Chapter 18 River
Eighteen
River
May
When the bell rang, I left chemistry and walked casually to the drinking fountain outside the band room. I pretended to take a sip while checking around to make sure no one was paying attention, then slipped inside.
Holden was already there, lounging sideways on a long table. Light filtered in from slats in a lone, high window, glinting in his silvery hair.
“You’re late,” he drawled, swinging around so that both legs hung off the table.
I wasn’t late; Holden was just being Holden, a sexy, infuriating brat I couldn’t get enough of.
My pulse kicked up as the scent of cloves, cologne, and expensive clothing wafted to me.
“New coat?” I asked.
“Just yesterday,” he said as I moved into the V of his legs. I rested my hands on his thighs, squeezing slightly, feeling the muscles beneath. His green eyes dilated in the dimness. “Cop a feel.”
Everything with Holden was a come-on, an insinuation, or a dare. I touched the cuff of his coat—wool and cashmere—that probably cost more than all the clothes in my closet.
“Nice.”
“You like it? It’s made out of boyfriend material.”
I groaned at the bad joke and then groaned again as I kissed him hard.
Deeply. It seemed all our kisses lately were deeper.
More intense. Our nights spent in his guesthouse were a delirium of tangled limbs, sweat-soaked sheets, and grasping hands.
We hadn’t done everything, but every lust-fueled touch felt embedded into my skin.
Because our time is almost up.
Holden stiffened and pulled back. He felt it too, the clock ticking down.
“So where are we going tonight?” he asked. “Another car show? Maybe a monster truck rally?”
I rolled my eyes. “We went to one fucking car show.”
“And yet the experience felt so interminable, it scarred me for life.”
I chuckled. “I learned my lesson. There’s a meteor shower happening tonight. I thought we’d go to the top of Hilton Bluff and watch.”
Holden pursed his lips, his sharp eyes filled with thoughts. Over the last few months, it’d grown harder for us to come up with places to go where no one from school or town would see us. Every day, I waited for Holden to get sick of hiding and curse me out. I wondered if this was the day.
“Why not go up to San Francisco?” he said. “James can drive us, and I’ll bribe our way into a gay club in the Castro. We can dance, get stupid, and be with our people.”
“I can’t dance,” I reminded him.
Except for prom.
I was still going to prom with Violet McNamara, despite both of us being with other people. But she and Miller Stratton had an agreement, and I didn’t question it. It curdled my stomach to admit, but I still needed her.
I waited for Holden to dig at me for that too, but he didn’t.
“I know you can’t dance,” he said. “That’s the point. You trying to dance is what makes it entertaining for me.”
I laughed. “Clubs are not my thing. Too loud. I wouldn’t be able to talk to you.”
“Oh my God.” Holden pressed his face against my chest. “It’s been months, Whitmore. You’ve seen me naked a hundred times. There is no need to keep saying sweet, River-esque things to woo me. You did it. I’ve been wooed.”
I gripped him by the nape of his neck and gently but firmly tilted his mouth to mine. “You talk too much.”
“Says the guy who claims he wants to talk to me.”
“I want to do both. Kiss you and talk to you.”
“Under a glittering meteor shower no less,” Holden said, and our lips brushed. “You’re a softy. A pillow. A grilled cheese sandwich.”
I kissed him silent, and the flame that burned between us flared instantly. Holden hauled my hips against his and slid his hand over the erection straining my jeans. He started to undo the button, but I took a step back.
“Can’t. This is a short break. Save it for tonight.”
Our mouths had been everywhere on each other, but my body was getting impatient for more. I knew Holden was too, but he never complained, never pressured, never cracked a joke. But in his bed, I felt the tension under his skin and saw the need in his eyes.
Maybe tonight’s the night.
I didn’t give it more thought than that. I only wanted to do what we were both ready for. That Holden was more experienced didn’t mean anything to me. Whoever he’d been with before didn’t know who they had. But I did.
“Should I have James drive?” he asked.
“Nope, I’ll pick you up at ten.”
We kissed a final time—rough and raw, Holden trying to coerce me with his tongue to stay and let him have his way with my cock. But I broke the kiss and laughed as he snapped at me with his teeth.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
I slipped out of the band room, checking first to make sure the coast was clear. Holden would follow me out a minute later.
It wasn’t our perfect life, but it was the best I could do.
***
At home that afternoon, I took the stairs up two at a time and knocked on Mom’s door.
“Come in,” she called, her voice soft and breathy.
In March, she’d had good news that her latest cocktail of meds was holding the cancer at bay.
But lately she’d been tired a lot and losing weight when she didn’t have weight to lose.
Dad was taking her in for more scans in a few days, but a pall hung over the house.
She wasn’t supposed to have made it to Christmas, but we were all terrified that her extra time had come to an end.
Mom lay against her pillows, swimming in a silky bathrobe. Her hair was short, like a marine. I liked to tell her she looked like Charlize Theron’s character, Furiosa, in Mad Max: Fury Road and was just as much of a badass.
Amelia was sitting on the bed with her.
“I can come back,” I said.
“No, it’s fine. Join us,” Mom said. “Tell us about your day.”
I met my secret boyfriend in the band room like we’ve been doing for months.
I coughed. “Not much to say. I’m supposed to be at the shop today, but I can stay home if you need me.”
“I’m fine. Dazia will be here literally any minute.”
Mom’s best friend coming had become like a portent of doom; Dazia was an infusion of energy the family desperately needed but only arrived when Mom was at her sickest.
“In that case, I was thinking of seeing a late movie with some guys tonight,” I said. “Might be home late.”
“Again?” Amelia was suddenly curious. “You’ve been staying out late a lot lately, River. What’s that all about?”
I stiffened, not looking at her. She’d been making strange remarks like that for weeks.
“River’s eighteen,” Mom said. “He’s a man now, going out and doing manly things.”
I choked out a nervous laugh. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you’re an adult, about to graduate. As long as you live under this roof, there are rules of course, but—”
“Are you saying he doesn’t have a curfew anymore?” Amelia demanded. “Because that is so unfair.”
“He has a curfew,” Mom said, shooting me a wink. “It’s to come home one minute before his parents start to worry.”
Amelia huffed and crossed her arms. “Oh my God, that is sexism at work. He leaves the house when I have to go to bed.”
“When you’re eighteen, things will be different for you.” Mom tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Or maybe not. Your father might make your curfew 6:00 p.m. to keep the boys away.”
Amelia wouldn’t be eighteen for another three and a half years. God knew what our family would be like then, without Mom, and Dad trying to raise a teenage daughter alone.
The room grew quiet, and Amelia muttered something about needing to do homework. She kissed our mother on her wan cheek and hurried out.
“I shouldn’t have joked about it. It’s hard for her and will get harder.” Mom raised her tired blue eyes to mine. “I want you to do me a favor, River.”
I braced myself. Whatever she asked me to do, I’d do it. “Anything.”
“You’re the rock in the family.”
“Pretty sure that’s you, Mom.”
“If so, I’m passing it down to you. You’re solid and clearheaded and so very smart. You take care of everyone, and I know that’s what you’re going to do when I’m not here anymore.”
“I’ll do my best. I swear it.”
“That’s not the favor I’m asking. That’s a prediction.
” Mom smiled gently. “I know you, my sweet boy. I know you will do whatever it takes to make sure the family stays together. Your dad and sister are strong. They’re going to be okay.
You are going to be okay. I feel it in my heart. But when the tough moments come—”
“There’re going to be a lot of those,” I said, my eyes filling. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re kind of a big deal.”
Mom touched my cheek. “I know you’ll do your best to hold everyone together. What I’m asking is that you don’t forget about you. That you take time for yourself. Remember to breathe. To cry if you have to.”
My tears spilled over as my chest hitched. I felt her hand in mine give me a frail squeeze.
“Promise me, River.”
I nodded and held my breath to keep the sobs from pouring out. I clenched my teeth and wiped my eyes on the shoulder of my shirt.
When I looked up, Mom was lying heavily against the pillows. “It’s the hardest thing. Not dying. That’s easy because it’s inevitable. The hardest thing is feeling like I’m leaving you behind.”
“Then how about you don’t?” I teased weakly. Brokenly.
“I won’t,” Mom said. “I’ll still be with you. Always.”
From the downstairs entry, the front door slammed. “Hellooo, Whitmores! Aunty Dazia is here.”
“Go,” Mom said. “Have fun with your friends. Who did you say you were hanging out with? I haven’t heard you mention Chance or Donte or any of the guys in a while.”
“I hung out with them last weekend.”
Cursory time spent with the guys to keep up appearances. Donte was hot and heavy with a new girlfriend, taking the pressure off me. But eating at the Burger Barn or walking the boardwalk, listening to their inane talk instead of being with Holden, was torture.
“No one special yet?” She smiled softly. “No pressure. I’m just…hopeful.”
I swallowed a lump and took a breath. Now was the time to tell her about Holden. What other time could there be?
“Well…”