Page 33 of Tulips and Lost Time

“Yeah…” I turn from the garage, my destination because I came here searching for my notebook, and instead point my body toward her. But I’ll be damned if I take a step closer. I don’t even lift my eyes beyond her knees. “It’s getting dark, Bear. You should probably head inside or something.”

“Or…” She kicks her board and flips it up. Most of us catch it after that. Too lazy to bend and collect it, we send it spiraling into the air and grab on with our fingers. But Kari was never skilled in this department. So instead, the board smacks her shin and elicits a stunned gasp from deep inside her chest. But she covers her reaction fast, swallowing down her squeak of pain and giggling, when I’m certain, the alternative would be to whimper.

The board rolls away and discreetly—but really, it’s impossible to do so—she rubs her leg with her left hand.

“I’m staying out for a little while longer.” She hobbles forward a step. “You should join me.”

Yeah? Well I think that’s a really bad fucking idea.

Because she’s not a kid anymore. She’s spent months manufacturing moments just like this one, where Marcus isn’t around, and my sisters are off causing trouble somewhere else.

My willpower is crumbling faster than a sandcastle during high tide.

“I wanted to talk to you about some stuff anyway.” Another hobbling step. “I’ve had some things on my mind. And I definitely can’t talk to my brother about them.”

“Maybe you could ask Britt, then. Or maybe Alex. He’d be great at whatever sensitive issue you want to discuss.”

She chokes out a laugh. Her knowledge of Alex’s subtlety, giving me away like a spotlight in the dark. Then she steps off the halfpipe, but lowers to sit on the edge. And still, she angles her head as though to force herself into my peripherals. “Luca?” Gently, she pats the wooden structure beside her thigh. “Please sit with me.”

“Actually… I’d rather stand over here.” I dig my hands into my pockets, fussing with the lint buried deep inside. Finding a guitar pick. A piece of string. An old pencil, used, sharpened, and used again until only an inch remains. “I’m good where I am.”

“You used to hang out with me more.” She rests her arms on her heightened knees, then her chin on her arms. “You used to walk me home a lot. Take me to Popcorn Palace. You’d even spend time with me out here in the yard, even when Marcus wasn’t around.”

Yeah. Back when you were a kid.

Now you’re eighteen, and fuck, but that’s messing with me.

“I’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been working.” Fuck, but I want to look up and meet her beautiful eyes. “I’ve got this new partner on the rig, and he can be kinda prickly sometimes. He’s a bit like Marcus,” I scoff. “Super protective big brothers whose tempers trigger kinda fast.”

“So you have tons of experience handling him.” She rubs the spot beside her leg again. “Sit with me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Is it because you want me, too?”

Instantly, my head jerks up against my wishes, and my eyes lock on to hers. “What?”

“I mean…” She hugs her legs and smirks. “I spend time with Scotch. And Ang. And of course, Marcus, too. I hang out with Alex. And Oz. I have all these guys in my life, brothers I never really asked for.” Her cheeks warm. “And I’m not as pretty as Jess and Laine and Britt. Sammy might be the most beautiful person I ever met. And Meg, too. So much confidence oozing from her pores.”

“You’re comparing yourself to your friends?” Scowling, I take another step forward. I swear I don’t instruct my feet to move. I don’t even recognize the moment my brain allows the action. But if she’s comparing, then she’s hurting herself. And hell, but I’ve lived a life where my role was to keep her safe.

For Marcus. For her own good.

For my own selfish needs.

“You can’t compare yourself to them, Bear. They’re people. You’re a different person.”

“Laine is so confident,” she sighs. “And Jess is just a single step behind her. They rule the school, Luca. It’s not like it was when you were there. It’s not even a jock’s school anymore. It’s Jess and Laine’s. They run the place, and it’s gonna get worse now that they’re about to start their senior year.”

“Jess and Laine are pretty, tall, blonde chicks. They’re literally what basic white dudes like to look at. Doesn’t make you any less…” Beautiful.

But shit, I can’t finish my sentence without giving too much away.

“Comparison is the thief of joy… or something like that,” I mumble. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

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