Page 17 of Little Pieces of Light

One thing I’d managed to remember from math class was the concept of a shared property—something multiple situations had in common.

Over the past few days, situations that had been normal in my world were suddenly flipped upside down, and Xander was why.

I’d all but forced myself to forget about him, and now, suddenly, he was a default setting—the place my mind and heart went to first.

Ridiculous. We were ten years old. Why does it feel like so much?

“So…what?” Tucker was asking. “You want romance? I told you, babe, it’s not my thing.” He reached out and brushed his knuckles against my cheek. “But I’ll always take care of you. No matter what.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He burst out laughing, then coughed. “Sure, you can.”

My eyes flashed. “You don’t believe me?”

“Princess—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“ Emery. Be real. You are, like, the perfect woman. Perfect face, perfect tits, perfect ass…you’re the whole package. You don’t have to do anything because you already have everything. Why not just enjoy it?”

He leaned in to try to kiss me, but I pulled away, arms crossed.

Tucker sat back, facing forward. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Your dad loves me, you know.”

“So?”

“I’m just saying, if you’re holding out on me because you think he’d be pissed, he won’t.” He glanced at me sideways. “Unless there’s some weird purity thing going on?”

“Ugh, gross. Can we please just go?”

Tucker hit the ignition and spoke over the roar of the truck. “I’m just saying, Em. I have needs. A guy can be happy with appetizers only for so long before he needs a real meal. That’s just science.”

Science. The word instantly conjured Xander Ford. Because of course it did. My default setting. I should be my own default setting, and yet…

Tucker was frustrated, but so was I. Xander Ford was frustrating as hell, in ways I couldn’t explain, even to myself. Thinking about him made me mad and warm and irritated and like I wanted to laugh, all at the same time.

We’re just friends, I thought, trying to hold onto the irritation. But I had to turn my face to the window so Tucker wouldn’t see my smile.

***

Castle Hill Lighthouse perched on the western tip of the peninsula—the toe of the boot—and was abandoned a long time ago.

The lighthouse keeper’s house had taken on a mythical, haunted status, and many people had tried and failed over the years to break in and climb up the tower.

I don’t know who started it, but building a ginormous bonfire became the tradition: a new beacon of light while the old one stood rotting.

By the time Tucker pulled into the beach parking lot, the fire was roaring.

A burst of orange and yellow against a dark sky full of stars, with the ocean beyond.

A fat moon hung low in the sky, leaving a golden trail in the black water.

At least a hundred students were camped on the grassy dunes of coarse, white sand, some with chairs and blankets, others standing in groups.

Others, mostly guys, threw broken crates, driftwood, and beer packaging into the flames.

Tucker spotted some friends near the fire.

“There’s Brent and Rory. Be right back, babe,” he said and jogged to greet his bros.

I saw Delilah and Sierra talking with some people.

I contemplated letting loose and getting wasted; there were coolers full of hard tea and beer on the side of the bonfire.

But I wasn’t much of a drinker, and I’d hardly had anything to eat.

If I got wasted, Tucker would get lucky. At least mostly.

I wasn’t hung up on sex, no matter what he might’ve thought. I just wanted…something more.

Something more was fast becoming my motto for this school year.

Instead of heading for Delilah and Sierra, I wandered among the groups, chatting briefly with a few people but still looking, though I wasn’t sure who or what I was looking for.

And then I found Xander.

He stood with Dean Yearwood and Harper on the outer edge of the bonfire.

They were all holding bottles of beer, and Dean was regaling them with some story that made them laugh.

Harper and Xander looked good together. They made sense.

Not like him and me, which was ridiculous anyway.

He was a genius, and I was going to be Barbie for Halloween.

I turned up the hood of my pink sweatshirt and kept wandering until I found myself at the side of the lighthouse keeper’s house—boarded and locked up.

I sat down on a bench that faced the ocean and took it in.

Students walked by now and then, but mostly people left me alone.

It felt nice being alone. Thoughts of Grant came to me.

I wondered if he’d ever sat here during his senior year.

If he worried about how to break away from Dad’s plans and be himself too.

He must have, I thought, listening to the ocean’s little roars and hisses and missing him.

After a while, Xander appeared, beer bottle still in hand. He wore jeans, an old jacket, and ratty Converse, his tall frame lean with muscle. But then, everyone was tall to me.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked in a quiet tone.

“Not at all,” I said, smiling because I realized I came to this bench to be alone, and Xander was the only person I wanted to be alone with.

“Would you like something to drink? I can get you a beer or something.”

“No, thank you.” I nodded at the vast black ocean under the vast black sky. “It’s pretty out here, isn’t it?” I scooted over on the bench. “Here. Sit.”

“Thanks.” Xander sat down next to me.

Like being on our rock with him again…

The bench was small, and our arms touched along the lengths of his jacket and my sweatshirt. His denim-clad thigh brushed mine. Little tingles and shivers ran over my skin at all those junctures, but I told myself I was just cold.

“I heard you kicked ass at the row tryouts,” I said.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I made any friends, your boyfriend among them.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m going to take his buddy’s seat on the crew.”

“Quite confident about that, aren’t you?” I teased.

Xander shrugged one shoulder. “The coach seems to know what he’s doing; it would be stupid not to give it to me. Orion and I make a good bow pair.”

“What’s a bow pair?”

“First and second seat on the shell, responsible for stability and…” He waved a hand. “We don’t have to talk about rowing.”

“I think it’s interesting,” I said. “You’re good at rowing, but you’re also good at math and physics and everything else.”

“I wouldn’t say everything else,” Xander said. “All of the social stuff still feels alien.”

“You’re doing all right.”

“Am I? There’s a common perception that people with extremely high IQs struggle with social connection.”

“But it’s not true?”

“No, it’s completely true.”

I laughed and nudged his arm. “Be serious.”

“It’s true in my case, anyway.” He turned his gaze to me. “But someone once told me I just needed to practice at a regular school.” He took a sip of beer. “What about you? How is your senior year going?”

I smiled dryly. “You mean aside from needing constant math tutoring so my dad doesn’t disown me? Great.”

“And if you pass calculus?”

“I’ll go to Brown. That will make him happy.”

Xander frowned. “What about what makes you happy? Imagine you’re on a precipice, looking out over your future. What do you see?”

I made a face. “You’re awfully philosophical for a scientist.”

“Physics is founded on philosophy. Before there were labs or telescopes or calculus classes, there were ideas.”

“Oh, that’s right. It’s one of your three degrees,” I teased.

“Yes, but we’re talking about you, remember?” he said gently.

My smile faded. “There’s not much to say.

When I look out over the precipice, so to speak, I just see the future my dad has planned for me.

It’s like a cold, gray canyon filled with all the luxury and security I could possibly want, but I don’t see myself in it anywhere.

” I gave Xander a look. “Didn’t we talk about this the other day? ”

“Yes, but I wonder if…”

“What?”

“No, it’s too personal,” he said. “Or…rude. I don’t know how to be anything but blunt and direct.”

“Just the facts, eh? Go ahead. I can take it.”

Xander heaved a breath. “This is your life, Emery. I wonder if maybe you don’t know that it belongs to you and not to your father.”

A defensive retort came to my lips but then died.

I turned and faced the ocean. “My entire life, I’ve been trained to know my place in the family and to do what’s expected of me.

To go to the college Dad wants and date the boy he needs me to date…

I mean, I go out with Tucker, and I don’t even question it.

I just… obey, and at the same time, I’m desperate to make my dad proud and to hear, just once, that he loves me.

” I glanced up. “That’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it? ”

“It’s not pathetic. It’s all you’ve known,” he said. “And it’s daunting to break out of rigid family structures.”

“It’s downright terrifying,” I said. “If you met my dad, you’d see why.”

Xander grimaced, almost angry. “Maybe it would help to spend some time visualizing what you want instead.”

“Like, manifesting?” I grinned. “How unscientific of you.”

“More like counterprogramming,” he said. “Pretend for a minute that that future doesn’t exist and you get to make one yourself. What does it look like?”

I inhaled the cold salt air and closed my eyes.

“I see myself far away from my house. Far from Rhode Island. At UCLA, like my teacher suggested. I see a sunny drafting room and me sketching and designing and making someone’s home beautiful.

And not super-wealthy megahouses but cozy, safe spaces. Homes.”