Meet Me at Midnight - Jessica Pennington Page 0,15
coming to life.
DAY 5
Sidney
My dad has this thing for vacation jerky. We call it that, because literally the only time Dad wants to eat jerky is when we’re at the lake. Some vacationers gorge themselves on tropical drinks with little umbrellas, or all-you-can-eat buffets. My dad stuffs himself with teriyaki beef sticks until it starts to feel like his summertime cologne, and everyone in a two-house radius judges.
In his defense, they are pretty tasty. They sell them at the big store in town, and Dad doesn’t like to put them on Mom’s shopping list (because the judgment starts in our house) so he usually sends me. Here’s twenty bucks, run to the store and get yourself something fun. Maybe grab something for me while you’re there? As if I’m going to find anything fun at the grocery store. Dad thinks he’s being slick, but Mom always snags me before I leave and gives me her own list of things she needs.
I’m just about to pull out of the driveway when Asher comes dashing toward the car. He pulls at the handle just as I slip the car into drive, but I don’t unlock it. I swear I still feel a phantom tingle where his hand was on my leg, and it makes me want to floor it. He cocks his head to the side and palms a piece of paper against the window. Two taps on the glass, and I roll it down. “I have to grab some stuff for my mom.”
“Ugh.” I let out a disgruntled sigh, because while I can say no to Asher all day, Sylvie is a different story. “Fine.” It’s not the car’s fault, but I press the button to unlock the door more aggressively than is necessary anyway. Asher climbs into the passenger side and immediately skips to the next song on my playlist. “You have a car, you know.”
“My mom sent me over to see if your mom needed anything. And your mom insisted we didn’t need to drive two cars. She practically shoved me out the door so I wouldn’t miss you.”
I can already feel it—Mom’s current obsession with her carbon footprint is going to be the death of my sanity this summer. I turn out of the driveway, and we’re halfway to the store before either of us breaks the silence.
“Jerky run?” Asher asks, sounding almost sympathetic.
“You know it.”
* * *
We park the car and silently head into the store, both of us turning toward the deli. Asher grabs my list, and I’m trying to get it back from him, my hands reaching around and behind him, when I hear my name.
“Sidney?” It comes from behind me, an aisle or so down. Standing next to a display of marshmallows, his red River Depot shirt now swapped for a soft gray T-shirt, is the dreamy ice cream guy. Right here in my grocery store.
I grab the list from Asher, who is momentarily stunned motionless, and compose myself, straightening a little. “Hey, Caleb.”
He closes the gap between us and sticks his hand out to Asher. I take a deep breath and let it out loudly. “This is Asher.” I introduce them as they shake hands next to the little case of jerky sticks that got me here. I grab a pack and put them in my basket.
“Your…” His eyes swing from Asher to me. “… brother?”
Asher and I say no at the same time. He sounds absolutely disgusted by the prospect of having to be related to me.
“Our families vacation together,” I say, realizing too late that it sounds sort of weird. “Our moms were college roommates, and we come up here every year. We have houses next to each other over at Five Pines.” I point to the doors like an idiot, as if the houses are right outside. “Almost identical houses, actually. It’s a—”
Asher puts his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t think he needs our family histories.” I shrug his hand away, but at least he shut me up.
“I actually have to go find some apples,” I say, taking a step away, toward Caleb.
He smiles. “What a coincidence. I love apples.” I head toward the far corner of the store and he falls into step beside me. I don’t look at Asher, but I hear his footsteps behind us, getting softer, not louder, thankfully.
“I bet there’s a name for this,” I say, when we’ve rounded the aisles that separate the fresh food from everything else.