23. Tammy

CHAPTER 23

TAMMY

There. I finally said it.

And Baxter looks like a soft breeze could blow him over right about now.

With a quiet tut, I reach for my teabag and start dunking it in the boiling water.

I'm probably venturing into really dangerous territory here, but I can't help myself.

I've been here for two weeks, and Baxter and I have yet to have one decent conversation. It's all surface features and stuff about Kai.

He hasn't asked about what went down with Hudson. He hasn't asked me how I'm really doing or where I'm planning to go in the future.

He's just acted like me being here is the most normal thing in the world.

Which it kind of is, but also totally isn't.

I know I can never get back what we once had, but the least we can do is remember it. Maybe reminiscing might help fix what's broken between us.

Dropping the hot teabag in the sink, I take a seat on the kitchen stool, leaning my arms against the island. "Do you remember that time we tried to make teabags fly? You saw that clip on YouTube—Bill Nye the Science Guy or something—and you wanted to try it."

There's a heavy beat before he snorts out a laugh and shakes his head. "I burned a permanent mark into your mom's kitchen counter."

"And we told her it was Dad when he was cooking dinner." I wince, fighting a laugh.

"And she banned him from the kitchen."

I start giggling. "He had no idea what she was talking about, but he didn't care. The guy hated cooking anyway."

He snickers and shakes his head. "I remember that time your mom was away and he was in charge of meals. I'd never seen him so stressed."

"Your mom had to come over and rescue him." My laughter gets a little louder as I picture that look on my poor dad's face. Sweat was pouring off his forehead, and he was muttering curses—the kind he told us off for saying. I remember my sister being grounded for a week over the stuff that had been coming out of his mouth that night.

"We got up to some crazy stuff, didn't we?" He moves to sit opposite me, the stool scraping on the ground as he shifts it to fit.

His broad shoulders fill his shirt so perfectly. The fabric strains just a little as he adjusts the stool one more time, then finally takes a seat.

My stomach trembles as I picture what must be beneath that cotton. Layers of taut muscle and raw strength. I saw the promise of it that summer before senior year, but I bet it's even more impressive now.

With a thick swallow, I focus back on my tea and sip the peppermint brew.

Baxter draws pictures with his fingers on the countertop, the silence falling between us soft and comforting.

"I used to love doing science experiments with you. Or magic tricks." His voice is low and husky, and my insides twirl with pleasure when he glances up and gives me one of his lopsided grins. "Do you remember that Halloween when I wanted to be a magician and you were gonna be my assistant?"

I cough up my mouthful of tea, spluttering and laughing as I wipe the drips off my chin and remember. "There was no way I was being an assistant, so I made you wear the red dress, and I got the top hat."

"Yep." He nods, his face turning fire-engine red. "How the hell did you talk me into that?"

"I have no idea, but you were always better at the card tricks than I was." I shake my head, then start to laugh again. "Man, did you look hot in that dress."

He closes his eyes with a deep cringe. "Ugh. Don't. I can't believe I didn't get arrested for that shit."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure ‘Officer Pam' wanted to arrest you."

His ears start pulsing red as I wiggle my eyebrows at him.

"She had such a massive crush on you."

"Yeah," he murmurs, his eyes darting to the counter.

"But she gave up pretty quick when she realized you were afraid to talk to girls."

"I wasn't afra—" He tips his head. "Okay, fine, I was petrified. But I wasn't scared to talk to you."

"I didn't count." I shrug. "I was your bestie. It wasn't like that betw—" My words cut off, and the silence that follows is far from comforting. I'm sure we're both remembering the swimming hole right about now, and I can sense Baxter's urgent need to flee.

Before he can bolt, I quickly change the subject.

"One of my favorite memories is actually the Die Hard movie marathon. Do you remember that?"

"Of course I do." His shoulders relax, and I let out a breath as he starts quoting lines from the movies.

"The first one's still the best."

"Agreed." He nods. "Although number four's pretty good too."

"With Justin Long, right?"

"Yeah."

"I love that guy." I grin. "I think we spent the next couple weeks playing cops, didn't we?"

"Yeah." He cringes. "And we were like way too old to be doing that. We must have been like fourteen or fifteen by then."

"I know." I laugh, finishing my tea and grinning at him. "We were kids for probably way longer than was necessary, but that was all part of the fun. I mean, we used to play Simon Says all the time. Remember that teacher we had in junior year, I think it was? Mr. McCaulkin. He was super strict."

"And super boring." Baxter bulges his eyes.

"Which is why I started that game again. Remember? I passed you that note…"

His gaze grows distant as he shakes his head, obviously reliving the scene. "Simon Says make a fart noise."

"And you did. You actually did it." I can hear the glee in my voice as I'm transported back to that classroom and the laugh I could barely contain as Baxter put his hand to his mouth and let out the loudest, wettest fart sound I'd ever heard.

The class erupted, and Mr. McCaulkin spent the next five minutes trying to figure out who made that noise. No one gave Baxter up… and they kept me safe, too, when ten minutes later I was reading his note.

Simon Says: Do the Taken speech in the Batman voice.

He knew I'd memorized those epic lines by Liam Neeson, and when Mr. McCaulkin's back was turned, I quickly rushed out the words in the deepest, roughest voice I could.

The girls behind me started tittering, and the guys turned with impressed grins as I got to the end of it before the teacher spun with an angry glare and shouted, "Who keeps disrupting my class!"

"Man, we played that game all year." I grin, loving this reminiscing.

"It definitely turned algebra from the worst class to my favorite that year."

"Oh yeah, it did." I raise my hand, and he gives me a quick high five.

Just like old times.

Just like us.

We keep smiling at each other until I drop my hand, curling my fingers back around that mug.

"We were the best, BB."

"Yeah," he croaks.

"Senior year wasn't the same without you."

His brow buckles in confusion. "I was still there."

I shake my head, my eyes starting to glisten. "No, you weren't."