The boys grow quiet and I’m surprised when he continues. “Things were hard for Sierra for a while.” He shrugs. “Supernatural helped her get through it. Baking a couple pies was the least I could do, under the circumstances.”
I don’t know exactly what those circumstances involved, but I can guess. They’re alone. His mother, at least, seems to be gone. He’s in and out of trouble. Sierra sacrificed a lot for him. She’s the Sam to his Dean. Or the Dean to his Sam.
I’m not sure yet.
The boys finish all their food and Charlie takes my
plate, not allowing me to clean up. I play with Growley in the yard, tossing a small plastic bone for him to fetch. There’s music and laughter coming over the fence from the lodge. Leelee was right, every day we got busier and more people were in and out of the lodge. I’d settled down from my encounter with Jordan earlier in the day and thankfully Charlie didn’t say anything. The others are in the kitchen but I spot him cleaning the grill, and I walk over.
“Hey, how’d your gaming session go?” Once we got to the house everyone was there and dinner prep was in full swing.
“Eh, I skipped it.”
“You what?” George asks from the doorway. His eyes are wide.
“Nothing,” Charlie mumbles and shrugs, focusing back on the grill.
George’s eyes flit between us and he vanishes back into the house.
“Maybe you can teach me that game another time.”
“Sure.” A smile lifts the corners of his mouth.
“And I wanted to thank you for coming to my rescue earlier. I don’t know what came over me.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Starlee. That guy’s a creep.”
“I don’t know. I think I was just being weird.”
He levels me a hard look and repeats, “Creep. Trust your gut.”
I can tell he means that, but what does that mean about what my gut is telling me now? How I feel safe and comfortable around these guys—even Dexter—who only makes me uncomfortable because he pushes all my buttons. That seeing them brings a smile to my lips, a flutter to my stomach. I’m excited to get up to see Jake every morning. To stumble upon George helping around the lodge. To have an excuse to ask Charlie for computer advice.
Once everything is cleaned up I say to the whole group in the kitchen, “I really should go back before Leelee sends out a search team. Thanks for dinner, it was great.”
A ripple exchanges between them, silent communication, that ends with Dexter looking at the floor and Jake busying himself at the counter. George says, “Come on Charlie, let’s walk Starlee back.”
“You don’t have to,” I reply, but I’m relieved.
“It’s no problem.”
It’s cooled off tremendously now that the sun has set, but my body is warm because I’m flanked by these two brothers. It’s the weirdest feeling to have companions—friends—boy-slash-friends. The biggest of my mother’s rules broken yet here I am, surviving and maybe even thriving.
We wind past the cottages and it’s no surprise that the most noise comes from the big one with Jordan and his friends. They’re hanging out by the fire pit, bottles of beer scattered on the picnic table. I’m not fearful of the scene, maybe just jealous how they all hang out with such ease. I do notice that Charlie’s shoulders seem to expand as we walk by and George walks a step closer to my side. Did he tell his brother what happened earlier? Is that why they’re both here?
“I wonder how late Ms. Nye will let them go before telling them to quiet down?” Charlie asks as we pass.
I feel silly thinking Jordan is watching me, so I don’t look to check. Paranoia is a bad thing.
“I think there’s a ten p.m. rule,” I say.
We approach the steps to my house. “Call us if you need any help with them, okay?” George says.
“Thank Sierra for letting me come for dinner.”
“We will.”
It’s the oddest moment, me standing on the porch just after dark—it’s like a date but there’s two boys in front of me and neither are my dates, thank goodness, because who would I pick over the other?