Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

EASTON

C autiously optimistic is the theme these days. Chase is still licking his wounds a bit, but after believing he did something awful, that’s understandable. I scared him; I know that. But talking it out really helped both of us—yuck, I really hate that communication actually works—and since then, we're doing better than ever.

As much as my instinct was to clam up until it festers into a massive problem, I’m quickly learning that if I do the opposite of whatever my knee jerk reaction is then I’ll probably end up okay. Aggravating, but hey, I can change.

Really, the hardest part for me to let go of is how failed I feel by Mom and Dad. I didn't think it bothered me, but it's obviously still causing issues for me. Maybe because I just don’t understand so many aspects of my childhood. Brady has made it clear to me that we both walked out of their house for the last time without the slightest clue that we didn't know a thing about how to live outside of their influence.

He was able to unpack the worst of it in college with Chase gently nudging him in the right direction. I, on the other hand, got dog-piled on and accidentally cemented things that had no business sticking around in my head. Jackhammers are a thing, though, so maybe all this mess I’m sorting through will become more manageable.

Chase is easy. He might need a few more words of encouragement than he did a couple of weeks ago, but I’m a praise whore who can give as good as I get, so sign me up, Coach.

My brother… That's a more challenging issue. Talking shit about the way we were raised comes easy, he still has some lingering resentment too. But anything else and I’m dragging my feet about it.

Since the one time I acted out of desperation and told him what happened with Chase, I’ve been able to repeat that exactly zero times.

I can only do so much at a time, or that’s how I’m consoling myself about it.

But all of that is going into a nice little box for the weekend because Parker is here for holiday and the main event—my first concert.

He might be as excited as I am. It does something horrific to my insides to even think about how important this seems to be for him so I’m choosing not to. Besides, we have bracelets to make, anyway.

Another thing I’m choosing not to think about is how much he spent on beads for this project. But that's because I spent every last dime I had buying a GED test prep course and a new ID.

Something about my old one wasn't sitting well with me. It’s hard to put my finger on, but I really don't think I posed for the picture on it. I spent a huge chunk of time emotionally checked out, and it’s bugging me. As I unpack more and more about my relationship, the more red flags start standing out that should have been noticeable to me all along. This is just one of the ones I can do something about, so I will. Seems easy enough.

And once I have my GED, who knows what I’m capable of. I’m hovering on the edge of connecting with my art. What I’ve been able to scratch out so far is rough, hard around the edges. Wobbly, almost. Nothing like what I used to be able to create, but it is a vast improvement over giving it up entirely so I’m trying to not be hung up over it.

Parker hums happily as he starts unpacking the boxes and boxes of plastic, colored beads. “Think we have enough?” he asks, spreading them out between us on the living room rug, giving us plenty of room to work.

“You got one of every box in the store,” I remind him. He insisted on it, actually. No sooner than we’d gotten back from the airport that he’d whisked me away on a treasure hunt. Chase only laughed and wished me luck.

But Parker and I had a ton of fun. Sure, he can talk like an auctioneer but it was almost comforting in its familiarity. It reminded me of what Brady and I used to be like before there was a mile of baggage between us. When he’d steal me away on a lazy Saturday and we’d spend all day laying in the sand or window shopping, while he’d go on and on about whatever struck his fancy.

Parker told me about his girl troubles, the cute things Sage had been up to this week—apparently he lives with her and Logan part time, this was his week with them—and how whatever drama was going on at work. Veterinary offices are the new hair salons, yes; that was a direct quote, although I’ve yet to figure out how he ended up working there when he graduated with a degree in sports medicine.

It was a wild ride, considering all we did was stop at a craft store and a smoothie bar. “Well, they all had different colors and we needed options.”

If you don't judge a book by its cover was a person, it’s Parker. His chocolate hair is cut stylishly and his clothes are well-thought out and intention-looking, making him seem really put together for someone in his early twenties. His forest green eyes sparkle with mirth, but the sharp jawline and straight nose give the impression of someone who is confident and imposing. If I saw him walking down the street, I’d think he has no personality besides being pretty and makes everyone hate him for it.

But here he sits, cross-legged on the rug, carefully arranging the color pallet for an armful of friendship bracelets he intends to wear to a three-hour pop concert. It’s baffling. I like it. “Options are good,” I agree, joining him and starting construction of my own bracelet. It’s impossible to tell why, but for some reason, this is important to him. And not for the obvious I spent a shit-ton of money on this so it better be good reason ; more like he’s trying to create a special memory? I don’t really know, but it’s sweet.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go with your brother? I would totally understand.” It’s out before I can stop it as embarrassment floods my cheeks. Why do I have to be like this? Who needs this much reassurance? It can’t be normal.

Parker’s face screws up in confusion. “But I got them for us. Why would I want to go with Chase?”

“You did what?” I squeak.

Surely, he doesn’t mean that… He chews on his bottom lip before glancing around the room. “Um, yeah. Okay, so, I wasn’t going to say that. But is it the worst thing ever? I saw them, and it seemed like a golden opportunity to do something just the two of us.”

Swallowing thickly, I focus on my bracelet so I don’t do something fucking stupid like start crying. “Why would you want that?”

Purple, white. Purple, white. It doesn’t matter if he even answers; it was a dumb question. Purple, white. Don’t spell anything wrong, stupid.

A warm hand reaches across the rug and squeezes my leg briefly, just above my ankle. “Easton, look at me,” he murmurs.

Grinding my molars together, I do. “I know it’s easy to assume ulterior motives, but really, truly, I just want us to be friends. Big families are hard to adjust to, so smaller groups help make it less overwhelming.”

After coughing to clear the lump in my throat, I ask, “Have you done this before?” With guys that Chase brings home, I tack on internally.

Parker shrugs. “Sure, baseball games were more his style though. But it’s cool, any kind of outing is just as fun as the next as far as.”

I nod and get started on another bracelet without finding the right thing to say in response to that. Just another worry on the list, I suppose. Am I measuring up to the guys that came before me? Unless Chase collects boyfriends straight out of the psych ward, there’s a good chance that I’m the least stable, which is a blow.

After what couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Parker’s maximum silence tolerance, he pipes back up. “But Brady is more of a sports guy. You know that. Me? I like anything. Being picky is how you get bored, if you ask me.”

Wait, what? “I’m confused,” I admit.

Parker hums as he ties off his latest creation. When he holds it up for approval, I nod, biting back a smile despite myself. “Well, Brady is the only person worth putting in the effort for until now. Curtis, that’s Sage’s dad, he was a total jackass from the jump so none of us even bothered. We aren’t exactly giving out tickets to the Adler circus, if you know what I mean. I would, obviously, for the right person, but it’s a lot of pressure. None of my girlfriends have made the cut so far. Logan or Emerson either.”

It takes me a decent chunk of time to process the info-dump, but he left out the sibling that I was asking about, I think. “And Chase…?” I gently hedge.

He snorts. “I just said that. Chase brought home you and Brady.”

I barely resist the temptation to dig my hands into my eye sockets. “But he hasn’t brought home any guys he was dating?”

“What guys? Chase doesn’t date. Everyone knows that. If he’s ever had a boyfriend, I damn sure didn’t know about it.” He pauses momentarily. “Then there was you,” he adds happily, making my heart constrict dangerously.

If I was the hugging type, I’d launch myself across this damn carpet and squeeze the life out of Parker. The easy way he refers to me as Chase’s boyfriend, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, makes my head spin. How fucking pleased he seems by the notion. Like I’ve already received the golden ticket, a whole family that not only accepts me but wants to bond with me.

Take that, Momma. I never needed you, anyway.

I hope one day, when her wrath has long since burned out, I hope it hurts. That she sits alone in some nursing home, watching the families of other long-term residents visit and wonders about us. The boys she turned her back on because of something as intrinsic to me as my blue eyes. Her sons, who chose each other and didn’t look back.

Even with the awkwardness that comes with rebuilding once a wall of lies comes crumbling down, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that Brady would ever look back to that house in Florida with anything other than contempt. He didn’t know if I was dead or alive and still didn’t lean on them for support or familiarity.

Parker pulls me from my thoughts by tossing a bracelet in my lap. Upon inspection, it’s made of glitter beads arranged in a rainbow. “It’s pretty,” I tell him.

“You didn’t read it.”

Also true. I thought my role here was to simply approve of his creative process, not spell check him. I’m expecting a short lyric or song title, but instead, I find a name. Mine. “Parker…”

“We’re making friendship bracelets. It’s, like, required that we make at least one for each other. Do you like it? I went with rainbows because they’re pretty, and Chase said you like pretty colors.”

“I do like pretty colors,” I murmur. What is with these people? Can’t at least one of them be a chronic underachiever with a personality deficiency? Do all of them really have to be so damn thoughtful?

I’m not mad, not really, but I am floored by the whiplash I’m experiencing. It’s going to take some effort on my part to not second-guess this, wondering if it’s really too good to be true. If at the slightest stumble on my end, they’ll decide I’m not worth it anymore.

But I am going to try.

“It’s perfect, Parker. Thank you,” I mumble, forcing myself to meet his eyes.

His chipper voice breaks up some of the gravity I’m feeling, thank fuck. “You gotta make me one too, or it doesn’t count. It’s, like, a curse or something.”

“We can’t have that,” I say with a laugh.

~~~

Hours later, Parker and I are driving with the windows down and the speakers so loud, I’m sure I’ll have hearing damage. We’re covered in glitter, thanks to a very nice girl we met with sparkling hairspray and body gel that she was kind enough to share. We twinkle in the moonlight as our fingers dance in the wind. My arms are heavily weighed down from elbow to wrist with friendship bracelets we’ve been swapping with fellow concert goers all night long, but one in particular is hiding in my pocket so I didn’t accidentally give it away.

My heart is light. Lighter than it has been in years. Hell, maybe even longer than that. I finally got my brother back, rocky as it is. There’s a whole family that accepts me with open hearts and doesn't judge my weaker moments.

And most amazingly, there’s a boy who looks at me like I make the sun rise. A boy with glacier blue eyes and a dazzling smile that he reserves just for me.

A boy I’d very much like to get home to considering I haven’t seen him since this morning. Brady tore him away to work on the mess of a deck they left in his backyard, so he’s been fairly busy.

“So, what did you think?” Parker asks as he turns the stereo down to a mostly reasonable level.

We sang until we lost our voices, smiled until our cheeks ached and beyond. He knows, but I tell him all the same. “It was incredible. Thank you for taking me.”

He smirks at me. “I knew you’d have a good time. So worth it. I’m going to have to scrub my scalp raw to get all this shit off, though,” he says, gesturing at his hair.

Just picturing Chase’s face when he inevitably touches my hair and comes away as sparkly as a newborn unicorn makes me laugh. “We might have let her get a bit carried away.”

Parker’s deep laugh joins mine. “Just a little bit.”

Headlights from the car behind us shine brightly in the side mirror, prompting me to turn and look. After a double take, I roll my eyes, catching Parker’s attention. “What’s wrong? ”

I glance up again, just to be sure, and sigh. “Nothing. You just ever start noticing something everywhere that normally you wouldn’t?” Parker nods, so I keep going. “Well, my thing is that same model of car behind us. I swear I’m seeing them everywhere.”

He hums in consideration. “I feel you. Mine is Saint Bernards. I mentioned one time to Em that I never see them, and I’ve probably seen a dozen since then. The universe is weird.”

“Super weird,” I agree.

The silence grows between us, the comfortable kind where we both just fall into our own thoughts and don’t feel pressured to fill it with chatter. The concert must have really worn him out.

Seattle passes us by slowly as I try to take it all in. It’s a beautiful city, but more than that, it’s the first place I’ve felt remotely comfortable in years. Aaron never let me explore much, and we bounced around too often to ever get attached to any one place. Even when we’d go out to a nice restaurant, the only outing we ever did together, he’d almost always order a car service and make sure I was too busy entertaining him that I didn’t get a proper chance to look around.

I’ve seen more of Seattle in the weeks I’ve been here than I have of anywhere I lived over the past four years. It makes me sad, even disappointed in myself for not noticing what was happening to me. Chase wants me to give myself some grace, he says it all the time, but he didn’t spend years ignoring the constant dread sitting in his stomach like lead.

How small I made myself just for an ounce of approval.

It makes me shudder to even think about it.

Not having to earn someone’s affection is really doing a number on me. It feels like I have to be super aware of every second so I don’t miss a thing, but I’m somehow more relaxed than I know what to do with. It’s also making me look back to six months ago, and feel blindingly embarrassed.

What sucks is I knew better. I saw how the church kept my mom dependent on my dad so she never had any choice but to put up with his rage. She couldn’t leave. How could she when she didn’t have a job? The house and cars weren’t in her name, and I’d bet the same with the bank account.

I used to hear the pastor’s wife talking about submitting to your husband and cringe. I would promise myself that it would never be me, but what I wasn’t prepared for is how fucking gradual it is. No one sits down a potential partner and says, “Hey, I like you and I’d like to take this to the next level by cutting you off from everyone that loves you, and making sure that you can never leave me by manipulating you to sacrifice yourself. That way you don’t even blame me when you have nothing besides this toxic relationship.”

It’s a hard thing to come to terms with, even harder when I still can’t decipher half of what actually happened to me. How many times did I think about reaching out to Brady, even if it was only so he’d have to disown me to my face?

Maybe it was supposed to be this way. Maybe I needed time, perspective and to be a little older before I was ready to see the harsh reality I’d found myself in. Doesn’t really do much for the invasive thought wiggling around in my brain about how different things could have been.

Parker slams on the brakes so suddenly, I can barely get my hands up in time to prevent myself from slamming into the dash. He swears colorfully, while I try to take stock of my surroundings. Literally no one is in front of us, except for the car that nearly made us rear-end them. Maybe an animal was in the road?

As I press a shaky palm to my chest, I find my heart racing. “Fuck, Easton. Are you okay?”

Am I? I think so. Scared, mostly, which is fine. “Fine. And you?” The emblem on the back of the car snags my attention, before it takes off at top speed, like they didn’t almost just cause a collision. I wonder if it was the same one that had been behind us. Surely not, just an odd coincidence, I suppose.

He shakes his head, dislodging some of the glitter holding his chestnut hair in place. “Good thing I was paying attention,” he mutters. “That’ll certainly make you keep both hands on the wheel.”

He takes off again, and I swallow the remaining tendrils of fear sending chills down my arms. Near miss, is all. Everything is fine. Parker saw it and nothing bad happened.

For the remainder of the drive, we both keep up a steady stream of chatter fueled almost entirely by hyper-awareness. By the time we make it home, I’m more than ready to see Chase. I find him in my brother’s backyard in the middle of an argument that brings a smile to my face.

He waves a hammer in a way that some might call threatening. “I’m fucking done, Brady. This is my last goddamn reno project. It’s not worth it anymore.”

There’s nothing better than Chase in all his various forms, when he’s being soft and sweet to me, when he’s lovingly exasperated with his family are some of my favorite sides of him. But dramatic Chase? He never fails to make me stupidly happy.

Brady groans loudly. “You would say that on my turn. Of course it wouldn’t be when we spent a week figuring out how to lay flooring in your house. It’s a deck, not the fucking Sistine Chapel. It’s going to be fine.”

He gestures around him wildly. “What is fine? This sure isn’t. We don’t know what we’re doing, Brady. For fuck’s sake.”

My brother laughs. “Since when have we ever? We’ll figure it out, drama queen. ”

Chase scowls, still having not heard me and Parker sneak in the gate so we can watch the show. “You can’t call me that. It’s homophobic.”

Brady’s head drops between his shoulder blades, looking at the sky like he’s begging for patience. “It’s not homophobic if you’re acting like one, and while we’re at it, stop calling me homophobic when you want to win an argument.”

“No,” he tosses back easily. “It’s fun for me.” He chooses that moment to finally notice that they’re no longer alone, and a big smile stretches across his face as his eyes lock with mine. Butterflies erupt in my stomach, and I’m tempted to run into him like it’s the ending of a cheesy rom-com. I resist, but barely. “Hey, there you are.”

Okay, so maybe I jog a little, but so does he. “Hi,” I murmur against his lips.

He smells like wood shavings, salt, and mine. His hand cups the back of my neck as he presses his mouth to mine. At the first taste of him, I loop my arms around him and deepen it. I can’t get enough. Someone whistles, probably Parker, but I don’t care. He’s all that matters.

I’m breathless when I pull away, and Chase looks dazed himself. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”

I don’t. I’m wearing skinny jeans and I changed into the shirt Parker bought for me that the girl in the seat next to ours managed to crop without scissors. Apparently, it was to accentuate my waist. Not something I’d normally care about, but it did seem important to her.

A little warning that I’d be tugging on it constantly would have been cool. I feel naked, I most definitely do not look incredible. More like a sparkly wreck.

Chase laughs and kisses my temple, making my insides melt. “Well,” he starts. “How was it?”

He looks between me and his little brother, probably amazed that Parker has managed to not talk about it for five minutes. “Amazing. We had the best time.”

As Parker launches into his recounting of events, we all settle on the fragments of the deck. Chase tucks me under his arm, playing with the exposed skin above my jeans, and I decide maybe that girl from the concert really had a point about my waistline.