CHAPTER TWELVE
“In sixth grade, phones weren’t allowed in class.” Not that I had even owned one. “So everybody went old school and passed paper notes. To stop that from being a distraction, our teacher, Ms. Ogata, put up a mail board on one wall. During breaks or lunch, anyone could thumbtack a note for someone else on the wall.”
Lexi left me daily notes about her love for Chase Covington, but that wasn’t pertinent to the story.
“One day I walked up and there was a note for me with handwriting I didn’t recognize. From someone who said they had a crush on me but were too shy to say so. It went on for weeks. I tried to catch whoever was doing it, but the board was always crowded so I never got to see who it was.”
Zia blinked drowsily in my arms and rolled over. I shifted as she repositioned herself and went back to sleep.
“In the notes, he said all the things he loved about me. How beautiful I was, how smart and nice, and at first I couldn’t believe it. I thought it was a joke, but after a while it felt real, and I looked forward every day to a new note. I remember watching the boys in my class, trying to guess who it was. To see if anyone would sneak glances at me or give me a secretive smile. Something that would indicate who was responsible. It didn’t happen.”
As I got to the hard part of the story, I had to swallow down the lump in my throat. “The notes indicated that he would tell me his name on the last day of school, that he still felt too shy. I actually started a countdown, excited that somebody thought I was pretty enough and special enough to pay this kind of attention to. But on the last day of school, as I took my letter off the wall, that all changed. It told me how stupid I was. That all my classmates had spent the entire year laughing at me. Who would ever want somebody as ugly and stupid as me? He said he wasn’t even human but a dog who had learned how to write because only a dog could ever be attracted to me.”
I didn’t start sobbing, which I counted as a victory. I did squeeze my sister a little too tightly, and she quietly protested until I eased up. “I cried for three days. Not just because everyone made fun of me but because I had let myself hope and believe. And my trust had been shattered. It made me question everyone’s motives ever since. I never did find out who did it. And I’ve never told anyone this story. Not even my best friend.”
Because if I had, Lexi would have pitied me, and then she would have punched people until someone confessed and she forced them to apologize. I had just wanted everything to go away. I didn’t want to keep dealing with it and dragging it out.
But there was power in confessing. I experienced relief when I put down the burden of this secret and Chase picked up part of it so it no longer sat solely on my shoulders.
“I don’t know if there’s a right thing to say here, but I understand how the things that happen to us as kids can affect us our whole lives. I’m really sorry that happened to you. But whoever did that was an idiot. And completely wrong. And if you knew who it was, I would probably jump in that uncool minivan, find him, and kick his a—” He glanced at the sleeping girls. “Kick his butt.”
I knew I was supposed to be opposed to violence, but the thought that he wanted to avenge my honor thrilled me in a way I didn’t quite understand.
“That is a pretty uncool car,” I agreed. “Even my Honda is better.”
“So what you’re saying is that you’re cooler than me?”
I shrugged, which was not easy with Zia’s weight pulling my arms down. “I didn’t say it.”
That wolfish, predatory grin was back. The one that sent fizzy bubbles of desire rocketing through my bloodstream. “If you’re cooler than me, does that mean I’m hotter than you?”
Um, most definitely.
We were interrupted by Zane and Zander, who had returned because they couldn’t agree on whose turn it was next. Their arguing woke up the girls, and everybody was grouchy and annoyed.
Everybody but me. This was the lightest I had felt in a long time.
As I tried to sort out my brothers’ disagreement fairly, Zelda asked, “Where are the cookies?”
“Cookies?” Chase’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement. “Did you finally make me cookies?”
What was his deal? “I made some this morning, yes.”
I started looking through bags, and after a minute, Chase helped me. But we couldn’t find them anywhere.
“I remember wrapping them up and putting them on the kitchen table. I must have forgotten them.”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe you made cookies and I don’t even get to have any. I feel so cheated.”
“If you want them that badly, I can come over and make you some.” He was really hung up on this.
“Tomorrow? My place?”
“Sure.”
“But I wanted dessert, Zo,” Zelda complained, clutching her sandy Mr. Wriggles closer. He probably had another visit to the washing machine in his near future.
“We could go to the ice cream shop on the boardwalk,” Zander suggested, and that made even Zia throw off her tiredness.
She crawled off my lap and stood in front of me, her big gray eyes pleading and her hands clasped together. “I want isacheme, Zo-Zo. Please.”
“I don’t know, you guys. It’s getting late, and it’s almost dinnertime. Mom will kill me for getting you all hopped up on sugar this late.”
“C’mon, Zo,” Chase said, mimicking Zia’s expression. “It won’t hurt just this once. Let’s get ice cream.”
“Your puppy-dog charm is not going to work,” I told him. Even though it totally was.
“Oh, a compliment. You just called me charming.”
“Did not. And if you weren’t listening, I compared you to a manipulative puppy.” One using his cuteness to get what he wants.
“All I heard was charming.” He stood up, offering me his hand. “And if you keep saying no, we might have a mutiny on our hands.”
“Okay, fine. We can have ice cream.”
Amid their cheers, and Zelda making up a song about how much she loved ice cream, I made everyone put on their flip-flops. I took Chase’s hand, and it was just like I remembered. Warm, strong, and completely electric. I quickly let go. I grabbed my sunglasses, grateful to hide behind them. I slipped into my clothes and shoes. Chase put on his shirt, a ball cap, and sunglasses, and I wondered if he was covertly watching me the same way I was watching him.
As we headed for the boardwalk, Zelda asked, “Can I get chocolate ice cream?”
Both Chase and I exclaimed, “No!” at the same time, which cracked us up. The kids joined in, even though I don’t think they understood why we were laughing.
Zia grabbed my hand and demanded, “Hold hands, Cheese.” She wanted us to swing her as we walked. We counted to three and swung her high in the air, and she laughed hysterically each time.
“It must be nice to be part of a big family.”
“It is,” I agreed. “Although sometimes I feel like a second mother because of the age gap. I mean, if I got married and had kids in the next few years, Zia would be an aunt at a really young age. That part of it is weird. But I adore them.”
Chase stayed quiet for longer than was normal. “Is that something you think about? Getting married?” Given his tone, it was like he was asking, “Is that something you think about? Committing multiple murders and becoming a serial killer?” Such a stereotypical male reaction to discussing marriage.
“Not really.” I mean, I had been thinking about it a lot lately, given my current situation with People Magazine’s three-time winner of “Sexiest Man Alive,” but it wasn’t something I had seriously considered. I hadn’t even graduated yet.
When we got to the ice cream parlor, Chase opened the door for everyone, ushering the kids inside, where their voices echoed loudly. I put my sunglasses on top of my head; Chase left his on. The children gathered around the display case, deciding on flavors. Zelda had to be reminded more than once that chocolate was not an option.
They finally made their decisions. Zane opted for the Incredible Hulk flavor—mint ice cream with chocolate chips. I decided to get the same.
“No Captain Sparta flavor?” Chase murmured. “I think I should be offended.”
I would totally eat that up. But instead of saying so, I just smiled. I noticed he was hanging back, standing behind me. As if he didn’t want anyone in the parlor to know who he was. It seemed to be working, as the girl at the cash register was busy texting on her phone and ignoring us. I asked Chase what he wanted, and he said butter pecan.
“Ha. I knew your icky movie-star tastes would come out eventually. Your picnic didn’t fool me.”
“What’s wrong with butter pecan?”
“Um, everything? Such a waste of good ice cream.” I grabbed my purse and moved to the register to place our order. Chase put his hand on my wrist, preventing me from getting my wallet. He handed me some cash.
“It’s on me. I’m the one who asked to spend the day with you guys, remember?”
I kept forgetting this was kind of a date. I knew the girls—er, women—in my women’s studies class would want me to protest. Maybe even get angry and tell him I didn’t need him or the patriarchy paying for me. But I gratefully accepted his kind gesture. “I’ll get it next time.”
It wasn’t until later that I thought about how presumptuous that must have sounded. Like we were definitely going on another date when he hadn’t indicated he wanted to. I gave him his change after the cashier rang us up. Once she had scooped our cones, Chase suggested we sit on the outdoor patio that overlooked the boardwalk and beach.
We got everybody situated at the table, and I wrapped the cones for the two youngest kids in enough napkins to soak up an oil spill. Chase seemed completely entertained by how much the kids loved their ice cream.
“Everybody tell Chase thank you!”
They all said thanks, including Zia, who said, “Fank you, Cheese” between delicate bites of pink bubblegum ice cream.
“I think this is a day they’ll always remember,” I told him. I knew it was one I would never forget.
“What’s your favorite childhood memory?” he asked.
“Not paying bills,” I immediately responded, which got the laugh I’d been looking for. “What about you?”
“I always paid the bills. Even when I was a kid. Sometimes I wish I’d had more of a childhood.”
There was something so inherently sad about his statement that it made my heart ache. And I could relate. “I know it’s not the same, but I didn’t have much of a childhood, either. I was expected to work hard all the time.”
Zander had already finished his ice cream and let out a loud sigh of boredom as he leaned his head back.
“He seems a little lost without his tablet,” Chase said softly to me.
“Right? Like someday I expect to wake up and find that it’s become permanently attached to his hand. I try to get him to go out and do real-life stuff like this. It tends to backfire. Like one night I was feeling inspired, so I told them no devices, no TV. That we were going to play board games.”
“How did that go?”
“Let me put it this way—now I understand why all those parents in the 1960s were alcoholics.”
“Hey!” Zane poked Chase in the side. “What kind of shorts do clouds wear?”
Chase pondered the question seriously. “I don’t know. What kind of shorts do clouds wear?”
“Thunderwear!” Zane cracked himself up.
“I think Thor wears that, too,” Chase added, making Zane laugh harder.
“Hey, do you guys want to play in the sand while we wait for the girls?” Before I had finished my sentence, my brothers fled the table.
Zelda had stopped eating her Neapolitan ice cream a while ago, and now it was running in pink, brown, and white rivers down her hand.
“Why aren’t you eating your ice cream?” Chase asked as he reached for more napkins before everything dripped on her leg. “Did you lose your sweet tooth?”
“My sweet tooth?” Zelda asked in alarm. “Which tooth is that? Did the Tooth Fairy take it? I want it back!”
I tried to explain idioms as she grew increasingly frantic, so I settled for reminding her that she hadn’t lost any teeth yet. I got her cleaned up and sent her off to play with the boys.
As we watched them play, some joggers ran past us on the boardwalk. “I used to love running on the beach. I miss it.”
Again, I felt a pang of sadness for him that so many things in his life were abnormal.
“What about you? Do you ever come down here and run?”
I tried not to laugh. “Not unless I have to chase somebody down.”
“You don’t like running?”
“My stepdad used to say running was for criminals and masochists. Lexi used to be really into it, but it was never my thing.”
He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. It made his shirt lift up slightly, and I forced myself to look at his face. “So basically, if you ever have to run for your life, things aren’t going to end well for you.”
“Basically.”
“What kind of exercise do you like?”
How did you tell somebody whose life revolved around being in the best shape possible that your exercise routine consisted of tossing and turning at night? “Climbing?” I was talking about the three flights of stairs at my apartment but left that part off.
“What gym do you go to?”
“I think about going to the gym, but the guy who works the counter at Wendy’s is named Jim, so I figure that’s close enough.”
It felt like he was looking at me, but I couldn’t tell with the sunglasses. “You’re lucky you have such a fantastic metabolism.”
My cheeks burned at his implication, and I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see. It was true. I had grown up eating traditional comfort foods laden with butter and cream. I probably should be the size of a baby hippo, given my diet.
“I guess we can’t have everything in common. That would be boring.” I couldn’t tell from his tone whether he was disappointed by my revelations. Was it a bad thing? A divisive wedge that would come between us, since I would rather have my fingernails ripped out one a time than go running with him in some canyon?
“We should probably go,” I said. “It’s getting late.” The sun was setting, and the winds had picked up. I was glad I had packed hoodies for everyone.
I hadn’t, however, packed anything for me. I started shivering as we walked back to our blanket. We had left everything on the beach despite Chase’s conviction that we shouldn’t. I told him that at a different beach I would have packed it all up, but in Marabella I always felt safe and didn’t worry about stuff getting stolen. Sure enough, we found everything just as we had left it.
Chase rummaged around inside his bag and pulled out something dark blue and fuzzy. “Here. You can use my sweater.”
I was too cold to protest, and we still needed to get the children and all their equipment in the car. I put it on, and it was the softest material I had ever felt. Like it had been collected from the bellies of baby Angora bunnies raised on organic carrots who had slept on cotton balls.
And it smelled like him. I wondered how weird it would be if I took it home and draped it over my pillow so I could be surrounded by his delicious scent all night.
Next thing I knew, we were home, taking everything out of the minivan. I told the weary kids to go inside, instructing the boys to take showers and the girls to wait for me so I could give them a bath.
Chase waited for me out front, but I needed him to leave. Not only so I could take care of my siblings, but also because even though my mother wouldn’t be home for at least two hours, sometimes they sent her home early on Saturday shifts, and I couldn’t run the risk of her seeing Chase Covington on our porch.
He had removed his glasses and hat, and he had that intense, hungry look in his eyes. I folded my arms, loving the feel of his sweater against my skin.
I would probably like the feel of him even more.
“So thank you for today,” I said, finally finding my voice. “This was amazing.”
“You’re welcome. I really enjoyed it.” For real? Was he just being polite? Was it acting? “And thank you.”
“For what?”
I suddenly flashed to the part in his most recent rom-com where he thanked his love interest after a date. When she’d asked why, he said, “For the kiss.” Only he’d never kissed her.
And when she’d started to say as much, he’d laid a kiss on her so hot that I had fanned my face the first time I saw it.
I’d heard people talking about feeling butterflies, but I hadn’t understood that statement until right this second. Because I felt this flapping, fluttering sensation, not only in my stomach but also everywhere else. Like every internal cell had turned into a butterfly, fluttery with excitement and anticipation. The atmosphere between us felt thick, charged.
Only this wasn’t a movie, and he didn’t try to kiss me. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and his fingers lingered on the side of my head for a moment, leaving a burning imprint. “Thank you for having no ulterior motive for hanging out with me. For being the first person I’ve ever met who didn’t want something from me. See you tomorrow.”
I echoed, “See you tomorrow,” as he walked off the porch to his rental. I stood there, frozen, as he drove away. I didn’t even wave.
Because the butterflies had been replaced by gross, slimy guilt worms that wriggled around inside me. I thought of Stephanie and how I had intended to ask Chase to help with the benefit.
How that would make me just another person who wanted something from him.
I hadn’t told anyone. There was no way he could find out, right?
As long as I kept my mouth shut, everything should be fine.