12. Kade
12
Kade
To make Mars even more annoying, the man is good at what he does. I’ll give him that. He’s not one of those autotuned hacks. He genuinely sounds good just sitting here with his acoustic guitar and his voice ringing out.
And he knows what the people want. He’s only played a song or two of his, but the rest have all been Christmas standards. Harriet and Harry are dancing to each and every one of them while Andrew holds up his phone so that his girlfriend can watch the impromptu concert on FaceTime. Meanwhile, Ahmad is singing along with Bryn, the two of them laughing when he gets lyrics wrong.
The Christmas spirit is strong here. In everyone except me.
I hate to be a Grinch, but I can’t help it. Gia told me earlier to lay off Mars, and that has had me in a twist all day. Of course, she didn’t say it quite like that. What she said was, “Mars and I cleared the air, so you don’t have to be on the defensive, big guy.”
She patted my chest, too, for emphasis. If I were a different man, more impulsive and reckless, I would have grabbed her hand, pulled her close, and said, “Be careful with him, Gia. You can find that feeling again. It doesn’t have to be with him.”
I’m assuming the worst because I have to. If I don’t, I might hurt my own feelings by hoping too much.
Not to mention, everyone’s eyes have been on me since I ran my mouth last night.
Abigail appears next to me. “Eggnog?” She holds out a tray of eggnog cups, all of them sprinkled with cinnamon.
“Sure,” I say with a forced smile. “Thanks.”
She doesn’t go once I’ve taken my cup of eggnog, instead placing her hand on her hip and looking over at Mars, who is in the middle of a rendition of “No Place Like Home For the Holidays.”
Abigail sighs. “He’s good, isn’t he?”
“Sure,” I say, taking a sip of the eggnog so as not to editorialize too much.
“Men who play instruments are…” She sighs dreamily. “You know?”
“I don’t, but I don’t need to,” I say. I get the premise. I mean, I’m out of my mind over a woman who plays the piano and sings her heart out for thousands of adoring fans every night. I get the musician thing. Which is why Mars’s presence scares me. And Abigail’s infatuation doesn’t help.
Abigail’s mouth tips up in a smirk. “Kade, Kade, Kade.”
“What?”
She pats my arm. “Lighten up. You’ve been so edgy since he arrived.”
“Have I?” I ask even though I know the answer. Obviously. I’ve been on edge since we arrived in Blue Flag, and Mars’s appearance has only added to the stress.
We watch Mars performing for a few moments, him stumbling over some of the words and somehow making even that seem purposeful. “Ah, right, from the top of the verse!” he announces, and people go along with him without batting an eye.
I grit my teeth.
“She’s over him, Kade.”
I look at Abigail. Her eyes are still fixated on Mars, a pleasant smile on her lips. “Huh?”
“Gia? She’s over him. So you don’t have to worry about her, okay?” Abigail glances at me momentarily before elbowing me in the side. “Unless you’re worried for other reasons.”
“I’m not worried!” I exclaim, hoping I haven’t been too loud. “I mean, not more than I should be. Professionally. And as a friend.”
“Right.” She drags the word out so long it has multiple syllables.
I drink my eggnog, so I don’t say anything else stupid. The words thing… I’m not that good at it.
“Ask her to dance,” Abigail says, gesturing with her tray toward the doorway where Gia now stands.
My mouth dries up when I see her. She’s been running around trying to take care of everything, rejecting help from me and Bryn at almost every turn, which means my glimpses of her are few and far between.
Now, though, she’s changed into a dark red velvet dress. Sleeveless and long, without any extra frills, just the elegant curves and lines of her body. Her dark hair tumbles over her shoulders, fluffed to perfection.
That’s not fair. “I’m not dressed right,” I say to Abigail.
“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. You look fine .”
A measly flannel and old blue jeans compared to that? Is she crazy ?
“Don’t you think a pretty girl like her deserves someone to ask her to dance?” Abigail nudges.
“Of course, but—” I pause. “What are you trying to do here? Nothing is going to happen.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, pretend none of us know you’re completely obsessed with Gia.”
She flounces away with her tray, leaving me in the wake of her comment.
I swallow. I was hoping we could all pretend what I said last night hadn’t happened, but here we are. I’m just surprised word hasn’t spread to Gia. Or maybe it has, and she’s trying to pretend it never happened. It's better than the alternative of her not speaking to me anymore.
Mars launches into the last chorus of his song, but my eyes are on Gia. She wraps her arms around herself and leans on the doorframe, a soft smile on her face as she watches him. If she looked at me like that, I’d probably combust.
She looks at me suddenly. And her smile… grows. “Having fun?” she mouths.
I hold up my glass in her direction.
Gia laughs quietly to herself, then returns to watching Mars and playing with the bracelet on her wrist.
This is ridiculous. Abigail’s right. Gia’s too beautiful to be standing on the fringes like this. She’s a star wherever she goes. And stars need a night sky to show off in front of. I might not be much, but I could be that, I think.
I knock back the rest of my eggnog, place my glass on the windowsill behind me, and take a step in Gia’s direction just as the song winds down and people start to clap.
“Thank you, thank you!” Mars announces. “Gia, why don’t you come up with me and do ‘The Christmas Song,’ eh? ”
I freeze in my tracks as I watch her perk up, her whole body electrified by the possibility of performing.
Or the possibility of being close to him .
“As long as I can be Nat, and you’re Natalie,” Gia says before striding to the piano to provide accompaniment to his guitar.
The room alights with laughter, save mine. I scratch the back of my neck, diverting my attention to the tips of my shoes as they begin to sing. No one dances. Everyone listens like they’re witnessing some sort of supernova: the magnificent talents of Gia DeLuca and Mars Floyd together again.
Together at last.
Her voice is thin and wavering, unlike the way she punches through some of her biggest hits. She sounds beautiful. Doesn’t matter if I’m not looking at her: my pulse still pounds, and my face flushes. I force myself to look at her as she gets to the end of the verse.
Gia watches Mars’s fingers dancing across the strings as her dreamy voice envelops us all. Enchants us.
And yet, when she gets to the end of the line, she looks at me again, her fingers buoyant on the keys. “ Merry Christmas to you …”
She sings it like we’re alone. Like she created the words for me. That’s her magic. And it has to mean something, doesn’t it?
It means everything until she returns her gaze to Mars, a humongous smile across her mouth as they begin to sing together.
My chest is starting to hurt. I need fresh air. As quietly as I can, I leave the common room and head outside through the front door. I don’t need a coat; my body is on fire with simultaneous embarrassment and adoration.
No one ever talks about how deeply mortifying it is to care for someone the way I care for Gia. She doesn’t see it, or if she does, she ignores it. Both are pathetic. One lacks confidence, and the other is pitiful.
I look up at the night sky, impressed that every pinpricking star pales in comparison to Gia’s brightness.
“This is so stupid,” I say to myself, my breath puffing out into the night air.
The door opens behind me, and I jerk around to see who it is.
Bryn emerges, wrapped in a big furry blanket, a frown on her face. “What are you doing out here? You’ll catch a cold.”
I turn back to look at the sky. “Needed some air.”
Bryn steps up beside me, waiting for me to say more. I remain silent. She looks up at the sky, too, and we stand there for what feels like a century. This sky has looked over us for so much of our lives, seeing us at our worst—maybe our best, too.
I can’t deny that Blue Flag is home.
“Are we going to talk about what happened last night?” she asks.
“What happened last night?”
“Kade, don’t be obtuse on purpose.”
I inhale and exhale deeply before replying, “I shouldn’t have been attacking him.”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”
I purse my lips together.
“Saying how you’d move heaven and earth to?—”
“I didn’t say I would; I said that’s what she deserves. There’s a difference. I’d say the same of you,” I say hurriedly, rejecting her attempt at this conversation.
Bryn pulls the blanket tighter around her. “She just sang that whole song for you, and you wouldn’t even look at her. ”
The whole song? Was she looking at me when my head was down? “That’s what she does. That’s Gia.”
“Okay, Kade. Whatever you say.”
I got what I wanted—the ending of this conversation. And yet, I wish I could cry out the truth. Bryn is my sister, after all. She’s always been there for me and supported me at my lowest. But this… caring for Gia the way I do… I’m not sure how to give it to her.
“I want to reach out to Dad.”
All of my thoughts of Gia disappear. I look at Bryn, wide-eyed. “What?”
Bryn is now the one being stoic, staring up at the stars. “It’s been years since we’ve seen him.”
“Well, we don’t owe him our presence.”
“I think we owe it to ourselves. To see if we can have a dad again.”
I can’t contain the sneery sound in my voice. “He hasn’t been our father for more than half our lives.”
“I know,” Bryn says.
“After mom, he disappeared. He gave up on being a dad. Why would you want that back in our lives?”
“Because he’s the only parent we have, Kade,” she says, her expression heavy. “Don’t you miss him?”
“I don’t know how to miss a man that never existed.”
“Don’t be so bitter, Kade. You’re always assuming the worst in people. He’s our dad!” Bryn says. Her eyes are wet, but she’s not crying. “He lost Mom, too.”
My jaw tightens. “We needed him.”
“I’m not excusing what happened, Kade, but I want my dad back.”
I lean away from my sister, narrowing my eyes at her. None of this feels sudden. She’s worked herself up to say this. How long it’s taken her, though… “You’ve planned this all along, haven’t you? You and Gia. ”
Bryn’s attention snaps to me. “What?! Of course not!”
“That’s why you two pulled me out here! You wanted to trap me and get me to see Dad and try and make amends and?—”
Her eyes widen. “Kade, that’s not why we asked you to come out here! We didn’t want you to?—”
I swipe my hand through the air. “Save it, Bryn. I’m not doing it.” I take off down the stairs.
“Where are you going?!”
“To my cabin!”
“Your coat?—
“I’m warm!” I shout back over my shoulder. My desire has turned into rage. Of course, I forgot that the snow is deep, and the path hasn’t been cleared around the house, but I don’t care if I have to trudge through snow up to my knees. I need to get out of here. I need to be alone.
Bryn sputters in my wake before letting out a frustrated, tantrummy scream, one I haven’t heard since we were kids. “You’re impossible!”
I am impossible. I try to be the simplest person in the room, not cause drama, keep everything on an even keel. And all I’ve done by doing that is draw an incomprehensible veil around me that makes it impossible to understand me.
The thing is, the veil works both ways. They don’t understand how to get in. And I don’t understand how to get out.
I have no choice other than to burrow myself deeper into myself.
But holding onto feelings is starting to hurt more than letting them out.