AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My sister shot her fiancé a look. “Can we talk about happier things?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, even though I didn’t care either way. “When’s this wedding, or are you two going to run away and elope?” The mere thought of having to get dressed up and go to a wedding was one of the worst I could have. Weddings were not my thing—not that I’d ever been to one, but still.
Claire and Tyler told me what they were thinking, though it was mostly Claire. A small wedding at a nearby church, then here for a reception. Get catering and a DJ. A cheaper route than renting out a hall. Claire seemingly had it all figured out.
Our mom and dad joined us after a while, while Claire was busy talking about where she’d want her honeymoon. After she explained everything a second time so our parents could hear, Tyler sheepishly said, “I’m down for whatever she wants.”
“Good man,” my dad spoke with a nod. He took a sip from his Coke can and added, “You know what they say: happy wife, happy life.”
I sat on the right side of the picnic table; my parents had taken up the rest of the bench with me, while Claire and Tyler sat across from us. They talked more about the engagement, when the wedding was going to be, all that good stuff. I honestly tuned them out, because it was boring.
That, and I didn’t really care. Sue me. It wasn’t so much that I was tired pretending to be happy for Claire—I was genuinely happy for her and her future married bliss. It’s more like it was just exhausting, smiling and asking questions and listening to the answers like I gave a crap.
Visualizing the future was hard for me. It always had been, because every time I did, the things I saw when I closed my eyes, I didn’t like.
As if proving my own point, I closed my eyes for a moment and was thrown back in time.
Summers were my favorite part of life. I hated school—it sucked—so me having my birthday in the summer was perfect luck. It meant I got to invite my friends over and stay out in the sun all day.
And my favorite person always came.
Amelia and the others were outside, at the picnic table, cooling down after we’d played a few games of badminton… although I wasn’t sure whether or not we played it right, but who cared? I decided to slip inside to get some ice—nothing better than chewing on some ice when it was ninety-plus degrees outside and you felt like one big ball of sweat.
The kitchen was quiet when I walked in through the back, and I headed straight for the refrigerator. Mom and Dad were outside near the grill, and Claire was upstairs, talking to some boy on the phone. She only came down when it was time for food, too cool to hang out with her younger sister.
I opened the freezer to get to the ice box the same time I heard someone say, “If it isn’t the birthday girl. How old are you now?”
I stopped short of an ice cube, stepping away from the freezer as I turned and saw Uncle Dave standing in the archway, between the kitchen and the hall. He must’ve come inside the house through the front door just now; I hadn’t heard him.
“Nine,” I proudly told him, and I practically squealed when I saw the big box wrapped up in pink paper in his hands, otherwise I would’ve raced to him to hug him.
Uncle Dave was a few years younger than my dad, but he was so much cooler. He didn’t have a wife or kids, but that was okay, because that meant he could visit us on holidays and birthdays.
He went to set the present on the kitchen table, and then set his hands on his hips as he shook his head, repeating, “Nine. You’re growing up so fast, Charlie.” He smiled at me, and he didn’t miss a beat. He strolled over to me, closing the distance between us in less than five seconds, and before I knew it, I was engulfed in a hug.
And I hugged him back. I hugged him back for a long time, because that’s what Uncle Dave and I did. It didn’t bother me—not then, just like his smile didn’t bother me.
Both those things changed as I grew up, and it eventually got to the point where I couldn’t look at Uncle Dave without wanting to throw up. But I smiled and pretended, kept all the secrets he told me to, because I was a good girl. Because I trusted him.
There’s nothing more dangerous to a little girl than giving her trust to the wrong person.
“Time will fly,” my dad was busy saying, “don’t you worry. You’ll blink and—” He paused. “Who’s this?” My eyes were still closed, so I couldn’t see who it was, but just from the way his tone changed, my stomach dropped.
For a second, it was like I was thrown back in time, old enough to be anxious about Uncle Dave coming to family gatherings, and when I opened my eyes, I half expected Uncle Dave to stroll down the steps on the porch with an easygoing smile on his face.
I hadn’t seen Uncle Dave in about a year and a half, just before Zak and I broke up. He’d opened up his own car repair shop a few hours away. He’d been too busy ever since—not that I could complain about that.
But it wasn’t Uncle Dave.
Unfortunately, it was the next person I never wanted to see strolling down the porch steps like he’d been here before. I mean, hehadbeen here before, but not like this.
Brett.
He had a hand shoved into his pocket, his legs clad in tight jeans, maybe a size too small. He wore a dark shirt I remember buying him from Goodwill—getting stain-free clothes hadn’t been too easy—and the shirt hugged him in all the right places, showing off the muscles on his arms and the flatness of his abdomen. The sunglasses I’d bought him sat on his face, situated just above a smile.
What the hell was he doing here? I told him to watch the house, not stroll in like he owned the place. What was he thinking?
“Charlie didn’t tell you?” Brett asked, running a single hand through his dyed brown hair… and flexing his muscles as he did so.
