“You have a fan group,” I say, looking in their direction.
“So do you,” Dexter replies. I look around but don’t see anyone focused on me. That is until I turn back to them and see the four of them watching me, very interested.
It’s in that moment, under the twinkling lights and hard gaze of these four boys, that I figure it out. I’m the only one overthinking this. I’m the only one with hang-ups and rules and rigid expectations. So, I let go. I let go and sit on the blanket, surrounded by the Wayward Sons. There, we share leftover pie and drink from the same cup. When the music reaches a throbbing beat that none of us can resist, I let them lift me to my feet and dance. Swaying just like Sierra predicted. And as much as I want to kiss these boys, I don’t. They don’t cross any lines out here, other than gentle touches and flirty, gorgeous smiles. When the music ends and just before the fireworks begin, they take me to a quiet spot overlooking the lake and together we watch the sky burst in flames.
“This is fitting,” I say, watching the final fireworks explode. We’re huddled on a rock not far from where Jake and I read every morning.
“How so?” Dexter asks.
“The Fourth is about celebrating freedom and I know it’s about something different, about our country and patriotism, but for the first time I feel it, too.” I touch my heart. “I know what it’s like to be unchained, and I have you to thank for that.”
And right there under the pitch-black sky filled with a million stars, I kiss each of them, deeply and appreciatively.
21
I don’t leave the house when I hear the car doors slam at the house next door. I wait until they’ve driven out of view before I casually mention, “I’m heading over to grab a coffee from Sierra. Want something?”
“I’m fine. Tell her hello.”
“I will.”
It’s Monday afternoon—a slow time of day, and I’m pleased to see there are no customers inside when I push through the screened door.
“Starlee!” Sierra smiles when she sees me. “What can I get you?”
“Actually, I didn’t come in for coffee.”
“Ah,” she says, knowingly. “The boys just left for their meeting in June Lake. They should be back in a few hours.”
“Right. I know. I saw the car,” I confess. “I, uh, I wanted to ask you something.”
She waves me to the little table and chair in the seating area. Once we’re settled, she asks, “What’s going on?”
“I know about Dexter’s hearing and wanted to see if there’s something I can do. It’s not fair for him to get in trouble for helping me.”
She sighs. “Thank you for offering, but really this is between Dexter and the judge. He knew the consequences of his actions and although I know he stuck up for you, he could have made other decisions. He could have called for help, the police, removed you from the situation.”
“Things were tense in the moment.”
“I’m sure they were, but that’s life, right? Tense moments and how we handle them.”
I lean back in my seat, frustrated. “He doesn’t deserve more probation.”
“He has a good social worker, Starlee. I think she’ll do everything she can to help him.”
I touch a sugar packet in the holder on the table. “Can I ask you what happened to make him so angry?”
Her jaw tenses and with her gray eyes, she looks so much like Dexter it’s chilling. “When Dex was about thirteen, he started getting into trouble. Minor stuff at first that seemed to escalate over time. Back then it wasn’t fights, it was more trespassing and petty theft. Stupid shit he and his friends would do to out-do one another. When he was fifteen, he got busted for skipping school and put on probation for the first time. He and my parents got in a huge fight and took their car. That night he got pulled over for speeding and his friend had weed in his pockets. They got arrested. He was already on probation so he was likely looking at time in detention, until…”
I almost don’t want to ask, but I do. “What happened?”
“My parents got the call from the police station. On the way there, they got in an accident.” Her eyes fill with grief. “Neither of them made it.”
“Oh my god. That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
“Dexter was crushed. He felt a huge sense of guilt for them being out on the road that night. That guilt turned into anger and we’ve been dealing with it ever since.”
“Sierra…”