“Ady. There you are.”
“Hey, Micah.”
“Where’re you off to?”
“The quad with all the other derelict youths,” I exhaust with a dramatic eye roll.
“Funny.” He smirks because this school is filled with elitist offspring of the rich and richer. “We’re heading out for lunch today. Wanna come?”
“You sneaking out?”
He laughs. “It’s an open campus, Guppy. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
I follow him to his truck and hop in. “Where are we going?”
“The Cheesery is at the bay today.”
“The Cheesery?”
“Best food truck in the city. It’s normally over in Palm Harbor, but every now and then it comes to South Tampa,” he tells me before turning up the music and laying a heavy foot on the gas pedal.
Micah is the epitome of what I would imagine any surfer to look like, but it’s his easygoing attitude that draws me to him. It’s only my second day at school, and he’s gone out of his way to ease my awkwardness. Not that I show it. I do my best to feign indifference to the dread of trying to fit in.
When we arrive, Micah introduces me to a handful of other kids from our school that are already there. The girls give me a fleeting hello, and I stick to Micah’s side, not wanting to be the odd man out.
Once we have our food, we carry our Styrofoam containers to the park that edges along the water. All of us scatter about in small groups and sit on the manicured grass as business men and women stroll about, enjoying their mid-day break.
“Got any plans this weekend?”
Micah catches me with a mouthful of melted cheese and caramelized apples.
“Shit’s good, huh?”
I nod with an awkward laugh from my belly as I swallow the massively unattractive bite. I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth, and then Micah leans over and takes a bite out of my sandwich.
“Hey! Eat your own.”
“Dude, that’s good,” he says around the food in his mouth.
“Next time, you should order it instead of stealing bites out of mine.”
“A woman territorial over her food. I like it.”
I playfully nudge his shoulder and catch a few glances from the group of girls huddled across the lawn from us, sipping their Diet Cokes. “Is this the typical welcoming, or should I be bothered by the disaffection?” I give a slight nod in the girls’ direction.
“Ignore them. They’re starved-for-attention bunnies.” With a questioning glance, I wait for him to explain. “Bunnies are chicks who flock to the beaches and hope to get noticed. They pretend to be down, but most of them are too uptight to get a little salt in their hair.”
I dip a fry in some ketchup and toss it into my mouth.
“But you . . . you’re of a different breed than that of around here.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He shakes his head and stands. “I’m gonna go grab another drink. Need anything?”
“I’m good.”
I drop the other half of my gourmet grilled cheese into the container, too full to go on in my gluttony, and wipe my greasy hands on a napkin. With the sun beating down on me, I lower my sunglasses over my eyes and enjoy the warmth of this much-too-hot spring. As I look around, I give a friendly smile to the girls when they glance my way, but I don’t stay on them for more than a beat before moving on. When I spot Kason, who I hadn’t realized was here, he’s alone on the edge of the wall that drops down to the water.
I stare curiously from behind my dark lenses, wondering why he’s isolating himself from everyone. Not wanting to stew in my thoughts, I decide to make my way over to him. A tinge of insecurity flares with each step I take, but I figure I have nothing to lose by going over to say hi. I notice he has earbuds in, and he doesn’t sense my presence until I climb onto the stone wall and sit next to him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks after pulling the buds out of his ears.
“I rode with Micah.”
He looks out over the water, and the silence that strings between us does nothing for the awkwardness, so I force myself to speak.
“How come you’re sitting over here all by yourself?”
“You say that as if solitude is a bad thing.”
“Just as long as you avoid hermit status,” I respond lightly, and I relax a little when he breaks a slight smile.
“You seem to be easing in quickly.”
I shrug.
“You don’t think so?”
“There’s nothing easy about moving halfway across the country from all my friends and family only to be the new kid.”
I shoot him a quick glance from the corner of my eye to see him looking at me.
“I’m impressed.”
“By?” I question.
“Your fakery,” he responds with a smirk. “And here I assumed your confidence only to find out it’s all an act.”
“Well . . . not all of it.”
“So, tell me, where’s home?”
“Texas.”
He gives an exaggerated nod. “That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“The accent,” he says before adding with jest, “and the way you were inhaling that grilled cheese.”
I push my hand against his arm as he laughs. “So, you were spying on me?”
“That’s a stretch. You’re sitting out here in the open.”
His smile is infectious, and the uncertainty I was feeling is no longer present as I laugh right along with him.
“In my defense, and to appear slightly more on the delicate side, I only ate half of it.” His amusement drags on, and I change the focus off me when I ask, “What are you listening to anyway?” I grab one of his earbuds and am surprised when I hear a narrator. “What’s this?”
“The Metamorphosis.” He closes the app, pops the bud out of my ear, and sets his phone down.
“Why are you listening to an audio book?”
“Because I work and I don’t want to fall behind in this class.”
I refrain from mentioning that one of the houses he works at is mine.
“What class has you reading The Metamorphosis?”
“It’s an AP course.”
“Book nerd?”
“Far from it.” He chuckles. “Just thinking ahead.”
Going back to what Micah told me about Kason not living in a neighborhood that floods into the school we go to, and also the fact that I doubt many of the kids at the school hold down a job, my curiosity about Kason piques. I want to ask more, but I don’t. The last thing I need to do is butt in where I’m not wanted.
“I haven’t given much thought to college.” I instantly regret my words after hearing how flippant they sound when spoken aloud when he’s clearly given purposeful attention to what I haven’t. “That sounded trite. It isn’t that I don’t value—”
“You don’t sound trite.”
“Ady,” Micah calls as he and Trent walk over. “Do you mind riding back with Kason?”
“Where are you going?”
“Beach.”
“You’re ditching?”
“Brogan just called. He has the jet skis out at Clearwater,” Trent says. “Wanna come?”
Kason stands and shoves his phone into his pocket. “It’s her second day. She isn’t ditching with you two drones.”
“You good, Ady?”
I give Micah a nod and then take his hand when he reaches down to help me up. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. And Kason’s right. I can’t skip out on class.”
“Text me later if you wanna meet up after school.”
The two of them run off, leaving me behind with Kason, and my chest flutters at the thought of spending more alone time with him.
“We need to get going,” he says, and I follow alongside as he leads me to his car.
He walks over to an old muscle car, unlocks the passenger side door, and opens it for me. I shoot him a smile and slip in. His scent blends with the aged leather, and I can’t help myself when I take in a lungful.
When he’s behind the wheel, I buckle my seat belt. He works the pedal a few times before turning the key that brings the car to life.
“Is this a sixty-eight?” I ask, and his eyes dart over to mine in questioning surprise, to which I respond, “My dad used to take me to a lot of car shows when I was younger. It was kind of our thing.”
“Sixty-nine, actually.”
“Close enough.”
The engine rumbles, and I find myself sneaking glances his way, wishing for traffic to slow us down because I’m not quite ready to return to school yet. The way the muscles in his forearm constrict with every gear he shifts is mesmerizing. The littlest movement causes the biggest chemical reaction within me.
“You two still go?”
“Ever since my parents divorced, he’s sort of been doing his own thing.”
“How long ago did they divorce?”
“When I was thirteen. So, it’s been around four years,” I tell him without going into any detail of how my dad managed to almost entirely exclude me from the new life he’s created so effortlessly. “What about your parents? They still together?”
He turns into the student lot, completely dodging my question when he parks the car, saying, “We need to hurry before we’re late.”
I curse the tension that returns, but it doesn’t do anything to curb the curiosity I have about him. Why the heck is this guy so evasive when I attempt to dig the same way he does with me?
“Thanks for giving me a ride.”
The both of us step out of the car, and he gives me a halfhearted “See ya later,” before we head in different directions once inside the school.
I make it through my next two classes before sixth period comes around, all the while trying not to dissect Kason when I know nothing about him. He’s already sitting at his desk with his notebook open when I walk in.
“Hey.” My voice comes out meek when I take my seat in front of him, and he responds with an equally meek, “Hey,” of his own.
I don’t attempt to say anything else, and it isn’t even a solid minute later when our teacher takes to the front of the class, offering me only a shred of distraction from the guy who sits behind me. Then, like yesterday, when the bell rings, he rushes out of the class and leaves me behind to pack up my bag and wonder what his deal is.
When I arrive home from school, my mother’s car is already parked in the circular drive.
“Mom,” I call out as I walk through the front door.
“In the kitchen, dear.”
“What are you doing home so early?”
When I walk in, she turns away from whatever she’s cooking and gives me a tight hug. “I had to go get new tags for the cars and decided to come home instead of going back to the office.”
I take a seat at the bar as she stirs whatever jarred sauce she’s heating up. If there’s one thing my mom is not, it’s a cook.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come home last night until after you were already asleep.”
“It’s okay.”
“Tell me how your first day went.”
I watch my mother, who shares the same bright blonde hair as I do, tend to her cooking in her high heels and pencil skirt, and smile. “I’m happy you’re home.”
Looking at me from over her shoulder, she shoots me a wink. “Dish, girl. I want to hear all about it.”
“You act like my life is soap opera worthy.”
“Honey, you’re seventeen. Everything should be soap opera worthy.”
I shake my head and proceed to tell her about the past two days. I talk about Micah and yesterday’s afternoon trip to the beach and today’s lunch out at the bay. I then go on and mention Kason and my limited interactions with him. My mother and I have always had a close relationship, despite the fact that her job demands she spend more time in the office than at home with me.
“I get the feeling that he finds me annoying and only talks to me out of politeness. I mean, Micah practically gave him no choice but to drive me back to school after lunch.”
“My two cents?”
“Please.”
“Guys don’t behave out of politeness, especially teenage boys.”
“He’s just hot and cold,” I tell her and then retract my word choice. “Not hot. More like warm.”
She fills two plates with store-bought tortellini, spoons vodka sauce over the top, and places them on the bar top before taking her seat next to me.
“So, I take it this Kason is good-looking.”
“Extremely,” I gush, stabbing a tortellini before taking a bite.
“It’s day two, Ady. Give him a chance to warm up to you.”
“Oh, that’s another thing. He only calls me Adaline when he knows I prefer to be called Ady. It should annoy me, but . . .”
“But he’s hot, so you like it?”
“You’re crazy,” I accuse jokingly.
“And you’re not denying it,” she shoots back.
I shake my head at her.
“I wanted to talk to you about work. The firm has wasted no time handing me over my first case. It’s a pretty intense one that’s going to require a lot of long hours in prep for trial,” she explains. “I know we just moved here, but—”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I understand.” And I do. My mother is a criminal defense attorney and has an impressive record of wins under her belt. That doesn’t come to those who don’t put in the hard work and time. At this point, I’m used to taking care of myself.
She sets her fork down, and with an endearing expression, she tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
“All the time,” I respond. “Seriously, though, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re my favorite.” She takes a bite of pasta. “I was thinking that since we’re having an early dinner we could go to the beach and do some exploring. What do you think?”
Most seventeen-year-olds probably wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with their mother, but not me. And when she offers her time, I take it, knowing how precious it is to the both of us.
“I’d love that. Just ditch the heels.”