Page 45 of Hiss and Make Up
Her feet were rooted in place, and her eyes were glued to the cypress swing hanging from the porch a few yards away. Even in the dark, before Marc flipped the light on, Sierra knew where everything was. That swing. Marc’s dad’s workshop. The fence line. The bayou beyond the property. She could smell the muddy waters. Hear the frogs.
She was home.
The dog was the only thing different. The only thing reminding her that this wasn’t the past. As soon as Sierra had slipped the rope off his neck, the dog bounced and pranced in the grass like a puppy. Even Marc couldn’t help himself and bent down to scratch the dog’s ear when it hopped over to lick his hand. Marc looked much less pleased when the dog found a nice, quiet corner and took a gigantic dump on the grass.
“You okay?” He walked toward her, concern set deep in his furrowed brow.
“Yeah,” she said. “This is just…weird.”
He followed her gaze to the swing and cleared his throat. “So Luna was pretty cute.”
Sierra shook her head and looked away from the ghosts on the swing. “Yeah, she’s great.”
“Is she shy, or is it just me she didn’t like?”
“She liked you fine,” Sierra said. “She doesn’t talk.”
“To strangers or at all?”
“At all. Not since her dad died last year.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sierra shrugged. “We’re working on it.” And they would work on that as soon as she got this reward.
“Listen, I know this won’t mean much now, but I’m sorry about Kassie,” Marc said. “Honestly though, I was fifteen.”
Sierra flinched at the words. She didnotwant to talk about their past right now, but even worse, she didn’t want to talk about Kassie. She wanted to rub his face in the mess the dog just made. “I don’t care that you went out with her.”
“Seems like you do.”
“Fine. I cared that you went out with the girl who told the whole school when I got my period and stained my pants in seventh grade. I cared that you said you couldn’t stand her either, and the second I was out of sight you decided to suck face with her.” She paused to catch her breath, her heart racing with anger. She hadn’t meant for any of that to come out. “But what I cared most about was that you didn’t even bother to tell me you started going out with someone. I had to hear it from her cousin who went to my school and had it out for me even more than Kassie did for some reason. And I wouldn’t have cared at all about any of it if you hadn’t gone and kissed me and confused the hell out of everything then ghosted.”
He swallowed and pressed his lips together. Thinking. Like he didn’t have fifteen years to come up with a better answer. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”
“Wait, you kissed me, insisted we keep in touch, then went out with another girl without telling me because you didn’t want to hurt me?”
“Kind of. Yeah.” He sighed. “I realize now it was stupid and selfish.”
She didn’t know what to say to him. It was the most honest thing he’d ever said to her. But it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Not that she even knew what she wanted to hear.
He knew her history. He knew her mom had walked out on her and her dad, and done who knows what other things her dad kept secret from her.
What hurt the most was that she and Marc had been friends. Best friends. Then he’d muddied everything up with that kiss, and then she was out of sight and out of mind. Just like that. No matter his reasons, that’s what happened.
And now he’d kissed her again.
He knew Sierra wasn’t in the habit of handing out second chances to people who walked out on her. Whatever she was feeling, whatever was sparking between them now, it didn’t change that.
“Are you going to show me the workshop or what?”
Marc took a deep breath and stared at her for a few moments. Thankfully, he decided against saying anything else.
Sierra stood back as Marc pulled the thick rope to raise a metal door large enough to fit an RV through it. She covered her ears, unable to take the metal on metal grinding, and watched the door roll up to the ceiling.
It was like stepping into another world—a world of metal and grease and machinery. She stared in awe, her mouth dangling open like a catfish, and wondered why she’d never been inside the shop before.
Then she remembered. Marc’s dad never let anyone inside the shop.
