Ben kicks the knife away and turns his attention to Alex, who’s still got Frankie down on the ground.
“I warned you.” Ben’s voice is low, menacing, every bit the voice of a man who means what he says and intends to carry out his threats. “I fucking warned you to stay away from her.”
And Alex McGill actually looks afraid for once. It’s a nice thing to see.
Damian tries to sit up. “My hand is broke!”
Alex complains. “We were just messing around.”
Ben takes a step closer. “Let the kid up.”
Alex takes too long to obey. Ben dishes out another brutal kick and catches Alex in the chin. Alex falls to his back and flails. I want to clap my hands in delight. But instead I rush to Frankie.
“Are you hurt? How bad?”
His jaw is swollen and he struggles to get to his feet with a groan. “Why didn’t you run, Cam? You should have run.”
I try to help him up but he’s heavy. “Because I would never leave my brother behind.”
“You motherfuckers.” Ben’s not finished with the McGills. “You think you can just do whatever the fuck you want to anyone you want!”
Alex scoots backwards and holds up a hand in surrender. “Fuck, chill out, Beltran.”
“YOU DON’T GET TO KILL AND WALK AWAY!”
“What?” Damian is nearly sobbing as he continues to try to stand. “What the fuck are you talking about? We didn’t kill no one!”
“Ben.” My breath stops when I see the expression on his face. It’s rage and it’s grief and it’s heartbreak. It wasn’t born in this moment. It comes from somewhere else entirely. And while I could never be afraid of Ben I’m suddenly afraid for him.
“Ben, let’s go. Please.”
He hears me. And he nods.
Ben grabs Frankie around the waist and hauls him up. I’m not worried the McGills will follow. One glance behind me reveals that they’re both having trouble even sitting up.
Frankie is unsteady on his feet but after a few steps he insists on walking without help. Ben moves to my side and curls an arm around my shoulders.
“Are you okay?”
I look up into his face. The agonized expression he wore a moment ago is gone. “Yes. Are you?”
His lips tilt into a grin and I see the Ben I know.
My Ben.
The boy who makes me laugh and gets me excited and often leaves me exasperated.
The boy I want.
I hug him around the waist. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Camden, I’m sorry.”
“Me too. I texted you earlier. I guess you saw it already.”
“No. I forgot my phone at home.”
“Where have you been all day? You weren’t at school.”
He sighs. “I went for a walk.”
“What do you mean?”
“Camden.” Frankie gets my attention to let me know we’re in front of our house. He’s limping and he’s holding his stomach like it hurts. Plus there’s going to be a hell of a nasty bruise on his jaw. But he’s in one piece. And so am I.
“Thanks, man,” he says to Ben and offers his hand for a fist bump. Then he swallows and looks at the ground. “I don’t want Mom to see me like this.”
“We’ll get you inside and cleaned up. We’ll think of something to tell her.”
He nods and takes a few tactful steps away, obviously wishing to give us some privacy.
I hug Ben and lay my cheek against his warm chest. “I’ve got to go.”
“I know.” He strokes my hair. “So do I. Need to be at work.”
“Thank you, Ben.”
“See you at the bus stop tomorrow?”
I look up at him and wrinkle my nose. “No.”
“No?”
“This was the last day of school before break. There’s no school tomorrow or the day after that and so on for two and a half weeks.”
“Right.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “Something tells me you’re in the habit of waking up early all the time.”
“True. I like to get things done.”
“In that case can I take you to breakfast tomorrow morning?”
No other question in the history of questions has ever made me this happy. “I would love that.”
“Then it’s a date.” He cups my chin in his palm and I’m anticipating a kiss but he just stares into my eyes. “Eight o’clock?”
“I’ll be ready.”
“And I’ll be here.”
We stare at each other, mere inches apart. It dawns on me that I don’t need to just stand around and wait to be kissed. I lean in and brush my lips across his with the gentlest touch.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Beltran.”
He releases me and winks. “You’ll be seeing me a lot more than that, Galway.”
Ben
I hesitate to ring the doorbell because it’s early and for all I know everyone else in the house is sleeping. This mood is new to me, this sense of happiness when greeting a new day because I know I’ll be spending it with a girl I’m wild about.
And I like it.
Earlier my mother was preoccupied with getting ready for work and only nodded when I said goodbye. It wouldn’t surprise me if she never again wants to talk about yesterday. She has a longtime habit of locking painful events into an internal vault and refusing to discuss them.
The front door of Camden’s house is a vibrant blue and includes a tarnished brass door knocker in the shape of a G. I reach for it and hardly get the first knock in when the door opens.
Camden looks beautiful. Well, she’s always beautiful, even when she’s not trying. Her hair is down with a simple part in the middle and she wears a fuzzy pink sweater atop dark jeans that mold to her shape. I feel instantly summoned to put my hands everywhere.
But I find my manners before my hands find her ass and I smile. “Good morning, gorgeous.”
She flushes and tucks her hair behind one ear. Compliments still catch her off guard. That just makes me want to give her more of them.
“Hi.” She glances behind her and then steps back from the door. “Come in.”
Camden’s house is a real home, full of family photos and well worn furnishings and mismatched accent pieces that probably have sentimental value. There’s a pleasant pine woods smell radiating from the squat Christmas tree, which is covered in bright balls, light strings and handmade ornaments. There’s also a woman seated in the middle of the sofa and she’s wearing a terrycloth robe in the same bright blue color as the front door. Right away I can see her resemblance to Frankie. Around her head is a turban-style wrap patterned with bright tropical flowers and I know she wears it because of what her cancer treatments have done to her. But nothing has stolen her luminous smile.
“Ben.” Camden takes my hand. “I want you to meet my mom.”
“Hello, Ben. Please call me Adela.” Her voice contains a distinct Spanish accent. “I am glad to meet you.”
“You already know Frankie,” Camden says and now I see her brother is quietly hovering in the doorway. He acknowledges me with a nod.