Текст книги "Finding Me "

Автор книги: Mariah Dietz

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

I swallow back words that want to be heard. Kitty has done this to me. She has opened the floodgates of my feelings and the need to express them. “We have an order for pickup. It should be under Abby.” Melissa is still staring at me with a calculating expression.

Her eyes blink in quick succession several times and then she smiles and pushes away from the counter. “Let me see if it’s ready.”

The hot pizzas taint the air, masking Max’s scent that I’ve worked so hard to find when the truck still smells so new.

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t eat pizza again.”

My head turns toward Max. I have avoided looking at him since we arrived at Antonio’s with success. His eyes are gentle. It’s obvious that he senses my unease.

“We should probably pick something up that’s fast, but we could get tacos, or a burger. What sounds good to you?”

“Can we go to In-N-Out?”

Max smiles at my quick response and does a single nod. “Absolutely.”

The ride to the fast food restaurant is silent but for the radio and the rumbles of the road. I still can’t shake my embarrassment, and I’m not quite sure why I’m this uncomfortable. It’s not as though I’ve said or done anything that warrants this nervousness.

“Why don’t you call Kendall and see if she and J want something, too?” There are several cars in front of us, but he still pulls to the side of the drive-thru as if he’s not in a rush.

“That’s a good idea.”

Max has to pull out his phone to take notes because Jameson and Kendall both want to order, but so does Abby. He holds it out to me so I can read it back to them. His arm is so close to me, I can smell his body wash and that mingling spicy scent that is Max. The knowledge of both the heat and weight of his arm are instant thoughts. If this was a year ago, I’d lean forward and make contact with his bare skin, even if it was just against my own arm. My eyes dance between the screen of his phone and his toned forearm. The short dark hairs would tickle my cheek at the touch. The brachioradialis muscle that lines the top of his forearm, would enlarge when it was wrapped around my waist with protection and a sense of belonging.

His arm drops to his side with a quiet chuckle that has me straightening in my seat and shoving thoughts away like they’re detectable. Still, I wish that I had gone over their order slower, bought more time.

We join the line of cars and Max’s fingers drum across the steering wheel to the beat of the music. I wonder if he realizes how many times we listened to this song together. If I was to make a soundtrack of us, it would be one of the first to play.

“What did you mean when you said you punched Lee Carroll for me?” I seriously need to separate myself from Max for the rest of my trip here. I can’t believe that question just popped out of my mouth. I hadn’t even considered it. It just came out.

Max’s fingers stop their pattern and he looks at me for a second before turning his attention to the car in front of us, and gently easing forward. “It wasn’t because of you. I shouldn’t have said that. I mean, it was because of what he said about you, but not because you needed me to, or wanted me to, or whatever …” His eyes flicker between the windshield and me with apprehension. “I shouldn’t have said that. At the bachelorette party, I shouldn’t have said any of that. I wanted to apologize for it but,” Max swallows, and turns to look at me again, “I was kind of hoping you forgot about that night. I would like to.”

“I don’t remember all of it. Things are coming back to me, but my sisters have filled in some of the blank spots.”

“Shit,” Max sighs the word. “Are they all pissed off?”

“No.” His head turns as I deliver the quick reply. “None of them are upset with you.”

His eyebrows rise with surprise, showing me he genuinely cares. “What did Lee say about me? I haven’t seen him since high school.”

Max huffs out a quiet laugh. It’s sardonic, and I have trouble trying to understand it. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“You can’t say you punched someone for me, and not say why.”

His mouth parts and then closes before he turns to look at me. He’s searching for something and I wish I knew what so I knew how to respond. Instead, I sit perfectly still, my eyes met with his. Waiting.

“It was before you got to high school, actually.”

My eyebrows scrunch with confusion. “Before high school? I didn’t know Lee Carroll before high school.”

Max’s eyes widen and his attention moves forward again. “Yeah, well he knew you.” His hand scratches his chin, and his nails which are rounded and cut so low, there isn’t any white at the tips, catch on the short bristles covering his jaw from not shaving this morning. “He made an inappropriate comment about you and Kendall.”

My head shakes. I was never great friends with Lee, but we hung out. I can’t believe he said something about Kendall and me. I can’t believe no one ever said anything. My eyes move to Max, and thoughts of high school return. A blur of lunchtime discussions, rushing to class and trying to see friends, passing notes, and watching Max. “Lee Carroll hated you because of me?”

“Lee Carroll hated me because he didn’t know how to throw a punch.”

“How did I never know this?”

Max shrugs and turns to look at me again, the sun catching on his cheek, deepens his tan. “There was nothing to know.”

He’s wrong.

“My turn, what in the hell did Amy Hall say?”

My eyes widen with confusion as I try to stop the thoughts about how long Max has cared in some way for me and my family, to focus on what he’s asking. “What?”

“That night, you said Amy Hall was right.”

“I don’t remember…”

“Yes you do,” Max insists. His eyes have turned bright with recognition. “You’re fidgeting, and you crossed your legs.” My eyes widen and I look down to see my legs are indeed crossed. “You fidget whenever you’re nervous, but you cross your legs—or arms if you’re standing—when you want to avoid something.”

“Kendall tucks her hair.” I think this is my attempt to deflect.

“What?”

“When she’s trying to avoid something, or isn’t being honest, she tucks her hair behind an ear.”

“What did she say, Ace?”

My jaw stretches to the side and I look past Max, out his windshield. “That I wasn’t your type.”

The cab is silent for a long moment. “Amy Hall doesn’t know her ass from her elbow.” I turn back to look at him, and Max’s blue eyes focus on me, embedding a truth I want to believe so badly, it makes me feel lightheaded. A car behind us honks, alerting us we need to move forward. Max doesn’t move but his eyes shift over my face so slowly I hardly notice the movement. Then he clutches his jaw. With this single movement, I know he’s now the one wishing to avoid things.

His eyes return to mine, and his mouth relaxes. “Amy Hall doesn’t know anything about me or who I am. Some days I wonder if anyone does other than you.” His mouth closes and I see the strain in his jaw as it constricts as tight as my heart.

His window slides down and we move to the window to place our order.

“Life is short, live it. Love is rare, grab it. Anger is bad, dump it. Fear is awful, face it. Memories are sweet, cherish it.”

–Unknown

We're filled with greasy fast food and covered with streaks of pink paint, as we stand back and admire our work.

“Can we take the tape off yet?” Abby yells from down the hall.

“No,” Jameson calls back. He uses the back of a Philips head screwdriver to pound the lid back on the paint can.

“What should we do tonight?” Kendall asks, setting her brush down, and inspecting her black nails that are now covered in pink.

She looks up when no one responds. I shrug when her eyes meet mine, and move to roll up the paper towels that fell from the ladder.

French fries ricochet off my shoulder and fall to the ground, leaving a sprinkling of salt on my skin. My head snaps to Kendall as she pulls a few more fries from the bag and chucks them at me. “Bullseye!” she yells with victory as they hit the yellow shoe on my chest. I know she’s out of fries and because of this, I laugh.

“Unlike you two, we have to be up early tomorrow.” My attention shifts back to Jameson as he inspects a corner. “Why don’t we just hang at the house? It’s already after five.”

“Old man,” Kendall taunts.

The four of us sit together at the kitchen table for several hours playing card games, something we haven’t done since Max and I first started dating. The time goes by easy and is filled with laughter and jokes that are both new and old. Landon gets home late and joins us for a short while, sharing brief details of his day. Before he goes to bed, his hand rests on my shoulder and then contracts. It’s little moments like this that make me miss California so much.

Shortly after he retreats to his room, Kendall and Jameson follow suit. I expect Max to do the same, but he follows me to the couch and flips on the TV. A nervous energy runs between us for at least thirty minutes before we’re able to relax and laugh at the show.

When the next episode ends, Max reaches for the remote and turns off the TV. He turns to me and rubs a hand through his hair. “What happened that night? At that party with Nathan Hudson.”

My heart beats painfully in my chest. “I don’t really know. I was telling you the truth when I said I drank way too much and couldn’t remember many details.” I twist the tassels on the throw blanket around my fingers. “Jessica found me in a bathroom with four guys. I guess they were undressing me.” I pause, hearing Max’s breath catch in his throat. “Nothing happened.” I shake my head but can’t look at him. “Doctors confirmed nothing happened. I mean … you know, well … you, yeah … I was still…”

“Just because someone stopped them, that doesn’t make their intentions nothing.” Max’s words aren’t angry or harsh like I expect them to be with his rigid posture and fisted hands.

“I know.”

“That’s why you stopped drinking.”

I nod slowly, and then glance up at him. “I know it wasn’t my fault, but at the same time, I can’t get past the fact that I didn’t even know what was happening to me. That I couldn’t have even made an attempt to stop it.” My tongue sweeps across my dry lips. “I always thought Nate was one of them because Jess saw him in there before she found Pedro, but he wasn’t. He helped Pedro stop them.”

“Pedro didn’t seem to think he was on that side of the line.”

“That’s who told you?”

Max’s lips purse. His eyes are trained on something across the room as he nods. “Hudson and Pedro were in a fight over something, and I was holding Rodriguez back.” He glances over at me, feeling my puzzled stare and swallows. His jaw flexes again and his eyes revert back across the room. “He thought I knew. He thought I was protecting Nathan because I was mad at you for leaving.”

I wish I knew what exactly Pedro told him but I don’t dare ask. I can see the pain and discomfort Max is experiencing from telling me this much. My hand settles on the same point of his wrist I had stared at today in the truck. The contact makes his eyes return to me. “Nate’s been a jerk to a lot of friends. He lost my respect after dumping Kendall the night after they slept together, but, I believe him. Girls threw themselves at Nate, and I know that doesn’t make a person innocent, but,” his muscles flex under my hand, “he broke one of the guys’ arm.”

“You aren’t going to tell me who, are you?”

My head shakes and my grip tightens. “Jess was only positive of Nate, and Pedro only remembers one other, he was drunk too. We all were. I don’t want you to feel like you need to fix this. I didn’t tell anyone because I was ashamed. Now, I’ve called and spoken with a lawyer. I know that with the circumstances and outcome, there isn’t a lot that can happen.” I shrug. “I hate the idea that me staying quiet may have led one or more of them to thinking that what they did was okay. That they could do that, or worse to someone else. But, there’s nothing documented from the hospital, there was no sex crime, there is no evidence, just several-year-old eye witness accounts from drunk kids.”

Max releases a deep breath and his legs extend, crossing at the ankle. His entire body is tense. “Did I make you feel ashamed to tell me?”

My fingers slide down to his hand and my fingers wrap around his palm. The movement is so fast and natural I don’t have time to consider it. “No,” I assure him, shaking my head again. “Not at all.” My eyes fall to my lap. “I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was embarrassed and just wanted to pretend it never happened.” My eyes travel back to his. “I never told anyone until recently when Kendall called about it.”

Max’s eyes narrow slightly with confusion. “She said you didn’t tell her.” His hand becomes slack in mine and I tighten my grip further.

“I didn’t. I told a friend. She’s been … helping me.”

“You should never have felt embarrassed. I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel comfortable enough.”

“It had nothing to do with you.” My eyes feel the familiar itch from tears. “You know more about me than anyone. More than I know about myself. It was never that I was uncomfortable with you, I was uncomfortable with me.”

Max’s eyes hold mine and I see the disbelief rise and fall as I try to encourage him with only my stare. His breaths become more labored, his chest rising and falling more noticeably. I think I’m leaning forward, or maybe I have been all along. His lips part slightly and his eyes dance over my face, much faster this time. I recognize this look. I know what his heavy breaths mean and why his hand is clutching mine even tighter.

It fills me with assurance and comfort. It terrifies me because I want it so badly. It rattles me because I know I should stop. I should push these thoughts away and avoid Max because this is all going to make returning home that much harder, that much more painful.

“Ace…” My name is a whisper on his lips.

My heart thrums as I lean a little closer.

A loud knock on the front door stops us both. We remain seated, still facing each other too closely. We’re both reluctant to have this moment end though I think we’re both surprised we’ve arrived here.

Another quick succession of knocks hits the door followed by nearly inaudible words that cause a coldness to seep through me followed quickly by regret. It’s Erin. I sit back and move my attention to the TV that’s still off.

“Don’t do this. Don’t pull away.”

I want to ask him how that would even be possible when she’s here, but Landon’s emerging from the hallway, his hair tousled and his jeans undone.

“Want me to get it?” I know what Landon’s offering: to tell her to leave, or that Max isn’t home.

My eyes cut to Landon with accusation, and his eyes close. He takes two long steps to the door and stops. His shoulders drop and he turns to look back at us.

“Hang on.” Max turns to face me and we stare at each other. Loss, pain, lust, hope, and fear all resonate in his eyes and I hate myself a little for being happy to see that I put them there. The door rattles as something much harder hits it, and Zeus stands from where he’s resting, watching everything play out from the safety of the area rug, and trudges over to the door with a few deep barks.

I stand up and clap my hands together a couple of times to catch Zeus’s attention and head down the hall to Jameson and Kendall’s room. Their door is open. I know without asking that it’s an invitation so I step inside and close it behind Zeus.

“What do you want to do before we meet everyone at the nail salon? We could go to the cemetery.”

My head shakes instantly in reply. “Can we go get some ice cream?”

“Ice cream?”

“Yeah, at Maggie Lou’s.”

Kendall nods, but I can see her reluctance. A tense and unspoken discomfort settles around us making the air feel confining. All morning we’ve avoided talking about yesterday. I saw the surprise on Kendall’s face when we went to the kitchen for breakfast and found Erin sitting along at the table. She faced us with a vengeful expression. It had instantly prompted me to wish that she had more of a reason to give me that look. Instead, we dutifully ignored her and the discomfort surrounding us as we ate our cereal.

I pull open the door to Maggie Lou’s and take a deep breath of the waffle cone aroma. It’s soothing to see that nothing has changed. Time, death, nor I, have affected Maggie Lou’s. Everything is the same.

“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.”

–Confucius

I take notice once again of how blue the sky is before I head inside with Zeus on my heels. I’ve spent the morning in the backyard trying to make sense of too many things, only to come up with the conclusion that I need to stop avoiding Kendall and spend as much time as I can with her when my time here is quickly coming to an end. My sisters once again brought up visiting the cemetery last night at dinner after our nails had all been painted the same shade of pale pink. The topic made me withdraw. The invitations that quickly turned into obligations made me shut down. I forcibly sat through another awkward family dinner with my sisters and was beyond grateful for it being a weeknight so they all retired early.

I slept in Kendall and Jameson’s room again last night. Even though they say they don’t mind, I hate that I’m imposing on them. I hated the idea of seeing Max again more, so I ate the guilt and laid on the very edge of the mattress where I slept in broken stints.

The kitchen tile is cold beneath my bare feet as I fill a glass with water to buy a few extra seconds alone.

“Hey.” Kendall’s blue eyes are wide with determination, making my muscles slowly retract, dreading whatever she’s already plotting.

Reality sets in as Kyle rounds the corner, approaching me from behind Kendall.

“I was thinking we could go to the cemetery today,” she says.

My head shakes instantly in protest.

“Ace, you need to go see him.”

“I can’t see him, Kendall. He’s dead.” I see the pain that my words inflict upon their faces, but I can’t soften this. I need to make them stop.

“We’ll go with you,” Kyle says, taking more steps to eat the gap between us.

“What for? I don’t need you guys.”

“Ace!” Kyle’s single word comes with a tone of warning, but it does nothing but make my eyes narrow into a glare. I don’t know what I’m daring him to do, or why I am, but I feel ready for some sort of battle, because I can’t do this. “Why are you being this way?” His eyes search my face like he truly doesn’t recognize me.

“Don’t judge me. You don’t even know who I am! I’ve grown up! I’m not six years old anymore!”

“Like hell I don’t know you!”

Kendall reaches forward and grips Kyle’s forearm and takes another step so she’s in front of him. “Ace, you need to start facing things.” Her voice is smooth and firm, but her eyes are filled with fear as tears dance within them. “I’ve allowed you to talk me into thinking I’m doing the right thing by not saying or doing anything too many times. I’ve always justified it by thinking I was protecting and helping you—but I wasn’t.” She shakes her head slowly as tears begin running down her cheeks. “We’ve all done it, but I was the worst. I never knew how many secrets you kept so carefully hidden. You buried every trace of them with your smiles that I always knew…” she swallows and shakes her head “…I knew it was to cover things you didn’t want to talk about. I just never knew you would hide so much. And now when I start thinking about it, I can think of so many times that I saw you placate us all with that smile, pretending that nothing was wrong when there was. We weren’t helping. We weren’t protecting you. We were doing the exact opposite. You need to face this, Ace, and acknowledge the pain that you’re working so hard to avoid that you moved across the damn country.”

Her words hit me like an open-palmed slap to the face, severe and harsh as they leave me and my eyes stinging. “I’m not hiding.”

“Ace, you’re mad. It’s okay to be mad, but you need to understand why in order for it to stop consuming you.” Kyle’s voice drops to a soothing tone that does anything but.

“The only thing I’m mad about is everyone telling me what to do!” I say, taking a few measured steps toward the back door. “I’m twenty-one years old. I’m a freaking adult. Why can’t you guys get that?”

“Someone needs to tell you what to do!” Kyle yells, his eyes accusing me of so many things I already know are my fault.

“Kyle,” Kendall quietly warns.

“Why are you even here?” I demand, looking to Kyle. “He wasn’t your dad.”

“I’m a part of this family!” Kyle roars. “Me,” he yells, pointing a finger to his chest. “He was my dad.” I clench my teeth harder to avoid the pain I feel when I see his eyes cloud with tears. “I didn’t know what family was until I met you guys. And you,” he says, looking directly at me, “you were the one that was so insistent on including me with everything! I’m a part of this family! I lost my father too, and now I feel like I’m losing my goddamned little sister, and I fucking hate it!” His voice is loud and pleading, his hands both clenched in fists. “You’re my sister, Ace. You’re one of my best friends. You introduced me to this life, to your family, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m not giving up on you, and I’m not letting you push me away anymore.”

My teeth clench several times as my eyes wander around the kitchen before they finally return to Kyle. “I’m so mad at him,” I whisper as a stream of tears fall down my cheeks in a hot flow that doesn’t seem to have an end. “I’m so mad at him for dying.”

“I know.” Kyle’s words are nearly silent. His chin quivers as tears glide over his tanned cheeks. “I know,” he says again, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me against his chest.

My emotional dam breaks for the second time this week, and with it comes my confession. “I lost everything that day.”

“You didn’t, Ace. You didn’t lose everything. We’re still here for you, and we love you. We love you so, so much,” Kendall says. Her hand runs through my hair and I feel her body wrap around my back as Kyle holds me closer.

“He left and my world left with him. I lost Max, and Mom, and my freaking sanity.”

“You didn’t lose me, baby.” The quiet voice makes the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end.

I turn to face her and my lungs constrict even more at the familiar sight of my mom before I drown in the familiar scent of perfume, hair spray, and makeup as she holds me with what feels like every ounce of her strength. I begin to cry even harder. I’d just proclaimed my independence as a grown adult, yet I’m sobbing into my mother’s neck, letting her cradle me like a child, because I really need her comfort and her protection. I’ve needed it for a while now.

She holds me without loosening her grip for a very long time, kissing the side of my face and stroking my back and my hair as she repeatedly tells me how sorry she is and how much she loves me.

Somehow, having my mom here with me makes seeing my dad a little easier, but only by very thin threads. Pulling into the parking lot of the cemetery, my entire chest aches with the desire to cry and the need to remain strong.

My mom’s aware of my fear of death—it’s nothing new—however, I can tell by looking at just the tightness of her hands that this is just as hard for her to be here, so I resolve to be strong for her.

I’ve only been here once since we buried him and that was to see him before I left for Delaware ten months ago, yet my feet know the most direct path to him. I would know the route even if I had waited twenty years to return.

I stop when we get within several feet, and his large headstone blurs as I stare at it amongst the sea of other plaques and headstones surrounding us.

My mom grips my hand, and it’s almost painful because my fingers are already clenched, refusing to relax and intertwine around hers. But she somehow manages to force hers between mine, and then leads me so that we stand in front of his grave.

Except for the sounds of some birds chirping, and the soft rustle of the wind, it’s silent. Kitty and I have begrudgingly discussed this moment several times. The purpose of visiting a loved one once they’ve passed, the therapy behind speaking to and acknowledging them. She’s encouraged me to remember the happy moments and allow them to fill me so the grief and sadness can dissipate. She told me that when I got here, I should just talk to him. Talk like he’s actually here, listening to me, because for all we know, he really is.

I take a few practiced breaths and slowly lick my lips that have gone dry from breathing too hard. “Hi, Dad,” I say softly. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long.” My eyes blur to the point I can’t see anything through the kaleidoscope of tears that fall the second I hear my mom suck in a deep breath and release it with a pained cry.

I realize that regardless of the times that I’ve thought, and rehearsed this moment, nothing could have prepared me for actually being here. Nothing can prepare you for so many things life throws at you. Sometimes you have to stop planning for every possible outcome and reaction, and just experience it. Be present.

We cry painful tears that leave us both weak and exhausted before we head back to her house.

“I don’t want to go in there, Mom. I’m sorry. I just can’t see Steven. I just can’t.”

“He moved out.”

I turn to look at her in shock and she nods solemnly. “I needed Steven when your father passed away. Not in a romantic sense,” she says, shaking her head as though she’s trying to eradicate the past. “I’ve been with your father since I was eighteen. I thought if I was alone, grieving, I’d never make it. I didn’t know how to live without him.” The edges of her lips turn down and her chin quivers as tears roll down her cheeks. “I still don’t know how to live without him. Your daddy was my whole world for so long.”

I reach across the middle console and attempt to hold her as she cries again, offering her some support through my touch.

“I’m so sorry I pushed you away, Ace. I need you. I need all you girls.”

We don’t discuss Steven in much detail over the evening, but my cheeks redden and my heart sighs when she divulges that she never slept with him. She tells me that she’s pretty certain Steven knew all along that she wasn’t going to be able to go through with things, but offered to continue helping and supporting her any way he could. Which it turns out consisted of living in the guest room and helping to establish a new schedule and routine, combing over finances, and learning about who took care of the yard, the pool, and other things that my dad had always handled.

I wake up beside my mom on the couch in the basement. She’s still fast asleep from our hours of stories and tears from last night. The tears had eventually transitioned to mostly happy ones as she shared old memories of my dad, several of which I had already heard but still enjoyed, and a good number that I never had. I had listened to her words, but also her tone as she recounted stories that expressed her love for my dad.

Upstairs, I hear the front door open and get up to see who’s arrived and discover Kyle carrying a large vase of flowers followed by Caulder with a matching bouquet.

“Hey.” Kyle looks at me over the flowers, and although a lot of things feel like they were in some ways resolved yesterday, I can see others weren’t as his eyes shift with unease.

“Hey,” I say softly before looking to Caulder and smiling.

Caulder gives me a warm smile in return and quietly excuses himself after setting the vase on the kitchen table to go get another from the driveway.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving, and for being so closed off. But I’m really sorry for what I said yesterday. You are my brother, Kyle, and you’ve been a part of this family forever.” I confirm, not wanting to allow any more things to go unsaid. I’ve done too much of that in the last year. “I love you, and I was never trying to hurt you, or anyone. I…”

“I love you too, Ace.” Kyle interrupts my words and engulfs me in a hug. “We all knew you weren’t trying to hurt us. It just hurt because we all love you so much and miss having you around, but we want you to do what’s best for you.”

I’ve already realized that it wasn’t just my world that exploded last May. I know that everyone feels the loss and repercussions of my father’s death. Some that didn’t know him very well or weren’t a part of his daily life were able to recover much faster, while others worked to use their grief as a reminder to never take a breath for granted, and some of us, like my mom and me, scrambled to find even ground to stand on—but we all felt that day. It marked us all. What I realize now, standing in front of Kyle, is that I was never alone in this fight. I just had forgotten to look around.

I kiss Kyle’s cheek before sliding out of his truck and waving to him. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” he calls before backing out of the driveway.

I take the few steps to the front door, thinking of what I need to do. Calling Fitz is at the top of my list. I’ve been terrible at touching base with him all week, and I’m sure he’s worried. The driveway and street are filled with cars, and I head up the porch steps hoping to slink in and shower before anyone notices me. I feel like I’ve spent the last forty-eight hours crying and know it shows on my face. The living room is filled with voices and bodies, but no one stops me.

I pause before reaching the hallway and turn. My eyes sweep over the group to ensure my ears didn’t lie. A strange cry that starts out as a squeal and ends with laughter erupts and my arms fly around Fitz with enough impact that I feel his body sway.

“What are you doing here?” I cry, pulling back and looking over his familiar features that are turned up in a smile.

“I came to surprise you.”

I laugh once again and nod. “You definitely did! When did you get here? How did you get here?”

“Well, thankfully not everyone hates social networking as much as you. I found Kendall and she helped me out,” he explains, nodding his head forward.

I turn and see Kendall smiling slyly at me and smile widely in return. As my eyes sweep back to Fitz, I realize that he’s not the only visitor. “Harper, this is Tim, Max’s dad,” my sister says, her blue eyes tracking my reaction.