Chapter 26
Ethan
‘Have you been crying?’
‘No. I poked myself with a mascara wand is all.’
Mia is lying and she’s not good at it. But she’s also standing in front of my door, eyes rimmed red and her nose pink. Whoever is responsible for upsetting her like this, on her birthday, is as good as dead. And I know it’s shitty of me, but I really, really hope it’s that Oliver guy.
She holds out my jacket, neatly folded, like an offering.
‘I wanted to return this.’
‘Thanks.’ I take it and toss it behind me without looking, hopefully onto the bed, otherwise it isn’t nearly as smooth of a move as it was in my head. ‘You get a hold of your folks?’
‘Mmm-hmm. Did you pick a movie?’
I can’t help but feel like the call didn’t go so well.
‘Not yet. Kitchen clean-up took longer than I thought. Sure I can’t tempt you to join me?’
She tugs on the same silver bracelet I noticed last night, still gnawing on her lip. ‘You’re sure you don’t mind? I don’t want to be in the way.’
I almost laugh but she looks so serious, the noise gets stuck under a lump in my throat.
‘Mia, my plan for the evening consists of sitting on my ass, watching a couple of old movies and eating as many biscuits as I can before I start to feel sick. Does that sound like something a man should do alone?’
‘Honestly?’ she replies. ‘Yes.’
‘Right, but because it’s your birthday, I’m prepared to make an exception.’
Stepping to one side, I wave her inside, beyond relieved that I took the time to clean up my room earlier.
Are all my dirty clothes jammed inside a hamper in the closet?
Yes. Are those brand-new, box-fresh sheets on the bed because my first set was starting to turn stiffer than my dick first thing in the morning?
Also, yes. But Mia doesn’t need to know either of those things.
All she sees are clear floors, clean surfaces and, yes, that’s right, a fancy-ass candle burning on the windowsill.
‘It’s nice in here,’ she says, turning in a slow circle as I stoop over to pick up my jacket. Damn it, missed the bed.
‘Isn’t it the same as yours?’
‘Not quite.’ She points at the fireplace. ‘Mine is right behind yours, I guess we share a chimney. Shame they don’t work anymore.’
Now that is something I did not know, and I’m unbelievably relieved I didn’t try to light a fire a couple of nights ago when curiosity almost got the better of me. Mia runs one finger along the bookcase as I close the door gently.
‘The rest of it looks pretty similar. Don’t you just love all the old wood?’
‘Feels like I’m living inside a tree,’ I say, and she smiles. ‘My parents’ house was built in 1874, and I thought that was ancient. This is something else.’
‘Beaufort is pretty, though.’ Mia stands over by my window, resting against the ledge, like she’s still not sure she wants to commit to sitting. ‘My grandparents took me and my older brother one time.’
‘Kane, right?’
‘Do you remember everything everyone tells you?’ she asks.
‘No,’ I reply and it’s true. I only remember the things she tells me. ‘And yeah, Beaufort is pretty, but it’s a small town. I can’t see myself moving back after college.’
Or even after this semester, I think, with a quick flash forward to a dark Christmas break spent alone in this room. Not something to worry about right now.
‘Me either. You think they’ll let me stay here if I’m real quiet and help out with chores?’
‘Sure.’ I chuckle as I hang my returned jacket on the hook behind the front door. ‘That’s the plan? You want to stay in the UK?’
‘Maybe? The only thing I ever really wanted was to come to Hemden, I have no idea what comes next. I’m the dog who caught the car, I guess.’
‘What if you could do anything? Pretend I’m a genie and you’ve got three wishes.’ I hold up three fingers. ‘Shoot.’
‘First wish has to be world peace, obviously.’
‘Obviously.’
One finger down.
‘Second wish, end world hunger?’
‘Eh, we can bundle that into world peace,’ I say. ‘Call it a twofer.’
‘Then I’m gonna have to go with waking up with perfectly styled hair every day. I can’t tell you how much time that would save.’
I laugh and she lights up, just a little, just enough for someone paying attention to notice.
‘And third.’ She takes a big breath in then sighs it out on a loud exhale.
‘When I was younger, I wanted to be an author but actually, I think I’d like to be an editor.
At one of the big publishing houses, you know?
I want to be the person who helps publish the books, find new writers, get their work out into the world. I would love that.’
‘What’s stopping you?’
‘It’s a difficult industry to break into.
Most of the jobs go to people who already have connections.
You have to go to grad school, move to New York, work unpaid internships.
All those things take money I don’t have.
The careers counsellor at Marshall did everything he could to steer me away.
I figure having Hemden on my resume would help but it isn’t going to magically put thousands of dollars in my bank account.
So unless you really are a genie, I have no plan. ’
Growing up with money means never having to think about what it might mean if you didn’t have it.
My dad’s cash has opened so many doors. Paid my way into multiple top-tier schools.
Set me up with the best soccer coaches and equipment money can buy.
Secured the best doctors in the state for Chris and paid for an awful lot of silence along the way.
I wish there was something I could do to help Mia, someone who deserves an easier path way more than me, but I know that’s not how the world works.
‘I don’t know which is worse,’ I tell her. ‘Having no plan at all or having a plan and fucking it up.’
She slants her head to the side. ‘Wasn’t your plan to play for Hemden?’
‘Uh, I didn’t mean me,’ I say quickly, mad at myself for putting on a sweater.
Too weird if I just whip it off to distract her with my bare chest again?
‘Just a hypothetical. I don’t really know past college either.
Soccer, hopefully, but if I go pro, I could end up anywhere. Can’t plan on anything.’
‘I always thought that must be strange for athletes. What if you really love where you live then your team trades you and you have to move to the other side of the country? You just have to uproot your whole family and go? Then do it all over again in a couple of years if things don’t work out?’
‘Even if they do work out in soccer. MLS is great but most of the guys I know, their big dream is to play in Europe. Italy, Germany, Spain, here in the UK.’
‘Then you’re already one step ahead of them, congratulations.’
She’s wearing a different shirt to the one she had on earlier, the stripes swapped out for a fuzzy blue sweater the same colour as her eyes.
Her skirt is the same, but the giant black boots are gone, she has nothing on her feet.
Bare feet with bright pink painted toenails.
Her fingernails are always painted but the sight of those toes, the neon tips, makes my throat tighten and I have to cough to clear it.
It’s so intimate, like she trusts me somehow.
Unless maybe I’m a feet guy and I didn’t know it until now.
‘So, what movie are we watching?’
Tearing my eyes away, I usher her to a long bookshelf, double-lined with DVDs and Blu-rays.
For someone who has only been collecting for a couple of weeks, it’s an impressive selection.
Everything from the Marvel must-haves I grew up on, to the old movies the guy in the store insisted were essentials.
‘I don’t know.’ Mia squints at the tiny printed titles. ‘You choose.’
‘No way, birthday girl gets to pick. Go for it, nothing on this shelf I won’t want to watch.’
A reluctant smile slowly spreads on her face as she starts checking through each film. ‘You really have all the Star Wars movies?’
‘And if you want me to, I can quote each and every one from beginning to end.’
‘So maybe we give those a miss,’ she says with a wry look before pulling out a light grey case to read the back. ‘Chinatown?’
‘A total classic, one of the best films ever made. Plus, Jack Nicholson was a stud. I figure if people are still talking about a movie made fifty years ago, it has to be good.’
‘Looks interesting but maybe we go for something lighter,’ she suggests, reaching for another movie. ‘What’s this one about?’
‘Temple of Doom?’ I stare at her in total shock. ‘You’ve never seen Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom?’
‘It came out twenty years before I was born,’ she points out, scanning the back of the Blu-ray case. ‘They’ve made a lot of movies between now and then.’
‘Yeah, but nothing like Indiana Jones.’ I grab the case from her hands and toss it on my desk, then snatch up its neighbour and thrust it into her hands.
‘These movies are essential cinema. We have to start with Raiders of the Lost Ark, even though Temple of Doom is technically a prequel. You know what? I’m making it too complicated.
Sit your ass on the bed and get ready, I’m about to change your life. ’
‘For the better?’
‘Look, my dad and I don’t see eye to eye on many things in this world but if that man did one good thing on this planet, it was introducing me to these movies.
The first three Indiana Jones movies are the pinnacle of the adventure genre.
The new ones are total ass, but the first three?
’ I bring my fingers to my lips for a chef’s kiss.
‘Never been bettered. Why are you looking at me like that?’
Mia sits cross-legged on my bed, her lips pressed together like she’s holding in a laugh. ‘Did you just use the word “pinnacle”?’
‘What about it?’
‘So much for the dumb jock persona,’ she smirks. ‘What score did you get on your SATs out of interest?’
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’
I scoff but I’m grinning like crazy when I turn around to cue up the movie. Mia is in my room, on my bed, making fun of my vocabulary. Man, fucking up those first two batches of biscuits was beyond worth it. Which reminds me …
‘Stay right there,’ I say, pointing at her with both pointer fingers. ‘I’ll be right back.’
I fly into the kitchen to take a couple of biscuits out of the storage container I bought specially, place them on a plate, then fish around in a grocery bag for one last thing.
Honey butter and strawberry jelly on the plate, knife and napkins stuffed in my back pocket, I back out of the kitchen and slowly open my bedroom door, knocking off the light switch as I enter.
‘Happy birthday, Mia,’ I say, the only light in the room coming from the candle stuck in one of the biscuits. ‘Do you have any noise-cancelling headphones? Because I’m about to sing.’
‘Please don’t,’ she begs when I open my mouth. ‘The others already sang once at the picnic and it’s a miracle I lived to tell the tale. This is more than enough. How do you have birthday candles?’
‘It’s the craziest story,’ I tell her, handing over the plate. ‘I went to this huge building and it was full of things you can bring home with you in exchange for money. You might’ve heard of it, they call it a store.’
‘Very funny.’
The room is dark but glowing, and I think about how old this place is, how years ago, this room would have only ever been lit by candlelight.
Did everyone look as beautiful as Mia does now?
The warmth of the tiny light makes her blue eyes sparkle, the ocean on a sunny day, and her shadow dances on the wall behind my bed.
‘Make a wish,’ I tell her. ‘And make it a good one.’
She’s sucking on that luscious bottom lip, taking her birthday duties seriously.
If it were me, the candle would’ve been out already, plate on the floor, and Mia on top of me, legs wrapped around my waist and grinding on my— She inhales sharply and the light in the room dims again, helpful as I reach for a pillow to place over my erection.
This girl is going to be the death of me.
‘Ready?’ I ask, grabbing the remote.
‘Ready,’ she confirms, turning around so her back is against the wall, the two of us side by side.
Her knee brushes against mine as I turn on the TV and start the movie, a painting of a mountain coming into view. She doesn’t offer and I don’t ask what she wished for. I highly doubt it’s the same thing that’s on my mind, and if it isn’t, I don’t want to know.
For now, at least, this is enough.