“What?”
His gray-blue eyes lock with mine. “I really want to kiss you right now. For real this time.”
“And what was it last time?”
“A dream.” Kale takes a step toward me. He’s close now, barely inches away.
“Maybe you should, then.” The words are out of my mouth before I can so much as register what I’ve said. And I don’t regret them.
When Kale leans in and kisses me, I wonder if it will feel like this every time. So new and so horribly addicting. My fingers find the bottom of his T-shirt and slip underneath, softly trailing over his skin where it dips in along his spine. His kiss deepens, his fingers sliding through my hair. I want to pull him in closer to me, to feel every inch of his back and every muscle flexing beneath.
Kale breaks away and gives me a one-sided smile, showing his dimple. “It’s dangerous for me to be alone with you.”
“I could say the same thing.”
The front door slams shut. Kale steps away and leans against the opposite counter. I dig my hands into my pockets as Uncle Jasper walks into the kitchen. The memory of Kale’s skin is still fresh, probably making my cheeks redder than they should be.
“You back already?” I ask.
“No, I forgot my wallet.” He grabs it from the table and nods to Kale. “You get your hair cut?”
“Yeah, Harper just did it for me.”
My uncle eyes the clippings of hair still on the floor and looks up at me. “Huh. Maybe I’ll have you do mine later.” He sticks his wallet in his back pocket and walks out. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he yells as the front door shuts behind him.
Kale and I glance at each other, and I have to hold back a laugh. I still can’t believe what happened. When we kissed down at the river, it felt secret and something neither of us would ever talk about. But here in the kitchen, where we’ve spent countless hours eating, playing board games, and making fun of Uncle Jasper’s bad jokes, it’s more real than ever.
It really happened.
I push myself away from the counter and grab the broom to sweep up the hair on the floor. I need to do something to distract myself. “Did you call Miles about last night?” I ask.
“I called him this morning,” he says. “I told him something came up and we couldn’t stay the whole time.”
“I’m sorry you weren’t able to see him for very long.” I dump the hair in the trash and push the chair back under the table.
“It’s all right. I see him almost every week as it is, and hopefully it’ll stay that way when school starts.” Kale laughs to himself. “I’m sounding more like you every day.”
“And what’s that mean?”
“More optimistic.”
“There’s nothing wrong with hoping for the best.” I don’t want to admit it, but it’s the only way I could get over what happened with Mom—hoping everything would turn out for the better. And so far, it has.
At least I think so.
Kale shrugs. “Sometimes there is when nothing turns out the way you want it to. There’s less disappointment.”
“Then what are you?” I ask, not wanting to argue with him.
“A realist,” he says. “Things are the way they are, and always will be. I think I know that to be true more than anyone.”
I can’t argue that point because it is true. Kale knows firsthand that the past is what it is. I just wish he would look to the future as something more hopeful. But for him, it’s something that’s not.
“Have you ever tried to control it?” I ask. “Leaving, I mean.”
Kale shifts his weight uncomfortably. “I’ve tried and I can’t. When the time comes, it’s too hard to stay.”
“But you did last night,” I counter.
“No, I delayed it. It’s not something I can control.”
“Maybe. But you stopped it this time, and maybe you can stop it again.”
“Harper, it’s impossible for me not to leave. It’s a part of who I am. It’s like telling Jayne from Firefly he can’t ever touch a gun again,” he says, smiling. It’s short lived, and he shakes his head. “Sometimes I wish it wasn’t, but it’s the way it is.”
I could never imagine him being someone other than he is now. His bittersweet faults are what make him Kale. But I wish they wouldn’t cause him so much trouble.
“When you were younger, you only left once or twice a month,” I point out. “If it was possible then, maybe it’s possible now. Think about it, Kale. If you didn’t leave so often, you could go to school, and maybe even get a job. You could—”
“—be normal?” His tone is hard. “I’ll never be what you call normal. I couldn’t even finish school, so how am I supposed to find a job? At this point, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to move out when I’m old enough.”
Kale takes a deep breath and stares out the far kitchen window. “Sometimes I think I don’t belong here.”
My heart flinches at hearing that. But the more I think about it, the more I know it isn’t true. The truth behind Kale leaving so often has been right in front of me this whole time, and I haven’t seen it before now, because I haven’t wanted to see it.
I stand up a little straighter and uncross my arms. “No, you’re just afraid to belong here.”
Kale’s eyes snap to mine. “What?”
“That’s why you’ve been leaving so often. It’s because you don’t want to be here. Things aren’t good between you and your dad and you feel like you don’t have a purpose here. I get it, okay? I get being alone and not having a good relationship with a parent. But whether you want to believe it or not, you do belong here.”
Kale throws up his arms half-heartedly. “Then tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix this.” But he knows I don’t have answers. “I want to try telling my dad again, it’s just a lot harder when he doesn’t believe me.”
“So make him believe you.”
“It’s not so easy. I’ve always thought about traveling in front of him because it worked so well with Miles, but I want him to believe me. Not just believe what he sees. Is that so hard to ask?”
“I don’t know … but once it happens, I think you’ll find yourself staying here more often.”
He just nods, and I have that urge to close the distance between us, but his mind is on other things now.
Kale takes a step toward the door. “I should get home.” In other words, he wants to be alone.
Before he disappears out the door, I ask, “Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” He hesitates. “If you’re still here …”
Kale nods. “Sure. I’ll see you later.”
After his footsteps disappear off the porch, I slide down to the floor and sit there, unable to think of anything except Kale and wondering when I’ll see him next.
27.
Kale
As I walk home, every step becomes harder than the last. Getting closer to having to face the truth. Maybe I’ve known all along and only now started to believe it, but Harper is right.