Torn(21)

Elijah rubs at his chin with the long fingers on his right hand. "You're not serious? This isn't happening."

I smile into my palm, using the motion to try to ward off all the tangled emotions I'm feeling. I can't remember the last time I saw Eli smile like this. High school hasn't been friendly to him. He's struggled to find his footing but now that summer break has started, I thought I could help him venture outside the walls of the house in Brooklyn to discover things to actually get excited about.

The museums were going to be a starting point. Apparently, I put too much thought into it. Everything my little brother needed to pull him from the freshmen year funk he's been in was sitting on my stoop in the form of Asher Foster.

***

"This is the best chocolate cake I've ever tasted." He licks his index finger before he drags it over the last crumbs in the cardboard box. "You didn't want any of it, did you?"

I watch as his tongue darts across his finger to scoop up the crumbs. I'd handed him the Dobb's Bakery box with the piece of cake to hold while I fumbled in my purse for my apartment keys. I took Eli up to my place, giving him an extra set of sheets, a pillow and a thin blanket before explaining how to set up the sofa bed. He was fast at work when I told him I had to go back down to talk to Asher.

I peer into the now empty box. That was going to be my Monday splurge. It's a concept I put into practice in college when I thought I weighed too much. I briefly judged my appearance by all the girls around me. Luckily, for me, I grew out of that fast. My love of all things containing sugar makes it very hard to stay on the no-sweet path for long.

I splurge whenever I feel like it now. I'm great at balancing what I want against what I need. Right now, I want to lick the chocolate crumbs that are sitting on Asher's bottom lip.

"Your brother seems great. How old is he?"

"Fifteen," I sit on the hard concrete next to him. "He's really into music. He idolizes you."

A gentle smile floats over his lips. "You don't know how much I needed to hear that today. Not the idol part, but that he's into music. I loved it too when I was his age."

He was Eli's age a little more than a decade ago. I silently wonder if he was as awkward as my brother is. I can't help but try to picture Asher as a teenager. I chase the thought away with a shake of my head.

"It was generous of you to offer to sign his guitar." My eyes squeeze shut in an effort to ward off the emotion I'm still feeling from seeing my brother let go of his security blanket of silence to talk to Asher. "I'm taking him back to Brooklyn tomorrow night. I can bring the guitar back with me. If you have time to drop by my studio, you can sign it then."

"I meant what I said to him." He shifts slightly, his jean covered knee brushing against mine. "We'll figure out a time for you to bring him down to studio when I'm recording. He can hang out for a few hours. I'll sign whatever he brings with him, guitar included."

There's no way he can know what that means to not only, Eli, but me. "You don't have to do that, but thank you. Meeting you today made his night. It might have even made his year."

"I know that feeling. Meeting you has made my year."





CHAPTER 16


Asher




It's hard to tell under the soft light outside of her building, but I swear she blushes. She brushes her hair behind her ear, the movement sheltering her face from my view long enough for the rosiness to fade.

"Why did he call you Seven? Is it for the reason I think?"

Her fingers curl into her right palm, cupping her keys. "Yes. I'm the seventh child."

There's no emotion in her words at all. She doesn't think the name is cute or endearing. She wouldn't have her keys in a death grip if that was the case. "I take it you don't like it?"

"Elijah's the third youngest. There were ten of us born before him." Her eyes follow the path of a car as it hurries past us on the almost deserted street. "He couldn't remember all of our names, so my mom decided that numbers would be better. To her it was a no brainer. He would learn how to count and he had a system for identifying us individually."

"He's fifteen now." I point out the obvious. "The number thing never changed to actual names?"

"It changed. He picked up names one-by-one until he was calling everyone by their given name but me."

I meet her gaze. "It bothers you, doesn't it?"

She purses her lips as she moves the keys in her hand. "Only if anyone else calls me that. I'm Seven to Eli. I prefer to be Falon to everyone else."

"Falon, it is." I bump my knee against hers. "Do you have to go up or can you stay for a few minutes so I can explain something?"

She turns then so she's facing me directly, her hands quieting in her lap. "I'm not going anywhere. You have my full attention, Asher. The floor, or I guess the stoop, is all yours."

She's right. There's no one else in sight. No one is going to come walking into the middle of this and save me from having to explain myself. I have to own up to what happened in her studio. I want her to understand that I pulled back because my head was in the wrong space. It had nothing to do with her.

"I should start by apologizing for answering that call on Friday when you were taking my picture."