Page 19 of Sunrises & Salvation

HUNTER

U gh!

I mentally scream while Danielle and I sit in my bedroom. She’s catching up on some reading for her class while I try to plan out my next release for my bookmarks. But my mind won’t focus, no matter how hard I stare at my screen and refuse any distractions, there’s one major one.

I let him kiss me. I let Adam, Danielle’s boyfriend, kiss me.

I should have told him no when he gave me the chance, multiple chances at that.

I’m selfish and a horrible friend. The press of his lips against mine was sudden and startling, but it felt amazing, as much as I hate to admit it.

My first ever kiss was taken by a man I should not have even been in that scenario with.

On my birthday; the one day I hate the most will always be connected to my first kiss.

I risk a glance at Danielle, with her head down and her messy red hair framing her face. She must feel my eyes on her because she looks up and smiles.

“How’s it coming?”

“As good as it can, I guess.” I need to tell her; I need to get this information out in the open so she can hate me now, and that would just be the cherry on top of this already messed up day.

“Cool. I’m starving though, do you want a snack? I still have all that stuff we bought from the store we didn’t eat yesterday.” She sets her book down and goes to the plastic bags she put on my nightstand.

“I’m okay.” If I eat anything now, I’m going to throw up.

“Your loss.” She shrugs her shoulders and pulls out a pack of Sour Skittles and comes to sit on the edge of the bed beside my desk.

“You should do book boxes, too,” she suggests, peering over my shoulder at the blank screen in front of me.

“I don’t know if I have enough time to do all that…” I trail off, dragging over an outline that I sketched of flowers and resting it along the bottom to at least make it look like I’m trying to be productive.

“Well, I can help you when I’m not busy with school.

Think about it. You could make bookmarks that match the vibes of the books.

” It’s not a horrible idea, but I can’t do that now because she gave me the idea, and I’m going to repay her by saying I let her boyfriend kiss me in the woods while she was waiting for us at the pond.

“Maybe. I’ll have to see what all goes into it.” Letting the sentence die, I go back to formatting the pictures I want to create, but an idea is forming in my head. Matching bookmarks to books is a genius idea, and it could bring attention to authors who aren’t normally picked.

She goes back to reading, filling the silence with her smacking on the sour candy. It’s relaxing in a way, because it feels like nothing has changed.

I don’t have to tell her, right? It’s not my fault that Adam kissed me; it’s all his. He’s the one who owes Danielle loyalty. But as her friend, I also owe her loyalty.

God, this is all a disaster. A cataclysmic storm, leaving nothing but devastation in its wake.

My mom yells at us forty minutes later, telling us to start getting ready so we can leave on time to make it to our reservation.

The Spot is a local rarity. The food is delicious, and it’s cheap. But what makes it fun is the inside. It’s an eighteen-and-up arcade, filled to the brim with a variety of pinball machines, old-school shootout games, and TVs with different gaming systems.

We tried to go last year for my birthday, but it was completely booked for the night.

So it was smart thinking on my mom’s part to book a reservation.

She and Dad used to always go because it reminded them of when they first started dating.

Their first few dates were at an old-school arcade, and they always looked forward to the day they could experience it with me.

If only I had given them more of a heads up that other people were coming.

It’s fine, it’s going to be fun. Adam and Danielle are going to do whatever couples do, and so will my parents. And I’ll be playing Mario Kart on the TV by myself. Really, what more could I ask for on my birthday?

Danielle leaves me in my room to go get ready in the bathroom. I obsess over my outfit, and I’m not sure why. I have no one to impress, even if there are going to be people that I know. Nobody is going to take a second look at me. No one ever does.

Walking out of my room, I tug down the edge of my black polo.

I could have tucked it into my dark jeans, but I thought that would make me look like a suburban dad instead of a nineteen- year-old celebrating their birthday.

The black Converse on my feet are the only things that don’t make me feel like a phony.

“You guys ready?” I come around the corner of the hallway and see my mom and Adam sitting at the kitchen table with albums spread out in front of them. My childhood photo albums. “What are you doing?” My voice is higher than it needs to be, embarrassment flooding my veins.

“I was just showing Adam some pictures. He asked what you were like as a kid.” My mom doesn’t look at me, instead, she flips the page to the next collection of pictures. “And here, we set up the sprinkler in the yard, and instead of running through it, he kept drinking out of it.”

“I was like five, Mom. You should have prevented me from doing that. Lead poisoning is real.”

“He was such a cute kid, but he’s handsome now,” Adam remarks to my mom, and my face heats. The compliment sinks in and makes a home in my heart. I shouldn’t care how he thinks I look.

But when he looks over his shoulder, his eyes appraise me, taking in my full outfit. I preen under his attention.

My dad decides to join in when he comes in from the garage.

“That’s my favorite picture of him.” His thick fingers press against the protective sheet covering the photo.

“His mom bought him that book, and he refused to do anything without it. That book went everywhere with us.” His tone is nostalgic, and I realize I haven’t changed much since I was a kid. Emotional support books then and now.

“What book was it?” Adam asks, curiosity lining his face. His blue eyes stare me down, making me flush harder under his attention.

“Where the Wild Things Are,” I murmur, walking closer to examine the books with them. If I see one embarrassing picture, I’m taking the album and hiding it so they can’t look through it anymore.

“I’ve never read it.”

I stand between him and my mom, not because I want to be close to him, but because this is the best place to be able to see the pictures. His freshly washed hair is damp, the longer strands on top starting to curl the slightest bit.

“You should read it, it’s a classic.”

“We still have it here somewhere, but not the copy he carried around because he lost it one day at the zoo. He refused to carry the replacement, he knew it wasn’t his, ” my mom says, scooting back from our kitchen table and going in search of the book.

“You can tell her no,” I say quietly, not wanting my dad to hear me from where he’s sitting across the table, reading something on his phone.

“Why would I tell her no?”

“Because it’s a kids’ book, and I don’t know if you’ve looked in the mirror lately, but you’re not a child,” I snark, stepping closer to the table again, against my will.

My body is demanding I be around him, that’s all it is.

My body wanted to be close to this hot guy who just had his lips on mine a few hours ago.

“I’m not a kid, no. But I didn’t have the same experiences that normal kids did. Is it a bad thing that I want to know what your childhood was like?”

He can’t say things like that, things that make me feel bad for him and want to know exactly what happened when he was a child to make him the way he is today. Was it his father’s death? Sometimes grief can be a hard thing to process.

My heart breaks for the little boy inside Adam who wants a normal childhood and is even willing to go as far as to listen to my mom as she talks about what I was like. And the pictures of me as a child… Those are embarrassing, but if it makes him feel better, I guess I can allow it.

“I’ll read it to you,” I offer, because my mom used to read it to me before bed every night. He might think it’s dumb and childish, but maybe this will help him.

Then he won’t feel the need to be horrible to other people, including his girlfriend. But not me, though. I mean, he was horrible to me, but a switch inside him seems to have flipped because the man in front of me now is not the same one from yesterday.

I should hate it and hate him. I told him I never wanted to see him again after this weekend, but what if he really needs a friend, and that’s why he’s acting this way?

I can fix him. I can’t offer much, but I can be nice and helpful and supportive. That’s all a friendship should be. After everyone goes to bed tonight, we’ll talk about our boundaries.

“Okay, here it is, Adam. I really hope you enjoy it. My parents used to read it to me, so it was important to share that with Hunter. I’m glad we can share it with you as well.” My mom extends the book in her hand toward Adam, and he grabs the edge of it, tucking it in close to his chest.

“I’ll cherish it, Mrs. Collins.” My mom waves her hand around.

“None of that. Mrs. Collins was my mother-in-law. Call me Cheryl.” Adam smiles, and my mom leans down to wrap Adam in a side hug.

Was I transported to an alternate universe?

Why is my mom hugging him, and why am I getting jealous because I want to be the one to hold him and comfort him? Even if that isn’t my place.

My dad stands up, slapping his hands on his knees and announcing to the group that it’s time to leave.

“We’re still waiting on Danielle,” I speak up, while Adam leaves the book on the pillow he slept on last night. The slight divot from his head is still visible.

“I’m ready,” Danielle says, coming around the corner looking cute and casual in a floral-printed crop top and ripped, black skinny jeans. Her hair is tucked back into a braid, showing off her elvish features—her cute button nose, and slightly pointed ears.

We all pile into the car, with me sitting in the center between Danielle and Adam, and the forced proximity is uncomfortable. I can feel the heat from Adam’s body seeping into me through the contact of our thighs pressing together. His fingers are in his lap, drumming out a random rhythm.

“Are you okay sitting back here? We can drive separately from my parents,” I offer, looking at Danielle. Her attention is focused out the window.

“No, I’m okay. It’s not far, is it?” she asks.

“No, maybe like ten to fifteen minutes.”

“She’ll survive,” Adam says, reaching across me to poke Danielle in the ribcage. She glares at him, the tension in the car skyrocketing. Well, this is going to get awkward fast if they can’t get along.

Danielle looks up front at my parents, who are too focused on talking about their plans for next weekend to notice anything askew in the backseat.

She slaps his hand away, and the force causes his palm to land on my upper thigh.

I gulp, feeling the electricity from him coursing into me. He doesn’t move his hand. Why is he not moving his hand?

He squeezes my thigh; the tight grip has me sweating in my seat. My dick throbs in my jeans, and I’m glad that I chose these pants instead of the soft dress pants that were hanging in my closet.

I can’t look at him. If I look at him, I’ll do something stupid like let him kiss me. Again. His girlfriend and my friend sitting beside us be damned.