by Kelley York
Ash throws her head back and laughs. “I don’t know. Hunt, how would you rate Chance’s kissing on a scale of one to ten?”
My stomach flip-flops and I can feel my face burning. I’m going to crawl under the table. Maybe stab a fork into my jugular. Rachael can’t stare at me with such intense horror if I’m bleeding all over the place, right?
The last summer we spent here—in fact, right around the time we raced at the mall—Dad dropped the three of us off at the lake for a few hours, armed with water guns, a raft, and some hot cinnamon buns from a snack bar up the road. At some point, the subject of Ashlin and a boy she liked at school came up, which led to talk of dates, then kissing…and Ash said, “I wouldn’t know how to kiss a boy anyway.”
“It’s not like rocket science. Watch.” Chance scooted over, cinnamon bun in hand, and leaned in close. I tried to pretend I was more interested in blowing up the raft, but I watched them from the corner of my eye. Ash couldn’t stop giggling nervously even as Chance pressed his mouth to hers.
It was only a moment later that Chance pulled away with a pleasant laugh. “See? Just like that.”
Ash caught me looking, and my expression must’ve been less than impressed, because she blushed and pointed accusingly. “What’re you staring at? It’s not like you’ve ever kissed anyone.”
“Yes, I have,” I lied. In truth, I could have…if I’d wanted to. There was a girl in my English class who cornered me in the halls one day, told me she liked me, and leaned in for a kiss. She never got one. I panicked and ran away. So, by all technicalities, I could have and chose not to. That still counts.
“No, you haven’t,” Ash insisted. Chance took a slow bite of his cinnamon bun, polishing it off. I plugged the stopper on the raft, turning away, determined not to get into that argument because it would end with me either having to admit she was right or making up some lie that I would undoubtedly be found out on later.
I didn’t see Chance coming. One second, I was preparing to head into the water, and the next—he was on me.
His body was wet from swimming, slick and cool against me, his chest to my chest. And his mouth caught mine, every inch insistent and eager. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t react. Couldn’t form a coherent thought beyond the fact that his fingers were sticky where he grabbed my waist to hold me still, and he smelled like cinnamon. When his tongue slipped into my mouth, he tasted like it, too.
It was only when Ashlin squealed and clapped like we were putting on some kind of show that I thought to jerk back and did so, gasping. Chance grinned.
“There. Now you don’t have to lie about it.”
If there were ever a moment in my life I wish Ash hadn’t witnessed, it was that.
And it dawns on me, as Chance is reaching over to steal one of my fries, that I wish Ash hadn’t seen it. Not that it hadn’t happened.
God. What is wrong with me?
“Wait a second.” Rachael lowers her fork. She doesn’t for a moment take her eyes off me. “You and Chance—”
“It was just a peck on the cheek,” Chance interrupts with a curt laugh. “I was goofing around. Trying to embarrass him. Granted, it’s not that hard to do.”
Ash is looking between Chance and me around bites of her food, and her flat expression seems forced. Rachael is trying to smile, but her frown is overpowering it, and that means she isn’t happy but she realizes she has no reason to blow this up into a bigger deal than it needs to be. I could kiss Chance for saving me.
No—no, I could hug him. That’s safer. Yeah.
Ashlin
Rachael’s pissed off. Hunter is either oblivious or ignoring it.
Okay, maybe pissed isn’t the right word. Maybe she’s just…put off. Confused. Uncomfortable. I have no idea. But ever since Chance and Hunt made a scene at the mall and she and I had to walk through people who were muttering about the two idiots running like their pants were on fire, she’s been awful quiet. The whole kissing conversation at lunch didn’t help matters much.
“They always do stuff like this,” I told Rachael, but I think my attempt to make it better made it worse. Hunter has always been the sort to goof around a little, especially when Chance is involved. Judging by Rachael’s reaction, maybe he isn’t entirely like that with her. Maybe the Hunter I’m used to isn’t the same as the Hunter she knows. Hell, I’m sort of confused about how well I know Hunter anymore, too.
Because the Hunter I talked to through e-mail and phone and text from California may not have been the sort to gush about his relationship, but I know he cared about Rachael. I know they went on dates to eat sushi, usually with Rachael’s parents, and they went to the movies or a museum a few times a month. It’s definitely different than the things he, Chance, and I always did together, now that I think about it.
Chance is a big kid. Hunt and I know this. I’m not sure about my brother, but I like it. I’m not ready to grow up and be one of the so-called adults who stop doing all the fun things in life. Like having snowball wars or impromptu races in the most inappropriate locations. Or plotting adventures to secluded islands.
An adventure Chance hasn’t forgotten about. When we swing by the only department store our town has to offer, a Kmart, it’s to pick up snacks and sodas in preparation for a movie night. But Chance catches me by the hand and makes a beeline across the store to the sports section. More specifically, to their selection of rafts.
Standing there staring at the inflatable boats leaves my mouth a little dry from equal parts excitement and nervousness. We’re really going to do this. We’re going to paddle out to Hollow Island where, as far as we know, no one has set foot in years.
I’ve always sat back and watched Chance and Hunter challenging each other. They were the goofballs causing trouble and daring each other to do stupid things, while I acted as the referee on the sidelines. This will be one of the first times I’ve gotten to participate. I’ll be a part of the real action.
A sudden thought dawns on me. “When are we doing this?”
Chance is crouched, peering at the product details on the side of a box. I hope he knows what he’s looking for, because I sure don’t. “Mm. I was thinking New Year’s Eve. Wouldn’t that be a cool way to celebrate at midnight?”
That’s what I was afraid of. “Rachael goes home New Year’s Day.”
His expression doesn’t change. He won’t even look at me. “Then we’ll take her with us.”
I have a feeling Rachael will not be as gung ho about this idea. If mall races horrified her, then a midnight rafting trip to an abandoned island is sure to burst a blood vessel in her brain. Before I have a chance to say as much, Rachael and Hunt, pushing a cart of snacks and drinks, round the corner in search of us.
“You’re looking at rafts?” Rachael asks. I wonder if she’s still giving Hunt the ice-queen treatment. Judging from the tired set of his mouth, I’d wager yes.
“Uh huh.”
“Why?”
“To go rafting,” Chance answers with a vague undercurrent to his voice that sounds a lot like, Duh.
“Oh. All of us?”
Chance finally taps a box, communicates to Hunter with nothing more than a look, a tilt of his chin, and Hunt moves to help him lift the box into the cart. Two hundred bucks for a raft and oars. I would ask how Chance is affording this, but I don’t think I’ve seen him spend much of his paychecks since he started working with me. He’s likely been saving up.
“Of course we are,” he says once the box is settled. It now takes both the boys to steer the cart to avoid crashing into anything. “New Year’s Eve. We have to show you the best place in town before you leave, don’t we?”
Rachael folds her arms loosely but says nothing. At least she isn’t openly adverse to the idea, but then again, she doesn’t know all the details. I really don’t want to be the one to tell her. Which is why I try to keep at Chance’s side, but my plan fails and Rachael manages to accost me somewhere near cosmetics when the guys get distracted looking for
a line that isn’t a mile long.
“Rafting?” she asks. “Hunter’s never been rafting. Has he?”
“Don’t think so.” I bite my lip. Really, really don’t want to have this conversation. But I guess if I tell her, I can try to make her see it’s not as terrible of an idea as it sounds. “There’s this island off the beach with a bunch of abandoned buildings and stuff. So we thought we’d raft out there and explore.”
Rachael squints, mouth forming a small O as realization sets in. Her back stiffens, shoulders squaring. “We’re…”
I catch her arm before she can march over to Hunter and say anything. “Look, Rachael, I know you’re feeling a little out of place. But we just do stuff like this, and we’ve never gotten hurt. We’ve been hiking in the woods past dark, jumping from trees into lakes, and scaling cliff faces since we were kids. We’re still in one piece, aren’t we? This is only a short rafting trip there and back, and there’ll be four of us, so it’s not like we’re wandering into the wilderness alone, right?”
Her already thin mouth thins out farther. She isn’t convinced, but she isn’t saying anything, so I grapple blindly for some way to explain. “This is just…how it is. These have been our summers as far as I can remember. I know it’s probably weird to someone who hasn’t been around it, but Chance isn’t just a friend. He’s family, and we love him. But…” Deep breath. Take one for the team. “If you really aren’t comfortable going rafting, I’ll stay home with you. We can have a girls’ night.” The thought leaves me so unhappy I could cry. I’ve been looking forward to this trip, and the idea of being third wheel, the one left out, yet again…
Rachael turns back to the guys, who are almost to the checkout and are arguing over a pack of gum like five-year-olds. No, I guess Rachael wouldn’t understand this. How comforting it is, how much fun we have, how much Chance means to us.
And I also know I’ve crammed her between a rock and a hard place. After calling Hunter out earlier on being kissed by Chance when we were younger, and seeing Rachael’s reaction, I’m willing to bet she doesn’t particularly want Hunter and Chance alone together. On an abandoned island, of all places. After my conversation with Chance last night, I’m not sure what I think about it, either. There isn’t something going on between them, I know that much. At least…not physically. There’s no way in hell either of them could keep something like that from me. Is it possible for Chance to have feelings for my brother? I can’t rule it out. If he does, what about Hunter? I’m feeling so helpless, not knowing the answers and being too afraid to ask.
Where would that leave me?
Finally, Rachael sighs. “Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. I’m just being unfair and…jealous.” She lets her arms drop to her sides. “I can give rafting a try. It’ll be my last night with Hunter before I go home; I don’t want to waste that.”
I grin as the boys, impatient with our slacking behind, wave us over. When we catch up, Rachael links her arm with Hunter’s and smiles.
…
There’s no way to explain the raft to Dad, so we keep it stashed in the trunk. Dad spent his free time growing up with unlimited access to creeks and beaches and hills with his friends, too, so he’s pretty lenient as far as us running around and doing what we want. But even he would not be ecstatic at the idea of us paddling across a freezing ocean to get to an abandoned island where any number of injuries could occur.
It’s easy to dull the excitement of our rafting trip when Christmas is around the corner. Rachael and I get our shopping done together and let the boys do their own thing. Rachael seemed reluctant at the idea, and I’m not sure if my feelings should be hurt or not. Logically speaking, I know it isn’t that she doesn’t like me, but that she wants the time with Hunter. Preferably without Chance around.
We hit the mall bright and early Tuesday morning after dropping Hunter off at work. Chance never came by, and he isn’t scheduled to work today, so maybe it’s one of the rare times he decided to stay home. Funny how it’s stranger for him to be home than it is for him to be at our house every day.
For Chance, Hunter and I are pitching in together on a cell phone. It drives us nuts that we can’t find him when we need to, so it seems logical. I plan on buying some new shirts for Dad. Maybe a few books. He’s the only person I know in existence who reads Westerns, and I have a rocking employee discount.
For Hunter, I pick out a fancy box set of The Godfather series, which are his favorite movies. You’d think, being a guy, he’d be easy to shop for. Yet he isn’t big on clothes, video games, or sports—unless his mom forces him to be—so that leaves a narrow selection of stuff he wants. Rachael eyes my purchase with a funny look on her face, mouth downturned, and I’ve honestly had about enough of her moping today. If she has something to say, she should say it.
Sighing, I hand over money to the cashier. “What’s wrong?”
Rachael’s gaze roams from the box set to my face and then off to nothing in particular. “I’m kind of envious.”
Okay. Not the answer I was expecting. “Of what?”
She shrugs. “Even though you only see Hunter now and again, you seemed to know exactly what to get for him. I spent two months before his birthday looking for a present, and even then I don’t think he liked it much.”
I can’t honestly remember Hunt telling me what he got for his birthday. Which means, while he didn’t dislike it, it certainly wasn’t memorable or else he would’ve been excited to share. I’m not about to tell Rachael that, though; Hunter would never have wanted her to think he hated her present.
“I’m sure he loved it. He’s a simple guy, you know? There aren’t a lot of material things he wants.” I pocket my change and take the bag, and we head out of the store. As much as it makes me inwardly groan and her sullenness gets on my nerves, I do feel bad Rachael is having a hard time here, and that she seems to genuinely care about Hunter and wants to do something nice for him, so— “Here.” I hold out the bag.
Rachael stops, stares at it, frowns. “What?”
“Pay me back for this and give it to Hunt. I can find him something else.”
“I couldn’t do that, Ashlin.” But she bites her lip, and I know she’s considering it. I stand there with my hand outstretched, silent, until she reluctantly takes the bag from me with an embarrassed smile. “Only if you’re sure…”
I’m a little disappointed, but she is right. I see Hunter pretty rarely, and yet when I find something he’d like, I know it immediately. I’m not going to admit to myself I’m feeling guilty. Even with her sulking and the tension between her and Chance, I know she’s trying. I know she cares about Hunter, and sometimes I need to remind myself this is just as strange for her as it is for him. So I smile and shrug, nudging her with my elbow. “No worries. Come on; we still need to find a present for Dad.”
Hunter
Chance tears into his present with the fervor of a hungry lion ripping into a zebra. He has the bow stuck to the top of his head, a ribbon cascading down his forehead. You would think he’d have stayed at home last night to wake up and have Christmas with his parents. I mean, no matter how bad it is there, he’s got to at least have a Christmas with them, right? He told me it didn’t matter. He gets to spend every other Christmas at home, so he might as well enjoy this one with us. When he saw the Christmas tree this morning with the presents underneath, his eyes got so wide and his smile so big it broke my heart.
After pitching in for the raft and blowing a good chunk of money on movies, gas for driving around, and eating out, Ash and I couldn’t afford the most amazing phone, but it’ll serve its purpose. Chance gets the box free and stares at it, expression twisted up in confusion.
“It’s a…?”
“A phone, genius. What’s it look like?” I say.
“I get that.” Chance’s gaze flicks to me, then to Ash. Rachael’s eyes are downcast, focused on the earrings she got from Ash. Shoul
d I have asked her if she wanted to go in on the phone with us? Chance begins prying open the box. “But…it’s like, you know, I can’t…”
“It’s a pre-paid phone,” Ash explains, abandoning her lapful of wrapping paper and crawling from the floor up to the couch beside him. “You pay for minutes as you need them. Way easier than a phone bill, ’cause you don’t have to pay for minutes you don’t use.”
Chance hesitates then smiles. I let out a relieved breath.
“Can I use it to text you guys?” He unwraps the phone, handling it with care like he’s never held something so delicate before.
“Sure can,” I say.
“And since you won’t get far without some minutes,” Isobel pipes up, while Dad holds out an envelope. Chance takes it and flips open the tab. Inside are a handful of 100-minute cards. Not cheap, but given that Dad bought Ash a new camera and me a new laptop, I’d say he’s been preparing for this.
Chance’s smile widens. He loops an arm around Ash and crushes her against his side, planting a wet kiss on her forehead while she squeals and laughs. I can’t tell if the affection bothers me or not. There’s something so playful and innocent in the way he handles Ash that I’m not sure I have reason to get worked up about it. Chance then gets up and gives Dad and Isobel a hug, before setting his sights on me. And what can I do but grin when he throws himself at me, arms squeezing me tight, mouth against my cheek.
Except less my cheek and more my jaw.
An inch of difference that multiplies the intimacy of it tenfold.
A pleasant shiver jets straight down my spine. When he pulls back to sit down again, I can tell by the tense set of Rachael’s shoulders that she saw, and it did not go unnoticed. I pretend not to see the way she’s staring at me. It’s Christmas. It’s supposed to be a good day, and fighting with her over things she thinks she knows isn’t how I want to spend it.
