Chapter Five
Ten Years Prior
I stand in front of Wild’s door, my hand hovering near the knob because I never knock, but something stops me.
He’s been acting weird lately, almost like he doesn’t want to be around me as much anymore.
I bite down on my bottom lip to stop it from trembling because I don’t know what I’d do if he suddenly wanted to stop hanging out.
Wild is my best friend and the only person I can talk to, especially about tomorrow.
The anniversary of my father’s death.
My heart aches at the memory, and before I know it, tears are flying down my face, and I’ve taken a step back from the door.
I’ve also recently started to develop a sort of crush on him, so now I’m feeling a little rejected that he’s not paying me as much attention anymore.
It’s my freshman year in high school and Wild’s sophomore year.
I can see all the female attention he’s getting, especially after this summer, when it seemed like he grew a foot and gained even more muscle from football.
I grew up this summer too, sprouting boobs I never had before and even shapelier legs from tennis.
I’ve gotten some attention from the guys at school, too, and one even asked me out, but Wild shut that down before I even had a chance to say no, thank you.
Something about, “Stay away from my sister or I’ll beat the shit out of you. ”
Is it weird that I swooned just a little?
Ugh, no. Stop it, Halle. He’s your stepbrother.
But it doesn’t stop the butterflies that erupt in my stomach every time he walks into the kitchen in the morning without a shirt or when he brushes past me in the bathroom while I’m washing my face.
The door opens, and he looks surprised to see me there. Then my face is in his hands, and he tilts it upward so I’m staring into my favorite eyes. “Why are you crying in front of my door?”
“I-I’m not.”
He gently drags his thumbs over the apples of my cheeks to wipe my tears and smiles at me. “Looks like you are.”
“I…tomorrow.” I can’t tell him the real reason behind the sudden tears, so I go with the obvious answer.
He pulls me in for a hug and rests his head on top of mine. He’s almost a foot taller than me now, and even taller than his mom, Sara, too. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”
We’ve never gone to school on October seventh, and tomorrow will be no different.
I shrug, still relishing the comfort of his arms around me. “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure you’d want to hang out with me.”
“Who else would I hang out with?”
“I don’t know…” I pull away from him and look up into his eyes.
Eyes that I’ve loved for so long. They’re gray with traces of blue, and sometimes when the sun hits them just right, they have flecks of green.
I’ve never seen eyes like his before, and I spend more time than I care to admit thinking about how pretty they are.
“It seems like you’ve been avoiding me lately.
” I wince, hating that I feel this way or that I care that my stepbrother has been keeping to himself.
He rubs a hand behind his neck and winces. “Saint, that’s not about you.”
I sniffle and do my best to blink the tears away. “It feels like it.”
“I know it does,” he admits, “and I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”
I want to tell him yes because I would forgive him for anything, but I want to know why he’s been distant. “Can you tell me why?”
“It’s just…a guy thing.”
I frown and scrunch my nose. “What does that mean?”
“Something you as a girl wouldn’t understand,” he says with a hint of sarcasm, as if to say, obviously.
“Try me.”
“No.”
I huff. “You’re being a jerk.”
“Because I don’t want to tell you something?”
“We tell each other everything!” I exclaim. At least I thought we did.
“Not this.”
“I don’t like secrets between us.”
“I’m not crazy about it either, but it’s for the best. Believe me,” he says with a wince.
I twist my mouth in confusion because I wonder if it’s something he’s embarrassed to tell me. “I won’t…judge you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I know you won’t.” I’m curious what he could be hiding from me, but my thoughts are interrupted by footsteps on the stairs, and then Sara is walking down the hall toward us. It isn’t lost on me that Wild takes a step back to put space between us, and I briefly wonder what that’s about.
“What’s going on?” she asks with a head tilt to the side as she pushes her square frames into her dark auburn hair. She used to have blond hair, but in the past few years, she started dyeing it for a change, and I love the color on her. She blinks her blue eyes a few times at us, questioning.
“We were just talking about tomorrow,” Wild answers.
“Oh. Yeah, I think I’m going to go to work,” she says, and I’m shocked. “I want to…stay busy.” Sara is a high school teacher—not at the school Wild and I go to, but at another school across town. “And then when I get home, we can do something? Unless you guys want me here in the morning?”
Wild shakes his head. “I’m going to sleep in, I think, and then I have my call with Dr. Rollins at noon,” he says, referring to his therapist.
We’ve gone through quite a few over the years until we finally both settled on the ones we liked. He doesn’t see his as often as I see mine, but he tries to check in with her once a month, especially on days like tomorrow.
“Me too.” I nod.
“Okay.” She pulls us both in for a hug. “I love you guys.”
“Love you too, Mom,” Wild says, and I nod in agreement.
It isn’t that I don’t love Sara. I do. But I’m not as liberal with the L-word as they are.
The first person I ever loved died while she was giving birth to me, and the second person I ever loved died four years later.
I have a complex about what that word means, and I don’t go throwing it around often.
I’ve said it to both Sara and Wild, but not as often as they do, and my reluctance to say it is something I’ve discussed at length in therapy.
The following morning, I wake up to the smell of cinnamon tickling my nose, and when my eyes flutter open, sunlight is streaming through my bedroom window.
It’s a toss-up what the weather would be like in early October.
Sometimes it’s warm and sunny, and other times, it’s rainy and chilly, but it seems like it will be the former today.
I sit up in bed, wondering if Sara decided to stay home instead.
After brushing my teeth and putting a sweatshirt over the tank top I slept in, I make my way down the stairs toward the smell to see Wild standing at the stove in a T-shirt and boxer shorts.
I blink several times at the visual. Not only have I never seen Sebastian Wilder cook anything but toast and that nasty instant mac and cheese that comes in the blue box, but he’s also in his underwear, forcing me to expel the breath I didn’t realize I’ve been holding since I walked into the room.
It isn’t the first time I’ve seen him in them, but it’s the first time I feel those butterflies at the sight.
I’ve watched him grow from a boy into what looks like the beginnings of something…
so not boyish. His hair is still messy from sleep, like maybe he hasn’t been awake long, and my fingers itch to run my hands through it.
Maybe while my lips are on his.
My eyes slam shut briefly while I try to push the fantasy out of my mind, and when I open them, his back is still to me.
“Tell me you’re not going to burn the house down?” I tease as I move through the kitchen, and when he turns around, he gives me a smile that makes my heart skip a beat.
“Does it smell like it?”
I hop on one of the barstools behind the island in the center of the kitchen and prop my head on my fists. “Since when do you cook?”
He shrugs. “I looked up a recipe,” he says, then turns back to the stove. “I know it’s your favorite.”
“You’re cooking for me?”
“Of course, who else?” I get off the stool and make my way toward him, looking down at the almost finished French toast that looks as good as it smells, then back up at him.
Tears prickle in my eyes, and his face falls.
“Please don’t cry. I need to make sure I don’t fuck these up, so I can’t hold you right now. ”
I blink the tears away and wrap my arms around him anyway, instantly comforted by his scent. I breathe him in before taking a step back to watch him finish making us breakfast.
Minutes later, we are sitting at the table eating in relative silence when I broach a somewhat uncomfortable subject. “Have you kissed a girl before?”
He pauses, his fork halfway to his mouth, before he narrows his eyes. “Where’s this coming from?”
“I’m just curious.”
“Yes…have you?” He chuckles.
Jealousy flashes through me, and I do my best to ignore it. “No… and who?”
“Just a few girls. Nothing serious.” I’ve never known Wild to have a girlfriend, so maybe these were just random girls.
He’s pretty popular, way more so than me.
I mean, I’m popular in a “you’re Sebastian’s sister, right?
” kind of way, but he’s the golden boy. The king of the sophomore class.
He’s already been nominated for homecoming court for his grade, and people pretty much assume he’s going to win.
I push my unreasonable jealousy aside. “What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?” he responds, confused.
“To kiss someone?”
“You don’t know?” he asks, and I see a flash of something in his eyes that I don’t recognize before it disappears.
“How could I kiss someone? You scare off any guy who looks at me sideways.”
A smug smile pulls on his lips before he takes a bite of his French toast. “Good, I’m doing my job.”
“No, you’re not. I’m going to die never having been kissed at this rate.” I cross my arms over my chest with a pout.
“Okay, you’re fourteen. Don’t be so dramatic.” He gives me a pointed look that I could only equate to a fatherly scold, based on what I see in movies.
“Wild, this is your fault,” I whine.
He chuckles. “Mine!? What did I do?”