“I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Getting a quick hug from my favorite person.”
She rolled her eyes, fighting the smile trying to play on her lips. “Oh please. You could’ve just asked. I’ll give you a hug any time.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
The atmosphere grew tense. The question was serious, and judging by Sherry’s expression—she knew it. We used to hug all the time, without a single thought about it. But ever since that kiss—well really, it was more of a peck—everything felt different. Maybe it was our slowly changing bodies, our hormones trying to break free. But we sensed that we couldn’t simply hug like the carefree children we used to be. Those days were over. Now, every touch seemed to mean more, especially lately.
Sherry cleared her throat, but her eyes never left mine, refusing to back down or feel embarrassed. “So, was there an actual reason you wanted me to sneak out of my house and risk getting grounded? Or did you just want to hug me?”
We both stood up and I held my hand out to her. “C’mon, I found something I want to show you.”
Without another thought about it, she put her palm in mine and let me lead her away from our houses. “Where are we going?” We were far enough away that she could speak at a normal volume.
“It’s a surprise.”
Her eyebrows rose. “The last time you surprised me it didn’t exactly go very well.”
She didn’t need to remind me. It happened a few months ago at the beginning of the summer. We’d been living next door to Sherry for almost a year when my dad and Sherry finally crossed paths, something I’d been desperately trying to avoid. It hadn’t been particularly difficult to keep them apart since my parents never tried getting to know anyone. I’d also made Sherry promise she would never come over unexpectedly. These were mainly precautions; I would never trust someone as precious as Sherry around him. Her eyes had gone soft when I told her that.
I knew it was unrealistic to hope that for four years I could avoid it; I just didn’t think I’d be the one responsible for it…
I watched Sherry walk around my bedroom, absorbing every detail for the first time.
When I was younger I’d felt like I was suffocating whenever I was in our old apartment. Even now, this house felt more like a pit stop than anything else. I didn’t hate it like before, but there was no happiness in being “home”—at least not for me. But, like with everything else, Sherry brought new life to the place. Her simple, unassuming presence injected me with so much feeling I couldn’t help the buzz I felt.
Especially because my parents were out of town for the weekend.
“Do you want something to drink?” I asked.
“Sure.” We walked to the kitchen and I poured her drink as she took a seat on the counter. “So, what’s this big surprise?”
I handed Sherry the glass before holding out the letter I’d tucked in my back pocket. Sherry unfolded it and her eyes grew wide as they flew over the words. “You got it?” she asked, her words ringing with excitement, her soda forgotten beside her.
“Yeah! You’re looking at one of the new head photographers of our school paper.”
“Congratulations!” She launched herself off the island and gave me a big hug. I squeezed her back, my whole being infused with an overwhelming amount of joy. I was so lost in the moment, I hadn’t heard the front door open.
“Well, well…”
I froze.
His voice crawled over my skin, leaving an itchy, uncomfortable feeling I would never be able to shake. Sherry and I slowly pulled away from each other. Her eyes shifted over my shoulder, wide and unsure.
I finally turned around to face him, giving him a nod. “Dad.”
His smile was… off as he appraised Sherry. It wasn’t slimy necessarily, just… calculating.
“What, no introductions?”
“Sherry, this is my father. Dad, this is Sherry, she lives next door.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Surely there’s more to it if you’re groping her in my kitchen.”
I resisted the urge to say anything back. That was where his power came from—my response.
“It’s nice to meet you.” My dad stepped forward and extended his hand, with that stupid, creepy smile still on his face. She seemed hesitant, throwing me a quick glance, before stepping forward and shaking it.
I hated that Sherry was looking at him, that they were talking… touching. It made my skin feel tight. I tried to figure out the quickest way to end this impromptu meeting.
Clearing my throat, I put my hand on Sherry’s lower back. “We were just leaving.” I gave him no time to respond as I guided her out of the kitchen and toward the front of the house.
We were down the steps and on the sidewalk when the front door opened.
“Sherry?” His voice saying her name was like nails on a chalkboard. It was wrong and disturbing, and it made me shiver. Reluctantly, we both turned around. “You come on back here anytime, ya hear?”
Our smiles were tense and our nods forced, but he seemed pleased. He started whistling and shut the door. I looked over at Sherry and saw that her expression hadn’t changed. The smile she was giving me was just as strained.
“I’m sorry.”
“No biggie. Let’s get out of here.” She shrugged it off and began walking back toward her house.
To me, it was a huge deal. I felt like I was tainting her by dragging her into this mess she should never have to be a part of. At that point in time, she was right, it was a small moment with no consequence.
But it was the beginning.
All disasters start somewhere and I knew, I just knew, that meeting was the beginning of ours.
“This is a foolproof surprise, I promise,” I said.
“I trust you.”
I squeezed her hand and we made our way down the chilly streets of Fletcher in silence until we reached the destination.
“You shouldn’t have?” she joked.
It was true, it wasn’t much to look at. The abandoned building had been tagged and trashed since the company went belly-up six years ago.
“Don’t judge by what you see. How do you feel?”
She closed her eyes and listened before smiling. “Peaceful.”
With a broad grin, I pulled her toward the fire escape and led her to the roof. It was only a four-story building, but that was high for our town and the view stretched out miles in each direction, nothing impeding our line of sight.
“Wow,” she whispered, turning around in a circle to take it all in.
“Yeah.”
We didn’t say anything else as we moved toward the center where I’d laid out a heavy-duty sleeping bag and one long pillow for us to share. Sherry and I lay down, our eyes on the sky that burned with millions of stars. The silence settled around us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt right. And in the blink of an eye, it was time to leave.
I would have sworn we’d only been there for a few minutes, but the alarm blaring from my phone was telling me we’d been there almost half an hour.
“We should probably get going,” I said quietly, squeezing her hand. If it wasn’t cold out and I wasn’t worried about her getting in trouble, I would have suggested we stay out here all night.
It made me happy to see her reluctance to get up. Her cheeks and nose were rosy, but any guilt I had about us staying out here too long was chased away by the content smile she aimed my way.
I had thought a lot about love over the years.
What did it mean?
Are there different kinds?
How did you know when you felt it?
When I was little I’d thought it a myth, something we told children to provide them comfort. But the more time I spent around Sherry and her family, the more I saw it. The more I felt it.
Watching Sherry walk to the side of the roof, looking as sad as I was about separating, was the first time I thought, I love you.
I didn’t have all the answers to my quest
ions, and more and more I was starting to think it wouldn’t be love if you could define or explain it.
But that night I thought, in the simplest of terms, maybe love was not wanting to say goodbye.
“I don’t get it.” Tyler was leaning against the locker next to mine, chomping on his gum like a freaking horse. I looked over to find his gaze trained on something down the hall behind me. Frowning, I followed his line of sight until I landed on Sherry. That frown instantly morphed into a smile as I watched her shuffle her books in and out of her locker, headphones in her ears, ignoring the bustling world around her.
“What don’t you get?” I asked, watching her slam the locker shut and head toward us. Her eyes settled nowhere, content to stare straight ahead and avoid interaction.
“Why are you friends with her? I mean she’s smokin’ hot, but…” I turned around just in time to see his gaze roam over her body, slowly leering, something he didn’t have the right to appreciate, especially knowing what he would probably say next. “She seems like a bitch,” he finished, his head following her as she passed us to stare at her ass. My fists involuntarily clenched at my sides, unsure if they wanted to punch him for checking her out or for calling her a bitch. Most likely both.
I knew part of the reason he was saying this crap was because he was embarrassed. He asked her out last month and when she said no in front of his friends, he tried to laugh it off by asking her if she was stubborn and saying that it was okay, because he liked a challenge. He even winked at her.
Sherry didn’t miss a beat when she’d said, “What an original response to getting rejected. What’s next? Are you going to ask if I’m a lesbian?” She’d walked off without another word as he stewed in anger while his friends laughed at him.
I was in no mood to stroke his ego. It was true that Sherry’s outward personality had grown cold over the years, but that had nothing to do with who she really was. Underneath her anger at injustices and fear of what my father could do, I still saw traces of that bright and happy girl with an infectious smile and loud laugh. She just didn’t give them out to everyone; you had to know her and she had to trust you. Something she came to do very little of as we grew up.
“She’s not.” I was trying to feign a collectedness I definitely didn’t feel. I had to because I wasn’t this person. I was not my father. I didn’t hit people. I was the “nice guy,” the one everyone said hello to, and no one felt uncomfortable around.
“You’re just saying that ‘cause you wanna get laid.” He nudged me with his elbow. “Unless… have you already gotten some?”
We weren’t good enough friends for this. We’d hung out a few times after a game of hoops, but that was it, so I calmly said, “Tyler. Shut up.”
He was momentarily stunned by the firm words that were contradicted by my tone. I watched him swallow roughly before he awkwardly laughed it off. “Dude, if she’s making you wait, you could at least, ya know, play the field.” I arched an eyebrow. “Sleep around before you get together that way. It has plenty of benefits… one, you’ll know if you’re missing something. Two, you’ll get practice. Three, you won’t have blue balls while you wait.” Tyler grinned wide like this was the best plan he’d ever come up with. I stared at him blankly.
“That might be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.” I shut my locker before turning around and walking away from him.
“No problem, dude. I get it, I’ll lay off,” Tyler called out to my back. I wasn’t sure what he “got,” but I was almost positive it wasn’t the point.
I looked to where Sherry had disappeared to, hoping she’d seen me and was hanging around. Much to my dismay, she was nowhere to be found. I knew if she had seen me, I’d be smiling and walking toward a gorgeous redhead right now instead of sulking down an empty hallway.
I understood Tyler’s perception of Sherry. Yes, she looked stern most of the time, and she rarely smiled when we were in public. Yet, I kind of loved that about her. It was like she was giving me a gift every time she did smile. It wasn’t something she gave away freely—I had to work for it, making me feel like I’d won something precious.
Her smiles were easier to coax out when it was just the two of us. Or when we were with her parents. But otherwise, she usually appeared closed off.
The only other friend she really had was Morgan Sheffield, who by her own rights seemed equally unfriendly. Their idea of having fun was being in the same room and doing separate things, occasionally throwing out a comment every hour or so. When I asked her why she hadn’t made more friends, she shrugged it off, saying she didn’t need anyone else. Sherry was extremely close to her parents, to the point where some kids considered it weird. But she’d always been that way, even more so after she discovered how my parents treated me. She was wise beyond her years, just like I was. Me from experiencing abuse and neglect in the one place that was supposed to be my safe haven, and her because she witnessed the aftermath.
I knew it was because, as time went on, she saw more evil in the world than a child ever should. Even after her brother’s death, which happened less than a year before I met her, she still smiled. Death was a part of life. It sucked, but it was an inevitable and painful lesson every person had to learn.
But abuse and neglect?
That wasn’t something Sherry should’ve ever had to deal with, but being friends with me had done just that. It forced her to deal with something that brought her a little closer to earth.
It took the carefree, wanting-to-fly-above-the-clouds kid she was and it made her a little more human, a little more jaded, and a lot more distrustful.
Because it wasn’t just the abuse, it was also the way no one seemed to care. After I’d tried to tell a couple teachers and the police, both of whom dismissed me, Sherry was more than a little discouraged by the world. By all the pain and suffering we let happen simply because the world was too weak and scared to fight back.
I was a large part of the reason Sherry was the way she was. But I couldn’t entirely hate it, because I loved the person she was, even if I hated how she got there.
She didn’t talk unless she had something to say. She didn’t sugarcoat things or cover up her feelings. If I hurt her, she told me. If I made her happy, she showed me. Often by throwing her arms around my neck and holding on tight.
She wasn’t an overly emotional person. But when she did show emotion, I felt it that much deeper. I saw her true feelings in the little things she did, even if no one else could.
So Tyler didn’t need to understand her. All that mattered was I did.
15 years old
I was slowly noticing things. Noticing him. Like how coarse and dark his leg hair had become. And how much deeper his voice had gotten. How his stature suddenly towered over me, right before he wrapped his arms around me, arms that were now thicker and more defined.
I was becoming more aware of his body than my own.
For instance, as we sat on the couch, side by side, our bodies nearly touching, I could’ve described so many things about him in detail. The rough feel of the fabric of his shirt against my bare forearm when I’d accidentally grazed his chest, reaching across him for my drink. The heat radiating off him, practically begging me to burrow closer. The faint scent of cinnamon from the gum he was chewing. The light tap of his foot against the floor. I noticed his long, thick fingers, imagining them in places that made my skin flush bright red. I never knew fingers could look so damn attractive.
I noticed all these things. What I didn’t notice? Apparently I had accidentally sat on the TV remote. About five minutes after ogling him, I acknowledged the uncomfortable lump. I said nothing when I leaned toward him, lifting my butt up and removing the source of my pain, setting it on the coffee table.
It’s was New Year’s Eve, thirty minutes shy of midnight. His parents were—predictably—out of town, and my parents were at a party ringing in the New Year, so we were alone sitting on my couch watching the countdown. For some reason, this next year felt l
ike it was going to be a big one. Hunter and I would both be turning sixteen, and if my rapid fascination with his body was any indication, there was no way we’d be friends this time next year.
My shoulder had bumped his and when I turned to look at him, he was staring right at me. His eyebrows were pinched and he wore a small frown.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He shook his head and looked forward. I caught sight of the scar behind his ear that he’d gotten when he was younger, when his father had been more prone to violence.
“Hunter…” I cautiously ventured. This wasn’t the place or time, but suddenly I needed to know.
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
He smiled over at me. “Always.”
“I know I should have asked a long time ago… I just couldn’t. But I need to know now… I need to understand…”
“Understand what?”
“Why did your father hit you? Why do they ignore you?” His smile slipped and he turned his gaze toward the TV.
We’d always had a very close relationship; we never censored ourselves and there wasn’t a single thing we wouldn’t talk about.
Except this.
We rarely gave a voice to his father’s crimes.
“I don’t know,” he said softly. He didn’t sound sad or angry, only curious. “I think… I think I just messed up the life he had planned. He loves my mom. I know you’ve probably wondered if he hits her. He doesn’t. She’s his entire world. From what I’ve gathered over the years, he wanted her to abort me.” He shuddered in a breath. “But she had some random moment of clarity, thinking motherhood would make her happy. And even though he didn’t want me, he wanted her to have that joy. Somewhere early on they must have realized their mistake, because the only memories I have are painful or indifferent ones.” He huffed out a humorless laugh. “I’m not sure which was worse.”
Hunter plucked at a stray fabric. “Actually, I do know. The worst part about it all is what it’s done to you.”
Unveiling Ghosts (Unveiling Series, Book 3) Page 8
