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The door stops at the halfway mark when the palm of Kendra’s hand presses against it.

“Luke, you’re starting to worry me.” All traces of a smile or a playful, nagging attitude are gone from her face. I witness it from time to time, and it always prompts a conversation with her that I don’t want to have—one she knows I don’t want to have.

“Kendra,” I say exasperatedly, running a hand through the top of my disheveled hair, “I just want to go back to bed, all right? There’s nothing wrong with me.” I can never seem to get that through Kendra’s thick skull.

“I miss him too,” she says, and it stings the hell out of me.

Inhaling a deep, aggravated breath, I tilt my head back and let my eyes slam shut. The last thing I want to do is talk about my brother—it’s the one thing I don’t like to talk about, even on a small scale. I’m constantly having to avoid it around my friends and my family: How are you doing? they ask. How are you holding up? they ask. And sometimes people I don’t even know—new friends of Seth or Braedon—ask, How did it happen? Knowing damn well how it happened because Seth or Braedon already told them, and they don’t know what else to say, but feel like they have to say something. How about nothing? How about leaving it the hell alone? How about not constantly reminding me to open my eyes to my brother’s fucked-up, horrific death that was my goddamn fault?! How about that?

My fist clenches into a rock at my side, then the other, until I slowly let out a long, deep breath and feel the calm wash over me and my fingers uncoil.

“You have to stop doing this,” I tell her as my head comes back down. My eyes lock on her sad brown ones, which seem flecked with insult. “Everybody misses Landon,” I say carefully. “But you’re—”

Seth comes out of the bathroom with a knowing look in his eyes and saves the day.

“Let’s go, Ken-doll!” I hear a loud pop and see a flash of yellow behind Kendra’s head. A rubber band falls onto the linoleum floor at her feet.

“Owww!” She reaches behind her, cupping her hand over the back of her neck, her round, doll-like face scrunching up like a head of lettuce. “You asshole!” A thud resonates through the confined hallway space as her knuckles make contact with his chest. Seth jerks forward and both arms instinctively come up to defend the area. They both laugh.

Covertly, I thank Seth with my eyes.

Kendra, still rubbing the back of her stinging neck, turns to me. “Next time you’re going,” she says, pointing a finger at me. “I’m holding you to that promise.” Then she points at Seth. “And he’s my witness.”

I put up both hands in surrender.

“I always keep my promises,” I say, and that stings too, because it’s a lie and I feel guilty playing that card—my brother wouldn’t be dead if I kept my promises.

Finally they leave me to my room, where I hurry and close the door before Kendra thinks of something else to say. I hear the screen on the front door slam against the house as they walk out, and then their voices carrying on the air as they move past my bedroom window.

Falling against my bed with my arms raised above my head, I stare up at the water-damaged ceiling, where swirling patterns of brown have eaten away at the material in spots. The damage was there when I bought this house seven months ago, and I’ve yet to do anything about it. Or with any of the other multitude of things wrong with this rare gem of a fixer-upper with a stunning ocean view! Those were the real estate agent’s exact words when she showed me the place. She was laying the bright personality on thick to prepare me to hear the price. It’s not the house you’d be buying, but the view, she had said.

That was all that mattered to me, really. I needed a beautiful view, something to help smother the image of Landon’s closed-casket funeral, the blue and white flowers that covered his grave; the photo of us together with our mom and dad when they vacationed on Oahu that I buried with him. I needed to get out of the old house that I had shared with him because I woke up every morning expecting him to be crashed in the living room instead of his room, and it killed me when I saw that sofa empty. Every single day.

This new house doesn’t smother the images of the funeral—nothing will ever do that—but the house is different, the sofa is different.

My head falls to the side, and the numbers on the clock on my bedside table glow blue amid the slowly brightening light of the room. A breeze pushes through the open window, deftly touching the thin white curtain covering the screen. I shut my eyes and hope to drift back to sleep, but minutes later Landon’s face is still haunting me.

I thought I’d be used to this by now, seeing his face everywhere, but just like the memories of his funeral, it’ll always be there, torturing me, haunting me.

After a long time, and after suffocating myself with the pillow again to blot out the light, I’m still awake and I know I will be for the rest of the day.

Then suddenly, it’s Sienna’s face strolling through my mind, instead of my brothers. I had hoped to have forgotten about her by the morning. That’s pretty much what happened to the last few girls I took more than a sexual interest in.

But not this time.

I spring up from the bed, resolving to end this before it starts. I shower. Eat. Brush my teeth. Sit outside on the lanai and look out at the ocean. Then finally I call Allan at the resort and ask if he can fill in for me today. When he confirms that he can, I dress not to surf, but to hike, and set out to catch up with Seth and Kendra.

SIX

Sienna

He’s not coming.

God, I feel like an idiot—I really wanted to see him again.

Pushing down that uncomfortable feeling of being stood up, I rise to my feet and take my beach towel with me, tossing it over my arm without even shaking out the sand. Clumsily I step into my flip-flops and then shoulder my beach bag. I feel like I can’t get away fast enough, as if everyone on the island is looking right at me, whispering about the dumb girl who got stood up by the hot surfer; my stomach swims with embarrassment. And utter disappointment.

There’s a small group of people on the beach learning to surf, but this time Luke’s not among them. Maybe he got sick and couldn’t come today. Or maybe he’s just running late.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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