When we don't know who to turn to, sometimes we turn to the ones we least expect.
Luke Salazar is a senior at Bay High School, and he's been pushed, shoved, and shut out for most of his life. Miles Jefferson has been the ringleader of a lot of that...
"What? Cancer?" I asked, my eyes filling with tears.
"I'm sorry, baby," my mom said, pulling me into her arms.
"Are you...going to die?" I whispered, looking up at her, tears falling down both our faces.
She wiped her eyes, looking up at the ceiling for a moment and then back at me. "Yes. There's nothing more they can do. Chemotherapy and the double mastectomy didn't work. The cancer has metastasized." When I looked at her in confusion, she explained. "That means the cancer has spread throughout my body. It's too big, too much for them to get rid of."
I fell apart then, and she held me close to her, trying to stop my tears, but unable to control her own.
"Miles...Miles, baby, wake up, please. You're having a nightmare," Rachel was saying.
I sat up fast, wiping tears from my cheeks. "I'm sorry."
She sat up against the headboard and pulled me into her arms. "Don't apologize. What happened?"
"It was the same nightmare I have at least once a week. The moment my mom told me she was dying of breast cancer."
"Oh God, Miles, I'm so sorry," she murmured, and I felt a tear fall from her cheek onto my bare shoulder.
"I miss her so much, Rachel. She was the only thing that kept my dad from beating my ass."
"I know...I know, baby. What can I do?" Rachel asked, kissing my cheek.
"Just stay," I said, and she nodded, clicking the lamp off and pulling me down to lie next to her.
When I woke up, it was 9:00 am, and my dad wasn't due to be home until tonight, unlike last time.
I propped myself up on my elbow, watching Rachel sleep. What I had said to her last time she was in my bed was true: I've never felt about anyone else the way I feel about her. I'd dated my share of girls at Bay High, and I've never even come close.
She's so beautiful, in every single way. I know I've told her that before, but I don't know if she really understands how I feel.
I love her.
I fucking love her.
Rachel
I stirred awake, and when I opened my eyes, Miles was gazing at me.
I covered my face with my hands. "Miles, please, I know I must look like shit," I groaned, starting to turn over.
He put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. "You're exquisite."
I blushed and turned to face him. "Stop—"
"Rachel, I need to tell you something."
My heart sped up. "What is it?"
He took a deep breath. "I know we've only been together for a few weeks, but I..."
I sat up a little. "What is it? Is something wrong?"
"God...this is so hard to say," he said, running his hands through his hair.
"You're breaking up with me, aren't you?" I blurted, tears springing to my eyes.
His blue eyes went wide, and he shook his head. "No, no, no! Hell no!"
I exhaled. "Thank God...then what is it?"
He reached out and pushed my hair behind my ear, running his hand down the side of my face and chin.
"Rachel, I—I love you."
My jaw dropped. "You—you love me?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I do." He looked at me for a moment and then said, "It's okay if you don't feel the same way. I mean, I know it's soon, so I understand if you—"
I cut off his rambling by moving on top of him, throwing a leg on either side of his lap. "I love you too," I replied, grinning.
His eyes brightened. "You do?"
"Yes, you dork," I said, putting my hands on his cheeks and pressing my lips to his.
Luke
I barely slept all night. All I could think about was that photo I saw in Miles' living room.
His dad not only looked like my dad, but there was something else that made it even more strange. I just couldn't put my finger on it...
"That's it," I said out loud as I jumped up and ran to the attic door, scrambling up the stairs.
The photo albums were stacked on a shelf in the back of the attic, and I fished through them until I found the one that had popped into my head.
I flipped the pages until I found the photo—two red-haired men with their arms around each other's shoulders, both wearing tuxedos.
It had to be at least twenty years old, but it was as I suspected: my father in a photo with Miles' pathetic excuse for a dad.
But why?
There was a nagging suspicion in the back of my mind...but it couldn't be.
Could my dad and Mr. Jefferson be...brothers?
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