Free From Where I Watch You by Shannon Grogan Page B

I want you to know that I understand. I know how it feels.”
    Thank God, because I don’t want to talk about it, either. “Thanks.”
    Hayden stays silent for a solid minute. I could congratulate him for not filling the silence with more condolences or the need for more details.
    “She drowned, right? Your sister?” he finally says. “I knew someone who drowned, too.” He reaches out to pick at an old scratch in the table.
    I shake my head. “Look, your friend probably didn’t drown like Kellen did. Like, how many people are stupid enough to get drunk at a party and then fall into a swimming pool in October? Who does that?”
    There’s a clang in the kitchen that makes me flinch. Raul’s obviously dropped something again. But Hayden doesn’t seem to notice. Instead he rubs his neck with one hand and starts tapping his fingers on the laptop with the other, frowning at the screen.
    I sit back and offer nothing more because I really don’t want to talk about Kellen. Another clang from the back fills the silence and I wonder if I should go check on Raul to make sure he didn’t fall or something, anything to get us off the topic of my sister.
    Hayden closes the laptop. “Sorry about that. I mean . . . I hate when people are only half-there, but I do it all the time.”
    I nod. A rush of warmth goes through me.
    “You seem pissed at her, Kara.”
    “Huh? Oh. Can we talk about something else please?”
    “Sure.”
    “Where’s your girlfriend?” I hear myself ask.
    “Ah . . . we’re on a break.”
    Before Charlie came back, this news probably would’ve put me over the moon. “Sorry.”
    “I’m not. Hey, remember a couple of weeks ago when we talked about my grandma, the baker? Remember I told you she was Greek? And she couldn’t speak English so she showed her love by baking us treats?”
    I don’t remember at all. But he smiles and the fact that I notice again how incredibly good-looking he is makes me feel bad about Charlie for some reason. I don’t remember us talking about his Greek grandma ever, do I? But it doesn’t matter since I forget stuff all the time.
    He continues. “She reminds me of you a little.”
    “Thanks, Hayden. I remind you of your grandma. Nice.”
    “No, no. Just in her dedication to what she loved doing. Baking. Like you. That’s why you remind me of her. It’s a compliment, trust me. Back in her village she baked for everyone. That was before she came to America. I miss her baklava.”
    “Really, Hayden? A village?”
    He nods like everyone lives in a village, and I feel dumb so I quickly say, “Give me her recipe and I’ll make it for you sometime.”
    Hayden’s arm is practically around me and I feel the soft cotton of his sleeve against my neck under my ponytail. When he leans down, strands of his dirty blond hair fall over his forehead and his lips are inches from mine.
    “You’d do that for me? Make me her baklava?”
    “Mm-hmm. Phyllo dough is kind of tricky but I can do it.”
    Outside the shop a face peers in. If it weren’t for the letterman jacket catching my eye, I wouldn’t have noticed him staring in at us. What the hell? Maybe now that he’s seen Hayden he’ll leave me alone.
    I’m just about to tell Hayden but all thoughts are gone because he’s caught my chin in his fingers. His eyes flicker back and forth between my eyes and my mouth and then his lips are on mine.
    “Thank you, Kara.”
    I don’t have time to think about how quick the kiss is because he kisses me again, harder.
    A thousand and one thoughts are going through my mind.
    You’re just a fuckin’ baby, Kara.
    It feels wrong. My arms were dangling at my side, but now I push my hands into his chest. He sits back and shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. My lips tingle. Before Charlie came back, I’d pictured this moment with Hayden a gazillion times, and in my dreams I’d been happy and floating on air. But my mind is taking me somewhere else, back to a memory, and