CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Chloe
The squeal of my hand brake made everyone turn and look. The yelling and laughter stopped, and the smile on Blake’s face faltered for a second. He quit skating and held the basketball under his arm, then did that flick thing with the skateboard to hold it upright. The kids tried to copy him and failed.
“Hey, hon.” Mary waved from the swing seat as I got out of my car.
I waved back before making my way over to Blake. “What are you doing here?”
Sammy answered for him. “He’s playing skateball. You wanna play?”
I looked down at him. “No, I’m good, thank you.” Then to Blake, I asked, “So?”
His shoulders sagged. He released the ball, letting it bounce away. No one bothered to chase it. “I can leave. I’m sorry,” he said quietly, looking down at the ground.
He got only a few steps before Sammy grabbed his arm, pulling down on it in an effort to stop him from going any farther. His helmet fell forward and covered his eyes, but he adjusted it quickly and said, “No. Stay, please. If she doesn’t want you here, she can leave.”
Silence.
My voice came out hoarse. “It’s fine.” I smiled at Sammy, then faced Blake. “You can stay.” I turned quickly and walked toward Mary, too afraid to witness his reaction.
I tried to listen while Mary chatted, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Blake. I watched the way he moved on the board . . . The way he’d stop to help the kid . . . The way he ran to Sammy the second he fell off the board to inspect his scraped knee . . . The way he laughed and joked with Dean . . . The way he winked at me and nodded once, as if thanking me for letting him be there.
And I knew it then. He was absolutely everything I had never let myself dream of having.
“Dean! Amy has little-league practice,” Mary shouted.
Dean looked at his watch and grumbled.
“It’s okay.” I stood up. “I’ll take her, Dean. You keep playing.”
Amy ran up the steps to get her gear while I walked over to Blake. “Are you going to be here when I get back?”
He looked at his watch and frowned. “I have to leave in an hour to watch Tommy.”
“Okay.”
He grabbed my arm and gently pulled me closer to him and looked in my eyes. “Are we good?”
“I don’t know yet,” I told him truthfully. “Maybe.”
He let out a breath. “Maybe’s good enough.”
Blake
Skateball was exactly what the name implied. Basketball on skateboards. Josh and I had made up the game when we were ten, combining two of our favorite things. We’d thought we were so smart. We’d even talked about how much money we could make as pro skateballers.
I stood in Mary and Dean’s kitchen, laughing to myself as I turned on the tap to fill Sammy’s water bottle.
“Do you have any of your own brothers or sisters, Blake?” Mary said from behind me.
I tensed at her question, wondering why she would ask something like that. And then it dawned on me—I’d been buying them gifts, showing up unannounced, hanging out with them for no real reason. Of course, I was overstaying my welcome. I shook my head. “No. I’m sorry. I’ll go now.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. Stay as long as you want.” She pulled a container of ice cubes out of the freezer and proceeded to drop a couple in each of the water bottles. “It’s just that you’re very good with them, is all.”
“Oh. Thanks, I guess.”
“Did something happen between you and Chloe?”
I tensed. I had known the moment was coming, but I didn’t know whether it would be with her or Dean, and honestly, I didn’t know which one I’d prefer.
I couldn’t lie. “Yes, ma’am.”
“The last time you were here for dinner? When you went up to her room . . . something happened?”
“Yes, ma’am.” But then I paused, thinking about how that had sounded. “No. I mean—we didn’t sleep together . . .”
“Okay . . . That’s not really my business, though. What is my business is the fact that she locked herself in her room and cried most of the night.”
I gripped the edge of the sink and let my head fall forward. “Shit.”
“It’s probably not your fault, Blake.”
“To be honest, I still don’t really know what happened. I thought things were going well—and then she kind of just shut down.”
It was silent for a moment before Mary finally sighed. “How long have you known Chloe?”
“Not long.” I raised my head and stared out the window above the sink. It was the first time I’d noticed that they had a backyard. But it was overgrown. Unusable.
“So you haven’t known her long . . . but she means something to you, right? I mean that’s why you’re here?” It came out as a question, but she wasn’t asking. Not really. “Chloe—she’s built walls around herself—ones that it took Dean and me years to break past. It hasn’t been easy. But you, Blake . . . I don’t know . . .”
I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet. She continued, “She’s never invited anyone to the house before. It was kind of a big deal that you were here.”
I turned to her now, surprise clear on my face.
She nodded. “Yeah. You’re her first real friend. That’s what I’m assuming you are—friends?”
It was my turn to nod.
“Good. That’s good . . .” I could see the contemplation on her face; she was planning her next words carefully. “Chloe’s mom died when she was five. Breast cancer.”
Even though I knew that her mom had passed, I didn’t know how. I tensed and waited for the pounding in my chest to settle.
“When her mom passed away, she went to live with her Aunt Tilly. They were twins, her mom and her aunt. Her dad was never around. He bailed after finding out about the pregnancy. Tilly didn’t have kids of her own, so it was perfect . . . for a while. But then a few years later, she passed away, too. Same disease.”
I swallowed down the lump in my throat as I tried to picture Chloe. Her life. Everything that she had had to go through.
“So by the time she came to live with us, death was no stranger to her. After a couple of years, neither was cancer. She got obsessed. Fixated with it. She spent all her time reading books, searching online, learning everything possible about it.” She stopped to clear her throat; her voice came out shaky as she added, “She was withdrawn, not just from us but from the other kids here and at school. Then one day, she came home with a huge smile on her face. Something in her switched over that day. She announced to Dean and me during dinner that night that she was over it. She said that she was going to live her life to the fullest, take in the world and everything it had to offer. We thought it was great.” She sniffed and wiped the tears that were falling too fast. “But then she said that when she died of cancer, she didn’t want to leave anyone behind. She actually said, ‘You are not allowed to love me. No one can.’”
I turned and leaned against the counter behind me. I needed something to hold me up.
“Can you imagine, Blake? She couldn’t have been more than eleven at the time. And she’d decided that cancer was her future. And the saddest part is that she didn’t let that part ruin her. She was scared for the people around her.”
I rubbed my eyes, trying to hide the fact that I was close to tears. Then I cleared my throat. “So that’s why she’s . . .”
“Invisible?” Mary nodded slowly. “She’s good at what she set out to do . . . experiencing the world and all that. She never takes anything for granted. But she does it alone, and it’s sad, because she’s so easy to love.”
I nodded. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because I knew she was right, that falling in love with Chloe would be effortless.
“I’m sorry,” she sniffed. “I’m a mess. I just love her. And I want the best for her. So if that’s having you in her life, I’m going to support you, and you’ll always be welcome here. But if you cause her pain, if you’re the reason she’s in her room crying at night, then I guess . . .” She trailed off. She didn’t need to finish her sentence. I knew what she meant.
“Anyway . . .” She perked up and inhaled deeply. “Let’s see who ends up the champion of basketskate!”
“Skateball,” I said and attempted a smile.