Impossible (13 page)

The door slammed shut behind me and I stomped into the kitchen where Mom was sitting with this smug expression on her face. She glanced up as I slammed the lemonade down on the counter.

“The cute guy mowing our lawn drank a lot of lemonade,” she remarked in a light tone as she folded up her newspaper and set it aside. I didn’t bother mentioning that I’d spilt half of it on my way back inside.

“Mom!” I raged. “You knew it was him and you sent me outside on purpose! I can’t stand him—he’s so full of himself!”

“Keep it down, your brother’s still sleeping,” Mom warned. “And I sent you out there because I think, and Mrs. Byron agrees, that the two of you avoiding each other is getting ridiculous. You grew up together, you played together, and now you’re acting like complete strangers. One of you has to make the first move or you’re going to regret it one day. You were so important to each other once upon a time and you can have that again. Let go of whatever’s holding you back.”

As usual, Mom was bang on with her weekly lecture about me and Luca. Didn’t she get that we had nothing in common? We couldn’t even have a conversation without biting each other’s heads off and getting into a fight. We completely rubbed each other the wrong way.

Before I could say anything, the doorbell rang and Mom motioned towards the front door. “Go and see who that is and, if it’s Luca, let him in. I want to thank him for helping out.”

“Yes, Mom,” I said, knowing very well that it probably was Luca. Who else would be at the door this early in the morning? I made my way down the hallway and opened up the door, and, like I’d assumed, Luca was standing outside with his shirt still tucked into the back of his jeans. Sigh.

Oh no. I’d just sighed in my thoughts. Not cool, definitely not cool. I tried to look as annoyed as possible. “What is it?”

Luca smirked with those full lips of his. “I’m finished. Tell your mom…”

“Tell her yourself!” I snapped and, leaving the door wide open, walked back into the kitchen. I’d been hoping that Luca wouldn’t follow me, but he was only a few steps behind me as I turned around.

“Hi, Ms. Summers, I’m done cutting the grass. Just thought I’d let you know.” Luca said in a polite tone I didn’t recognize.

Mom stood up, a warm smile on her face. “Thank you so much, Luca. Let me give you some money for your trouble.”

“No, no, please don’t,” Luca said with a shake of his head. “I was going to cut our grass anyway and I noticed how long yours had gotten. Really, it’s not a big deal. I was happy to do it.” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Luca watching me.

Tossing my head, I leaned against the kitchen counter with my arms crossed, silently fuming. What a complete suck up. He acted like he was so sweet and innocent when I knew otherwise. The guy couldn’t be any more arrogant.

“That’s so kind of you,” Mom said, beaming. “Isn’t it, Ash?” I grumbled in response and stared up at the ceiling instead of at Luca’s pecs.

“Don’t worry about it, Ms. Summers.”

“So, I like the new style, Luca. Ash was saying how good it makes you look.”

Oh. My. God. This was a bad dream. There was no way my mom could be that embarrassing, was there? I couldn’t believe Mom would do that to me. I was mortified. I was horrified. Death couldn’t come swiftly enough.

Luca laughed, and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. “I better get going, Ms. Summers. Thanks for the lemonade.” He paused. “Bye, Ashy.”

When I heard the front door shut, I whirled on my mother in frustration. “Did you have to mention that last bit? Now he’s going to think that I like him!”

Mom put the lemonade in the fridge and then rinsed out Luca’s glass. “And why shouldn’t you like him? He looks pretty fine.”

“Mom, that is so gross.” The last thing I wanted to hear was my 36-year-old mother telling me how attractive she found Luca.

Mom shut off the tap and turned to me with a teasing smile. “Hey, the boy grew up
nice
. I can appreciate that.” I knew she was saying most of this to get a reaction out of me, but I was still annoyed. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was annoyed about, but the feeling was still there.

“Mom, don’t you have some work to do? Your editor needs those revisions done by next week.” I said with a frown. “I’ll make Blaze breakfast when he gets up.”

“Yes, mother,” she said with a roll of her eyes, heading towards her office. “I’ll see you at lunch time. Love you baby.”

At least she was acting warmer towards me. Maybe Luca had thawed her out a little.

“Love you.”

When I heard the door to the office shut, I bolted to the sink, nearly tripping over the kitchen table in my haste. I watched as Luca mowed his lawn, and openly drank in the sight of his sweaty, tanned body. Without anyone to witness me, I stared for a very long time, imagining what it would feel like to run my fingers over the firmness of those muscles.

As I stood there, Mom’s words came back to me.

One of you has to make the first move.

Her words resonated with me, and a plan began to formulate itself in my mind. I smiled to myself as Luca finally headed back inside.

My mom would be very happy to know that I was about to make that first move.

Luca

The most amazing smell overcame my senses as I climbed out of bed on Sunday. Momma must be baking today. When Dad had been alive she’d baked almost every day, but after he’d died she’d stopped completely. It wasn’t until the last couple of years that she’d slowly started up again. She’d never forget Dad, but it was nice to see her finally getting over his death.

Rubbing my eyes, I stumbled down the stairs as the smell grew stronger. The kitchen came into view and I stopped suddenly on the bottom step, hardly believing my eyes.

This was a dream. A very strange dream.

Ashton was standing in my kitchen looking up at me with amusement. She was wearing this blue mini dress that was incredibly short and left me gob smacked. And I was standing here in my silk boxers. God damn. I couldn’t exactly run back upstairs and put on some pants or a shirt. Besides, my momma had noticed me too.

“Luca,” Momma said with a smile, “come down and have some breakfast. Ashton’s been cooking with me.” Somehow, she managed to say the words naturally, as if Ashton came into our kitchen to bake every weekend when, in fact, it’d been seven years since she’d last helped Momma cook anything.

“Uh,” was all I managed to say as I sat down at the table and fiddled with the placemat. This was like an episode straight out of the Twilight Zone. Maybe body snatchers had come and replaced Ashton with a clone.

“Your momma and I made cheese scones,” Ashton said and set a plateful down in front of me. She then proceeded to pour me a glass of orange juice. Yep, Ashton had definitely been replaced with someone else.

I scrutinized the golden scones—the most amazing smell wafted from them and my mouth watered. But looks could be deceiving. Was it possible that she’d poisoned them? I wouldn’t put it past her.

I picked one up and sniffed it, but all I could smell was the scent of freshly baked goods. Casting, a suspicion glance at Ash, I bit into it. The scone was light and buttery and, within minutes, I’d devoured four of them. As I gulped down the glass of orange juice, I saw Momma run a hand through Ashton’s long hair.

“Such beautiful hair,” Momma remarked, and then nodded towards me, “Do you like Luca’s new hairstyle?” Oh, Momma, really? Was that necessary?

Ashton turned those sky blue eyes onto me, and I felt my insides melt a little. She cocked her head to the side as she studied me. “I think it suits him a lot, Mrs. Byron.”

“He looks so much like his father,” Momma said, smiling absently as she played with the dish towel. “Anyway, Ashton, didn’t you want to talk to Luca about something?”

I stared at her in surprise. Ashton had come here to talk to me? Had Hell frozen over and no one had told me about it? Ashton was the one who’d said that she wouldn’t be caught dead speaking to me, yet here she was. What about her precious reputation now? Sure, I’d gone over to her house to cut her grass, but I wasn’t ashamed to be seen with her.

Ashton took the bottle of orange juice off the table and walked over to the fridge with it. She bent over in that incredibly short dress of hers to put the orange juice away and, I swear to God, if my momma hadn’t been here, I would’ve done Ashton Summers on the kitchen table. I hated the girl, but she was so damn hot and there were so many things I wanted to do to her. Even if she did make me want to push her off a cliff most of the time.

“Yes, if that’s alright with Luca.” She fixed those blue eyes on me again and there was no way I could refuse. Those eyes could convince me to do almost anything for her.

“You can go up to Luca’s room,” Momma said in a pleasant tone. “You know, he moved back into his old room?” Seriously, I think sometimes Momma forgot that I was a teenage male. How she was alright with a girl going up to my room was beyond me, but whatever. I wasn’t complaining.

“Yes, I noticed,” Ash said with a polite smile.

We went up the stairs and I led her to my room, well aware that she was close behind me. I could’ve easily turned around and kissed her if I wanted, but I stopped myself. The first kiss I’d played off as a joke, but what excuse did I have to kiss her again? Besides, why was I thinking about kissing her?

We entered my room and I grabbed the closest t-shirt I could find and threw it on. It wasn’t like Ashton hadn’t seen me shirtless before—only yesterday, in fact—but something about her being in my room unnerved me.

When I looked around, I saw that Ash was sitting on my bed. For some reason, the very sight of her on my bed did crazy things to my head. Within seconds, I could have Ash lying on her back with me on top of her, but I had to push those thoughts away. There was no sense in thinking about things that were never going to happen. A kiss was plausible. Sex was out of the question.

“You’re right,” Ash said, nodding towards the window where her room was clearly visible. “It is a better view.”

“What’s with the nice girl act?” I asked, running a hand through my hair. “We all know you’re, like, Medusa.”

“Har har, very funny,” she said dryly and then began toying with my blanket. She seemed nervous about something. “I’ve been thinking…”

“That’s always a good sign.” I sat down on my desk chair and smirked.

“Will you cut it out? I’m trying to be serious here!” She took a deep breath as if to calm herself. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’ve…uh…taken a social tumble.”

“It was pretty hard not to miss.”

Ash acted like she hadn’t heard me and continued. “I tried to be friends with Kance, but that witch wants nothing to do with me. People I don’t even know hate me.”

Sighing, I stretched back against the chair and tried to look serious. “I’m surprised you even noticed that people exist outside of your circle.”

Ash seemed annoyed that I was making a joke out of her social crisis. “Luca, this is not funny. My entire high school social life is on the line here. I have to become popular again and get back on the squad. Years from now I don’t want to look back on my senior year as being a complete failure.”

I sighed, trying to understand what the big deal about being a cheerleader was. They jumped up and down waving around pom-poms and spouting some bullshit about school spirit. Even in a million years I’d never get it. “Does this really matter that much to you?”

“Do you really think I’d waste my breath talking to you if it didn’t?”

Jeez. She never let up the bitch attitude for a second. “What the hell does this have to do with me? Don’t you have girl friends for this kind of thing where you sit around and paint your toenails and whine about your lives? I’m not a girl or your friend, so what the hell do you want from me?”

“You’ve changed.” Her voice was so soft that I had to move forward in order to hear her. “People are going to notice you…in a good way.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” It was hard to believe that Ash had just paid me a compliment. The Twilight Zone music started up in my head again.

Ash’s gaze lowered and she stared fixated at the floor, like it was the most fascinating thing in the room. “Your hair, your clothes…why did you change them? There was obviously a reason.” She seemed almost embarrassed to admit that she’d noticed the change. Noticed and liked it.

Damn. What was she? My fucking therapist? Were we going to talk about my childhood next? “I got sick of hearing everyone call me a freak.”

“See!” She leaned forward eagerly. “You do understand. You want to fit in just like I do.”

“I don’t want to fit in…” I trailed off. I didn’t really know what I wanted, but it had something to do with what Ash had said to me the other night. She’d told me to look in the mirror and I had. Changing my appearance hadn’t changed my personality, so if little Miss Prissy was impressed by it, then she was about to be sorely disappointed. “…It was more of a screw you to you.”

Ash’s expression darkened and a scowl appeared on her pretty face. Her tough-as-nails persona pissed me off—I’d much rather the vulnerable Ash I’d seen in detention. “Do you have to be like that?”