The party was held in a barn that had been repurposed as a guest house, but like, if your guests were people you hated. It was huge and had an open floor plan. The crappy little kitchen was built out of discount cabinetry, was full of stuff they probably bought in the clearance aisle at a Home Depot. The furniture was falling apart, smelled like livestock and was probably fifty years old. I didn’t even want to know what the bathroom looked like, so I made sure I didn’t drink much that I would have to find out.
Shelby met up with Jake as soon as we arrived, and they disappeared into the crowd of people. Ash held my hand as we wove our way through the party, saying hello to people we knew. We weren’t drinking and mostly everyone else was, so in a way it felt like we were the only two people here. Ash was dressed as Dracula, with a cape his mother had sewn and those plastic vampire teeth that never really stay in place when you talk. Ash fielded a ton of questions about why he didn’t dress like Bob Marley because of the dreads. After about the fifth time I heard him answer, “Who the hell is Bob Marley?” I pulled him aside.
“You know who Bob Marley is, right?” I asked.
He looked toward the unfinished roof and let out a long breath. “Yeah. I’m just sick of being compared to him because of my hair. We have like nothing in common besides the dreads, especially since I don’t smoke pot.”
“Well you play guitar and sing so . . .” I said, poking him in the stomach. “You have a little in common.”
His frustration melted into a warm smile of appreciation as he looked me over, somehow seeing past all the makeup and taking me in as I normally am. “You’re really beautiful,” he whispered, taking both of my hands in his.
“I guess I did a terrible job of looking like an animated corpse,” I said, squishing my lips to the side. “I’m supposed to be grotesque.”
He leaned down and kissed me and then cradled my face in his hands. “You smell like Sephora, not the walking dead.”
I laughed a little and reached my blood-covered hands around his silky vampire cape. I let myself get lost in his dark eyes and let all of the party noise fall away as I stared at him. We’d only been together a couple of months, but they were the best months of my life. “I’m so glad we’re both home for Halloween,” I said, lacing my fingers together behind his neck.
He gripped me around the waist and pulled me into a quick hug before meeting my gaze again. Something in his expression shifted and a knot formed in my stomach. “What is it?”
His tongue ran across his bottom lip, slowly, as if he was thinking about something. Finally, his lips parted and he shook his head slightly. “Nah . . . it’s—nothing.”
My brows pulled together. “Ash Carter. You’re clearly keeping something from me.”
He grinned, his eyes crinkling in that way that always made my heart melt. “Yeah, I am.”
I crumpled my face into a pout. “That’s mean. I thought you were a nice boyfriend.”
He grabbed the sides of his cape and wrapped them around me, pulling me against his hard chest until we were in our own little black satin world. “I am a nice boyfriend,” he whispered into my ear. The stubble on his chin tickled my cheek and I tilted my head, letting it nuzzle against his chest, right in between his neck and collarbone, the place I fit perfectly when we were together.
The radio started playing a slow song with a deep bass beat and Ash began to sway to the music, letting his chin rest on top of my head.
“You should tell me what you’re thinking,” I murmured into his shirt while we rocked slowly to the beat. He smelled so wonderful I’m not sure why I ever let myself get more than a few inches away from him.
“I will, Hana.” I felt his lips press onto my hair. “I’m just not sure a dumb Halloween party is the best place to tell you that I’m completely in love with you.”
I lifted my head and pulled back a little so that I could look at him. My heart was beating so fast it made my nose feel numb. “What was that?” I asked, aiming for coy and flirty, not shy and nervous.
Ash ran a hand over his dreadlocks and gave me this knowing look. “Oh it’s nothing it’s just . . . yeah,” he said, taking out his plastic vampire teeth. “I’m in love with you.”
Chapter 10
Maybe Ash did smell like airplane. The moment he walks down the hallway, all showered and dressed in dark jeans and a red T-shirt that fits him a little more tightly than it used to, I can smell the cleanness of him. The citrusy soap he uses, the manly scent of his cologne. Shelby and I look up from the couch in the living room, where we’d been playing a Jenga game her little brother, Shawn, had left on the coffee table.
“Ready?” Shelby asks. She frowns at a middle piece of the game and then carefully shoves her finger into it and knocks it out. The tower wobbles but remains standing.
“Yeah, but I’m not really feeling pizza,” Ash says. He lifts an arm and scratches the back of his neck. I turn my attention back to the game although all I want to do is stare at his bicep. God, Hana. What is wrong with you?
“Then what do you want?” Shelby asks.
I lean forward, looking for a wobbly piece of the Jenga game.
“Burger Barn?” Ash says. “The guys are all about sushi and fancy steakhouses. I’ve been dying for a regular freaking burger.”
“Sounds good,” Shelby says, slapping her knees. “Hana, are you ready? Or do you want to play this stupid game forever?”
“I’m ready, but only because I’m pretty sure I’ll lose if we keep playing.”
Ash holds up a plastic and metal key with a large blue tag on it. “I’ll drive.”
Shelby does this jerk of a move where she insists on sitting in the backseat and leaves me crawling into the front seat of the massive F150 Ash has rented for the short term he’s back home. His sad little Mazda sits in the shop, the tires flat from weeks of neglect.
“I’m definitely buying one of these when I get home for the long term,” Ash says, running his hands over the steering wheel. “I feel like I’m driving a tank instead of my old tiny little truck.”
I play with the hem of my shirt, refusing to look over at him but doing it in a way that doesn’t look like I’m avoiding him. The drive is agonizing. I reply to Shelby’s small talk, do a lot of staring out of the window, and tell myself about a million times to stop thinking of the days when I was in the middle seat of Ash’s rental trucks with Shelby in the passenger seat. It almost feels weirder to be sitting here without the weight of his arm around my shoulders.
The Burger Barn parking lot is full, because there’s only two places you can get a burger in Mixon, and the other one is well known for its dollar menu and golden arches. Burger Barn uses real ingredients and most nights has a live band playing on the patio. Also they serve beer. It’s probably because of the beer that the place is packed tonight.
Ash parks at the back of the gravel parking lot. The scent of burgers on the grill fills the air and makes my stomach growl. As expected, there are no places to sit inside, but it’s a nice summer night so Shelby chooses a picnic table closest to the band. We order our food, and I sit next to Shelby. Ash sits across from us, right in the middle, and he might as well be sitting in my lap for how freaking close he feels. Why did I agree to come here?
He’s checked his phone twice, talked to Shelby about their brother’s slipping math grades and how pissed their mom is about it, and waved at a few guys who recognized him when we walked in. Despite what Shelby said earlier, Ash hasn’t done a single thing that I could twist into anything resembling him still having feelings for me. Nothing. Nada.
He checks his phone again. And I can’t help myself. “Girlfriend bugging you or something?” I ask, taking a long sip of my soda. “You’re glued to your phone.”
He stiffens and his eyes look right past me, just slightly. Maybe he thinks I won’t realize he’s avoiding my gaze, but after months of looking into those navy blue eyes, I know them better than he does. “Nah. I, uh…” he says. He clicks off the phon
e and goes to slide it back into his pocket. The tension in the air is thick with an awkwardness that makes my throat hurt.
I fake a laugh. “I’m just messing with you,” I lie. “I don’t care who you’re texting. Obviously you’re a busy guy.”
His expression softens a bit and he looks like he still has something to say. But then our waitress drops off the basket of fried pickles we’d ordered and the moment is gone, taken away on the trail of grease smell she leaves behind.
“So are you happy to be home?” Shelby asks, her eyes looking from her brother to me.
Ash shrugs. Shrugs. “It’s alright. I already miss my bike, though.”
“You have your old bike in the shop,” she says, dunking a pickle in ranch. “You could probably go ride it tomorrow.”
He shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be the same. That old thing isn’t nearly as performance engineered as my racing bike. It’d be like I was riding a snail around the track.”
“Well, we miss you when you’re gone,” she says, her words are clearly chosen as she says them. “We all miss you.”
Flames rise up my neck and into my cheeks, and it’s all I can do to avoid shouting, “Except for me! I don’t miss you because I’m the ex!”
“Look who’s back in town!” I look up in time to see Eric Morgan slap Ash on the shoulder. He’s wearing cargo shorts and a walking cast on his left foot, thanks to a fracture he earned at my dad’s track a couple of weeks ago. “So how’s the good life?” he asks Ash.
I reach for a pickle and notice Eric’s friends sitting a few picnic tables away. They’re all looking in our direction, but I guess Eric is the only guy even remotely fast enough on a dirt bike to feel like he can come say hi to Ash. It’s weird how Ash is a local celebrity now. I gaze off absentmindedly, eating pickles even though my stomach is still turning from being in such close proximity to him.
Someone waves at me from Eric’s table, and I snap out of my daydream haze. Lincoln is standing near an empty seat, a milkshake in his hand. He gives me a lopsided smile, and I smile back on instinct. I guess that’s all the invitation he needs because now he’s walking over here. I glance at Ash, but he’s talking to Eric and also looking at his stupid cell phone again. I bet he does have another girlfriend already.
I am so pathetic.
“Hey there.” Lincoln casts a tall shadow over me. “Mind if I sit?”
I slide closer to Shelby even though there’s plenty of room on this bench. “Be my guest.”
Ash has to have noticed Lincoln’s presence by now, but I’m too scared to look over and find out. Shelby, however, is practically staring a hole into my back. “Hey, Lincoln,” she says, leaning around me. She smiles. “What are you up to? Have you met my brother, Ash? I’m sure Hana has told you all about him.”
“I don’t think I have,” Lincoln says, flashing a smile that looks as innocent as his denial sounded. Damn, he’s good. “Hey man, I’m Lincoln.”
Ash gives him a quick head nod. “Ash.”
Luckily Eric keeps rambling on about whatever and all of the tension in the air calls a temporary truce.
“Pickles?” Shelby says, offering the basket toward Lincoln.
“Sure,” he says, taking one.
I can’t help myself. I glance at Ash. He’s looking right at me, though he’s still holding a conversation with Eric. I look back at Lincoln. “So what’s been up?”
“You mean since I saw you like, a few hours ago?” he says, popping the fried pickle in his mouth. Oh man, this is perfect. Ash actually stops talking mid-sentence. He swallows and I see his Adam’s apple bob in the corner of my vision before he stammers out a reply to Eric about Team Yamaha’s suspension work.
“Yeah, I guess,” I say, punching him in the arm. “I’m just trying to be nice, you hater.”
I’m not trying to be the kind of ex-girlfriend who tries to make her ex jealous. But with Shelby’s words hanging in the back of my mind, I have to do something to see if Ash still has any feelings at all for me.
Lincoln laughs and rubs his arm. “You’re always nice. You can afford to be mean every now and then.”
Our waitress returns with our food. She sets Lincoln’s food down in front of him as well. “Figured you’d want this here instead of over there getting cold,” she says, and he thanks her.
“Oh come on, man,” Eric says, shaking his head. “You ditched us for the girls? I see how it is.”
Lincoln grabs his burger in one hand and nods. “Sorry, man. They’re better company.”
I can practically feel the waves of anger pour off Ash, raising the temperature by ten degrees. His hands bend into fists on either side of his untouched food. He focuses on the sesame seeds on his bun. Shelby kicks me under the table. I look over at her and her eyes flick to Ash and then back, a sneaky smile spreading across her face. “Told you,” she mouths.
Behind us, the band begins to play their set. They’re a group of middle-aged country guys with big cowboy hats and tight dark jeans. The sudden smell of cigarettes fills the air as a few of their groupies shuffle up to watch from in front of the stage. Ash takes a bite of a fry and looks at his sister. “Have you changed your mind about letting me pay for college yet?”
She shakes her head. “No, Ash. I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not?” He takes another bite. “I can afford it.”
“Because, it’s your money. Mom and Dad are helping me pay for it and I have a few small scholarships plus some student aid, so I’ll be fine.”
He looks like he’s about to argue again, and I cut him off. “Student aid helps a lot,” I say, knowing that Shelby is completely opposed to taking his money for college. “But if you want to give her a college present, you can trick out our dorm room since we’ll be roommates next year.”
“I could do that,” he says, peering at me through his dreadlocked bangs. “But ya’ll better invite me to your wild dorm parties.”
Shelby snorts. “I’m sure we’ll be studying too much to party.”
“There’s always time to party,” Lincoln says. “College is like, ninety percent partying, five percent studying and ten percent sitting through boring ass classes.”
“That’s a hundred and five percent,” I say, raising an eyebrow.
He smirks. “What can I say? I’m not a math major.”
“Have you settled on a major yet, Shell?” Ash asks.
She shakes her head. “No. I’m just doing core classes for now. I’ll figure it out eventually, I’m sure.”
“What about you?”
It takes me a second to realize he’s talking to me. “What about me?”
“Did you finalize your major yet?” Ash pulls the top bun off his burger and peels off the two pickles, then puts them on my plate. The simple gesture is like muscle memory—Ash always gives me his pickles.
“I’m sticking with business administration for now,” I say, ignoring the pang that rises in my chest as I stare at the pickles on my plate. “I keep thinking about accounting, but I don’t know if I’d be any good at it. It’s a lot of math and stuff.”
“You can’t think like that,” Ash says, his eyes sparkling under the bright patio lights. On stage, the guitarist strums a country melody that sounds achingly familiar. “You’ll be good at anything you do.”
Sure I will, I think as I stare at my food. I’m good at anything except dating you.
Chapter 11
Seven months ago – November
Over the summer, I realized that Ash’s twin sister, Shelby, was the friend version of my soul mate. It was so awesome (and so necessary) to meet a new friend when I moved to Mixon to live with Dad, but I had no idea what an amazing connection we would make.
And though I loved Shelby more than any friend I’d ever had—more than my childhood best friend, Felicia—now that she had a boyfriend, she was always gone. Gone on dates, or gone at Jake’s house, or just gone. I don’t know. Whatever girls with boyfriends who lived in the same down d
id, that’s what Shelby was always doing.
After years of being the homebody homeschool girl, I’d kind of grown used to being out of the house this past summer. But everything changed in August. Ash went off to race for Team Yamaha, Shelby and Jake finally became official and started doing their own thing. (Of course, that didn’t stop her from promising to never ditch me for a guy; I guess her heart was in the right place.) Now three months had passed and the once vibrant Texas landscape had grown dirty and brown. The warm summer air was pushed out in favor of a chilly breeze. Skimpy bikinis were shed in favor of skinny jeans and knee-high boots. I used to love this time of year because Thanksgiving meant a massive meal at Grandma’s house. Even after she died, I still liked the holiday because it meant a week off from homeschooling work.
But now, even with the promise of Molly’s sure-to-be-delicious Thanksgiving meal, and a week away from my college classes, I wasn’t really feeling the warm Thanksgiving vibe around here. I was too lonely. Even in my crackerjack box of a dorm room, I had my roommate, Zooey, to hang out with, even when she annoyed the hell out of me. Her loud music and endless trail of midnight lovers were a form of company, right?
It was seven in the evening in Texas, and I was tired of doing the math to find out what time it was in whatever state was holding Ash captive from me at the moment. The fall supercross circuit took place all over the nation, usually in football stadiums, and there was a new race every Saturday night. The professional racer with the most wins at the end of the season became the champion, a coveted title that Ash was on his way to achieving.
The first couple of months of the season were exciting for me. I’d stay up and watch the race on ESPN, cheering alongside Teig, Molly, and Dad as we watched Ash race like hell in an effort to win. Although only a rookie, he’d managed to get first place three times and second or third place even more than that. It was impressive, according to the race announcers. And the magazines. And the online message boards.
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