Thirty Sunsets (20 page)

Slosh, slosh, slosh
go our footsteps through the waves.

“But he never stopped looking me in the eye,” Brian adds, a warm breeze blowing against our faces. “That meant a lot to me. I thought,
He’s not afraid of this; he’s not afraid of us.
It made me feel … not afraid.”

I nod, blinking away tears.

Slosh, slosh, slosh.

“What about Mom?” I say. “What did she say after you found out?”

Brian shrugs. “We, like, hugged. She cried. I told her everything was cool. And it was. Life went back to normal after that.”

“No it didn’t,” I say, looking down. “That’s when you started breaking out in rashes.”

“Oh yeah. Thanks for reminding me, by the way.” Brian pauses, then adds, “You know, I never even made that connection.”

“It’s when you started dating Olivia, too,” I say cautiously. “And when you decided to blow off college.”

“Forrest, honest to god, I never associated any of those things with ‘the news.’ I was just living my life.”

“But making really weird choices.”

“Yeah, dating the prettiest girl in school was way out there.”

I jostle him. “You know I’m cool with Olivia now,” I say, then giggle as Brian makes an exaggerated gesture of relief. “But college … blowing off college was weird. Was it, like, a way to get back at Mom? Even though it wasn’t her fault?”

Brian runs his fingers through his hair. “Nah. Although, frankly, there’s never a
bad
occasion to get back at Mom.” Pause. “Of course I never blamed her. I hated that bastard for hurting her … like I hate that bastard Scott.”

I wince hearing Brian say his name.

“But I guess it did make me rethink my priorities,” Brian says. “I felt this new sense of liberty in living for myself, making my own choices instead of trying to please Mom.”

I crinkle my eyebrows together. “But what if you’d
liked
college? What if what Mom wanted is really what would have made you the happiest?”

“Uh, in the first place, I’m
going
to college,” Brian snaps playfully. “God, you act like Starrett Community College is Alcatraz or something.”

“No, no,” I protest. “Harvard, Yale, Vanderbilt, Starrett Community College … they all share that Ivy League vibe.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, well, a degree is a degree. I’m happy. And I don’t break out in rashes anymore. It’s all good, right?”

I smile.

Slosh, slosh, slosh.

“Do you ever think about
him
?” I ask. “Are you ever curious about—”

“No.”

That’s it. Just no.

I stop abruptly.

Brian turns and looks at me, then follows my gaze. Some guys are playing Frisbee a few yards up the beach.

My heart pounds through my shirt.

“That’s them.”

thirty

Brian thrusts out his chest.

“Scott?” he asks me, his voice eerily calm.

“No,” I say, panting softly, “he’s not there. But those are the guys I’ve seen him playing Frisbee with.”

Brian starts running toward them. I freeze for a nanosecond, then trot to catch up with him.

“Brian, wait … ”

Brian lunges toward one of the Frisbee players, stopping only when their noses are practically touching. “Excuse me,” he barks. “Looking for a guy named Scott.”

The Frisbee player backs away warily and eyes his friends.

“Uh … he’s not here,” the guy says.

“So tell me where I can find him.”

“Brian … ” I plead.

“I dunno, man,” the Frisbee player says. “He’s thrown a Frisbee around with us a few times, but it’s not like we hang out … ”

“Just point out where he’s staying,” Brian says, moving closer again and pumping his fists by his side.

The guy scratches his head. “Where he’s
staying
?”

“Yeah. He’s staying at his aunt’s place, right?”

The guy looks genuinely puzzled, again exchanging glances with his friends.

“I don’t think so … ” he says.

“Sure he is,” Brian says, muscling another step closer. “Just finished painting her bathroom. Show me the house, bro. Just want to know which house is his.”

The guy backs away a bit. “Yeah, he painted somebody’s bathroom recently, but it wasn’t his aunt’s. Just some lady on the beach who hired him to do some painting. That’s what he told
us
, anyhow. Think he said he finished the job. But he doesn’t
live
here … he lives somewhere in town, I think. He just hangs out on the beach a lot. I don’t even know his last name.”

Brian studies his face, then looks at his friends. “All I want to do is talk to the guy,” he says, trying not to sound as menacing as he looks.

“We’d help you if we could,” one of the guys says. “But we really don’t know him that well. The guy’s kind of a jerk, actually.”

Brian considers his words.

“I really need to talk to him.”

“Yeah,” the first guy says. “If we see him again, we’ll definitely tell him you’re looking for him. You live on the beach … ?”

“
I’ll
find
him
,” Brian says. “Like I said … just need to talk. So … I’ll head this way every so often, see if I get lucky and catch him hanging out with you guys … ”

“Yeah, yeah,” they murmur, assuring Brian they’ll be on the lookout.

Brian stands there for a long moment, studying their faces, one at a time. “Great,” he says. “Appreciate it.”

“What are you
doing
?”

Brian is walking so fast up the beach, I have to trot to catch up with him.

“Can’t let the summer go by without introducing myself to ol’ Scott, can I?”

I breathlessly pull on his arm, forcing him to stop. “
Don’t!
” I beg. “I can’t stand thinking of you breathing the same oxygen as him. And if he has any sense at all, he’ll lie low. I’ll probably never see him again. And that’s all that matters. I just want him to disappear. Please don’t make me have to deal with him again, Brian.”

Brian’s eyes soften. “
You
won’t have to deal with him at all.”

“I don’t want him polluting our lives! In
any
way, in
any
form, on
any
body’s terms.
Please
let this all go away.”

Brian’s chest seems to literally be deflating before my eyes. He sighs. “Okay,” he says grudgingly. “If I run into him, I don’t make any promises, but I’ll just … chill. Okay?”

I exhale through puffed-out cheeks. “Thank you.”

We start walking again at a normal pace, and after a couple of minutes, my heart stops racing.

I’m safe
, I remind myself.
My big brother’s here. I’m safe.

“God, Forrest, I am
so sorry
.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

Olivia smiles, but her eyes are sad. “I’m sorry about everything. But mostly about … about your parents … about the secret.”

I guess Olivia has been waiting for me in our bedroom. She was out with her mom all afternoon, so we haven’t had a chance to talk about … about … well, about any of the Jerry Springer issues that have come crashing into my life in the past twenty-four hours.

I’m toweling my hair dry from the shower as I walk to the dresser in my robe.

“I shoulda hooked up with your mom eons ago,” I muse. “Gotta hand it to her, she can cough up family secrets like nobody’s business.”

“I’m
so sorry
,” Olivia repeats. “It was so stupid of me to tell her.”

I turn to look at her. “It’s okay. Really. It’s okay.”

Tears fill Olivia’s eyes. “And Scott … oh, Forrest, it’s just so
awful
.”

I walk over to her. “Thanks for the things you said to me … for watching out for me, for trying to—”

“I didn’t do anything,” Olivia moans. “I should have done so much more. I should have stayed with you on the beach and made sure he couldn’t come near you … I mean, I just thought he was a
player
, which is bad enough. I didn’t know he was—”

“It’s okay,” I say in barely a whisper. “
I’m
okay. I handled it. And now … well, I’m a lot wiser now.”

Olivia shakes her head, her eyes still teary. “Not all guys are like that,” she insists. “I had some bad experiences with guys before I met Brian. I mean, they’re out there … the guys who just want to use you … but they’re not
all
that way, Forrest.”

She hugs me spontaneously, and I hug her back for a long moment.

As our arms untangle, I say, “So your mom headed back home?”

Olivia nods.

“I miss her already,” I say.

Olivia giggles through her tears. “I hate her,”
she says.
“
Hate
her,
hate
her,
hate
her.”

She plops on the floor and leans against the bottom bunk. I sit next to her.

“You know what’s pathetic?” she says wistfully. “No matter how many times she lets me down, I always come back for more. I always crave her approval, always hope the next time will be different, always carve out whatever little slice of my soul I think I can toss at her to keep her coming back.”

“You’re better than her,” I say, and I mean it.

Olivia nods. “She set the bar pretty low.”

We giggle again.

“But I’m gonna be a great mom,” Olivia says with a look of steely determination. “Whatever my mom would do, I’ll do the opposite.”

“Excellent plan.”

She looks into space. “Do you think Brian started dating me just because he was so vulnerable? That if he hadn’t found out about his dad, we’d never have gotten together?”

I shake my head. “Nope. I think he loves you.”

I mean it.

Olivia considers my words. “I couldn’t believe that at first. I thought,
He’s such a great guy; what could he possibly see in me
?”

I look at her and raise an eyebrow. “Uh,
hello
,” I say.

She blushes. “I mean it. I think when your own mom bails on you … well … it really does a number on your self-esteem.”

I feel a pinch in my heart. How
dare
Olivia base her self-esteem on her mother’s selfishness. How
dare
her stupid mother create that destiny for her.

Dad’s words echo in my head:
Don’t judge people by their parents
. I love my dad for saying that. I love him for
living
it.

My fingers dangle over my knees. “Do you think if your mom had stuck around,” I ask, “that you’d be in a different place now?”

She shrugs, both of us still gazing into space. “I wish she’d stuck around. But I wouldn’t want to be in a different place.”

A moment passes. “It’s weird how my parents ended up together,” I say, “but it seems to have worked out okay.”

Olivia’s eyes turn wistful. “I’m beginning to think that most people just kind of
fall
into adulthood. You know, when you’re little, you think of your future like a buffet—I can have this, or this, or that, or a little bit of everything—and when you grow up, you realize you’re more like a kid at a parade, waiting for a clown to toss some candy your way, then hoping you can beat out the other kids to grab a piece, then realizing you’re stuck with whatever ends up in your hand. But happy to have it.”

I nod. “Deep. I guess the secret is being happy to have it.”

“Well, it is candy.”

I shrug in agreement, then say, “What if, instead of throwing you candy, the clown runs over your foot with his unicycle?”

Olivia
mmmmm
s in contemplation. “Then you’re screwed.”

The fan whirs overhead.

“So you’re gonna do surveillance on all the guys I hang around in the future?” I ask her playfully.

“Well, I
do
have a lot of experience in these areas,” she says. “Maybe I can be your go-to girl when it comes to guys. And you can be my go-to girl when it comes to … ”