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  “You deserve someone who protects you. You deserve someone who puts you before himself. What an asshole.”

  The feminist in me wanted to shout, “I can protect myself! I don’t need you.” But she was quickly shut up by the more dominant girl in me. The one who yearned for his protection. The one who still reveled in his touch.

  “Do you have any plans today? Or do you want to be a beach bum with me again?” I changed the subject before we got too heavy. I noticed he brought a backpack so hopefully he’d planned to go to the beach.

  “We can do whatever you want to do. I’m game.” We got back into the car and I brought him to my favorite cove in Malibu. It was surrounded by trees and from the public beach was hidden by a group of rocks. Unless you were local, you couldn’t find it.

  I had remembered to put on a swimsuit under my clothes in the trailer. He pulled off his jeans and revealed black swim trunks. We sat on the beach and didn’t talk for a while. There were a good number of older people strewn across the beach. One lady, out of nowhere, started screaming at her husband and slapping his shoulder.

  I hypothesized, “She just found out that he’s been sneaking cheeseburgers after his triple bypass surgery.” Mad cracked a smile.

  “He forgot what they did on their first date and she’s gonna slap him until he remembers.” I was grateful for a lighter conversation.

  “He told her that he lied, her butt does look enormous in that bikini.” He threw his head back at that one.

  “Nah, he just whispered something dirty to her. She’s acting all offended like she’d never think of that in a thousand years. They’ll be out of here in ten minutes flat. Mark my words.”

  “No way,” I said. “They’re like old.”

  He shook his head, “Trust me. My parents are super affectionate. Just wait.” And so I unabashedly stared at them. There was no way he was right. I’d never seen my parents act mushy or gushy. I don’t think I’d ever seen them kiss.

  I looked out at the ocean, not really paying attention to the couple anymore. I pulled my knees in and rested my chin on them. A few minutes later, he tugged on my hair.

  “Told you.” He smiled and tipped his chin to the couple across the beach. They got up and gathered their things and shared one kiss before holding hands and walking away. It was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen.

  “That’s more action than I’ve ever seen out of my parents.” I laughed but it was true.

  “Mine have always been that way. Even when they separated for a couple of years my Dad would still flirt with her and bring her flowers. It was such a sham. We all had bets on when they would get back together.”

  “And did they?” I had no faith in relationships in general and doubted they had gotten back together.

  “Oh yeah, they had a vow renewal thing and went on another honeymoon.” I’d never really met anyone who had a family like that. The parents I knew looked like they were serving a life sentence without parole.

  Chapter 28

  Mad

  Falcon once told me that he loved Reed because she called him on his bullshit. I wanted the opposite. I wanted a girl to see that I needed an anchor to get through the bullshit.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to swim. How she could sit in front of the ocean and not get in troubled me. But it was also refreshing. She knew what she wanted and what she didn’t. I swam for an hour or so while she sat on her towel and read. She wasn’t one of these girls who will do anything just for proximity’s sake. She was her own person.

  I tramped back to the beach through the waves and as I neared, she was crying. My bodyguard instinct kicked into full gear, “What’s wrong?”

  She wiped her tears and then pointed to her book. I plopped on the ground next to her, not even bothering to dry off. “What happened?” I asked. She explained that the girl in the book was depressed because the guy left her. My mom, Nellie and Reed cried at books and movies all the time.

  She cut an incredulous look at me, “You’re not gonna make fun of me?”

  I leaned over and made sure my face was as close as I could get it without touching hers and looked her directly in the eye, “Sweetheart, the sooner you stop comparing me to Simon or whoever, the better off we will be. I’m not an asshole. I’m not a jerk. I’m gonna treat you right even at my own detriment. Might as well get used to it. Now, I’m about to tell you something very serious. So whatever you do, don’t laugh.”

  “Ok,” she grew completely serious.

  “I want pizza again.” She threw herself backwards on the towel and laughed so hard I thought she’d bust a blood vessel. It took her almost fifteen minutes to get ahold of herself. We went to a small pizza place and sat outside since I was too lazy to do anything but throw on a t-shirt. And I swore when I put it on in the car she mumbled, “What a shame.”

  We ordered a huge pizza with everything on it this time, which included pineapple. It was the best thing I’d ever tasted. Someone should’ve intervened in my life sooner and force fed me pizza just to prove what an idiot I was. She looked tired and by the end of the meal seemed like she might not make it back to the parking lot, much less the car.

  “Do you want me to drive? You’re gonna have to help me with the directions but you’re exhausted.”

  She nodded and I made sure she got in the passenger side first. She pointed me in the general direction of the freeway and told me the way to get to Venice Beach. After that I would have to wake her up to get to her apartment. I drove and she slept, unfazed by the incessant honking horns and truck noises. I reached Venice Beach and hated to wake her up. I patted her thigh to wake her up and she popped out of sleep and immediately began directing me. We parked and retrieved the bags from her trunk and began the trek upstairs. She unlocked the door and hesitated. I knew that look. I winked at her, letting her know that I understood and walked in first checking the rooms and behind doors and inside closets for thieves and kidnappers of beautiful women. It gave me a chance to dig a little too. One bedroom was scarce, like no one lived there in a while. The other was hers.

  I lay her bags on her bed and went back to the front door.

  “All clear.” I said and let her come in by me.

  “Ok, thank you.” Her eyes got wide, “Oh shit, I picked you up. Let me take you back.”

  I shook my head, “Nah, I’ll get a cab. Don’t worry about it. You need some sleep.”

  “Are you sure? You can sleep on the couch. I can’t believe I did this. I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey,” I stepped closer to her to cut off her wig out. “I’m fine. You worked hard today. I’m gonna get a cab and get some sleep. You didn’t do anything wrong. You must chill.” I laughed and after a minute she did too. “Ok, well, goodnight Mad.”

  “Goodnight, gorgeous. There’s always tomorrow.” I shut the door behind myself and didn’t hear the click of the lock. I waited a minute and still didn’t hear it, so I knocked.

  She answered and looked at me like I was challenged. “Do you want me to take you home?” She asked.

  “No, but I am going to stand here until I hear you lock the door.”

  “What guy does that?” I gave her a disapproving look. She was comparing me to other men again.

  “Ok, ok, I’m sorry. I’ll lock it.” She shut the door and I heard the click of the deadbolt. I went out to the main road and caught a cab home. It wasn’t far and before I knew it, I was showered and in bed. Sleep took me before I even had the chance to get lonely.

  I didn’t wake up until about eleven the next morning. I showered again after realizing that I’d missed some sand and got dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a white t-shirt. I slipped on some flip flops and my sunglasses and went in search of breakfast. I wanted to call Storey and see if she could join me but wondered about creeping up on stalker status. I walked a couple blocks until I found a place that said ‘Breakfast served 24 Hours A Day’. I took a seat in a bench and ordered pancakes that were filled with sausage, cheese an
d green chiles. I people watched while I waited.

  I ate and paid my ticket. I hadn’t heard from her so I decided to get in the Rover and check Einer’s address again. I hadn’t gotten any phone calls. I drove to the apartment, the bottom unit of a shabby apartment complex. I got out and knocked on the door. I heard noises inside and knocked again, just in case whoever it was didn’t hear me the first time. I yelled into the door, still hearing shuffling, “I’m looking for Einer Macon. I’m not the cops or anything. I just want to talk to him.” The noises ceased but no one answered the door.

  I left another note on the door and hoped whoever lived there would at least do me the courtesy of returning the call. I got back in the Rover and just as I was looking for something to do, my phone rang. It was Storey. I loved a girl who didn’t wait for me to call.

  “Good morning.” I answered and I could hear her clanking around, sounded like the kitchen.

  “Good morning, or afternoon. What are you up to today?”

  “Well, Sleeping Beauty, I’ve already eaten breakfast and I went to scope out the Dad thing. What about you?” I heard her yawn and try to cover it.

  “I’m exhausted still. But I want to see you.” I loved her honesty. She didn’t bullshit around.

  “How about I pick you up something to eat and we can just lay around and watch movies. You can rest and I still get to see you. Sound good?”

  “Um, yeah?” Clearly she was not accustomed to being treated well and if I ever caught Simon in a private venue, I would rearrange his face.

  “Ok, tell me what you want to eat. Anything at all, name it.” She hesitated but then answered.

  “There’s a Chinese place on the other side of Venice Beach road from my apartment. I’ll call in the order if you don’t mind picking it up.”

  “Not at all. Go ahead and call. I’ll be there soon.” I rolled my eyes at her. This was my new mission. Show this girl how women should be treated. How she deserved to be treated. And it would start today. Even if this summer was the end of us, I would leave her with something to remember me by.

  I picked up her Chinese food and then parked outside her apartment. I climbed the steps two at a time and knocked on the door. She answered wearing a pair of black shorts and a pink tank top. Her chocolate hair was down and messy. I looked down to find a pair of fuzzy white slippers with huge red fuzzy hearts on top. They were so damn ugly. But attached to her feet, I could almost find it in my heart to forgive them—almost.

  “Do not say a word about the slippers.” She pointed at me.

  “I wouldn’t dare. Now, can you please pick a movie while I make you a plate?”

  She propped her hands up on those glorious hips and when she began to speak, a chunk of hair fell down in her face. “I can make my own plate.” Then she attempted to blow the hair out of her face and when it didn’t work, she groaned and moved it.

  “I know you can. But I want to. I’ll be there in a second.” I went into her tiny kitchen and shuffled through cabinets and drawers until I came up with a plate, a fork and a napkin. I fixed her plate filled with pork fried rice and honey chicken and brought it out to the living room. She was playing with the remote, trying to skip past the movie previews, clearly having trouble. I slipped the remote from her hand and replaced it with her food. She took it, the look of disbelief still plastered to her face. I forwarded to the main menu of the DVD and pressed play.

  “Oh, I’ve seen this one. Nellie watches it all the time. She’s my other sister in law. She can practically say all the lines with the characters.” The movie was the Breakfast Club with Molly Ringwald. It was seriously cheesy but I’d endured it so many times, it eventually grew on me.

  She squinted at me with a mouth full of rice and I recognized this game from a mile away. And I’d play it with her and take the win.

  Chapter 29

  Storey

  Somehow I’d anted into this hand of five card stud with him but I had a shit hand and no poker face.

  I’d done it on purpose and now I felt like one of those mean girls from a high school movie. I’d picked a movie that Simon hated. I don’t mean hate, like he disliked it. I meant hate as in every time I bought a copy he would hunt it down and burn it, usually at his family’s fire pit at their fishing camp. And I just laughed, chalking it up to testosterone.

  And that’s when I gave up the game I’d intended to play with him. I’d wanted to prove him wrong. Prove to myself that he was just like other guys. But he’d proven me wrong so many times.

  We sat on my couch and watched the kids in Saturday detention and he even quoted some of the lines. I got sleepy again somewhere after the black haired girl made a pixie stick sandwich. I got up to put my plate in the kitchen but I was intercepted.

  “Here, let me. Do you want something to drink? I forgot.”

  “No, I don’t drink while I’m eating. It’s fine. Could—could you get me a bottle of water?”

  “Yeah, of course.” He went into the kitchen and I felt like I’d become a new citizen of opposite land. I’d dated guys after Simon—but they were all like Simon, some even spouted out some of his key traits like making fun of really large girls or skinny guys. I had some kind of sign on my forehead, only visible to assholes that read ‘Come on, ask me out, I won’t say no and I’ll take your shit too!’

  He came back with my water and sat down beside me again, a little closer this time. I had the thought of propping my feet up in his lap but dismissed it. I wiggled them out of my slippers and folded my legs under myself. I shifted again, putting them on the coffee table. I just couldn’t get comfortable.

  “You know what my mom would say,” he asked without breaking his connection with the TV.

  “What would she say?”

  “She would ask you if you had ants in your pants.”

  “You love your mom.” He didn’t have to say it for me to hear it in his voice. He spoke about her like she held a place in his heart.

  “I do. She’s great. I need to call her. She doesn’t deserve what I’m doing to her.”

  “So call her.” He looked at me.

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah, I can go in the other room if you want—or I can stay here. But I can tell it’s plaguing you. So do it. Call her.”

  He blew out a breath and then reached in his pocket for his phone. “Do you want me to go?” I asked.

  “No, I need you here,” He was too busy dialing to see the shock on my face. I’d never been told that someone needed me—ever.

  “Mom, it’s Mad.” I heard him say and then tried to tune the rest out. I leaned forward trying to let John Bender drown out his voice. But it didn’t work. I heard him apologizing to her. I heard him tell her he was fine and apologize again. And when he told her he loved her, his voice cracked. I reached out and grabbed his hand. Somehow I wanted to help steady him. I turned and looked him dead in the eyes while he spoke to her and he never shifted from my gaze. Unexpectedly, he moved his hand to the dip of my waist and pulled me closer to him. I heard him answer ‘Yes Ma’am’ to a question she asked and then he said, ‘Hey Dad.’ I leaned against his shoulder and smiled when I felt him rumble in laughter at something his dad said. His hand rubbed up and down my waist and though I continued to look at the TV, the credits were rolling. A few minutes later he said his goodbyes first to his dad and then to his mom.

  He sat there for a minute without moving. I got up to change out the DVD and a few moments later, heard the sink running in the kitchen. He was washing dishes. I couldn’t help but think that any minute this would crack. That his kindness would crack like the sugar of a praline.

  I put on The Ballad of Ricky Bobby and again fuddled with the remote trying to get to the main menu. He came back in and sat down looking very happy.

  “Good news,” I asked.

  “Not really anything out of the ordinary. It was just good to hear their voices. I thought they would be angry or upset. But they were just worried and were glad I was ok. I�
�m relieved.” He looked relieved, he had released whatever he was holding onto.

  “Well, I’m glad I forced you to call then. And since I’m such a stick in the mud today, I have an idea for tomorrow if you’re up for it.”

  “I’m up for it. I have to get up early and try to catch my dad or whoever is at that apartment but after that I’m yours.” I’m yours…I knew he meant for the day or whatever but I still held onto the words as if they meant more.

  “Great. Ready for Ricky Bobby,” I asked in my best Frenchy accent.

  “Ugh, I love that movie.” I started it, finally figuring the buttons out. I swore I knew how to work the DVD player before he got here.

  I dozed off halfway through Ricky Bobby and woke up looking up at a Maddox’s chin. He was doing that thing where he tried not to laugh and the dimple was more pronounced than the other night. I reached up and put the tip of my finger in the recess of it and he flinched. But he looked down at me and smiled. I realized then that my head was on a pillow in his lap and I’d been covered with a blanket.

  “You fell asleep during Ricky Bobby and then slumped over so I got the pillow and blanket out of your room. You’re so damned cute when you’re asleep. You talk in your sleep too.”

  I sat up and turned back around to reprimand him. “I do not.”

  He laughed, “You do. It’s very endearing.”

  “Ugh, you’re gonna have to record it next time. That’s the only way I’ll believe you. Wait, what did I say?”

  He shook his head, laughing, “Nope, I’m not telling. Anyway, you don’t even believe me. Are you hungry?” he asked. I was.

  “I am. What’d you have in mind?” He probably wanted pizza again—I’d created a monster.

  “Whatever you want. Or I can cook if you don’t feel like going out.”

  “Wait, you cook too? Something’s gotta give here. You’re too perfect.” I couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud. I mean, I’d been thinking it the whole time but to tell him was—well—kinda rude.

  “Trust me, I’m far from perfect. The cracks in me are so deep, I’m nearly broken in half. But I can cook. My parents own a restaurant and you start cooking at an early age in the Black house. So, out or in?”