Page 134 of Headstrong Like Us
“Pretty sure I ran faster,” I say confidently, wading in the cool ocean. “You might need a hip replacement after how badly I smoked yo—”
He splashes water at my face.
I flip him off with two hands, and he laughs.
I sink lower. Until the surface of the saltwater skims my lips. Farrow is drawn towards me as much as I’m pulled towards him. His eyes caress my eyes, and I wrap a strong arm around his tattooed shoulders under the water.
“Hold your breath,” he whispers.
And then we go down together. I snapshot every cinematic beat, even as we come up for air.
28
MAXIMOFF HALE
3 weeks until the wedding
“Where areMaximoff Hale and his tattooed dreamboat getting married? Little birdies around Center City have been chirping, and rumor is, the wedding is comingsoon.Less than a month away, and if you’re in Greece in July, get your binoculars and cameras out. We’ve heard the ceremony and reception is being held in Mykonos. No word on their honeymoon yet, but thebiggerquestion is whether Maximoff is becoming a Keene, or is Farrow becoming a Hale? Or maybe they’ll hyphenate their names—but in which order: Keene-Hale or Hale-Keene? Mull this mystery over while you listen to a hit from Farrow Keene’s favorite band,Third Eye Blind.This is 97.2, the Fix—”
I slam a palm on the digital clock in my childhood bedroom, the radio shutting off. I don’t remember setting the alarm to a radio-wakeup call—especially not for 10:30 a.m.—but it’s old and clearly possessed.
My neck is hot, but I resume packing baby stuff into a cardboard box. Ripley rattles a toy on a yellow play mat while Farrow empties the dresser, folding clothes into suitcases. I’m doing my best not to acknowledge the fucking radio station that just unearthed rumors and the name thing.
The name thing.
Alright, we haven’t really brought it up after the last time. Where I literally self-combusted as soon as he said so casually, so easily, “You want to be a Keene?”
That’s it.
That’s as far as we got. I just kept nodding, and then I said, “Raincheck?” I’m not scared of the conversation, I promise.
It’s just overwhelming. Like my heart is exploding inside my chest and shattering my ribcage, and I haven’t been in the mood to give Farrow that kind of satisfaction.
Across the bedroom, a smile edges along Farrow’s mouth. “You have something to say, wolf scout?”
“No.” My voice is stubbornly firm, and I feel his eye-roll from a mile away. I tape up the box and tickle Ripley’s soft belly. He giggles, and I smile. “You ready to see your new place, Rip?”
He rattles his toy at me and babbles.
We’re moving out of my parent’s house tomorrow. It’s a big deal, even bigger change, but at least we all finally came to a consensus.
We’re staying in Philadelphia.
Charlie called me after the bachelor party and said, “Don’t move to New York.” He didn’t say why he had a change of heart, but Farrow told me about their whole conversation in Key West.
I think maybe Charlie needed to feel needed, and I’m proud of him for sticking around for his brothers.
I stand up. “I’m going to get tools to take apart the crib.”
Farrow nods, and I leave the bedroom.
Stopping at Luna’s ajar door down the hall, I knock on the wooden frame. “You need any help packing?”
Still in pajamas, Luna lifts her head up from a mountain of clothes. “Nopity. I got it covered.”
On my way to the garage, I’m plagued by the pestering thought:I need to tell my family…I drank alcohol.You have no clue how hard this is for me.
I really don’t want to meet faces of pity, feeling sorry for me that I accidentally sipped alcohol, or disappointment, or ridicule, thinking I should’ve distinguished the taste (how could I not, right?)
