Page 29 of Vipers & Roses

“You could at least be a little more enthusiastic,” he grumbles, annoyed. He doesn’t understand my attitude and why I prefer to be aloof from them. I’ll never tell them the truth, so it has to be this way for a while.

“Yeah,” I mumble, ripping the meat off a chargrilled steak with my teeth and humming at the taste as Rory joins us. “This is great.”

“Dad’s the best at the barbeque,” Rory chimes in, stating the obvious.

“I agree,” I add, smiling at Dad while ignoring the sadness on his face at losing a daughter and confused by the distance I’ve placed between them and me. I wish I could tell him that they did nothing wrong, and it’s grief and anger that I must work through. But that would mean raising the subject of my attack, and I can’t bear to do that yet. They don’t need to know the details, and they don’t need to know that one of the men who harmed me is standing on their balcony having a friendly chat with their oldest son.

“I do my best,” Dad proudly states as the sadness behind his eyes vanishes and is replaced with a tiny sparkle. “Grilling the perfect steak is an art form acquired from experience.”

Mom smiles from the table, and I return a smile. Then, naturally, when anxiety stirs, I check the time on my phone, quickly noting that there are no messages for me. I wonder what Cormac is doing today? The elite swimmers train for 6 hours per day, 3 hours in the morning and another 3 hours in the late afternoon, but there are several hours in between that he needs to fill in.

After last night's drama, I imagine him spending the day with his father. Although I’m unconvinced, his excuse to leave had anything to do with Gabe and everything to do with Blake/Black, or maybe it was Blank contacting him.

“Wakey wakey,” Rory says, tugging on my arm. “You were a million miles away, and I was trying to talk to you.”

“Sorry, Ro, I’m concentrating now.” I apologize, hug him, and cringe when Gavin’s narrowed eyes drink me in. A million miles away feels like a good place to be right now.

15

Obsessively, I check the time on my phone to know when to announce that it’s time to leave before dark. I’ll give it another twenty minutes and then hug everyone goodbye. Considering the circumstances, I’ve stayed as far away from Gavin the Pig as possible for the last forty minutes. I look at him now and again to check where he is and what he’s doing, and twice, our eyes meet by accident. I hope he doesn’t read into that and think I’m interested in him, as the only reason I looked at him was to make sure he was nowhere near me.

While Max, Rory, Dad, Hannah, and The Pig are playing football on the beach, I can catch up with Mom. Usually, I’d be keen to join in with some rough and tumble, but it’s too risky that Gavin might touch me and pretend that he’s just fooling around.

“I really do miss you, Rae,” Mom says softly, and my heart tugs in my chest.

“I miss you too, Mom, but college is demanding, and I have a job too,” I throw my hands into the air, “Adulting is hard sometimes.”

“It’s so odd,” she says, gazing at our family laughing down on the beach, “you were never interested in plants and dirt when you were a kid. It was always the water. Every day you were in the water, either swimming, diving, surfing-”

“Bathing,” I add since I had a reputation for taking long showers and holding up the bathroom, and that was amplified after The Four destroyed me, where I felt dirty all the time.

She laughs. “Oh yes,” she pats me on the knee. You used to drive Max insane. Gosh,” she sighs, “Time flies.” She’s wearing sunglasses, but I can tell by how her nose reddens slightly that she’s tearing up.

“You’ve still got Rory,” I remind her, “and Max lives a few blocks away.”

“Yes, but-”

“Hannah seems nice,” I interrupt because I know she’s about to say something to stir guilt in my already guilt-ridden heart.

“Yes, she’s lovely. Max seems very happy with her. And you?” she squeezes my knee, “have you met anyone special yet at university?”

Cormac storms into my mind, but it’s too early to tell if he’s ‘special’ although after seeing him in Speedos, I can say that he’s got plenty of talent. “No one special yet.”

She growls, “Don’t work too hard. I worried you’d miss out on the best years of your life while training on the swim team.”

“You think the teenage years are the best years of our lives?” I ask curiously, “Because I think my best years are yet to come.”

“Oh yes, those teenage years are for having fun and experimenting,” she explains wisely.

I chuckle at her choice of words. “Experimenting? Whoa, ma. Please tell me you experimented with sex, drugs, and rock and roll in high school. I need to picture you wearing ripped denim with a blunt hanging from your mouth.”

“A what?” her fingers run over the rim of her glass.

“Blunt. Dope. Green. Mary Jane.” Her face still looks blank, and my enthusiasm for a rebellious mother solely dissipates. “Marijuana.”

“Oh, no. We used to call that grass,” she informs me, assuming I’ve never heard of the term.

I splutter. “And did you drink and smoke grass regularly?” I enquire using my best Sherlock voice.

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