Pete
It’s time to start packing up and loading the bus, even though the campers aren’t done with their activities yet. But we have to pull out around dark so we can be back to the city by midnight. I look around and hate to even think about leaving. When I go back to the city, I’ll go back to house arrest and I’ll be back with my brothers. I’ve enjoyed the freedom I’ve had here, though, and now I know what I want to work toward. I don’t know what Reagan’s schedule looks like, but I hope she’ll still want to see me when she comes back to the city.
Gonzo rolls up and stops in front of me, cutting me off on the walkway toward the barn. I’d hoped to be able to find Reagan there. I want to talk to her before we pull out. I really don’t want to leave her, but I don’t see how it can be avoided. Gonzo doesn’t grin at me for the first time since I met him. He looks almost as morose as I feel. “What’s up?” I ask.
The sky, he says, pointing toward the heavens.
“Ha ha, very funny,” I say. But he’s not laughing along. “Something bothering you?” I ask.
Just you, he says.
“Me? What did I do to bother you?” I go back to stacking chairs because it’s what we’re supposed to do before we leave. He follows me. Then I have to help all the youth boys load their bags into the bus.
You were going to leave without saying good-bye? He glares at me.
“We still have a few hours left before we leave,” I remind him, glancing at my watch. “Were you hoping I wouldn’t forget to kiss you good-bye?” I walk over to him, wrap his head up gently with my arm, and give him a noogie. He shoves my arm away. Is he really angry? “You’re serious, aren’t you? You think I would leave without saying good-bye to you?” I squat down and look him in the eye. He’s serious. Much too serious.
I thought we were pals, but you kind of disappeared for the past few days, he says.
I look toward the house. I have spent quite a bit of time with Reagan, but I haven’t left Gonzo out. I’ve made sure he had boys to talk to and hang out with. “Did you get to make some friends while you were here?” I ask. I reach into my pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper. “I was going to give this to you later, but I guess I can do it now,” I say. I hand it to him. “It’s just my phone number and my address. I hope you’ll stay in touch.”
He grins. You do love me, he signs.
Hell yeah, I love the little shit. He’s hard not to like. “Love is a pretty strong word,” I say. “Tolerate would be a better word.”
He grins. I tolerate you, too, he signs. He draws air quotes around the word tolerate. If that’s how you tell people you love them. He looks me in the eye. Thanks for everything this week. I appreciate it. And appreciate you.
“I appreciate you, too, kid,” I say. “I want you to contact me if you need me. For anything, all right?”
His eyes get all shimmery, and he signs the word yes. His mom calls his name from their cabin where she’s packing, and he turns to go help her. “Hey, Gonzo,” I call.
He looks back at me.
“You’re a good kid, and I’m glad I met you,” I say.
Yeah, yeah, he signs back. You’re going to make me think you have a crush on me. He looks past my shoulder. Speaking of crushes, he signs. Then he points and winks. See you later.
“Not if I see you first,” I shout to his retreating back. He just flips me off rather than looking back at me.
I laugh and turn around to see what he was pointing at. But it’s not Reagan. It’s her dad, and he’s bearing down on me carrying that f*cking hatchet. I cross my hands in front of my lap and step to the side. “Pete,” he says. He’s a little out of breath, and I feel like he ran here to find me.
“Mr. Caster,” I say. I look at the hatchet, and he raises it up, appraising it greedily, like he’s enjoying all my discomfort. “Everything all right?” I ask.
“F*ck no, everything is not all right,” he says. He scrubs a hand down his face. He points a finger in my face. “I’ve messed around with you all week long, and now I’m done playing.”
“I didn’t realize we were playing, sir,” I start.
He holds up a hand to stop me. “My daughter likes you a lot, and that’s the only reason I tolerated you this week.”
“Um,” I start. But he shuts me up again with a hushed breath.
He raises the hatchet, and I step to the side. “But I swear to God that if you do anything to hurt my daughter, I will chop off your head right after I chop off your nuts.”
“I wouldn’t hurt her, sir,” I say.
But he shushes me again. “When you get back to the city and there’s no dad with a hatchet waiting to emasculate you, you remember that I am just a phone call away. Do you understand?”
“Clearly,” I say.
“That’s all I wanted to say.” He heaves a deep breath and blows it out. “It was nice to meet you, Pete. Hope you have a good life if I never see you again.”
He walks away, swinging his hatchet. Shit. I wasn’t expecting that.
Phil whistles as he walks out from behind a tree. “Thought he had you there for a minute,” he breathes. He grins and shakes his head.
“Do you know what that was about?” I ask, jerking my thumb toward Mr. Caster.
“Hmm,” he hums. “Maybe.”
“Care to share?” I ask.
“He’s a dad and you’re a young man who likes his daughter. He knows it, and it smarts when a dad has to share his daughter’s affection. He has been her protector his whole life, and now she’ll start to look toward someone else to fill that role. Maybe even you.” He narrows his eyes at me. “How would you feel if it was you?” he asks. He pretends to be busy stacking chairs just like I am, but he’s astute and I know it.
“I’d be f*cking ecstatic,” I say.
“Are you going to see her when you go back to the city?” he asks. I lift my pant leg and remind him of the ankle bracelet I’m wearing. He grins. “I have a feeling that’s not going to stop her.”
“I hope not.” I take a deep breath. “I like her, Phil,” I admit. “I might even be falling in love with her.”
He stops and looks me dead in the eyes. “That scares you?” he asks.
I laugh. “Quite the opposite actually,” I admit. I feel hopeful. And it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way.
“What’s your plan when you get back, Pete?” he asks.
I pull a piece of paper out of my pocket. He told me to write my plans down. To make them real. So, I did. I start to read. “One—work things out with Sam. Two—decide what my future will be. Will it be college? Will I get a job? Will I decide what I want to be when I grow up?” I close the paper and put it back in my pocket.
“Nice,” he says, nodding his head.
“Do you think I could do what you do?” I ask. “You get to help a lot of boys.”
He nods. “I think you’d be really good at what I do.”
“I might be able to keep some boys from ending up in my situation.”
He nods. “That’s a pretty good goal to have. I’d be happy to help you decide if you want that. You could even come to work with me for a few days and see if it interests you.” He looks around camp. “Most of my work isn’t quite this glamorous, unfortunately. It’s a lot of work at the prison and the youth detention center.”
I nod. I might like that.
“You know how to reach me when you get home.”
I do. And I will. I go back to stacking chairs until I see Reagan striding in my direction. She’s smiling, and her hair is loose and blowing around her face in the wind. She brushes it back with her hand and grins at me. “Hi, Pete,” she says. She shuffles her feet and looks down nervously. “Did I just see my dad come talk to you?” she asks. “With a hatchet?”
I squeeze my lips together and try not to grin, but she’s so pretty it’s hard not to. “Your dad scares the shit out of me,” I admit.
She giggles. “I think that’s how he wants it.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Did he talk to you about me?” she asks.
I nod. “He volunteered to gleefully chop off certain parts of my anatomy.”
She looks uncomfortable. “No, I mean did he talk to you about plans for New York City?”
I shake my head. “What plans?” I stop stacking chairs and turn to face her.
She threads her fingers together and looks everywhere but at me. She looks so uncomfortable that I immediately feel bad for her. I walk closer and tip her face up to mine.
“What plans?” I ask again.
She lays her palms on my chest and looks into my eyes. “Pete,” she starts. But she stops and shakes her head, then buries her face in my shirt and groans. “I feel so stupid,” she says against my chest. I can barely hear her. I pull her against me and hold her close, lacing my fingers behind her back. I lift the tail of her shirt and lay my hands against her skin. And she lets me. This part still amazes me and makes me melt every single time I get to touch her. Finally she looks up at me. “So you’re going back to the city today.”
I nod and squeeze my eyes closed. I don’t even want to think about leaving her. But I guess there’s no way around it. “Yeah,” I say on a sigh.
“So,” she says hesitantly, tipping her face up to look into mine. Her green eyes blink at me slowly. “I was thinking about going back to the city today, too.”
My heart leaps in my chest. I grab her shoulders and set her back a little so I can look at her. “Are you f*cking serious?” I ask. I can barely breathe.
Her face falls. “You don’t want me to go,” she says quietly.
I laugh. I jerk her against me and then wrap my arms tightly around her and pick her up, spinning her around so quickly that she has to grab for my shoulders. “Of course I want you to go! Are you kidding? I’ve been so f*cking worried that I would never get to see you again or if we didn’t see one another for a few weeks, that we would lose what we have.”
“What do we have, Pete?” she asks, but she’s smiling.
“You don’t know?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I’m not always good at reading people, Pete,” she admits, blushing.
I tweak her nose and steel myself. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Reagan,” I say. I swallow hard because there’s suddenly a lump on my throat. I don’t know where it came from, and no matter how hard I swallow, it won’t go away. I wait. She has to say something, right?
“Good,” she finally says.
Good? That’s it?
“Thanks for telling me.” She grins and spins to walk in the other direction.
I grab her arm and pull her back to me, and my heart swells because she doesn’t punch me and drop-kick me or knee me in the chin when I jerk her to me and back her up against a tree. “That’s all I get?” I ask. My heart is thudding like crazy. Maybe I misread her. Maybe I’m way off base. Maybe I’m an idiot.
“What do you want?” she whispers.
I palm the side of her face and stare at her. She’s so f*cking beautiful that I can barely think when I’m this close to her. “I want you to love me back,” I admit.
“Done,” she says. A blush creeps up her cheeks, and I thought she couldn’t look any prettier than she did a minute ago. But I was wrong.
“Done?” I parrot. God, now I sound like Link.
She heaves a sigh. “Done. Gone. Don’t want to be away from you. Can’t breathe when I think about you leaving. Want to be with you all the time, gone. Done.” She blinks, and then she says, “You’re inside me, Pete. And I want to keep you there.”
F*ck. That’s the best f*cking thing I’ve ever heard in my life. And I can’t even put two thoughts together to tell her.
Suddenly, I hear boots stomping in my direction, and I spring back from on top of Reagan when I see her father striding toward us with that hatchet. He stops and glares at me. “Pete, can you do me a favor?” he asks. He doesn’t look very happy, but then he never does when he’s around me.
“What do you need, sir?” I ask.
“Reagan is determined to drive back to the city tonight, and it’ll be late when she gets there.” He jerks a thumb toward where Phil is standing. “So I asked Phil if you could ride with her instead of on the bus, in case she breaks down or something.”
Reagan grins, and I want to, too, but I force myself not to. “Phil said it’s okay?” I ask. I look toward where Phil is standing, and he walks over.
“You’d have to be in your apartment by midnight tonight,” Phil says. “I’ll know if you’re not.” He motions toward my tracking bracelet.
“I’ll take him straight home,” Reagan chirps. She’s grinning, and I want to grin with her.
“What about the youth boys?” I ask.
“You can see them the next day at group. At eleven, if you want to be there.” He arches his brow at me.
“I’ll be there,” I say. I want to see those boys. If I can help even one of them, I’ll feel better about my own past.
“Thanks, Pete,” her dad says. He claps me on the shoulder and squeezes a little too hard. I take it as a warning, which I think is how he meant it. He walks away, leaving me with Reagan.
“It’s going to be really late when you drop me off,” I say.
She nods. “I know.”
“I don’t want you to go home to an empty apartment all by yourself. I’ll send one of my brothers with you when you drop me off.” I wish I could go with her and walk her to her door and do all the gentlemanly stuff I’ve never wanted to do before.
“I’ll have Maggie with me,” she reminds me.
“Still,” I say. I brush her hair back from her ear. “Want to have a sleepover at my house?” I ask.
Her eyes widen, and she licks her lips. She’s interested. I can tell.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” I say. It’ll f*cking kill me, but I’ll do it.
She shakes her head. “I’m not going to stay if you’re going to sleep on the couch.”
My hear trips in my chest.
“I’m not going to run you out of your own bed,” she says, laughing nervously. Her eyes search mine, and I hope she doesn’t look too deeply because I’m not sure what she’ll find. “I’ll stay if you’ll sleep there with me,” she says. Her voice quivers.
“Okay,” I say quietly. But my gut is doing somersaults. She steps onto her tiptoes and kisses me quickly.
“I have to go take care of a few things,” she whispers. She kisses me again, a little slower this time. We’re going to have a sleepover. Her and her dog.
“Maggie can stay, too,” I say. I’m an idiot, but I can’t even think right now.
“I’ll tell her,” she whispers playfully. “She’s going to be so excited.”
Not nearly as excited as I am.