Lucas pulls my hands from his shoulders and wraps my arms around his torso, pulling me flush against his back in the process. My God, he has grown. So much.
The realization, paired with the feel of his muscles under my hands, does something to my insides. Okay, now that is a strange, foreign, unwanted feeling.
I push the feeling and thoughts away, telling myself that the lapse in judgment is due to the lack of food in my stomach as well as the lack of sleep I've gotten this week. I'm simply sleep deprived. Yes, that's it.
At the ice cream parlor a few minutes outside of the town's limits, Lucas stops his bike in the street. I'm not entirely surprised that Lucas chose this shop. When he got his first bike, we rode out here almost every day before we went to hang out at Devon's.
He goes inside to get the ice cream while I sit on a bench where he's bike is parked in case someone thinks about stealing the thing. I don't think anyone would, but Lucas has his reservations.
While I wait, I take a few photos of the street as well as the bike in front of the shop. It's a beautiful bike, much bigger than his first one.
Photography has always been a hobby of mine, one I inherited from my Appa. I'm happy I haven't lost my taste for it, like I have with almost everything else.
Lucas walks out of the shop as I snap another photo, his silhouette slightly blurred. He glares at me as though I'd been waiting for him to exit just to take a photo. He should be so lucky.
I push my phone into the pocket of my shorts, wishing I'd brought my camera instead. Lucas hands me one of the ice cream cups, the one in his hand filled with vanilla ice cream.
I look into my cup. "How'd you know what I wanted?"
"Kieran, you've had mint chocolate chip every time we've gotten ice cream since we were ten," he tells me.
I nod.
"Right after you deemed that plain chocolate was getting to be 'too chocolate-y' for you," he continues.
I shake my head, fighting a smile. "You think you know me so well, huh?"
"I do know you so well,"
He may be right. "Do you wanna go back?"
"No." He shakes his head. "Do you mind just sitting here for a minute?"
"Nope,"
We sit on the bench, neither of us saying anything and simply looking across the way at a candy store kids are piling in and out of.
I look over at him and his stiff and guarded demeanor. Seeing him like this makes me think about his dad and how screwed up their relationship is.
Growing up, Lucas spoke a lot about the fact that he only saw his dad once a year, if that. It bothered him immensely, even though neither of his parents had ever treated him well. That is, of course, until he stopped wearing his emotions on his sleeve. Until he started to pretend that it didn't get to him.
Lucas has lived with his aunt for as long as I can remember. She's his family. I've never met his mother (he hasn't seen or spoken to her since he left home), but his father is a grade-A asshole. He's stubborn, as is Lucas, but he's also an incredible manipulator refined in the art of gaslighting and guilt tripping.
"So," Lucas says, breaking the silence. "When is Alexia getting here?"
Lex is dating Lucas's best friend, Devon, and that's likely why he's asking. They haven't seen each other since last summer and the two of them are pretty clingy.
"On Sunday, I believe. She would've been here on Friday, but she has to help her mother with something for the art gallery,"
He nods. "Have you figured out your plans for next year?"
I let out a sigh. "Well, instead of going to college like I'd planned, it's been strongly suggested that I take the year off to heal," I say, my irritation shines through my words. "How do you heal from watching your parents, your house, your entire life go up in flames?"
I realize that it was the wrong thing to say as soon as it leaves my mouth. That and Lucas chokes on his ice cream.
"I'm sorry," I say, hanging my head.
He doesn't say anything.
"How are you doing, by the way? With finding out,"
He scoffs. "How am I doing? Kieran, you're the one who lost your parents,"
"True, but they meant a lot to you,"
"They did,"
"So, you wanna talk about it?"
"What can I say?" he asks with a shrug. "I don't even know how I feel. I don't think I've processed it,"
"Well, like I've said before, if you want to talk about it, I'm here. You don't have to pretend that you're okay when you're not, when you're struggling,"
"Same goes to you," he says, tossing his cup in the trash can next to the bin. "Anytime you need to talk, doesn't matter how late or early, I'm here,"
I nudge his shoulder with mine. "Are we getting back into our groove?" I ask, teasing.
He nudges my shoulder back. "I think we are," he agrees with a small smile. "So, what's the plan of action now that you're taking the year off?"
"Well, whether or not I'm going to college, I'm going to be living here from now on,"
His eyebrows raise. "You're kidding,"
"Nope. Maybe I could teach dance next year,"
"You should," he tells me. "The high school's cheer squad could use your talent,"
I shake my head. "High school girls are mean,"
"So?" Lucas laughs, shocking the hell out of me. "You're meaner,"
"What? I am not,"
"Yes, you are, and we both know it,"
Rolling my eyes, I say, "Yeah, whatever,"
He takes my empty cup from my hand and tosses it in the trash bin. Making his way to his bike, he waits for me to join him so he can place the helmet on my head. After pushing off the kickstand, he holds out his hand to let me onto the bike.
We stop in front of their yard a few minutes later. His dad's standing on the porch and his aunt's car is in the driveway. She's back earlier than usual and it kind of scares me.
"Lucas," his dad bellows.
"Give me strength," Lucas mutters under his breath. "I'll be right there," he shouts back toward the house.
I hop off the bike, take off the helmet and hand it to him. He places it on the back before placing his hand on the small of my back and gently guiding me over to our yard.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Kieran," he says before jogging across the lawn to his family.
Lucas is back to being distant on Thursday. We don't speak throughout the day except for exchanging pleasantries and when he needs to confirm an order with me. He spends his breaks outside.
I have no idea what's going on and if I'm being honest, I'm worried. I don't know what happened with his dad and aunt yesterday, but it must not have been good. If I thought he'd actually tell me anything, I'd ask. But I know him better than that.
At the end of my shift, I head to the community center. Khala Willa talked me into volunteering as a dance instructor for the fourth of July celebration when I told her about my plan to teach dance in the fall.
The events co-ordinator organizing the events for the day is a good friend of my family's, having watched me grow up, and she trusts my abilities to both dance well and be a good teacher.
The stares have subsided slightly over the last few days, but it seems that the people at the center did not get the memo. Every single person standing at the building's entrance as well as in the lobby turn, look and whisper. They almost make me regret my choice to come here.
However, my family seems to think that I spend too much time alone in my room and not enough time being surrounded by other people. This is my way of placating them.
"Kieran Darjee?" a woman's voice calls.
The event coordinator is a beautiful woman with fair skin and light brown hair. She and her husband have hosted many community barbeques. They have also been over for lunch with my family many times.
"Hi, Mrs. Halstead," I say with a smile.
She smiles at me. "How are you, dear?"
"I'm good, thank you. How are you?"
"I'm wonderful. Thank you so much for agreeing to come and teach the girls," she says, grabbing my hand.
I nod. "It's not a problem. My aunt told me that I won't be teaching today, but just going over my role here with you,"
"Yes," she says with a smile and a nod. "Let's go sit down,"
I follow her to a corner of the lobby, to a table. I take a seat and she leaves for a minute, returning with two glasses of lemonade.
"We know you're a dancer," she says. "But, would you be open to choreographing as well?"
I nod. "Sure. What style of dance are you looking for?"
"I know hip hop is your speciality, and that's what most of the girls are into, so…" she trails off with a shrug.
"Okay. That won't be a problem," I tell her. "Do you have any preferences for the song?"
She shakes her head. "No, that's up to you. You and the girls can start next week. You can come in every day after your shift at the diner,"
"Okay, that will work,"
"Thank you again, Kieran,"
I nod.
"Listen. There's something else I wanted to speak to you about," she says with a smile.
"Okay,"
"Do you remember my nephew, Julian?"
"I think so. Is he the one with the blonde hair?"
She shakes her head. "No, that's his brother. Julian has brown, curly hair,"
"Okay,"
She chuckles. "Anyway, he's coming to town in a week or so, and he's had a crush on you for years,"
"Really?"
I'm a little embarrassed that I don't remember who she's talking about.
"Yes. I was hoping to talk you into perhaps going on a date with him,"
"Oh. Well, I'm flattered, Mrs. Halstead, but I'm really not looking for a boyfriend right now," I tell her.
She nods. "I completely understand. But, it doesn't have to mean anything. It could just be as friends,"
I shake my head. "I'm sorry, but I don't think that'll happen,"
She studies my face for a moment before nodding. "Okay, I understand. No hard feelings," she says with a little laugh.
I hope she means that.