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“Dacen.” My fingers absentmindedly tap against the counter. “Evie.” “You totally have the hots for Ryne Sutton.”
I want to laugh but I also want to live so I hold it in.
He makes the silent treatment seem overly chatty in comparison with what I get from him over the next few days. I might as well be invisible.
“You don’t want me to be attracted to you, Becker.” His words startle me and the intensity pouring from him washes over me like the tide coming in, invading every nook and crevice within me. With his next words, he sucks me back out to sea with him, his gravitational pull is that strong. “I’d eat you alive.”
I pull my truck back into the high school parking lot, in a space next to Tyler’s Jeep. Evan scrambles out of the way. He’d been saving the spot by sitting in the middle of it in a lawn chair. I call out my open window, “Dude, you gotta stop doing that. You’re gonna get plowed into one of these days.”
Evan, who’d been digging around behind the driver’s seat, pops his head out. “He’s around somewhere.” “What are you looking for?” “Last time I was in your truck I threw a bag of pretzels back here.” He sticks his head back inside and continues to search.
Evan finishes chewing and sets the bag next to me. “Guard this with your life. I’ll be back in a few.”
“I still don’t get what your issue is with him, the whole ‘he left in the middle of a game’ thing.” Roman uses air quotes. “It doesn’t make sense. I left in the middle of a game of laser tag in seventh grade and yet here we are, still best assholes.”
“Ty, we can play again. It’s fine. It’s just a game.” “Says the guy who shoved one of his best friends to get to the finish line first in fifth grade and scarred him for life.” They will never let me live that down. So I’d gotten a little extra aggressive wanting to win and Evan ended up needing a few stitches on his wrist because he landed on a jagged piece of broken brick. So sue me. I didn’t put the brick there.
yikes
He stares at me like I’m juggling soccer balls while wearing a pig costume.
I know he doesn’t ask for it and certainly doesn’t want it, but at this moment a little piece of my heart breaks free and skips precariously close to Ryne’s open hand as he draws it back to his side.
The most that has happened today in the way of research at this desk was when I read some of the names scratched into its surface by the students of years past. These desks are about as old as the lockers so there’s quite a bit of reading material there.
Ryne is sex on a stick, and it just so happens one of my favorite games growing up was pick-up sticks.
that’s a weird fucking game to like as a kid but whatever floats your boat
“It should be illegal in all fifty states for you to smile with those dimples. They’re major assault weapons.” Ryne turns toward me again and this time when he reaches a hand out he doesn’t pull away. The backs of his fingers brush along my cheek. “These things could easily bring a guy to his knees.”
then I get a text back from Ryne, about halfway through chemistry. You’re welcome. He included a taco emoji and a sock emoji. And I can’t stop smiling.
It’s official, you do not hate nature. Which is a good thing, because there’s a snake on that rock.” I freeze for a second and then laugh. “Yeah, right, sure there is. And Bigfoot is standing behind you.” Ryne raises his eyebrows and inclines his head to my right. I peer over and freeze again. Sure enough, there’s a snake. A snake on the rock. With me. I think I might pass out. I can’t move or even breathe now that I’ve seen it.
While Ryne walks over toward a wooden railing, I scrutinize the photo. Oh yeah, that one’s definitely a keeper. I smile and shut off the screen. The photo itself is a keeper too.
ME: What are you doing? A few minutes later he responds. DACEN: Alphabetizing my books. The pantry’s next. You? I snort and shake my head with a chuckle. Alphabetizing the pantry? Seriously? He is so weird.
DACEN: Me too. I could organize your closet, put your clothes in ROY G BIV order. ME: No idea what that means. DACEN: You’d have the second most organized and aesthetically pleasing closet of the entire soccer team. ME: Because THAT’S my dream. DACEN: I KNEW IT!
DACEN: So basically you want me to come over and entertain you like some kind of court jester because you’re bored, and I don’t even earn clearance. Rude. You can forget about ROY G BIV. ME: I don’t know who the fuck Roy is,
“i don’t know who the fuck roy is” LMAO DEAD
“Lily?” She turns and smiles at me. “Yeah, sweetie?” “Do we have stuff to make tacos for lunch today?” She thinks for a moment and nods. “We do.” “Any chance you’d be able to make some later?” I rub the back of my neck and shuffle one foot against the floor. “Dacen is coming over and he likes them.” I kind of mumble the last sentence but they get the gist of it because Rylee giggles and Lily’s face breaks out into a wide grin. She wipes her hands and comes to stand in front of me.
that’s so cute
“I asked Lily to make tacos for lunch specifically because you were coming over. And yes, you made me laugh earlier with the whole alphabetizing thing.” When Dacen beams at me, I reach over and brush the backs of my fingers over one of his dimples, because that’s the only way I know how to say the things that are trying to take shape in my head.
RYNE: You awake? Rolling over onto my back, properly with my head against the pillows this time, I smile. ME: No, I’m sleep texting.
“I want everything with you.”
“It smells good in here, Mom. Did you bake those?” Dacen gestures toward the cookies. His mom’s eyebrows furrow. “Yes, sweetie. Did you think the magic cookie elves summoned them onto the counter or something?”
His eyes are closed when he raises his head again but that doesn’t hide the tear that slips down his cheek. I can’t fucking breathe. “Goodbye, Ryne.” Half of my heart crashes to the floor and shatters as the other half of it walks away from me. “D, wait—” He either doesn’t hear my low plea or he simply ignores it. I slump back against the wall and slide down to the floor. What the hell have I done?
you can’t reach into the fire and expect to not get at least a little bit scorched. I reached into the flames. I got burned.
I hate him but I miss him so much. No, that’s not true. I don’t hate him, and that’s the problem. I love Ryne.
You’re drawn to each other.” He holds his hands shoulder-width apart and brings them together quickly, smacking them together when they meet. “Like magnets.”
“He looks miserable, Dacen. He usually glares or is all stoic looking. I couldn’t tell ya the last time Ryne let his shields down at school and showed emotion like that on his face. You mean something to him.”
The question is to me, and I mumble a response. Evan, turning around after setting his things down, cups a hand around one ear. “All I caught of that was mumble-mumble-mumble. Speak up.”
Saturday I’ll get over it. * * * Sunday Over him. * * * Monday It’s fine. * * * Tuesday I’m fine. * * * Wednesday I’m not fine.
He’s been through some rough shit. But since you showed up here?” He shrugs. “It’s like he can breathe again or something.
He’s a glass teetering on the edge, about to fall and shatter. I’ll always be there to pick up his pieces
“For me, anxiety is like a constant stream of white noise in the background. You can ignore it for a while but then something triggers you; a comment, a misinterpreted look, a real or perceived failure. You hone in on the white noise and it becomes all you can hear, all you can focus on. Then all hell breaks loose. The white noise turns into a buzzing sound, then into a blaring alarm. As it gets stronger, it comes at you from all angles, pressing and threatening to crush your bones. Your eyes are laser-focused looking for the threat, yet nothing registers in your vision. “The room starts to
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“I love you, Dacen,” I whisper to his sleeping body and kiss the top of his head. The last thought I have before I’m totally out is that I am absolutely where I’m meant to be, with the person I’m meant to be with. And that thought doesn’t scare me at all.
Drop the towel, Ryne. Drop the towel. For the love of all that is holy… Drop. The Damn. Towel. It repeats over and over in my head like a broken record until there’s a knock on the door and that record screeches to a halt. “Ryne, honey, I’ve got some of your laundry here.” Oh God. Don’t drop the towel.
“I don’t know how you did it, but you weaseled your way into my cold, dead heart and breathed life back into it. Now my heart, my mind, my body are all filled with your empathy, your love, your weirdness.” I place a gentle kiss on his lips and speak my next words with my forehead against his. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. You own my heart. I love you, Taco Socks. I’m in this for the long haul.”
