Chapter 29 Tyler [The Past]
Her cheeks went pink when we first walked in. Not from makeup but from nerves and the heat of the moment. I'd never seen her so shy, so unsure of herself. Of me. But I guess there was a first time for everything.
The sheets were as white as the stars in the desert sky, and she was even brighter. I watched her in awe as I helped her out of that silver dress, my hands trembling like a novice, my heart pounding out a teenage love song.
The room smelled of clean linens and our breathless anticipation, with the faint perfume of flowers that drifted in from Naomi's hair. We laughed, nervous and young, consumed by the thrill of finally being alone.
There was always the garage, but Naomi Medina deserved better than that.
She was the kind of girl you wanted to impress.
So I did it right—I booked us a suite at a nice hotel in downtown Palm Springs.
I spent all the savings I made working at The Gobbler on it and her wrist corsage.
It was a light blue rose to match her shoes, and she looked stunning wearing it.
Of course, both families, despite the lingering tension, gathered on the sidewalk and had us pose in front of both houses. Even Adri was there for some parts of it, grimacing and giving me death stares while Jose took endless photos of his daughter and me with his Sony Cyber-shot.
Then I told my old man in secret that I wouldn’t be coming back home tonight. He nodded with that quiet understanding in his eyes and promised to make sure Mom wouldn’t be worried.
I remember the softness of her skin, how I couldn't stop touching her, like she'd disappear if I didn't hold on tight.
It was awkward and beautiful—our first time. The way we fumbled and laughed, the way I held her, scared to death and sure this was it. I'd never felt so much all at once. Desire and love and this crazy idea that we'd be like this forever.
And after it was over, we stayed wrapped up in the sheets in the hotel room, in each other, as the world fell away.
I still felt the tremor in my fingers when I took her hand, when I drew her into me while forgetting how to breathe.
Our voices were whispers, nervous and sweet, naming futures we hadn't lived yet.
Her warmth, her touch, her voice promising LA forever and always.
I could still feel all of it, a soft explosion under my skin, echoing through me like the music that ran wild and free through my veins.
This morning, we had breakfast at the cafe near the hotel. It was busy and loud and hot, but I didn’t notice any of that. We sat in the corner, away from the heaviest foot traffic, holding hands on the table and staring at each other. And my world was complete.
Daylight was strong when we drove back. I gripped the wheel with one hand and the other sat in Naomi's lap, our fingers laced together.
We parked in the small empty lot off the main road and kissed under a hot sky that seemed to stretch forever.
After, she leaned against me as her hair got caught in the wind.
"Can't believe we're really doing this," she said.
"You, me, and LA," I told her. "No one can stop us."
We gazed at the horizon, and the world was just us and the future, our dreams rolling out like a map of places where we'd be together.
"Maybe we should live somewhere with a pool." She giggled. "So I can tan all year long."
"You'd be too distracting," I teased, but the idea thrilled me.
She tucked herself closer, and we made more plans. Even the ruthless summer heat couldn't stop us from fantasizing.
The next week, we didn’t see each other as much.
Naomi was spending time with her family, packing, and preparing for our trip.
At times, I wondered if maybe she was reconsidering her plans because the Medinas were relentless with their advice and endless with their reasons why she shouldn’t go with me.
But I knew she'd follow her heart. I knew she'd follow me.
We wouldn't give up on this, not after how far we'd come.
Our bodies were the only true luggage we needed, the only certainty, the only guarantee, and I knew wherever we ended up, it would be the right place. I'd play my guitar on the streets of LA if I had to. I'd do anything for us.
The promise of it burned through me in the days before our scheduled departure from Sageview Ridge. And then Adri fucked it all up.
The garage was an oven that day. My duffel bags were open and empty on the floor, my guitar case waiting like the loyal friend it was. Sweat trickled down my spine as I worked, but I didn’t care. The heat felt good, real.
My Honda was ready. I’d had the oil checked and the filters changed.
I was folding the clothes—my old leather jacket and shirts and jeans that Naomi liked on me.
Everything seemed so much smaller now, like it shrunk along with the house and the life we were leaving behind.
I grabbed CDs, some memorabilia, a few posters I wasn’t sure I needed.
But they felt like a part of me. I figured it was just paper, so why not?
I was zipping up one of my bags when a shadow fell into the garage through the open door.
I looked up and saw Adri standing right outside.
"What’s up?" I asked. I saw no reason to be hostile. Yes, he was an ass, but he was Naomi’s brother. Even though I didn’t need his approval, I secretly wanted it.
Adri walked in without a word, his eyes scanning my half-packed bags like they were a volcano eruption in progress. "You're really going through with this?" he asked, crossing his arms.
The tension was coming off him like heat from the pavement. "What's it look like?" I shot back, stuffing my socks into another bag.
"You're making a mistake."
"Naomi's ready to go. You can't stop us." The words came out tough, but his stare was tougher.
"She's got a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Strings." He hadn’t called me that in forever, and it felt nice hearing him say the nickname he himself gave me.
"That's for her to decide." I kept my hands busy, more to hide the frustration building up inside me. "She's old enough to know what she wants."
"What she wants?" Adri laughed. A short, hard sound. "You're dragging her to LA to chase your empty rockstar dreams. She’ll be a waitress, and you’ll end up playing on street corners."
"Fuck you, Adri." His doubt stung more than his hate toward me. "This isn't about me. It’s about us. Naomi knows what she’s getting into."
I grabbed my guitar case and let the silence thicken, hoping he'd give up and leave. Instead, he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine.
"If you really care about her," he said, his voice tight and angry, "you’ll let her do what’s best for her. You’ll let her go to the culinary camp, where she can actually meet the right people and gain the right experience to end up at a good school."
The air was electric, and I could hear the low rumble of traffic from the highway in the distance, like the countdown to an explosion. "You don't get to decide that," I snapped. "You're not her fucking father."
He moved fast, faster than I expected, grabbing my arm. "That’s right. I’m not, but it’s my job to take care of her. To make sure she’s not making stupid mistakes."
"Is that what you think this is?" I pulled away, my pulse loud and raw in my ears.
"Yes. She's giving up everything for you." He rubbed a hand over his face, looking older than I’d ever seen him. "You’re leaving her with nothing."
I froze, my anger boiling up. "You don’t know what you’re talking about. You think everyone’s gonna end up like you, like this piece of shit town. Stuck and going nowhere."
He flinched as if I'd hit him. His eyes were darker, more intense, and I knew I’d cut deep. Too deep, maybe. But I didn’t care. Adri Medina had it coming.
"You think you can just waltz into our lives and take whatever you want?"
There was a beat of silence. Adri’s jaw was clenched tight, as if he was restraining himself from saying more.
I looked at him for a second. Then my gut churned at the realization.
"You're jealous? Is that it?"
A muscle twitched just below his eye. "I’m not doing this with you, Brady."
"Like hell you're not. You don’t want me to go, because it means she’s won, and you lost. You think I don’t see how fucking selfish and small of a person you really are? Trying to ruin it for her because I chose her."
His hands curled into fists, but he didn't move. I thought he was going to hit me, but his next words came out cold and controlled. "I’m trying to do what’s right for my sister."
I shook my head. "You can’t stand to see her happy. It pisses you off."
The afternoon light sliced through the garage, carving us into hard shadows. I could see how badly he wanted to get in my face, make me see things his way. But it wasn’t going to happen.
"She'll regret this, Brady. You’re setting her up for a fall."
We were talking about Naomi, but I could see the old wounds in his eyes, the ones he didn’t want to discuss. The ones that ruined our friendship.
"This isn't about you." I heard my voice shake, and I hated it.
"She needs to figure things out for herself, not follow you like a lost puppy."
"We made this decision together. So fuck off."
He took a long breath. "If you love her, really love her, you’ll let her have her chance. You’ll do what’s best for her future, not yours."
The words hit like a punch to the solar plexus. Like he’d yanked the rug out from under me, and everything I thought I knew was collapsing.
"I have a pretty good idea of what's best for her," I muttered back, unsure.
"Do you?" He paused. "You’re betting it all on a pipe dream."
"She wants to be with me."
"She’s confused. This summer could change her life, and you’re too wrapped up in your stupid goals to see that."
"Her dreams and mine are the same."
Adri shook his head, and I felt something twist inside. Like maybe I’d lost before I even knew I was playing. "You're saying I’m selfish, Ty. But you’re the one who’s selfish here. You always have been. Think about what I told you. Don’t drag Naomi down with you."
I wanted to fight, to make him understand, but the certainty in his voice ate away at my defenses.
I watched him walk away, his back straight as if he’d won. As if he knew I’d give in and do what he said.
I felt empty and full of doubt. Everything I believed was suddenly slipping through my fingers. Maybe he was right, maybe I was destroying her life.