Chapter 26
Cricket Jenkins
As we step outside the Bellagio, River appears, like he’s been waiting for us to come out. “Hey, how was it?”
“It was cool. Want us to go back in with you?” I ask, pointing.
He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I grabbed us tickets for the High Roller observation wheel. We should head over there.” River holds out tickets, and we each grab one.
“Okay. Cool. Is it far?” I’ve never been to Vegas before, and I’m not even sure where we are.
“Just a few blocks. See?” He points to the huge Ferris wheel, all lit up.
“I’ve always wanted to go on that,” Micah says.
River grins. “It’s fun. We filmed here once, and the whole cast went on it. You can see everything for miles.”
As we walk, River slides his arm around me and whispers, “How’s it going?”
“How’s what going?” I whisper back.
“My plan to get you two together.”
I trip over my own feet, and River has to practically pick me up.
Micah turns around. “Are you guys okay?”
River pulls me closer to his side. “Fine. We’re good.”
Micah turns back around and grunts like he’s upset about something.
I totally should have guessed what River was doing. He did tell me he wanted to make Micah jealous. I just don’t see that it’s working well. Although Micah kind of looked like he wanted to kiss me back under the mistletoe.
“Is it working?” he prods.
“Maybe?” I raise my eyebrows at him because I’m just unsure.
He nods. “When we get a little closer, I’ll fake another call and let you two get on the Ferris wheel alone.”
I start to feel a little uncomfortable about this. I mean, I’m basically lying to Micah, and that doesn’t sit right with me. But we’re almost to the High Roller, and I kind of do want to go on it with Micah.
“All right.”
River winks at me. He stops walking and pulls out his phone. “Oh, hold on,” he says loud enough for Micah to stop and turn around. “My mom’s calling.”
He pretends to answer his phone. “Hi, Mom! What? Really? Right now?” He covers the phone and whispers to us, “Family emergency. I need to take this. You guys go ahead without me.”
I watch him walk a few steps away, talking into his phone, and I can’t help but smile. What a faker.
Micah shoves his hands into his pockets. “Another call? He’s sure popular today.”
I fidget with my ticket. “Looks like he might be a while.”
Micah frowns. “Should we wait for him?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I mean, if he’s handling family stuff…” I trail off and look at the High Roller. “He said to go ahead.”
We make our way through the short line, and soon, we’re settling into one of the pods.
It’s spacious—big enough for about twenty people, but since it’s just the two of us, it feels almost too big.
We’re surrounded by glass and can see all around us.
The wheel starts moving so slowly I can barely tell we’re ascending.
“This is nice,” I say, moving to the windows. The Strip stretches out below us, all bright lights against the desert darkness. “River was right. You really can see everything.”
Micah joins me at the window, standing closer than he usually does. “It’s beautiful. Different from home.”
“Very different.” I glance at him sideways. “I always got the impression you wanted to make it big in the music industry and leave Willow Shade Island. At least, that’s what you said growing up. Is that still true?”
“I don’t know.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I thought I wanted more, but leaving home and going to school was so different from what I expected. Now I’m not sure I want to leave Willow Shade.” He looks at me. “There are people there I don’t want to leave.”
There’s something in his voice that makes me turn away from the view to really look at him. “What do you mean?”
He runs a hand through his hair and leans against the railing. “I don’t know. It’s just… after everything that happened, home has become this anchor, you know? The one constant thing. I didn’t even realize it until I left for school.”
We’re rising higher now, and the lights below us are getting smaller. I can feel the question forming before I even decide to ask it. “Everything that happened?”
Micah is quiet for a long moment. Then he sighs and looks down at his hands. “The accident. When my parents died.”
My heart clenches. We’ve known each other for years, but he’s never really talked about that day. None of the Barrett brothers have, at least not with me. “It was a horrible day.”
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “It was.”
I sense he wants to say more, but he doesn’t speak up, so I wait and let him talk when he’s ready. Finally, he speaks.
“You know what the worst part is?” He looks at me, and his eyes are so full of pain it takes my breath away. “The last thing I said to my mom wasn’t ‘I love you’ or even ‘see you later.’ It was something awful.”
My throat closes, and I can barely breathe. “What did you say to her?”
“I can’t say it. It’s too terrible.”
I squeeze his arm. “You were just a kid. It couldn’t have been that bad.”
He looks down at the floor. “I said, ‘I hate you.’”
“Oh, Micah.” I move closer to him. Tears prick at my eyes because I know how much that must be killing him. He’s never opened up to me about that. “What happened?” I ask softly.
He stares out at the horizon for a while, not saying anything, his jaw working. Finally, he looks at me and lets out a breath.
“They were pulling Noah out of school for some book signing. He got to miss a whole day, and I had to stay and go to school. I was so angry about it. I thought it was unfair. So when Mom came to kiss me goodbye that morning, I jerked away from her and said it.” His voice cracks slightly, and tears pool in his eyes.
“I said I hated her because she loved Noah more than me.”
I reach up and place my hand on his cheek without thinking. “You were just a kid. You were upset.”
“I was old enough to know better.” He closes his eyes and lets the tears fall, snuggling into my hand.
Electricity flows into me. I catch a tear with my thumb, wiping it off his face. “Micah—”
“And then they were gone, and I could never take it back. I could never tell her I didn’t mean it.”
We’re at the top now, the highest point of the wheel, and the view is spectacular, but I can’t look away from Micah’s face. “You know she knew you didn’t mean it, right? Mothers always know.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t understand. I was throwing a stupid temper tantrum. I acted like such a baby.”
“That’s what seven-year-olds do,” I say softly. “That’s normal.”
“But…” His voice is barely above a whisper now. “What if she died thinking I actually hated her?”
I cup his face with both hands. I want to take away this pain. I want it so bad it hurts. “Micah Barrett, look at me.”
He meets my eyes reluctantly.
“Your mom knew you loved her. She knew because of all the other times you showed her, all the other things you said and did. One moment of seven-year-old anger doesn’t erase all the good times. You were her son. Her baby. She loved you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.” My fingers graze his skin. “Because I know you. I’ve known you for years, and you are the most loyal, protective, loving person I’ve ever met. You take care of everyone around you, sometimes to your own detriment.”
He’s quiet, staring out at the lights of Vegas spread below us.
“And another thing,” I continue, my voice gaining strength. “You getting mad about having to go to school doesn’t define your entire relationship with her. You were her son. She carried you, fed you, rocked you to sleep. Do you really think one argument would make her forget all of that?”
He swallows, and more tears flow. “I’ve been carrying around this guilt. It’s been eating at me.”
I wipe away his tears. “It’s time to let it go. Your mom wouldn’t want you torturing yourself like this.”
Something shifts in his expression. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”
My lips move to tell him it’s because I love him. Because I’ve loved him for so long I feel like he’s a part of me. But I don’t. I can’t. Instead, I choke out, “Because we’ve been best friends forever.”
He pulls me into an embrace, and I bury my face in his jacket. I close my eyes and pretend he’s hugging me because he feels things for me. That he loves me and can’t live without me. But it’s all a lie, and the pain stabs deep into my chest.
We’re starting to descend now, but neither of us moves away from the window or from each other.
“Thank you,” Micah says, and his voice is rough with emotion. “I’ve never… I’ve never told anyone that before. Not even my brothers.”
My heart swells, and I blink back my own tears. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”
He pulls back and looks at me then, really looks at me, and there’s something different in his expression. Something I’ve never seen before, and I wonder if maybe, finally, he’s starting to see me as more than just a friend.
“Cricket?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for always being there for me.”
I feel my cheeks heat up again, but I don’t look away. “Of course.”
The wheel continues its slow descent, and the lights of the Strip grow brighter and closer.
Micah lets go of me and walks to the other side of the pod. “This is pretty cool.”
I join him. “Yeah, it is.”
“Maybe you and River can come back so you can enjoy it together.”
My heart sinks. River’s plan isn’t working after all. Micah’s not jealous.
I sigh. Micah will never see me as anything more than a friend.