Always Forever

  “We’ll agree to disagree,” she says, quickly disregarding my theory. “What about your job here? Are they going to hold your spot?”

  “I told my manager I got a summer internship. It was Hope’s idea. She’s surprisingly excellent at coming up with convincing lies. It’s a little scary.”

  “It’s probably because she was a foster kid. They learn that stuff from all the weird families they stay with.”

  I roll my eyes. I love Sadie, but I swear the girl suffers from some kind of suburbia syndrome.

  “Not every kid in the foster system is automatically a liar. And my family fostered Hope.”

  “Exactly,” she sings.

  “If you were here I’d hit you.”

  “And I would like it.” She makes a purring sound, causing the phone to vibrate against my ear.

  “I’ve told you not to include me in your kinky sex play.”

  “Boo. You’re no fun. Speaking of kinky sex play… What are your plans for this summer now that you’ve been given the green light? I think it’s more than a coincidence you chose to stay with Hope.”

  “I honestly don’t know,” I say squeezing the phone tightly. My stomach is doing somersaults just thinking about it.

  “Misty, it’s me. Be real. We both know you’re heading to Chicago for one person and one person only. What I want to know is whether you’re going to play kinky sex games with Kellin Patel and leave him begging for more, or if you’re going to chicken out and waste this once in a lifetime opportunity.”

  I fall back heavily on my bed. I’m pretty sure I’m wrinkling half the clothes I still need to pack, but I don’t care. “I need some answers. He was the first guy I ever loved and I thought he cared about me too. I understood when he moved. That was out of his control. But after we saw each other again at Hope’s graduation…I thought something was still there. And then…”

  “And then he showed up at Hope and Mason’s wedding with a skank on his arm. I know. I was there. You still haven’t answered my question.”

  “I can’t give you an answer. I don’t know what I want or what I’m going to do.”

  “Kellin’s attractive. He’s sexy with a capital S, and he was your first love. But just because he was first doesn’t mean he’s better. He treated you like shit. There are plenty of guys to sow those wild oats with. Ones that won’t hurt as much. Just remember that.”

  “I have to finish packing,” I say, choosing not to comment. I know what Sadie’s saying and I understand where she’s coming from. She only remembers her best friend crying in the bathroom at her foster sister’s wedding. She never knew Kellin. Not like I did. She didn’t get to see when he made my heart whole. Only when he broke it into pieces.

  “Call me when you get there?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  I end the call, glancing over at my half-full suitcase. And I wonder what the hell I’m doing.

  6

  Kellin

  Friday nights at my brother’s place are my sanctuary. My reprieve from the stress of the week. He and I hold up in his well-stocked kitchen and try to master our dad’s old pasta recipes. And then we spend the rest of the night with his wife, eating and drinking, and listening to music. It’s about as perfect as a Friday can be. At least for me.

  Mason has always been more than a brother. He took on the role of dad, counselor, and best friend years ago. I look forward to our few hours together all week.

  It’s especially needed tonight after the shit with Kelly yesterday.

  I have a key, but I knock anyway. If it were just Mason, I wouldn’t bother, but I do it out of respect for Hope. That and there’s a small piece of me that has always feared walking in on her self-harming. Again.

  My brother fell for a woman with a very dark past and piss-poor ways of dealing with it. She’s been in counseling off and on for years, and as far as I know, she hasn’t hurt herself in a long time. But no matter how hard I try, I’ll never forget watching her burn herself. Some shit just stays with you. The scent of burning flesh and hair filling a room as your brother’s girlfriend purposely sticks a curling iron against her arm is one of them. It’s enough to scar a twelve-year-old boy for life. Trust me.

  Hope and I get along well. And all that shit is just a memory at this point, but it’s always there in the recesses of my mind. I’m struck with a mini bout of anxiety every time I knock on their door. If it’s like this for me, I can’t imagine the fear my brother lives with every single day.

  But he loves her, so it’s worth it to him. He’s a much stronger man than I am. I don’t think I could deal with that level of constant tension.

  Something good did come out of all Hope’s issues. Her desire to help people like herself. Her goal is to finish her final stretch of college—getting her second degree—and open an art therapy center. Somewhere she can use her love of music to make others better.

  Mason greets me with a beer, and I happily accept. About four more of these and maybe I won’t feel like I was rolled down a hill of shit.

  “You all right?” he asks as I follow him inside and head straight for the kitchen.

  “Not really.”

  He pulls a pot out of the cabinet, glancing over his shoulder at me. “What’s wrong?”

  I chug down the rest of my beer and toss the bottle in the recycling. “Kelly and I broke up.”

  Mason straightens, setting the pot in the sink. “That sucks.” He says it deadpan as if it doesn’t suck at all.

  “Good riddance,” Hope says as she sweeps into the kitchen long enough to grab two bottles of water. I watch her retreating form and exhale a long breath.

  “Did anybody like my girlfriend?”

  “Nope,” Hope calls from the living room.

  Mason chuckles and shrugs unapologetically. “I think you’re better off, man. She was kind of a bitch.”

  I hop onto the counter, pondering his statement. I know I’m better off. And I know Kelly is bitchy. But I invested eight months of my life with her and that’s time I’ll never get back.

  “She cheated on me with her ex.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Right?” I push the refrigerator door open with my foot and grab another beer out. I think I deserve a few pity drinks tonight.

  “Two and you stay,” Mason reminds me. He has a two-drink rule: Crash on the couch so you don’t crash your car. Even if I weren’t months shy of being legal, I still wouldn’t drink and drive—I learned that ugly lesson early in life after Hope’s ex nearly killed Guy. So I obey the rule.

  “I know.”

  He starts handing me ingredients to cut and I get right to work. Cooking has become therapeutic. Something to focus on. A skill to improve upon.

  “You’ll have to take the floor, though.”

  “The floor?” I pause mid-cut, the knife resting half inside a tomato.

  “Did I hear you right?” Hope asks, peering around the corner. “Did you say Kelly cheated on you?”

  I nod, returning to my progress on the vegetables. I really don’t want to get into it. Telling Mason that Kelly cheated was as much as I was willing to discuss about the subject. Stretching it out, rehashing, and dissecting it isn’t on my To-Do list.

  “I knew there was a reason I never liked that girl,” she says before disappearing again.

  “Apparently that’s a common sentiment,” I murmur to myself. I scoop up a handful of chopped veggies and drop them in a pan. “What are we making tonight?” I hope it’s something time consuming.

  “Lasagna. Sound good?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Mason turns on his iPod and we continue to work on dinner, falling into a relaxed routine. Most people would tell you pasta is all about the sauce, but for me, it’s the cheese. The more the merrier. And on a lasagna, I swear I live for that slightly crispy top layer. It’s the perfect comfort food.

  My brother and I make one badass cooking team and I can’t wait to devour our masterpiece. I watch him slip the pan into
the oven while I crack open another beer.

  “I have your tent in the car,” I say as I begin the only part that sucks about our Friday night ritual. The cleanup.

  “I thought you needed it for the trip?”

  “I’m not going now.” I can feel the weight of his gaze, but I shrug it off and focus on my task.

  “That’s bullshit. You can’t let her keep you from going. All you’ve talked about for months is this trip. You’ve wanted to do something like this since you were a little kid—despite how many times Mom moved us. All I wanted was to stay put in one place long enough to make friends, but you were always talking about all the new places you wanted to visit. ‘Sleeping under new stars.’ You’re going to let a girl take that from you?”

  I sigh audibly, dropping the washcloth into the sink. “Roh and I were paying for half the trip. Kelly and her friend were paying for the other half. We can’t afford to go anymore.”

  “How much do you need? I have some money saved. You can borrow it and pay me back when you have the money.”

  “I’m not taking your money. You guys are saving for Hope’s therapy center. I’ll just go next year or the year after when Roh and I can afford to go alone.”

  “I’ll go with you guys,” a familiar voice says behind me. My heart automatically beats in double time, my body reacting to her presence. She’s the only girl who has ever had this effect on me—this mental, physical, and emotional stormy mix of excitement, anticipation, regret, and longing—all at once.

  I quickly try to remember how long it’s been since I’ve last seen her. Heard her soft, sweet laugh, felt my stomach twist this way, or my breath catch like it is now? Two years?

  No, three. Not since the wedding when I fucked everything up.

  I try to take a calming breath, but my lungs refuse to cooperate. I’m not sure if it’s the shock, or maybe it has more to do with the way my pulse is throbbing and my stomach is still churning with guilt.

  At seventeen, guys can be assholes. It’s not intentional. We’re just fucking stupid. And I’ve been paying for that stupidity ever since.

  I know we’ve maintained a silent don’t ask, don’t tell agreement regarding Misty since the reception, but Hope and Mason could have warned me she was here. A little heads up would have been nice.

  I pivot on my heels, and even though I knew Misty was standing behind me from the moment I heard her voice, I’m still startled to see her after all this time.

  And I’ll be damned if she doesn’t look even better than she did the last time.

  7

  Misty

  Seeing Kellin after all this time is harder than I expected it to be. When Hope told me she and Mason hadn’t told him I was coming, I kind of wanted to turn around and go back home.

  And then when I heard his voice in the kitchen, my heart nearly pounded out of my chest. I ached to set eyes on him, but at the same time, I was terrified. Scared I would break open right there in my foster sister’s kitchen. But when I heard how unhappy he sounded, my feet dragged me in there, and my mouth started going—both of which I couldn’t seem to find control over.

  And just like that, the part of my heart I closed up years ago is threatening to burst wide open.

  It’s those eyes. The striking green against the dark, chaotic mess of hair. The way they hide nothing, yet refuse to give anything away. Like right now, I can tell he’s surprised to see me. But shock is the only expression I’m able to get a grasp on, though I clearly see a multitude of other emotions flash like lightning in his gaze.

  The last time I saw him comes rushing back in vivid detail. All the confusion. The pain. The anger. And I wonder if he can see it reflected in my eyes. Are my feelings transparent, or am I as protected as he is?

  The silence is reaching an uncomfortable level, so I try to fill it. “Hope told me a little about your trip,” I say going back to my earlier statement. “My dad used to take us camping all the time. Back before he married Jenny and there were too many kids to fit into a tent.” I laugh softly, but Kellin’s expression doesn’t change.

  “Anyway,” I go on with less confidence than I started with. “If you’re looking for two more to help cover the trip, I’d love to go camping again and I’m sure I could get my friend to go. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

  Hope squishes in between me and the small doorway, draping her arm over my shoulder. “I think that’s a fantastic idea,” she states with too much enthusiasm. I wonder if she wants rid of me already until she not so subtly winks in my direction.

  “I do too,” Mason says, tag teaming.

  “I can talk to Derrick at Newton’s Pizza and let him know you’re unavailable to start for a couple more weeks,” Hope adds.

  Kellin reaches back blindly and swipes up his beer bottle. He gives me a nod before taking a long drink. “Talk to your friend and let me know.”

  I smile, but once again, I get nothing in return but that probing stare of his. I wiggle my phone out of my pocket and slip outside to make some phone calls.

  ~*~

  The first time Kellin broke my heart I was thirteen. Granted, it wasn’t his fault. Since his dad’s death, his mom had become a runner. Always on the move, trying to outrun her pain. His move to my Ohio town was the shortest stint he spent anywhere. We were just getting to know each other when his mom decided yet another move was in order. It was an innocent crush and I bounced back pretty quickly after crying myself to sleep each night that first week. I think what made it easier was knowing he was as upset about it as I was. I knew I wasn’t alone in the heartache.

  At that age, you get busy, caught up with the everyday—school, friends, new crushes—and you lose contact. Because Hope was dating Mason, even though I didn’t have direct communication with Kellin anymore, I still knew what was happening with him. And that was comforting. In a way, it felt like he was still a part of my life. When Hope moved to Chicago for school, the updates stopped. There were no more little details to overhear or ask about without her in the house anymore. It felt like I lost them both.

  Then Hope graduated from her first round of college. We all attended the ceremony and the party that followed. The whole ridiculously large family was there, as was Mason with his mom and Kellin.

  Almost as if five years hadn’t passed, Kellin and I sat in a corner and talked while everyone else partied the night away. We exchanged cell phone numbers and email addresses. We promised to add each other on all the social networks. And everything seemed…promising.

  Day after day, Kellin and I texted, called, emailed, and messaged each other like we were the best of friends. We talked about anything and everything. I opened up to him about my mom and how her religious beliefs tore my family apart—my first family—back before Dad met Jenny and remarried. And in turn, Kellin told me about his dad’s death and the toll it took on his family.

  After two weeks, I knew I had feelings for him. Different, stronger feelings. I had recently become an official adult and was no longer dealing with the little crush I experienced at thirteen. This was deeper, more meaningful. This was love. My first. And I had it hard.

  By week three, I was ready to scream it to the world, but Hope and Mason’s wedding was just one short week away, so I decided to wait and tell Kellin in person. I was so sure he felt the same way. I had this whole scenario in my head: I’d tell him I loved him. He’d tell me he loved me too. We’d share our first kiss. And I would finally lose my virginity to someone I loved and trusted.

  I was certain I’d leave that wedding reception in a long distance relationship and plans to join him in college, though I had already been accepted at my first choice in Ohio. I was willing to give up everything to be closer to him. To give us a real chance. Because he was worth it to me.

  We didn’t talk as much that last week before the wedding, but I knew he was busy helping with the last minute details. The fact that he was so committed to helping his brother made me care about him more.

  And the
n the wedding came.

  Kellin broke my heart for the second time when he showed up with his girlfriend on his arm. A girlfriend he never mentioned to me in any of our daily talks, as if the weeks of conversations never really happened.

  Now, here I am, back for another shot to the heart. Only I’m not thirteen, experiencing my first infatuation with a boy this time. And I’m not eighteen, falling in love for the first time.

  I’m here to have some fun and get some answers so I can finally put Kellin Patel behind me and go back to Luke with no doubts.

  8

  Kellin

  It’s hard to explain how I’ve held on to feelings for a woman I’ve never had sex with. Or even kissed for that matter. I think it’s because she was the first. Maybe because she was also the second. Probably because she was the constant. Definitely because I’ve always thought she was the coolest chick I ever met.

  To be honest, a lot of it might be because I always wanted more than what I got. But there was always something standing in our way. Time, family, myself.

  All I keep thinking as I try futilely to get comfortable on this hard-ass floor, is Misty’s back.

  She’s back and looking sexy as hell. And I’m going to be in close confines with her for the next fifteen days.

  My gaze automatically settles on her face, features relaxed as she sleeps comfortably on the couch just a few feet away. The blanket is draped just over her middle, as if she’s too warm to cover up, but too cold to lose the blanket. It leaves her upper and lower halves free to be perused.

  So of course, I look.

  Misty has always been pretty. I thought that from the very first time I saw her. But now that she’s older, there’s a soft, womanly beauty that wasn’t as obvious before. Her curves are more pronounced and her muscles more defined.

  My eyes rake over her toes, painted a shiny purple, and follow an invisible trail up her long legs. I wonder if she still plays sports. The toned muscles tell me she does.