20. Peter
20
Peter
“ C an we...really have a barbecue this summer?” I asked as we unloaded the groceries back at home.
Everett seemed to know that wasn’t really what I was asking, but his smile was serene, not edgy. He nodded. “Yeah, I think it’d be fun. I’ve never gotten to do one before. Sometimes my apartment complex would have cookouts on the roof or something, but that’s not the same. Do you...want to?”
“Yeah! For sure. I’d love to have Ezra over, and I want to get to know his person. Marsha seems so nice. I think that’d be really good.” And mostly? I was just happy Everett was staying. Maybe it wouldn’t be forever and we’d have some other adventure in the future, but maybe this would be our place. I couldn’t wait to find out.
He left out the stuff for baking, and we prepared the batter for the honey cake first.
That went into a round pan, greased and covered in flour.
There was a patch of dust at the very tip of Everett’s nose, and I stared at it for a second too long. I desperately wanted to kiss it, to catch that dust on my lips and then let them drift lower to taste his again. Ugh, I wanted to kiss him and hold him and let my heart fly.
And I didn’t want to make him feel weird or like he was hurting me or doing anything wrong.
“Are you okay?” Everett had caught me staring and he tipped his head to the side.
I blinked, straightening my neck. “Totally. Absolutely great. Best ever.”
He grinned and handed me the cake pan. “Want to put this in the oven?”
“Sure! How long?”
“Hm...” Everett leaned over the recipe card. “It says fifty-five minutes, or when a toothpick comes out clean.”
I set the timer and leaned back against the counter. The cookies we were making were oatmeal with pecans instead of raisins, because only grownups put raisins in cookies. The whole kitchen smelled like honey and cinnamon and warmth.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Everett looked up from where he was scooping out mounds of cookie dough one by one.
I shrugged. “This is perfect.”
When he was done and put the baking sheet in the fridge to chill, we each took a beater and licked the batter clean. With the oven going, it was a little warmer in the kitchen than it would’ve been normally, and I cracked open the window, something twisting in my belly. Would they come?
If they did . . . would they remember me?
Since Everett had come to Cider Landing all those years ago, I’d stuck out from the other kids. Now, I wasn’t even a kid. Most days, I wasn’t totally sure what I was, but I didn’t want to hear how awful growing up was, how much I’d given up and how pathetic it was for me to want something other than to play forever.
Sure, playing was great, but—but Everett and I had fun, and sometimes that was playing a game but sometimes it was just being together or cooking a meal or thinking about the future.
Still, I wanted to do this. It was worthwhile, to make sure the kids knew I was around if they ever needed anything. Even if they acted like, well, kids, and even if they hurt my feelings, it’d be okay.
I had Everett, and everything would be okay.
I wandered over to him and looped my arms around his middle. He hugged me back. “You okay?”
I nodded without lifting my head. “Just thinking about how happy I am to have you.”
I propped my chin on his chest and held his eye. There was something there, sweeter than any cake or cookie, but I wasn’t going to push for more, and before I could ask what it meant, Everett caught sight of something behind me.
“I think someone’s here,” he whispered.
I turned and even in the dark, I could see a cloud of fluffy white lace.
I sighed. “Aurora.”
“Do you want to go talk to her?”
I nodded, but I—I didn’t have words right then. Everett let me go.
“Call if you need anything,” he said, but he didn’t follow me out there. Maybe this time, he wasn’t afraid that I’d go back to the woods.
My throat was tight when I went out into the side yard, where Aurora was already sitting on one of the old swings. She didn’t look up as I approached, but her shoulders stiffened.
When I was standing right in front of her, her feet digging into the dirt as she swayed back and forth, I could barely hear her whisper, “Are you mad at me?”
Shit—was I?
Aurora knew everything. She’d been out there the longest, knew everything about magic and the best games and—well, everything. She was something more than the rest of us, but deep down, she’d always been another lost kid too.
“Are you the one who took me from my family and—and put that other boy in my place?”
Without lifting her head, Aurora shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I must’ve been, but I don’t remember much about life before playing with you. After that, nothing else was important.”
I nodded, scuffing my feet through the dirt too. After a moment, I sat in the swing beside her.
“Well, either way, no. I’m not mad at you.”
Finally, her head popped up, and I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. She was staring at me, eyes wide, blinking slow.
“You’re not?”
“Nope.” I dug my foot into the ground to push myself back. “I have the best life, Rora, and I always have. I got to play and have adventures. Now, I have Everett and there are movies and so many things to do and see, and I’m excited for all of it.” I twisted on the swing with a creak. “And I have you too, right? Best friends?”
Everett was first in my heart, maybe, but Aurora had been there the longest. Anyway, he was...something more than my best friend. At least, I hoped he would be.
“If you want to be,” Aurora whispered.
“Yup. I don’t want to give up anything. I want it all.” I stopped swinging, dragging my foot to slow down. “Do the other kids remember me?”
Aurora shrugged. “Maybe a little? It’s hard to think about people leaving, but when we smelled the honey cake, William asked if we could come and have some.”
“Of course, yeah. We made it for you guys. I’d love if you came. If you stay a little while, we’ll have cookies too, and I want everybody to meet Everett.”
“Really?” A bright voice came from behind a tree, and Jessie stuck their head out. “I love cookies!”
“Yeah!” I got out of the swing and held out my hand to them. “Come inside and you can help us put them in to bake.”
They took my hand, and it—it felt like something was stitching together in my chest, a hurt part of me that I hadn’t wanted to look at too closely before, because I’d been afraid it’d never heal.
I caught Aurora’s eye, and she smiled too.