“They will be, baby.” Quinn framed my face with her hands, and her green eyes were serene and certain. “One day, one day soon, all the good-byes will be in our past. And then you’ll be stuck with me forever.”
I leaned my forehead against hers. “I hope that’s a promise.”
“It’s got to be tough.”
I was zoning, so when Gia spoke as she dropped into the chair that Leo had just vacated, I was startled. She settled herself down, stretching her legs out in front of her.
“I’m sorry, what’s tough?” I glanced at her sideways.
“That. Them.” Gia nodded toward Quinn and Leo, who were walking at the edge of the ocean, holding hands and looking like an advertisement for the perfect summer. “Seeing them together. It can’t be easy for you.”
“Why would you say that?” I let my hand trail through the warm sand next to me, drawing designs.
“Oh, come on, Nate. I know how you feel about Quinn.”
That stung a little. I knew Gia and Quinn were friends, and I wasn’t dumb; I realized girls talked to other girls, and there was a fairly high likelihood that they talked about boys. But I’d never really considered that Quinn would share anything with Gia about me. About us.
As if there were an us, which of course there wasn’t. Not beyond the friends us, anyway.
“Did she say something about me and—her? To you?”
Gia hesitated and then shook her head. “Not in so many words.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” One thing I’d learned about Gia early on in our acquaintance: like me, she was honest to a brutal fault. She wouldn’t sugarcoat things when it came to Quinn.
“It means that she didn’t so much share it with me as I asked. Not that it was much of a secret, Nate. Not to anyone who spends any amount of time with the two of you.”
I frowned. “Why did you ask?”
Gia was silent for a minute. “If I tell you, do you promise not to laugh?”
Now I was curious. “Yeah. As much as I can, anyway.” Honesty was a trait I could appreciate in others mostly because it had always been a part of me, too. I’d try not to laugh, but I couldn’t swear it wouldn’t happen.
“Okay, that’s all I can ask of you.” Gia stared straight out into the waves, and the tip of her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. I realized she was nervous about whatever she was about to say. “Last fall, I kind of had . . . a crush on you. And I asked Quinn if there was something between you two. She got uncomfortable, said that there wasn’t anything on her side, but . . . like I said, not so many words, but I got the picture.” Gia finally glanced my way and glared at me. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”
“I said I’d try not to. And I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at the idea of you having a crush on me.”
Now temper flared in her eyes. “Why? You don’t think someone like me could have those kind of feelings?”
“What? No.” I scowled. “I don’t even know what you mean by that. I don’t think someone like you would be interested in a guy like me.”
“Oh, really? You’re crazy then.”
I snorted. “What would make you—you know. I mean, God. Look at me.” I pointed to my legs, covered in the lightest-weight sweatpants my mom could find. No way was I wearing a bathing suit and exposing my legs in public, but I couldn’t handle jeans in the heat. This was the best compromise, but damn, I hated it. Hated that I had to compromise in the first place. Hated that I couldn’t run down the beach like all the other guys who took for granted what they could do. And now Gia was claiming that she was interested in me? Yeah, I found it a little hard to believe.
“Why was I interested in you? God, Nate. First of all, the hotness of you.” She pointed at me. “You must not look in the mirror very often. You’re a hottie, dude.”
I felt my face getting warm, and this time it had nothing to do with the sun. “You’re crazy.”
“I’m not, but if I am, I’m not alone. Didn’t you know how many girls were hung up on you in school?”
“Oh, yeah, the school gimp, the one all the other guys tease and harass. Yeah, I’m a real prize.” Sarcasm dripped from my words.
“Okay, Nate, I get it. You’re talking about one part of you. I’m saying, some people see more than that. Some people see your gorgeous eyes, your hair, the way you’re built . . .” She paused. “And it’s not just your looks, bud. When I got to know you, I liked you even more. You’re a genuinely decent guy, and let me tell you, that’s rare. You’re not a douchebag. So yeah, I got a little moony-eyed over you. But I saw how it was. And I wasn’t going to get between you and Quinn.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to all of this. Gia had become a good friend, someone who I felt comfortable with—not quite the same as Quinn and Leo, but close. Still, I wasn’t interested in her as a girlfriend. There was only one girl in the world for me, and she’d just strolled off down the beach with my other best friend.
“Which brings us back to my main point.” Gia dug her heels into the sand, making twin trenches. “Quinn and Leo. That can’t be easy for you.”
I lifted one shoulder. “It wasn’t before. Now . . . after everything Quinn’s gone through, I’m just glad to see her happy, you know? Or at least as happy as she can be right now. If Leo brings her comfort, or a little peace, I’m fine with that.” I took a deep breath, wincing a little at the twinge of discomfort. “It wasn’t like she’s ever going to see me like that, anyway. It’s always been Leo for Quinn.”
“And it’s always been Quinn for you.” Gia nodded. “I’m sorry, Nate. If you ever need someone to vent to, or a shoulder—I’m here for you.” She grinned and winked at me. “And don’t worry, I’m not going to try to jump your bones. I got over you last year. Now I’m okay with being your friend.”
“Thanks, Gia.” In a rare—for me—gesture of affection, I reached over and laid my hand on her arm. “I’m glad we’re friends. I don’t get to know people easily, but you’re worth the effort.”
“Nate Wellman, that may be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She covered my hand with hers and gave it a little squeeze. “Can I admit without it sounding creepy that if I’d known how awesome your mom is, I might’ve tried harder to get your attention? You seem like you have a very cool family. You’re lucky.”
I nodded. “I guess. But I’m an only child. I always thought maybe sisters or brothers might be cool.”
“I guess the grass is always greener, but siblings can be overrated. Believe me, being the youngest of six has definite drawbacks.” She grimaced, and I remembered that Quinn had mentioned Gia’s parents had been divorced for a long time and still battled over the last kid left at home—that would be Gia.
“You’re not close to your sisters and brother?”
Gia sighed. “Not very. They all fled the family home as soon as they could, and that left me to deal with the parentals. I thought it would get better once my mom and dad finally called it quits, but then they decided I was the monkey in the middle. The only time my mom noticed me was when my dad wanted me, and then she pitched a fit.” She reached down and scooped up a handful of sand. “She’s close to my older sisters. And she likes my brother’s wife.”
“I’m sorry.” Gia was always so bright and brash, I’d never stopped to wonder what she was like, deep down.
“Oh, you know. It is what it is. I’m glad to be going to college and getting away from all of them.”
“All the way at Birch?” I teased. The college Quinn, Gia and I were going to attend was only about ten miles from our town.
“My father lives in New York. My mother’s selling our house in the fall and moving up to Trenton to be closer to my oldest sister and her kids. So yeah, Birch is going to be perfect.”
“I can’t wait.” It was true. I’d fought long and hard to get my parents to agree that I could live on campus. My favorite long-time doctor had had my back on the issue, and I’d had to make a number of concessions: I�
��d be living in a handicap-accessible room, so that I didn’t wear myself out climbing steps. I’d take the campus car service, designed specifically for students like me, to get to classes more than a few steps from my dorm. And I’d keep up with my regular doctors’ appointments, check in with my parents frequently, and avoid tiring myself.
Even so, I was starving for any taste of freedom. Move-in day was circled on my mental calendar, and I was counting the days.
“Yeah, I feel the same. I don’t know how psyched Quinn is, though. Leaving her mom could be rough.” Gia stretched and yawned. “Not to mention Leo being down at Carolina. We’re going to have to pay attention to her, you know? Make sure she doesn’t get too down. Keep her busy.” She leaned up, slid her dark sunglasses down her nose a little and regarded me over the top of them. “You with me?”
I smiled. “Sure. Operation Distract Quinn is a go.”
“Awesome.” She pushed her glasses up again and sat back in her chair. “And I’ll do my best to keep my dirty thoughts about your hot bod to myself, ‘kay?”
I made some sort of sound in my throat, a noise between choking and groaning. Gia laughed and kicked up her feet.
“Oh, this is going to be fun.”
Leo left early on Sunday morning. He’d packed up all his stuff for college before we’d come down to the shore, and his dad brought it down on Friday night, so Leo could stay with us until the last minute. And by us, of course, I meant Quinn. The closer we got to Leo’s departure time, the more they clung to each other and the more desperate Quinn’s smiles became.
On that last morning, we all stood outside in the muggy, hazy air, everyone making uncomfortable small talk and stupid jokes as the clock ticked on.
Finally, Joe clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You better get on the road, bud. Long drive ahead of you. And what time are you supposed to meet Tate?” Leo was sharing the drive with another Carolina freshman football player, this one from Gatbury, the next town over from us. He’d met Tate Durham over the summer, through Leo’s friend Matt Lampert, and they’d hit it off. Tate was one of the few decent football guys I’d met, and I noticed he seemed to have a good influence on Leo.
“We’re meeting at exit two at nine o’clock.” Leo blew out a long breath. “Yeah, I need to get going.” He hugged my mom and Carrie, and then he and my dad thumped each other on the backs, joking about man-hugs.
When he got to me, he paused a minute and then wrapped one arm around my shoulder, drawing me close.
“Watch out for our girl, okay? Don’t let her get too sad. Make her laugh.” His voice was low and thick with emotion.
“I got this, Leo. Don’t worry.” I pulled back a little and looked him in the eye.
“Yeah, you got it. I know.” He managed a smile. “Thanks, Nate.”
We all stepped back a little as he and his mom said good-bye. Lisa held her son’s face in her hands, speaking some kind of wisdom meant only for his ears. Leo enveloped his mother in a tight embrace, and even I got a little choked up.
That left only Quinn. My mother cleared her throat and began to shepherd all of us back into the house.
“Okay, people, let’s give them some privacy. Let’s get breakfast started. Who’s going to be my sous chef today?”
We straggled through the front door. When I glanced back before I stepped inside, I saw Quinn wrapped in Leo’s arms, both of them rocking a little as she shook. I felt kind of like a voyeur and turned my head quickly.
“God, shouldn’t this be easier? He’s the third kid. I should’ve rolled over in bed, blown him a kiss and gone back to sleep.” Lisa blew her nose and wiped at her eyes. “This is ridiculous.”
“But he’s your baby.” Carrie rubbed her back, reaching for her own tissue. “I mean, he’s not even my kid by blood, and I’m welling up here.”
“Thanks for not laughing at me.” Lisa hooked an arm around my mom’s neck and another around Carrie’s. “I don’t know what I’d do without my girlfriends.”
“We keep each other sane. Or mostly sane.” My mom reached for the coffee pot. “Speaking of sanity, who needs a cup of caffeine?”
I wandered into the living room and leaned against the back of the sofa, watching the front door. My dad and Joe casually debated driving routes to Carolina as they set the table for breakfast. We were all pretending that everything was okay, that Quinn’s heart wasn’t breaking again just beyond the door.
When she came back inside, I didn’t make a move toward her; she’d need a little space, I knew. Her eyes were slightly red, but she smiled at me.
“I want to go out to the beach before breakfast. Want to come with me? It’s pretty cool still.”
“Sure.” I didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”
When Carrie and Bill had first begun renting this house, back when all of us kids were pretty little, they’d had the thoughtful foresight to make sure there was a ramp leading down to the beach, for when I came to visit. I had happy memories of running down that wooden slope with my walker to the sound of Leo and Quinn’s laughter and my mom’s worried shrieks.
Good times.
Today, though, Quinn and I both walked slowly down the ramp. Right before we reached the sand, Quinn paused and kicked off her sandals, leaving them at the edge of the wood. She took my arm, as if she needed me to steady her, although I knew it was more likely the other way around.
“Chilly this morning.” Quinn looked out over the pounding surf.
“Damp,” I corrected. “The sun will burn off the mist, and then it’ll be blistering by noon time.”
“Probably.” We reached the wet part of the sand, and Quinn stopped walking. “Will you be happy to go home today?”
I shrugged. “I guess. My mom keeps saying we need to do college shopping, but I’m not sure what she expects me to need. I’ve got clothes, they’ll give me a bed and a desk, and I’ll buy books and shit once I get there.”
Quinn laughed. “Typical guy. You need sheets, doofus, and towels and all that. That’s what your mother means.”
“Whatever.” I bumped my shoulder against hers, smirking. “Hey, you okay?”
She was quiet for a few minutes, her gaze focused far out at the horizon. “I think so. I know this is how it’s got to be, for now. Leo has to be at Carolina, playing football, and I have to be up here with my mom.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t make it easy, though.”
Quinn flashed me a smile of gratitude. “No, it doesn’t. I want to make this work, though. I know it was kind of weird to other people, probably, that Leo and I ended up back together so fast after my dad . . .” She stopped and took a deep breath. “But it felt right. It felt like something clicked. Something changed. Leo’s been a different person this summer, don’t you think?”
As much as I hated to admit it, I had to nod in agreement. “I overheard my parents talking about him. My dad said Leo’s grown up a little. Maybe the year that you two were apart taught him something.”
“Maybe it was good for both of us.” Quinn sighed and laid her head on my shoulder. “I think we see things a little clearer now. And we realize how important our relationship is, and how quickly stupid stuff can mess it up.”
“That’s good, I guess.” I ventured one arm around her, holding her loosely to my side. I knew this was nothing but friendship, nothing but Quinn being her usual affectionate self, but I was going to enjoy it anyway. “So you think everything’s going to be different this time? You and Leo are going to be able to deal with the distance thing, and being apart for four years?” Privately, I had my doubts. I couldn’t imagine being away from Quinn for four months, let alone four years; I’d been silently dreading our separation for college when she’d been planning to go to Evans.
I expected her to jump to assure me that she and Leo were going to be fine, that they’d come out on the other side of these college years even stronger. Instead, she frowned, her forehead furrowing.
“I . . . I hope so.” She answered me slowly.
“You know, a year ago—or maybe a year and a half ago—I had this crazy belief that everything turns out well. If I did the right things, worked hard, all that shit, my life would be the way I wanted it. I thought my parents would both be there when I graduated college, when I got married, and when I had kids. I really believed that Leo and I were going to be together forever, no matter what, because that’s what’s meant to be. But now, I know that nothing’s guaranteed. Nothing’s promised to any of us. My dad isn’t going to be there to walk me down the aisle. And as much as I want to believe that Leo and I are going to work this time, I know the odds are against us.” She shook her head, and her hair rubbed against my chin. “I guess I learned this summer that there isn’t any sure thing. Not even our next breaths.”
I shifted my weight, giving one leg a little break. Standing for long periods wasn’t easy for me, but there was no way I was going to suggest we move on now. Not when I had Quinn in my arms, even if it was only a friendly embrace. Her chest rose and fell against mine, and her hair blew up into my face. I breathed in her scent and struggled with how to respond to what she’d said.
“I think I’ve always known that,” I said at last. “At least, since I was about ten. I overheard a doctor talking about how long I might have to live, and I realized I didn’t have the same life expectancy as you and Leo.”
“God, Nate.” Quinn turned to look up at me, dismay on her face. “You never told us about that.”
I lifted one shoulder. “What did it matter? Nothing any of us could do, really. But I think I decided then that I don’t have time for bullshit, you know? Small talk, telling white lies, not being honest with people about how I feel . . . not being real. Life’s too short for us to be phony or waste time, right? Anyway, that’s what I took away from it. Appreciate every day and keep it real.”
Quinn rubbed my arm with her cheek. “Sometimes I forget how smart you are, Nate. Yeah, you’re right. Appreciate and keep it real.” She swiped at her eyes with her fingers and then rose to kiss my cheek. “Thank you for being my best friend. I know I leaned on Leo this summer, but I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. And I’m so glad we’re going to be together this year.” She snaked her arms around my chest and squeezed. “Don’t leave me, Nate, okay? Promise. I need you.”
Hanging by a Moment (Keeping Score #2) Page 8
