TWENTY-THREE
M y ears are ringing by the time prom wraps up at eleven.
We only had one projectile vomiter, which our fellow chaperones deem a huge win.
“Nori texted me. She said Ollie’s is a little boring,” I tell Renner as we climb into the car. When he gives me a funny look, I’m quick to add, “Not that I don’t want to go over. I really want to go. I’m not ready to go home yet. Are you?”
Great. Now I’m babbling. This is new. I’ve never felt nervous or tongue-tied around Renner before. But after our almost-kiss on the dance floor, it’s like we’ve been tethered by an elastic band. And that band is now tight, wrought with tension. I wonder if he feels it too. Either way, I’m too much of an awkward potato to be alone with him much longer. Plus, I need a distraction from today.
Renner studies me. “You okay, Char?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seem a little ... off. More off than usual. And that’s saying a lot,” he adds teasingly.
“My dad died,” I say suddenly.
Renner does a double take, jaw falling open. “What?”
“Today when I saw Kassie ... she told me the last time she saw us was at his funeral. Last year.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “Fuck. Really?”
I nod.
“That explains why ...” He runs his hand over his beard. “My mom said something about how cute it was that your mom is walking you down the aisle. I didn’t even think—” He pauses, frantic. “Are you okay? You know what? We should just go home.”
“No.”
“Char, you just found out your dad died. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You shouldn’t have had to put on a happy face at prom—”
“No. Really, it’s fine. I mean ... I cried in public over it. I don’t really have anything left,” I say honestly, grimacing at the memory of Kassie comforting me on the sidewalk. “If anything, I feel worse for my sisters. They knew him better than I did. I haven’t talked to him—really talked to him—in forever.”
“It doesn’t make it any less difficult.”
“Maybe I’m just in shock. Maybe there’s a part of me that still feels like this isn’t real, you know? Like we’ll magically go back to seventeen and forget all this ever happened.”
He contemplates, eyes trained out the windshield. “Maybe ...”
“I killed the mood, didn’t I?”
“No! Not at all.”
I give him a look.
“I mean, okay. You totally did. Your dad dying is kind of ...” He waves his hand, summoning the words.
“Tragic? Rock-bottom depressing?” I offer.
“To say the least.”
“Can we just ... not talk about it tonight?” I ask, turning away from the pity in his eyes. The last thing I need is him treating me like I’m breakable.
“Sure thing. We could even ... have fun ... if you want to?” he offers, earnestly.
“I want to,” I say eagerly, clamping my eyes shut when the words come out. Should I really be out having fun after finding out my dad died? Probably not. But my brain still isn’t ready to process it.
“All right.” He purses his lips as he makes an effortless, one-handed turn toward Ollie’s neighborhood. He’s taken his suit jacket off, revealing a dress shirt pushed up to the elbows. His ropy forearms flex with the slightest turn of the wheel. “Brace yourself.”
“For what?”
“For the funnest night of your life,” he tells me confidently, reminding me he’s still seventeen years old inside, despite the fact that he now looks like a Greek god chiseled from stone.
“And what do you consider fun?”
“Dunno. Car hide-and-seek?”
“Car hide-and-seek,” I repeat. The last time we played, Renner and I got in a huge argument. Kassie and I were in her car, and Renner and Pete were in his van, racing to find Ollie and Andie’s hiding spot. Renner claims he won because he was first to reach the car, even though Kassie and I entered the parking lot first.
“What? Beats heading home to drink Sleepytime tea,” he teases.
I give him a funny look. “Hey, don’t knock Sleepytime tea. That’s the good stuff. And do you really think thirty-year-olds will want to play car hide-and-seek at eleven at night?”
Thirty-year-olds do, indeed, want to play car hide-and-seek. Then again, I’m fairly certain most people would follow Renner into a multilevel marketing scheme if they could.
Renner is fired up, drumming the steering wheel and tapping his knee impatiently as we wait for Ollie and Nori to text their first clue. He decides to stop at the Wendy’s drive-thru in the meantime.
“Want anything?” he asks as we pull up to the illuminated menu.
“Just fries, please.”
“What can I get you?” barks a scratchy, deep voice over the intercom. Whoever it is sounds like they could use a bubble bath, a meditation tape, and a good night’s rest.
Renner shoots me a funny smile. “Hey, how you doing tonight?”
“Um ... okay,” the voice responds, taken aback.
“Good. Nice night, huh? I’m sure you’re looking forward to the end of your shift.”
“Yeah, actually. I get off in an hour.” The voice is smoother now.
“Cool. Well, I hope you have a great night. Before your shift ends, I’d like to order a medium chocolate Frosty and a large fry, please.”
“Sure thing. Drive up to the second window.”
The person on the intercom turns out to be a woman in her forties. She looks like she needs her chakras balanced by Kassie. Still, she manages to put a small smile on her face as Renner pays for our order.
“I gave you a large Frosty instead,” she tells Renner, handing it over with a small, grease-stained brown bag.
“Hey, thanks, Stacy,” he says, eyeing her name tag. “You have yourself a good night.”
“How do you do that?” I ask, shooting Renner a pointed look as he dumps the hot bag in my lap.
“Do what?”
I wave my hand vaguely in his direction as I stuff my hand in the bag. “Whatever magic you do with people.”
He pulls into a parking space ahead. “You mean like being a decent human?”
I chew off the end of the first fry. “Yeah. How do you do it? You made that woman’s night.”
“Customer service sucks. I’m sure she’d rather be at home with her family, if she has one. If I have the luxury of going home, why not try to raise her spirits?” He asks like it’s a no-brainer. Something everyone should just do.
My heart twinges as I consider. I’ve seen Renner’s magic at work all of high school. He’s often used his charm on teachers so he could get away with doing the bare minimum in class. I always harbored jealousy because I assumed it was purely for personal gain. But maybe I was wrong.
My breath hitches when he reaches over the console and digs his hand into my fries. “Hey, get your own fries.”
“You have to share with your doting fiancé,” he teases. I watch as his ice-cream-dipped fry disappears behind his lips. I turn away as heat gathers between my legs. I work at an ice cream store, and soft-serve never looks this enticing.
Before that thought burrows too far into my mind, my phone vibrates.
Nori: Hint—Pete Takedown .
I angle it so Renner can read.
“The ball field,” we shout in unison. This is an easy one. In tenth grade, Pete was famously tackled there by a police officer after an elaborate prank. He stuffed ripped-out pages of a corner store porn magazine into all the mailboxes along the street. The incident ended up on the cover of the local paper. It was all anyone could talk about for weeks.
Renner speeds through Maplewood’s old, empty streets, while I shout directions in his ear and pass him fries. With each turn, I’m besieged with flashbacks of that morning in his van picking up prom decor. Only this time, being with Renner doesn’t feel like punishment.
Apparently, we’re a great navigational team. We arrive just seconds before Lainey and Pete.
Renner gives me an enthusiastic high five. “Good job, navigator.” He flashes me an adorable wink, and I promptly stuff a handful of fries in my mouth as the heat prickles down my back. I crank the AC and notice that my mouth is set in the slightest smile. Logically, it feels wrong to smile hours after finding out Dad is dead. Things have never been worse, and yet, I’m happy. I don’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else. It’s strange how these two things can exist in parallel.
“All right, your turn to hide,” Nori says, pointing to our car.
“It’s on.” Ollie points dramatically to Lainey and Pete’s vehicle. “Make it a tough one,” he shouts toward us from his car.
Renner and I drive down Main Street, brainstorming possible hiding spots.
“I feel like it has to be somewhere new. To throw them off,” I suggest.
He strokes his chin in contemplation. “How about Walnut Creek? Me and the guys used to fish there sometimes. They might actually catch on depending on the clue. And there’s a lot of tree coverage to hide the car. Fry me.” He leans over as I slip a fry between his lips.
I take in a breath and shift my gaze to the window. “That works. What’s our hint?”
Renner shrugs, eyes fixed on the dark road ahead. “Dunno. You’re the brains of this operation.”
I drum my fingers on my thigh. “How about good fats ? Since nuts and fish are full of fat?”
Renner raises his brow. “That’s ... abstract. You really think they’ll guess that?”
“Okay, fine. Something simpler ... How about nuts about fishing ?”
“I like it.”
It’s pitch black when we pull into the Walnut Creek parking lot. A thick, spooky expanse of dense woods closes in on either side. Renner pulls into a little private clearing with a partial view of the water.
He kills the ignition and reaches into my lap for another fry, lingering as he tries to locate one at the bottom of the near-empty container. I wonder what it would be like if his hand shifted to my thigh. I let the visual consume me for all of two seconds before tossing the traitorous fantasy out the window into the cool night breeze.
I cross and uncross my limbs, distracted by his charming smile, and I have no idea where to avert my gaze. I frown at him. “Please don’t smile at me like that.”
His smile broadens, and I feel like he can read my mind despite his innocent little shrug. “What’s wrong with smiling? You don’t like smiling?”
I shield my eyes. “You sound like Buddy the Elf.”
He places a hand over his chest. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“And your teeth are distracting,” is all I can think to say.
“My teeth?”
I fold up the greasy fry bag and roll it into a ball, setting it on the ground at my feet. “They’re very white.”
He closes his mouth, but his grin lingers. “Sorry. I’ll abandon my strict oral hygiene routine if it’ll make you feel better.”
“It will make me feel better.”
He smiles. “Fine.”
“Fine,” I say, intent on getting the last word.
We stare at the dock for a while. It’s quiet, save for the shift of fabric as Renner settles and resettles in his seat, unable to sit still. Since we parked, he’s moved the window up and down at least three times.
“Guess our clue wasn’t that easy,” he finally says.
“No. It was super obvious. But it’s only been, like, ten minutes. Give them some time. If they don’t get here in fifteen, we’ll fire off another hint.”
“I’m gonna stretch my legs,” he says, getting out of the car and strolling toward the dock. He sits on the edge and stares into the smooth blackness of the creek.
I could use some fresh air too. The uncalled-for fantasies are clouding my head. I follow him into the cool night, onto the swaying dock. I don’t speak as I sit next to him. Our thighs are just barely touching, though I can still feel the heat from his body.
It smells a little like swamp, but the croak of nature soothes whatever strange energy has been flowing between us.
“Can I ask you a question?” Renner finally asks.
“Sure, at your own peril.” I straighten my shoulders, bracing myself for a dumb joke or insult.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much do you want to push me in the creek?” he asks.
I take in a breath, pretending to be offended. “About a solid six. Drowning is way too basic, though. And it’s a relatively quick death—” My breath hitches when I realize what I’ve just said. Renner freezes too, awaiting my reaction. “Oof. I went there and brought up death already.”
“Yes, yes you did.”
We watch each other for a few breaths before simultaneously bursting out in laughter. Strangely, laughing my ass off feels much more relieving than crying.
“Why must I be so morbid?” I manage, gripping the dock for support with one hand, and clutching my now-sore stomach with the other.
“Hey, there’s something to be said for dark humor. Speaking of, glad to know you’d draw out my suffering as long as you could.”
“Yeah. Casual torture seems like a good starting point for you. But I’m trying to work on being a team player, so I’m open to suggestions,” I note.
“Whatever you do, just don’t do that one where you make me listen to some annoying song over and over for seventy-two hours.”
“Look, it’s the only way to force you to learn the proper lyrics. I think ‘Baby Shark’ is sure to push you over the edge.”
He snorts. “Sheesh. You really hate me.” In the moonlight, I see a slight crease in his forehead.
Our eyes snag and my shoulders drop. “I don’t hate you, Renner.” And it’s the truth. Regardless of how much he’s impeded my bucket list, I’ve never truly hated him.
“Well, you severely dislike me. Every time I walk into a room, you get this look on your face like you’re using every last bit of strength not to end my life.”
I cover my eyes with my hands. “Are you saying I have a murderous face?”
“Yes. Yes, you do.” He pretends to inch away from me.
“You’ve been known to drive me to homicidal rage.”
“See? Exactly my point.”
I shrug. “For the record, this is just my face. I don’t mean to make you fear for your life. But to answer your question, I guess it all started when you stood me up at homecoming for another girl.”
He tilts his head. “Wait. What? I never stood you up for another girl.”
“I beg to differ.”
“But I didn’t. I had a family situation,” he explains, brows knit.
“Then why would Kassie tell me you were seeing Tessa from Fairfax?”
“I don’t even know a Tessa.”
I blink, eyeing him suspiciously. “Then why would Kassie lie to me?”
“I don’t know,” he says, frowning. There’s a flash of anger in his eyes. “But it was a complete lie. Maybe she was trying to get back at me for turning her down.”
“You turned her down? When?”
“After we first met. I wasn’t interested in her that way, and I told her straight up the next day. This was right before school started. Before she even met Ollie.”
I nod. I still remember Kassie, clear as day, telling me she wasn’t interested in him after their make-out session. “But she always tells me everything,” I say, catching myself midsentence. “I mean ... at least she used to.”
Renner runs a hand through his hair. He has a horrified expression, as though someone’s just punted a baby across a field of AstroTurf. “I’m telling you the truth, Char. I turned her down. Not the other way around. And I never stood you up for someone else.”
I’m stunned into silence, trying to come up with a logical explanation. When I think back, she and Ollie started flirting immediately during that welcome assembly. Maybe she was doing it to make Renner jealous. But believing Renner over Kassie feels unnatural. Then again, this whole situation is unnatural.
“To be fair, I could only go off what Kassie told me,” I say, raising my shoulders in defense.
“You really hated me all this time because Kassie lied and told you I was into someone else? Wild. All this time we could have—”
I hold my hand up to stop him from continuing. “All right, slow your roll. I’ll have you know I had other reasons.”
“Like what?”
I realize that all my other reasons seem ridiculously petty, and I look away. “I don’t know, Renner. I guess it was also all the little things along the way. Mostly because you’re annoyingly likable.”
He gives me an adorable, knowing look. “Oh, come on. People like you too.”
“Not in the same way. I have to work so hard to make people like me.”
“Honestly, I do try. Harder than you think.”
I think about the Wendy’s cashier. The exchange just seemed so natural for him. “Are you saying your charm isn’t some generational family witch curse?”
He laughs. “Sadly, no. Actually, I have a phobia of people not liking me. Like, Mrs.Webber, the school librarian, hated my guts in ninth grade after I messed up her bookshelves. And it took me years of groveling, giving her compliments, and bringing her those magazines to make her like me.”
“Why go to all that effort? If people don’t like you, it’s on them.”
“Dunno. I’ve always been that way. Ever since my sister ...” His voice trails.
I hang my head. When Kassie first met Renner, she told me how his little sister passed away when we were ten. She’d gotten hit by a car playing outside. It’s kind of an unspoken thing that no one brings up. To be honest, I’d almost forgotten. “I’m so sorry, Renner. What was her name?”
“Susie,” he says affectionately. “She had the cutest laugh. The biggest smile. It’s been seven years and sometimes it feels like yesterday. I can still hear my mom screaming in the middle of the street, holding her.” He pauses. “Well, I guess it’s been more like twenty years if we’re thirty.”
I grit my teeth, trying to find the appropriate words. But there are none.
He continues. “That’s why I couldn’t do the prom errands the other day. It was the anniversary of her death and my parents usually do something in her memory and—”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“No, I feel like I have to. It’s actually the reason I didn’t show up to homecoming. My mom was having a really bad night. She knew I was supposed to go to the dance but I just couldn’t leave her.”
I let that settle for a few moments. All this time, I assumed he’d ditched me because he didn’t want me as his date. “Knowing that would have changed everything.” I think he knows it too.
“Yeah. Well, you didn’t want to know. And to be fair, I don’t think I was ready to talk about it at that time.”
“I don’t blame you at all.”
He runs a hand across the back of his neck. “No. You should. I handled it ... terribly.”
I shrug. “You handled it like a fourteen-year-old boy. I mean, losing your little sister ... I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been.”
“The hardest part is thinking about what she could have been. She enjoyed life, laughed constantly at every little thing. I guess I feel obligated to fill that void. Like making my parents laugh, like she did, is the only way to make them happy again.”
His admission makes my heart hurt. It’s like the last piece of the Renner puzzle sliding into place. After four years of not understanding this person, of assuming he had everything easy, I finally get him. His larger-than-life personality makes sense now. And it makes me like him even more. “Renner ...”
“I still remember, a couple months after the funeral, my parents were just zombies. Going through the motions of the day. I made some dimwit joke and they laughed. Like, really laughed. For the first time since she died. Since then, I’ve just felt like it’s my job to keep them happy. Though happy isn’t the right word. They were functioning, mostly.” The pain in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s like he’s dropped his walls entirely, for me. As sad as the circumstances are, I feel grateful that he’s sharing this with me. “When I saw my mom happy that first morning, and then later at Ollie’s, it threw me. Because I didn’t know she could be like that again.”
“She really did look happy.”
“I don’t know how much of it has to do with Jared. But if he’s any part of it, I can’t be mad at that. I guess I just feel shitty that I couldn’t make her happy myself.”
“Don’t say that. You do make her happy. And even if you didn’t, you can’t make everyone you meet like you. Well—I mean, maybe you can. But you shouldn’t have to.”
He shrugs. “It’s just this weird compulsion. I can’t stop. Like, even after Susie died, my parents made me see a therapist. And I even tried to impress her by telling her how great I was doing all the time. And today, I bought vegetables at the grocery store just to impress people.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know ... random shoppers. The cashier. I have no idea how to even prepare vegetables.” His modesty threatens to melt me into a puddle on the spot.
“Vegetables? You really are a people pleaser.”
“It’s exhausting being me,” he says with a smirk.
“Did it bug you, that I ... wasn’t your biggest fan?” I ask, careful not to use the word hate .
His simmering eyes meet mine. “More than you know.”
“Then why did you try so hard to make me hate you? You could have told me why you needed the presidency ... Maybe I wouldn’t have—”
“Char, you already had your mind made up about me no matter what I did. I guess I’d rather get negative attention from you than none at all.”
“But why? That’s so ... foolish.”
He turns to face me. “You really have no idea, do you?” he asks, voice dropping with a distinct edge. It’s husky and sexy in a way that makes me both want to curl into a ball and reach for him.
“About what?”
He opens his mouth to respond just as a blinding headlight floods my vision. Ollie’s Jeep.
I pull back, half-blinded by the light, pulse thrumming under my skin. I’d entirely forgotten we were still playing a game. The existence of anyone else momentarily forgotten. “They finally found us,” I say, standing abruptly.
“Yeah. Perfect timing,” he mutters behind me. I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic. And I’m too scared to ask.
We only play one more round before Ollie admits he’s tired and needs to be horizontal.
“Looks like Operation Back to Seventeen was a bust,” Renner says on the way home.
“Don’t remind me.”
He bites the inside of his cheek. “Guess we should actually tell people the wedding is off, huh? My mom is not gonna be happy.”
“Yeah, mine either,” I say. “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. We’ll get out of here.” My ribs tighten at the thought of canceling. That’s strange. Why does the thought of canceling make me want to cry? The grief must be making me extra emotional.
His eyes roam my face and hands, then my lap, before reverting to the road. “On the bright side, we did find out some crucial information. You got some closure with Kassie and I got to talk to my mom. Is there anything else you still want to find out? Maybe we can revisit our brainstorming list,” he adds.
“There is still something ...,” I start, nervously biting the inside of my cheek.
“What’s that?”
“I think I want to visit my dad’s wife.” Talking about Renner’s sister piqued my interest. His sister was taken away from him far too soon. And it seems like I don’t even make an effort to see mine, both of whom are alive and well. That doesn’t sit right.
He’s quiet for a moment. “Want me to come with?”
My heart warms at his offer. “Yeah. I do.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
His words have a soothing effect. And when he reaches over the console to give my hand a squeeze, the knot in my stomach uncoils, just a little bit.
We may be stuck in this strange, strange reality, but for the first time in my life, it feels good to rely on someone. Even if it’s Joshua Taylor Renner.