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Carefree Titus. The unrequited love of my life.
Things are going to change a heck of a lot, and soon. And I’m dreading it. Even though Titus will be attending Pine Mountain University with us, I know we’ll see less of each other.
Herc and I met Titus at Twin Oaks Community Center tennis camp when we were 12 years old, and the three of us instantly took to each other. Titus was gangly and goofy at the time, but to my eyes, he was so dreamy. He was different from my big, soft-spoken brother. The other boy was always laughing about something, tossing back his floppy hair. The way Titus would talk to people while chucking his racket in the air and catching it without even looking was my sexual awakening.
Titus practically lived at our house that first summer together and every summer after. He would bike up the mountain, turning down the offer of our driver picking him up. As a result, Titus rode his bike everywhere and was tanned, freckled, and had dark hair streaked with blonde. He had calves that made all the girls on the beginner cheerleading squad weak.
When Titus finally hit puberty, I was an absolute goner. Not only did he bulk up and his voice change, but his hair grew even darker, which made his hazel eyes all the more striking. His changing face took on a more masculine jawline and cheekbones, and he would often catch me staring at him when I let my guard down.
“What are you looking at, Squeaks?”
I’d narrow my eyes and say, “You have spinach in your teeth!”
Titus had started calling me Squeaks because of the noise of my wet flip-flops one summer afternoon. Herc had been away with travel football, and Titus and I had the house to ourselves. I was so overwrought with emotions while alone with Titus that I’d clammed up, which was unusual for me.
“Well, if you’re not gonna talk, then I’ll talk to those squeaky flip-flops,” Titus had remarked. “Is that so, flip-flops? You don’t say…tell me more about why Cassandra’s acting so weird?’”
I roll my eyes whenever he calls me Squeaks, but I want to kiss him for even thinking about me enough to give me a nickname. I’m such a freaking head case around the boy.
By the time we were 14, Titus was on a first-name basis with everyone on staff at the house and even with Daddy and Momma. “Dex and his better half,” he called them. Everyone was scared of Dad except for Titus, and somehow that made Dad laugh.
Our mom, Libby, adored Titus and always made a special effort to cook his favorite food when he visited. That started as soon as she’d heard that Titus’s mother had taken off when he was just a baby and that his dad was raising him alone. From that day forward, Mom always had a guest room ready for Titus and a cupboard full of his favorite snacks.
Some days, when Titus was not visiting for whatever reason, I lived on Facebook and Instagram, watching for signs of him. I realize now that was a bit much. But I was a teenager, and I was completely infatuated.
If there were any evidence of Titus having a girlfriend, I would feel my heart racing and my blood boiling. Jealous? Yes. I would investigate until I found out who the woman in the photos was, and nine times out of ten, it was a cousin, a teammate, or just a random friend. But you’d better believe I couldn’t sleep until it settled in my mind that he wasn’t dating anyone.
On the outside, I was just fun-loving Cassandra. I was captain of the cheer squad, dance team, tennis team, debate team, and drama club, and I never said no to a party. I casually dated in friend groups but never exclusively dated anyone. My line was always, “I’m in high school; I don’t want to be tied down.”
Those were the words my mother had prepared me with. I’d confided to her that I had a crush on a boy who would never notice me. She’d told me not to chase him but also that I should date around and have fun while I waited. “Maybe someday he’ll notice. Or if he doesn’t, you’ll have moved on. Either way, you won’t waste time pining when you could have been having fun with your friends.”
So that’s what I did, on the outside.
But on the inside? Zero chill. I would have run off and married Titus if he’d up and asked me.
But he never has, and now at 18, I do not believe he ever will. Not that I’m itching to get married at 18. But at this age, everything feels like an eternity, especially when the boy you love doesn’t love you back.
Now that I’m thinking about Titus—and I’m always thinking about Titus—I’d almost rather have him drive us to school than Dad…because I have this sinking feeling something is going to come up that will prevent Dad from driving us. And Mom…well. Sadly, she doesn’t get to see us head off to college. But enough of that terrible emotion. I lock that back up immediately; she’d hate for me to dwell in my grief.
“There’s a reason he travels light,” I reply to Herc, lobbing the ball back to him. “Titus already has a storage unit near campus. He’s always three steps ahead. It’s a calculated type of carefree.”
“True,” Herc says, giving me a weird look. Or maybe it’s me just reading into it—I always wonder if Herc’s picking up on my babbling on and on when it comes to Titus. Geez, I have it bad.
Dad’s car appears around the bend in the tree-lined driveway, traveling much faster than usual.
Curious about the hurry, I stop and watch the Land Rover speed up the hill. The ball that Herc has just aimed at me smacks me in the forehead.
“Ow! Idiot!” I cover the spot with both hands, the shock and the impact bringing tears to my eyes.
“Are you okay? You weren’t paying attention!” Herc shouts, running over to check on me.
I forget about Dad and the speeding Land Rover. My eyes closed with Herc fussing over me, I hear the tires squeak to a halt in the driveway instead of the garage, the car door close, and the beeping of the keypad at the front door, then the house door slamming shut.
That’s weird. He didn’t even stop to say hello. I open one eye and peep at two more black cars and a black van driving up.
Uh…what?
Unlike Dad, though, those other vehicles park on either end of the circle driveway, blocking the Land Rover. Something is very, very wrong here.
