Chapter 11
Biology Class
Day 14
“Are you planning on eating those chips right next to me this entire class?” Dax asked.
“I didn’t have time to eat,” I said, sneaking another bite of Sun Chips. Certainly not the healthiest lunch ever, but the package boasted 100% whole grain, so there was that.
“Why?”
“Because I was planning the pep rally during lunch. I have volleyball right after this. I’m going to pass out if I don’t eat something.” I looked at him and slid my backpack between us, a family-size bag of chips taking up the entire space. “Do you want some? It won’t be as noisy if we’re both chewing.”
A look of amusement crossed Dax’s face before he wiped it away.
“Was that a smile?”
“Nope.”
“It was.”
He slouched in his seat, scrolling through songs on his phone, signaling the end of our conversation.
“Dax smiled,” I sang my words, moving in as close to him as I dared. “Again. ”
Dax covered his mouth with his hand and looked forward, attempting to block what I could only imagine was another smile.
T-minus 45 days to exit
Dax hours remaining: 210
A person can be a lot of things in their life. For instance, I was always the type to do my homework within the first ten minutes of being home from school. My mom used to call me studious. So, I went about the world, taking great pains to be studious. In reality, I just didn’t want my parents to have one more thing to fight about. Bed made? Yes, sir. A on that paper? Of course. In our family, we had to be good enough for bragging rights at parties, and I held that mantle very seriously.
So, when I found myself lying point blank to my dad’s face, it threw me for a loop. I had never thought of myself as a liar. I never really even considered lying, because lying was bad. And Ivy Brooks was not bad.
But after my dad’s warning, I couldn’t exactly tell him that his recently convicted daughter was going to practically be living with the one man he had warned me against. Obviously with a very important wall between our living spaces, but still. My dad certainly wouldn’t see it that way. So I told him I was staying with Cat for the rest of the summer to give him and Angela some space. To be fair, he seemed equally relieved to be rid of me.
The next morning, before work at the cafe, I packed a bag with old clothes from my closet that weren’t too out of date. Thankfully, beach and island clothes didn’t change much in ten years. Chino shorts were still flattering for an upscale look, cut-off shorts were still in, and flip-flops were still a way of life. I threw yesterday’s hair up in a ponytail, said goodbye to them both, and stepped out of the door toward freedom .
After my shift at the cafe, I worked on the Lego car for an hour before I got antsy and told Dax I needed to move in. He handed me a key and even offered to drive me up, which was surprising of him, but I declined. I only had one bag and a set of sheets I had bought at the market. I had a hard time believing my luck. On the island, it was notoriously difficult to find housing. Resort and inn stays cost families an arm and a leg, and here I was, being handed a place to stay virtually for free. Though, not because Dax was any sort of saint. He had squeezed forty more hours out of me for this tiny bit of space. It had to be worth it.
Please let it be worth it.
The salty ocean breeze tickled the hair on the nape of my neck as I picked my way toward the duplex, really hoping I didn’t see my dad’s golf cart on the road. If he were to find me, I wasn’t sure what explanation I could give him.
At the far edge of a subdivision, on the north end of the island, a small dirt road led me to a house on a secluded piece of land. The kind of house that looked like a small child’s drawing–a box shape with a triangle on top. Except, this house was divided from the tip of the roof, down the center, with a door on each side.
For a long moment, I stood, taking in my reality. My very tiny reality. It was one thing to imagine living near a person, but it was different when you realized this was basically like pitching two tents right up against each other. The walls would definitely not be thick enough to suit me. For the first time, I questioned the sanity of my quick decision to stay here.
But then I remembered who my dad was, and I got over it pretty quickly.
Exit strategy and all that.
I put the key in the lock and opened the green door on the left, bracing myself for something awful to pop out or the place to be in shambles. I reached inside and flipped on a light .
To my utter relief, a welcoming scene met my gaze.
The door opened to a living room big enough for a loveseat and a TV. Cabinets and a tiny island lined one side of the space, just past the living room, while a miniature set of stairs led toward a loft. On the opposite side of the kitchen was another door underneath the stairs, most likely a bathroom. Past the kitchen, at the back of the house, was a bedroom.
I stepped inside and closed the door, then sunk onto the couch with a happy sigh because, for the first time since I’d been back on the island, I could almost feel the tension with my dad dissipating. His eyes, constantly watching and remarking and critiquing, weren’t in this space and they never would be.
There wasn’t much to unpack. The apartment was fully furnished, thank goodness, including a special welcome bag of my favorite brand of Sun Chips and a Coke, which made me smile.
I heard Dax arrive at his apartment next door later that night. If I hadn’t noticed his door slam shut, or the opening and closing of his refrigerator, or the shower turning on, the blatant knocking against my wall would have eventually garnered my attention.
A moment later, I received a text.
DAX
Everything good?
ME
Great. It’s hard to stay annoyed with you when you leave me a welcome basket.
DAX
You probably would have stolen that stuff from me anyway.
ME
Thank you, Dax. I appreciate you letting me stay.
DAX
Sure. What did your dad say?
ME
Um
DAX
You didn’t tell him you were here?
ME
He might possibly think I’m staying at Cat’s house.
DAX
Why didn’t you just stay there?
ME
I didn’t want to impose.
DAX
Interesting. I feel very imposed upon.
ME
You don’t count. This is a business deal. I’m paying with hours.
DAX
Whatever helps you sleep at night.
Me
I think I’ll sleep great.
DAX
I think we need a secret knock. Me and my brother used to have one. It came in handy.
ME
For what?
DAX
In case your music is too loud, or I need a snack… Lots of reasons.
ME
I think we’re good.
DAX
Your loss. I take my shower at 6:00 am. The hot water runs out in seconds if we both shower at the same time.
ME
If you ever tick me off, that’s very good information to have.
DAX
Ivy…
ME
Sweet dreams
I laughed to myself and tossed my phone on the coffee table before flopping myself down on the couch. The rest of my evening was spent lounging in that exact position, mindlessly watching TV and feeling more alive than I had in years. Even watching TV felt foreign. I was now determined to make the best of this summer on the island. Cat had already informed me of the pick-up volleyball games that happened once a week on the beach, not to mention that the Fourth of July was coming up. I hadn’t had the luxury of a summer break in nearly six years, and I was planning to take full advantage—in between working double-time to pay Dax back for the extra hours, of course.
Court sentencing or no, this summer was looking up for Ivy Brooks.
Two days.
That was how long we lasted getting along in our shared space.
It was the music that finally did it. For all his talk about noisy neighbors, Dax sure was sure generous with the volume button in his own home. But more than that, I felt like he was only doing it to get under my skin. Actually, I knew he was.
And still…it broke me.
It was 6 am on Wednesday when the whiny, soulful cry of Bob Dylan filtered through my walls. How did I know it was Bob Dylan? I held my phone up next to the wall and used an app to identify the song. I tried banging on the wall above my headboard, which did absolutely nothing. When I heard his shower turn on, I stumbled into the bathroom and cranked my faucet as hot as it would go. A minute or two later, steam began to cloud the bathroom and I heard something akin to a yelp from next door followed by three loud raps on the wall. I pushed away thoughts of Dax in the shower but did have a case of the giggles off and on for the next five minutes while I made myself a cup of coffee.
Then the music was turned up even louder—with singing.
I attempted a few deep breaths. I was desperately trying to avoid conflict with him, but today was supposed to be a relaxing morning for me. The cafe had scheduled me for a day off, and I had planned to sleep in and then take a walk on the beach.
But the music.
I couldn’t read. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t listen to an audiobook. I couldn’t THINK about anything but my growing disdain for my new neighbor.
So, like the reasonable adult I was, I calmly walked ( stormed) across our shared porch and banged on his door—but only because he probably wouldn’t hear a normal knock.
To my dismay, his door opened right away. Even the way he opened his door was smooth and casual. Smooth like the bare chest he currently wore with not a care in the world. Did I allow my gaze to trail downward?
Just a little bit. On accident.
The smile he gave me was almost like he’d been expecting me, which scrolled my annoyance factor up from a casual nine out of ten to a one hundred out of ten.
“Hey, Books. You miss me?”
“Your music is too loud.”
He feigned an innocent expression. “Really?”
“Turn it down, or I’ll do my worst.”
He looked interested. “What’s your worst?”
I thought for a moment. “Bubble-gum pop music from the 1980s, turned up to volume ten.”
“ Volume ten?” he mouthed incredulously, holding up all his fingers.
“Look at you go. First try and you got the right number of fingers up.”
“You think I can’t handle bubble-gum pop?”
“You couldn’t handle any of the N’SYNC songs I added to your playlist.”
He leaned closer to me, his amused eyes intent on mine. “Trust me, Books, I can handle a lot of things.”
I swallowed. Absolutely not appreciating the inappropriate flutterings in my stomach at his words.
“Alright,” I began, clearing my throat. “Maybe we do need your secret knock thing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. This will save me some trips over here.”
“Why do you assume you’re going to be coming to me?” He pointed to himself in mock disbelief .
I motioned to where I was standing. “Because you’re always the one causing trouble.”
His easy smile brandished before me like a weapon. “I do think it’s worth mentioning that, of the two of us, there’s only one person court-ordered to be here this summer.”
I picked an imaginary hair off my shirt. “The less I have to see your face outside of my appointed hours is probably for the best.”
“The life of a felon on parole,” he sighed.
“Probation.”
“Ah, my bad.”
At the exasperated shake of my head, I was rewarded—nay, punished—with another grin.
“I think we need to establish what happens if someone breaks the rules,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.
“I think they should get spanked.” He tucked his hands inside his pockets and leaned casually against the doorframe like he was the main character from a Sunny Palmer book.
I forced myself to skip over the imagery his comment brought to mind. “I’ll be calling Beau.”
“Interesting. So you’ll be calling one of my good friends to tell on me?”
“I’m guessing he’d be more than happy to get you in trouble.”
He smiled at that. “You’re probably right. What’s our code?”
“Let’s see if I can cover all my bases with Dax Miller.”
I started to say more before his eyes snapped to mine. “Wait. I’m suddenly interested in baseball. What bases will we be covering?”
I ignored him and held up a finger. “One knock means, turn it down .” I added one more finger to the bunch. “Two knocks means, TURN IT OFF RIGHT NOW . Three knocks means, I’m being murdered. Get over here . ”
There was a beat of questionable silence between us. Dax scratched his face.
“Wait. Let me make sure I understand,” he said, holding up a hand. “You are in the process of getting murdered, and you will somehow extract yourself before proceeding to the wall to give three distinct taps?”
“Yup,” I said, folding my arms.
“What’s the knock for, I’m hungry, do you have any food ?”
I smiled brightly. “There’s actually no knock for that. It’s just this.” At the sight of my middle finger, an impish grin crept onto his face, and something inside of me did a little flip.
“I think this summer might be the best I’ve had in a long time,” he said, smiling at me.
“Don’t mess with me, Dax. And turn your music down.”
“Good to see you too, Books.”
With that, he closed the door in my face.