by K. K. Allen
He presses his lips together in a firm line and breathes out his nose before giving me a tight smile. “Okay. But I’m just holding onto it for you.”
I grin. “Deal.”
Somewhere between South Carolina and Georgia a buzz from my purse draws my attention from the darkening sky. Dang, I forgot to call Rose back. She called while we were loading up the back of the SUV, and it completely slipped my mind.
Johnny: Stopped by your house. Rose said you went on a road trip with your father. Would like to see you …
Oh. My heart nearly bursts from my chest before an overwhelming sense of relief washes over me. I’ve been bottling it all up. Every feeling. Every thought. Every hope. And now that he’s finally made a move, I can let myself bask in it. He actually took the time to phrase what he wanted to say, too. None of that vowel omission and short text I see from my other friends.
Now what? What do I say back? I can act like his return didn’t faze me in the least, like my life will go on without any detours down Johnny’s one-lane road to heartbreak. Not again.
I begin typing.
Me: On our way back. It was a nice trip. When?
I shouldn’t have asked him when. Why did I ask him when?
Johnny: Tomorrow?
That wasn’t the most appealing request, but it’s something, and Johnny isn’t much of a romantic. Perhaps I should let him wonder if I’m going to respond. Yes. I’ll give him some time.
“You okay? It’s quiet over there.” Paul’s voice is gentle, but nudging.
I shrug. “Things are complicated. Johnny wants to see me tomorrow.”
I can’t believe I’m talking to my father about Johnny. Of all people, he should be most opposed to all things Johnny, the one who left me on the dock with a broken heart.
“Do you want to see him tomorrow?” He asks, as if the answer is that simple. Didn’t he hear me when I said it’s complicated?
“Yes,” I respond with heavy reluctance. “I’m not sure what good it will do, though. He’s still the one who left.”
“He’s back in town, Katrina,” Paul states, as if the answer to my confused feelings is obvious. It surprises me at how at ease he seems with this conversation.
“Yes, but only because he followed Erebus here.”
Paul shrugs. “That part doesn’t matter. The point is, he’s back, and he’s asked to see you, and you’d like to see him too. Doesn’t seem so complicated.”
My heavy sigh turns into a laugh. “You think I should forgive him just like that? Dad, he broke my heart. How can I trust he won’t do it again?”
“Easy. Look into his eyes and ask him. If his answer is immediate; if his answer is heartfelt; if his eyes don’t stray … then you can be confident that whatever answer he’s giving you is the one you should believe with your whole heart, because he’s just given you his.”
Holy crap. I can’t believe the best relationship advice I’ve gotten so far just came from my father. That’s really good advice. I stare down at my phone and start typing.
Me: Sounds good …
I don’t give him much, but it will have to do. Anything more will give too much away.
Johnny: =)
He gave me a smiley! A galloping stampede takes off beneath my ribcage. He’s happy I agreed to meet him. An embarrassing smile spreads so wide across my face I move my head, letting my hair shield it from my dad’s view.
Johnny: I’m working tomorrow and then I have to run an errand. I’ll call you around 7.
I remember that I’ll be working tomorrow too. I’m picking up a volunteer shift at the Manatee Viewing Center, but I’ll be off around five o’clock, which will give me just enough time to get ready.
I can’t believe I’m going to see Johnny tomorrow. Finally. We’re going to talk. Although I’m not sure what he can say to me to make me forgive him for everything.
I frown. No, stop.
I don’t want to question this.
Me: Okay
His response is immediate.
Johnny: Okay :)
I smile.
Chapter Ten
And just like that, a week of winter break—gone.
At this time last year, I was helping Alec study his Apollo ancestry—well, what little we could find on the subject. There aren’t many books in the Summer library dealing with other descendants, so we were resourceful. After his parents begrudgingly handed over the adoption papers, we learned as much as we could about his birth parents.
Andreas was their surname. Alec Andreas. It would have fit him. They were born and raised on the small Greek island of Ikaria. Alec’s father, a local sculptor, was featured in a lot of newsletter articles we found online. On what was to be a short visit to Rockland County, New York to hand-deliver some artwork, Nick and Alexandra Andreas decided to extend their stay. They rented a home in Stony Point, and just a few months later, Alexandra gave birth to a baby boy named Alec. Papers were immediately drawn up, and baby Alec was handed over to the hospital. From that point on, the Andreas’ whereabouts were untraceable.
Ending our search wasn’t easy for Alec. He’d gone his entire life content with his situation without letting his curiosity get the better of him, and here we were at the brink of discovery. Alec continued to dig for months, calling the Rockland County hospital, the adoption agency, and the owners of the rental property. He even contacted his parents’ old residence in Greece, but all traces of Nick and Alexandra Andreas were lost.
When we finally moved past his heritage, we began focusing on his magic. It turns out Enchanter and Sun magic aren’t that much different. There are unique characteristics of a Sun god that come easily to descendants of Apollo, while Enchanters might perform the same magic at a less intense level, like at the carnival when Alec was able to ignite fire from his palms in seconds. An Enchanter would need physical objects, like paper and a match or two sticks, to create that same fire.
It’s safe to say this winter’s drama is escalating beyond the last’s.
I’m at the Manatee Viewing Center working my volunteer shift. I look forward to these weekly four-hour escapes from my life. No one bothers me here. It’s just me, the sea life, and the occasional guest who needs to ask me a question.
Today I’m on cleaning duty, which isn’t as bad as it sounds. In the unfortunate case that someone litters, I’m to dispose of it. I also sweep the rocks from the walkways, wipe down the glass displays in the exhibit, and keep the trash containers from overflowing.
Manatee counts are at a record high in the area this year, which could be attributed to the absence of the Equinox, but no one knows for certain. With Erebus back, I do hope we can sustain our clean water. There are hundreds of manatees resting in the waters between the Manatee Viewing Center and the energy plant, and they most likely won’t start traveling until early April when the water begins to warm back up.
As I sweep, a group of middle schoolers on the observatory bridge above catches my attention. Their backpacks are perched on the ledge as they take lighthearted jabs back and forth, playfully elbowing and threatening to throw each other in the water. I roll my eyes and smile until one of the boys knocks over a backpack that had been resting on the rail. It falls to the ground below, just at the water’s edge.
I step forward and unlock the gate quickly. “I’ll get it!” I call.
“Sorry about that,” one of the boy says. The others are laughing. The backpack is light enough, so I toss it up for the boys to catch. The owner catches it easily, surprise registering on his face, making me uneasy. “Nice throw!”
That was careless of me. The bag was probably much heavier than I could assess. “Thank you.”
I turn to the water where some of the manatees hover, and I lean in, smiling at their algae-covered skin and cute pug noses. Every time I stare at these creatures I’m reminded of the time Johnny brought me here to meet his “friends,” as he called them. He surprised me then. Actually, he surprised me a lot over those few weeks of gett
ing to know him. If Johnny was a book, I definitely misjudged his cover, but I’m happy I got to read the first few chapters. Johnny was broody by definition, rarely smiling. But when he did—sigh.
I am suddenly grateful to be the sole witness of my embarrassing thoughts.
The crowd above begins to thin as the sky gradually darkens. With a brief glance at my phone, I notice the time. It’s five o’clock. Two more hours until I see him. I have to take a deep breath to quiet the pounding within the walls of my ribs.
Voices from across the water alert my senses, and I look up to see two men, lit by the backdrop of the energy plant, smokestacks towering above them. The distance between us is nearly the width of a football field, but I can make out that they are discussing something, and their voices are low. Out of curiosity, I focus in on the features of the younger guy. Obviously I’ve got Johnny on the brain with every thought because I’m instantly hoping it’s him.
It is him.
I focus in on the older man with a sinking feeling in my chest. Dad. What are they doing together?
They shake hands, and my dad walks toward his SUV. And then, even from hundreds of feet away, I feel Johnny’s ice blue eyes focus in on me. I gasp. He sees me spying. Of course I’m spying; what does he expect? What are they doing together?
“Hi,” he says in an amused voice. He knows I can hear him even with the expanse of water between us. My senses are attuned to him always.
“Hi,” I say as I concentrate on his features again. Time has done nothing but make my heart beat stronger for him. Does it make me weak to care for someone who has caused me so much pain? Or is he stronger than I for making a decision to leave his life behind to do something so many would consider heroic?
“I just have to do a few things, and then I’ll come by your house. I was hoping I could take you somewhere … to talk.” He puts emphasis on the last two words as if I could misinterpret his meaning.
“Okay.” My lips twitch, but I hold back my smile. My voice is weak enough to give away my complete undoing in his presence.
We just stand here, neither of us moving or speaking. I’m not even sure we’re breathing. An intense breeze blows, the wind just as confused as I am, a mixture of angry whooshing and high-pitched whistles. For a moment, I choose to let go of everything I’ve been keeping in: the fear of him leaving again, the painful memory of watching his boat speed away from the dock, the anger and relief that washed over me the instant I realized he was back. I don’t have to say a word. For just a moment, I let it all go … but my insecurities don’t disappear. They simply pass silently through the space between us, everpresent and imminent.
I want to say more, but when I open my mouth to speak, I see someone else behind Johnny, beyond the confines of the energy plant. Her figure is all I can make out since she’s shrouded in darkness. Petite, average height. She stands against the perimeter gates, clutching it, staring up at the smokestacks. That’s strange.
“Katrina,” my dad calls from the main building behind me, “let’s go.”
I swivel my head around and see him in the distance. He looks impatient. “Be right there.”
Turning back around, I spot her again, but she’s walking away. I shake my head, dismissing the strangeness of the scene and concentrate again on Johnny, whose eyes haven’t strayed. “See you soon, Katrina.”
“Just Kat, remember?”
He smiles. “I’ll never forget.”
For a second, I almost feel the words in the breeze as I close my eyes. When I open my eyes, he’s gone.
“You were talking with Johnny?” I ask Paul as soon as I’m in his SUV.
He glances at me and then concentrates on the short drive to Summer Estate. “He came to see me about a job. We need guys like him at the plant, so I wanted to talk to him in person, make sure he was sticking around this time. Told him if he’s not planning on staying, we don’t have room for him.”
The nonchalance in Paul’s voice can’t mask the true meaning behind his words. His questioning had everything to do with me and my heart. He doesn’t want Johnny to leave and break my heart again. The thought wraps my entire body with warmth.
“What did he say to that?” Wild energy zigzags around my chest as I wait for his response.
“We’ll see. I told him to show up on Monday if he was serious.”
Those simple words are enough to give me hope, but still question the longevity of Johnny’s visit.
Somehow I’m able to mask my anticipation of tonight with a change of subject. “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” I remind him. “What are we doing?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I think I see a grin, but he hides it quickly. What is my father up to now? “I thought we’d take the boat out for a while. Nothing fancy,” he says. “I have to go to the plant in the morning, though. How does late afternoon sound?”
“Perfect.”
“How was work?”
I laugh. “Hardly work. It was good though. I rescued a boy’s backpack and made sure the museum glass was clean enough to eat from. They’re going to want to hire me full time,” I joke.
Paul laughs with me. “I’m sure they would if they had a budget. However, if it’s a job you’re after and two of them isn’t enough, then you can work at the plant too.” He smirks.
I scrunch my forehead and press my lips together. “No thanks. Sounds like you fulfilled your hiring quota for the week, anyway. I’ll stick to what I’m good at: cleaning and waitressing.”
He’s right on time, dressed in dark jeans and a khaki jacket over an ice blue t-shirt that matches his eyes perfectly. Scratch that. Nothing is as perfect as Johnny’s eyes.
I’m suddenly hit with a sensation that ripples through my entire body. He’s just here to talk, Kat. Don’t expect anything more. He might even be coming to say goodbye … again.
That same sensation that just rippled through me now flattens and thins in frustration.
I shut the door of Summer Estate, avoiding his gaze as I look everywhere but into the eyes that threaten to completely liquidate my insides.
We descend the stairs, matching each other’s steps one-for-one. Our arms brush against one another’s once, or maybe more. I stopped paying attention after the first time because I have to concentrate on other things, like steadying my breathing.
He walks me to the curb where a white convertible Jeep Wrangler sits and pulls open the passenger door. I climb in, feeling a bit overwhelmed. I didn’t know Johnny had a Jeep. I didn’t know he had a vehicle at all. The cloth seats are gray with black trim. The interior smells of salt, chlorine, and a touch of citrus fruit. Yum. I spot an orange peel at the edge of the driver’s seat, explaining the fragrance responsible for the rumble in my tummy.
I turn back to the passenger door to find his strong arms gripping the top of the frame, leaning in with his head tilted, casually regarding me. “Have you eaten?” His tone is warm, throaty, and pleasing to my ears. Did he hear my stomach?
Suddenly, I can’t even think of food. I can’t think at all. My brain has transformed into knotted rope. I thought he would take me on a drive and park somewhere, but now that he’s mentioning food, I am hungry. Charlotte prepared dinner, but my stomach wasn’t trustworthy enough to eat much.
“A little,” I say weakly. “Do you need to eat?” I attempt to look up at him, and his eyes swallow mine. He’s an angelfish, and I’m happy to be his bait. My next breath skips densely through the air in an attempt to hold his stare. He hasn’t moved away from the door. His mouth twitches as if he’s about to smile, pulling my focus to the curve of his lips.
Those lips.
“I know a place.” With that, he swings the door shut and moves around to the driver’s side, starting the engine and pulling away from the curb.
Something about being alone in a car with Johnny, both of us securely strapped in by seat belts, puts me at ease. There’s nowhere for us to go, and the distance between us is guaranteed … for now. At least my heart rate and b
reathing have steadied.
“Where are we going?” my voice grows stronger.
He shifts slightly but doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “I thought we could go somewhere away from Apollo Beach. Not far.”
Energy radiates through the Jeep, filling the silence. While he drives, I’m able to steal a few glances at him. Maybe more than a few glances. My eyes linger on his hands as they tightly grip the wheel. I run my eyes up the length of his arms, the strength of them hidden by his jacket. Naturally, I observe his profile next—strong jawline, trimmed stubble, unruly hair still glistening from a shower. How have I managed the past year and a half without drinking him in every single day? Clearly I’m dehydrated.
“How was your trip to North Carolina? That must have been … difficult.” He’s still focused forward, so he doesn’t catch my eyes invasively probing his body.
I appreciate the gentle phrasing of his words. I also appreciate that he’s curious about my trip. Before I can ask him how he knows where I went, he tells me. “Rose mentioned that’s where your father took you at Christmas.”
“It was not as bad as I thought it would be, actually.” Saying the words aloud help me understand how true they are. “It was kind of nice to be surrounded by her things again. I didn’t realize how much I’d forgotten in such a short time.” Life is devastating in that way.
Johnny admits that he knows all too well with a single nod of his head. My heart fractures as I recall the traumatic story of his parents’ death. I decide to change the subject.
“My father took me to Savannah on the way.” I know I light up as I tell him.
His eyes match mine. “Beautiful city, isn’t it?”
“You’ve been there?”
“Was there recently.”
