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Ender lets go of Walker’s tie. He leans in and gives a few more words in Walker’s ear that I can’t hear, and then turns to me, leaving Walker and everyone else dumbfounded at his outburst.
What. The. Fuck?
Ender surprises me when he grips the book a little tighter and walks toward me as if he’s going to say something. His left hand reaches out, and he hands me the book.
Granny smiles up at Ender and then to me, frowning. “I thought this was a wedding, Ender? Why are you giving her a yearbook?”
I pat Granny’s hand softly. “It’s a map for our trip.”
Ender smiles at his grandma and then looks back at me as I take the book from him, our fingers grazing slightly. His smile fades and I get a good look at his beautiful blue eyes. I see them every day in his daughter. “Why are you giving this to me?”
When I stare at him, his eyes fill with regret. Running his hands over his face, groaning, he seems torn as to what he wants to say. He wants to say something. Staring at me, blues so deep and tortured I fear they’ll never be free. He hesitates.
Leaning in, he bends forward, his face at my ear. I draw in a deep breath and don’t regret it. He smells absolutely amazing. I can’t even describe it, but it’s a mixture of his deodorant and cologne, but it’s subtle, not overbearing. “Look inside,” he whispers, and then steps back at least a foot, sighs, and turns and walks away.
Before I can look, or make sense of what’s happening, Granny takes the book from me as Walker approaches us with Kamila. I can’t believe they’re married. They look like the most awkward couple ever. And look at her, she’s staring at Ender. She doesn’t give a fuck about Walker.
“What, Walker?” I snap impatiently, glaring at Kamila. “What the fuck do you want?”
I fight through the urge to stick my tongue out at Kamila and say, “I had Ender’s baby!” But she knows that, and how she hasn’t said anything to Ender yet is a motherfucking miracle.
“Jesus, Hads.” Walker groans, a beer in his right hand. The wedding hasn’t even started and everyone has drinks. Speaking of drinks, my bottle is empty. Granny drank the rest of it. “I was considering apologizing to you, but I guess even that pisses you off.”
“Just your face pisses me off,” I scoff. “You’ve never apologized to anyone your entire life. Why start now?”
Walker shakes his head and exhales slowly, his eyes scanning our surroundings. “I’m trying to be different,” he whispers, Kamila walking away from him and toward where Ender is standing.Please don’t say anything to him about Eddie. I’m still focused on the fact that Walker wants to apologize.
“Why do you want to apologize?”
He lets out a heavy breath, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. “I really fucked things up between you and Ender. I know you’re angry.”
“What are you talking about?” We stare at each other. His eyes flash with regret maybe.
Walker stares at his shoes, swallowing hard. “I uh… maybe Ender should talk to you.”
“Well, Ender hasn’t said anything yet. So spill your fucking guts right now.” I stand up, ready to throw down.
Ender, who is near the door, glances over his shoulder at us, but he’s surrounded by his mom and dad. I want to go over there and position myself between him and Theo, even now. Myles stands next to him, never leaving Ender’s side.
Just then, Eddie and my mom come walking in and Eddie has refused to one, wear her dress because she absolutely hates the color white, and won’t take off her hat.
I lift my eyes to Ender. He sees her. He’s looking right at Eddie with a blank expression.
Oh fuck.
“I’m sorry,” Mom says, handing her over to me. “I tried to get her to wear it but she won’t. She cried bloody murder if I tried to take the hat.”
I frantically scan the distance for Ender and see his attention is on Myles who has positioned himself in the way of Eddie. I move away from Walker with Eddie in my arms and down the hall. She rests her head on my shoulder, her tears slowing but her breathing still hard. “Baby, you have to wear the dress for Auntie.” I press my lips to her cheek. She smells like lilacs and honey. “Can you please put it on?”
“I not wanna,” she whispers, locking her arms around my neck and holding her hat on with the other. “I likes my hat.”
“I know you do. How about you keep the hat but wear the dress Auntie picked for you?”
She shakes her head, tears starting again. I look at what she’s wearing. Jean shorts, a Gators softball shirt, and no shoes.
“You have to put the dress on. You can’t wear this to a wedding.”
“No,” she snaps, the tears increasing. They roll down her cheeks and I push my shoulder forward so she lifts her head. Her eyes have never looked so blue and sad. She reminds me of Ender, so set on her ways she refuses to let anyone change her.