the picnic table or anything other than just sit here and pretend like it didn’t matter.
I didn’t only like him. I didn’t just want our friends-with-benefits fling to be a real relationship. This was a mess. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. I was supposed to find someone perfect for me. Someone my family would like and we’d make our lives good together. But because it was Marcus, that couldn’t happen and I had to fall out of love with him.
Somehow I’d gone from thinking of Marcus as my friend to wanting him to love me.
A crack in my warming chocolate let melting vanilla soft-serve seep out and sog my waffle cone. “Are you sure I’m not adopted?”
Claire’s face softened. “Neither of you are adopted. Photos from the days you two were born are hanging right outside your room.”
“Then where did I get my red hair?”
“Grandma had that red-brown color.” Claire threw out the end of her cone and took mine from me. She broke off a piece of the chocolate then huffed. “This must be hard for you.”
84
Kate Brauning
Just a bit, yes.
“So if you’re so into him, why didn’t you ever sleep with him?”
The thought made my hands sweat. “I figured, we can’t undo that, you know?”
Claire shook her head. “You can’t undo any of this. And I can’t imagine how many times in the last year you must have given him blue balls.”
Trust Claire to put it that way.
“You really have to end this. Seriously. Promise me you’ll stop making out with him. If you end it, I won’t tell anyone.”
I didn’t answer her.
“Jacks. Really. It’s weird. And long-term, it’s messy. You can’t be permanently related to your ex. It’d be a nightmare. Plus, family is supposed to be a place where some things aren’t an option. It’s a safety thing.”
It seemed so strange that out of all the people in the world Marcus could have been, he ended up being my cousin. Why couldn’t he have been a guy from school? It was so unfair we were related. Some cosmic mistake, a genetic error that couldn’t be fixed.
Claire let me sit there. Maybe she knew I needed the space or maybe she didn’t know what else to say. I couldn’t handle any more questions, and I wanted to stop talking about it. Talking wouldn’t fix it.
The hound wandered away. Sheriff Whitley drove past and waved. A rusty white pickup rolled up to a pump at the gas station across the street.
To keep Claire from grilling me further, I motioned to it.
“Have you seen that truck before?”
She squinted. “Don’t think so. Why?”
A man climbed out—the man who’d come to the produce stand and the pool.
85
How we Fall
He took off his sunglasses and went in to the gas station.
He was probably mid-thirties and not very tall. “I’ve seen him around a lot.”
“Maybe he’s visiting somebody.”
“Do you need gas? I want to check out his truck.” We were maybe thirty feet away and I could see something sticking up in his back seat. I didn’t like the look of it.
“Yes, because the natural response to seeing a strange man lurking around is to go snoop in his truck.” We climbed in to the car and Claire drove across to the gas station. We pulled up to the other side of the pump where the truck idled. He’d gone inside.
“We’re in public. We’ll be fine.” I said the words like I knew what I was talking about.
Claire started filling her tank while I gathered up fast food trash from the car floor to have an excuse for being next to his truck. Claire’s car was almost as messy as Sylvia’s. The garbage can stood right between our vehicles.
The windows weren’t tinted. In the backseat of the cab was propped a compound bow, at least a dozen heavy aluminum-shafted arrows, a cooler, and a pair of expensive-looking bin-oculars.
“Well?” Claire hissed.
I scrambled back to the car. “Let’s go.”
She paid at the pump as he walked out of the convenience store, carrying a gallon of water and sliding on his
I didn’t only like him. I didn’t just want our friends-with-benefits fling to be a real relationship. This was a mess. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. I was supposed to find someone perfect for me. Someone my family would like and we’d make our lives good together. But because it was Marcus, that couldn’t happen and I had to fall out of love with him.
Somehow I’d gone from thinking of Marcus as my friend to wanting him to love me.
A crack in my warming chocolate let melting vanilla soft-serve seep out and sog my waffle cone. “Are you sure I’m not adopted?”
Claire’s face softened. “Neither of you are adopted. Photos from the days you two were born are hanging right outside your room.”
“Then where did I get my red hair?”
“Grandma had that red-brown color.” Claire threw out the end of her cone and took mine from me. She broke off a piece of the chocolate then huffed. “This must be hard for you.”
84
Kate Brauning
Just a bit, yes.
“So if you’re so into him, why didn’t you ever sleep with him?”
The thought made my hands sweat. “I figured, we can’t undo that, you know?”
Claire shook her head. “You can’t undo any of this. And I can’t imagine how many times in the last year you must have given him blue balls.”
Trust Claire to put it that way.
“You really have to end this. Seriously. Promise me you’ll stop making out with him. If you end it, I won’t tell anyone.”
I didn’t answer her.
“Jacks. Really. It’s weird. And long-term, it’s messy. You can’t be permanently related to your ex. It’d be a nightmare. Plus, family is supposed to be a place where some things aren’t an option. It’s a safety thing.”
It seemed so strange that out of all the people in the world Marcus could have been, he ended up being my cousin. Why couldn’t he have been a guy from school? It was so unfair we were related. Some cosmic mistake, a genetic error that couldn’t be fixed.
Claire let me sit there. Maybe she knew I needed the space or maybe she didn’t know what else to say. I couldn’t handle any more questions, and I wanted to stop talking about it. Talking wouldn’t fix it.
The hound wandered away. Sheriff Whitley drove past and waved. A rusty white pickup rolled up to a pump at the gas station across the street.
To keep Claire from grilling me further, I motioned to it.
“Have you seen that truck before?”
She squinted. “Don’t think so. Why?”
A man climbed out—the man who’d come to the produce stand and the pool.
85
How we Fall
He took off his sunglasses and went in to the gas station.
He was probably mid-thirties and not very tall. “I’ve seen him around a lot.”
“Maybe he’s visiting somebody.”
“Do you need gas? I want to check out his truck.” We were maybe thirty feet away and I could see something sticking up in his back seat. I didn’t like the look of it.
“Yes, because the natural response to seeing a strange man lurking around is to go snoop in his truck.” We climbed in to the car and Claire drove across to the gas station. We pulled up to the other side of the pump where the truck idled. He’d gone inside.
“We’re in public. We’ll be fine.” I said the words like I knew what I was talking about.
Claire started filling her tank while I gathered up fast food trash from the car floor to have an excuse for being next to his truck. Claire’s car was almost as messy as Sylvia’s. The garbage can stood right between our vehicles.
The windows weren’t tinted. In the backseat of the cab was propped a compound bow, at least a dozen heavy aluminum-shafted arrows, a cooler, and a pair of expensive-looking bin-oculars.
“Well?” Claire hissed.
I scrambled back to the car. “Let’s go.”
She paid at the pump as he walked out of the convenience store, carrying a gallon of water and sliding on his
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