Chasing the Sun Read online

  I glance at my phone as it buzzes again. Hopefully that’s starting to change.

  She waits a beat longer, then steps into the hall.

  Ignoring the twinge of regret that hits me when she leaves, I scroll through the texts on my lock screen.

  Yoshi: my princess, tell me ur not sitting home tonight

  Sage: ::blush::

  Yoshi: me and Rick are at the pit

  Yoshi: everyone misses u

  Sage: it must suck starting a new school senior year

  My thumb hovers over their messages as I decide who to reply to first. I go with Sage.

  Me: it’s not great

  Sage: and Kit’s the only person you know

  Me: he’s been cool

  The little dots bounce while she types, then disappear, then start up again like she’s changing her reply.

  Sage: I guess he can be nice when he tries

  From what I know of Kit, he’s the kind of guy who tries too hard to make people think he doesn’t care. I doubt we’d be friends in a different circumstance, but right now he’s all I’ve got.

  And Sage is clearly not a fan.

  Me: Is that why you’re not going?

  Sage: maybe a little

  Me: I’m hurt

  Sage: I don’t even know you. what if you’re as bad as he is?

  Me: ouch

  Me: I promise we’re nothing alike

  Sage: well Theo’s cool. he balances Kit’s Kitness

  I’d picked up on that in the group text but it’s nice to have my suspicions confirmed.

  Me: good to know

  I take a deep breath and switch to Yoshi. He’s the only friend from home who’s made a point to text every day. Me leaving probably affected him more than anyone else and it feels good to know someone misses me. But I can’t blame the others. I’ve heard from a few people, but I left the day after the funeral and since it was already summer break, I slipped out of town and out of their lives without a goodbye.

  Me: for your information Luigi, this princess is going to a party this week

  In addition to Starlord, Yoshi also calls me Princess Peach. He hates that he has the same name as one of the Super Mario characters, and when we were kids, he claimed Luigi. Since no one else was allowed to be Yoshi and Rick claimed Mario, I somehow ended up with Princess Peach. Now I can’t escape it.

  Yoshi: good for you man

  Yoshi: any girls there

  Me: none that I know

  More like none that I care about. This girl Tara who’s been borderline stalking me since I moved here will probably be there. She lives in the neighborhood and our moms are friends, and if they had their way we’d be a couple before school started.

  Yoshi: dude it’s been forever since j

  Me: who’s at the pit?

  Yoshi: the usual. rick says hi

  He ignores my deflection and tells me what I want to hear. About my friends from another life and the stupid but hilarious physical challenges they make up to pass the time. The pit is an old gravel quarry that’s nothing to look at, but it has wide open spaces and plenty of ways for us to almost hurt ourselves.

  Had.

  Past life.

  Now I’ve got a bonfire with a bunch of strangers and the one person I want to see won’t be there.

  3

  Sage

  “This shouldn’t be such a hard decision.” Naomi’s staring at the menu board of the café, arms crossed, brows furrowed.

  I’ve already ordered my chocolatey coffee drink and am waiting at the end of the counter, trying to be patient. The café is tucked in a corner of my favorite bookstore and I’m itching to start browsing. “Go with caramel. It always makes you happy.”

  “Good call.” She places her order and joins me. “How can you be so decisive about some things but not others?”

  I raise a brow.

  “Coffee. Done. Bonfire. Done. Deciding to put yourself out there for a boy who seems really nice…” She waggles her hands and scrunches her lips. “That not so much.”

  My toe rubs against a crack in the tile floor. “You know why.”

  “I do, but I don’t agree with it.”

  “Sah-gee?”

  It takes me a moment to realize the barista means me. “It’s Sage,” I say. “One syllable.”

  He shrugs and sets my no-whip, all chocolate mocha on the counter.

  I take a sip and the sweetness sweeps over my tongue, making me forget everything else. Today’s going to be a good day—as long as Naomi doesn’t pressure me to change my mind about the bonfire.

  “You really won’t change your mind?” Naomi asks.

  I choke on my mocha, spraying the counter with coffee splatter. The barista gives me a dirty look and I quickly grab a napkin to wipe it up. “About the bonfire? No.” I take another sip and fight off a cough. “Since when do you want to hang out with Kit, anyway?”

  The barista sets down Naomi’s drink with a smile and she smiles back before taking a sip. Eyes closed, she exhales slowly. “I don’t want to hang out with Kit, thank you very much.” She opens her eyes and gestures at the wide expanse of the store. I follow as she keeps talking. “He’s at the house so much I don’t get the chance to miss him. But a bonfire could be fun. And I’m curious about the new guy.”

  She watches me out of the corner of her eye and I pretend to be interested in a travel guide to Botswana.

  “Don’t tell me you’re not a tiny bit curious.”

  Yes, part of me would like to meet the guy who’s been texting me for the past several days. Our conversations haven’t gone beyond basic interests and that kind of thing, but he’s really easy to talk to and I miss that. “I would like to know what he looks like.”

  She stops in the middle of the aisle, one palm up. “Hold up. You haven’t exchanged pics?”

  Heat creeps up my cheeks.

  “I’m not saying to text him nudes, but you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  My fingers wind through my shoulder-length hair. Not blond, not brown, just blah. “I don’t know. We thought it’d be fun to get to know each other without the added pressure of appearances.”

  “Whose idea was it?”

  “Mine.”

  “If he stalks you, he’s only gonna see that ridiculous sage plant you insist on using as a profile pic.”

  My smile drops and everything inside me chills. I’ve gotten so used to that picture that it hadn’t occurred to me to change it, but if I truly want to take my life back, that’s a good place to start.

  Naomi’s walking again and doesn’t notice how her words affect me. She pauses near the self-help section. “Can I catch up to you in a few?”

  “Sure.” I continue upstairs to the young adult section and shake off my unease. Pax and I broke up. There’s no reason for him to still have any kind of effect on me. I skim the new releases, trying to get lost in their promise to magically transport me to another world. The question is, which one? Mom and Dad fully support my reading habit, but my allowance is only enough for one or two books per month.

  I pull out my phone and send a text.

  Me: fairies or shapeshifters?

  Neb: are these party guests or

  A little spark flares inside me. Every time I’ve texted first, he’s replied almost immediately. Which could have more to do with his lack of a social life than an interest in me, but still. He hasn’t pressured me about the bonfire since the first day he texted me privately, and I get a tiny thrill that he’s subtly hinting at it now.

  Me: books

  Neb: ahh, then shapeshifters

  Juggling my drink, I tuck the book against my chest and start to type out a reply with one hand when a deep voice behind me turns me cold.

  “I would have gone fairies.” Pax leans against the shelf, his casual smile doing nothing to mask the calculating look in his dark eyes. Day-old stubble shadows his olive skin and I’m torn between the impulse to stroke his cheek and bash his face into the shelf.
The sharp angles of his face used to turn me into a dreamy schoolgirl, but now the feelings churning through me leave me frozen in place.

  I somehow find my tongue. “Yeah, well, I’m in the mood for shapeshifters.” My voice isn’t as strong as I’d like, but my back straightens and I clutch the book tighter, like if I loosen my grip he might tear it from me. “And last time I checked, you lost your right to tell me what to do when we broke up.” I can almost hear Naomi cheering over the nausea bubbling inside me.

  His eyes narrow and he pushes off the shelf. When my phone dings with a text, his hand flinches like he wants to grab it to see who’s texting. The way he used to.

  I take a step back, hating myself for showing he still has power over me.

  “What are you doing here?” Naomi’s voice is sharp, each word punctuated with the anger she’s yet to take out on him. I turn to her at the end of the row. She’s like a beacon saving me from the danger lying beneath Pax’s smug smile.

  “You haven’t replied to my email,” he says, his focus on me.

  Naomi joins me, her shoulder pressed lightly against mine. “Don’t you have a puppy to kick or something?”

  His head tilts slightly and his jaw ticks. But if she struck a nerve, he doesn’t react. Not to her. He moves into my space and it’s like that movement, that closing of distance between us, sucks the air from my lungs and with it, any fight lingering within me. A tremble starts in my hands and works its way through my body. My arm tightens around the book, the sharp corners digging into my chest, and the ice in my cup rattles. He’s waiting for a response but my words crumble to dust in my throat.

  Naomi steps between us. They’re almost the same height and she glares into his eyes with the force of a thousand warriors. “I’m calling security if you don’t leave. Now.”

  He finally looks at Naomi. “I’m just talking to her.”

  She shakes her head, red curls shaking like a halo of flames, and doesn’t back down. “I don’t care.”

  They stare at each other for a half second that lasts an eternity, then he drops his gaze and rubs a hand over his arm. Takes a step back. Looks at me. “Just write me back, okay?” There’s a tenderness in his voice that reaches through my panic to the place in my heart that forgives him. That wants him back. That wishes it could change the way things ended.

  And I hate myself for it.

  At least I don’t answer. But he sees the uncertainty in my eyes and gives me the smile he used to save for after. When the yelling stopped and he loved me again.

  “Seriously,” Naomi says. “Leave.”

  He finally turns away. He only looks back once as he heads for the exit.

  Naomi pulls me into a hug and exhales against my neck. “You know I don’t condone violence, but I really wish I could permanently remove that asshole from your life.”

  My body relaxes against hers and my eyes close, shutting out the bookstore. Not many people know what I went through with Pax—definitely not my parents—and having someone unconditionally on my side makes me feel a little less alone. A little less hopeless.

  “Are you okay?” Naomi asks.

  I nod against her shoulder. “I need a minute.” As if a minute will calm the emotions that resurfaced with his appearance.

  “How did he even know you were here?”

  My eyes open and I take a sip of my watered-down mocha. “I’ve stopped trying to understand how or why he does the things he does.”

  She nods, eyes on mine. “That’s smart. Keep doing that. Or not doing that.” Her finger runs along the spine of the book in my arm. “I’ve heard this is good.”

  “You’re not into fantasy.”

  “No, but you are, and you keep saying how much you want to read it. If anyone deserves to escape this reality, it’s you.”

  “Thanks?”

  She wanders away from me, scanning the shelves. “You know what I mean. The less time you spend thinking about Asston, the better.” I roll my eyes at her preferred nickname for my ex. She spins on her heel and gives me a smile that makes me take a step back.

  “What?”

  “You really won’t consider the Neb thing?”

  “I’m too screwed up to date.”

  “We’re all screwed up in one way or another. The only thing you can do is not repeat the same mistakes.”

  “Three Good Things About Dating a Narcissist?”

  She sips her drink and nods. “Exactly.”

  We leave the bookstore an hour later—me with the shapeshifter book and Naomi with a book on podcasts—and I still haven’t replied to Neb. I pull out my phone while Naomi drives us home. There are several texts about nothing, and the last one makes my heart sink.

  Neb: well anyway, I hope you have a good day. talk soon

  I could make up a lie about my phone dying, but I don’t want whatever this is to start off on the wrong foot. Even if I’m sure he’s only being nice.

  Me: sorry! we got talking and I spaced. have fun tonight!

  Neb: spaced. ha

  I send a smiley face and feel a twinge of guilt for not going to the bonfire. There was a moment when we first got our drinks that I might have been convinced to go, but Pax ruined that.

  Like he ruins everything.

  4

  Neb

  Kit and a guy with black hair and a wicked sunburn are standing over a smoldering smoke bomb when I arrive in Kit’s backyard. Three logs the size of my thighs sit on a pile of embers that look left over from another fire. Kit’s got a bandana tied over his close-cropped afro and is studying a bottle of lighter fluid like it holds the answers to the universe.

  “Need some help?” I ask. I don’t want to overstep, but if this is their plan, there won’t be a fire tonight.

  Kit glances at me, shoulders tense. At least there’s no one else here to witness this.

  “You can start fires?” Sunburn asks, stroking his chin.

  I join them next to the fire pit. “I’ve been camping since I was the size of those logs.”

  Sunburn nods at Kit. “Hand over the lighter fluid.”

  Kit rolls his eyes and hands it to me, but I shake him off. “Do you have any kindling? Small twigs and branches. And maybe some newspaper?”

  “I’ll go look.” He heads toward the house and unease twists in my gut.

  “I’m Neb.”

  “Theo.” He holds out his hand and I shake it. He’s shorter than me, with green eyes that crinkle when he smiles.

  “He’s not mad, is he?”

  Theo kicks at one of the logs. “Not at you. He’s pissed he couldn’t get the fire started. And I’m useless with all things outdoorsy.”

  “These logs will never burn like this.” I grab one and my hands slip. “How much of that bottle did he use?”

  “All of it?”

  I toss the logs to the side and wipe my hands in the grass. “Do you think he has an axe?”

  Theo raises a brow. “What, are you gonna play lumberjack?”

  I smirk. “Just trying to help.”

  Kit returns with a pile of newspapers and dumps them at our feet. “There’s probably branches around the yard.”

  “He wants an axe,” Theo says, biting his lip.

  Kit points at a door to the garage. “If you can find it…”

  They gather sticks while I poke through Kit’s garage, and when I return they’ve got a decent pile next to the newspapers.

  “Can you bunch up some of the paper? Not too tight, then start a pile in the fire pit.” I stand a log on its end and roll up the sleeves of my flannel.

  “Oh, he really is playing lumberjack,” Theo whispers loud enough for me to hear.

  I can’t tell if his teasing is friendly, but that doesn’t change the fact that these logs need to be split. Kit busies himself setting up chairs and dragging a cooler closer to the fire, while Theo watches me swing the axe. The blade slices clean through on the first try and I fight a smile. I’m not trying to show off but I’m really glad I didn’t mi
ss.

  “So you just know how to do this?” Theo asks.

  “My dad taught me. We used to camp a lot.” The ‘used to’ almost gets caught in my throat. I rest the axe on the ground and wipe my forehead with the back of my hand.

  “Kit told me,” he says. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Thanks.”

  He nods at the wood. “I’d offer to help but…”

  “You’re good. This won’t take much longer.”

  I’m starting on the last log when giggles drift into the backyard.

  “Kit didn’t tell us there’d be entertainment,” Tara practically purrs as she walks toward me. Her low-cut tank top and shorts that barely cover her butt seem ridiculous for a fire, especially since it’s already getting cold, but at least she has a sweatshirt hanging over her purse. “This is Ariana. Ariana, this is Neb. The guy I told you about.”

  Ariana gives a little wave and smiles. “Nice to meet you.” On the surface, she and Tara have a lot in common. Same clothes, same long dark hair—although Tara’s paler than I am—but Ariana doesn’t look at me like she’s planning something.

  “You might wanna step back,” I say, holding up the axe.

  Tara slides her arm through Ariana’s and licks her lower lip. “Don’t let us stop you.”

  “Tara, leave the guy alone!” Kit shouts from the edge of the yard. He’s carrying a pile of branches, some longer than my arm, and shakes his head. “We can’t have a fire until he’s done.”

  “Come on,” Ariana says, tugging on Tara’s arm. “Let’s pick the best seats.”

  By the time I finish and get the fire going, more people have arrived. They fist bump and head nod as they settle around the fire, and before long, it feels like a party. I sink into a chair and memories of last summer flood through me. Of Jennie and Yoshi and the rest of our friends sitting around countless campfires until the last embers burned out. None of them were into astronomy like I am, but they listened to my stories about the constellations and knew about the solar eclipse in a couple weeks. The eclipse that I’ve been planning to see for as long as I can remember.