Then

Carys ~ 15 years old

“EVAN?” I SHOUT, CLOSING the door behind me.

It’s unusually quiet for this time of evening. Ry and Evan are usually eating with the TV or music jacked. It’s way too silent for that, although I can smell food.

Ma’s working and I’m not sure what Ry’s up to, but Evan made it crystal clear that I was to be back by seven. I call his name again; still no response.

Entering the living room, I see there’s a patchwork quilt spread across the floor with candles lit around the room. On the blanket are two Coke cans, a bowl of chocolate candies, another with chips, and two Styrofoam cups of noodle soup.

Evan, my boyfriend since that unforgettable night over a year ago, has a sweet smile on his face. Every time I see him, my stomach flutters with the excitement and complete disbelief that he’s mine.

“Sweetness.” My name is soft and smooth on his tongue.

“What’s going on?”

He comes to me and pulls us onto the blanket, both of us sitting cross-legged, facing each other. He takes both my hands, and tingles spread from my hands to low in my belly. It’s not nerves but anticipation that heats my insides.

“We’re having a picnic.”

This isn’t new. We’ve had them countless times over the years, but what’s different is that he’s done this on his own. We usually do it together.

As a couple, our picnics are more than something fun to do. It’s about being alone — so much so that the planning is so intense that sometimes it feels like we are planning an escape from prison.

We triple-check to make sure neither Ma nor Ry will show up, every detail planned to the second. A giggle escapes my mouth at the thought and Evan quirks his brow.

“What’s funny?”

“Just thinking about all the times we tried to pull off a picnic and how much planning went into it. How did you do this? I’m assuming Ry’s not coming home any time soon, is he?”

A wide, naughty grin creeps across his lips as he lightly kisses the tip of my nose before giving me a long, deep kiss.

“You’re correct. We’ve got this place to ourselves for the next five hours.”

“Wow! How are we going to fill the time?” My tone playfully suggests a dilemma.

“Come here.” He grabs me around the waist and plants me in his lap, with my back nestled into the crook of his arm. His mouth latches onto my neck as his tongue and teeth skate along my skin, sending ripples of pleasure throughout me.

While we give in to the rare moment alone, the chance to freely explore and enjoy each other, I can’t shake the persistent niggle in the back of my mind. This picnic is a complete surprise, and while I love it, a restlessness creeps up my spine that I can’t make sense of. Yet, I’m with Evan and we’re alone—it doesn’t get much better than this.

After chatting for a bit, we finish our soups, a quick meal that we both enjoy, and then he pulls me to his side, with his back against the couch.

The unease, like a constant low drum increasing its tempo and hum, becomes deafening, nearly drowning the sudden thundering of my heartbeat. The ominous feeling consumes me. Something is coming.

“Sweetness, I love you,” Evan says.

“I love you, too.” I sit up and turn to face him.

He tries to pull me to him, but I need to see his face. I need to read not only his words, but also his eyes, his body.

“Say it,” I gently command.

Swallowing hard, he takes my hand, gently squeezing until I look at him, then he begins. “I know what I’m going to do this year.”

A few months ago, he announced that he wasn’t going to college. He’d applied to some and had been accepted. At first, he chose NYU, like Ry. While Tripp was heading upstate to Cornell, Evan would stay at home with Ry and be here for both me and Ma.

“What did you decide?”

“I’m joining the Army.”

I gasp, my insides seize, and my head swims with this shocking news. I’m glad that I’m seated. Not in a million years did I see that coming.

Unshed tears blur my vision without releasing; I’m on the cusp of crying. Though it’s agonizing, I force a thin smile for his sake, trying to hide my disappointment, but his crestfallen face tells me I’ve done a poor job.

I feel like he is in pain. I remain silent, bombarded with many thoughts firing through my mind and frustrated by my inability to form one coherent response.

“Why the Army?” I finally manage to say.

“After the death of my parents, I felt lost and out of control on the inside. There’s a part of me that still feels like I’m missing something, my purpose or direction, and I think the Army can give that to me.”

He’s told me this all before. While my brother and Tripp have their sights set on the FBI, Evan doesn’t feel the same pull.

I’m having a really difficult time because I know deep down inside that this isn’t about me, yet I can’t help but feel like I’m not enough. Even with him having me, he’s lost and missing something. I’m not the answer for him, like he is for me.

“I’m not enough.” I finally have the nerve to say what I think, even though it’s the scariest thing possible when it comes to Evan and me.

“Fuck, no!” Evan pulls me to him. “You are fucking everything to me. I swear to you, Sweetness, this has nothing to do with you, and also everything to do with you.”

“That makes no sense.” I recoil at the disgusting whine in my voice.

“You’re my future. For me to have peace, for our lives to be happy and full, I need to stop searching and work out my demons. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and the military spoke to me. It’s my chance to give back to my country, to gain structure and focus. I need this so I can give you the life and the love you deserve.”

“But you do already!” I bury my face into his chest.

Resting his head on the top of mine, he holds me as I try to stop my crying from turning into full-on sobs.

“I know I can give you more. What you deserve is that I settle the restlessness. I’ve wanted justice for my parents’ deaths for most of my life and the reality is, I’ll never find it. I get that on an intellectual level, but on the physical and emotional, it’s not so easy. I need to work through it, and I think being in the Army will do that for me.”

§

Evan ~ 18 years old

EVERYONE’S HERE AS I walk into the apartment. Aunt Lucy, Griff and Tripp’s mother, hugs me tight. Her blue eyes hold nothing but love and understanding, and I figure Ma must have told her my plans.

Uncle Sean, her husband, isn’t here. He’s a good man, but he works long hours and is rarely at family gatherings, even more so now that my father and Uncle Adam are no longer around.

As is typical for our family dinners, the table is loaded with a feast, as Sweetness enters with another dish. She’s beautiful, with her cheeks flushed and her hair hanging in tousled waves down her back. She’s wearing a red shirtdress that falls to just above her knees, and I have to stop myself from ogling her legs.

We share a brief private moment with subtle smiles and a wink from me before she sits across the table from me. With her finally mine, this past year has been the best of my life, and that’s what makes this so hard. Our conversation last night was difficult, and even though we spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms, she’s been quiet.

I only hope she understands that it’s temporary. She’s still got a couple years of high school, and I’m doing what I need to do for me and for our future.

Griff sits down beside her, running his hands through his shaggy blond hair. “Dude, you’ve got to get a haircut,” I joke.

I’d never wear my hair like that. With my thick waves, the longer it gets, the unrulier it is. I’d look like a girl or a wild animal, but it works for Griff. The girls dig it and flock to him.

“Never.” He grabs his locks like he fears I’ll take scissors to them. “You’re just jealous because you could never pull this off.”

“Nah, I leave the pretty boy looks to you.” I chuckle.

“I love the long locks,” Carys says, running her fingers through Griff’s hair. “You look hot.”

It’s harmless flirting, but I wish I were the one she was flirting with. She glances at me and recognizes my struggle, quickly removing her hand with a sweet smile for me.

During dinner, I enjoy the banter and laughter, knowing it’ll be a while before I’m here again. I’m going to miss it, miss them.

Knowing I have something to say, Ry takes matters into his own hands as usual.

“So, Van, when are you going to share your news?”

I shake my head in disappointment; I wanted to say this on my terms. He instantly grasps his fuck-up and shoots me an apologetic gaze. Clearing my throat, I inhale deeply, preparing to sour the mood for some.

“Well, as you know, I’ve decided not to go to college this year.” I pause and take a sip of water. They know that part, but most don’t know the why. “Because I’m joining the Army.”

Sounds of surprise erupt around the table with both Ry and Tripp talking over one another. My gaze locks with Carys’s. She knew I was doing this tonight, but she’s not looking at me. Her eyes are cast into her lap, so unlike the fierce girl she is.

“What the fuck, Van?” Ry and Tripp say in unison, both sets of eyes drilling into me with a barrage of unasked questions.

“Boys, language!” Ma scolds.

“Patrick, I understand you’re upset, but no profanity,” Aunt Lucy adds.

“Sorry,” Ry says. “What about the FBI?”

“It’s not what I want, at least not right now.” I haven’t given up the possibility of joining the Bureau, but it’s not my dream. It’s his, theirs. “I want to serve my country. I want purpose, to know I’m doing good.” Even though it’s true, my response feels practiced. It’s one thing to feel it, and another to try to explain it.

After the death of my parents, I spun out of control internally. To everyone else, I was what they expected of me: the high achiever, the athlete, the dutiful child. On the inside, I was raging. Even with the love and grounding of Ma, Ry, and Carys, a part of me was lost.

I always felt like a part of their family—how could I not? I’d known them all my life and our shared loss only made that bond stronger, but they couldn’t help me with the part that felt robbed of my parents, and I didn’t know how to reconcile that.

How could I come to terms with knowing I’d never get my mom’s loving words again or her killer hug when I needed it the most? Or that I’d never finish learning how to build an engine with my dad? Or ask him how the hell I let the girl of my dreams live her life, while making her understand she had my heart and one day, I’d come to collect? That I wanted forever with her?

I kept it bottled and managed the best I could. The Wolfes helped immeasurably, but I also needed structure and discipline, a way to work out and channel my anger and resentment in a positive way.

“Excuse me.” Carys clears a few things from the table.

“Let me help.” I jump from my seat.

“No.” Her voice is sharp, her tears now evident. Her pain stings, although it’s understandable. I’ve had time to digest this and even with that, it’s still difficult, whereas for her, it’s still new, and she’s reeling.

“I’ll help.” Griff nods, reassuring me that he’ll make sure she’s okay.

While I hate this, not going to her, she needs space. My emotions run the gamut from unease to relief to have gotten this off my chest.

“I know this is a surprise, but this is something I want to do.”

“Dude, that’s cool,” Tripp says. “We’ll miss you. You better keep in touch.”

“I will.” My eyes never waver from Ry, willing him to let me know he’s okay with this.

“What about your beaut?” he asks, a glint in his blue eyes.

“What about her?” I know where he’s going with this, and it still surprises me how we think the same way sometimes.

“What?” Tripp asks, clueless.

“Van got a bike today,” he responds before turning his attention back to me. “What are you going to do with her?”

On my eighteenth birthday, not too long ago, Ma gave me some of my inheritance. My parents came from nothing, yet with their deaths, there was a fair amount to provide for my future, with the sale of my family home and the insurance money.

“Well, I was going to ask you to take care of her for me.”

“Fuckin’ A!”

“Rylan Adam Wolfe, one more outburst with that language and I’ll wash your mouth out with soap!” Ma exclaims.

The table erupts in laughter as Ry, giddy with the prospect of being the keeper of my bike, demands Tripp come see it. Griff enters as we’re leaving and abandons his offer to help in the kitchen. Both mothers encourage us to go, promising to help Carys clean up.

Torn between staying to help, talking to Carys, and showing off my new bike, I waver. Ry senses my apprehension and sidles up beside me, clamping his hand firmly on my shoulder.

“We won’t be long. Give her some space and talk to her after.” His voice is low, so only I can hear. “She’ll come around. We’re going to fucking miss you, asshole, but we want you to be happy. If this is what you want, then we want it for you.”