Page 40 of It Started with a Sunset
“True,” Hudson said. “We were a ton less chaotic by about the time we were in middle school.”
“So about the time I moved out and went to college,” Brock said.
His mom nodded. “These monkeys all grew up and got cleaner and calmer as they did. And every one of them has clean houses now.”
Little Gracie, who had been silently dipping a carrot in an obscene amount of ranch dressing, licking it off, then dipping it again, suddenly talked in her cute little voice. “Gramma, no looking at my room right now, ‘kay?”
And on and on the stories went. The more embarrassed Brock got, the more it fueled his siblings. But Summer seemed to love them all.
Then his brother Rylan said, “But remember that one time when I was like six and went into your room when you weren’t home and drew all over your walls?”
“I remember,” Brock said. “It was with a green marker. I think you were trying to draw a mural of the entire town.”
“I’m pretty sure I finished three of the walls before anyone caught me.” Rylan was laughing so much that he could barely understand him when he said, “You were so mad! I’m pretty sure you hated me for an entire year after that!”
“For the record, it wasn’t nearly that long.”
Brock looked over at Summer, expecting to see her laughing as much as she had been with all their other stories, but she wasn’t. The smile on her face wasn’t a real smile—he was getting very good at being able to tell when it was a fake. He would’ve guessed something was up anyway, though, by the way she wasn’t quite making eye contact.
But then his dad went over to the fire pit and used the hook tool to pull the lid off a Dutch oven and said, “The peach cobbler’s ready!”
The smell of it wafted over to their tables, and it was all anyone could talk about. Things were a little loud as everyone got bowls of Brock’s favorite dessert dished up and ice cream scooped on top, but everyone quieted as they started eating. He leaned in close to Summer. “Are you okay?”
She smiled widely. “Yep! Your family is so much fun.”
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything wasn’t okay.
Chapter Seventeen
Summer
Summer was in her bathroom, getting ready to go to the Saturday night tri-town meet-up, directly across the hall from where Valeria was getting ready in her bathroom. It was nearly seven, which meant that it had been almost twenty-four hours since she’d had dinner with Brock’s family. So that also meant that she’d had plenty of time to get over the new fears that had presented themselves.
Except she hadn’t gotten over them. In fact, they seemed to be multiplying as the day went on.
She turned around and leaned against her counter, her powder brush still in her hand. “I just can’t get the conversation out of my head when Brock’s brother was telling about drawing on Brock’s walls and that Brock was mad at him for a year.”
Valeria’s eyes flicked from where she was leaning in close, focusing on her eyes as she applied eyeliner to meet Summer’s eyes in the mirror. She finished that eye, then turned around and leaned against her own counter, facing Summer, one eye still without eyeliner.
“Brock was a kid then. He was, what, ten? Eleven? You can’t really judge him for something that he did that long ago. Plus, I really doubt he hated his brother for a year. This one time, my brother Santiago went into my room when I wasn’t home and poured water into every one of my shoes. Weird choice, I know. Siblings do things to bug each other—it’s part of their job description. When I came home and saw it, I shouted something like ‘I’m never going to forgive you in my entire life,’ and I got over it in a day. Okay, maybe two.”
“No, I totally get that it’s something stupid and that it’s not something that should even remotely matter right now. And really, Idon’tjudge him for it at all. It’s not about that. I know that in the grand scheme of things, this is minuscule. But as stupid as it is that I’m fixating on something that happened so long ago, I just can’t stop. Things are heading toward getting very serious for us. Did I tell you that every single one of his siblings is already married?”
Valeria nodded.
“And that he’s the oldest byfour years?”
Valeria nodded again.
“And his family was all looking at me like I’m the one. And maybe Iwantto be the one. But maybe that’s also terrifying.”
“Why? You really like him.”
Maybe it went far beyond “like.” Lately, whenever she thought of him, “love” was the word that popped into her head every time.
“I know. I do. But Val, marriage isn’t temporary and I know that if we stay on the path we’re on, that’s where we’re headed. I could see it in the faces of every adult in his family. I can see it in Brock’s face. Andforeveris scary.”
“Why?”
