Page 60 of Resurrection
"Coming!" I shouted back, tossing my hairbrush on the bed and taking one last look in the mirror before heading to the living room.
For some strange reason, it mattered to me how I looked in the presence of Tyler Brady. Over the summer, he’d shot up at least five inches. Standing next to him felt different now that we were both juniors.
Though Ty still had some growing to do to reach Adri's height, it seemed like time was passing faster than I would’ve expected at sixteen. One minute, he was just a strange boy next door, and the next, he was this fantasy in my head who had my life in his hands.
"Does he have to be here every day?" my brother grumbled as I rushed down the hallway.
Mom’s reply came from the kitchen—something about Tyler being a nice boy. Adri shot a strange look in her direction first, then at me. He was in the middle of making a call and didn’t comment further.
I smiled at him with sugar on top, the way only a sixteen-year-old girl can. "Don’t be a grump," I said.
He had the phone pressed to his ear, so he ignored me. But I could tell he was pissed about Tyler coming over so much. In any case, it wasn’t my fault Ty liked spending time at our house more than his own. He had no siblings, and his parents worked a lot. It only made sense he’d come hang out here. Right?
The only thing I didn’t get was Adri acting like some Brazilian soap opera.
They used to be inseparable, but then it came to an end, and neither ever explained the reason.
"Hey!" I called at Ty through the screen door. He was on the front porch, shuffling his feet. "You wanna come in?"
Adri was talking to someone regarding some fryer repairs at the food truck. He lowered his voice and turned away, pretending he hadn’t seen Ty entering the house.
Then, just like that, he ended the call with a grunt and was gone. He’d probably sulk in his room like a vampire until the coast was clear. He always did that when Ty dropped by.
"Adri’s in a mood, in case you couldn’t tell," I told him as he kicked off his footwear. He’d traded his Converse for a pair of all-black Timberland leather boots. I had no idea how he wasn’t hot in them half the time, but his footwear and height weren’t the only thing that’d changed over the summer. He’d changed. His hair had grown longer and now touched his shoulders, and he’d gotten a piercing in one ear. A black stud. He wasn’t the sunshine anymore. He looked like a boy in a band, attitude and all.
"When isn’t he in a mood?" Ty replied like Adri’s state of mind didn’t matter to him. He gave me that crooked smile that made my insides melt.
"I know, right?"
There was a moment of silence, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated. "So, anyway," Ty started eventually. "I was going to ask you something."
My pulse sped up. I had no idea what it could possibly be. "Sure."
"Wanna help me with the merch booth next week?" He paused. "We got a gig in Palm Springs."
"Another show?" I said, feigning surprise. "That’s—what—the hundredth one this year?"
He grinned. "I wish. But still, I won’t complain. No one wants to hear some high school band unless they deliver exceptional covers."
"That’s how all big bands start out," I supplied with a shrug.
"Ty?" Mom called from the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"
"I could eat, Mrs. Medina," he replied. Often, he’d say that just to make Mom happy, even if he’d had food at home. But that was Tyler Brady.
"Then come on up! I’m making some ceviche."
We moved to the kitchen, where Mom was in the middle of mixing the dish in a huge bowl. Tyler washed his hands and we both settled in at the table.
"Can I go with Tyler’s band to Palm Springs to help with the merch next week?" I asked matter-of-factly.
"Are your parents coming, Tyler?" Mom asked him without pausing her stirring.
"Yes. Dad’s driving us."
"Hmmm."
"Mom, please," I whined.
