Some things just weren’t real: Santa, parents who really loved each other, my future with Caleb.
He picked up both braided pieces, which I’d left untied, and fisted the one with more gold. “I want this one. It reminds me of you.”
And then he raised my left arm and tied the mostly blue one around my wrist. He left it loose enough that I could’ve inched it over my hand, but I didn’t. I slid it farther up, until it got stuck on my forearm. I didn’t want to lose it so quickly.
“Now me,” he said, shoving his bracelet at me.
I tied it with clumsy fingers, as loose as he had made mine. Who knew when these things would fall off? I suddenly wished I had made them out of steel.
“Kiss me, Wolfe,” he said. “Make it official.”
I leaned in, my hand on his wrist and my gaze on his mouth.
Our lips touched, just the barest of brushes. We both pulled back and stared at each other for a moment.
Then Caleb lifted my hand. “Wow. So this is what marriage feels like.”
I shook my head. “I don’t feel…”
And then it hit me.
The bond. We’d be linked, him and me, by our wrists and our lips, forever. I wasn’t mad about it. I was selfishly glad that he was mine.
Mine and no one else’s. I’d fight them, and he would come back to me. Because: marriage. Even if Mom and Dad’s marriage sucked, and Caleb’s parents’ marriage was rocky, sometimes fiction and real life could be the same.
We’d be the happy couple when we got into our older years. Twenties, thirties, forties. Hell, he’d probably love me through gray hair and wrinkles. I knew it, and judging from the look in his eye, he knew it, too.
And then, two years later, our lives imploded.
14
Caleb
I meet the guys at Liam’s place. They evacuated my house shortly after I dragged Margo out. I slink into the kitchen and grab a beer, and go find them in Liam’s game room.
“That was fun,” Theo grunts from his chair.
It’s directed at me, I know. He keeps his eyes on the racing game they’re playing.
I drop into the chair next to him. It’s best that, for now, I stay the hell away from Liam. He’s on the opposite side of the couch, next to Eli. They look over at me and raise their eyebrows, but all I can do is scowl at them.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Liam shrugs. “Fine.”
“I just said—”
“He didn’t ask you a fucking question, man,” Eli snaps. “If you want to be a pisser and sulk in the corner, fine. We’ll leave you the fuck alone.”
“Fine,” I growl. I pick up the extra control and opt into Theo’s next game. Video games won’t release the tension I feel. The anger swirls like a fucking hurricane in my chest.
After about ten minutes, I say, “You never knew her.”
They exchange glances. “She left right before you transferred in, Eli.”
His family moved here when we were eleven. I was an angry son of a bitch then, but no worse than I am now. Eh, no, probably less angry then.
It’s grown under my skin in the years since.
“Okay,” Eli says. “We do know this part of the story. The whole school’s been talking about it.”
I’ve kept this under wraps for a reason. It’s personal shit. But I’ve got to say something to stop their squawking. “Yeah, but you don’t know my side. We weren’t just acquaintances. She didn’t just live with her family in our guest house. She was family. She was my best friend.”
“And then all the drama with her family?” That comes from Liam.
“Something like that.” I jerk the controller, smashing Theo’s character out of the way.
I don’t feel anything when I win—except for Theo’s elbow jabbed into my ribs.
“So why do you hate her?”
I drop the controller on the counter and lean back, taking a long swallow of beer. I’ll need six more of these before I share any more secrets about her. And how she’s still getting under my skin after all these years.
“Did you see who’s playing next week?” Eli asks, thankfully changing the subject. “Lion’s Head.”
“Oh, shit.” I laugh. “Liam, you ready to get your ass whipped?”
Liam crosses his arms. “They’re not that good.”
“They’re first in the fucking league,” I say. “Makes me glad I don’t play football. We don’t have to deal with the embarrassment of coming in second place in lacrosse.”
“Yeah, you talk a big game, Asher,” Theo replies.
“It’s because he doesn’t like to wear tights,” Eli cuts in. “And I, for one, totally agree. Cheers.” He leans over Theo and taps his beer bottle against mine.
Theo scowls at us. “You’re immature.”
“You’re the one wearing tights,” Eli mutters.
“We can take this outside.”
I grab Theo’s arm, and he falls back in his seat. “Something got you in a twist, Theo?”
“No.”
“Uh-huh.” Liam rolls his eyes. “You’re the worst liar.”
“That girl goes to Lion’s Head.” Theo’s eyes are practically black. “And she’s going to fucking show up at the game, and—”
“And nothing,” I say, patting his shoulder. “You’re worrying too much.”
Anger rolls off him. “If I see her, I’m going to fucking kill her.”
I grunt. “Okay, well, that’s not good. Anyone want to go find something better to do than hang around here?”
Liam hops up. “There’s that party tonight at Ian’s house.”
“Great. Come on.” I haul Theo up, pushing him ahead of me. He’s the silent but deadly type. Honestly? I’d feel sorry for the girl he wants to kill—if she steps foot in his way, that is.
Anger can be good from a distance. It’ll make him a better football player, and any skills he learns on that field we can use for lacrosse.
The doorbell rings as we’re piled in the kitchen, raiding Liam’s snack pantry.
Through a mouthful of food, Eli says, “I’ll get it.”