My eyes were greenish-brown. Dad’s were blue. But his father’s were green.
She was a liar.
Of course I would look more like her, I was a girl. But he had to be there too. I just had to look hard enough.
Something sharp bored through my heart.
Dad and I were the same. We were so much the same. I’d believe I wasn’t hers, but I’d never believe I wasn’t his.
She was a liar.
Walking made me realize that my sunburn overall felt better, like my skin was only one size too small instead of the ten sizes too small from that morning. In my room I pulled on a pair of drawstring pants and a T-shirt. I started to leave, then slipped Dad’s damp robe back on. Better.
When I heard knocking on my front door I almost jumped out of my skin. I stood in the hallway staring at it like a bomb was on the other side. Or Mom.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
“Yo, Whitaker!”
“Sean?” My legs went all rubbery in relief.
He looked up as soon as I opened the door, smiling at me like he’d been waiting all day to see me, sunburn and all. “Hey. Heard you weren’t feeling great.” He shifted a brown paper bag in front of him. “Brought you something that might help.”
I ignored the bag. For one moment I ignored everything except for the fact that he was there. I stepped out the door and hugged him. I didn’t know who was more surprised.
Sean’s breath stirred my hair as he brought his arms up around me. “Hello to you too.” He voice was low and soft, caressing. “Tell me this isn’t ’cause you’re on a bunch of painkillers?”
I shook my head into his chest, knowing the respite from reality wouldn’t last, not after Mom. Not after those old wounds had been reopened, leaving me raw and exposed.
I let Sean get carried away.
And that quickly, I remembered that Sean was salt.
I pulled away just as suddenly as I’d gone to him. After everything that had happened that day, I felt like a wrung-out towel, lacking the energy to force him to leave or confront him the way I had Mom. I pushed my hair back, knowing I’d have to say something, but the action exposed my sunburned arms as the oversize sleeves of my robe slid back.
With less hesitation than I’d hugged him with, Sean reached for me, gently squeezing my forearm and letting go to watch white finger marks appear and then get taken back over by my lobster skin. “Ouch.”
Something pricked my eyes as I stared at him. I could only nod. I took in his appearance for the first time, the crisp white shirt and dark jeans, the way his messy, haphazard hair looked slightly less messy and haphazard. The part of my heart that I hadn’t been able to wrangle away from him caught in my throat.
He saw my gaze trail over him. “I was at my grandmother’s. It makes her happy when I dress up a little. She says I’m starting to look like my grandfather.” He shrugged but flushed slightly. Sean idolized his grandfather, a firefighter who died before he was born. I’d seen pictures before and there was a resemblance.
Because it would make him happy to hear it, I said, “You do look like him.”
Another shrug from Sean, but he played it off with a smile. “Enough about how amazing I look. Let’s talk about howyoulook this good after getting deep-fried.”
I swallowed my heart back after that, not wanting his empty compliments any more than I wanted genuine ones. “Don’t, Sean.” I turned and he followed me inside.
Sean’s smile slid away, as though he couldn’t tell if I was being serious or not. “I can’t notice you look good? Since when?”
I hesitated for the tiniest moment. “You know exactly when.”
The muscle in Sean’s cheek twitched as his jaw locked.
“Besides, aren’t you dating Cami now or something?”
Sean looked at me like I’d just grown a third eye. “What?No.Why would you think that?”
