Winter Break (Chasing Chase London #6)

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“Brick”—Ben Folds Five

The next morning, I drag Meghan and my sister down to the beach. The memories of my encounter with Chase last summer that still linger along the shore can’t compete with the memories of Dad in the house. Now that I’ve looked at his picture, I feel him everywhere, a ghost that’s waiting to get me alone so we can sit down for a conversation I never want to have.

I ripped the Band-Aid off with Chase a long time ago. I’ve known him so long that the memory of that night has been eclipsed by a hundred other memories of him. If anything, it’s humiliating to know my friend is so intimately acquainted with my body. I’m ready to replace that night with some ordinary days on the lake.

It’s warm and muggy out, but the water’s too cold for swimming, so we sit on the shore watching Lily dig a hole in the imported sand and exclaim in dismay when she hits gravel and rocks and mud a few inches down. That doesn’t deter her. She starts collecting pebbles in her strainer and washing them in the water. There’s hardly anyone out, just few people walking their dogs, and it’s peaceful on shore. After a while, Meghan starts texting her boyfriend, and I lie down on our blanket and doze off under the endless blue sky.

“Hottie alert,” Meghan says in her droll, uninflected tone, dragging me from my slumber. “One for you, one for me.”

“I’ve got enough boy drama at home,” I remind her. “Not to mention that the last time I was here I made the biggest mistake of my life.”

Meghan just rolls her eyes. “Which one do you want?”

I roll my head that way to humor her, not bothering to sit up. When I spot the two guys in swim trunks and hoodies walking towards us, one of them holding hands with a girl, I glare at her. “Very funny,” I say. “Are you giving me the one with a girlfriend?”

“Hey, it’s a little funny,” she says with a little grin.

“Whatever,” I say, closing my eyes again. “I’m taken. I have my sweet Toddy Bear.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wants to get laid while you’re here.”

“That is not what I said.”

She shrugs and slips a cigarette from her pack. “I made eye contact. They’ll come over. And you never know. You might them.”

“What, just because you made eye contact, he’s gonna come talk to you?”

“Well. Yeah.” She sounds like it’s the most logical thing in the world, inconceivable that he wouldn’t.

Apparently she’s right, because they head straight toward us. At first, they were too far off to see if they were cute, but up close, it’s impossible to miss. They’re both tall—and that’s not something I can say about many people—and I can tell they’re fit even in hoodies. Their black hair is messy on top, with a gradual fade to a buzz on the sides, and they both have the same pouty pink lips and thick dark lashes fringing their eyes, which are a striking color that’s as close to purple as blue. They’re not just obviously family, but identical except for their expressions.

The one holding hands is talking and laughing with the girl as he approaches, while the other hangs back a step, a frown darkening his brow as he takes us in, clearly not too happy about being dragged over to talk to us.

I immediately feel a kinship with him, even if he’s markedly unfriendly while his brother has an easy gait and an open demeanor.

“Hullo, ladies,” says the smiling one, his voice warm and laden with a thick Irish accent that makes me want to melt into a puddle. “Bum a light?”

Okay, so Meghan may have a point. If he wasn’t holding hands with a girl hot enough to snag a guy who looks like him with an accent on top of it, even if she could easily pass as his sister, and if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I would be so interested.

“Yeah, definitely,” Meghan says. I’ve never actually seen her flirt with a guy. I know she hooks up plenty, but it’s weird to imagine her getting stupid like I do. She’s just like always, though, her same deadpan voice and mild smile as she hands him her lighter.

He drops his girl’s hand and takes the lighter before producing a pack of cigarettes from his hoodie pocket. “What are you girls doing out here?”

“Just hanging out. You?” Meghan says, totally relaxed and calm as she lights her own cigarette when he’s done.

I could never talk to a strange guy. I probably couldn’t even make eye contact. I finally sit up, so I’m not squinting into the sun, and check on the other guy, who’s turned his back on us and is watching Lily play at the edge of the water.

“Visiting my uncle,” the chatty brother says. “Though I may have found better company here. Mind if we join you for a bit?”

“No, yeah, totally,” Meghan says, scooting over on the blanket until I have to do the same.

The guy sits beside her and pats the space on his other side. “Oliver, have a seat, mate.”

When he says Oliver, it comes out like Ooh-li-vuh, and I try not to giggle like a delighted schoolgirl. Which would obviously convince him I’m insane, so it’s a good thing neither of us are interested or available. The other guy—Oliver—hesitates a moment, then sits down next to his brother, still looking grumpy about it. At least he’s on the other end of the blanket, so I don’t have to try to make conversation with someone who obviously doesn’t want to be here.

“I’m Meghan,” my cousin says. “This is Sky.”

“Hi,” I say. “Um, nice to meet you?”

It comes out like a question, and my awkward ass starts blushing like an idiot to top it off. It’s a good thing I have Todd, since I couldn’t flirt to save my life.

“Pleasure, I’m sure,” says Oliver. His accent is even stronger, his voice cool and smooth, but he doesn’t look like he’s ever been pleased in his life. He’s clearly the stick in the mud of the two of them, while his brother got all the charisma.

“You staying around here then?” asks the friendly one.

I drift into my thoughts while he and Meghan talk and flirt, since I’m spared having to make conversation. The girl who was with him doesn’t seem to mind, and she wanders down by the water and offers Lily a rock for her collection.

“Hello, dreamy,” Meghan says, elbowing me. I realize she must have said something while I was tuning her out and studiously avoiding looking at the guys so they wouldn’t consider it an invitation and talk to me, and therefore realize I am socially DOA. “Do you want to swim?”

“Um, no? Are you crazy? It was literally snowing a few days ago, and it’s barely sixty degrees out.”

“I’m going in,” says the friendly guy, whose name I missed. He stands and strips off his hoodie, dropping it onto our blanket.

He grins down at me when he catches me checking out his muscles and the heart tattoo on his shoulder with a banner that says “Mom” on it. I quickly look away, but not before I notice the inside corner of one of his front teeth has a tiny chip in it that gives him a kind of roguish edge that offsets the cheesy tattoo. He seems delighted by my admiration, but before he can say anything, Meghan stands and drops her pants like she does this every day.

I want to blush for her, but she shows not a shred of embarrassment as she peels her shirt over her head. She doesn’t do it in a sexy way, like Daria would, but the guy gapes at her anyway. She tosses her shirt onto the pile of clothes and follows him down to the water in her bra and panties.

“My brother’s a bit mad,” Oliver says, a small smile ghosting across his lips, the first trace of emotion I’ve seen on him besides annoyance and surliness. He has a little freckle above the corner of his mouth, and his accent makes me as mental as his brother’s.

“Are you guys, like, identical?” I ask, since all semblance of intelligent life seems to have floated out of my body. They’re clearly identical, and probably everyone they meet asks the exact same thing, the same way people feel the need to say, “Wow, you’re tall,” when they meet me.

“No,” he says frowning. Then he glances at me. “Just physically.”

He cracks the tiniest smile, and a little flutter darts through my belly. It’s not a flock of swarming birds or an all-out Monarch migration that blots out the sun like I get with Chase, but a solo butterfly is definitely beating its wings inside me. It’s not threatening to knock me out with a smile that could be weaponized, but it’s there. It’s probably just the accent, or maybe the color of his eyes, the strangest color I’ve ever seen, like ocean water after the sun sets when a hazy purple takes over right before dark, or the dimple right below the corner of his mouth, in an exact line with the freckle.

He gives me a funny look and then drops his gaze, and I realize I’m staring. Blood rushes to my face, and I look down too.

“Sorry,” I say. “I just, uh, I like your accent.”

He chuckles, a quiet sound that rumbles in his chest and dies before it reaches his mouth. “I like your name,” he says.

“Me too,” I say. “I mean your name. Obviously. I don’t like my name. That would be weird. Or I guess it’s not weird but… I’m just going to stop talking now.”

My face has turned to an inferno, and I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. I don’t even like the name Oliver particularly, and I’ve never met someone with that name, but suddenly I remember that Chase said if he was a girl, he’d want to kiss someone named Oliver, and now I’m thinking about them kissing because apparently I’m a pervert as well as a complete social failure.

I give up on conversation and watch my cousin and his brother finally duck all the way into the water. They splash around laughing and dunking each other under, like they’re just taking a casual dip and it’s not freaking December. I cannot even fathom taking off my clothes and getting in icy cold water with a complete stranger, no matter how charming or foreign he might be. I feel totally awkward just sitting here, not able to think of a single thing to say, and I have all my clothes on. The silence seems to stretch on and on forever, until it’s so thick I could choke on it.

I am literally in pain by the time the swimmers finally emerge, covered in goose bumps and shivering. Their lips are blue from the cold, but they’re both laughing through chattering teeth as they return.

“How long are you staying?” Oliver asks when they’re a few steps away.

“My god, what a rush,” his brother says cheerfully. “You’ve got to try it before we leave, Ollie.”

“Aye. I’ve got to get back,” Oliver says, seeming to forget that he asked me a question that I didn’t have time to answer. “You coming?”

“Wait for me, yeah?” His brother turns to Meghan. “Want to meet up before you leave then?”

She gives him her OnlyWords handle while I gather up our things and pretend no one’s there. When I’m done, Oliver is standing there awkwardly, his hands shoved into his hoodie pocket, watching me like he’s waiting for something. Since I don’t know if he expects me to give him my contact info or answer his earlier question, I do neither.

I’m cool like that.

“I, uh, I better get my sister,” I say. “It was nice talking to you.”

“It was.” He shifts on his feet, taking one hand from his pocket and glancing at me as if he’s debating whether to hug me or shake my hand. “Enjoy the rest of your holiday.”

I’m pretty sure I will do something that causes lethal levels of embarrassment for one or both of us if I stay a second longer, so I turn and flee the scene before that happens. I’m so grateful to have Lily for an excuse I can almost forgive Mom for all the times she’s made me babysit for free. I didn’t realize there were other people like me out there, and that if we combined forces, we’d break the space time continuum and stop time at the most awkward moment in the history of mankind. Now that I know, I need to be on the lookout for more so I can make sure I’m never alone with one ever again.