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Then Roman’s lips open, and he follows along with his dad, his voice a bit raspy, even if it’s still smaller than his dad’s voice. The guttural passion in each word he sings sinks into my stomach and makes my chest twitch with emotion. I don’t know whether to cry or laugh.
Roman iseverything.
Nora notices me from the couch against the wall. It's covered by a crocheted blanket, something that my mom would make by hand. I walk over to Nora, the boys too into their music to notice me entering the room. It's warm in here, warmer than it is upstairs. A little stuffy, but the guys don't care.
Cypress is an older version of Roman. His hair is longer, dark like Roman's but with a slight wave. Like it tries to be curly like Nora's but can't quite get there. It brushes his shoulders and shifts back and forth as he bops his head to the song.
He's wearing a band shirt and a pair of jeans with his bare feet, his large toes wiggling as if he's playing the drums.
Nora rocks back and forth to the music, her curls bouncing, and complete euphoria written on her face.
Roman is good.
He's really, really good.
His eyes close a few times, his mouth splitting into a smile as he sings the lyrics of the song. He looks at ease next to his father. I always thought he was laid back, but now I realize there was something about him that's been missing since I met him, and that was his dad. Now that Cypress is back, Roman looks whole.
And sitting here watching him, I feel whole too.
My fingers pop through the holes in the crocheted blanket and I squeeze, pulling the fabric and stretching it as my crush hits me harder than it ever has.
I'm going to marry Roman one day.
CHAPTER SIX
ROMAN
1990
Isit on top of the monkey bars at the park, letting the sun beat down on me. The bars are hot beneath my palms and I grip the metal. The park has always been the go-to place around here, but it's always been a bitch when the sun is so hot it makes the metal burn you like a fried egg on a skillet.
This park has been a monument in my life. I've been coming here since I knew what a park was. In a few weeks I'm heading into high school. This park might not be what it once was, but I still like to come here from time to time. Me and my friends will still play basketball on the court if we need to take a break from playing music.
We started up a small band last year, just playing cover songs and fucking around in my basement. Until I realized my friends can really play, and they realized I can really sing. Together, we started making real music, scratching down terrible lyrics that will never make it an inch out of my basement, but still. It feels good to do this.
Not to mention, Luna has been even more dedicated to her ballet over the past few years, from going one night a week to multiple nights a week. With this summer being full of her ballet and my music, we haven't had a lot of time to spend with each other.
But that's why I'm here tonight, waiting at the park for her to get done with ballet. I wanted to hang out with her. Spend the last couple of weeks before school starts just doing what we do best: being around each other.
At this point in our lives, people just know that if there's one of us, there'll be both of us. We're best friends, but it's more than that. We are so much more than friends, even if we haven't ever done anything with each other. Sure, I kissed her on the cheek all those years ago, but that was the only time—the time we told each other we liked one another.
We've been tight-knit, her and I. Spending as much time with each other while also finding time to hang out with our own friends. She's best friends with Nora, and they hang out every minute she’s not with me. And I hang out with the guys whenever I'm not with her.
But things are changing now. I'm going into high school, and she has one year left of middle school. We're both growing, and although I'm excited as hell to start high school, a huge part of me doesn't feel great about leaving Luna behind.
I don't think Luna is stoked about it either. She's been in a bit of a mood since summer hit. She tries hiding it from me, but I've known her for years. Her sadness hits me straight in the chest like it's my own pain.
I don't think it helps that Harper graduated high school this last year and moved to Iowa for college. She's living in a dorm, and according to Luna, she calls frequently, but I know she misses her sister.
I watch as small kids play on the swings below me. Their parents sit under nearby trees, stretched out on a handmade blanket as they watch their kids from a distance.
"Roman," a voice calls from below.
I brush my hair from my forehead as I look down, seeing Cindy from school. She's in my grade and has always been a bit of a flirt. A little too much, to be honest. She's pretty, but my eyes aren't for her. Whether or not she wants to believe it, I think my heart has been taken my entire life. It doesn't stop her from trying, even though I wish she would.
"Hey, Cindy." I hop down from the monkey bars, feeling a zing of pain shoot up my calves. She has on a pair of shorts and a tank top. I can see the straps of her bathing suit peeking from beneath her clothes. Her blonde hair sits in waves around her head, and her short bangs give a small shadow around her eyes.
"What were you doing up there?" she asks, adjusting the long strap of her purse over her shoulder.
