Then

Carys ~ 11 years old

“EWW, YOU’RE DISGUSTING!” LAUREN shrieks and I lunge at her as she runs past me, rubbing my wet, sticky sweat on her arm.

Laughter bubbles within me at her dramatic antics. Lauren Donovan’s my best friend and favorite person to torment. She’s easy to ruffle.

We’ve been friends since the first day of kindergarten, when we were both decked out in pink tutus. From that point on, we’ve been inseparable, though we couldn’t be more different. I’m a tomboy at heart, something Lauren definitely is not.

She’s the cheerleader type, her dream for high school. Me, I’ll most probably do both, soccer and cheerleading. Not one for labels, I walk the line between the genders. From a young age, Pops instilled in me that there are no limits, that I can do whatever I want.

He’d say, “Lemon drop, life’s too short to let other people tell you who you should be and what you should do.”

Pops… I miss him. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him, recall his sage advice, or mentally hug him. Four years. It’s been four years since his death. Some days, it feels like yesterday, and others, like four million years ago.

I recall asking Evan once whether or not the dead could see us. I’m still not sure, but there are moments when I believe, without a doubt, Pops is with me. I may be alone or in the company of others, but regardless, I’ll feel stronger, more loved, or comforted without any explanation for it. I like to think it’s him watching over me or holding my hand.

I’ve just finished soccer practice and I’m filthy. Lauren usually sticks around after school to do her homework while I practice. If I have a game, she tags along, supposedly to cheer me on, but truthfully, it’s to socialize and practice her ‘game.’

We’re pushing twelve and have recently discovered boys—or I should say, we’ve discovered boys can be useful for more than ignoring, scorning, or annoying. With this knowledge comes the new, uncharted territory of flirting.

“Was that Jon Clausen talking to you outside the locker room?” asks Lauren.

“Yeah.”

“What did he want?”

“He asked if I was going to Sara’s party.” I’m deliberately monotone, attempting to counter her enthusiasm.

“And what did you say?”

“That I didn’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? You know he likes you, right?” Her indignation is way over the top, as usual.

“L, not this again, okay?”

“I don’t know why you don’t just go out with him! He likes you and he’s cute! Or go out with Ben, he likes you, too!”

“Maybe because I don’t want a boyfriend.”

I don’t respond well to pressure, and this is no different. Boys and going out are no big deal, but the way Lauren goes on and on makes me want to run for the hills.

“Yeah, or maybe because there’s only one person you do want to go out with?” With her goofy grin and exaggerated waggle of her eyebrows, an unattractive snort escapes my lips at her absurdity.

Lauren’s cute. She’s hates the word, but it describes her to a T. Her thick blonde hair falls to her shoulders and her bangs are just a titch too long, with the ends hanging in her green eyes, which are always wide and smiling. All. The. Time.

“Yeah, maybe that, too.” I’m hoping with my honesty, she’ll drop it.

“C, you’re almost twelve, not thirty-two!”

“I know how old I am, thank you very much.”

“It’s okay to hang out with guys. Evan does with girls.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“And he’s not exactly waiting for you,” she says. Thank you for stating the obvious. She knows how to push my buttons and does it with minimum effort but gets maximum effect.

“Shut up, L! I’ve had enough of this.”

“Hey, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. Look, you guys are probably meant to be together, but you’re young and there are lots of guys out there. Don’t wait around for Evan Hart to notice you. It’s just like me and Ry.”

My eyeroll is a kneejerk reaction to the topic of my brother and her we’re meant to be together speech. I’d prefer to poke my eyes out with toothpicks rather than hear it one more time.

“You know I’m meant to be with your brother, but you don’t see me waiting around for him, do you? I’m having fun with Tyler, so when our time is right, I’ll be ready for Ry.”

I can’t help but snicker. Lauren is delusional if she thinks they’ll get married and live happily ever after. No matter how many times I tell her it’s not going to happen, she refuses to believe it. Ry sees Lauren, and will only ever see her, as his little sister’s best friend, nothing more.

“Well, I still think you should go out with Jon.”

“Argh, stop this.”

Entering through the back of The Waters, the air conditioning is heaven after the scorching summer heat. My sweat is drying, making my skin tight and itchy. Gross. I whip off my soccer jersey and my damp black tank top clings to my slick skin. I use my jersey to wipe the back of my neck and down the front of my tank, grazing my chest.

“Who asked you out?” Evan’s voice is low, on edge as he eyes me from head to toe, lingering on my hand still rubbing my damp chest. Goosebumps break out across my body and my belly flutters.

“Jon did.” Lauren continues with her annoying assault. “Tell me everything!”

“Yeah, tell us everything,” Evan mocks, his eyes never leaving mine. Kill me now.

“There’s nothing to tell,” I say coolly.

“Come on!” Lauren says, turning to Evan. “This guy really likes her and she’s playing hard to get.”

I shoot her my best death glare in hopes of shutting her up. Completely ignoring me, she claps her hands together. Evan arches a dark eyebrow and folds his arms over his hard chest. He’s athletically fit for his barely fifteen years of age.

No surprise, he’s growing more and more into a man, less of a boy each day. Even knowing this, I still do a double-take every time I lay eyes on him. His tall, lean frame is filling out with defined muscles and taut lines.

Unfortunately, I’m not the only one to notice. In fact, too many girls do. With his dark wavy hair, model features, and bad-boy vibe, far too many girls stroke his bulging biceps.

“Go out with him—or don’t you like him?” Ry chimes in.

I’m surprised I didn’t notice him. He’s been sitting on the counter the whole time. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Whenever Evan is near, I’m oblivious to everything else. This has to stop.

Evan and I are close, but things have shifted, are changing between us. My feelings are morphing into more, something deeper. We still have our friendship and his loyalty to me is unrivaled, but like an iceberg, beneath the placid blue surface, there’s this gigantic mass of formidable emotions lying in wait.

As I struggle to make sense of it all, I have no clue where he stands. Since he’s hit his teens, he doesn’t look at me the same way anymore. His gazes are more intense, yet indiscernible.

We used to be in sync, and words weren’t necessary. Now, we’re hardly ever on the same page. Some days, we’re worlds apart.

When his parents died, he became a ward of the state, while Ma legally petitioned to be his guardian. Fortunately, after less than two months, he came to live with us permanently. We got lucky. Ma came across his parents’ will, which named my parents guardians for their only son, Evan. He was back in our lives sooner rather than later. It was still longer than I would have wanted, but it could have been worse.

“I never said he asked me out.”

“Oh, my God, yes he did. He asked you out!” Lauren shrieks.

“L, can you stop? You’re not helping.”

She giggles, giddy like a child overdosing on sugar. She is going to be a disaster in high school. I have my work cut out for me. Evan’s heated stare and clenched jaw cause me to fidget. I hate how easily he makes me squirm. I look away, and Ry’s blue eyes nab mine. He smirks.

“Give the guy a break. Either cut him loose or say yes,” Ry says.

“Don’t you think you’re too young to be into boys?” Evan says slowly, his eyes locked with mine.

He’s challenging me. He’s infuriating. Who does he think he is to have a say? I’m almost twelve, and besides, he’s going out with Stacie Holmes. The thought of her is a rock sinking to the pit of my stomach.

My heart seized at the sight of them holding hands last week. I knew he was seeing girls, I just wish I didn’t have to witness it. Besides wishing they weren’t together, I also wish I could erase the image from my mind.

“You know, L, I’m going to say yes to Jon. I’d love to go to Sara’s party with him.” My eyes never waver from Evan’s as I ignore his comment and make my own statement. His darken by the second.

“Hey, sis, we need to talk,” Ry starts in with his imitation of a father.

“Ry.” I break our staring contest, swinging my gaze to my brother. “I don’t need you to big brother me all the time—I don’t need either of you.” I cut back to Evan. “If I need your help, I’ll ask. Otherwise, back off.”

Without another word, I go into our living quarters, with Lauren on my heels. After Pops died, we sold our home and moved into the three-bedroom apartment above the bar.

“I’m going to shower,” I say to Lauren.

“I’m going to call Tyler and make plans for the four of us.”

“Okay,” I say halfheartedly, shutting the bathroom door.

Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I try to see what it is that Jon, Ben, and other boys see in me. I’m not hung up on looks, but still I’m human. I’m pretty, although I’m not feeling it right now, and it has everything to do with the dark-haired boy downstairs.

I undo my bun and my long hair falls in messy tresses down my back, not too far from my typical wild, loose waves. Thanks to my Irish heritage, my pale skin is now cherry red from practice and the heat.

My aquamarine eyes shine, more blue than green today, changing color with my mood. My only small facial feature is my nose; everything else is too big, too wide. My square jaw is most prominent, and almost as noticeable are my big heart-shaped lips. Each trait isn’t necessarily attractive by itself, but together, they work. I’ve been told by many, including strangers, that my eyes and smile are magnetic. I got lucky.

Slipping out of my clothes, I further examine my body in the mirror. My breasts are developing, although barely a handful. Even so, boys notice appreciatively. My waist and flat stomach flare out into decent curvy hips, making my waist appear smaller than it is.

My legs are muscular, but not too big, and they’re long. I’m almost five feet seven inches and I may not be done growing. It’s sometimes awkward how I tower over most of the boys my age.

Despite what Evan may or may not see, my body is changing and so are my feelings for him. I’m growing into a woman. My heart has always recognized Evan as its other half.

It sounds silly, but he’s always gotten me in a way no one else has. We’ve never needed words to understand each other. I fear now, as we grow older, we’ll grow apart, and that connection will change, fade, or die. I can’t imagine a world where I don’t have Evan.

§

Evan ~ 15 years old

“MOVE THOSE TABLES OVER there,” Ma says before going back into the kitchen.

The bar is closed for a private party this evening and we’re rearranging the tables.

“How do you feel about Carys seeing guys?”

Ma’s not in earshot, but I keep my voice low as I wait for Ry’s response.

“Not wild about it. She’s almost twelve but looks like she’s fifteen. Guys talk about her and it drives me crazy.” He wipes the back of his hand across this brow. “And you?”

I could play ignorant and question why Ry would ask me, but we both know why. Carys is my sweetness, has been from the day I first laid eyes on her. It’s always been pure and innocent between us, but almost overnight, it’s changed, grown into this nameless, wild, desperate thing. It scares the shit out of me because I can’t act on it. She’s too young.

I’ll have to bide my time, but even with that and not fully understanding it, this thing between us feels natural, like it was always meant to be.

“What are the guys saying?”

I’m struggling to keep my anger buried before it gets the better of me. I wasn’t aware of any talk about Carys, but it doesn’t surprise me. Most of the guys know she’s mine, without me having to say a word. It also helps that I’ve got Ry and Tripp reinforcing that she’s off limits.

“Not bad shit.” He smirks, enjoying my frayed control. “You know, saying she’s hot and shit like that. Look, I’d rather not talk about this, it’s my sister we’re talking about.”

Unease slithers down my spine, leaving a heavy restlessness in my stomach. The urge to smash something or lock Carys away is overpowering, and neither is smart or possible.

The door to the bar opens and in comes Stacie. Damn, her timing sucks. She’s a girl I hang out with, definitely not my girlfriend, although she likes to think she is. Sure, we go out and we’ve kissed, but it’s casual.

“Hey, guys,” she says, with one of her bubbly smiles.

“Hey,” we answer in unison, putting down the last table.

She skips over to me and plants her lips on mine at the same moment Carys and Lauren enter the room. Carys stops, her mouth slightly open before it shifts into a frown. Our gazes clash as I abruptly pull away from Stacie.

Carys is pretty, freshly showered with her wet hair hanging loose down her back. Her tank top and jean shorts show off her healthy glow.

“Hey, Stacie,” Lauren says, pushing Carys into the room.

Stacie’s long blonde hair lightly whips my chest as she glances over at them.

“Hi! And you are?”

“Hi, I’m Lauren, and this is Carys, my best friend and Ry’s sister.”

“Hey… Care-iss? What a weird name.”

“Actually, it’s KA-riss,” Carys says snottily.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Carys rolls her eyes, obviously gearing up for a rebuttal as Tripp and Griff bound through the door. Tripp flicks his blond hair out of his eyes, striding purposefully for Carys. In one quick move, he grabs her hips and flings her over his shoulder. The poor girl squeals as Tripp jogs around the bar with her in his arms. Show-off.

“Tripp, put me down!” She laughs.

Planting her firmly on her feet, he twirls her around and tweaks her nose with the tip of his finger. “That was fun. Let’s do that again, real soon.”

“Let’s not and say we did!” She’s still laughing, beaming at both guys, and Stacie’s completely forgotten.

Leaving Stacie, I greet Tripp and Griff, ruffling the younger one’s shoulder-length blond hair. Carys stands in the middle of the four of us, the way it usually is.

She may be a girl, but she’s the core of our group. Each of us look to her as the final decision-maker and we’re quick to protect her, although she’d be the first to say she doesn’t need protecting.

“Of course you slackers arrive after all the work’s done.” I bump shoulders with Tripp. He grins, fully aware of his timing.

“Are you ready?” Griff asks Carys, running his hand through his hair. She nods.

“Where are you going?” Ry and I ask at the same time.

Carys looks between the two of us. Her brows knit, lips pursed in frustration or something close to it.

“None of your business,” she responds, as Griffin says at the same time, “We’re going for pizza, want to come?”

“No,” Carys states emphatically.

We eye her like she’s slapped us.

Her outburst makes it crystal clear: we’re not welcome. She’s never excluded us before. I catch her eyes surreptitiously glance at Stacie, her upper lip curling into a snarl. Scratch that—more accurately, she doesn’t want me and my companion around.

“Griff, I’d love to, I’m starving. Who’s in for pizza?” Ry says, taunting his sister.

She lowers her eyes to the floor, folding her arms across her chest. There’s a resounding chorus of “I am” from all except Carys. Griff moves in closer, cups her chin, and raises it to face him. He examines her face, and my guess is he’s apologizing for opening his mouth and inviting us. Also, he’s likely wondering why she’s acting the way she is.

Subtly shaking her head, she pulls her chin from his hold. Taking his hand in hers, she gives him a small squeeze and a shy smile. It’s only meant for him. Things are fine between them. Like I thought, it’s me she’s got a problem with.

“Hey, Stace.” I pull her away from the group. “I’m going to go with these guys. I’ll talk to you later.”

Each word out of my mouth confirms how much of a dick I am, but I refuse to make Carys uncomfortable. These are her friends, and I won’t do something that makes her bow out or hate every minute of it. Fuck, girls are so complicated.

“What? I can’t come?” Her disappointment evident.

“These guys made plans and you’re not going to crash ’em.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind if I come. Carys has her friend coming,” she protests, eyes on the group, ready to ask them if she can tag along.

“Stace, no. I’ll talk to you later.” My response is firm.

“Fine,” she says, sounding anything but as she leaves without a goodbye.

I don’t give her a second thought. If we’re done, fine. She’s a fun girl and I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but she’s not my concern.

“Let’s go, I could eat a horse.” I return to my small group of friends.

With nods and yeses, we head for the door. Purposely staying behind, I nab Carys’s belt loop, pulling her to me. Her shoulder bumps my chest and I hook my arm around her neck.

“We good?” I peer into her soulful eyes.

“Yeah.” The corners of her mouth turn up and my heart jerks at her dazzling, genuine smile. Finally, one for me. I’ll never get enough of her smile.

“Good.” I kiss the top of her head.

I draw her closer and her arm snakes around my waist, her hand flat on my stomach. A feeling akin to electricity jolts through my belly, and heat spreads from the warmth of her palm throughout my body. She’s right where I want her to be: in my arms.