I did, but my psycho brother wants to make sure our ‘stories’ match up.
“We’re going to Bell Canyon. It’s over near the Wasatch Boulevard neighborhood,” Ansel replies, his throat bobbing from nerves.
Poor guy.
“I know where it is. Dani mentioned you were stopping for breakfast.”
“Uh, yeah. I was going to take her to Penny Ann’s Café.”
Sage looks over Ansel’s shoulder and points a finger at me. “Get the sour cream pancakes.” His stare returns to Ansel and poor Ansel inhales a shaky breath. “You paying?”
“Yeah, I was planning on it.”
Sage smiles and I hide behind my fingers. “D?” My hands drop. “Order the peanut butter pie, too.”
“Your brother is intense.” Ansel pours half a bottle of syrup on his pancakes. He passes me the bottle when he’s finished and I add a little to my own stack of hotcakes. They smell like heaven.
“He didn’t use to be so bad,” I admit, spearing the side of my fork into my breakfast. “But he’s my guardian now, so he’s extra cautious.” Wrapping my lips around the fork I stifle a moan. “Oh my God, these are fantastic.”
I let the pancake sit on my tongue, savoring the flavor. They’re light and fluffy, like what I imagine eating a cloud would be like.
“Who knew bringing you to Penny Ann’s would earn your brother’s approval. I’m surprised he hasn’t brought you here.”
“He’s busy.”
“Works a lot?”
I chew and swallow another bite, certain I’ll be coming back here soon because I’ve never had a breakfast this good before.
“He works for a tech company and kind of keeps everything running, so he leaves early and works pretty late.”
“That’s a bummer.”
“It’s okay. I like being by myself.”
“Don’t you get lonely?” He pauses, a piece of pancake dangling from his fork.
“Sometimes.”
He frowns, shoveling the food into his mouth. Around the mouthful he says, “Well, you’ve always got me, Meadows.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m serious. Call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me.”
“Okay, Kim Possible.”
“You got the reference.” He claps. My eyes narrow when he forms his hands around his mouth. “Yo, she got the reference,” he shouts into the café, causing pretty much everyone to look at us.
“Shut up,” I plead, hating the feel of so many eyes on me.
He chuckles, brushing his hair away from his forehead since it stubbornly falls in his eyes.
“Just trying to make you laugh, Meadows.”
“Do I look like I’m laughing?” I point to my stoic face.
His smile falls. “Uh … no. Sorry.”
“I don’t like people looking at me.”
His brows furrow in confusion. “Why?”
Because I’m afraid they’ll see the pain. The hurt. The sadness. The fact that I’m broken.
“I don’t like it. Shy, I guess.”
He snorts, wiping his hands on a napkin. “You’re not shy, Meadows.”
He’s right, I’m not, but it seemed like an easier explanation.
We finish our breakfast and order a pie to share.
“I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
He slides out of the booth and I send Sasha a text, making sure she’s going to be at the trail on time. She sends me a selfie of her in gym clothes outside of her car.
Sasha: Leaving my house now! See you losers soon!
The waitress leaves the piece of pie on the table with two forks. “Here you go, sweetie. Enjoy.”
Ansel comes around the corner from the bathroom, rubbing his hands together when he spots the pie. “Prepare to have your mind blown. If you thought the hot cakes were good, you haven’t seen anything yet.” He slides into the booth in his spot across from me. Picking up his fork, he holds it out. “Cheers, Meadows.”
I clink my fork against his and dig in.
“Oh.” I cover my mouth as I chew. “This is great.”
Ansel chuckles. “I’m glad you like this. I’m a total foodie and Salt Lake has some great fucking cafés and restaurants.”
“It definitely does. I guess that’s a bonus of living in the city, there are a ton of unique eatery places.”
“This isn’t even the tip of the iceberg.”
We finish every bite of the pie, and despite my protests Ansel pays the whole bill. He doesn’t say it, but I’m pretty sure he’s paranoid my brother is going to pop out from behind a booth or potted plant and yell at him if he doesn’t.
We drive to the hiking trail, finding Sasha already waiting. She leans against her white hatchback in a black sports bra and black leggings. Her curly hair is braided down each side and a pair of small black sunglass sit on the end of her nose.
“Took you guys long enough,” she remarks as we hop out.
“How long is this trail?” I ask, squinting from the sun. I raise my hand to shield my eyes.
“Two miles to the waterfall,” Ansel replies, coming around the front of his car with a backpack strapped to his back.
“And another three from there to the reservoir, but I don’t think we’ll do that. Four miles total is enough for today.” Sasha grabs the backpack at her feet and straps it on.
I suddenly feel unprepared now that I realize I’m the only one that doesn’t have one.
“I packed sandwiches and water for when we get to the waterfall.”
“I’ve got water too.” Ansel points behind himself at his bag.
Sasha rolls her eyes behind her sunglasses. “Suck up.”
“How does bringing water make me a suck up?” he grumbles as the three of us start up the trail.
I haven’t tried anything like this since I was released from the rehabilitation clinic I was in after the hospital and I pray my leg holds up to the two mile trek up and back.
I gulp at the four-mile total distance, but decide to mentally tackle one portion at a time.
A year ago four miles would’ve been nothing. I could’ve run it without being winded. Now the idea of walking it threatens to give me a panic attack.
I do my best to silence my thoughts and focus on Ansel and Sasha’s bickering.
“You knew I was bringing lunch. It should be implied I would cover the drink portion.”
“You can never have too much water.”
“True, but now you’re carrying a backpack for no reason.”
Ansel tries not to laugh as I lag behind the two of them, my limp slowing me down. “Would you like me to turn around and put my backpack in the car?” He comes to a complete stop and I stumble, trying not to bump into him. “Whoa, sorry, Meadows.” His hand closes around my arm and he keeps me from falling on my face. “I should’ve looked behind me before I stopped.”
“S’okay,” I mutter, my cheeks heating. Not because he’s touching me, but because he shouldn’t have had to stop me from falling. When he came to a stop in front of me, I couldn’t move in time because of my stupid leg.
I look down at my leg, feeling the anger bubble inside me. I allow myself to feel that emotion for only a moment before I shut it down and focus on gratefulness instead, because I’m lucky to even walk. My leg and foot might cause me trouble, but being able to stand and take one single step is a blessing I’m thankful for.
The two of them cease their bickering and we follow the trail up.
I find my breath constantly lodged in my throat at the stunning views. It’s more beautiful than I expected. It’s becoming obvious to me why my brother fell in love with Salt Lake and never left.
Eventually we reach the waterfall. I try not to think about the fact that it takes us nearly an hour because of me, both of them slowing down until we all walked side by side, me in the middle.
The waterfall is larger than I expected, surrounded by trees beginning to turn shades of red, orange, and yellow. There’s a large
rocky outcropping and that’s where we set up our picnic, careful to avoid the slippery moss in some areas.
“This is peanut butter and jelly,” Ansel accuses, unwrapping his sandwich.
Sasha rolls her eyes, blowing a piece of loose hair from her eyes. “What did you expect? Steak and potatoes? You’re lucky you got that.”
She passes me a wrapped sandwich. “Ignore Ansel,” I tell her, glaring at him, “he eats peanut butter and jelly three times a week.”
Ansel grins at me. “Paying attention to what I eat, Meadows?”
“Only because you annoy me.”
He laughs, knowing he doesn’t annoy me, at least not anymore.
“You guys should date,” Sasha announces, chewing a bite of her sandwich. Ansel and I look at her stone-faced. “What?” She blinks innocently. “You two bicker like an old married couple already. Just make it official.”
I feel Ansel’s eyes drift to me, but I ignore his look. “We’re friends. I’m not interested in a relationship.”
Ansel clears his throat. “Why ruin a good thing?”
Sasha looks at us like we’re dumb. “Whatever you say.” I swear there’s relief in her eyes, though.
“This is beautiful.” I look around at all the trees and waterfall. I’m not sure our exact elevation, but it doesn’t matter because the views are incredible.
“There are a lot of places like this around here. I kind of get lost in my own world and forget they exist.” Ansel picks a piece of his crust off and Sasha glares at him.
“Stop ruining my masterpiece. I worked hard on that.”
Ansel looks up when he realizes she’s talking to him. “Uh…?”
“Boys,” she mutters to me. “So, incredibly dumb.”
“I’m dumb for picking crust off?” He looks genuinely offended.
“No, your species as a whole is dumb.”
“We’re from the same species, Sasha. Just different genders.”
“You sure about that?” she argues, her eyes narrowed and deadly.
If she thinks Ansel and I argue like an old married couple, I don’t know what she calls what they do.
We finish our lunch, pack everything up, and make the descent.
I hug Sasha goodbye and hop in Ansel’s car so he can drive me home.
After a thirty-minute drive, he pulls up in front of the building. For some reason I find myself reluctant to leave him, which is completely irrational and silly.
“Je te verrai demain, Meadows.”
I’ll see you tomorrow.
“Thanks for the ride.”
I slip out of his car and walk into the building toward the elevator.
Pushing the button I stand there and wait, trying to ignore the pain radiating from my left hip down my leg. I overdid it today and I’m going to pay for it. But I enjoyed myself too much to care.
The doors slide open and I’m promptly pushed to the ground by a giant brown floof. A large wet pink tongue licks my face all the way from the bottom of my chin to the top of my forehead.
“Zeppelin! Down, boy. You can’t run over strangers.” The giant dog is pulled off me and I giggle, wiping my face free of drool. “Oh, Dani, it’s you.” An easy smile transforms his face, softening his features.
“Hey, Lachlan.”
I wince.
Lachlan—you’re calling him Lachlan now?
“Sorry about Zeppelin.” I’m surprised he doesn’t correct me and tell me to call him Mr. Taylor. I breathe a sigh of relief at that. “Here, let me help you up.”
He extends his hand and I take it. Normally I would refuse, but with my left side practically numb I do need the help. Behind him the elevator has closed and the arrows lit up above it show that it’s going back up and I’ll have to wait for another.
“Don’t worry about him. I like this guy.” I pet the dog on top of his head. I still can’t get over his size. I’m five-foot-five and when he sits on his hind legs he’s nearly as tall as me.
“Still, he shouldn’t be knocking people over.” He wraps the leash around his right hand a few times. “Having a good weekend?”
“Not too bad.”
“Good.” He swallows, pressing his lips together. “Have you started the book?”
I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest. The gesture pushes my boobs together and his eyes, unbidden, drop to the swells and then away. I don’t miss the subtle tick in his jaw. I let my arms drop.
“I’m planning to start it tonight.”
“I’ll be curious to hear what you think of it.”
I smile. A book discussion with Lachlan sounds nice, despite the fact I’ll probably hate his favorite book.
Leaning around him I push the button for another elevator. “Don’t get too excited. I’ll probably rip it apart.”
His smile grows and he takes a couple of steps backward, toward the exit. “Disagreements can be healthy. Opinions are vital.”
The elevator dings and I point at the open doors. “I’ll … uh … see you.”
His blue eyes are bright, so bright they twinkle like the stars in the sky. I think I could get lost in them forever and it wouldn’t bother me.
“See you later, Dani.”
I step onto the elevator and let out a shaky breath the second they close.
Ansel told me he’d see me tomorrow and I felt nothing. No excitement, no fluttering in my belly, not a thing.
But when Lachlan said it?
I felt it all.
Chapter Fifteen
It’s the middle of the night and the lights in my bedroom are dimmed. I lay curled on my side under the covers holding onto the pages of the book like a life preserver. I can’t believe what I’m reading. My mouth is open in horror as I turn page after page, shuddering at how scarily realistic this book is to today.
I only meant to read a few chapters before attempting to go to sleep, but I know that won’t be happening. I have to know how it ends.
If I knew exactly where Lachlan lived in the building, I’d be banging on his door right about now demanding answers. But since knocking on every door on floor twelve isn’t possible I continue reading.
An hour later it’s three in the morning and I lay wide-eyed staring at the ceiling. The finished book lays on my chest, my fingers clasped overtop of it.
I feel angry, infuriated, and if I didn’t know this book was so special to him I would throw it at the wall and punch it for good measure.
There’s little to no chance I’ll get any sleep tonight, which isn’t all that unusual. I throw the covers off my body and place the book on my dresser before tiptoeing from my bedroom into the kitchen. I make myself a bowl of cereal and sit down on the couch, turning the TV on. It’s a bunch of infomercials, and since I’m not interested in buying a vacuum cleaner or a thingamajig, I end up putting a movie on.
Spooning the cereal in my mouth, I can’t seem to get rid of the ache in my chest from the novel. I’ve never read anything that’s made me feel so much. True, I’m mostly pissed off, but I know this is a book that I’ll think of for years to come.
Finishing my cereal, I clean the bowl before I lay back down on the couch, pulling the blanket over me. I keep the volume on the TV low enough that it shouldn’t wake up Sage.
By some miracle, I manage to drift off to sleep and wake up around six. I get ready for school, eat a quick breakfast of a muffin from the grocery store, and say goodbye to Sage when he leaves for work.
I place Lachlan’s copy of 1984 carefully into my backpack. It’s in rough shape so it’s not like a bent page would be my fault, but for some reason I find it necessary to treat it with reverence.
Heading downstairs, I wait for the school bus. When it arrives I hop on and walk all the way to the back, sitting down and putting my earphones in. Fire and the Flood plays by Vance Joy and I lean my head against the glass as the bus starts moving.
I probably should get a car. I got the all clear to drive after I was released from the rehabilitation center, b
ut I’ve been too scared. It’s one of those things I can’t seem to explain, the fear. It’s completely irrational, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a real thing.
After a couple more stops, the bus heads for the school.
I wait for it to clear off before I stand up, walking down the narrow aisle.
“Have a nice day,” I say to the bus driver before stepping off.
My morning passes in mind-numbing slowness. All I can think about is my everyday period with Lachlan. I itch to talk to him about the story. I can’t decide whether I enjoyed it or hated it, but I guess it doesn’t matter since it’s affected me so deeply.
“You seem distracted,” Ansel remarks, wadding up his trash from lunch and tossing it in the can a few feet away. His hands are stained with pencil from his latest project of an intricate and twisting abstract collection of shapes.
“I have a lot on my mind.” My own sketchpad is tucked into my bag, untouched today since my brain is focused elsewhere. I haven’t been using it much during lunch anyway since we’re now joined by Sasha and Seth.
“Wanna talk about it?” He holds the door open for me out into the busy hall. Sasha and Seth left out the opposite end of the library.
“No, I’m good.”
“Where are you headed? I can walk you there.” He angles his head down, waiting for my answer.
My fingers tighten around my backpack straps. “Uh … no that’s okay.”
He smiles. “I have time.”
“No, really.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “It’s way out of the way. I better hurry.”
I push through the bodies of students, leaving a confused Ansel behind.
I don’t want him and Sasha to know where I have to go every day. They’ll ask questions, questions I won’t answer, and if they happen to Google my name then they’ll find the truth staring them in the face. A truth I don’t want them, or anyone else here to know. I’m not ashamed of what happened. It was a horrible reality I’ve had to face, still have to every single day, but that doesn’t mean I want to be confronted with stares or difficult questions I don’t want to answer.
My feet pound on the stairs and I tamp down the rising panic inside me.
Ansel and Sasha have become my friends and they’re going to want to know more about me. It’s inevitable, friends typically know everything about you.
Sweet Dandelion Page 9
