Chapter 17 Naomi [The Past]
My brother’s voice rang down the hallway. "Your sidekick is here again, Shrimp!" There was so much irritation in that one phrase that you could feel it even through the door of my room.
"Coming!" I shouted back, tossing my hairbrush on the bed and taking one last look in the mirror before heading to the living room.
For some strange reason, it mattered to me how I looked in the presence of Tyler Brady. Over the summer, he’d shot up at least five inches. Standing next to him felt different now that we were both juniors.
Though Ty still had some growing to do to reach Adri's height, it seemed like time was passing faster than I would’ve expected at sixteen. One minute, he was just a strange boy next door, and the next, he was this fantasy in my head who had my life in his hands.
"Does he have to be here every day?" my brother grumbled as I rushed down the hallway.
Mom’s reply came from the kitchen—something about Tyler being a nice boy. Adri shot a strange look in her direction first, then at me. He was in the middle of making a call and didn’t comment further.
I smiled at him with sugar on top, the way only a sixteen-year-old girl can. "Don’t be a grump," I said.
He had the phone pressed to his ear, so he ignored me.
But I could tell he was pissed about Tyler coming over so much.
In any case, it wasn’t my fault Ty liked spending time at our house more than his own.
He had no siblings, and his parents worked a lot.
It only made sense he’d come hang out here. Right?
The only thing I didn’t get was Adri acting like some Brazilian soap opera.
They used to be inseparable, but then it came to an end, and neither ever explained the reason.
"Hey!" I called at Ty through the screen door. He was on the front porch, shuffling his feet. "You wanna come in?"
Adri was talking to someone regarding some fryer repairs at the food truck. He lowered his voice and turned away, pretending he hadn’t seen Ty entering the house.
Then, just like that, he ended the call with a grunt and was gone. He’d probably sulk in his room like a vampire until the coast was clear. He always did that when Ty dropped by.
"Adri’s in a mood, in case you couldn’t tell," I told him as he kicked off his footwear. He’d traded his Converse for a pair of all-black Timberland leather boots.
I had no idea how he wasn’t hot in them half the time, but his footwear and height weren’t the only thing that’d changed over the summer.
He’d changed. His hair had grown longer and now touched his shoulders, and he’d gotten a piercing in one ear.
A black stud. He wasn’t the sunshine anymore.
He looked like a boy in a band, attitude and all.
"When isn’t he in a mood?" Ty replied like Adri’s state of mind didn’t matter to him. He gave me that crooked smile that made my insides melt.
"I know, right?"
There was a moment of silence, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated. "So, anyway," Ty started eventually. "I was going to ask you something."
My pulse sped up. I had no idea what it could possibly be. "Sure."
"Wanna help me with the merch booth next week?" He paused. "We got a gig in Palm Springs."
"Another show?" I said, feigning surprise. "That’s—what—the hundredth one this year?"
He grinned. "I wish. But still, I won’t complain. No one wants to hear some high school band unless they deliver exceptional covers."
"That’s how all big bands start out," I supplied with a shrug.
"Ty?" Mom called from the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"
"I could eat, Mrs. Medina," he replied. Often, he’d say that just to make Mom happy, even if he’d had food at home. But that was Tyler Brady.
"Then come on up! I’m making some ceviche."
We moved to the kitchen, where Mom was in the middle of mixing the dish in a huge bowl. Tyler washed his hands and we both settled in at the table.
"Can I go with Tyler’s band to Palm Springs to help with the merch next week?" I asked matter-of-factly.
"Are your parents coming, Tyler?" Mom asked him without pausing her stirring.
"Yes. Dad’s driving us."
"Hmmm."
"Mom, please," I whined.
"I think we better check with your father, mija."
"Mr. Medina should just consider coming to Palm Springs too," Tyler said. "Going to be a big crowd that evening. Lethal Sky is headlining." He cleared his throat and added, "It's a band from San Diego."
"Smart marketing, young man." My mom laughed. "You know the food truck will bring more people than the concert, right?"
Ty grinned. "Cross promotion."
"I’ll mention it to your father tonight," Mom replied, shifting her attention to me.
Ty stayed for a little longer, both of us pretending Adri wasn’t weird.
"I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow at school?" he said, getting up from the chair. "Thanks for the food, Mrs. Medina," he told my mom and patted his stomach.
"Of course."
I walked Ty to the door and watched him put on those massive boots. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he hopped down the stairs and headed over to his place.
A couple of hours later, when Mom had gone to her room, Adri cornered me in the kitchen, where I was getting water before bed.
"You need to be careful, Shrimp," he said cryptically, blocking my way with his arm.
"Careful of what? Your mood swings? Oh wait, it doesn’t swing. Your default setting is pissed."
"I’m serious, Naomi."
"Get out of my way, dude." I flicked my hand at my brother, but he didn’t move.
"What’s going on with you and him, huh?" Adri asked instead. His voice was a little too protective for my taste. "You like him?"
Something in my chest pinched. I wasn’t sure what it was or why it had happened.
"That’s none of your business," I shot back. I could have said no. Could have said Adri was delusional.
He leaned in, intense, like he was interrogating a criminal. "You’re an idiot if you do."
"You’re so immature." I stuck out my tongue at him.
"I mean it, Shrimp."
I glared at him, offended. "And why’s that? Why can’t I do what I want?"
"He’s not serious about you," Adri said. "He never is. He’s just going to—"
"Break my heart?" I finished for him, angry. "Please. You don’t know him like I do. You don’t even talk anymore."
"Or maybe I know him better. That’s why we don’t talk."
I snorted. "Right. Or maybe it’s because you think that now that you’ve graduated, you’re too cool to be friends with high-schoolers." I was being a brat, but Adri deserved it. "What did Ty ever do to you?"
Adri’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t get your hopes up where he’s concerned."
"Whatever." I rolled my eyes again, a real professional teenager. "We hang out, Adri. Deal with it."
He scoffed, not bothering to argue anymore. He just walked away, leaving me to fume. Typical Adri move. It wasn’t like I would listen to my brother anyway.
For the next two days, Adri and I went radio silent. My brother was wrapped up in helping Dad with the truck, so we didn’t really have to collide awkwardly in small talk.
On the second night, I was sprawled across my bed with my journal open, but mostly I was just staring at the Bradys' place. Their windows were dark spots against the night—they’d finally flicked off their lights.
Quietly, I slipped outside into our back yard. The cool grass tickled my toes, damp from the evening air that smelled faintly of impending rain. This summer had been brutal and this rain—we needed it.
Using my secret passage—a loose plank in the old wooden fence—I sneaked to the back alley. Underbrush rustled softly around me as I squeezed through.
A few minutes later, Ty’s silhouette emerged from the shadows. He rushed over, smiling, his hair a mess from getting through his own backyard garden.
The air wrapped around us like a warm, wet blanket as Ty and I headed down the familiar path.
We walked close, shoulder bumping into shoulder occasionally. It’d always been like this. Some level of physical contact was present in our interaction, but tonight, it felt different. Amplified.
I knew the way to our spot in the park even with my eyes closed. We’d been coming here for two years. My sneakers and his boots crunched over the gravel and stomped through the grass until we reached the old bench beneath the giant tree.
Ty seemed a little nervous, not saying much.
"Are you okay?" I asked as we sat down. The wood was worn smooth by people and time, and I leaned back and stared up at the stars.
It felt good to be out in the open with him, away from Adri’s suspicious eyes.
"Just preshow jitters," Ty replied, looking up at the sky too. He absently picked at the wood on the bench. He was quiet for a second, then looked at me. "We’re working on a new setlist," he said.
"Why?"
"I think we’ll add one of the original songs."
"The original from the Coachella Valley Rejects?"
"Yeah."
"It’s gonna be killer," I said supportively.
"You think?" His eyes grew bright, and I saw excitement fill them.
"I know." In my opinion, Tyler Brady could do no wrong. If he thought the crowd was ready to hear his band’s music, then it was so.
"You’re not lying, are you?" he pressed.
"Why would I ever lie to you?" I blurted out. I scooted a little closer, the way I did when we were just friends, but maybe not really.
"So…um…" Ty stammered. "This is nice."
I smiled. "Yeah, no big brothers lurking in the shadows."
He chuckled. "Adri is a dick."
"He is."
"Hey, so your dad’s on board, right? You’ll help with the merch booth?"
"Yeah. He doesn’t mind. Your parents will be there?"
"Yeah." Ty raked his hands through his hair. "Man, I can’t wait to be eighteen. My folks won't have to chaperone me every show."
I laughed. "Tell me about it."
"Aren't you getting your license too?"
"Probably soon. Just haven't had time to study for an exam and Adri's being an ass whenever I ask him to teach me."
"I’ll drive you," Tyler blurted without hesitation. "This guy my dad works with said he’d sell us his old Honda. I’ll be taking you to school."
"Your parents okay with it?"