Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

“You’re—”

We try to talk at the same time, laughing awkwardly at the exchange before he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Izzie really wants you to come.” I nod, looking over at her trying to carry an armful of paint palettes but turn back as he sighs, his gaze flitting about the studio. “You’re more than welcome to come if you want… for Izzie of course.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I reply, looking down at my hands.

“I won’t even talk to you if you don’t want me to.” His statement has me looking back up to him, seeing playfulness in his gray eyes.

I snort, glancing over at the kids. The war raging in my head is a losing battle for the side of me that wants to run and hide in my office, but the side that wants to go with them has me nodding my head against my better judgement.

“Sure, but on one condition,” I say as I turn back toward him and see him raise a brow at me in question. “You answer my question of why you were here last Friday.”

He waits a beat before nodding. “Sounds fair. Be ready around ten. Where should I…” He fidgets on the spot, his hands pushing inside his jeans pocket.

“My mom’s,” I say sheepishly, reeling off the address for him.

“Right... So, ten?” Izzie and Clay walk back over and he takes Izzie’s hand in his. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she squeals, looking up at us both with a hopeful look in her eyes.

Tristan chuckles and I stare after them as he pulls Clayton into him and walks out of the door so I don’t hear his reply to her.

I jump as my mom sidles up to me. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I overheard the conversation—”

“Listening in more like,” I grumble.

“So? I still heard what I heard.” She turns toward me, a serious look on her face. “Do you really think that this is the best move for you right now?”

“How could I say no to Izzie?” Or Tristan for that matter.

She sighs. “Be careful, Harmony, you’re playing in dangerous territory. You two have history; I don't want you getting hurt again.”

I wholeheartedly agree with her about everything she said; I’m even second guessing my split-second decision to go to the beach with them now. But it’s not like I have the intention of going because I want to spend time with him; Izzie’s hurt face when I said no was the only thing on my mind when I said yes, but I guess I can see how it looks to my mom.

“I will. I really didn’t think it through when I agreed to go, but I can’t let Izzie down now.”

She nods in agreement with me and claps her hands together, much like I do to signal the end of a session. “I guess we should get set up for the next class.”

She flits off and starts to wipe down the tables, but I’m still standing, staring at the door and thinking about what a stupid move it was to agree to go to the beach with them.

I pack the sandwiches in the cooler bag along with bags of chips, bottles of water, and cake. Can’t forget the cake—it’s Izzie’s favorite food. I close the lid when everything is in there, zipping it up before lifting it off the counter and walking toward the front door, placing it next to the beach bag that’s full of towels and sunscreen.

I remember a ti

me when going to the beach was simple; I’d jump in the car in my shorts, taking only a towel, not needing anything else. Now it’s not that simple; now I have to pack everything but the kitchen sink.

“Daddy!”

“Yeah, pumpkin?” I call back, walking toward the stairs and climbing them two at a time.

“Do you think Miss J will have a swimsuit?”

I smile wide as I make it to Izzie’s door, seeing that she’s packing her own bag, stuffing it with things that she’ll probably never even use.

“I’m sure she will have.”