Page 12 of Tiny Fractures

Ronan looks down, shaking his head ever so slightly. Apparently Ronan isn’t one to brag about his academic accomplishments. I find myself analyzing his features and only stop when I notice Shane grinning at me. His eyes flit from me to Ronan and back again, obviously hinting at me checking out Ronan, and I blush. I’ve always hated that my face gives me away so easily.

“Stop,” Ronan grumbles at Shane. “I have the homeschool advantage over Vada.”

He was homeschooled? Seems like we might have that in common.

“How long were you homeschooled?” I ask, and blush again. I seriously have got to get this under control.

Ronan’s face softens as he gives me a half smile. “Only about a year while we lived in Montana.”

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to go to a ranch in Montana,” I say, and Ronan’s smile widens.

“They’re not all they’re cracked up to be,” he chuckles. I raise my eyebrows at him and he continues, “My grandparents own a cattle ranch and host guests that feel like”—he makes air quotes with his index and middle fingers—“roughin’ it.”

“Do you get to visit them often?” I’ve traveled a bit with my parents and siblings, but Montana is on my wish list.

“Not as much as I’d like. I was born there, but then started moving around a bunch, mostly between New York and Montana, with really short stints in Tennessee, Virginia, and Georgia. And then about two years ago we moved back from Montana to New York again,” he recites, and it sounds exhausting.

“Are your parents in the military?”

“My dad,” he nods. “Air Force. But we never lived on base with him, so I’m not totally sure why we kept moving with him. He’s been stationed in Virginia for the last two or three years. Occasionally he’ll just make the decision to move us.” Ronan makes a face, and I can tell he’s exhausted by all this upheaval.

“Why?” I ask, truly curious.

He shrugs. “I think he believes he’s making it easier on my mother.” Ronan’s expression changes for a moment. I can’t quite decipher the emotion that just appeared in his eyes, and before I can pinpoint it, his expression has changed again.

“Sounds exhausting,” I say out loud.

He nods, his eyes unfocused as if replaying the years of instability in his mind. But then he snaps back, and his cute half smile is back. “How about you? Shane said you just moved here not too long ago.”

“Uh-huh. My mom and I moved here a couple of weeks ago from North Carolina, and Vada pretty much immediately took me under her wing.”

“Yep, like an orphaned pigeon,” Vada chimes in, laughing.

I hadn’t noticed the others walking toward us, loaded with the goods. Vada’s carrying a giant basket of what is obviously food while Steve and Zack heave heavy coolers, followed by Cheyenne carrying blankets while Drew’s arms are full of firewood for the bonfire.

Ronan moves from my side and takes the heavy basket from Vada’s hands. “Did you leave any food in the house?”

“Only the stuffed olives. Yuck,” Vada says, sticking her tongue out.

“Good call,” Ronan agrees, and easily sets the overfull basket in the soft sand.

***

Cheyenne and Summer set up the blankets around the bonfire, and Steve and Zack distribute drinks while everyone settles around the crackling fire as the sun sets. I grab some food and sit on a blanket with Vada and Tori on each side, chatting about finals in a few weeks, summer plans, and next year’s softball season. The sun finally sets completely, replacing the humid heat with a cool ocean breeze.

It’s certainly not on purpose or even voluntary, but I frequently find myself glancing at Ronan, who stands with Shane, Zack, Steve, and Drew. Drew dominates the conversation, which is clearly about hockey, and I notice three empty bottles of some alcoholic beverage in the sand next to him. Seems he gets even louder when he drinks, and I can tell Shane is getting annoyed.

Shane comes over to us, crouching next to Tori. “You guys feel like going for a quick dip in the water?”

Tori immediately jumps up. “Let’s grab some towels,” she urges Vada, who seems on the fence about the whole idea.

“Um, kinda cold, don’t you guys think?” Vada says, and Shane laughs.

“I’m sure your birthday boy would be happy to warm you right back up,” Shane says as Steve, Drew, and—my heart skips the smallest of beats—Ronan walk over to us.

“What am I happy to do?” Steve asks, and Shane shares his idea of a quick swim in the ocean.

Everyone is on board, except for Ronan, who shakes his head. “I’m gonna sit this one out,” he says, and I must admit that I’m ever so slightly disappointed I won’t get to see what he looks like under those clothes. I mentally slap myself; this is not what I need or what I should be thinking. What I need is not to feel any sort of attraction to anyone, especially someone as good-looking—god, so good-looking—as tall, as obviously athletic as Ronan. From what I know, guys like him are dangerous.

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