This One’s For You Read online

  “You look great in anything,” he said. “Elf ears and all.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Trust me,” he said, using a low voice. “You look good in everything. But want to know my favorite thing you’ve ever worn?”

  He stepped back toward me, and I shifted my gaze to meet his. My breaths came in small, quick movements. “What?” I asked, whispering softly.

  “That night we learned we lived right across the hall from each other,” he answered. I groaned, remembering the catastrophic mess I looked like. “Those tie-dyed socks were something else.”

  “Wasn’t that the night you were macking on some girl in the hallway?” I retorted.

  He flinched, and his face fell. I didn’t mean to upset him. I was trying to make a joke out of the situation. I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes, and wished I could take back what I had said. Then a grin appeared on his face, and he released a soft chuckle.

  “Yeah,” he admitted. “What I want to know though is what is it with you and this whole ‘macking’ thing? It’s called making out.”

  I shook my head. “Eh, I guess I’m just different than everyone else.”

  “And that,” he said, in low voice, “is just what I love about you.”

  I let out a small gasp. I wasn’t expecting to hear that. Before I could respond, my door burst open again, and there was Trevor—face red and eyes burning holes in us.

  “If you two don’t hurry up, I’m opening your presents for you,” he said, almost shouting. “And I’ll keep them.”

  Owen and I exchanged glances, and then looked to him. Trevor had the worst timing in the world. I held in the irritated sigh that was threatening. I grabbed Owen’s hand and started pulling him behind me.

  “Fine!” I told Trevor. “We’re coming. Stop getting your panties in a bunch. Everyone knows you’re getting a lump of coal this year anyways.”

  “Ha-ha,” Trevor mocked. “Very funny.”

  TWENTY

  EVERYONE WAS WAITING FOR US in the living room as Trevor had said. My parents and grandparents smiled at the two of us affectionately when we joined them, whereas my brothers were irritated and ready to get the show on the road. Damon was the designated gift passer, who was doing a poor job.

  No sooner than we had taken the only seat available—the love seat—was he chucking a midsized gift at my head. I ducked narrowly, and it soared over the back of the back of the couch. I rolled my eyes as I went to retrieve it. The cycle continued to happen; every time he came across a present for me, he’d send it flying toward me.

  Much to my surprise, Owen had a nice stack of gifts piled on the floor next to his feet. I knew my mother and Grams had gotten him something, but a nagging feeling told me they weren’t the only ones. We took turns opening gifts, watching, and waiting patiently until it was our turn again. It was Owen’s turn again, and at some point, Trent had gone out and got him a gift.

  “Really, Trent?” I said, glaring over at him. Owen laughed next to me as he held up the deep purple hoodie that said Huskies across the chest.

  “We live in Husky territory. It’s not that easy going out and finding Duck gear,” he replied. “Besides, if he’s going to be around for a long time, he better get used to the fact that this family bleeds purple and white, even if you haven’t come to your senses yet.”

  He went with the traitorous crap again. I was beginning to think he was never going to get over it.

  “Thanks, dude.” Owen jumped in. “I know the perfect shredder back on campus that should take care of this.”

  Trent scowled while the rest of us broke into a fit of laughter. My cheeks were hurting from the all the smiling I was doing this morning. It warmed my heart to see that my brothers quit giving us a hard time and seemed to genuinely like Owen. It was important for them to like him, but if they kept up their tirade, it wouldn’t have made a difference. And if I was being honest, it might’ve be part of the reason that pushed us together.

  I grabbed a small box off the top of the pile, the glittery silver wrapping paper gleamed in the light, and I turned it over and over, searching for a name to see who it was from. Owen’s hand fell over mine, and I looked at him.

  “It’s from me,” he said. “I was trying to wake up so I could give to you in private, but someone wanted to sleep in.”

  I was aware of the room full of eyes on us. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I pulled the ribbon off the box as gently as I could. I slowly opened the ends of the gift, not wanting to tear the paper. The gift seemed delicate, and I wanted to treat it like such.

  “Just open the damn thing already,” Trent shouted.

  “Trent, watch your mouth!” my mother scolded him.

  I ignored his protest and continued to unwrap the present the way I had been. After the paper was removed, I was left with a small, white box. It was nothing special, nothing to give me worry about what was inside. It was plain, something that a pair of earrings might’ve came in.

  I lifted the lid off, and a small gasp escaped. I brushed my fingers delicately across the gift inside and looked over to him.

  “A donut?” I asked.

  Looking back, I stared at the small silver charm—a donut. It might’ve seemed odd to my family, but to me, it had meaning. I closed my eyes for a brief second, remembering our disastrous attempt at making donuts. A sort of unofficial first date.

  “Yeah, well,” he said softly, low enough that only I could hear. “I don’t know the significance of the locket around your neck, but I know that it’s essentially your lifeline. Whenever you’re upset, nervous, or worried . . . you’re always rubbing it. It brings you comfort . . .” He paused, swallowing hard. “And I hope that I can bring you comfort one day, but for now, a donut will do.”

  “Isn’t that the most romantic thing you ever heard?” Grams said.

  Owen’s face blushed, as did mine. Apparently, he didn’t talk soft enough and everyone had heard. Casually, I glanced out the corner of my eye at everyone. Everyone except for Trent—who was making a gagging motion—was smiling, and their eyes were full of happiness.

  “Can I put it on?” Owen asked, grabbing my attention.

  I nodded, handing the box to him so I could undo the clasp. It was the first time I had removed it since my father gave it to me. Owen carefully slid the charm onto the chain. He gently brushed my hair to the side as he clasped the lock at the base of my neck.

  I held the locket and charm in my hand, and smiled softly. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

  “Not as beautiful as you.”

  Our eyes locked, the room fading away from around us. All I could see was him. I inched forward, desperate to feel his lips on mine. They were nearly touching, only centimeters apart, when someone cleared their throat, pulling us back to reality.

  I felt the heat rush to my face as I turned to my family. I shrank back into the couch, wishing I could disappear. Owen rested his arm along the back of the couch. I moved, settled into the crook of his arm, not caring what was running through everyone’s heads. I sensed Owen hesitate a moment before his arm moved, and his hand caressed my shoulder.

  We sat quietly as everyone continued to take their turns opening gifts. Every few minutes, I’d hold my necklace in my hand, staring at the charm sitting next to the locket. It was perfect in more ways than I could ever explain. The longer I stared at it, I couldn’t help but wonder when he had gotten it, and planned to ask him as soon as we were alone.

  The circle rounded back to Owen again, and I held my breath as he grabbed my gift to him. After giving me such a thoughtful gift, I was starting to have doubts about what I picked out for him.

  Owen’s lips turned up in a smile when he read the tag, and he looked at me, shaking his head. I wasn’t sure how Damon figured out that “Bieber-boy” was Owen, but he did. The more I thought about it, it wasn’t that hard to put two and two together.

  “I’m getting a haircut when we get back to cam
pus,” Owen said.

  I frowned and reached up to ruffle his golden locks. “Aww, but I like your hair.”

  A soft chuckle came from him as he tore into the wrapping paper. Suffice to say, he wasn’t as neat as I was when it came to opening his gift. And in less than ten seconds, he held his present in his hands.

  I watched Owen carefully as he stared at the book in his hands. He ran his fingers along the words printed along the cover, turning it over to look at the back. He flipped carefully through the pages before looking to me. His eyes were glistening as if he was going to cry.

  “It’s . . . it’s . . .” he stuttered. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

  I released a sigh of relief. He loved the book—a first edition mythology collection. I didn’t realize how much he really enjoyed mythology until his eyes fell on the book.

  Owen pulled me toward him and pressed his lips against my temple. “Thank you.”

  The room was quiet for a moment, everyone watching us, before they continued to finish opening the last of gifts. After we we’re all done, my mother ordered Trent to pick up all the wrapping paper and to haul it out to the trash can. Punishment for his use of foul language on Christmas. A cardinal rule in the Daniels’ household.

  After the living room was cleaned up, we helped carry trays of cookies and other goodies, along with refreshments, downstairs to the family room. Owen and I snuggled up on an oversized beanbag chair as the opening scene of It’s a Wonderful Life displayed across the TV.

  Grams and my mother excused themselves after the movie was over to finish the final touches on dinner. The rest of us stayed downstairs and decided to engage in a game of poker. Unless Owen had a confession to make, he was a terrible poker player, worse than I was, if that was even possible.

  Gramps dominated the poker game—by cheating. Of course, no one knew how he was cheating, but there was no doubt he was. The old man all but admitted it himself on more than one occasion. Thankfully, it wasn’t real money we were playing with; otherwise, things might’ve gotten ugly.

  By the time dinner was ready, Gramps had almost all the chips, and everyone was ready to call it quits. As we headed upstairs, he gloated about his winnings and how he should try his luck in Las Vegas. No one had the heart to tell him that he’d be ejected and banned from casinos the moment they caught on to his cheating ways.

  Grams and my mother laid out a delicious meal consisting of a ham, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and other dishes only one could think of. When plates were cleared off and tummies were full, Owen helped my brothers and father clean up the mess. I sat at the bar watching as they all decided to get into a war of snapping each other with dish towels. Damon tried to use me as a shield more than once.

  When the guys were done, despite the frigid air, my father made a large bonfire in the fire pit out on the deck. We sat around the fire, roasting marshmallows, and I was completely embarrassed as my family told Owen stories of my childhood.

  It was nearly midnight when we finally said good night and headed back to my room. I had planned to stay up to talk with Owen. All throughout the day, I had one thing I needed to talk to him about, but never found the right moment. But as soon as I laid my head on my pillow, I was out.

  ***

  Over the next few days, I struggled to find the right time to talk to Owen. I had questions about us. I wanted to figure out what was exactly going on with us, and what would happen when we got back to campus. I wanted to ask him when he got the charm. I wanted to ask him so many questions I thought my head was going to explode.

  More importantly, I wanted to tell him about Reagan. I wanted to tell him everything. For the first time, I was ready to open up to someone. Ready to share my pain, my guilt, and my fears. As New Year’s Eve neared, I was running out of time.

  My grandparents had left the day after Christmas, jet-setting off to some country I never even heard of. It’s what the two of them always did. They wanted to see the world and experience a new culture at the turn of a new year. They had been doing it for as long as I could remember. I hated to see them go, but I was used to it.

  Grams made me promise to bring Owen back next year, and for Thanksgiving. I had smiled but said nothing. I couldn’t make a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep. I couldn’t predict the future. And when I didn’t respond, she told me not to worry about a thing, she saw us together at that time, and she was excited to see the both of us next year. Like I said, she had a tendency to be a little cuckoo.

  My brothers took up a lot of my time with Owen. They were constantly dragging him along with them. As irritating as it was, it was nice seeing them including him. If I hadn’t witnessed it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed that my brothers wanted to kill him at first. Now, it seemed as if he was a long lost brother. Which made me a little uncomfortable when I thought of it like that. So I looked at it as a childhood friend they had lost, and were only just reunited.

  I sat in the kitchen, staring out the wall of windows, and watched as Owen and my brothers tossed a football back and forth. My mother was baking cupcakes to take up to the hospital for the children, something she always did. I laughed softly when Trent tripped over himself and fell into a puddle of mud.

  “Have you given any thought to the memorial party tomorrow?” my mother asked, cutting into my thoughts.

  I looked at her, finding her watching me closely. “I don’t know, Mom. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “We’re just trying to help you, Brennan. And we all think this party will be a good thing for you. You spent your summers out at that lake house, and it took you almost a year just to go sit out on the deck. It’s time to heal and move on.”

  “I almost drowned, Mom,” I said, tearing my eyes from her. A tear fell down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. “Reagan lost her life. How can anyone expect me to just act as if nothing ever happened? How can you all expect me to just forget about it?”

  “No one’s asking you to forget,” she said, coming around the corner. She placed her finger under my chin and turned my face toward her. “We just want you to realize that it’s okay to be happy. It’s okay to move on . . . I don’t expect you to ever forget about what happened. It’s something you’ll always be haunted by, but you have to learn to accept it. It’s not going to change, and Reagan isn’t going to come back.”

  I pulled away from her and rose from the chair. I might’ve been ready to tell Owen about it, but I wasn’t ready to move on. I wasn’t ready to accept what happened.

  I went to stand on the back porch, overlooking the yard. Owen raised his hand to wave at me, and I waved back. I stood there for a long time, watching the four of them toss the leather ball between them.

  Owen said something to them down below, but I was too far away to hear it. He waved to my brothers, before heading toward the stairs. A few minutes later, I turned to his footsteps against the wooden deck.

  “Hey,” he said, pulling me into his arms.

  “Hey,” I repeated. I nestled against his chest.

  Here was my chance. I could tell him everything now. I opened my mouth and closed it several times. Trying to figure out how to start. Nothing that came to my mind sounded good enough. I couldn’t just come out with, “Hey, you know that girl in all those photos on my wall? Yeah, well she’s dead, and I’m to blame.” That’d send him running for sure. I churned over the words in my head and decided that I wasn’t going to tell him now. I sighed, and gripped him tighter.

  “You okay?” he asked, pulling back to look at me.

  “Yeah, just thinking,” I replied. Then an idea came to mind. I knew what I needed to do, where I needed to go, in order to be able to open up to him. “I want to take you somewhere tomorrow, okay?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the lake house,” I answered.

  “So I take it that means we’re going to that party?”

  “No,” I said quickly. I hadn’t thought about t
he party tomorrow. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying to figure out what to do. There was no way I was ready to go to the party. Nor did I want to. “We’re going out there in the morning.” I paused. “Before anyone is out there.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  I squeezed him again. He kissed the top of my head. We stayed on the deck, watching the sky turn to brilliant shades of pinks as the sun began to set over Lake Washington. When I finally yawned, tired of from the last few days, Owen suggested that we headed to bed. I didn’t have any complaints.

  I tossed and turned all night long. Every time I closed my eyes, I had the same nightmare over and over again. I was stuck under water, kicking, flailing my arms, and desperately trying to reach the surface. Nothing I tried to do was working, and I just kept sinking into the dark abyss below me.

  The nerves for what was to come were eating at me. Triggering the nightmare that I hadn’t had in months. Eventually, I gave in and took a sleeping pill. I needed some rest if I was about to return to the place where my life had dramatically changed.

  ***

  My bed was empty when I woke up for the last time the next morning. My drapes had been pulled back, and the sunlight was filtering in. Holding promise to keep the clouds at bay. I wasn’t holding my breath, it was Washington after all; one minute it was sunny, and the next it was dumping buckets of rain.

  I looked around the room for any sign of Owen but didn’t find any. I stared at the ceiling, thoughts turning in my head. Today was the day. I was finally going to tell him the truth of what I’d kept tight-lipped about. I was about to bare my soul to him and hoped it wouldn’t backfire on me.

  My phone chirped with a new message from the nightstand next to my bed. I rolled over and grabbed it. It was from Amelia:

  See you next year, bish.

  Xoxo

  My heart sank a little. I missed her and wished she were here so I could talk to her about everything that had changed over the last week. But neither of us had kept to our promise to call each other every day. The only time we talked was the occasional text like the one I just received. I figured she was just as busy as I had been.