Page 11 of Cross My Heart

“Ty doesn’t like boys,” Noah says, and my stomach drops.

“But you do.” Scar points out, which feels accusatory.

“It takes two to tango, Scar,” Noah replies, then watches me intently.

I watch him back, pleading with my eyes for him to not make me go there. To give me some more time to figure this out so I don’t lose them both. For him to teach me to decipher what it was that we just shared.

But he looks away, focusing his eyes back on Scarlett. Her eyes are trained on the ceiling, a frown on her pretty face. Her cute little upturned nose is wrinkled, and it’s her telltale sign that she’s annoyed. So I do the only sensible thing and squeeze her hand in reassurance. Her eyes slide over to my face, and she gives me a tentative smile. So I smile back. But in the back of my mind, I keep seeing Noah’s face when he first opened his eyes.

I clear my throat.

“Why don’t we go to the tree house?” I ask them, wanting to get out of this room. It feels like I’m suffocating in here. “We can get popsicles and drink some of the booze from the stash.”

“Your mom will kill us if we don’t have breakfast,” Noah points out, and he’s not entirely wrong. “I’m in.” He grins.

“Yeah,” Scarlett chimes in. “Let’s do it.”

“First one to get there gets the first drink of the booze,” Noah whispers, getting up from the bed and running out of the room.

“Oh, man.” Scarlett pouts. “That shit tastes nasty anyway.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” I tell her with a grin, but hold out my hand for her anyway. “Just don’t throw up.”

“I haven’t had breakfast!”

“Pussy,” I whisper, letting go of her hand and running down the stairs.

“Not fair!” she yells after me.

I have a head start, but Noah is already out the back sliding door either way, so he gets the first taste. I pass the living room, and when I make it to the kitchen, my mom is making french toast. It smells delicious, but we have more important matters to tend to.

Opening the freezer, I grab three popsicles and cut them open with the kitchen scissors. But before I can run out to the backyard, my mom stops me in my tracks.

“Where are you going?” My mom narrows her eyes at me. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Tree house,” is all I say before I run out the back door.

“Tyler Levi!” Mom yells after me, and I can just imagine steam coming out of her ears.

I run over to the tree house, climbing the ladder quickly. Noah is already settled in on the blankets, legs crossed and back against the wooden wall. I roll my eyes when I see him playing a game on the PSP. Even still, I climb up and settle in beside him.

The tree house is spacious, but it barely accommodates three sixteen-year-olds. I look around at the fairy lights hanging from the ceiling and smirk at the sign on the wall opposite to where I’m sitting.

No gurlz allowed.

And yet in comes Scarlett, huffing and puffing, all out of breath. “You bitches suck.” She groans, climbing up and into the tree house. She settles in right next to the sign, stretching her legs until they’re draped over my lap. I hand over the pink popsicle, her favorite, and she grins. “Awwww, look at you, Ty. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like me.” She winks.

My cheeks heat, and Noah and I make eye contact. “Shut up,” I tell her, shoving her leg.

“Where’s mine?” Noah asks, clearly annoyed, and I hand over the grape. “Hey, why doyouget the blue one? That one’s my favorite.”

“Ha!” Scarlett yells triumphantly. “Told ya he likes me better.”

“Why are y’all both so fucking annoying?” I roll my eyes. “Worse than toddlers, I tell you.”

Noah puts down the gaming console and makes a show of biting into the popsicle. “So, who’s excited about junior year starting on Monday?”

I groan. “Not me.”

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