Summer Alone (Summer #1) (6 page)

“I don’t think we can call that music. It was just uncoordinated sounds that were impossibly loud.”

I nod. A shadow falls to my right. Braedon’s shadow. He moved himself so far into my personal space that he’s casting shadows on me. My toes start to tingle and I wriggle them from inside my shoes.
Please please please don’t do this to yourself. He doesn’t like you.

“So,” Braedon says, drawing out the word as if he doesn’t know what to say next. “I kind of want to talk about last night.”

“What happened last night?” I’m not sure if playing dumb is the right way to go about this, and by the quick look of hurt that flashes across his face, it probably wasn’t.

He runs a hand through his hair. I watch the muscles in his forearm flex and focus on that one vein that bulges along his skin. “Uh, nothing really. Just about how I texted you so late. Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s no problem.” I lean to the right and nudge him with my shoulder. “You worry too much, Brae. Your friend didn’t bother me, I promise.”

He smiles and my toes get all tingly again. Dammit, why does this happen to me? Why am I even out here talking to him? I’m supposed to be moving on from my stupid crush. Braedon swallows and opens his mouth, then closes it. “What?” I say, a little too severely.

He shakes his head and gnaws on his bottom lip, all while staring at some empty space of nothingness in front of him. I nudge him in the shoulder again. “What are you thinking? Just spit it out, geez.”

His head rests against the wall behind us and he looks up at the sky. “You are the only person in the world who calls me
Brae
.”

“Really?” I feel a little stupid because I thought he would say something more profound than a small observation on his name. “That’s weird. People always shorten names. My name is just a shorter form of my real name.”

He shakes his head with that big smile still on his lips. “Nah, you don’t get it. No one calls me Brae because I don’t allow them to do it. I think that’s a stupid name for a guy. It sounds girly.”

“Oh.” I swallow. My fingers feel cold against the wall behind me. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

He lets out a quick breath, almost like he’s laughing but in the most sarcastic way. “You don’t get it, Becca.” He leans forward, letting his head dip down so that we’re closer to eye level. “Or maybe you do get it and you’re just screwing with me. Maybe that’s it.”

My forehead wrinkles. “I don’t get it, whatever it is. Trust me, I don’t. Look, I won’t call you Brae anymore.”

“You can call me Brae. You can call me whatever you want.” He swallows and stares at the ground. In this very instant, I feel a horde of butterflies burst to life inside my rib cage. Braedon is nervous. Nervous to be around
me
. My mouth is dry, but I find the words and force myself to say them. “What exactly are you trying to tell me?”

His fingers clench into a fist at his side and then they release and clench back up again. I’m so tempted to take his hand in my own, and I don’t even know why. Why would I be so bold? I don’t think even Bayleigh is
that
bold. When he speaks, his voice is barely louder than a whisper. “What I’m trying to tell you….”

“
Yo!”

The serenity of the moment is gone. Smashed to bits by the guy who waves his hand in the air as he jogs toward us. He’s wearing dark purple skinny jeans and a studded belt that shines in the sunlight.

“Hey Dustin,” Braedon says, not even hiding the disappointment in his voice.

“Did I miss the shoot?” Dustin’s boots slap against the concrete as he slows down and catches his breath.
I hadn’t noticed it the first time I met him, but his left arm is also covered in tattoos, all of them quotes by the looks of it. I wonder if he knows of any motivational quotes that would help me out this summer.

Braedon shakes his head. “Nah, you’re good. They’re just warming up.”

“Sweet!” Dustin checks his cell phone, types a reply and then slides it back into his pocket. “New girl,” he says, pointing a finger at me. “What was your name again?”

“Becca,” I say, glancing up at Braedon. He had said my name at the same time.

“Becca! Duh, I knew that,” Dustin says, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity. “Are you single?”

“Dude, you can’t just ask that—” Braedon says, stepping forward, but Dustin cuts him off with a shake of his head. “It’s not for me. I have a girlfriend.”

“Then why are you asking?” Braedon says. “I told you guys not to harass her.”

“It’s fine,” I say, placing my hand on Braedon’s arm. He tenses at my touch. “I am single,” I say, glancing at Braedon to see his reaction. His jaw is clenched and he’s pretending not to pay attention. For some reason, this makes me crush on him even harder. “But I’m not interested in any of those guys on Facebook,” I tell Dustin. I crinkle
my nose up in disgust just to prove my point. My hand is still on Braedon’s arm and I feel his biceps loosen. He shifts on his feet.

“Man screw those guys,” Dustin says, making a face like he thinks they’re all idiots. I can’t say I disagree with him. From what I’ve read online, those guys
are
idiots. Good thing most of them prefer to express themselves through online comments and are too shy to talk to me when they come ride at C&C.

Dustin peers through the doors and checks his phone again.

“My friend thinks you’re cute and since he’s never in town I thought I could get your number and talk him into dropping by more.”

I balk at his forwardness. “You were going to use my heart for your own personal gain?” My hands press against my hips and I give him my best
oh no you didn’t
glare. “There’s no way your friends are hot enough for me to put up with that.”

But they think I’m cute
, the tiny voice in my head sings. It must be the new hair.
But still, someone thinks I’m cute!

Dustin laughs and looks through his phone again, holding it up to me with a number on the call screen. “Why don’t you tell that to Nolan Park yourself?”

My chest goes cold at the mention of Nolan’s name. Is he serious? There’s no way. In my shocked silence, Braedon finds time to speak up. “Dude get out of here. Stop flaunting your famous friend around. It won’t get you any girls, you know.”

“Hey, come on now,” Dustin says, holding up his hands, one of them still holding his phone. “Like I said, I’m not trying to get girls for myself. I’m trying to get my best friend to visit me.”

“It won’t work,” Braedon says, standing to his full height. He’s not massive or anything, but next to Dustin’s lean frame, Braedon is intimidating. “She’s not even eighteen, so seriously dude, just leave.”

“Ah, never mind. Jail bait.” Dustin winks at me before turning and heading toward the door. It slides open and lets out the fury of the grunge metal music playing inside. “Carry on!”

I’m grateful for the loud music because at least it covers the sound of my heartbeat thumping like crazy. “That was…interesting.” I try to laugh but I can’t stop gnawing on my bottom lip. Plus I’m pretty sure my face is the color of a strawberry right about now.

“Not really.” Braedon’s lips form a tight line. “I’m sure you hear shit like that all the time.”

I look up at him. “Actually, I—” Braedon cuts me off with a sigh. He steps away from the wall and runs a hand through his hair. He doesn’t even look at me when he talks. “I’m going back to work.”

Braedon stays pissed off for the next hour. All he does is lean against the front counter, staring at his phone or looking at the floor with his lips pressed into a thin line. He isn’t even texting. I know this because every time I glance at his phone, the screen is off. I can’t even pretend to know why he’s acting like this. Pissed off Braedon is not something I’ve ever seen before now.

The band plays the same song over and over again while their diehard fans dance around for the music video as if they haven’t heard the same chorus play a thousand billion times already. As long as the film crew is here, we don’t have any real work to do, besides stand around the front counter and wait for this to be over.

I’m sitting on the floor, my back against the wall and my head leaning against the shelf behind the counter. I feel like I should say or do something, but I don’t know what. It’s like there’s some kind of spell over the BMX park today, and it has nothing to do with Zombie Radio’s video shoot. I can pretend to be naive and act like I don’t know why things are weird, but even the old Becca knows that would never work. Things are weird because Braedon was about to reveal something, something personal, something embarrassing to me. He was this freaking close to spilling his guts and telling me exactly what was bothering him.

That he liked me.

I know it. I know that’s what he was going to say. Why else would he let me get away with calling him a nickname that he normally hates? Another thought occurs to me as I stare at Braedon’s backside from my spot on the floor: what else would he let me get away with?

Does he like me the way Steven Marshall likes Katie Emmett? Would he let me borrow his clothes and lean over and take bites of his ice cream without asking? Could I change his Facebook status and become best friends with his little sister?

Or does he like me the way Ian likes Bayleigh, where he’d like me just long enough to talk me into hooking up with him and then dump me for the next available girl?

My good mood darkens when I try to picture Braedon being the same type of guy as Ian. He certainly doesn’t seem like that kind of guy, at least not on the surface. His Facebook pictures are boring and his status updates are never about girls. Not that I’ve been looking at his page very often or anything…

Plus he seemed extra protective of me when Dustin asked me if I were single and every single time someone says something about me on the C&C Facebook page, Braedon basically tells them to shove it.

I smile and look up at the bright blue shirt Braedon wears while he leans over the counter, staring at his phone. He definitely likes me in the Steven Marshall way.

I’m not able to bask in the enjoyment of knowing Braedon likes me very long, because as soon as I remember the incident with Dustin, I remember something else that deserves a little obsessive analyzing: Nolan Park thinks I’m cute?

Ugh, never mind. I can’t think about Nolan Park. He’s obviously too old for me and he doesn’t even live around here since Dustin has to bribe him to come visit. I remember his infrequent logins on the computer and remind myself that he’s probably the same type of guy as Ian. He’s crazy hot and he knows it. He probably flirts with girls in every town he visits. That’s not the kind of guy that deserves to occupy my thoughts all day long.

From a few feet away, Braedon sighs and drums his fingers on the counter, keeping beat with the drummer on stage. He stares out of the doors, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“Hey,” I call out. He glances down at me and lifts an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. Only, I didn’t have anything planned after that initial word, so I scramble for something to say. “You’d think they could just film the band pretending to play music and then add the music into the video later.”

“Yeah. That would be a good idea.” He gives me a wry smile and then turns back to the ever important task of staring at the countertop.

His profile is so freaking cute, even if he is making this morose sad puppy face as he absentmindedly traces shapes on the counter. The boy wears his emotions on his sleeve and for some reasoning out of my control, I want grab him and hug him and never let him be sad again. I wonder if he feels my eyes on him? If he knows that I’m thinking about him as much as he’s obviously thinking about me?

“Hey…” I say again, only this time I draw out the word letting him know there’s something super important at the end of this sentence. It won’t be like the last time I said it.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t even look over at me. Oh well, I’m not discouraged. Instead, I take in a deep breath and imagine that I am sitting across the room, watching this scene unfold with Bayleigh in my place. She would make sure to get what she wants. And so will I.

“Come here.”

“I am here.”

“You’re not as
here
as you could be,” I say, patting my hand on the floor next to me. Braedon glances around as if seeking permission to leave that spot on the floor. “Hurry,” I whisper. I don’t even know what kind of smile I have, because it’s the kind of smile I know I’ve never made before. It’s sneaky. Exhilarating.

Braedon grins and looks around again before closing the space between us in two steps. He drops to the floor beside me, pressing his back against the wall. He pulls his knees up and rests his arms on them. He smells like coconut shampoo and coffee. “Is this better?”

The butterflies in my stomach feel like they have butterflies in their stomachs and then I’m wondering if butterflies even have a stomach and I know it’s just because my mind doesn’t want to stay focused on the task at hand. Summoning that endless courage I seem to get when reading an inspirational, motivational quote, I let my head fall to the right until it rests on Braedon’s shoulder.

He doesn’t make me wait forever, wondering if he’s going to return the gesture or shrug me off of him. He just tilts his head until it rests on top of mine and just like that, the entire world feels perfect. I barely even notice the screeching music that saturates the room with its awfulness. We sit like this for a while, neither one of us speaking. I think we’re both trying to figure out something to say that won’t ruin the moment.

I crack first. I lift my head but keep my shoulder pressed against his and look over at him. “Finish telling me what you were going to say outside.”

“I think you know what I was going to say.”

A grin tugs at the corner of my mouth. “So say it anyway.”

Braedon’s fingers intertwine. “If I say it, things will change.”

“So say it.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Do you want things to change?”

“Duh!” I smile but his face turns serious. “I didn’t think you wanted that.”

“You didn’t think I wanted what?” I ask, peering into his brown eyes. He swallows and stares at this hands. I nudge him with my shoulder. I wish feelings and emotions weren’t so damn hard to talk about. “Talk to me,” I whisper.

He sighs and runs his tongue over his lips. I almost throw my arms around his neck and kiss him like crazy but, well, I’m not that bold yet. So far words are the only weapon in my summer transformation arsenal. After another tense moment, he says, “If I talk to you then I’ll change everything. I’ll ruin what you want.”

“What do you mean? How do you know what I want?”

“You made it perfectly clear what you want, Becca. In front of me and my friend and our boss.”

A wince flashes across my face before I can help it. My stomach knots up and I replay the earlier conversation in my mind. “I said we were just friends…” He nods. “Do you want to be just friends with me, Becca?”

It’s the moment of truth. Only it’s happening all wrong.
He
was supposed to tell me how he felt.
He
was supposed to take the leap, risk total embarrassment and rejection. Now it’s all on me. My first reaction is to nod, play it off like we’re just friends and that’s all we’ll ever be. It’ll be easy. It will take away all the anxiety and fear of rejection. I can say yes and this whole thing will blow over and go back to normal.

But normal isn’t fun.

Normal doesn’t make for good memories.

“No.” The word is barely out of my mouth before Braedon kisses me. It’s quick but passionate. It’s startling and comforting. His mouth tastes like glazed donuts and French vanilla coffee creamer. He pulls away and watches me for a reaction but all I can do is stare at him, open mouthed and gasping for air. His forehead leans closer and I think he’ll kiss me again, but he rests his forehead on mine instead. “Say something,” he whispers as his hands slide into mine, interlacing our fingers and pulling them into his lap.

I say the only thing on my mind. “Do it again.”

He smiles and wraps a hand around my hair, pulling me into him, kissing me for the second time. And the third. And forth. I squeeze his hands and he squeezes back and we share an epic moment together, both hidden from view of everyone at C&C BMX Park.

Brendan’s lips press into mine and a flurry of crazy emotions tumble through me. He smiles and I smile and everything, everything except for Zombie Radio’s song, is good. There is not a quote or a lyric or any words of wisdom that someone else has ever said that will fully describe this moment. I don’t know the words to describe my situation as elegantly as Marilyn Monroe or with the wisdom of Shakespeare, but maybe every part of life doesn’t need to be put into words.

I don’t need some fancy quote to tell me that this summer is a new beginning.
My
new beginning.

And the best part? I won’t be spending it alone.

###