I wake up on Saturday morning with newfound optimism. I'm not quite sure where it came from, but I decide to embrace it for the sake of my sanity. Since the summer started and I moved here, every day has been the same, the days starting to blend into each other.
Don't get me wrong, I love my family and I appreciate their love and support. I enjoy spending time with them, especially Drew. However, it would be nice if the friends I used to have would respond to the messages I've sent them.
I'm not mad about it. I wouldn't know what to say or how to act around me if I were them. Even so, I wouldn't avoid a friend I've had for years for no reason. It's okay, though, because I still have Lex. And Luca.
Something happens to my stomach the second the image of Luca passes through my mind. That's new. Not necessarily the feeling, but the person it is directed at. Luca and I are barely friends again and now my body is reacting to the mere thought of him? No.
I get for the day, pushing all thoughts of…well, everything out of my head and listening to music. It's almost 08:00, and I'm sure everyone in the house is already awake and having had breakfast, so that just leaves me.
By the time I make my way down the stairs, there's a commotion going on in our living room. Well, a very quiet commotion. Hushed tones, clearly an argument between the members of my family.
"She's not okay," I hear Nani say.
She?
"Of course she's not okay, Amma, she lost her parents," Khala Willa says.
Oh. She is me. That's nice.
I stay in the hallway, hidden from everyone, but close enough to be within earshot.
"Didi," Mausa Aarna chastises her sister. "That's not fair,"
"Not fair?" Khala Willa asks. "Aarna, we haven't lost our parents. We have no idea how she feels or what she's going through. And to have lost them in such a horrifying way," she trails off and I know she's shaking her head. "Perhaps you should try thinking about her,"
"That's what I'm doing. It's what Amma and I are trying to tell you," Mausa Aarna says. "Isolating herself from her friends and the people she grew up with isn't going to help her deal with her grief in a healthy way,"
"And the sweatshirts," Nani says. "When have you known Kieran to wear sweatshirts?"
Jeez. Would everyone just stop caring about the damn sweatshirts?
With a sigh, I walk into the room. "What's going on?" I ask. "Shouldn't I be a part of this conversation? I mean, if you're all discussing me, I should at least be made aware,"
"Kieran," Khala Willa says. "Honey, no one is discussing you,"
"Really?"
"We're worried, devadoot," Nani says. "You're not yourself,"
"Not going out means I'm not myself?" I question.
She gives me a look. "You should hang out with your friends more,"
"I work,"
"That never stopped you before,"
"Amma," Khala Willa scolds. "Stop it,"
Nani ignores her. "Kieran, why are you wearing sweatshirts in this heat? You do not have to hide your scars. They are a testament to how much you loved your parents, how much you would have done for them,"
I shake my head. "Nani, my scars haven't healed. My arms are bandaged. That's why I wear sweatshirts," I tell her.
Her face falls. "Oh."
"And I don't hang out with my friends because none of them have reached out since my parents died. Everyone knows I'm here, and no one has even sent me a message,"
No one says anything.
"I mean no disrespect, but the next time you all want to talk about me, ask before making assumptions about things you know nothing of," I say, taking a step back. "And seeing as how much you want me to be out with people, I'll be out for the day,"
"Kieran," Khala Willa says, stopping me. "I'm sorry. We didn't know about your friends,"
I nod. I don't think she has anything to apologize for. From what I heard of their little discussion, she was the only one not speaking down on me.
"It's fine. I'll be out of your hair,"
Pulling my phone from the pocket of my skirt, I dial Luca's number and bring the phone up to my ear.
"Yeah?" he says by way of greeting.
"Are you at home?"
"Kieran?"
"Yeah,"
He clears his throat. "Yes, I'm at home. What's up?"
"I'm coming over," I tell him. "I'll be there in five minutes,"
"Uh, okay, sure,"
I hang up and turn to Khala Willa. "I'll see everyone later,"
"Where are you going?" Nani asks.
"To Luca's," I tell her. "Khala, if Drew asks, tell him where I am, please,"
She nods, her features soft and apologetic. I want to tell her not to feel sorry for me, but that would be a wanted effort. She already does. So instead, I make my way back up the stairs and get my camera before running through the house and heading over to the Caldwells.
Ms. Caldwell opens the front door and grins when she sees me standing here.
"Kieran, good morning," she says. "What a nice surprise,"
"Good morning, Miss Caldwell,"
She opens the door and steps aside so I can enter. "Luke's in his room," she tells me. "You remember where it is, right?"
"Yes, thank you,"
It has been a long time since I've been in this house, but it looks the same as it always has. The photos of Luca and his aunt, sports trophies on the mantels, certificates pinned next to the photos on the walls.
Walking up the stairs feels oddly comforting. The memory of running up these stairs and banging on Luca's door when he took too long to meet me outside when we were kids is clear as day.
It also feels strange, because I haven't walked up these stairs in three summers. Telling myself that it's the same it's always been, I walk down the hall and knock on the door at the end of it. The first thing I see when the door opens are Luca's black slides and white socks. My eyes move up and then I'm staring at his bare chest.
My eyes widen of their own accord, my heart racing. I may have underestimated how much Lucas has grown over the last year. It catches me off guard, more than I'd like to admit. His body is chiseled like a work of art, all of him taut muscle.
Gone is the boy I grew up with. Before me stands a man with broad shoulders and the body most girls dream of. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I would think of Lucas Caldwell this way.
I avert my eyes from his chest and look up, finding him smirking down at me.
He cocks his head. "Like what you see?"
Heat rushes up my neck and face. Sakhad dakh.
I shake my head. "Are you going to invite me in?"
With a deep chuckle, he steps aside, letting me into the room. Keeping my eyes on anything that isn't him, I make my way to his desk. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I take a seat and stare at the wall.