by Amber Garza
Our choice has blown everything up.
Cal’s upset. He still won’t talk to me. In our entire friendship we’ve never gone more than a day or so without talking unless we were on vacation, and never because we were in a fight. Years ago we made a pact that we’d never let a girl get between us, so that’s never been an issue for us. Of course, I never thought I’d fall for his sister. That’s a game changer.
On top of that, Coach is not happy with me. Not since my fight with Josh during practice. Man, I’m just lucky I didn’t get suspended or cut from the team. Even the other guys on the team are wary of me right now. And we’re all worried about the season. With so much animosity among us, we’re all concerned with how well we’ll work together on the field. In the past, our team has been much more cohesive.
But this is the last straw.
How can I continue this relationship knowing it’s hurting my mom? She’s been through so much, and things were finally looking up for her.
A knock on the door startles me. I hear the click of the door as it opens, then the sound of quiet voices talking in rapid succession. One of them is male. What is going on? Dropping my pen, it slides off the desk, landing on the floor. Shoving back my chair, I stand up, and in one large stride I’m out of my room. When I round the corner, my mouth drops open.
Mom is standing in the middle of the room being held and comforted by Mr. Easton. He’s whispering words of comfort and stroking her hair.
“What’s he doing here?” I ask, and Mom leaps away from him as if he’s on fire.
“Well…” she peers over at him, biting her lip. “I called him to tell him what’s going on.”
Mr. Easton nods, shoving his hands in the pocket of his khakis. And seriously, who wears khakis. Who is this guy?
“Why did you call him?” I’m confused.
“It was Josh who vandalized the shop,” Mom says.
“I knew it,” I mutter. Then I look at Mr. Easton, narrowing my eyes. “But that still doesn’t explain what he’s doing here.” And why he was holding you.
“I’m not pressing charges,” Mom says.
“What? Why not?” My pulse quickens.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to make him pay for the damages and clean up everything,” Mr. Easton says.
“I’m not talking to you!” I speak through gritted teeth. “Mom.” My gaze locks on hers.
“There’s more going on here than you known about.” Her tone falters.
“Josh is going through a lot right now with the divorce and everything,” Mr. Easton adds.
“Divorce?” My body goes hot.
“My wife and I split up.”
“Mom,” I repeat, although it appears to be pointless. Directing my questions to her doesn’t seem to deter Mr. Easton from chiming in. “What’s going on?”
She moves closer to Mr. Easton, and my insides churn. Oh, hell no. This is not happening. “Don’t you dare tell me you two are together.” I shake my head as if a simple shake of my head can undo this.
“We didn’t mean for it to happen,” Mom says.
“I don’t get it,” I snap. “He treated you like crap when we first moved here. His family practically ran you out of town.”
“That was a long time ago. He was angry.” I can’t believe she’s defending him.
“Listen,” Mr. Easton says. “I know this is confusing. But your mom and I were very much in love. We were high school sweethearts.”
“I know all this.” I groan. “I know the whole stupid story. Maise told me years ago about how you and Mom were engaged when she went away to college. And how she had an affair with her professor and that’s how she got pregnant with me. I also know that when you found out, you broke up with her and spread rumors about her all over town.”
“I was young, and I was hurt,” Mr. Easton says.
“She had no one. My dad abandoned her, you abandoned her. She was left alone with no one in the world.”
“I wasn’t alone.” Mom gives me a pointed look. “I had you.”
I know she means it as a compliment, but it doesn’t feel that way. It never has. I’m the reason my mom’s life blew up. Rationally I know it was because of her choice, but my existence was the catalyst. If she had never gotten pregnant, she could have chosen whether or not to tell people about my dad. However, once I came into the picture, she had no choice.
“I made a lot of mistakes back then,” Mr. Easton continues. “The biggest one was running right into another relationship.”
“But you got married, had a family,” I point out.
“Yeah, but I also never stopped loving your mom,” he says. “It’s ultimately why my marriage failed.”
“Dan and I have known each other since we were kids. We’ve loved each other almost our entire lives. Love like that doesn’t just go away, no matter how much you try to keep it buried.”
“But then why not stay together in the first place?” I look pointedly at Mr. Easton.
“I almost did stay with her,” Mr. Easton confesses. “The summer your mom was pregnant with you she came home. I was already with Heather, but I went to see your mom. Told her I still loved her, but I just wasn’t sure I could get past the betrayal. We were trying to work through some issues when Heather found out. And that’s when the harassment really started. Heather spread all kinds of rumors about your mom, and since the town already knew about the affair, they believed them. Only your mom thought I was the one spreading the rumors. Honestly, I didn’t even know it was Heather spreading them at the time. I didn’t find out until years later, and that’s when my marriage really began falling apart.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, ultimately your mom was so hurt by the way the town treated her that she left. Went back to Sacramento, told me she wanted nothing to do with me or anyone in Prairie Creek.” He glances at my mom, an apology in his eyes. “I never should’ve let you go. I should’ve fought harder. I guess I was just so hurt, so angry. And it was easier for me to hate you than it was for me to love you. It was a mistake. One I’ve paid for ever since”
“I know,” Mom says softly. Then she turns her gaze toward me. “I understand why Heather and Josh have been so angry, and I’m sorry I didn’t explain it sooner. But Dan and I needed to work through our issues alone. We needed to make sure we were ready to commit to each other for good this time.”
I feel sick. “I can’t listen to this anymore.” Anger pulsates through my veins, and there’s no running from it. I’m so mad, I’m shaking.
“Chris, don’t do anything stupid,” she warns. “I heard about practice this week.”
A bitter laugh escapes through my lips, and I shake my head. Is she for real?
“What are you gonna do?” She presses.
“None of your damn business,” I snap. If she’s going to keep things from me, then I can do the same. “God, it’s bad enough that you kept this from me, but you also lied.”
Confusion fills her eyes.
Really? “When I caught you with him at the store, remember? You told me he was just there buying something for his mom.”
She sighs. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready to tell you. I know you’d act like this.”
Screw her. Screw him. Screw it all. Storming back down the hallway, I race into my room, snatch up my keys and jacket. Then I tear out of the house. Mom is hollering, begging me to come back, but I ignore her. After slamming the door shut, I hurry down the walkway.
I almost jump in my car, but then think better of it. I’m too angry to drive. A walk is exactly what I need. I need time to myself to clear my head. Besides, my adrenaline is pumping through me at such a rapid rate, I could stand to work off some of the extra energy. Cold air stings my skin, so I shove my sleeves into my jacket and pull it tight around my body. With clipped strides I make my way down the street. Darkness circles me, and I welcome it.
I pass houses, lights glowing from their windows, and I find my thoughts drifting again to my dad. When I was younger I used to fantasize
about what it would be like if he was in my life. Would he read to me at night? Would he join Mom and me when we played games? Would he play catch with me in the yard? Would he attend my baseball games?
But as I got older, I realized how pointless it was to think about it. Imagining it didn’t change things. My dad has never wanted anything to do with me, and no amount of wishful thinking will change that.
I shove my hands into the pockets of my jacket and keep walking. When I set out, I didn’t have a destination in mind. However, when I arrive at Mom’s shop it seems like the likely place to end up. The word WHORE is painted in bold red letters across the window. I blow out a breath, my stomach clenching.
Josh is such an ass.
Before I found out about Mom and Mr. Easton dating again, I would’ve assumed this was meant to get at me. However, now I know better. This is a targeted attack on my mom. This is his twisted way of protecting his family. Of honoring his own mom. It doesn’t make it any better though. I still want to drive my fist through his face again.
I’ve never truly understood Josh’s hatred toward my mom until tonight though. Now I see the truth. I see the torch Dan has carried for years. But when I was a kid I didn’t know that. Josh never went to school with us, but I ran into him and his mom in the park a couple of times when I was little. I’ll never forget the rude way Mrs. Easton behaved toward my mom; the way she glared and whispered.
But it was Josh’s words that hurt. The way he taunted me in the playground, calling my mom names. The words stayed with me, as well as the venom behind them. He was only a child, but he had so much anger, so much hatred. And ever since that day I hated him back. However, the only people I ever shared the details of that day with was Emmy and Cal. That’s why they’ve always understood my feelings for Josh.
It’s one of the reasons it bothered me so much when Emmy got together with him. But every time I pressed her about it she said it was so long ago it didn’t matter now. She argued that we had been children then and we both had changed. Truth is, her words made sense. Only now I see that Josh never did change.
Until tonight I could never figure out why Josh was so mean about my mom. Even once I knew the whole story it didn’t make sense. I mean, if it weren’t for the affair, Heather and Dan never would’ve gotten together and Josh never would’ve been born. Honestly, I’ve always felt like Josh should be thanking my mom, not mocking her.
But now I get it. Still, it doesn’t change what he’s done. It doesn’t change the way he’s hurt my family.
Shaking my head, anger rises in me. I can’t believe Mom isn’t pressing charges. As if cleaning up this mess is really going to be enough of a punishment. Has Mr. Easton brainwashed her or something? It’s crazy.
“Christian?” A familiar voice calls out into the quiet night.
When I whirl around, Tim stands in front of me. I glance over his shoulder to see his car idling near the curb. I’d been so focused on my thoughts, I hadn’t heard him pull up.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Your mom called. She’s worried about you.”
I snort. “She should’ve thought about that before she started seeing that jerk again.”
Tim’s eyes soften around the edges, the lines crinkling. “I know this is tough for you, Chris.”
His words chink away at some of the hardness around my heart. Tim has always been there for me. He’s the closest thing I have to a dad. Many times over the years, I’ve wished he was my dad.
“Come on. Let’s get outta here.” Tim’s gaze flickers to the shop, and he frowns.
“I don’t wanna go back home yet.” The thought of facing my mom right now turns my stomach.
“You can come back to our house. One of us can drive you home when you’re ready,” Tim says.
I pause, running a hand over my head. Wind whips into my face, and I shiver. At this point I don’t have a better offer, and I have no desire to stay out here in the cold any longer, so I nod. “Okay.” Ducking my head, I follow Tim to his car.
It’s not until I enter the Fishers’ house and spot Cal sitting on the couch wearing an unreadable expression that I realize this may have been a mistake. With everything going on with my mom tonight, I had forgotten about the fight between Cal and me.
“Chris, honey, I’m so sorry.” Maise wraps me in a hug, and I stiffen, my skin crawling. Physical touch is not what I want right now. If anything, I want space. “Are you okay?”
“Let the boy breathe,” Tim instructs his wife.
She releases me with a huff.
When I glance up, the air leaves me. Emmy stands behind her mom, staring at me with those wide eyes of hers. A minute ago I wanted to be left alone, but now I am desperate to be touched, to be held. But only by one person.
“Em,” I breathe out her name like a prayer. Stepping around Maise, my gaze locks on Emmy’s. I hold my arms out, desperate to grab onto her. But when I reach her, I stop short, dropping my arms to my sides. What am I doing? Cal shake his head and then leaves the room. My shoulders slump. Emmy lowers her head, looking defeated.
Tim coughs, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“I’m going to go call your mom and let her know you’re okay, Chris.” She pats my shoulder, and then she and Tim leave the family room.
Emmy’s gaze follows them and then returns to me. She frowns. “It’s never gonna work between us, is it?”
“It doesn’t look like it,” I admit.
She nods, sadness filling her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” I have no idea what else to say. “I didn’t know we’d be hurting so many people.”
She nods. “I get it. I kind of expected this, actually. I mean, Cal’s never gonna come around, and you’re getting in trouble with your coach. Besides, I heard what’s going on with your mom, so I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.”
My heart squeezes, reality slamming into me. Is it really over? It hasn’t even started yet. But it’s probably for the best. I’ll never be able to give Emmy what she needs anyway. Everyone knows I’m damaged goods. “I didn’t want it to end like this. Hell, I didn’t want it to end at all.”
“Me either,” she says softly.
I snatch both of her hands up, intertwining our fingers. Man, I want to hold onto her forever. “This was never just fun for me. You know that, right?”
Giggling, her eyes meet mine. “You’re saying it wasn’t fun?”
“No, it was definitely fun, but it meant something to me too.”
“I know.”
“And I meant what I said. You can always count on me.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Do you think we’ll really be able to go back to being just friends now?”
“I think it’s gonna be hard. Damn hard. But we’ll have to. I mean, what’s the alternative? Not being in each other’s lives? I can’t do that. I can’t cut you out of my life.”
“I can’t cut you out either.” Her eyes are filled with pain, and I feel like a jackass for beginning something with her that I can’t finish.
“Do you regret it?”
“I regret that it didn’t work out, but no.” She smiles. “I’ll never regret kissing you, because it was pretty great.”
“Really? Just ‘pretty great’, huh?” I joke.
She shrugs. “Yeah, you know. It was okay.”
“Okay?” I move in closer. “I think I need to upgrade your opinion of my kissing skills.” It’s stupid. I know that. The minute my lips line up to hers, I know I’m making a mistake. But the thought of never kissing her again is tearing me up inside. Doesn’t everyone deserve one last kiss? Well, then this is ours.
And I’m going to make it a good one.
EMMY
His thumb grazes my cheek, and I shiver. Leaning down, his lips hover mine, and my pulse jumpstarts. Licking my lips, I will my heart to slow, but I know it won’t. Not when he’s this close. Not when he’s about to kiss me. And definitely not when I w
ant him so much. When his other hand curves around my neck, I reach out and slide my palms up his chest. My gaze never leaves his, and I see desperation dancing in his irises. I see need, I see desire.
His top lip brushes mine. He exerts the smallest amount of pressure and then draws back. His fingers tangle in my hair, and he gently pulls me forward. This time both his top and bottom lip press down. I memorize the way his lips feel on mine. With my eyes closed, I’m like a blind person reading braille. I block out all other sounds and movements, focusing only on Christian’s hands. On his touch. On his kiss.
If this is all I get, I don’t want to ever forget it.
Our other kisses were faster, as if we were following the beat to a hip hop song. This one is like a slow dance. Like we are being led by a long, drawn out ballad. He’s taking his time, and I’m grateful. It starts off soft, like the kiss of an ocean breeze. His lips are light and airy, fanning over mine. I bunch my fingers in his shirt, holding on tightly. As his tongue licks out trailing my lips, I open my mouth. When his tongue slides over mine, a soft moan sounds at the back of my throat.
He growls in response, deepening the kiss. My head swirls, and I fight to stay upright. I circle my arms around his neck, my fingertips playing with the edges of his hair.
When he releases me, I want to cry out. I want to draw him back.
But I don’t. I slip my arms from his shoulders, and I let him go.
CHRISTIAN
When our lips disconnect, I’m not sure what I had hoped to accomplish. If I was hoping it would satisfy me, I was wrong. All it’s done it is make me want her even more. And I can tell she feels the same way by her heavily lidded eyes and content expression. Not that I blame her. The two of us together is electric. Kissing Emmy is nothing like kissing other girls. It’s nothing like anything I’ve ever experienced. Before now, the biggest rush in my life is the feeling I get during a game. When the ball hits my glove, it’s like a natural high. But this is even better than that. This is like flying in the clouds, soaring above everything. I’ve never done drugs, but I imagine that being high is a little like this. Like kissing Emmy.
