If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle (152 page)

I grin. I know she does, even if it’s in her annoying “big sister knows best” way.

“You think me meeting your parents is, like, her final test for me to get her to marry me?” For the first time since we’ve met, his voice isn’t full of confidence or amusement.

“I don’t think so. At the end of the day, Gia makes her own decisions. I just think it’s important to her.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” he says more to himself than to me.

For the first time, I feel empathy for him. Regardless of what foot we’ve gotten off on, one thing I can clearly see is that he loves my sister, and as confident as he is, he may not know that she loves him.

“My parents, or my mom at least, she’s not that bad…” I nearly cringe at the lie that almost left my mouth. “Wear a nice tie and show her your best manners, and you’ll be fine. If my mom likes you, Martin will too.”

He nods. “Thanks.”

“Make sure to cover up your tattoo though. They’re really conservative.”

He smirks and glances at me. “How do you know I have a tattoo?”

I can feel my cheeks heat up. “You seem like the type of guy that has a tattoo,” I say airily. “My friend Zach has two. I don’t have any. You kind of remind me of him.”

“He’s your boyfriend?”

I shake my head with a laugh. “Not really.”

“How is he not really your boyfriend?”

“Well, Zach isn’t exactly the type to actually have a girlfriend,” I explain.

He cocks his head to the side. “And are you the type of girl who likes guys who don’t have actual girlfriends?”

I smile and turn my attention out the window.

“So what do you do when you’re not hitchhiking across the country and pissing off your parents?” he asks.

I look back at him, noticing his eyelashes are lighter than his hair, thick and long. “I didn’t hitchhike. And exactly how much did Gia tell you about me?” I can only imagine the stories Mom has exaggerated to her over the last year.

“Pissing off your parents isn’t that big of a deal. I certainly have pissed off mine more often than not,” he says, and I arch an eyebrow.

“Nooo, you don’t seem like that type at all,” I say sarcastically.

“No one can start an uproar at the Crestfield house like I can,” he says with a laugh.

“Crestfield. Your last name is Crestfield?”

“Technically, but I’m in the process of changing it back to my father’s name. My biological father’s name is Scott.”

I note hostility in his tone.

I like Scott a lot better than Crestfield.

“Your mom remarried too?”

“Yeah, I was three when she remarried after my dad passed away,” he says quietly.

“That’s sucks.” After my own dad passed away, I’d learned that hearing people tell you they’re sorry is pretty worthless.

“I don’t really remember him. That’s more messed up than him being dead, I think,” he says, and I nod. “Gia said you and your dad were really close?”

“We were. He was my best friend,” I say, watching the endless rows of fields stretch out along the road. “Things were so much better when he was around.” I sigh. I’ve never said that to anyone, and I’m not sure why I’ve said it to him. “He was my ally, you know? He understood me. Now that he’s gone, it’s like I’m the odd man out. I don’t fit anymore.”

“My best friend always used to say that when people die, they’re still with you. Watching over you, pushing you to be better,” he says solemnly. “And the best way you can honor them is to listen to their little pushes.”

I feel my eyes watering, and I quickly wipe away my tears. I’ve successfully gone three straight months without crying over Dad, and I really don’t want to break my streak. “What about you? Are your parents proud that you grew up and became a fine educator?” I laugh, but he doesn’t smile.

“My parents are probably two of the few in the world who didn’t want me to teach. My stepfather wants me to follow in his footsteps and work for his company.”

“What about your mom?” I ask in disbelief. His parents must be tough if being a teacher isn’t good enough. My parents would throw a parade if I chose that path.

“My mom thinks whatever my stepdad tells her to,” he says, and I detect the bitterness in his tone.

“Sounds familiar,” I mutter, except I’m not sure if my mom thinks what Martin tells her to or if it’s the other way around. Either way, their thinking never suits me.

We grow quiet, and the music continues to play. We’re both lost in our thoughts when I see a sign saying “State Carnival in Ten Miles.” My eyes widen, and I gasp.

“Oh my God, there’s a carnival going on!” I sound way too excited, but the inner kid in me is trying to burst out.

“Yeah.” He chuckles.

“Carnival. What else is there to say? We have to stop!” I say authoritatively, and he looks amused. “Come on! Games, corndogs, kettle corn, funnel cake.” I feel my mouth water.

“And you say you’re not immature.” He chuckles.

“I will take your insult if it means I get funnel cake.” I display my best sweet pleading girl smile.

He glances at his watch.

“We don’t have to stay long. We’ll make it to my house early enough for dinner,” I say.

He looks at me skeptically.

“Please please, please!” I sound like a six-year-old to my own ears, but I don’t care. Carnivals have the best food.

He rolls his eyes and laughs. “Okay, but you’re buying.”

“Actually, you’re buying because I’m sort of out of money, but I’ll win you something nice, I promise.”

“There is nothing better in the world than kettle corn and a cold Coke,” Will says before stuffing some in his mouth.

“Yes, there is. It’s called funnel cake and a root beer float,” I say before swallowing the latter. “When is the last time you’ve been to a carnival?” I steal a piece of his popcorn.

He looks up as if he’s thinking. “Never.”

I frown at him, expecting it to be a joke. “Seriously, never? Not even as a little kid?”

“My stepdad thought a lot of things were frivolous. That children should focus on more important things, like their future, and not the triviality of childhood that is a distraction,” he says, mimicking what I assume is his stepdad’s voice.

“Your stepdad sounds like a major ass-wipe.” Then I remember that I should have a filter on my mouth…per Gia’s suggestion.

William’s grin lets me know that slip was okay. “Gia likes him.” He shrugs, and my face scrunches up. “More impressive is that he likes her.”

“Most people do,” I say with a reflective smile.

“My stepdad really doesn’t take to anyone. He hasn’t with me, and I lived in his house for over fifteen years,” he says.

“Does Gia know he’s never taken you to a carnival?”

He laughs and shrugs. “Nah. Me and Gia don’t really talk about my issues with the family. Her stuff always seems like real problems. I didn’t want to seem like a spoiled, grumbling rich kid.

“When I did my student teaching, I did a year in the inner city. It was rough, but it was an eye-opener. Seeing how kids live there… some didn’t even have a parent to go home to because they had to work two jobs just to make ends meet. It really makes you realize what’s important and how lucky you are. A lot of kids were smart and had potential but didn’t even consider going to college because they couldn’t afford it, because no one else in their family had gone. They didn’t consider it an option.” He’s so passionate the blue in his eyes seems deeper. “Even with a snob of a stepdad, life could have been a whole lot worse.” He sips the last of his Coke.

With that statement, I really look at Will. His parents are rich, but he doesn’t flaunt it. He wears Levi’s and plain T-shirts like he’s refusing to be what he is—except being beautiful. He can’t refuse that. I can see why Gia fell for him and why she’s skeptical. He’s playful and sarcastic, but behind his eyes, he looks vulnerable. A piece of him seems broken, and it makes you want to fix it.

“So since you’ve never been to a carnival before, that means you’ve never played any carnival games?” I ask sneakily.

“You got me.” He laughs.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

We play almost every single game in the carnival. We start from the entrance and make our way around. I don’t remember sucking so much at them, but apparently I have amnesia since I’m pretty bad. Will is actually good at almost everything he plays, winning a prize from each. He doesn’t keep them though, with the exception the last game. He wins a cute stuffed bumblebee there, and I think he’s keeping it for Gia. I don’t to tell him that she hates stuffed animals and that when we were younger, she hid all of mine from me.

We ride the bumper cars and the Tilt-a-Whirl, which Will doesn’t do great at. He has to sit down for at least twenty minutes, while I tease him mercilessly, but things have gone really well. Will is cool, and I feel like around him I don’t have to watch what I say or think too hard about it. It’s funny since we’ve only known each other a few days and got off on the wrong foot, but we’re comfortable together, or at least I’m comfortable with him. Or maybe it’s easy to be comfortable with someone in such a fun-filled place.

“We should probably be heading back,” he says, glancing at his watch.

“Just one more thing,” I say, pointing at the Ferris wheel. “No trip to a carnival is complete without that.”

We wait in line for about ten minutes before we make it to the front. The ride worker—an older woman, possibly in her fifties—opens the carriage for us with a smile.

“You guys are handsome couple. You’re going to make it for the long haul, I can tell,” she says with a wink as we climb in.

“We’re not together,” I tell her before she closes the gate. I’m not sure if she hears me—a part of me hopes she doesn’t.

We sit on the opposite sides of the ride.

“I had so much fun today. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time,” I tell him.

“I did too. You’re pretty cool, Gwen Dwyer,” he says, squeezing the little stuffed insect in his arm.

“You’re not bad yourself. Gia’s really lucky,” I say, surprising myself with the hint of sadness in my voice.

He gives me a bright smile, then his expression softens. The moment is broken when the Ferris wheel lurches and makes this horrible grinding sound that makes my heart about jump out of my chest. It’s so jarring I end up almost on top of Will, who grips my waist. When the death machine stills, I notice his breath is minty. When did he get gum? I then notice how crystal clear his blue eyes are, how strong and warm his hands are against my skin, how they send a tingling through my entire body. For a moment, just for a moment, I forget he’s Gia’s boyfriend. I want to close my eyes and take his lips in mine. I want him to pull me close and kiss me softly and for him to make it long.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, our faces only inches from one another’s.

I nod. Does he feel this? Is it one-sided or maybe just a crazy sugar-induced adrenaline rush that’s playing with my mind, giving me crazy thoughts about taking his face between my hands and kissing him? Neither of us moves. I feel a pull toward him. Our lips are magnets. I swear I see him slowly inching toward me, our walls both coming down, until the lights and the music of the ride come back on and we both snap out of the trance. And the very next moment is the most awkward and most heartbreaking moment I’ve ever experienced. His hands leave my waist, and I push myself to the other side of the ride.

“That was crazy, wasn’t it?” he says, his voice higher than it was a few seconds ago.

“Yeah, real crazy.” I’m not sure if he’s referring to the ride going haywire or if he means the moment that would have been certifiably insane if the ride hadn’t started to move again.

Crazy
adj.
– definition: wanting to kiss your sister’s boyfriend.