To put him out of his misery, because I know he got them for me, I say, “They’re my favorites.” I reach inside the box and pull one out.
“I know!” He blurts, then looks at me wide-eyed and mortified. “I mean…”
“Thanks, squirt.” I wink, then bite into the fresh crust, raspberries and cream melting on my tongue. I close my eyes, savoring the flavors as I try to bite back a moan, but they’re just too yummy. Dennis coughs, and I open my eyes to find him staring at my lips before his face bursts with patches of red.
“Did you just come by to feed Mike, or are there some in there for the rest of us?” Wayne yells from behind me, and suddenly, Dennis looks like he’s ready to crawl into a hole, just like I was earlier after talking to Mom.
“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he shoots back as he moves past me, heading straight for his dad. When he’s halfway across the lawn, he turns around, his brown eyes locking onto mine. “Hey, are we still on for tonight?”
A strange feeling moves through my chest as I take in his hopeful face. Rubbing a hand against my fleece vest, I head toward him. “Ican’t, Den. Sorry. Mom’s making roasted chicken, and I promised I’d be home.”
“Oh.” His smile fades momentarily, a trace of disappointment in his eyes. I know he was looking forward to tonight. I was, too. Saturdays at the diner and then maybe catching a movie afterward have kind of become our thing. I’ve never really thought of it as more than that before, but come Saturday night, there’s no place I’d rather be than with Dennis. I don’t know what that says about me, an eighteen-year-old guy, becoming best friends with a fifteen-year-old since Aaron left. But I have, and I like it that way.
“Come over,” I blurt. “For dinner, I mean. We can play cards with Mom afterwards.”
He perks up. “Yeah?”
“Sure. Why not, squirt?” I grin at him when he winces. He hates it when I call him that, but I just can’t help it. He’ssquirtto me. Always was. “It’s my time to kick your ass, anyway.”
“Dream on.” He tilts his chin at me in challenge. “You’ll never kick my ass at anything, Mike Tanner.” Then he turns and jogs toward his dad. He’s probably right, though. That kid is too smart for his own good.
“Be there at six, Den,” I yell after him.
He nods back eagerly. “You got it!”
My phone pings in my side pocket, and I pull it out, noticing a text from Mom. When I open it, I can’t help but groan because, of course, she couldn’t let it go.
Mom:503-929-500. Call Brenda!
I shake my head, but my chest fills with warmth. As nagging and relentless as my mom is, I’m glad to have this version of her back instead of the catatonic shell of a woman who barely spoke a word to me. Movingmy fingers across my phone, I type out five words I’ll never take for granted as long as I can tell her.
Me:I love you, too, Mom.
Chapter 4
Dennis
FourYearsEarlier
Wes and I run in silence along the packed wet sand early Saturday morning along Cannon Beach, which is something we do every Saturday. The sky is overcast, but as the sun rises and the day warms up, it pushes the fog back out to sea. The spray from the waves keeps me cool after running for over a mile and a half. The only things you can hear are the crashing waves, birds stirring awake, our heavy breathing, and the pounding of our feet. We’re only halfway to meeting our running goal for the day.
My legs are tight and they burn, and my lungs feel like they’re going to collapse, but before I can reach my second wind, Wes touches my arm, and we slow down to a walk, taking deep breaths through our noses, and exhaling from our mouths. Once it doesn’t feel like I’m going to vomit, I pull out the collapsible water bottle from my hydration vest and take a sip, but not too much so I don’t get cramps. Wes does the same.
Though we’ve been going to school together since middle school, we only became good friends during our junior year of high school, after we’d both been accepted onto the varsity cross-country running team.
I love running. It falls into my need to be constantly moving. I rarely sit still unless I’m playing video games or hanging out with Mike. He isn’t a big talker, but he says so much in his strength and solitude. He’s someone who I not only love but also look up to. He’s become even more of a steady fixture in my life after Aaron left for college, and I sense a depth to our relationship that has grown into a real, unbreakable friendship. Being near him silences my head a bit, allowing me to focus on the stillness of the moment. That’s when I really notice my surroundings, whether it’s in the environment, or a new little freckle on Mike’s face. God, it should be illegal to be that hot and then have freckles on top of it. Just kill me already.
“It’s harder to keep up with our training without a coach since we graduated,” Wes says, panting and running a hand through his sweaty blond hair before wiping his face with his T-shirt, hanging in his shorts.
He’s a couple of inches taller than me, standing at six feet even, and broader with more muscle, although I’m pretty fit, in a leaner way. With his bright blue eyes that are bluer than seems natural, I’ve always found him to be incredibly good-looking, but he’s no Mike. No one else does it for me. Only Mike causes my stomach to flip or makes my heart hammer nervously. Even after crushing on him since I was twelve, my attraction has only intensified over time.
“True, but we’ve got each other to keep us going. We’re leaving for college, then they’ll work us to death. You’ll see. I heard their training regime is fucking ruthless. If we thought high school was hard, college is gonna be brutal.”
Wes groans, looking a little queasy. “Shit, it is, isn’t it? There’s gonna be zero time for girls.”
He loves the ladies, so I know he’s been looking forward to diving into a whole new dating pool. It’s not like we have tons to choose from in our small town.
I chuckle and shake my head, sweat dripping down my temples. “Dude, there’ll be time for girls. I mean, we’ve already made the team, so we’re golden until our sophomore year.”
