When we don't know who to turn to, sometimes we turn to the ones we least expect.
Luke Salazar is a senior at Bay High School, and he's been pushed, shoved, and shut out for most of his life. Miles Jefferson has been the ringleader of a lot of that...
I pulled up to Brooke's modest beach bungalow after detention and running a few errands, pretending that my heart isn't about to explode from the anxiety of what's about to happen.
I am going to a friend's house. Not only a friend, but a GIRL friend. This isn't a big deal, but I haven't been to a friend's house of any gender in ages, not since middle school when Austin, my one good friend, moved to Albuquerque.
I took a deep breath and got out of the car before I could chicken out, grabbed my backpack, and walked up the sidewalk to the door.
The house was one-story, nothing special, but it was on the beach which I thought was bad-ass. And it seemed to be a remote beach, far away from the hustle and bustle of the main drag. I knocked one time, and she flung open the door.
"Hey Luke!" she exclaimed, pulling me inside.
"Hey, Brooke. What's up?"
"Nothing, just been cleaning up around here, waiting for you."
I smiled at that and looked around. The bungalow was cozy, just as I had suspected.
"Nice place."
"Thanks...we like it a lot."
"So, uh, are your parents at home?"
A sad expression crossed her face for a moment. "My parents are dead," she said, her dark eyes flashing to the floor.
Fuck. "Oh my God, Brooke. I am so sorry...I didn't know. I never would've—"
She cut me off by waving her hands in a "don't worry about it," type gesture. "Luke, please. Calm down. They passed away a long time ago when I was fourteen."
That's not that long ago, I thought. But I said, "Do you live here alone?"
She shook her head. "No, of course not. This is my older sister Katherine's house. She fought for custody of me after the accident. We sold our house when our parents died; it was too big and too much for us to take care of. With the money from that, she bought this little place and put the rest in savings for our college funds. She put herself through nursing school; she's only 23, but she had to grow up fast."
"Wow. I didn't know."
"Well, you wouldn't have...I was a total bitch to you for the past 12 years," she said, sitting down on the couch and patting the cushion for me to join her.
"Maybe...but I'm realizing that I didn't make it any easier for myself. What I mean is, I never tried to connect with anyone. In elementary school, no one bullied me; I just didn't have any friends. But I didn't try and make any either."
"Why would you when everyone was such a dick?"
I shook my head. "That's what I'm saying though. People didn't become dicks until middle school after I'd already done a good job of isolating myself."
"That doesn't make it right."
"I know it doesn't. I'm just saying that I'm realizing more and more that I'm not the only one with issues."
She considered this for a moment, then nodded. "I know that's the truth."
I sighed and clapped my hands on my thighs, standing up. "Enough of this deep existential crisis talk. We've got Bio to study."
"Ugh," she groaned, standing up.
"Where do you like to study?"
She grinned and pulled me toward the back door, facing the beach.
The deck of the cottage was beautiful, covered on top but open on the sides, allowing the gulf breeze to sweep in and out. There were white twinkle lights strung along the ceiling and comfy-looking sofas on either end.
"Wow. This is amazing."
"I designed it."
"Really?"
"Yep. That's what I want to be—an interior designer."
"Well, you'd be great at it."
Her face flushed, color flooding her otherwise porcelain skin.
"Thank you, Luke."
I nodded once and plopped down on the sofa. "Okay, what's your test over?"
"Dichotomous keys."
Brooke
Luke is telling me the ins and outs of dichotomous keys, but all I can do is watch his mouth move.
His lips were full, the top one a perfect Cupid's bow. They looked soft and kissable. My eyes traveled up to his hair—he had cut it, but it still had that sexy curl to it. How had I never noticed how attractive he is? Maybe because now he actually smiled.
And I had to wonder if that smile might have something to do with me.
"Brooke?" he was calling. "Brooke?"
I broke out of my daydream, my eyes drifting back to his.
"Sorry," I said, a nervous giggle escaping my throat.
"Have you even been listening to me?" he scolded, crossing his arms over his abdomen.
"Yes!" I lied.
"You're a terrible liar."
I rolled my eyes. "So I've been told."
"I was listening..." He raised an eyebrow. "At first. But then I started thinking about pizza." It was only half a lie. I had been thinking about his mouth...which he would use to eat pizza.
He laughed then. A true, deep laugh that I'd never expect to come out of him. "Fine. Let's order pizza."
Miles
After Rachel and I went to dinner, she leaned against her trunk after putting her backpack inside.
"Did you mean what I said about needing me to get home early?" she asked, running her fingertip down the center of my chest.
I swallowed. "Do you want to go home?" I asked, leaning in and putting my hands on the trunk on either side of her.
She shook her head. "No," she whispered.
I put a hand on her face and ran my palm down her cheek, the side of her neck, trailing my fingertips down the side of her chest. She shivered.
"Stay the night?" I breathed.
Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip.
Finally, she nodded.
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