1. Fresh Start
1
Fresh Start
WINTER
NOW
“How much longer?” my crybaby of a boyfriend whines, laying his head on my shoulder and dragging out a long sigh. Watching the clouds ruin my every chance of catching a view through the window, I ignore the tingling of Haze’s breath against my neck and press my cheek to the top of his head. Bouncing his leg like a deprived crack addict, Haze continues to make sleeping impossible for me. He’s been at it since the plane took off.
“The flight’s two hours and forty-five minutes. We left two hours ago. Do I need to teach you basic math, Adams?”
A smirk stretches his lips, and he hooks a finger in one of the belt loops of my jeans, angling his head so that his mouth hits my ear. “Meet me in the bathroom in five and you can teach me anything you want, baby.”
Oh, and he’s also been one hell of a tease.
“Why did I ask you to come with me again?” I slap his hand away.
“Please don’t pretend like this isn’t the happiest day of your life,” he laughs and leans back into his seat. As much as I’m tempted to deny his claims, I know he’s right. This is the happiest day of my life—no matter how much shit I give him for leaving with no luggage, or changing his mind at the last minute, I’m over the moon right now. Haze is coming with me. He’s moving to Canada. Did you hear that, brain?
I don’t think it’ll really sink in until I wake up next to him tomorrow.
“What were you thinking getting on a plane with a dead phone?” I mock. He forgot to charge it last night and clearly didn’t expect to board a plane this morning. Not that I blame him. We were all exhausted after the day we’d had. No one more than me. Almost dying will do that to you. “We have like forty-five minutes left. Try to sleep.”
Haze scoffs. “How the fuck am I supposed to sleep with the apocalypse next to my ear?”
I smother a laugh. Next to us is a sixty-year-old-looking woman whose snores are so loud, we jumped in our seats when she started fifteen minutes ago.
“Hey, do you have mints?” Haze glances at the carry-on bag at my feet.
“Sure.” I reach for my bag.
As soon as I give him what he asked for, his eyes trail to the woman and her wide-open mouth. We can smell her bad breath every time she exhales.
Oh my God.
“Don’t you dare!”
He laughs and throws the mint into his own mouth. “You’re no fun, Mom.”
My eyes divert back to the window. Since we didn’t book our flights at the same time, our seats were in completely different sections. Haze wasn’t having it. He ended up paying some cranky guy who absolutely wanted to keep his seat by the window fifty dollars just to switch seats with him.
“So, what should I expect? Are we going to freeze to death the second we get to Toronto?” he asks, running his fingers up and down my lap.
“What? Of course not. We’re in June. The snow just finished melting.”
“Hold on.” He pauses. “You mean there’s no snow?”
The look of shock on his face sends me into a fit of giggles.
“Nope. Not until November. What did you think? That we had snow all year long or something?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” He shrugs.
“Sure, and we drink maple syrup for breakfast and ride polar bears.”
Haze’s eyes widen. “No way? That’s great. How expensive are igloos this time a year? Rent’s not too high?”
I break into laughter at the awful stereotype that came out of his mouth. Man, this guy needs a lesson on Canada, and he needs it fast.
“What about your folks? Are they okay with us staying with them until we find our own place?”
Relief fills me. We haven’t really talked about our living arrangements in Toronto although moving in together seemed to me like the most logical thing to do. After all, Haze left his entire life behind just so we could be together. I’d hardly see us living separately. I’m glad he feels this way. Because that apartment is not a maybe, it’s a must. There’s no way Lauren, my oh so sweet mother, will let me live at home, let alone with a boyfriend. She’s made it clear before I left for Florida that when I came back, it was time to move out. You’re eighteen now. You’re an adult. Time to act like one.
Harry, the man that I’ve called my dad my whole life, disagrees, convinced that I’ll need all the financial help I can get while I’m in college. I know he’ll put up a fight for me, but my mom will probably end up winning. She always does.
“I’m sure they won’t mind us staying for a few weeks,” I say, the bitter taste of a lie lingering on my tongue.
Truth is, they have no idea Haze is coming.
Simply because they have no idea he exists.
My plan: show up on their doorstep with him and hope to hell they’ll let us stay. We only need a place to crash until we move into an apartment that’ll preferably be close to my school and the job I have yet to find. I would’ve told my mom about him given the opportunity, but I can’t remember the last time I spoke with her. It must’ve been at the beginning of my trip. When exactly was I supposed to slide into our nonexistent conversations that I have a boyfriend?
“Okay, so fill me in on your family drama. What’s the Kingstons’ story?” Haze steadies his elbow on the arm rest and props his chin in the palm of his hand. I smile at his cautious and focused expression.
Crazy to think that, while Haze knows every little stupid detail there is to know about me, he doesn’t know much about my life back home. Knowing my favorite color, first pet’s name, and favorite band doesn’t tell him what’s waiting for him once we get off that plane. Yet, he chose to come with me. We’ve talked about my family a few times in the past. But compared to our conversations about his family, we’ve barely scratched the surface.
“Meh, it’s nothing special, really. Mom had me when she was sixteen. She raised me by herself until she met Harry, my stepfather. They got married. He’d just lost his wife to cancer, and he already had a kid of his own, Jaden, who’s fourteen now. We’re technically not related, but we grew up together, so we consider each other siblings. Then, five years ago, my sister, Maika, was born.”
“So, you and your sister share a mother?” Haze asks.
I nod, omitting to tell him that while we were brought into this world by the same woman, that woman treats us completely differently. With Maika, she’s this caring, sweet mom. With me? Don’t even get me started.
“When my Dad got sent to Seattle for his work, my parents decided to ship me to Maria until I graduated, as you know. My mom followed him, since she’d just been laid off, while Jaden and Maika stayed with their grandma, Harry’s mom. They just got back.”
“Why didn’t you stay at your grandma’s place, too?”
“That’s the thing. She’s not my grandma. She says I’m not her granddaughter since I don’t have Harry’s blood in my veins.”
Haze winces.
“Yep, that’s the usual reaction.” I crack a laugh.
My stepfather’s mother was always narrow-minded. She believes people that get married should spend the rest of their lives together, no matter if they’re happy or not. In her eyes , holy matrimony should be sacred and a vow of eternity. She was always against my father remarrying. They didn’t talk for years when she first told him she’d never see me as her granddaughter as I came from his second marriage. Harry’s dad, on the contrary, is kind and sweet, which, in my opinion, played a big part in his son turning out all right.
Haze reaches for my hand. “And the rest of your family?”
“You already know them. Maria, Kendrick, and Kass. They’re all I have on my mom’s side.”
“What about your mother’s parents?”
“They died before I was born. Car crash. My mom said they wanted to put me into the system. They thought she was too young to take care of a baby.”
Haze keeps quiet for a while, as though he’s trapped in his own thoughts. Then, he speaks.
“Wow, both our families suck.”
I give a faint laugh.
“Tell me about it.”
“Can I ask what happened to your biological father? You know… why he isn’t around?” His tone hints at how hesitant he is. He’s right to be. I usually change the topic whenever someone brings up my sperm donor, but somehow, right now, with Haze’s compassionate blue eyes pointed at me, I don’t want to.
“I don’t know much. My mom said he was one of the bad kids. Came from the wrong side of the tracks. He was nineteen when they met. Then he just took off running the second she told him about me. Like I said, nothing special.” A sharp pain cuts through my chest, and my eyes drop to my feet.
This feeling right here. That’s why. Why I’ve desperately avoided this moment ever since I could talk.
“Hey, look at me.” Haze’s voice is low but firm. “Look at me.”
I finally do.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to kick his ass.”
Smiling, I reach over to place a quick peck on his mouth, which results in Haze pulling me back in for the real deal. His lips move slowly against mine, but just like every damn time he kisses me, my heart wants to come out of my chest and say hi.
“So, your siblings, cute or monsters?” he asks when we pull away for air.
“Maika is definitely cute. And Jay… He hates everyone. Puberty and all. Last I heard, he wasn’t hanging out with the best crowd.”
Haze scoffs. “Look at you. Worried about your brother hanging out with the wrong crowd when you’re practically dating a criminal.”
My mouth drops. “Can you say that any louder?”
“Sure.” The bastard clears his throat, “You’re worried about your brother hanging out with the bad ki—”
Laughing harder than I should, I slam my hand against his mouth. “Are you insane? Do you want them to think we’re trying to hijack the plane?”
As soon as I set his mouth free, his eyes grow as though he’s just realized something.
“About that. I forgot the bomb.”
I don’t think I’ve ever punched him this hard.
A small gasp erupts next to us.
Great. Snoring lady is awake.
“Ouch,” Haze laughs and lifts his hand to his bicep. I hope that leaves a bruise.
“He’s kidding, totally kidding. He’s such a prankster, this one.” I turn to the granny and force a giggle. She doesn’t bother forcing a smile, judgment creasing her forehead. Meanwhile, the idiot next to me is laughing so hard he can barely breathe.
Note to self: Never bring Haze Adams on a plane.
Stuck in a thick crowd of travelers, I stand in line and wait for my hideous floral suitcase to come circling around the baggage carousel. We made it to Toronto, and I even managed not to throw my man out the plane window—unbelievable, I know. The airport is exactly the same as I remember, brimming with nervous people rushing to catch their flights. Haze insists on taking my suitcase as soon as it comes to view.
“Anyone here to welcome you home?” he asks and grabs my hand. Shoulders ram into our side as we make our way through the crowd.
“Not that I know of. My parents are out of town with my siblings for the weekend. They’re coming back tomorrow morning. My dad called me a few days back to apologize. He would’ve been here otherwise.” I find some comfort in the fact that at least one of my parents cared enough to call.
“Your mom didn’t call you?”
“No. She probably had to work.”
He scoffs. “Damn right she does. On her priorities.”
I chuckle and Haze pulls me closer, feathering my forehead with kisses. Calm seeps into me. Haze is here. With me. In my home country. I still can’t believe it. We turn the corner, and all these good feelings come flying out the window when I look ahead of me.
And see him.
My heart drops.
He’s standing a few feet away from us. With his hands buried in his pockets and his black hair cascading down his tanned face, he glances around, searching, analyzing. He seems to be waiting for someone.
No, no, no. Don’t tell me that someone’s me.
He hasn’t changed one bit, the exact same guy he was when we said goodbye. The promise we made before I left eats at me. I didn’t think he’d keep his word. That he’d actually come and pick me up on the day I came back. He made me that promise before we fought. Before I left. Before that night, and most importantly, before I met Haze.
Like he’s on a timer, his head snaps up and he notices us. At first, he smiles. Then, he frowns. Because I’m not alone. My first instinct is to run, yet, my feet bring me closer to him. To the guy I didn’t think would ever be a part of my life again.
Intending to meet us halfway, the ghost from my past edges his way through the crowd, his footsteps slow but determined. He stops in front of us, and his eyes sway from Haze to me for a few unbearably long seconds.
“Winter, finally.”
“Hey,” I barely say.
“Who’s this?” Haze asks.
I try to speak but the words escape me. Witnessing my struggle, he beats me to it, holding out his hand to Haze.
“Hi, I’m Caleb. Winter’s boyfriend.”