The Year We Fell Apart (5 page)

Cory is staring at her too. Ice cream is dripping down his cone onto his hand. I wad a napkin up and throw it at his chest. His forehead wrinkles.

“You’re welcome,” I say sweetly.

Mackenzie looks at my ice cream and frowns. “Do you not like yours?”

“No, it’s fine. I just don’t have much of an appetite tonight.”

“Gotcha. Hey, we should make this a regular thing. Like, after class or something. You too, Cory.”

Cory lights up. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“Cool. Next round will be on me.” She smiles and finally sits back on the bench to finish her ice cream.

God, why does she have to be so nice? It makes it really hard to hate her.

Declan’s straw gives that end-of-the-line gurgle, and he sets the empty cup down. Gwen is done too. We wait for Mackenzie to finish—she’s seriously the slowest eater ever—before we all toss our cups in the trash. Mackenzie hugs Declan, and then suddenly her arms are around me.

“See you in class!”

I pat her on the back. “Yep. See you then.”

She bounces over to Gwen, and after another wave good-bye, the girls head over to an apple-red vintage car.

“Whoa.” Cory nudges Declan’s shoulder. “She drives a Datsun?”

“Yeah, a 240Z. From 1971, I think. She restored the engine herself.”

Beyond how to change a tire, I don’t know a thing about cars. “She did?”

Declan nods.

“Amazing,” Cory says. He practically needs a drool cup.

Mackenzie revs the engine and pulls out. The boys wait until they can no longer hear the purr of the engine before walking back to Declan’s Focus.

Ten minutes later, we’re parked in my driveway. Cory ruffles my hair from the backseat, which he knows I hate. I turn around to smack him, and he smirks at me.

“Night, guys.” His grin gets bigger, like I’m missing something.

He gets out and crosses over to his house. And then there were two.

And I still have no idea how to talk to Declan.

“So . . .”

“So.”

I tug at my seat belt and angle toward him. “My parents are having their Fourth of July party on Sunday.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m sure they’d like to see you,” I say, doing my best to keep from sounding too interested. “You should come by. If you’re free.”

“Okay.”

That’s kind of like a yes.

I click my seat belt off and grab my bag but stare at the steering wheel instead of getting out.

He still hasn’t asked about Kyle, or Jake, or Cory’s asshole comment about my drinking. Which probably means he doesn’t care.

Good. It’s none of his business, anyway. This is how it’s supposed to be now. This is what I wanted.

Right?

“Listen,” I say with a nonchalant shake of my head, like this is all a game. A big joke I am totally in on. “I know what you’re probably thinking after tonight. But it’s not . . . I mean, people say things that aren’t . . .”

The rest dissolves on my tongue. Declan’s fingers graze my collarbone and grasp the chain of my necklace. He pulls it out from underneath my shirt and slides down to the infinity pendant at the bottom before letting go.

“I know who you are.”

WHACK.
THE END OF A
carrot flies across the counter.

“Easy!” Mom says. She takes my knife away and hands me a bowl of avocados. “I’ll finish slicing the veggies. You can make the guacamole.”

She raises her eyebrow at me like she doesn’t trust me with a fork, either. She’s super on top of her game today, since in addition to celebrating our nation’s independence, this year’s party is also a sort of last hurrah before the chemo gets bad. In other words, we’re staging a portrait of a perfect family because our actual lives are now completely effed.

I get to work, but smashing avocados just doesn’t give me the same cathartic release as stabbing crudités.

“Was that a good sigh or a bad sigh?” she asks.

It was an accidental sigh. “Neither. I’m just . . . it’s complicated.”

Everything was so much simpler when we were kids. When I was just one of the guys. Before Declan’s mom got into that accident and everything started to change.

Grief affected all of us differently. Declan’s dad became withdrawn, pulling away from Declan when he should have been holding on tight. In turn, Declan got angry—filled with a hurt that simmered just beneath the surface and colored every conversation we had about his father. And grief made me afraid—of the unknown, of fate, if that’s what you want to call it. Afraid of losing people I loved. So after Natalie died, I spent the rest of that winter trying not to fall in love with Declan.

This was not a successful endeavor. Because in reality, I’d been falling in love with Declan for years.

He probably won’t even come tonight. And I certainly shouldn’t care.

I turn a few more avocado slices into mush. Mom watches over my shoulder. She has a history of just knowing things, serious psychic powers, and I’m beginning to feel a bit naked under her steady gaze.

“So you went out with Declan last night?”

See.

“And Cory. And some girls from my photography class.”

“Have fun?”

I nod and turn my attention back to the task at hand.

She wipes her hands on a dish towel. “Bridget told me he’s looking pretty cute these days.”

I swear, Mom and Bridget are worse than the girls at school with their gossip. And now she’s just standing there, watching for my reaction with crazy hawk-lady eyes.

“Um . . . I haven’t really noticed.”

“So you don’t have a crush on him anymore?”

“Oh my God. Mom.”

“You two were so sweet together, is all I’m saying.” She stops arranging the veggie tray and looks over the rim of her glasses at me. “You’re not still interested in that boy from the spring, are you?”

“No. I told you, I don’t talk to him.” Unless you count last night. Which I don’t.

Dad comes in through the back porch and stops to give Mom a slow, grimace-inducing kiss.

“Do you know where the big ice bucket is?” he asks her.

“Garage.”

“Ah.” He turns toward me. “Your mother has all the answers, doesn’t she?”

With great effort on my part, I manage to pull off a smile instead of rolling my eyes clear across the county. Mom holds out until Dad leaves the room before continuing her investigation. This waiting for privacy is an illusion designed to lull me into the security of our “friendship.” The reality is, she will recount this entire conversation word for word to my dad later tonight.

“Well, do you like anyone else?”

The memory of Kyle’s lips on mine swarms my mind. Not that making out with Kyle is really worth remembering. His mouth tasted like cigarettes and cheese puffs. It was not awesome.

“No, I don’t,” I finally say, because she isn’t going to wrap this up until I at least acknowledge I’ve heard her.

“But you would tell me if you were serious about someone, or thinking about becoming sexually active, wouldn’t you?”

Sweet lord, this conversation needs to end.

“Yep,” I say quickly, “you’ll be the first to know.”

After arranging the chip-and-dip platter at the speed of light, I make my escape. I find my brother sitting on the porch swing out front.

“I guess we should probably clean ourselves up soon,” he says when I plop down beside him.

“Won’t take long. Mom has already preselected a few dresses I’m allowed to wear,” I tell him.

“She’s still doing that? Man, I’m glad I’ve finally reached the point where she trusts me to clothe myself.”

“Must be nice.”

“Well, it’s a trust that has to be earned, Harper.”

“Stop.”

“Dressing yourself is a privilege, not a right.”

“Jerk.”

He grins broadly. “Hey, I’m just teasing. I know you’ve done your time. Seems like things have returned to normal around here.”

My head rolls back and I stare up at the sky. I pick out a cloud shaped like a squirrel and watch as the wind disfigures it. “Normal? Um, no, I wouldn’t put it that way, exactly. I’m not grounded anymore, but Mom and Dad still bring up the pool every chance they get.”

“They’ll get over it.”

“Sure. Maybe even before my thirtieth birthday.” I pick a cottonwood seed off my shirt and listen to the screeches of little kids playing an epic game of tag down the street.

The closest Graham has ever gotten to anything resembling trouble was the time he pulled a C-minus in trig. And even then, he got his grade up to a B-plus by the end of the year. He simply doesn’t have the same bent for bringing shame upon the family that I do.

“Anyway, it’s been tense lately,” I say. “And now, this whole thing with Mom.”

“Yeah, I know.” He scratches his cheek. “Hey, if it gets to be too much . . . I mean, when I was home over Christmas, you weren’t really in the best of shape. If you ever need to talk to someone . . .”

“Thanks.” I wrap my arms around my knees. “I’m better, though. Totally.”

We settle into a peaceful quiet broken only by kids laughing and the high-pitched call of a cardinal. I spot its red feathers in a pine tree beside the porch just as Mom comes out to tell me to get changed.

“And, Graham, why don’t you put on a nice collared shirt,” she adds before stepping back inside.

My lips curl in and press together to keep a laugh from coming out, but I can feel Graham’s eyes on me.

“Shut up.”

“Didn’t say a thing.”

  *  *  *  

Of the three dresses Mom set out, only one of them is tolerable. A simple green sundress with a halter top. I slip it on and go into the bathroom to tame my curls.

After running a flat iron over the same section of hair four times with underwhelming results, I decide to tap the porcelain plate to make sure it’s hot enough.

“Owshitfuck.”
I throw the flat iron into the sink.

I yank the plug out of the wall and move the flat iron to the counter so that I can run cold water over my pointer finger.

Voices travel up from the front of my house and I peek through the window blinds. I can only see Cory from this angle, but I would recognize Declan’s voice anywhere.

I look at the mirror again. Somehow, my hair has gotten even bigger in the last few minutes. Clearly the straightened look is out. Fine. It’s way too hot to be messing with a flat iron anyway.

Splashing my face with cold water, I try to get rid of the flush on my cheeks. Then I pull my hair into a ponytail that is slightly lopsided but will have to be good enough because I can hear them inside now, and Mom will be calling me down any second.

Doubling back, I apply a dab of floral perfume on each wrist and rub them along my neck.

The boys are standing in the foyer, each holding a bag of ice and listening to Graham recount the glory days of his freshman year. Halfway down the stairs, I lock eyes with Declan. His gaze drifts to my dress. One eyebrow raises and I freeze.

I glance down. This dress has been in the back of my closet for a year. I’d completely forgotten about it. But apparently Declan hasn’t. And then it hits me. I wore it the night before he went away to school last August.

Changing now would be absurd. He’s already seen me. So I squeeze the banister and move down the last few steps.

Graham sees me coming. He puts his arm around Declan and slouches into his
Boy, have I got a story for you
stance.

“So, either of you still after my little sister?”

I punch him in the shoulder. Then, for a splinter of a second, my eyes meet Declan’s again.

Graham rubs his arm and smirks at me, not looking the least bit repentant. “That actually hurt.”

“Here, let me take that for you.” I grab the bag of ice from Declan and beeline for the back door. Cory follows me outside with the second bag, tossing it down in the cooler next to mine. He tears one open and I hold an ice cube against my burned finger.

“Graham is such a spaz,” I say.

“He’s just being an older brother, right?”

“I guess. Although it’s not like he has anything to worry about with you guys.”

Cory is silent for a beat. He tugs at the collar of his T-shirt, which like every shirt he owns is stretched tight across his back and shoulders and hangs loosely around his narrow waist. “You sure about that?”

The ice starts to melt, sending a river down my arm. Abruptly I’m transported back to last summer, a time when Declan and I were inseparable.

For months, I had tried not to get my hopes up every time Declan held my hand in his. Tried not to let my heart break when we were around Cory and he’d put a few extra inches of space between us. Declan was still grieving, and his healing was the most important thing. So I did what any good friend would have done. I kept my mouth shut and my feelings bottled. But we were so much a part of each other already, I couldn’t imagine going a day without seeing him. And by that spring, Declan had stopped putting space between us.

Last summer we’d spend entire afternoons at the quarry, and sometimes it was so hot that even swimming wasn’t enough to cool us off. Days like that, Declan would fish an ice cube out of the cooler and hold it at the base of my neck, blowing as the water dripped down my back.

I shiver now as Declan slides open the screen door and ambles over to us. I throw what’s left of the ice cube at Cory and wipe my hands on my skirt.

“Not interrupting anything, am I?” Declan’s eyes flick back and forth between Cory and me, and I shake my head.

Dad swoops in and claps Declan on the shoulder. “Declan! So good to see you, son. How’ve you been?”

“Can’t complain.” Declan smiles at Dad and then shifts his gaze down to the patio bricks.

“How’s your golf game these days?”

“Not bad. Actually, I just got a job caddying over at Forest Hills. It’s only a few days a week, but I get to play some free rounds when it’s not busy.”

“That’s great. And I hear you’re really enjoying your new school?”

Declan straightens. “Did my father tell you that?”

Dad nods. “You know if he’s coming by tonight?”

“Yeah. He’s just out front wrapping up a call for work. I’m sure he’ll be done shortly.”