Family Ties - Debi V. Smith Page 0,89

didn’t know who to go to.”

I giggle at the memory. It wasn’t so funny then, but it is now. He laces his fingers with mine and brings my hand to his lips.

I try to remove the shirt when the gear groans into park.

He seizes my wrist. “Not yet.”

I let out an exaggerated exhale, because I know he’s enjoying it. He opens my door and helps me out of the car.

“Now?” I ask.

“Nope.” He takes my hands and wraps them around his neck. “Hold on.”

I clasp my hands together and place them on the blanket over his shoulder. He picks me up and carries me like he did when we left his house..

“I’m beginning to think you enjoy carrying me,” I quip.

“Only when it involves fun and surprises,” he teases back. “I wasn’t fond of the first time I carried you,” he says, the lightness and laughter from his voice is gone.

He sets me on soft and uneven ground. The blanket snaps next to me when he shakes it out. He guides me onto the blanket and down, lying with my neck resting on his arm. He takes the shirt off and thousands of stars twinkle above us.

I marvel at the sight, speaking in a breathy exhale, “J.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s amazing. Where are we?”

“Cardiff Beach. I figured Simon and Tibby never took you where you could really enjoy the stars.”

“You figured right.”

He caresses my jaw with his free hand. “You made this the best birthday, Parker. Thank you.” His lips skim mine as his fingers play in my hair. I cup his face and open my mouth to him. He brings me closer with his hand at the small of my back.

The world spins out from underneath me and my heart won’t stop its relentless pounding as the fire burns hotter, searing me back to reality.

Simon’s face flashes in my head.

“Stop,” I murmur, taking a deep breath and shaking my head as if a simple shake will loosen Simon’s hold.

He props himself up on his arm, looking down at me. “Parker, I wasn’t trying to—“

I push myself up and place my finger on his lips, then entwine my fingers with his. “I know you weren’t. I saw Simon’s face just now.”

Once again, I feel like it’s unreasonable for him to wait. That I’m undeserving of his deep reservoir of patience because I’m damaged goods.

“Sara Allison Jericho, I put it in writing for you, I would wait forever for you. I mean it. I waited until Simon and Tibby let you date. I waited for you when you were taken from us. I can wait until you’re ready. If I couldn’t, I’d be a shitty excuse for a boyfriend.”

My boyfriend, who understands our lives are transitory, believes each day should be cherished. Most boys in his situation would probably sleep around and party. Jason finds something worth holding on to and doesn’t let go.

I’m that something worth holding on to.

“I’d love to see more of the stars.” I snuggle in the crook of his arm as we admire the heavens glimmering at us, like a gazillion tiny Swarovski crystals were thrown into the sky.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Senior Year

I feel eyes on me. Watching. Scrutinizing. Judging. Everyone knows. Not just what the media reported, but what Becky told everyone. Gossip spreads like wildfire. There’s no containing it. You have to let it do its damage and burn out.

I lower my eyes and quicken my pace. Jason squeezes my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Arissa surveying the student parking lot.

She stops and sets her hands on her hips. “Do you see something interesting?” she asks loud, her face etched with hard lines. “Is your life so wonderful that you have to stare at my sister? How would you like to be in her shoes?” She makes eye contact with everyone and they look away, uncomfortable with her directness. “That’s what I thought.”

We’re on our way to class again when Jason asks, “What got into you, Jericho?”

“I don’t like it. It’s not right. Sara’s done enough fighting.”

I hug her from the side with my free arm. “Thanks, Riss.”

“That’s what sisters are for,” she says, draping her arm over my shoulders.

I take out my lunch on the grass in the quad as Jason, Arissa, and Damian meander over to join me. Jason sits next to me and pecks my cheek.

“Hi,” I say, smiling. “How were your classes?”

“Boring without you.”

“I can’t believe we don’t have any classes together this year.”

“Me, neither,” Arissa says, pouting.

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