Live Through This (9 page)

Yoga instructor: “Breathe.
Relax.
Experience the continuous flow of breath from your center . . .”

Jacob: “. . . checked in the mirror. I got a huge bruise on my butt.”

Zach: “You were looking at your butt in the mirror?”

Emma: “Gross!”

Jacob: “Not as gross as the time you dreamed you were eating chocolate pudding . . .”

Yoga instructor: “
Close out
the rest of the world. Be at
one
with your inner self . . .”

Emma: “. . . never happened. You’re so disgusting!”

Yoga instructor: “Take this time for
you
 . . .”

Jacob: “. . . why you make such a big deal out of every little thing?”

Emma: “Because you bother me.”

Yoga instructor: “. . . let your practice
absorb
into your being . . .”

Tony: “Come on, you two. Give it a rest.”

Bryan: “Yeah, seriously.”

I stand, press my hands together, bow my head toward the television, and say along with the instructor, “Namaste.”

Feeling less calm and centered than I did when I woke up, I roll up my mat and lean it against the back of the couch.

Mom comes down the stairs in dark jeans and a cashmere sweater.

“A little overdressed for skiing, don’t you think?” Tony says as he gets up from the table.

“I’m having my nails done today.” Mom pours herself coffee and dumps hazelnut creamer into it. “I’m going shopping in the Village. Maybe I’ll even see a movie. So no skiing for me.”

We’ve had five actual days on the slopes and six activity-packed
evenings. Everyone’s a little bit tired, a little bit sore, and in Mom’s case, at least,
a lot
over it.

Tony places his bowl in the dishwasher and shrugs as if Mom’s announcement didn’t totally stab his micromanaging heart. “I think that’s a great plan, dear. Do what you have to do.”

“Maybe the kids should take a day off too,” Mom says. “You can go with them up to the tube park or something.”

Over at the table, the triplets all look at one another with their eyes wide. “No!” Emma says. “We
have
to go to our lesson.”

Zach nods. “It’s
important
.”

“The most important ever,” Jacob says. “Max promised he’s gonna teach us some tricks!”

It’s amazing how they can scream at one another one minute, and then have one another’s backs the next.

Mom puts her hands up in surrender. “All right, calm down. It was just an idea.”

Tony turns to Bryan, who’s on a barstool. “I guess you and your sister are stuck with me then. Should we do Blackcomb today?”

“Sure,” Bryan says, looking my way. “Sound good?”

“It
does
,” I say. “But the thing is, Reece is kind of a newbie, so I don’t know if he can keep up with you guys. I think I
should try a few runs with him and if it goes well, we can meet up. Okay?”

I brace myself while Mom frowns at Tony, but to my relief, neither of them argue. Bryan gives me a sidelong thanks-a-lot grimace and I mouth, “Sorry.”

I am sorry to leave him with Tony, but my excitement over spending part of the day alone with Reece far outweighs it.

•    •    •

In front of the bathroom mirror, I put a fastener on the end of my braid and Bryan brushes his teeth. Reece has been on the road for hours so he should be here soon. Any minute. Any second.

“Cuh uh it ow?” Bryan asks.

“Huh?”

He points at his mouth.

Oh.
Can I spit now?

I step aside so he can get closer to the sink.

Peering into my makeup bag, I debate what to use. I want to look put together, but also like I’m kicking back for vacation and not
trying
to look good. A little color on my cheeks is always nice, but if we go in the hot tub tonight, I’ll probably regret eye makeup. So blush and lip gloss—

“Hey,” Emma says, standing in the doorway. “Do either of you have extra energy bars? Jacob took the last one, and all
that’s left in the cupboard is that gross goo stuff that makes me want to gag.”

Bryan unscrews the top of his miniature mouthwash. “I don’t have any.”

I’m about to give the same answer, but then I remember my Christmas present from Reece. “There’s a box of granola bars in my backpack if you want one of those.”

“Yay! Thanks!” She rushes away.

My thoughts swirl as I pat a little concealer underneath my eyes. What will it to be like when Reece gets here? Is it going to be weird to have him around my family? Will everyone be nice to him and manage to not do anything too embarrassing? Is he still going to like me? Is he going to kiss me—

“Wow,” Bryan says. “You’re like a million miles away.”

I meet his gaze in the mirror. “Huh?”

“Exactly.”

“Were you talking to me? What did you say?”

He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Nothing important.”

As he walks away, Emma comes back. “Why was this in with your granola bars?” she asks, handing me a small, black velvet case.

I stare at it. “I’ve never seen that before in my life.”

Holding my breath, I pop the case open. Inside, hanging from a delicate silver chain, is an inch-long pendant—a giraffe
pendant. I run my finger from its tiny pointy ears to its long neck to its textured spots. It’s so cute and detailed and perfect. The perfect present for Reece to hide in a box of snacks.

And it hits me: The night that I gave him a stuffed giraffe, he gave me a giraffe necklace. It means something. It means
everything
.

“How do you think it got in there?” Emma asks.

I clasp the necklace behind my hair. “I’ll give you a clue. Reece gave me those granola bars for Christmas.”

“Ohh. And he put the real present inside. I told you he wanted to be your boyfriend.”

“And you just know everything, don’t you?” I say, grabbing my blush brush and dabbing the tip of her nose with it.

The doorbell rings.

Reece is here. He’s here, he’s here, he’s here!

I haven’t finished with my makeup, but I don’t care. I toss the brush down and race for the stairs with Emma following.

Above in the foyer, Jacob says, “License and registration.”

“Registration’s out in the truck,” Reece says. “I’ve got my license, though.”

Jacob says, “Hand it over.”

I reach the top of the staircase in time for Reece to pull his ID from his wallet and give it to my annoying little brother.
Sterling the Giraffe’s head is poking out from the duffle bag hanging over Reece’s shoulder. My heart gallops and I rush to stand beside Jacob.

“Hi!” I say to Reece.

“Hi!” he says.

I’ve been imagining this moment all week. I thought I was ready for it. Now I’m here and Reece is here. I’m looking up at him and he’s smiling at me. I have zero doubt that everything is changing between us—that everything already has changed—and I don’t how to act. I don’t know where to stand, what to say, or
what in the
world
I’m supposed to do with my arms.

“Jeez,” Jacob says, reaching around Reece to push the door shut. “Are you going to stare at each other all day or what?”

My face gets hot and I resist the urge to shoot Jacob a dirty look. This isn’t at all the reunion I was hoping for—especially the part where Emma and my nosiest family member are hovering. I touch my necklace and say to Reece, “I found this, like, two seconds ago. Thank you so much. I love it. Like, a lot.”

He sags his shoulders, and his smile widens. “Oh, man. Finally. Every day this week, I’ve wanted to text you and say, ‘Will you hurry up and open that box already?’ ”

Behind us, the second-nosiest person in my family clears his throat. “Tony DeLuca,” he says, coming off the last step and shaking Reece’s hand. “You must be Reece.”

“He’s Kinsey, Reece Oliver,” Jacob says, waving the license in his hand.

Emma snatches it from him.

“I actually met you once before,” Reece says to Tony. “At the Homecoming game?”

“Of course,” Tony says.

“You didn’t meet me,” says Jacob.

“Or me,” says Emma.

“True,” Reece says, nodding.

My older brother ambles up the lower staircase. It’s good timing so that Tony will have to back off. “Hey, Bryan,” I say. “Come here really quick.”

Instead, he goes into the laundry room, calling, “Anyone seen my gloves?”

“No!” Jacob yells back.

“Hey, Bryan!” I say again, but he doesn’t even poke his head out.

“Kinsey, Reece Oliver, has green eyes,” Emma reads. “And he’s six-two and a hundred and fifty-six pounds.”

She hands the license back to Reece, and he blushes as
he puts it away. “Actually,” he says, “those numbers are a little outdated.”

“Are they?” Tony glances toward me.

I think I can guess what he’s thinking: If Reece has been driving long enough for his height and weight to have changed, maybe he’s older than he looks. But, really, he’s turning seventeen in February, so he’s only eleven months older than me.

Tony motions up the stairs. “Reece, how about if I show you where you’ll be sleeping and then you can get changed and ready to hit the slopes?”

“I’ll show him,” I say.

Tony shakes his head. “I’ve got this, Coley. Go see your mother for a minute, will you?”

The kids and Reece follow Tony upstairs right as Bryan comes out of the laundry room, carrying his snowboard jacket and pants.

“Reece is here,” I tell him.

“So? Am I supposed to throw a parade?”

I stare at him, surprised by the fierceness in his eyes. “I wanted you to meet him. That’s all.”

His expression immediately softens. “I’m just messing with you.” He drapes his arm around me. “Do me a favor, C?”

“What?” I ask, leaning sideways into him.

“Text me the second you guys can meet up. A day alone with Tony is like—”

“A day without unicorns and rainbows?”

He gives my braid a little tug. “I was going to say, a decade in hell. But, yeah, same thing for you, I guess.”

CHAPTER 10

A
n hour and a half after Reece’s arrival, we’re riding a quad chair alone together. We
shouldn’t
be alone when the lines are like this, but he got confused when it was time to load. At the last second, we were separated from the two skiers who were going to ride up with us.

I text Bryan to let him know that we’re not going to be able to meet them at all today. I don’t know how it will go over with him or Tony, but really, it’s for their own good. Reece is rusty on a board. It seems like even green runs will be hard for him.

“The powder’s been really good this week,” I say as I zip my phone into a pocket and slide my gloves back on.

He nods, but keeps gripping the safety bar with both hands and looking straight ahead like he’s been doing this whole ride so far.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “You’ve been kind of quiet since we left the house. Tony wasn’t rude to you, was he?”

While they were upstairs, Mom gave a hushed speech for me only, during which she kept using the words “inappropriate” and “regret.” As in, I need to make sure my behavior isn’t the first of those or she’ll make sure that I feel plenty of the second.

Reece shakes his head. “It was really nonthreatening as far as protective-dad lectures go. Believe me, I’ve heard worse.”

I assume he’s talking about Violet’s father, but I can’t bring myself to ask more. “Tony’s actually my stepdad, not my dad.”

“You mentioned that. He thinks of you like his daughter, though, right? Seems like it, at least.”

It’s never once occurred to me that Tony would think of me or Bryan as anything other than baggage that my mom brought into their marriage, but I don’t want to tell Reece that. It’s better for him to think things are totally normal and peaceful in our household.

Reece continues. “Anyway, we talked about music and stuff. He asked about jazz band. Told me what he has in his vinyl collection. That was mostly it. Noah had kind of warned me that your older clone—I mean,
mom
—is the tough one. Seems about right so far.”

“My clone?”

“You must have noticed that you, your mom, and your sister have the same blond hair. Same brown eyes. The same face. So . . . clones. Sound about right to you?”

“No,” I say, with a laugh. “For starters, my hair’s straight and theirs is curly. But why were you and Noah talking about my mom, anyway?”

“You know, I don’t remember. It all kind of started after the zoo, though. I knew that Noah took you to Homecoming, so when you and I first started hanging out, I tried to feel out whether he and the rest of the basketball team were going to kick my ass—”

“And he told you that it totally isn’t like that with us?” I interrupt.

“Actually, he’s never said one way or the other. But he’s always turning around in pre-calc, trying to give me advice and everything. So I’m figuring that he must be cool with it.”

This isn’t the way Noah made it sound at all. “Advice about what? What does he say to you?”

“Hold that thought,” Reece says with sudden panic in his voice. “What do I do?”

I follow his gaze straight in front of us. We’re coming to the end of our ride. “Oh. Lift up.”

He raises his leg up high in front and the board dangles below. He is
really
rusty.

“No,” I say quickly. “Just a little. The tip only. Now scoot a little bit forward in the seat. When our boards touch the ground, stand up, put your free foot in the middle of the board, and let the chair push you forward, okay?”

“Okay, sure.”

I wave downward so that the operator will slow the lift, but either he doesn’t see or doesn’t care, because we speed ahead. At the last second, as our boards make contact with the slick, hard-packed snow, I grab Reece’s hand, thinking that I can help guide him. Instead, it seems to throw him completely off-kilter. His other arm thrashes around and he falls to the ground, taking me with him. We’re a mess of limbs and bodies and snowboards.

“I’m sorry!” he says.

He crawls close to me, to accomplish what—I don’t know. “Reece, we have to move!”

The lift stops right before the people behind are forced to ski over the top of us. Reece and I drag ourselves out of the way and flop down next to each other on a snow bank. A bunch of people are staring at us; a few are chuckling.