Summer of Supernovas (26 page)

My hand falls from my face. “What?” I whisper.

“Maybe at first, but then you
had
to have known—”

“No,” I say in a rush, “I didn’t! You said yourself people mistake you all the time. And it was dark and you’re the same height and…you were inside with Lila! She was kissing you! Why aren’t you with Lila?” My argument loses steam when the truth crashes in—I
did
know. Maybe not consciously at first, but at every level the kiss felt different. It felt…
more.

“Nothing happened with Lila, Wil. I couldn’t go through with it. She’s not who I want to be with. Not when all I think about is—”

“This was an accident.” I rise on unreliable legs. “We can’t tell anyone, especially Seth. He…wouldn’t take it well.”

Seth and I are barely back on solid ground, and this would break us. I am positive. I can wave goodbye to my perfect match, and hello to a decade plus of loneliness. Of cold.

Grant stands. “So, what, you want this to be our dirty little secret?”

“It wasn’t dirty,” I lash out.

“Oh?” He takes a step closer. I can’t believe moments ago I was totally wrapped up in those strong arms, never wanting to let go. “Then what was it?”

I stumble back against the bushes.

“Because I’d love to know.” He continues leveling me with his eyes. The battle horn echoes. The game is still going on, but the players are changing. Now it feels like a game between only Grant and me.

I square my shoulders and step closer, until we almost touch. “It was a mistake, Grant. A mistake that will never,
ever
happen again.” I feel the tears build as I say it, but I must end this between us. Sever the invisible cord that binds us…for the
last
time.

The anger churning in Grant mixes with a sad sort of resignation. “The way you kissed me back wasn’t a mistake. The only mistake is—”

“Shh!”
I cup my hand over his mouth. Padding footfalls rush by. I peer through the branches until the coast is clear. I yank back my hand with the sudden awareness of how his breath feels like licks of flames against my palm.

Floodlights blaze, saturating the labyrinth and backyard with yellow light. The shadows are harder to find now. There is nowhere to hide. Nowhere is safe.

The game is over.

“Please,” I whisper, “promise me you won’t breathe a word of this. I’ll…” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’ll tell him. I’ll explain.
Somehow
I’ll make him understand.” But staring at Grant, I realize the likelihood of that is minuscule.

“Fine, I won’t
breathe a word,
” Grant replies, anger edging back in his voice. “But I want you to answer one question.” He grits his teeth before pressing on. “Would your feelings for Seth change if he were any other sign? If he weren’t whatever your astrology mandated, would you still have chosen him?”

My lips part, only the words don’t come. But…the question’s unfair; it’s a vast generalization.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re making this too hard. Because the answer’s so damn easy, Wil.” His lips tilt in a rueful grin. “It shouldn’t matter. If you had truly fallen for him…it
wouldn’t
matter.”

I open my mouth to argue. To tell him it
would
matter. He doesn’t understand the high price of recklessly following my heart’s desires. It would mean dishonoring the wishes of my mother. Obliterating my promise—the very thing that kept her closest to me.

Grant holds up a hand. “No more. I don’t want to hear you.” He slowly backs out from the alcove. “I don’t want to see you. I don’t even want to
think
about you.”

“Wil?” Seth calls in the distance. “Wil? Where are you?”

My breath feels strangled. And the world won’t stop its incessant wobbling. I stagger outside the nook and sink back to the ground, burying my face in my hands. I want it to stop. I want everything to just…
stop.
How did things become so twisted?

Before Grant crash-landed in my life, my path was always sure, my footsteps certain. With astrology as my guide, I’ve always had my map to life. I never had to question.

But now, no matter how I flip or turn my map, there’s no denying…

I. Am. Lost.

Hopelessly pulled in every cardinal direction.

“There you are! What are you doing on the ground?” Seth grins widely, but then his eyes narrow. “Hey…you’ve been cheating, haven’t you?”

“Huh?” I croak, my stomach capsizing. Panicked, I look around for Grant. He’s gone, having disappeared into the thickets of the garden.

“I said you’ve been cheating. I don’t think I heard you shout ‘Polo’ for the last four rounds.” He reaches down, hoisting me up to my feet.

“Oh, um, guilty.” The most honest statement I’ve made all night, and I can’t meet his eyes when I say it.

Seth smiles. “Aw, come here, my little rule breaker. I won’t tell.” He twines his arms around my waist and bends to kiss me.

I duck, pressing my cheek to his chest. “I—I’m sorry. I feel a little nauseous all of a sudden.” Without a doubt, I do feel sick. I hold a hand to my roiling gut.

“Why do you have wood chips in your hair?” He chuckles, pulling out a few and tossing them to the hedges. “And grass? You’re all damp, Wil.” His hands brush over my back. “No wonder you never got tagged, you were staked out in the bushes.”

“Seth, I really don’t feel well.” Bile bubbles up my throat.

“Oh?” He studies me as he places a palm at my cheek. “Huh. You do feel warm. Maybe we should call it a night. Let you rest up so you can feel better for tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” My vocal cords sound braided.

“Family dinner.” He grins and takes my hands in his. “I think it’s time I introduced you to my parents, don’t you? I mean, my mom’s on the verge of disowning me if I don’t bring you home so she can meet you.” Seth laughs. “Which is bananas because she’s never been that amped to meet anyone I’ve ever dated. So”—he squeezes my hands—“what do you say, sweetheart?”

Say? There is nothing I
can
say. The monumental guilt of passionately making out with his brother not five minutes earlier has left me utterly gagged.

It takes five, okay, six wardrobe changes before I deem myself fit to meet the parents. Let’s call a spade a spade and say three of those changes were because of Grant—who, if I recall, doesn’t want to hear, see, or think about me.

My guilt has
got
to be detectable from the edges of the tristate area. I expected Gram to pick up on the stench of my lies the second I stepped foot in the house this morning. Just like I expected her to tell me I couldn’t go to Seth’s for dinner. She surprised me on both counts.

My secrets corrode my insides like a coating of acid. If I keep this up, I’ll need organ transplants by the end of next week. And I barely slept last night. Not even after waking Iri from a dead sleep to unload my sins.

She imparted two coherent words of wisdom before tumbling back to her dreams. “End it.” End it with Seth, she meant.

Thing is…I can’t.

I’ve rehearsed out loud. In the shower. In the car. In my bed. But I can’t seem to find the right words to tell the person who is so perfectly compatible and wholly wonderful that—as it turns out—my heart may not agree.

I don’t know what to do.

It’s this indecision that lands me on the Walkers’ doorstep, pushing the doorbell and praying to God I don’t collapse in a gooey heap on the porch next to the Tuscan urns and topiaries.

I smooth my dress and let out a slow, purposeful breath, clutching the pastry box Gram has sent with me. My eyes track the sprawling house. The exterior is a sort of off-white plaster, with three arches at the front. The roof has those rounded clay tiles that I’ve seen in pictures of Italy. I frown at the arrangement of pale purple irises and greenery I threw together. This house is too nice for my plain-Jane arrangement. I should have hit a flower shop or…

The door opens. Seth is dressed to impress in a button-down shirt and khakis. “What are you doing here?”

“Y-you invited me for dinner.” I catch the twinkle in his eye.

He wags his finger, “Oh, you’re
that
girl. Didn’t I pick you up at some club? Um, what was it…Abstain, Altruistic…”

“Absinthe.” I hear the nervousness in my laugh, but find little I can do about it.

“You look beautiful. I love this dress on you,” he says, running a finger beneath the strap of the polka-dot garment before kissing my shoulder. “And Mom’s gonna love that you brought flowers. Purple—now
that’s
interesting. What did your grandma say about that? Purple signifies…enchantment, right?” He sweeps me in his arms, dipping me back in a grand Hollywood gesture. “Well, consider me enchanted, Wil Carlisle.”

My body goes into rigor mortis as he moves in for a kiss. I turn my face so his lips are deflected to my cheek. He pulls back in clear disappointment.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Oh…you’re nervous. That’s it, isn’t it?” Seth rights me on my feet. “You’re nervous about meeting my parents. Well, don’t be. They’ll love you; I know they will.”

I swallow. “How are you so sure? They might not. I could be an acquired taste. I could be kimchi.”

His gaze lingers on my lips before traveling down the rest of me. “Uh-uh, I’ve tasted you.
Definitely
not acquired. More like addictive.”

My cheeks sizzle. “Let’s not open with that, all right?”

Seth smiles and takes my hand, guiding me into the large house. “I have a surprise for you.” He takes the flowers and cupcakes, setting them on a table in the large foyer.

“You’re really Batman?”

He chuckles. “Sadly, no. Not that cool.”

There’s a huge slab of stone affixed to the wall; water runs down it, collecting in a copper base. I gaze up to the atrium window, where what’s left of the late-afternoon sun is passing through its panes to the plants below.

My heels echo across the tile floor. “Wow, your house is…nothing like mine.”

He grins. “I’ll give you the nickel tour and then I want to show you the surprise. It’s upstairs in my room.” He takes my other hand and walks backward as he leads me. “It’s not a ploy for seduction, so you can stop looking worried. But if you wanted to seduce me, I doubt I’d put up much of a fight.” He laughs as I push him away. “No? Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

Walking down the hall, Seth points out a large sunken room with a stone fireplace and the guest bath adjacent. There’s a study, door partially shut, but I catch a glimpse of a wall full of books and a desk overflowing with papers. We don’t go into the dining room at the rear of the house. Instead, we double back and climb the set of stairs leading to the second floor.

“In here,” Seth says, and pushes open a door. His room is neat for a boy’s, much tidier than mine with my stacks of dog-eared books and accessories forever strewn about my dresser.

I gasp when my eyes land on the surprise. It sits in front of the tall, multipaned window, marked with a big red bow.

“So, you like it?” he asks hopefully.

“Oh my God! Seth, this is the Celestron NexStar 102 SLT telescope! I’ve been lusting over this model for months!”

“I know. The guy at Stargazers said as much. You’re supposed to be able to see the lunar surface and everything.”

My hand traces the compact cylindrical body of the telescope in wonder, before pausing at the computerized keypad. “This is too much, Seth.” I shake my head. “Way, way too much.” It pains me, but I distance myself from the beloved telescope. “I’m…really sorry, but I can’t accept this.”

“Yes, you can,” he urges. “Look, don’t worry about the cost. If it makes you feel better, we’ll call it a Christmas gift.”

“It’s June.”

“An
early
Christmas gift.” Seth crosses the room, looping his arms around me. “Let me do this for you, Wil.” He tucks a finger under my chin, tilting my face to his. “Just say yes. What good is having money if you can’t share it with the people you care about?”

Guilt vacuums the air from my lungs. Which is why it takes a moment for me to respond. I place my hands on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart. “Seth, this is so amazing and generous. I’ll think about it, okay?”

Translation:
I will think of a million reasons why I can’t accept this gift, starting with your brother. And ending with my deceit.

He adds with an impish grin, “Did I mention the ten percent restocking fee if I return it?”

“No, you didn’t.” I toy with one of the buttons on his shirt, avoiding his eyes.

“Something else wrong? Or is it just the nerves over meeting my family?”

My gut twists and my heart spastically
ca-thud
s in my chest. And I’m fairly confident my palms have sprung leaks and are misting like the Walkers’ sprinkler system. “There’s something I need to tell you.” I try to measure his response, but his brown eyes are guarded.

“Yeah, actually”—he rubs the back of his neck—“there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, too. I’m, uh, hoping we can laugh about it.”

Laugh about it?
Now I’m totally perplexed. If it’s funny, it must not have anything to do with Grant and me, because there isn’t a snowball’s chance Seth would find anything remotely funny about that.