.
32
LANE
Sweat drips down my back from the lights and excitement of playing. I glance at Ross as I start the last chorus of the song.
The crowd is so alive tonight, and it gives me a buzz of energy that I can’t explain. Girls line up near the stage three or four deep, just to sing with us. Ted’s back home is like a morgue compared to this place.
I play the last chord and raise my arm high above my head, singing the last w
ords of the song before our twenty-minute break. “The way you do.”
The crowd cheers.
I take a few steps away from the microphone, feeling more alive than ever.
“Thank you,” Ross says to the crowd.
Joe, Jace, and Luke head offstage.
“The Music Mutts will return. Sunday Sunday will be playing for you during our break.” He motions to the other group walking on stage.
The crowd claps, but the noise level dies down. I follow Ross and see the blond hair of Braden West greeting our group offstage.
I take my turn shaking his hand before we get a drink and catch our breath for a few.
“Lane,” Mr. West says with his gravelly voice. “You’re killing it tonight. The more I hear your voice, the more I like it.”
The guy can’t be more than thirty. The way Ross and his dad talked about him, I thought he’d be in his forties or fifties. Especially with all the people he’s worked with. He grips my hand tighter before he lets loose. I’m in good shape. Even put on some density to define my muscles, but this guy… I wouldn’t want to mess with him.
“Thanks, Mr. West. That means a lot.”
He nods, giving me a wider grin as he pats me on the back. “Keep it up.”
Braden West is a total professional.
“Oh, I almost forgot. There’s a guy here that says he’s your brother-in-law.” He points back toward a room off the narrow hallway. “I let him wait in the Green room.”
My eyebrows knit together. “Okay?” I don’t have a brother-in-law.
The band all disappears into the green room. The room isn’t green at all. It’s painted a light cream with pictures of music sensations lining the wall. The sole purpose is to provide a place for the performers to relax, along with and food, towels, and drinks. Whoever the guy is, he’s going to have to wait for me to get a drink and towel off the sweat.
I walk into the room and head straight for the iced water bottles. When I glance around the room, I see Lincoln Stone grinning at me. I chuckle, lifting a bottle and taking off the lid. “Brother-in-law?” I ask before guzzling half of the bottle.
