A/N: In this chapter, I mention a few things I did in "Sand, Sugar, and Salt" that might not (and probably won't) make sense to those of you who didn't read it in all its 60k+-word glory (which most of you understandably haven't).
(1) Castiel used to live in the house that is now Johanna's, and his memories of the house are not pleasant. Oh, and Nathaniel and Castiel are friends again. (They're bros now.)
(2) Amber and Dajan went to prom together last year, but Amber just sort of left him hanging and went for Castiel instead. With nothing else to do, Dajan asked Candace, my first OC, to dance with him just for fun. (That Candace—she's a saucy little minx!)
Hopefully that helps.
Thank you so, so much for reading and giving feedback! I hope you have as much fun with it was I do. Xoxo ~ binaryguppy
Petals
I couldn't remember much about the nightmare—just feelings, really.
I felt so overwhelmingly humiliated. All I wanted was to be alone with my misery. But I wasn't alone.
Please! Just leave me alone…
A buzzing under my pillow stirred me, interrupting the dream, and the bad feelings faded away to harmless nothingness. My numb, clumsy fingers found my cell phone and my mood soared when I read the text.
"Happy birthday! I can't wait to see you later."
Nathaniel, of course. It seemed like he was the right answer to everything, lately. I fell asleep last night in the middle of another flirtatious text message exchange, which was becoming the norm for us. I didn't dare ask him to sneak out of his house again, for fear he would get caught—but I secretly wished he would take the initiative.
"Me neither!" I typed back. I couldn't possibly tell him how true that was, but I hinted at it by ending the text with a winky semicolon smiley face. I quite literally could not wait to see him. Was it pathetic that even the promise of cake, ice cream, and presents was not enough to keep me satiated until I could be with him later in the afternoon? I thought it was.
Every year, my birthday cake is iced in red, white, and blue buttercream—which means purple teeth in every present-opening picture Mom takes. Last year on my seventeenth birthday, I got mall spending money, a new pair of jeans, and not much else. This year, for the big one-eight, the presents were considerably better. I got a few shirts and a pair of shorts of my mother's choosing, and a pink bottle of tangy-smelling apple-peony perfume.
The custom class ring I ordered from my old high school finally came in the mail, and I was excited to finally see it. I chose my birthstone, a red ruby, in a starburst cut for the center. On one side of the silver setting was my name and 'class of 2014'; on the other was the insignia of my former gymnastics team. Even though I didn't graduate from the School for the Deaf in Virginia, I was glad to have something from my hometown to carry with me when I started my new life in Sweet Amoris. It fit perfectly when I slipped it onto my left ring finger.
I was most excited, though, about my brand new laptop.
It's so that you can take home school classes online, Mom said straight-faced as I turned the pristine white packaging over to read it.
Yeah, okay, I agreed distractedly, unable to stop smiling. As eager as I was to open it and set it up, it would have to wait until I got back later tonight.
I thought it would be a good gesture to invite Nathaniel's friends to the house before we went…wherever we were going…to do whatever it was we were doing. I still had no idea what the Fourth of July was like in Sweet Amoris. It hadn't even occurred to me to ask Nathaniel for details; as long as I was with him, I knew I would have fun. Anyway, it would help put Mom and Dad's minds at ease if they could meet these friends of his before they turned me loose.
Mom heard something—a knock, or maybe the doorbell—and got up from the living room couch to see who it was. I assumed Nathaniel would be first to arrive, since he only lived two doors down, but Candace and Dakota were first. Candace wore glasses with trendy plastic frames that she didn't have on the last time I saw her. I thought it would be a little bit awkward without Nathaniel there, but she was as comfortable with writing to me as he was. She even brought her own notebook with her specifically so that she could talk to me. "We don't know what you like, so we brought you a gift card," she apologized, settling next to me on the loveseat.
Their relationship must have been pretty serious; the card was signed 'Candy and Dake,' one indivisible unit. I was astounded that she even knew it was my birthday. Nathaniel must have told her. "Thank you!" I wrote back. "You honestly didn't have to bring me anything at all."
"This is bizarre," she wrote after gaping around the room. "Your house is the same floor plan as Nathaniel's, only it's the mirror image."
Dakota—or 'Dake,' I guess—was making himself right at home. He found the cake and had already swallowed most of a corner slice before it even occurred to me to offer him some.
Candace showed me another note. "I'm sorry about him in advance. He acts kind of weird sometimes. I think it's from prolonged sun poisoning and head trauma."
I wasn't sure if she was being serious or not, so I kept my smile as neutral and non-offensive as possible.
Dad looked on, slightly suspicious. He clearly didn't appreciate Dakota's tattoos.
Don't worry about him, Dad, I signed, thankful that neither Candace nor Dakota could understand. He's a sweetheart. He's harmless.
A sweetheart, huh? Dad's forehead furrowed disapprovingly. What about that other kid? The athlete? The one who can sign?
Who, D-A-J-A-N? I spelled.
Yeah, him! Dad nodded when he recognized the name. Is he coming, too?
Ever since Dad met Dajan at the studio, he hasn't stopped talking about him. I swear, he's worse than me.
No, not this time, I said, much to Dad's chagrin.
That's too bad, he tisked. I like him.
You like him…better than Dakota? Better than Nathaniel? Is that what you mean, Dad?
As Candace penned another sentence for me to read, Dakota squeezed in beside her on the loveseat, jostling her roughly and turning the word she was writing into a mess of scribbles.
Head trauma? he read from the notebook, frowning.
"And I love him ever so much," she added, her eyelashes fluttering under her glasses lenses.
Dakota vocalized his approval through a mouthful of cake. He 'booped' her nose with the tip of his finger, smearing it with blue icing.
Ew. Don't start that again, you two…
Candace swatted Dakota's hands away (but it didn't look like she was trying too hard to get him to stop touching her) long enough to write me another question. "Have you been to the beach here in town yet?"
The beach? Is that where we're going? Awesome! I love the beach!
I shook my head no and asked for the notebook, trying to play it off like I knew that was the plan right from the start. "That reminds me, I need to go change into my swimsuit! I'll be right back." I wedged myself out from beside Candace. The loveseat wasn't meant to seat more than two people, and it was getting sort of crowded.
I gathered my birthday haul and lugged it upstairs to my room so I could change into one of my new outfits. I went with distressed denim shorts and a white tie-front button-up shirt over a cherry-patterned blue bikini that thankfully still fit from a few summers ago. It was my favorite one because the ruffles on the bikini top helped make my barely-B cups look like they could be Cs…with a little imagination and some wishful thinking. For fun, I tied my hair into low, straight pigtails on either side of my head with the tri-colored ribbons from my birthday presents, and dabbed on some of my new perfume.
Maybe the pigtails were too corny, I thought—but as usual, any insecurity I felt about what I was wearing—or about anything, really—disappeared when Nathaniel met me at the bottom of the stairs. When he saw me, he blushed redder than I'd ever seen him—which told me the pigtails were a good choice, after all. He wore a nerdy Captain America t-shirt with his cargo shorts, and carried a bouquet of flowers in his arm.
I was all smiles and giggles as I took the paper-wrapped bunch of flowers. I liked Nathaniel's selection: sweet red carnations, crinkly blue delphinium, and cheery white daisies. Very patriotic.
It was so weird… I wanted nothing more than to be near him all day, and now that he was here, I felt too shy to do anything except hide my face in the flowers and inhale their subtle, earthy smell.
Mom materialized behind me to greet Nathaniel. Her expression hardened slightly when she turned to talk to me. Come in the kitchen with me so we can put those in water, she beckoned.
Okay, I shrugged, reluctant to leave Nathaniel when he'd only just arrived—but I obeyed and followed her as she hobbled into the kitchen, and Nathaniel stayed behind to catch up with Candace. (He brought a hand to his own nose and laughed. What's on your face? he asked her.)
What are you and your friends up to tonight? she asked nonchalantly, searching the cabinets for a vase.
I stood on tiptoe to get one down from a shelf that was out of her reach and set it in the counter. We're going to the beach.
That sounds like fun, she said, turning on the faucet to fill the vase. And then out of he blue: It was awfully nice of Nathaniel to bring you flowers on your birthday, don't you think? She'd taken up using the name-sign I made up for Nathaniel—an amalgamation of the signs for 'necktie' and 'neighbor'—so that I wouldn't have to keep fingerspelling his name when I talked about him…which I did quite often.
Yes, it was nice, I agreed, freeing the flowers from their rubber band and paper wrapping.
It was awfully nice of him, she repeated. He seems to like you a lot.
I'd unwittingly walked right into a lecture. Well, I like him a lot, too, I said aloofly. I took up the kitchen shears and shortened the stems, squeezing the blades closed to snip off the moist ends.
I know how you are with boys, she said, her face completely serious. He's sweet, but you have to remember he's leaving soon. I don't want you to get heartbroken when he moves on.
Mom, I know Nathaniel's leaving, I said exasperatedly. I turn eighteen years old today! I'm not some obsessed little middle-schooler, doodling his name all over my notebooks. He's just a friend. I don't want to get into anything serious with him.
That might have been a lie.
I realized something as I fed the flower stems into the vase. Maybe this was exactly why I was nuts about him—because I knew it couldn't get 'too serious.' Maybe I secretly wanted to find out how close to serious it could get before going over the edge.
This is psychotic. I shouldn't be playing chicken with my own heart this way. And certainly not with Nathaniel's.
Leave it to my mother to take me on a guilt trip on my birthday.
Be careful, Kiddo, Mom reminded me, then left me to finish arranging my flowers.
One of the daisies' stems snapped, and the flower head fell limply away from the rest of the neat arrangement. It would have been a shame to throw it away, so I carefully tucked it into my hair.
Back in the living room, I found Dakota trying (and failing) to talk to Dad, and Candace and Nathaniel looking through the windows by the front door. I came up behind them to see what was up.
"My friends Castiel and Lysander are here, too," Nathaniel wrote on Candace's notebook. "Castiel is staying outside because he smokes."
I saw two figures leaning against a beat-up green sedan in the driveway. I recognized the platinum-haired, lanky boy with unmistakable eyes from the yearbook, but I hadn't met the other one yet—the gaunt, red-haired, sour-faced one that puffed on a cigarette, shoulders hunched and arms crossed. The redhead looked absolutely miserable, and I didn't understand why.
"Tell him he can come inside once he finishes his cigarette," I wrote, hoping he didn't have some kind of weird, deep-seeded fear or hatred of the deaf. "Doesn't he like cake?" I offered feebly.
Nathaniel sighed and opened the door to shout something to Castiel. The latter lifted his head and listened. Whatever Nathaniel had to say made Castiel immediately recoil and hang his head even lower than before, shaking it avidly with a resounding, smoky no. The very idea of coming inside the house seemed to appall him. I didn't think it was possible, but he was turning even whiter.
He seems like an absolute delight.
"Well, it was worth a try," Nathaniel scrawled with an apologetic shrug. "It's nothing personal. They can both be a little antisocial sometimes, but they'll warm up to you. They'll have to, once they see how sweet you are." (Aw, Nathaniel!) "Have you met Lysander yet? His brother's store is next door to the studio."
Really? A second handsome neighbor boy? I could get used to this!
If they weren't coming in, I'd have to go out there and introduce myself. I hurriedly said my goodbyes to Mom and Dad and assured them both at least twice that I would text them if we went anywhere besides the beach and that I would be home by midnight.
Be careful, Mom urged me for what was probably the hundredth time.
Yeah, I love you, too! I answered her—then slipped on a pair of shoes and followed everyone else out the door.
I made a beeline across the front lawn to the boys' car—but then I froze. I couldn't get anywhere near them. Between Castiel's fingers was a menthol cigarette wrapped in distinctive black paper—the same kind he used to smoke.
The smell…it brought too-real images and feelings that I didn't want to revisit—not today, of all days.
So much for making a good first impression. Here I am, standing in the middle of my lawn, paralyzed, unable to get over myself long enough to tell Nathaniel's friends hello.
Castiel didn't seem to notice my strange behavior at all. Mercifully, he stamped out his cigarette and he and Lysander ducked into the car. Candace and Dakota got into a white Honda, and Nathaniel ushered me to his waiting truck. At first I thought it was excessive that we were taking three cars to go the same place—but I reasoned that Candace and Dakota, at least, had plans for the end of the evening that didn't involve the other four of us.
Perhaps that was why Nathaniel wanted to bring his own truck, too.
Flustered, I struggled to untangle the seatbelt—and I flinched when I felt a soft hand touch mine.
Nathaniel leaned over to help me buckle in, making me even more nervous, setting my face and my heart on fire. He pulled the belt taught over my lap, his hand brushing for the briefest of milliseconds across my stomach.
Thank you, I signed shyly.
He understood that time, and said you're welcome aloud—which gave me an excuse to stare at his lips.
The truck shuddered to life, and away we went, through the subdivision, through the shopping district, past the bank, past the high school. We drove until we could literally go no further and the town abruptly ended at the rocky seashore. Since Candace and Castiel snagged the last two parking spaces at the beach's little paved lot, Nathaniel was forced to leave his truck in a grassy vacant lot—and I hoped he wouldn't get ticketed for it.
The white-gold sand of the little beach at the town's edge was only occasionally littered with tangles of dried seaweed—but it was packed with people. The beach must have been the most popular place to watch the fireworks; it seemed like the whole town was there.
Candace and Dakota wove through the crowd, their bare feet nimble in the loose, inches-deep sand. They seemed to know where they were going, so Nathaniel and the boys followed, and I doddered after them, trying to keep sight of the tops of their heads in the crowd of strangers: Castiel and Candace's red, Dakota and Nathaniel's blond…and whatever Lysander was.
I jumped when I felt a gentle tug at my left pigtail, and I whirled around to see who was touching me.
D.J.!
The metallic bead to the end of his shortest dreadlock and his eyebrow piercing glinted in the late afternoon sun. He looked good, but he was definitely overdressed for the beach in long jeans and an expensive-looking brand-name graphic tee. How he could stand to wear basketball sneakers in the sand was beyond me; they were undoubtedly filling up with grit with every step he took. It didn't look like it bothered him, though. As a matter of fact, he seemed more concerned about what I was wearing. Maybe he thought I wouldn't notice him checking me out because the sun was shining in my eyes.
What are you doing here? I signed animatedly.
Me? I'm here to see you, he retorted brazenly.
Oh, really?
Really. Your hair looks cute like that.
Thank you! I thought it would be fun, just for today…
Candace and the boys were nowhere in sight. They might not have even realized I was gone yet.
Oh, wait—there's Nathaniel. I'll catch up with him in a minute.
He had an unexpected visitor, too: his sister Amber, the blonde she-troll from the carnival.
My heart sank when I realized Dajan must be here with her.
Why should that upset me? I'm here with Nathaniel, aren't I?
As I watched her, Amber held an orange-palmed hand out to her brother expectantly, and she was doing this weird thing with her face. Was that her attempt at pouting? Was it supposed to be persuasive? Or cute? Ugh, it was painful to look at!
Nathaniel was thoroughly annoyed. He cast an apologetic glance in my direction.
I smiled at him sympathetically, trying to tell him I'd get back to him as soon as I could.
Did you bring your girlfriend to come see me? I asked D.J, only half-joking.
He was unfazed. But I don't have a girlfriend, he insisted.
I laughed at him, equally shameless. Well, according to your girlfriend's brother, you do.
Well, her brother thinks he knows everything, and he doesn't. He held onto his smile, but I could see it slipping as he watched Nathaniel and Amber argue out of the corner of his eye. I'm telling you, she's not my girlfriend! We went to… He searched the beach beyond us for the right sign, but came up with nothing, so had to spell the word instead. We went to P-R-O-M last year, but she didn't dance with me. Not even one time.
Prom! That was it! That was where I'd seen Dajan's name before—in the yearbook, the picture of Candace dancing with a tall boy at prom!
Why did you go to prom with A-M-B-E-R? I couldn't help but ask. At the same time, I was brainstorming possible name-signs for Amber; it was only fair that she have one, too, since her brother had one now. How about 'yellow'-'bitch'? Or 'bitch'-'tan'? Or just 'bitch'?
Because she asked me to! was his answer. I moved here at the end of last year. I was new, and I didn't have any friends. A girl asked me to take her, and I said yes without thinking twice. I didn't know until later that… He had to stop and think about how to from the sentence. She only wanted me to go with her so that she could make another guy…mad? Sad? Sorry?
Jealous? I suggested—signing it and spelling it, just to make sure.
Yes! She wanted to make another guy jealous, he said, getting accustomed to the new word. That guy, actually.
He pointed behind me.
The other four members of my 'birthday party' must have noticed Nathaniel and I were missing and come back to find us. Candace saw us and waved, smiling widely. She looked extremely impressed when she saw Dajan signing to me, and her mouth formed a compliment with his name in it—probably something like, I didn't know you knew sign language, Dajan!
Lysander, Castiel, and Dakota were all clustered around her, the first two pawing nervously at the sand with their feet, the third stooping down to whisper something in her ear that made her seize up with open-mouthed laughter.
Wait, which guy? I asked Dajan. Amber wanted to make one of them jealous?
Red, he said simply—and I knew he meant Castiel.
That's…interesting. I wasn't sure what else I could say without getting myself into trouble.
This kept getting weirder and weirder. Amber went so far as to snag Dajan as arm candy to make that guy want her? She didn't look like his type, like, at all. I sincerely hoped Castiel had better taste than that.
Furthermore, Dajan was the arm candy in his and Amber's relationship? The more I learned about her, the less I liked her. Dajan didn't seem to like her much, either—or even care about her, since he was so willingly and blatantly flirting with me right in front of her.
What's this? Dajan raised a hand to my face. I thought he wanted to play with my pigtail again, but he dug into it and pulled the now wilting daisy out with surprisingly delicate fingers.
Hey, give that back! I grabbed for the flower and snatched it from him, but in the process, one of its white petals fluttered to the ground.
A little…
The velvety feel of the little flower's petals between my fingertips ripped me back to a sunny summer camp years ago, where my friend Shelby and I would play a fortune-telling game of our own creation. With each pull of a petal from a flower's stem, instead of just 'he loves me' or 'he loves me not'—which was too simplistic for our sophisticated eleven-year-old tastes—we alternated among five possibilities that specified how much the boy in question truly did or did not love one of us.
One pulled petals while the other signed: A little… A lot… Passionately… To madness… None at all.
The results were always giggle-inducing—particularly if you rigged a 'to madness' result with a boy you were already crushing on.
As I held the little flower in my hand, absentmindedly pulling out its petals, I played the game in my head without even realizing what I was doing.
A lot… Passionately… To madness…
So, I pried, twiddling the ruined flower between my fingers, what are you and your not-girlfriend doing tonight?
None at all… A little… A lot…
I don't know. She calls me whenever she gets bored. She asks me to drive her places because she doesn't have her… He squinted, unable to find a sign for the word he wanted. I could tell he was starting to get frustrated. She failed the test, he finally said as an alternative.
She failed her driver's test, and she doesn't have her license? I surmised.
He nodded.
I see.
Passionately… To madness… None at all…
I thought maybe Dajan and Amber shared the same kind of reciprocal, flirtatious friendship that Nathaniel and I did, but I was quickly learning that our situations were entirely different. In fact, the one-sidedness of their arrangement was distressing.
And you do whatever she tells you to? I asked indignantly.
A little… A lot… Passionately…
He shrugged. Yeah, I guess.
Why? Did he really just not care? Dajan didn't strike me as that…apathetic. There must be some other reason.
To madness… None at all… A little…
The best answer he could come up with was: I've always had a…a soft spot for blondes.
The sign (literally 'yellow' and 'hair') immediately made me think of the way Nathaniel's bangs hung in his eyes, the way they still shone gold even when wet.
A lot… Passionately… To madness…
Maybe I had a 'soft spot' for blonds, too—one more thing Dajan and I had in common. I know what you mean, I admitted.
None at all… A little… A lot…
He must have thought I was simply assuring him that I could understand his sign language. He smiled appreciatively, sweetly, his eyes lingering on my own hair. I'm glad you understand me.
No, I'm glad you understand me. You understand better than anyone else here, I told him—and I meant it.
Passionately… To madness.
I was out of petals.
So…Dajan would love me 'to madness'? Or Nathaniel? I was looking at Dajan, but Nathaniel was the one who gave me the flower in the first place…
I wished I had established more clear-cut rules for this game when I was eleven. I dropped the naked flower stem onto the sand to be squished underfoot.
I suddenly felt anxious to get back to Nathaniel, and made no attempt to come up with another reason to end Dajan's and my conversation. I think Nathaniel is waiting for me.
Dajan blinked confusedly. Neighbor-what? Oh, right. He didn't know Nathaniel's name-sign.
N-A-T-H-A-N-I-E-L, I spelled. I made him a name-sign.
Right, Dajan nodded, looking slightly defeated. I was just about to turn away; I almost didn't see him sign: I'll be waiting.
What was that?
I mean, I'll be around. Maybe you should text me. You know, when you get bored.
Bored of Nathaniel, you mean?
I rolled my eyes, but smiled brightly—and yes, I could definitely feel myself blushing. Bye, D.J., I waved.
Bye Jo, he waved back—and Amber appeared out of nowhere and looped her arm around his like he was an especially large accessory and dragged him away.
I felt a gentle touch at my elbow, and I started at its tickle.
It was Nathaniel, beckoning me to follow him to wherever Candace and Dakota were going.
I gave him a smile, but he didn't return it. He looked disgruntled, his eyebrows making a tiny crease when they met at the bridge of his nose. I didn't know who made him mad—Amber, Dajan, me, or all of us together—but he was clearly in a bad mood now.
Come on, don't be like that!
I reached for his hand, and watched the creases on his forehead disappear as I squeezed it gently.
Is this how Nathaniel is going to be whenever I try to make friends with anyone else besides him?
A buzz in my pocket told me I'd received a text. But from whom? Nathaniel was right there, and he didn't have his phone out…
I dug my phone out of my pocket and unlocked it with my free hand.
If it's Dad checking in with me, I'd better respond right away so he knows I'm okay. Or maybe it's Shelby or someone from back home wishing me a happy birthday.
…Or maybe it's Dajan. Maybe he's bored already.
But the number the text came from was unregistered—a Virginia area code with no name.
"Happy birthday, Sweet Thing. I miss having you around. Maybe I should drive up to see you someday, for old time's sake."