Chapter 33
LACHLAN
The cool air brushes my face as I step outside into the sleepy morning. The walnut trees and grapevines that surround our property are starting to get tiny leaves.
Isak’s house is quiet. So is mine, for that matter. Grandma and Ivy were up late talking about something, and Mom’s probably sleeping in as usual.
Okay. So how, exactly, am I getting to school today? Is Isak going to drive me? Ugh. I shouldn’t have blown up at him in the grocery store.
My number one rule: no yelling. And I broke that rule with him.
I feel sick.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I grimace. All weekend long, I relived that moment. I should’ve brushed him off. Instead, I showed him where I hurt.
He already knew.
I wanted to apologize. I kept unlocking my phone and pulling up our text thread, then not typing anything.
I still want to apologize, but what do I say?
I’m embarrassed that you know all my shitty secrets? I like that you don’t shy away from talking about the things that matter, but it also sucks, because I can’t hide from you?
I really, really like you?
Nope. I’ll take the bus.
I start down the walk, but as I do, Isak’s front door opens and someone steps out. My heart leaps into my throat but then settles back down. It’s his mom. Not Isak. She waves at me cheerily. “Hi, Lachlan!”
I push my hair out of my face and form my usual smile. “Um, hi, Ms. Hammond.”
She strides over to me, and I meet her halfway between our houses. Isak’s mom is petite, with the same facial structure and coloring that he has. “Rochelle, Lachlan. You’re an adult; you can call me Rochelle.”
I nod. But I’m not calling her that. “Yes, ma’am.”
She’s sliding her purse onto her shoulder. “Isak’s not feeling well today, and he asked me to give you a ride to school. Come on.”
My smile wavers. “You don’t have to—”
“It’s no trouble. Royce High is on my way to work.”
I pause. What are my options here? Stick to my guns and be late to school, because the bus will take a while, or swallow my pride and grab a ride from the very kind mom of the guy I like? The guy who thought of me even though I was a jerk to him?
Dammit. What pride? Be courageous. ”Yeah, okay. Thanks. That’d be great.”
I get in her car. The radio is playing ’90s hits.
We don’t discuss why I’m not asking anyone in my family to drive me.
She knows. She knows as much as Isak does. Probably more, given how close she used to be with my mom until they had their falling-out.
Shit.
“How sick is Isak?” I ask, staring at the trees going by.
“It’s probably nothing more than a head cold,” she says.
“Seems mild. Hopefully he won’t be out very long.
I think he just needs fluids and rest. I wish I had time to stay home and take care of him, but tax season’s here.
I’m not sure what time I’ll be home, and we have a few cans of soup in the pantry, at least.” I’d forgotten that she’s some kind of tax preparer, so her work is cyclical.
“I bet you’re busy,” I say.
“Yeah, no kidding. April 15 can’t come soon enough.”
She makes small talk with me the entire ride to school, and it’s so normal that it’s weird. Other people have parents who can talk like rational adults. Although I suppose my family can fake it long enough for people to not get suspicious as to how dysfunctional we are.
She pulls up to the curb in front of the school. “Here you go. It was nice to spend time with you, Lachlan.”
“Yeah, thank you. I appreciate the ride.” I open the door.
“Have a good day. Do you need me to pick you up later?” Her caring expression makes my heart squeeze.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll get a ride from someone.” Or walk. Or take the bus.
“All right. Let me give you my cell phone number anyway, in case you get stranded.”
While I want to ask her why she’s so kind, I accept her number. Isak’s a good person because he comes from a caring family. Meanwhile, I don’t deserve nice things because— Never mind.
At lunch, I corner Malik. If I recall correctly, he lives on our side of town. “Say, can I ask you for a favor?”
His smile is tentative—it’s not like we’re friends—but I’ve never been mean to him, either, and after a moment, he nods. “What do you need?”
I clap him on the back. “Thanks, man. Isak lives next door to me, and he’s sick. I wanted to pick him up some soup, but my car’s in the shop. Any chance you could take me to the Tavern after rehearsal so I can buy him some, then give me a lift home? I’ll get you a gyro as a bribe.”
He grins. “Sure, I can do that. I know where he lives.”
“Thanks.”
Malik walks away. I head to the student store, which is a window next to the cafeteria, and get in line. Maddy and Carson, two juniors I’ve seen around but don’t know very well, are staffing it today.
“Hey, Lachlan,” Maddy says when it’s my turn. “Prom tickets?”
“Yep.” I pull out my wallet.
“One or two?”
My stomach clenches. “Um. Two.”
“Oh?” She gives me a saucy smile as she takes my payment. “Who are you taking?”
I beam at her, but it feels forced. “Not sure yet.”
The tickets burn a hole in my pocket as I step away. Could I ever be brave enough to ask the person I really want to ask to prom?
After rehearsal, which is lonely without Isak there—and awkward, since Jody has to read his lines—and a stop at the restaurant, Malik drops me off at Isak’s door.
My stomach clenches as I stand on the front stoop and take in Isak’s home.
It’s been a long time, but this house still has that warm, cheerful feel that makes my heart yearn for things it can’t have.
Like a mom who cares, and a home where people eat dinner together instead of screaming at each other.
Also, how’s he going to react? The last time I spoke with him, I was a dick.
Time to face the music.
I knock twice, clutching the white paper bag with a Styrofoam container in it, my backpack slung across my shoulder. I hope no one from my house is looking over here. Isak’s mom opens the door. “Lachlan, hi, how are you? How was school? Do you need a ride tomorrow?”
God, she’s so nice. Why is she so nice? And I thought she had to work late.
“Hi, Ms. Hammond. I’m good. I wanted to thank you for giving me a ride, and I brought Isak some soup.” I hold up the bag, offering it to her.
Okay, so maybe I’m chickening out.
“Come on in, and you can give it to him yourself. I think he’s awake. I stopped home to grab something, but I have to go back to work.” She gives me a smile that makes my eyes hot. Dammit, don’t be kind to me. I can’t handle it. “You remember where his room is?”
I nod and bite my lip.
“You can set your book bag down here.”
I do, and then I walk down the still-familiar hallway. The anime stickers covering Isak’s door are new, and I smile as I knock.
“Come in,” Isak says, his voice hoarse. He must not have heard me talking with his mom, because when he sees me, he sits up straight in bed, setting down his phone.
“Um, hey.” He swivels his head around as if he’s imagining how his room looks to me.
It’s neat, although he’s got some clothes piled up in a corner. “Um, what are you … Why are you … ?”
“Your mom said you were sick, so I brought you soup. It’s from the Tavern, that old Greek restaurant in town. They make the best avgolemono. Should still be hot.”
His blankets are pooled around him, and his face is paler than usual, making his freckles pop. His mop of hair is plastered to his head, and his nose is red. He’s so gorgeous. “Is that the lemon chicken rice soup?”
“Yeah.”
“I can never pronounce it right,” he says.
“I think it’s good when you’re sick.” I shove the paper bag at him.
Isak cradles the package in his hands without opening it. “You brought me soup.”
“Anyone would have,” I mutter.
“No. They wouldn’t.”
We stare at each other. I look at the slope of his nose, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the way his bottom lip is a little chapped. The way the Blink-182 shirt hangs off his shoulders. His pale arms and long fingers.
I want to give him a hug.
Fuck.
I tilt my head back and look at the ceiling. “I’m sorry about the grocery store.”
“It’s okay.”
“Thanks, but it wasn’t cool. I was being a dick. I … I get defensive because”—my voice drops, and I study him—“you know everything about me.”
“Not everything.” His eyes well with concern.
The same concern he’s been showing to me my entire life. Especially since Denise and my dad died.
A lump forms in my throat. This quiet kid, the one that the bullies call weird, is the best person I’ve ever met.
“Just eat the soup, yeah?” I say gruffly.
Isak pops open the lid and finds the plastic spoon in the bottom of the bag. He takes a sip, and his eyes close as he swallows.
“Good?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He waves the cream-colored spoon. “The lemon is comforting on my throat.” Something lodges in my heart.
Isak eats a few more spoonfuls.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask. “Saltines? Gatorade? Ginger ale?”
“No, I’m fine.” He glances up.
A lock of hair falls into his eyes. Something about his messy hair is getting to me. I want to make his curls boing. I want to …
I want him to feel better, and then I want to kiss him for real. Not like the stage kisses we’ve been doing.
A real kiss.
I want to take Isak out on a date. I want to let Isak into my life.
How could I ever deny how I feel about him? It’s not shameful to be attracted to him. I should stop pretending.
I want to try being with him for real. If he’ll have me.
I don’t want quick sessions in a closet. I want to bring him soup and show him that he’s sandwich-worthy. I want to hear about every single one of his favorite books and TV shows.
I’m not ready for the entire town to see me with him, but I can’t stand staying away from him, either.
Isak starts coughing, and I take the out.
“I’ll let you be. Thanks for having your mom take me to school this morning. She doesn’t need to do that. I can take the bus or get a ride from someone else.”
He waves a hand. “She said it was no trouble.” And now he really looks at me. “I’m sorry I brought up your family situation the other day. I know you don’t want to talk about it, and you don’t have to. Just … I’m here, okay?”
I have that knee-jerk reaction again. Like I need to escape. Like he’s seeing all the things I want to hide.
He’s safe. He’s the only one who’s safe.
I give him a tight smile. “Yeah. Thanks. Apology accepted.” I nod over my shoulder. “See you soon?”
“I’ll probably be well enough to go to school tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow, then.”
Ms. Hammond ends up driving me to school again the next day, but on Wednesday Isak seems to be back to normal.
My mind is spinning, though. And on Friday, while my mom and Ivy scream at each other, I sit in my room with my sound-canceling headphones and face some tough truths. None of which are a surprise. But at least I’m finally acknowledging them.
One: My family is horrible. They’re going to treat me badly, even if I’m the absolute best person on the planet.
So I don’t think I should try to please them anymore.
My uncle hasn’t threatened my physical safety in a while.
Maybe being a football player has advantages, and I don’t need to be so scared of him anymore.
Two: I have a thing for my neighbor.
And three … Maybe, just maybe, he has a thing for me, too. He said he couldn’t fake it with me. It’s why he got so pissed when I wanted to stay away.
After thinking all week that I should let Isak in, I need to actually do it. What do I have to lose?
More accurately, do I have something to gain?
I do: him.
I want him, and I’m done pretending I don’t.