“It’s okay, Kenzie,” he told me, pulling the comforter back to reveal my swollen, red eyes and damp cheeks. I still remember the smile of reassurance he gave me, back at a time when we were all so happy. “You’re allowed to grow up. Soon, you aren’t going to be the baby anymore!”
But three months later, I was still their baby. I was still their one and only. I didn’t want to grow up after that. I wanted to stay young and innocent just for them.
“Kenzie’s seeing Jaden again,” Mom announces, and my eyes fire up from the floor, pulling my thoughts back to the conversation at hand.
“We’re just friends,” I quickly add when Dad appears surprised. “If even that. I don’t really know.”
Dad takes a sip of his Coke and then straightens up, scratching the back of his bare head. “I imagine they have a lot going on right now.”
Like we don’t? I think. I certainly don’t say it out loud, though. Instead I just shrug. “I guess, but they were my friends.”
Dad studies me for a moment longer, then presses his lips together. “Well, okay,” he says, and then turns and leaves the kitchen, heading back to the living room, where the TV is blaring.
Mom has returned to finishing up the dishes, her hands back in the sink, glasses clinking together. “You can take my car,” she tells me before I even have to ask. “But don’t be too late. I’ve invited the family over for lunch tomorrow, so no sleeping until noon. I need you to help me with the roast.”
“Okay.” I spin around to leave so that I can head upstairs to change out of my work uniform, but before I even take one step forward, I spot a bottle of red wine on the counter by the coffee machine, pressed back against the wall as though that’ll put it out of view. Mom hasn’t had a single drink today, I can tell, but that doesn’t mean she won’t resort to it later.
I throw a quick glance over my shoulder. Her back is still to me, the dishes still splashing in the water. I stretch forward, swiping the unopened bottle from the counter and slipping it under my hoodie, holding it against my stomach.
I dart out of the kitchen and past the living room door without either Mom or Dad noticing, and I run up the stairs to my room so quickly that I’m surprised I don’t break an ankle en route. The moment I get into my room, I stash the bottle under my pillows and then actively try my best to forget about it completely.
It’s almost 8PM by now, but there’s no way I’m going over to Jaden’s place still looking the way I am. It was embarrassing enough having to bowl in my uniform after sweating off half my makeup during my shift, so I slip out of my red polo and pants and toss them into the corner behind my door that has become home to an ever-mounting laundry pile. I let my hair down and pull on my favorite black, ripped denim jeans, then quickly fix my makeup. I hate stepping foot out the front door with a bare face, not because I’m trying to impress anyone, but because I feel much more confident when the freckles across my nose and cheeks are hidden and when my eyelashes are much more defined. Concealer and mascara have been my best friends since freshman year. I throw in a pair of earrings and spray on perfume, and just as I’m slipping into a pair of black sneakers, my phone vibrates in my hand. Will’s name lights up my screen, so I answer on the first ring.
“Hey, Will.”
“Hey,” he says. “We’re going for a drive. Should I pick you up?”
I reach for Mom’s car keys on my dresser and hook them around my index finger, flicking off my bedroom light. As I descend the staircase, I quickly mumble, “I’m actually just heading over to see Jaden.”
“You’re kidding?” I feel as though I have done nothing but surprise Will the whole weekend. “Really?”
“Really,” I confirm. The thought of spending more time with Jaden sends warm shivers throughout my entire body, and not in a bad way.
“Good for you, Kenzie,” Will says after a minute, and he sounds genuine and sincere, almost like he’s proud of me. He knows how hard this is. “I hope it goes well.”
“Me too,” I say, and then we exchange quick goodbyes before hanging up the call.
Downstairs, I peer around the living room door to tell Mom and Dad that I’m leaving, and they wish me a nice evening. I inconspicuously scan the room at the same time, and I feel at ease walking out the front door knowing there isn’t a single wine glass to be seen within a one-room radius of Mom.
I slide back into the Prius and I head off, feeling surprisingly relaxed. It’s growing dark outside and the streetlights are slowly flickering to life, brightening up the streets of Windsor. I drive a little over the limit, and I’m across town and rolling along Ponderosa Drive within a matter of minutes. Small towns have their benefits.
I drive to the intersection, hunching over the steering wheel as I pull into the driveway behind the Corolla, studying the house through my windshield. The porch lights are on again, inviting me inside, and most of the lights inside the house are on too, creating a warm glow in the darkening night. I cut the engine and throw a final glance at myself in the rearview mirror. When I left for work at 9:30AM this morning, the last thing I expected was spend my Saturday night with Jaden.
As I’m walking up the driveway to the porch, I pass the boat again. It’s still got its protective cover on and I wonder to myself if it’s been sitting there for an entire year, untouched and abandoned. I try not to think too much about the day I got to ride in it, and instead, I hurry up to the porch. As I adjust my hair, I exhale a long breath of air, and then ring the doorbell. I hear it shrill around the house and I take a step back, waiting.
12
The door swings open and, of course, it’s Jaden who’s there on the other side of the threshold to greet me. He smiles as though he’s relieved I’ve actually turned up. Still wearing his black jeans and T-shirt, the only thing that’s different about him is his hair. It’s flattened at the top now and it falls over his forehead. “Nice jeans,” he comments, giving them a single nod.
Self-consciously, I run my fingers over the skin of my thigh that’s exposed through the ripped, frayed edges of the denim. My anxious gaze falls to Jaden’s own jeans, torn at the knees. “That’s a coincidence.”
“Or you did it on purpose because you’re copying my style,” he teases. Then, he cracks a smile and takes a step back from the door, ushering me inside. “Come on in.”
I keep my head down as I brush past him. I kick off my shoes and tuck them to one side, feeling slightly out of my comfort zone.
The house radiates warmth, just as all grandparents’ houses should, with the hall lights dimmed low and a row of candles flickering from a shelf along the wall. The rich scent of cinnamon that fills the air is so delicious that I inhale deeply, taking a moment to appreciate it. I can hear the TV too, echoing from the back of the house.
“Granddad has been asking if you let him win earlier,” Jaden says. “Can you do me a favor and reassure him that, actually, you suck at bowling and just got lucky, and that he’s definitely the champ?”
I feign a dramatic gasp. “Are you asking me to lie, Jaden?”
“Only for a good cause,” he says, grinning over his shoulder at me as he walks down the hall toward the sound of the TV, and I quickly follow. He pushes open the door to the kitchen and as we step into the room he says, “Kenzie’s here.”
The kitchen smells of barbecue and grease and Nancy is by the sink with water up to her elbows as she washes up the dishes. Terry sits at the table with his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee and his eyes on the small flat-screen TV that’s mounted on the wall. When we enter, they both crane their necks to look at us.
“Hello, Kenzie!” Beaming at me, Nancy swipes the towel off the counter and dries off her hands as she walks across the small kitchen toward us. She proceeds to take off her glasses, wipes them with the hem of her apron, and then sets them back on the bridge of her thin nose.
“Hi, Nancy,” I say, mirroring her welcoming, friendly smile. I saw enough of Nancy and Terry during our game of bowling t
o decide that I like them both.
“Kenzie,” Terry says. He leans forward, props his elbows up onto the table, then purses his lips. “Did you let me win earlier? I don’t trust these two.” He flippantly waves his hand at Nancy and Jaden.
“Did I let you win?” I echo, widening my eyes at the accusation although he’s exactly right. I can tell it’s important to Terry and the competitive streak he possesses, so I quickly shake my head. “I tried my best on that last turn. It’s a shame my luck ran out, otherwise I may have just beat you. I usually don’t play that well,” I lie, then exchange a sideways glance with Jaden. I can’t bear the sight of his sparkling eyes for more than a fraction of a second, so I avert my gaze back to Terry and add, “That’s why they keep me behind the counter!”
Terry smiles with vague smugness and then leans back again in the kitchen chair, reaching for his coffee and focusing his attention back on the TV. He’s watching some cooking show.
“We’re gonna head upstairs,” Jaden says while carefully edging his way around Nancy. He heads to the refrigerator, pulls open the door, and quickly grabs two cans of soda. “Just yell if you need me.”
“Alrighty!” Nancy grins and reaches up to pat Jaden’s shoulder, though her eyes are on me as she does. I nod back as a small goodbye, then follow Jaden out of the kitchen and back out into hall, where the blissful scent of cinnamon hits me all over again.
“Thanks. Again,” Jaden says with a laugh as he glances over his shoulder at me while we’re ascending the staircase. “Maybe Granddad will actually stop talking about that game of bowling now. I swear, I take them out one time—one time— and suddenly he’s like a five-year-old tripping on a sugar rush.”
At the top of the stairs, there’s a bathroom in the center directly in front of us, and then two doors either side. Jaden steps toward the door on the right, which I’m assuming is his room, but then he lingers for a second and I realize that, actually, it’s not his. He frowns and then, with a can of Pepsi still in his hand, he taps his knuckles against the door. “Dani?”
“What?” Danielle immediately snaps back. I can sense her irritation from all the way over here on the other side of the door.
Although no permission to enter has been given, Jaden cracks the door open a few inches and peers around the frame. “Kenzie’s here,” he says quietly. Before he gets a reply, he swings the door open fully to reveal us both.
The first thing I think as I look around the room is that it’s a hell of a mess. There’re clothes scattered all over the floor, thrown carelessly around with no apparent attempt to organize them. The dresser is littered with used makeup wipes and empty cans of Sprite, and there’s a bunch of textbooks stacked haphazardly on the chair. In her old room, Dani had posters of Zac Efron all over the walls. There are no posters in this room, only her schedule for her classes taped to the wall by the window, though it’s torn around the edges.
On the double bed pushed against the wall, Dani is sitting cross-legged and hunched over a set of notes. She looks at us from beneath her eyelashes, barely bothering to lift her head. She’s wearing a black tank top and gray sweatpants with her dark hair thrown into a high ponytail. Her intense gaze rests on me for what feels like forever until finally her eyes flicker back to Jaden.
“Why?” she asks with a hint of suspicion. I gather from her attitude that she had no idea I was coming over.
A sigh escapes Jaden’s lips. “Because I invited her.”
“We’re just . . . hanging out,” I quietly add. At least I think that’s what we’re doing. I’m not sure exactly. I’ve yet to figure out where all of this is going and if I’m hoping to gain anything more than forgiveness. Maybe tonight I’ll find out.
“Yeah,” Dani says, “but why? Why now?” She places her pen between her teeth and cocks her head to one side, awaiting an answer. I feel like she’s interrogating me. And honestly, I don’t know what to say to her, because I really don’t know why I have waited twelve months to do this. Made uncomfortable by her scrutiny, I stare at the Spanish textbook that’s in front of her and keep quiet. Just last night, I was certain she smiled at me. I thought she was warming to me again, but apparently not.
“Goodnight, Dani,” Jaden says firmly through gritted teeth, his voice raised. He fixes her with a look of both disappointment and anger, then nudges me out of the room, closing the door rather loudly behind him. “Sorry about her,” he murmurs, frowning. For a moment, he appears exasperated, but then that warm, crooked smile of his returns. “By the way, here.” Extending his arm, he passes me a can of Diet Pepsi. I take it from him, careful not to brush my fingers against his again after already grasping his hands earlier at The Summit. I’m pretty sure it took at least ten minutes for the color to fade from my cheeks, and although I enjoyed it, I’m not sure how Jaden felt about it. Maybe he only wants us to be friends again and nothing more than that.
“Thanks.”
He pushes open the door to his room, allowing me to enter before closing it again behind us with a soft click. “It’s a little smaller than before,” he says. He lingers by the door as I look around the room.
I was hardly ever in Jaden’s old room in his parents’ house, but I do remember that it was pretty big, and the design was pretty much identical to the room I’m standing in now. Unlike Dani’s room, Jaden’s hasn’t changed at all. Still the same flat- screen TV atop the dresser. Still the same Xbox next to it with a stack of games, including a copy of Grand Theft Auto that we once played together. Still the same mini football perched on a shelf against the gray walls. Still the same black furniture. Still the same framed Peyton Manning jersey hung on the wall. Still personal, still Jaden’s. I don’t know why, but it comforts me.
“It hasn’t changed much though,” I comment. There’s the fresh scent of cologne in the air, and as I continue to study the room, Jaden shifts past me.
“Yeah, I tried to keep it the same,” he admits. He grabs the TV remote from his bed and turns it on, flicking through channels until he finds something, then lowers the volume until it’s almost muted entirely. I’m grateful for the background hum to avoid any silences that may arise. “It totally bugs me that the window is at the opposite side now,” he adds when he turns back around. He tosses the remote back onto his bed and then points to the window on the left, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I bet.” I glance back at the shelves on the walls. There’s that mini football again, and a calculus textbook, a couple bottles of cologne, and a set of keys. But there’s also a photograph, and I know what it is before I’ve even leaned in closer to have a look.
Of course, it’s the Hunters. Back when the family was still whole, back when there were four rather than just two. The photo is from several years ago, from a time when Jaden had a full, messy head of blond hair before he took interest in styling it, from a time when Dani was still blond with her long hair flowing down her back. She looked like a different person back then, but not just because of the drastic change in appearance. She looked like a different person because she was smiling, and she rarely does that anymore. The twins are young, maybe around ten or eleven, and they’re sitting on the grass in what appears to be their old back yard. Jaden’s sprawled out, squinting through the sunlight at the camera, and Dani is cross-legged and grinning wide.
Behind them are Brad and Kate. They’re there, right in front of me, lounging on a pair of deck chairs, smiling their perfect, sincere smiles. Brad was tall and handsome, with sharp features and neatly shaped stubble. The twins get their warm complexions and blond hair from him. On the other hand, Kate was young and beautiful, and her dark hair contrasted with her pale skin in the most elegant of ways. She looked a lot like Dani does now. I force myself to look away from them. There’s something unsettling to me about seeing Brad and Kate while knowing that they’re gone, perhaps because I’m not used to seeing photographs of someone I’ve lost. I’m only used to seeing their name and nothing more. There is nothing more.
There??
?s a small sticky note stuck to the top of the frame, only it’s old and the glue has dried out, so it’s taped to the frame instead. The bottom edge has curled up, so I carefully reach forward and gently grasp it between my thumb and forefinger. I hold it down and squint at the faded cursive writing. It’s only three words.
Be good! Dad
“They left us notes every morning,” Jaden tells me quietly.
I quickly let go of the sticky note as though I’ve been caught manhandling something precious and fragile. I sort of forgot he was even here. I glance back at him, but he’s looking straight past me at the photograph and the note.
“They would stick them to the refrigerator every morning before they left for work,” he explains. “Dani used to keep them all and I thought she was so lame for doing that.” His lips curve into a small, sad smile and his eyes flicker over to meet mine. “I ended up being grateful that she did,” he admits. “I managed to steal that one from her, but she hoards the rest.”
“I . . . ” Words evade me. I just don’t know what to say, so I swallow and drop my gaze to the carpet. After a brief moment of silence, I finally say, “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, God, not again,” Jaden says. Confused, I glance back up and stare bewildered at him as he rolls his gorgeous blue eyes and turns away from me, shaking his head. He collapses down onto his bed and props up his pillows, getting comfortable. “You don’t have to say that. Seriously. I can talk about them. I like talking about them. I’ve accepted it, so stop tiptoeing around me,” he explains, laying flat with his arms folded behind his neck, his head tilted toward me, eyes locked on mine. His words are fast and his tone is sharp, and I feel as though he is losing his patience with me. “Please, Kenzie. This is the last time I’m going to ask you.”