54. Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Four

Indy — Then: Age Fifteen

B ethany Turner could kiss my grounded ass.

Not only had Mom taken my DVD of Dirty Dancing —the limited keepsake edition—she’d taken the Patrick Swayze poster off my wall. For two weeks, I wasn’t allowed to leave the house except for school or to waste away scrubbing crusty food off the diner tables.

And apparently to help search for the town’s missing golden boy.

Flashlight in hand, I stomped deeper into the woods behind my house. Mom and Dad had gone to join the rest of the search party, searching through the forest surrounding the Graham house. I’d been content to stay home and sulk, but Mom had asked me to do a quick sweep through our backyard.

She’d told me not to leave the yard, but after confirming there wasn’t a boy hiding in the chicken coop, I opened the back gate and stepped past the tree line. I might as well enjoy my freedom while I could, even if it was for something as pointless as this.

Nolan Graham wasn’t missing.

This hick town had a knack for taking the tiniest bit of information and blowing it out of proportion. Sheriff Turner had done the same thing to me, fining my parents because I’d “broken” two stop signs by throwing watermelons at them while driving down the highway. They weren’t broken. Dented, yes, but they stood just fine. And Nolan was fine too.

He was probably with his friends, shitting himself silly for turning the whole town into a frenzy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d snuck off to make out with some girl, one of the many who drooled over his superstar baseball skills. Gross. If I found Nolan pressed against some tree with his tongue down Bethany’s throat, I’d throw a watermelon at my own head.

A mist of rain filtered through the treetops, light enough I could still see but heavy enough I regretted not listening to Dad and grabbing my coat. My boot slipped, and I hit the ground with a smack, water seeping through my jeans. I gritted my teeth, wiping the leaves and pine needles off my hands and knees as I stood.

Why was I out here? Sure, I’d known Nolan since before kindergarten. He was constantly pulling my hair and stealing all the marshmallows from the baggy of Lucky Charms I brought to school every day. We were both freshmen, even ran in the same crowd occasionally, but we weren’t friends. We didn’t talk. He was too busy schmoozing everyone with his baby blue eyes, pretty smile, and how fast he could throw a baseball.

Fine, he was okay at baseball. It was his freshman year, and he’d led the baseball team to the state playoffs. They’d lost, but it was the school’s first time there in twenty years, and he was all anyone could talk about. I would’ve told someone to buzz off the moment they tried telling me what college I should sign with, but Nolan didn’t seem to mind.

Mom had told me I stirred up trouble because I was bored, claiming if I had some sort of hobby, I wouldn’t feel the need to vandalize stop signs or break curfew on Friday nights. I’d told her I wasn’t bored, I was having fun . To which she’d said, “Look at the Graham boy. You don’t see him getting in trouble, do you? It’s because he’s focused. He has an end goal.”

I hadn’t bothered to point out that Nolan had bought the watermelons.

Frustrated, I scooped the flashlight off the ground and started home. It was overcast and dark, and I couldn’t see the porch light from here, but I knew these woods like the back of my hand. Nolan was on his own. If he wanted to run away from Wallowpine, that was his right. Lord knew I was behind him.

I was halfway home, wondering where Mom had hidden my favorite movie, when something moved in the corner of my vision. Please don’t be a bear or a skunk. Oh hell, I think I’d prefer a bear. But when I flicked the light to the right and realized who was there, I would’ve been happy with either.

“Nolan?” I squinted, making no move to approach the figure crouched in the grove of trees not twenty feet from me. Golden strands peeked out beneath a baseball cap. It was him, all right. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t respond. Asshole.

Teeth chattering and pissed off, I strode toward him. “Okay, you had your fun—it’s time to go home.” I stopped a few steps short of where he sat on the forest floor, seeing red when he didn’t so much as look up at me. “Seriously, joke’s over. You scared the whole town. You should’ve seen your dad, your little brother—”

I fell silent, realizing Nolan wasn’t reacting. Not to my shouting, nor the branches creaking above us. He sat on his bottom with his legs curled to his chest, his back rising with heavy breaths. I knelt, fingers dipping into the soil as I dropped to his level.

His back was to an aspen tree, the white bark stark even in the night. His shoulders were tight, hands clenched. His breaths were shallow, like he couldn’t get enough air. His gaze was distant, unfocused. It wasn’t the same, but it reminded me of the look I’d see Dad sometimes get after his time in the military.

For the first time in his life, the golden boy didn’t look so . . . golden.

“Nolan.” My voice was cautious, easy. A mirror to how I’d heard Mom talk to Dad sometimes. “It’s Indy Tyler. I’m going to grab your hand, okay?” Pretending I wasn’t about to hold a boy’s hand for the first time, I carefully lifted one of his hands and wrapped it with mine. “Well, lookie there—we’re like two peas in a pod.” His breaths were shaky, but I assumed by the way he held my fingers, my touch hadn’t distressed him more. “Are you hurt?”

His grip tightened, his voice so throaty and low I almost didn’t hear him say, “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

My stomach dropped, not because I thought he was having a heart attack, but because I smelled a waft of liquor on his breath. “You’re not having a heart attack,” I whispered as his breaths quickened. “But you’re going to pass out if you don’t slow your breathing.”

He let out a low groan and rubbed at his chest with his free hand, as though trying to let something out. He was panicking. His breaths sped up, and the more I smelled the sure sign of alcohol, the more I thought I should get help. But Mom and Dad had taken away my phone, and I couldn’t just leave him here alone.

I grabbed his hand from his chest, squeezing his fingers. “Nolan, I don’t know where your mind is, but you’re with me. And I need you to slow your breaths.” I squirmed my way between his knees and knelt between his legs. “I know it’s hard, but you can do it—try and tell me three things you see. I’ll do it with you, okay?”

I scanned our surroundings, not knowing what the heckin’ bob I was doing. I’d seen Mom do this exercise with Dad to help ground him when his mind felt far, but I was butchering it. After telling him I saw a flashlight, pine needles, and a tree—it was dark, my options were limited, okay—I expected Nolan not to respond, but on a quiet pull of air, he gasped, “Stick, rock, freckles.”

I nodded. “Good—now three sounds you hear.”

He clamped his eyes shut, his shoulders shuddering. “Branches creaking. Rain falling. Peaches.”

I furrowed my brows—peaches? Where had that come from? Deciding it wasn’t worth pointing out there were no peaches to be seen or heard, I said, “I’m going to let your hands go . . . and I want you to move three body parts.”

I scooted back, the tips of his fingers grazing my palm as I slid them out of his hold. His arms hung at his sides, his breaths slower than when I’d first stumbled upon him. He lifted his arm and reached back, smoothing his hand on the aspen behind him. He raised his shoulders, then stretched his legs in and out.

I settled back onto my knees, helpless. I should get help. At least run to the house and see if my parents were home. But when Nolan closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree, I couldn’t make myself leave. I’d never seen him this way.

He looked . . . defeated.

I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself as a breeze blew through the trees, rain pelting my skin. “We should go.”

“No.” It sounded like a plea. “Not yet.”

I chewed on my lip, unsure. I didn’t want to force him, but we couldn’t stay here forever. “If you want, you can wait here, and I’ll go find your dad—”

“No. He has enough to worry about.”

I made a face. “You’ve been missing for five hours—I think he’s worried already.”

“I can’t deal with this right now.” He groaned, rubbing his palms against his eyes. “This is gonna kill Dad.”

“Well, we can’t stay out here,” I told him. The rain was picking up, and it was only a matter of time before someone found us—him. It didn’t matter if I’d found Nolan; my parents were going to flip their lid when they realized I’d left the house. But they hadn’t seen what I had, hadn’t felt his panicked breaths. “You can come to my house if you want. Just for a little bit.”

There was a boy in my room.

I teetered on my heels, lingering in the doorway of my bedroom. Nolan stood on the opposite side, looking as wary as I felt. His mouth was flat, his shoulders curled in, and his hands were shoved in the pockets of his soggy jeans. After changing into a fresh sweater and leggings, I’d thought about offering him something dry to wear, but I doubted anything of mine would fit him, and I wasn’t about to raid Dad’s clothes. My parents were still gone, but I’d taken a risk bringing Nolan here. I doubted Auburn would’ve snitched, but luckily she was out of town with friends anyway .

When I offered my house as a hiding spot, I never thought he’d accept. Figured he’d decline and make me suffer in the rain until I caught hypothermia. But he’d accepted without a thought, like a lost puppy who’d found a home.

I’d always been more of a cat person . . . but he’d do.

Endless generosity pouring out of me, I closed the distance between us. “Eat.” I shoved a bowl of cereal into his hands.

I struggled not to squirm beneath his gaze, slowly looking between me and the Lucky Charms. “Where are the little marshmallows?” He shook the bowl lightly, as though the colorful shapes would magically appear. “Did you eat them all?”

I scowled. My socks were soggy thanks to the water seeping out of his jeans—and he had the nerve to complain? “It’s my favorite cereal. I can share it with you however I want.”

“You don’t even like the marshmallows.”

“I love them! What kind of monster doesn’t?”

“Then how come I only see you eat the little oat pieces?” He plopped down in the chair at my desk, apparently content to stay. “You’re always picking those out first and leaving the marshmallows behind.”

How did he even know that? “I was saving the best part for last. But I never get to eat them because you’re always stealing them—”

“Because I thought you didn’t like them.” He was such a liar—he knew I loved them. The first time he’d stolen them I threatened to break his hand. “You can’t fault me for doing a beautiful girl a favor.”

I ground my teeth, wanting nothing more than to dump the bowl onto his head and wipe the grin off his face, even more so when he winked. This was the Nolan Graham I knew—not the exhausted version I’d found tonight. Empty, flirty words and bedazzling smiles, always ready to put on a show—

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head. Oh, Indy. You beautiful, wicked genius. Nolan watched me with a smug look as he ate his cereal, savoring each bite. He thought he had me fooled, entranced by his pretty blue eyes. But I saw right through him, saw not only the rigidness in his frame but the way his fingers trembled around the spoon .

He set the empty bowl on my desk, and I crossed my arms over my chest, tilting my head toward the door. “You should go. My parents will be home soon, and I’m not getting in trouble for you.”

He leaned back in the chair, the appearance of relaxed and cool. “You’re in the principal’s office at least every other week. You don’t care about getting in trouble.” I glanced at my nails, playing bored. “Come on. What’s a little more, peaches?”

Peaches again? Did he know I was allergic? I brushed it aside, refusing to let him sidetrack me. “Maybe I don’t mind it. But only if I know what I’m doing is worth getting in trouble for.”

I must’ve made it clear that if he wanted to stay here, I wanted something in return, as he then asked, “You want a kiss or something?”

I glared at him. He’d already stolen the spots as the first boy in my room and the first boy to hold my hand—no way was he stealing anything else. “I want to know what happened.” I wasn’t beating around the bush any longer. I liked being direct, and that was what he’d get. “If you want to stay here, you’re going to tell me why you disappeared after school and didn’t go home. You’re gonna tell me what I saw tonight and why you were drinking.”

“I wasn’t drinking.”

“Alright.” I started toward the door. “I’ll let everyone know you’re okay then—”

“Wait.”

I froze with my back to him, my stomach stirring with guilt. It felt wrong to push him like this; it was clear how uncomfortable it made him. But there was something in me, something I didn’t quite understand, that was clinging to the loneliness I’d seen in Nolan’s eyes. I doubted it was the first time he’d felt alone.

“Does your brain ever feel heavy?” His voice was throaty.

I sat on the edge of my bed, not understanding. “Like physically?”

He rested his head against the back of the chair, his gaze on the ceiling. “You know how when you go to bed, you’re certain the sun’s going to come up in the morning? Sometimes my mind feels the opposite of that. It feels like it’s never going to come up again. I don’t know why it does that . . . it just does. One day I’m fine, and then the next I’m randomly sad. But it’s more than sadness, if that makes sense. My body hurts . . . sometimes I feel anxious. Like I can’t get my brain to shut off and I’m trapped.”

“Is that why you ran away?”

“I wasn’t trying to run away.” He huffed an empty laugh, scrubbing at his mouth with his hand. “Some days I’m better at acting like it’s not there. I can put on a smile and pretend I’m normal. But today it was too much, and I had to get away. I read somewhere online that drinking can be a relief, sort of help you turn it off for a while, so I figured I’d try that. I could only manage half a beer though—that shit’s disgusting. I doubt it was enough to help.”

I pressed my lips together, resisting the urge to tell him I didn’t think drinking would help—no matter how much he consumed. For the first time in my life, I didn’t immediately react. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognized how important it was that Nolan had trusted me with this, even if I’d wrangled it out of him. “What happened tonight, when you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Does that happen a lot?”

“Maybe every few months.”

“And your dad doesn’t know? About any of it?” He shook his head. Aware Nolan was probably two seconds away from telling me that was enough, I pressed, “Why?”

I wasn’t a saint—I kept secrets from my parents. If we hadn’t gotten infections, Auburn and I never would’ve told them we’d tried piercing each other’s belly buttons. But this was different.

This was Nolan’s life.

He must not have seen it that way, as he only lifted his shoulders. “Between the shop and my brothers, Dad’s got enough going on—he doesn’t need to worry about me too. I’d rather him count on me instead.”

I didn’t respond. Didn’t try to piece together some profound statement on how everything was going to be okay or that everyone had bad days. Maybe I didn’t fully understand what he felt, but I knew it was more than sadness, more than a bad day. And Nolan hadn’t told me because he wanted me to fix it. He’d told me because he wanted to stay .

I slid off the bed and knelt in front of my dresser, digging through my drawers. After finding the biggest sweats and T-shirt I had, I held them out to him. “I don’t know how great they’ll fit, but I’m sure it’s better than getting a rash on your butt.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Me and my ass thank you.”

I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t miss the gratitude in his before I plopped down face-first on the mattress, not wanting to watch him change. Nolan Graham was changing in my bedroom. My bedroom. What kind of alternate world had I fallen into?

After he swore he was fully dressed, and I’d gone downstairs and confirmed my parents were still gone, I locked my bedroom door behind me. My stomach twisted with guilt, knowing Nolan’s dad and brothers must be so worried. But at least he was inside, safe.

“I won’t stay much longer . . . at least not until I ransack your stash of cereal.” He smiled, and there was something about the dimple in his cheek that had my heart racing.

But after what he’d admitted to me, I found myself saying, “You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to smile for me.”

“You don’t like when I smile?”

I shook my head, my lips twitching with a grin. “No. Your smile is kind of ugly.”

He laughed, the sound full and abrupt, completely fooled by my dirty lie. His smile was beautiful. Even more when I noticed the crinkles beside his eyes, the freckles dotting his rosy cheeks. Maybe some of his smiles were real .

“Well, I’d rather have an ugly smile than warts on my fingers,” he teased, and I raised a brow, confused. He raised one back. “I saw you put that toad in Bethany’s backpack.”

I snorted, not bothering to tell him that was a myth and toads didn’t give humans warts. “She deserved it. And after getting me grounded, she’s lucky if I don’t put one in her bag tomorrow.”

“You mind putting one in her bag for me? ”

“What do you have against Bethany?” I asked, pretending I wasn’t relieved he likely wasn’t kissing her against trees like I’d originally thought.

“Nothing. But she likes to gossip, so I’m sure she’ll be having a heyday talking about me tomorrow.” We both fell silent, aware it didn’t matter how long Nolan hid here—he couldn’t hide forever. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “The whole town’s never going to shut up. I can hear ’em now, talking about how I wandered into the forest and got lost. It’s going to be as bad as when my mom left.”

This was the first time I’d ever heard him acknowledge his mom. I was seven—like him—when his mom left. Despite being so young, I remembered how the town talked about it endlessly, that she’d abandoned her sons to chase a more fulfilling life. If I’d heard it, Nolan had too, and I couldn’t imagine how that had affected him.

I shook my head, seeing red just thinking about it. “Who cares what they think,” I told him, doubting that helped. “Besides, you weren’t lost . . . you were just taking a break. Oh!” I snapped my fingers. “We’ll just tell everyone you wanted to play a big game of hide-and-seek. I bet your dad would like that.”

He blinked, looking at me like I’d sprouted a third eye. “No one’s going to believe I was playing a little kid’s game.”

I gasped. “Hide-and-seek is not a little kid’s game—it’s one of my favorites! And since I’m the one who found you, I’m clearly better at it than everyone else.”

He shook his head, a tiny smirk on his lips. “Maybe we could play together sometime.” Before I could tell him I’d annihilate him, he asked, “You really don’t care what people think of you, do you?”

I did care. I’d never admit it, but in fifth grade, when some of the boys in our class called me a soulless ginger, I cried in the bathroom. Dad had picked me up from school that day. Red-eyed and stuffy nosed, I’d begged him to let me color my hair. He’d agreed to it—but only if I colored it lime green. Told me if I was going to let someone else dictate how I felt, then I wasn’t going to be happy with myself no matter what color I chose .

So instead of coloring my hair green, I’d shoved a grasshopper down Sam Peterson’s shirt.

I shrugged. “Everyone’s going to think what they want regardless. I might as well be happy.”

Nolan shook his head, disbelief in his tone. “You make it sound easy.”

I set my hands on my hips. “It’s less exhausting than caring what everyone thinks.”

He made a scoffing noise, but if he was bothered by my bluntness, he didn’t let it show. “I don’t know how not to care what they think of me. I know not everyone in this town is great, but a lot of them stepped up to help when Mom left. I don’t want their help to go to waste. I want them to be proud of me.”

I understood what he meant, wanting to make them proud. Maybe it was cheesy of me, but I thought he could make them proud while still being himself. I’d known Nolan my entire life, and this was the most real he’d ever felt to me.

Greedy for more, I asked, “Is that why you work so hard at baseball? You want to make the town proud?”

“No. I work hard because I love baseball. It came into my life when I needed something to look forward to. And I’m not just saying that because I’m good—I’d love it even if I sucked.”

“But you don’t.”

He raised a brow, a cocky smirk on his lips. “You been watching me play, peaches?”

I rolled my eyes, fighting my own smile. Okay, maybe Nolan being a flirty son of a gun wasn’t an act. “No,” I fibbed. “But the town never shuts up about you. I hear them talking in my parents’ diner all the time, arguing about what major league team you’ll play with.”

He lifted his shoulders as though it was no big deal, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he felt some sort of pressure. “I’ve got to make it out of this town first.”

I perked up at that. “I’m leaving Wallowpine too.”

“You got some big dream you’re chasing? ”

“Nope. I don’t have any plans at all.” I didn’t care if he thought it was strange I had no aspirations for my future. “But it’s easy to get sucked into a town like this forever, so I’m getting out as soon as I can.”

“You won’t miss your folks?”

“Maybe. But Mom’s always telling me my personality’s too big for this place, so I doubt she’ll mind.”

He watched me quietly, giving me a look I didn’t understand. “You feel just right to me, Indy.”

My chest burned in a way it never had before. “It’ll sort of be like we’re running away together.”

I internally winced—what was that? Before I could insist I hadn’t meant it as creepy as it sounded, Nolan murmured, “Yeah.” He smiled softly. “Maybe we will get to do it together.”

It was quiet after that, and Nolan’s eyes began to flutter closed. He sank deeper against the chair, his breaths growing heavier with every passing moment. Just as I was considering making him a bed on the floor, he sat up. “I should go.”

“You can stay,” I offered before I could stop myself. “If you want, you can go home in the morning and tell your dad you and I snuck off together and that’s why he couldn’t find you.”

He cocked a brow. “You’d get in trouble.”

I shrugged. My parents would be furious if he spent the night, even more so that I’d gone along with the ruse of him being lost when he’d been with me the whole time. But I didn’t care. Nolan and I would know the truth, and that was worth it.

“I’ll just tell him I was screwing around, maybe with a girl or some friends. But I won’t mention you.”

I swallowed thickly, pretending it wasn’t disappointment in my gut as he walked toward the door. But he lingered, his hand on the doorknob. “Do you think . . . you could just forget everything I told you tonight? Pretend you never found me? ”

His back was to me, but I could see the tension there. He was already closing up. It was why I said, “I can promise not to tell anyone, even promise to help make sure no one ever finds out. But I need something in return.”

He glanced over his shoulder, and I could’ve sworn there was amusement in his eyes. “What’s that?”

“Promise you’ll come to me.” My voice was quiet, and my heart pounded in my chest. “When your mind’s loud, or dark. Your heart’s racing and you’re thinking of reaching for a bottle. Promise you’ll come to me instead.”

His throat bobbed, and his silence told me I’d caught him off guard. It wasn’t until the red on his cheeks eased that he said, “Not that I’m opposed . . . but people might think we’re dating if they see us together.”

I snorted. Instead of telling him you wish , I said, “We can meet where we did tonight.” I didn’t care if he hadn’t promised. I’d do my best to hold him to it. “At the aspen tree.”

“Okay.”

I smiled.

He smiled back.

My heart warmed once more, as though a tiny light flickered inside me. I carried it with me throughout the night, even through school and detention the next day. And as the sun set and I raced through the forest behind my house, I felt it grow.

Nolan leaned against the aspen tree, his hands tucked in his pockets. We were in the middle of a lush and full grove, and even though there were ribbons of pink and red painting the sky, seeing him waiting for me might’ve been my favorite sight. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

After coming to a stop, I put my hands on my knees, slowing my breaths. “I told you I would.”

He smirked. “I wasn’t sure if you’d ever be allowed to leave the house after pulling the fire alarm.”

I waved him off. “I thought I saw a fire—not sure why I’d be in trouble for that. ”

He laughed, giving me a look like he knew I was full of it. But instead of asking if I’d pulled the fire alarm at school today as an attempt to get everyone to shut up about him for five minutes, he held out his hand. “I brought these for you.”

I grinned, snatching the little bag of Lucky Charms. “You know”—I popped a few marshmallows in my mouth—“if this is your way of saying thank you, I’ve got something way better in mind.”

His fingers grazed mine, stealing a few marshmallows before I could stop him. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Have you ever seen Dirty Dancing ? There’s this lift I’m wanting to try, but I need a partner.”