Chapter 19
Danny
Sixteen Years Old
I’m kind of a terrible driver. I lured Gracie into my car under false pretenses. Her suspicions were confirmed almost immediately after I put the car in neutral instead of reverse. She sighs in relief as I pull into our neighborhood.
“I’ve never been more grateful for another day on earth. I think I might convert to a religion after all, or maybe hike up a mountain. There are so many things I want to do in my life that I’m just now realizing…” She trails off sarcastically, the little villain.
I roll my eyes. “You’re being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad, Gracie.”
“Stop signs turn white when they see you coming, Danny,” she deadpans.
“You would prefer I slow down a mile in front of the stop sign? The whole point is to stop at the stop sign. First, you have to make it there.”
Gracie taps her bottom lip a few times. “You know, you’re right. Accelerating before slamming on the brakes makes so much more sense.” She nods as I put the car in park in her driveway.
I run my hands through my hair. “In my defense, the construction detour took us on a weird and unfamiliar route.”
She stares straight out the windshield. “Agreed. For a moment there, I thought we were driving directly to Hell.”
“Get out of my car, Susannah Sinclair.”
“Okay, okay,” she apologizes. “You know, you’re not the worst driver in the world…”
“Thank you.”
“But you better hope they don’t die.”
Against my will, I laugh. “Are you done?”
She unfastens her seatbelt, climbs out of the car, and makes a big show of kissing the grass in her front yard. My headlights spotlight her in the dark like she’s an actress on a stage.
“Ah, solid ground, how I’ve missed thee.” She picks a yellow dandelion from the ground and tosses it at me through the window. “Here, Danny. This is for you to keep in your glovebox. May it remind you that there’s life worth living outside the confines of your Prius death trap.”
I flip her off. God, I like her so much.
I place the dandelion in my glove box, not to remind me of my awful driving, but to remind me that I can’t—I won’t—take her for granted again. Then, I put the car in reverse and travel the remaining fifteen feet to my house.
While the outside of our modest house isn’t anything special, the inside is a completely different story. When I open the door, my eyes snag on a new photo in the entryway. Every inch of our home is an homage to the creativity of the women in my life.
Each room is painted a rich color, and the kitchen is no exception with its deep scarlet walls. Like the rest of the house, the walls are covered in framed photos, and I can barely see the surface of our black refrigerator through all of Tessa’s artwork.
Mom’s washing dishes, and they’re piling up on the rack. I grab a towel and start drying.
“Hello, Judas,” I say, glaring at my mother.
“What’s that chilly greeting for?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you replaced me with Ben as your son? I saw you two laughing it up with Gracie at the game.”
“Please, Daniel. You need to stop playing around and get your head out of your ass.”
I grab another plate to dry. “Wow, Mom. Tell me how you really feel.”
“How I really feel is that you have liked your best friend as more than a friend since you were probably ten years old, and you’ve treated her like absolute garbage since you started dating that horrid girl.”
“You thought she was horrid? Jesus.” I run my hand down my face. She just stands there, unapologetically blinking at me in response. “Well,” I continue, “for your information, I broke up with said ‘horrid girl’ at lunch today.”
She turns off the water and stares at me. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
She wraps me up in a hug so tight I can barely breathe, and the blue dish soap on her hands soaks through my shirt. “I’ve never been prouder of you, Daniel.”
I remove her arms from my waist. “Why didn’t you tell me you hated Tori?”
“I’ve never been one to coddle, kiddo. You need to make your own choices and your own mistakes. You’ll never be able to handle future consequences if you’re not fully in control of the choices you make for yourself. Now, she was a particularly bad choice, but I’ve dated a few worse in my past.”
“And yet you still judge me.”
She kisses me on the head three times. “I knew you’d come around.”
“Alright, alright,” I complain. We’re both smiling now.
“Daniel! Daniel!” Tessa comes bounding into the kitchen wearing her prized Lion King pajamas. Her long, dark, wavy ponytail trails behind her.
I smile and crouch down. “Shouldn’t you be in bed by now, Tessie?” I fake pout. “Mom never let me stay up this late when I was nine.”
Tessie giggles. “I wanted to show you my drawing! I drew you in your football uniform.” She hands me a ripped out piece of lined notebook paper and beams. “I showed G my drawing at the game, and she said it was the most beautiful picture she’s ever seen.”
I pick Tessie up and set her on the countertop. “She did, huh? Do you think Gracie was talking about your drawing skills or how handsome I look?” I tickle her sides, and she squeals, pushing me away.
“Obviously, not you. You’re a dweeb.” She pokes me in the chest with her finger.
“Mom! Tessie called me a dweeb!” I whine loudly in an exaggerated tattle-tale tone.
“Tessa,” Mom says in a warning voice, “you know better. That’s not even a good insult.”
“Hey!” I pretend to be offended. “Stop bullying me.”
Tessie sighs like she’s exhausted from my antics. “So, what do you think of my drawing? Are you going to hang it up in your room?”
My room is covered in her art, and so is Gracie’s room.
I can’t remember a time when Tessie wasn’t drawing.
My mom definitely passed down all her creativity to her.
I take a look at the paper and smile so hard my eyes squint.
The sketch is pretty amazing for a kid her age.
She even drew all the stickers on my helmet.
“This is too good, Tessie. You drew this all by yourself? I can’t believe all the details you added. My jersey looks just like it does in real life.”
Mom catches my eye and gives me the “wrap it up” gesture, rolling her wrist in a circle. I grab Tessie and put her back on the ground. “Do you mind hanging this up in my room for me? I’ll be up in a minute to tuck you in and say goodnight.”
“Yay!” Tessie sprints out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
I take my role in her life very seriously.
Our dad preferred to spend his time traveling the world as a freelance journalist rather than parenting in Ohio.
He filed for divorce once Tessa was born and returned to his home state of New York.
Tessie never knew him, which is for the best. Over the years, my own good memories of Dad have faded into only two: watching Mustangs football together and throwing the pigskin around in the backyard.
We’re doing just fine without him.
As I finish drying the last dish, Mom whispers, “So, tell me what the plan is! What are you going to do about our neighbor girl?”
“I can’t tell her how I feel yet, Mom. It’s too soon after the break up. I want Gracie to know I’m serious about her.”
She nods thoughtfully. “That makes sense. But don’t lose your chance, Daniel. You’ll probably only get one.”