Page 30 of Resurrection
"It’s not me you need to be sorry to," Naomi replies, rising to her feet. "It’s the kids and their parents."
"You want me to apologize in front of them? Right now?" I glance up at her, lifting my palm in the air to block the afternoon sun.
"I have a better idea," she says, mischief in her eyes. "There’s a high school talent show in a few weeks."
Uh-oh. I don’t like the sound of that.
I raise an eyebrow. "Thrilling."
"I’m one of the volunteers overseeing rehearsals," she tells me. "If you’re looking to apologize, you should come. Help out. Actions always speak louder than words."
There’s a challenge in her voice, and I don’t miss it. It’s like she’s daring me.
I let out a breath, then say, "I’d be happy to." And this time, I know I mean it. Even if the idea of exposing myself to this little town is daunting.
But the idea of being around Naomi Medina is terrifying in the best way possible.
10NAOMI [THE PAST]
I didn’t knowhow I didn’t see him right away.
He was impossible to miss, like the sunlight.
But that summer, I was so wrapped up in helping Dad, going to camp, and volunteering with Brittney that I barely noticed the house next door had sprouted a new family.
I overheard my parents one evening talking about them. The Bradys. I even saw Adri heading over there a few times, probably because of their kid. Mom and Dad were happy my brother had made a new friend. Naturally, I assumed he was Adri’s age and probably wouldn’t care about his buddy’s little sister.
So, I really didn’t think about it much until one August afternoon right before the beginning of the new school year when Brittney's parents dropped me off at home after a trip to the mall.
Stepping inside the house with my shopping bags in both hands, I found the living room turned upside down—comic books everywhere, bowls of half-eaten chips scattered like forgotten homework, and a line of empty Coke cans on the coffee table.
Adri and some shaggy-haired guy were glued to the TV, their fingers flying over controllers, shooting away.
"Nice move, asshole!" my brother yelled, and I froze at the doorway, a little floored by the scene. I could see the new kid up close for the first time.
"Gotcha!" the boy shot back with a triumphant grin. His hair fell into his eyes, messy but somehow cool.
"You wish." Adri laughed. "That's what you get for camping!"
The boy—I figured he was the neighbors’ son—looked my age. I wonderedwhy someone like Adri, a year away from graduating, was hanging out with him. They seemed like best friends, lost in the game and each other’s company.
"This round's mine!" the boy called out, and then the screen flashed. I could tell he was winning.
I watched them, quietly soaking in the sight of Adri actually having fun. My brother was a grump, and seeing him like this made me feel strange. I figured that’s what it meant to be a family—to be happy for your sibling even if you hated him so much for all the pranks he’d pulled on you. The playful back and forth between him and the boy was kind of nice. Weird but nice.
The match finally ended. "Hey," I said, trying not to sound too interested. "You better clean up this mess after you’re done goofing around."
Adri turned toward me, a bit of sweat plastering his long hair to his neck. "Hey, Shrimp," he said, catching his breath. "Didn't hear you come in."
I died a little on the inside at the stupid nickname, especially in front of the new boy. But I chose to act cool and not reveal the fact that the nickname pissed me off.
Adri nodded toward his new friend, who was looking at me with eyes so blue, they almost seemed unreal. "This is Ty." He said nothing else.
"Hey. What’s up?" Ty said, his voice almost shy.
I shrugged like it was no big deal. "Hey."
Then I headed off to my room, pretending I didn’t notice how cute he was. He had that weird bad-boy aura about him. The ocean gaze and the messy hair the color of the desert. He wore some band T-shirt and a pair of baggy ripped jeans and looked so cool.
