Page 39 of Something Good
“Shh.” Will stepped forward, approaching me like I was a wild animal he was trying not to piss off. “It’s going to be okay.” He brushed his hand across my cheek, then took my hand in his. “She knows we’re dating. I told her earlier tonight. Just let me help you.”
“But…” I looked from Jimmy’s worried eyes to the leaky ceiling and back to Will. I thought I’d find pity in his eyes, but all I saw was warmth and a genuine desire to help. My shoulders slumped, but I realized we really didn’t have much other choice. I turned to Jimmy. “Pack your shit.”
19
SAMMY
It wasafter midnight by the time we arrived at Will’s house. His house was such a contrast to mine with its fresh blue paint, trimmed hedges, and gleaming porch light.
The door was flung open, and Olivia greeted us with warm smiles, welcoming us inside. My clothes were still damp from our earlier drenching, and I shivered as the air-conditioned air sent goosebumps skittering across my skin. “Will, why don’t you show Sammy to your bathroom and let him grab a hot shower. Jimmy, honey, come with me, and I’ll show you your room.”
She drew Jimmy away down the hall, and before I knew it, I found myself halfway up the stairs, hand in Will’s as he tugged me along. I was dead on my feet, maybe more tired than I’d ever felt in my life, so I just let him continue pulling me the rest of the way up and into the bathroom. He started the shower and pulled out towels while I leaned against the counter, too exhausted to hold myself upright unassisted.
“You should take a shower first,” I said. “Your clothes are damp too.”
He brushed a lock of hair off my forehead. I was sure my curls were an absolute disaster after being completely soakedand then left to dry haphazardly. “Just let me take care of you for once, okay?”
I thought I might drown in those blue eyes of his. I nodded once. “Okay.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead and pulled back. “I’m going to get the sleeping bag out of the car and hang it up to dry. I’ll be back to check on you, okay?”
He started to walk past me, but I grabbed his hand to stop him. “You told your mom? About us? About you?”
He smiled, turning his own question on me. “You called me ‘boyfriend’ earlier?”
I huffed out something that might resemble a chuckle. I was too tired for anything more.
“We can talk tomorrow. When you’re not about to collapse.”
I stripped and got in the shower, angling the stream so I could lean against the wall while the water washed over me. I don’t know how long I stood there, letting the hot water pummel my aching back and shoulders, but eventually, I managed to wash up using what I assumed was Will’s shampoo and body wash. I liked that my skin would smell like his now.
I dried myself off and changed into the joggers and T-shirt I’d packed before I left. It felt good to be in dry clothes again. I stepped into the hall, unsure which way to turn, when Will came walking toward me from the other direction. “I showered in my mom’s room. Jeff’s visiting his parents in Norfolk, so it’s just me and Mom this week. Come on.”
He stepped into the room across the hall from the bathroom and tugged me inside. I looked around, noticing all the little touches that indicated this was Will’s space. He’d only been here since Memorial Day and was moving to college in just a few weeks, yet there were little homey touches making it feel like he’d always been here. His little league trophies lined a shelf on one wall. There were posters of a couple of athletes,one baseball and one football. Certificates were pinned up on a bulletin board above his bed, mixed in among pictures of kids I didn’t recognize, probably from his old school. And on the end table next to his bed stood two picture frames. In one, he was in a gray suit with his mom in a white dress holding flowers on what must have been her wedding day. Both of them were smiling wide and her hand was wrapped around him, squeezing him in a way I didn’t think my mom ever had. I picked the other one up, examining it closer as my throat threatened to close up.
I looked up at Will with wet eyes. “When was this taken? I don’t remember this.” The two of us were on our bikes, each with one foot on the asphalt to keep the bike stationary. I thought I recognized the street Will had grown up on, and we were looking at the camera as if someone had called out to us and then snapped the picture.
He stepped next to me, placing his hand on the back of my neck and rubbing it absently. “Mom took it the day before I found out we were moving. It was the last day of school, and we’d had a half day, so we’d come straight home and gotten on our bikes. We were so excited for a summer of freedom to play and explore the woods. Mom took the pic, knowing we were moving. She figured I’d want a picture of my best friend.”
When I looked back on that time in our lives, my memories tended to gravitate to the day he told me he was leaving, but as I thought about it, I remembered this particular day and the feeling of endless optimism of an entire summer ahead of us. I looked at the younger version of the two of us, my fair skin and blond curls in contrast to his already-tanned complexion and dark hair. But our smiles—those matched—were big and bright and so full of excitement for what we thought would be the best summer of our lives. A summer that was stolen from us before it had even begun. I’d gotten in my first fistfight just a couple of weeks later. I’d been so full of anger and frustration that theonly good thing in my life had been taken away from me, and I’d lashed out at anyone who’d tried to get close.
“You kept this? All these years?”
He stepped closer, blue eyes intent on mine. “I never forgot you, Sammy. Never.” He took the picture from my hand, setting it back down on the side table, then cupped my cheek, rubbing at the wetness under my eyes with his thumb. “Come on. Let’s get some sleep.”
I pulled away, looking around the room. “Where am I sleeping?”
“We can share the bed.”
“I’m not sharing your bed with your mom just down the hall.” I took a few steps away from him, putting some space between us.
“It’s fine. We used to share a bed all the time when we were kids.”
I snorted. “Right. When we werekids.” I headed for the door. I’d just go sleep on the couch or something.
He grabbed my arm, stopping me. “Why are you so worried about this? I slept in your bed a few weeks ago. Why does it matter so much now?”
I turned and looked at him. “First of all, I don’t want to disrespect your mom. And second…” I paused, unsure if I was ready to go any further.
