Twelve Steps to Normal(45)

I catch myself smiling. This is the Alex I’ve always known, the guy who’d do anything for family even when he didn’t have to. It’s nice that he hasn’t changed.

I glance back down to the mess before us, then I take a deep breath. “It’s been weird being home, to be honest. My dad is like… this completely different person. But I don’t know. I know he’s really trying. For me. And for himself. But things are just—they’re not the same.”

Shame finds its way to the pit of my stomach. I haven’t even told Lin that much about my dad, so why is it so easy to confide in Alex?

I look up to find him staring at me. “For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “You didn’t deserve that.”

I used to hate it when people would tell me that they were sorry about what happened. It wasn’t their fault my dad spiraled. But it was something people said because they didn’t know what else to say. Somehow it feels different coming from Alex. It’s sincere, not like he’s throwing words into the wind.

It almost makes me want to tell him about my overcrowded house. About Peach and Saylor and Nonnie and all the changes that I’ve had to experience in the last few weeks. I so badly want someone to agree that it’s a messed-up situation. For a second, I almost tell him.

But I don’t.

Because, well, what about my twelve steps? I’ve been doing so well, especially with things that aren’t on the list. I’ve been invited to an actual social event this weekend—even if it is a party thrown by Breck. Things are slowly beginning to come together like they were before. That’s all I really want. To be close again with all my friends and not worry about coming home to my dad binging.

If I tell Alex the truth about the recoverees, there’s always a risk of it somehow getting back to Margaret. It happened at the intersection incident when I told Lin, who told Jay, who told Jay’s mom, who then told Margaret. And while I know that was a dire situation, I still can’t risk her thinking that my dad letting the recoverees live with us is unusual behavior. I know it’s not. He hasn’t even been near alcohol, but still… if she somehow found out, I don’t think she would hesitate shipping me back to Portland with Aunt June until my home life became more stable.

I trust Alex. I do. But I can’t take that chance.

Alex grabs something from the ground. “Did you lose something?”

He’s holding up a sock. It’s filthy, but it’s also patterned in tiny pineapples.

I feel my mouth curl into a grin. “You remember.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Alex says. “You wore that pineapple scrunchie every day of fourth grade—”

“Not every day!”

He shoots me an incredulous look. “And on your birthday, you’d bring in pineapple cupcakes with cream cheese frosting that your Grams made.”

I can’t believe he remembers that. When I turned fifteen, Jay had his mom make me a German chocolate cake, even though it was his favorite dessert. I pretended to like it anyway, but the texture was dry and tasted crumbly in my mouth.

I watch him toss the dirty sock in his trash bag. “Well,” I finally say. “Whoever lost it has good taste.”

We both work in silence for a few more minutes before I proclaim that I need a water break. We walk over to the cooler together. I pull down one of those paper cones and fill up.

When I turn around, I see Alex yanking off his T-shirt. His brown skin is smooth, uninhabited by freckles or birthmarks or scars. But that’s not what captures my attention. No—it’s the toned curves of his back muscles. The taut slopes of his shoulders.

I suddenly can’t move. I’ve gone completely catatonic.

It’s clear Alex got taller, but this. This is not the wiry fifteen-year-old I remember.

Water accidentally dribbles down my chin. My hand flies to my face, and I brush it away before he can see.

Alex wipes the sweat off his forehead with his T-shirt. I step aside so he can get to the water jug, but I’m suddenly self-conscious. I’ve practically sweated all my makeup off, and I can feel pools of it on my hairline. I must look like a complete greaseball. And—oh, no. Did I put on deodorant? I must have, right? Will he notice if I do a sniff test? He will. Don’t do it, Kira. I take a tiny step away from him just in case.

Alex moves the water cup away from his lips. And now I’m looking at his lips. I’ve noticed his lips before, but not the shape. How the bottom sticks out slightly farther than the top. I imagine they’re soft lips. Kissable lips.

Wait, what?

WHAT is happening?

I must be having some sort of heatstroke. Can the heat make your hormones flare up? That’s why they call it flare up, right? That must be it. The sun is the sole cause of my suffering. But I can’t leave, because then Lin would kill me. I have to find a way to make it stop.

Without thinking, I toss the rest of my water in his face.

Before he can react, I pick up my trash bag and run back toward the west side of the lake. What is wrong with me? He’s going to think I’m unhinged. But a second later, I hear footsteps coming in fast. It’s Alex. Trying to catch up. When I glance backward, I’m relieved to see he’s smiling. Oh, good. So maybe he doesn’t think I’ve completely lost it.

Then I notice that he’s still carrying his water cup.