Lucas

“Okay son, that should be good,” Dad smiles as he pats me on the back. “Why don’t we rest for a bit before we head inside to help Mom?”

With a pained groan, I take a seat across from him, my body grateful for the rest after a morning of yard work and power washing. It’s the fourth Saturday in June, and therefore the day of the Holt’s Annual Summer Bash. For as long as I can remember, my parents have hosted this BBQ-style picnic, with an open invitation to anyone in Ruby Creek who wants to attend. It’s the one thing my family is known for, and I have to say it’s my favorite day of the year.

“Thanks for your help today,” he says while pouring us a cup of iced tea from the blue beverage cooler on the table. “After what happened with you and Becca, have you thought about how you’ll handle seeing her and her parents today?”

I stifle a groan. I haven’t talked to Becca since that night, two weeks ago, and I have no idea what she told her parents about the breakup. Parents who loved that we were together, and who are the type to sit us down in the name of helping us work things out.

“God…” I rub my forehead in frustration. “I honestly forgot they’d be here.”

“Mind if I ask what happened? I thought the two of you were good together.” 

To most, it might seem like he’s trying to pry, but it’s just how my dad is. He makes it a point to remain involved in our day-to-day, not out of a sense of trying to parent us, but because he cares about what’s happening in our lives. He doesn’t push us to open up, and no matter what we disclose, he never judges or lectures. It’s one of the many things I love about him. He’s easy to talk to, especially about things I’d rather not talk about. 

“I don’t know how to explain it, exactly. It just hit me one day. I realized I could never care for her the same way she cares about me.” 

As Dad mulls over my words, I remove the baseball cap from my sweat-soaked hair and turn my nervous energy toward shaping the bill.

“Well, not everyone loves at the same speed. That she cares more now doesn’t mean you won’t eventually catch up.” 

“I know that, Dad.” I sigh and take a minute to choose my words. Staring off into the distance, I recall the awkward exchange. “About a month ago, Becca told me she loved me. It was the first time she’d said it, and as badly as I wanted to say it back, I couldn’t. The more I thought about it, the more I realized those feelings might never come.”

“So you ended it.” 

I nod, still unwilling to meet his gaze. “Yes.”

“Any chance this has something to do with Emilia?” With a start, my eyes snap to his. “Don’t look so shocked,” he chuckles. “I have eyes, kid. I see the way you look at each other and as close as you are, I can see why it’d be difficult to love someone else.” 

Frozen and unable to speak, I just stare. How the fuck does he know? How the hell am I supposed to explain to him how it happened? That I’m doing my damnest to keep to my respective boundaries, even with how hard it is to go against my desires?

“I-I swear, Dad. Nothing’s happened. I would never…” I rush to stand. The trepidation coursing through my blood makes me want to crawl out of my skin. I can handle almost anything life throws my way, but disappointing my parents is not one of them. “Dad…” With my hands raised to my head and tears welling up, I accept my fate and meet his eyes.

With a worried look, he pulls me into an embrace. It’s a gesture I’m not expecting considering the circumstances, so I stand there completely stiff, unsure of what to do. 

“It’s okay, son.” When he pulls back, he’s grinning. His hands move to my shoulders in a show of support and he says, “It’s alright. No need to get bent out of shape. You’re a good kid, Lucas. And so is she. If the two of you like one another, it’s okay.”

What?

“It’s not okay, Dad! Not even a little. Even she agreed it wasn’t a good idea. She’s Jenny’s best friend, and with you and Mom being so close to her parents, our dating would only spell disaster. If things were to go wrong, it would mess everything up. For everyone. Not just us.”

“You know, some of the best things in life come from messy situations.”

Unsure of where he’s going with this, I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, like babies, for example,” I scrunch up my nose, already sensing where he’s taking the conversation. “When you and your sister came out, you were all slimy and gross. Green stuff. Blood. Weird goo all stuck to you, and yet, once you were all cleaned up, you were the most beautiful humans I’d ever seen.”

“Gross Dad.”

“Oh, and kissing. Some of the best kisses are the ones where you lose all restraint and slobber all over each other…”

“God Dad! Please stop…”

“Oh, and sex! It’s messy, but geez Louise…”

“That’s it…” I turn, ready to make my escape. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” he chuckles as he throws a heavy arm around me. “Look, all I’m saying is messy things are some of the most memorable and worthwhile experiences one can have. It’s part of life, son. You need to mix in a little mess to find the spice. So don’t be afraid to get a little dirty now and again because those are the moments that make life worth living.”

“I hear you, Dad. I do. It just feels like I already have way too many balls in the air. It’s senior year, you know? I’m a year away from all my hard work finally paying off. Between school, football, and getting ready for college next year, there’s already too much on the line. The last thing I want is to lose Embree because we rushed into something we weren’t ready for. She’s one of my best friends and with everything that’s about to change, I’m not willing to risk it.” 

Though it’s all true, saying it out loud leaves me feeling deflated. Like in choosing to protect what she and I have, there’s this hollowness that’s formed deep within my chest. For the first time in my life, doing the right thing feels wrong, and it makes no sense to me at all.

“Now that I understand. You have a good head on your shoulders, Luc, and a good heart.” He pulls me into a hug and this time I’m able to return it. “I’m proud of you, son. In case I haven’t said it today, I’m so damn proud of you.”

With a last pat on the back, he lets me go. His eyes move to something over my shoulder before he smiles big and says, “Oh, so now you show up. After all the hard work is done.”

I turn around in time to see Ben return his smile. “Sorry, Mr. Holt. Yesterday was payday. I didn’t want to leave Nic alone to deal with the mess.”

Damn. My dad’s cheerful expression turns contrite as we both consider the mess he’s referring to. A mess no child should have to deal with, but when you’re the son of an alcoholic and you have no other parent to protect you, you do whatever it takes to survive.

“I’m so sorry, Benny. You kids shouldn’t have to deal with that. Now that it’s summer, my offer still stands. We have plenty of room for the two of you.”

“Appreciate that, but we’re good. Nic won’t leave him, and I can’t leave her to deal with him on her own. It’s all good though. He’s not as bad as he used to be.”

That’s something I’ve learned about kids who grow up with neglectful parents. They tend to not only downplay their terrible home situation, but they’re also masters at hiding the neglect. It’s only because we’ve been friends for so long that I can see through his attempt at deceiving my dad.

“Okay, well, whatever you guys need, no matter the hour, give us a call.” Dad reaches out to shake Ben’s hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Holt.”

As we watch Dad head back inside, I tell him, “You don’t need to lie to my dad. He’d never go against your wishes, even if you told him how bad things are.”

“Maybe,” nonchalant as ever, he shrugs his shoulders. “So what’s with the miserable look you had going on when I came in?”

“Way to deflect the attention off yourself.”

“Hey, I’m just returning the concerned friend act here, so don’t give me that lip.”

“It’s not an act, Ben. We’re all worried about you…”

“Well, stop,” he cuts me off. “Because you see, I’ve been dealing with a shit hand all my life. I’ve learned to suck all that poison down so I don’t choke on it and because of that, I’m as put together as someone in my position can be,” he smirks. “Now you, having been raised by two competent parental units, you’ve been taught that the only way to feel better is to talk shit out. So talk. What’s got you looking so damn constipated?”

“Don’t be a dick just because you don’t want to talk about your life.”

“Then stop making me,” he gives me an arrogant grin.

“Fine, whatever.” Running a hand through my hair, I reclaim my seat at the picnic table. “Dad and I were talking about Becca, and how today’s the first time I’m seeing her since the break-up.”

He lets out a long whistle as he sits across from me. “Awkward, am I right? So what are you thinking, avoidance? Need me to run interference and keep the two of you from being together in the same room?”

“No, dumbass. I’m not avoiding her. There’s one year of school left and if possible, I’d like to remain her friend.”

“Okay, so what’s the issue, then?” He snatches the iced tea cup from my hands and guzzles it down like the drink was his. “Aaah. That’s good. Your mom makes the best iced tea.” With a raised brow, he asks again, “Well? What’s the problem?”

“It’s this little thing called a conscience. It’s something you’re not familiar with given that you’re feral, but for the rest of us, it means we feel bad when we hurt the people we care about. That night at the party, I hurt her.”

“Why did you break up with her, anyway? You said you hurt her, but how? You’re a damn boy scout so I know you didn’t cheat on her, so then what?” Standing, he takes the empty cup to the end of the table where the beverage cooler sits, and proceeds to pour himself a refill.

“I realized I didn’t like her in the same way she liked me. I felt bad that I couldn’t return her feelings the way she deserved.”

“So,” he pauses to take a long gulp of the drink. “Aaah, so good. Mmm.” Resuming his seat, he finally says, “It sounds to me like you actually saved her from wasting any more time on your sorry ass.” He smirks hard like he’s purposely trying to get under my skin, but it has the opposite effect because he’s right. For ten long months, I led her on.

“Too little too late.”

“Christ man. Snap out of it and stop acting like a whiny 5-year-old. You did the girl a favor and yeah, maybe a tad late, but as the saying goes, better late than never.” 

When I keep quiet, he throws his hands up in exasperation. “Good god, dude, since when am I the half-full glass of this relationship? You’re upsetting the balance of things, you know.” 

When I still say nothing, he blurts, “Okay. It’s cool then. I’ll be the optimist while you go on and wallow. I have a feeling you’ll need me to lift your ass up anyway after you hear how Parker asked Emilia to be his date for the bonfire.”

That. Does. It. Snapping out of my pity party for one, I growl at my best friend, “What the fuck do you mean, Parker asked her out?”

Nonchalant as fucking ever, the asshole shrugs. 

He shrugs! 

My hands ball into fists and I’m seconds from jumping over the table and wrapping my hands around his throat when he finally answers. 

“I mean that Parker finally grew into his balls and said ‘fuck you and your meaningless threats Lucas Holt,’” he says that last part in the worst Parker impression I’ve ever heard. “He’s been trying to tell you he likes her, but you go all caveman and threatening whenever her name comes up. In the end, I guess he said fuck it. He circumvented you, went up the chain of command, and asked her directly.”