Kick, Push Page 41


I get out of the shower, make my way to the bedroom and open the only drawer that Natalie’s left untouched. I get dressed and sit on the edge of the bed, and that’s when I see it—a skateboard in the closet underneath a bunch of Natalie’s clothes. I get up and walk over to it, getting down on one knee so I can pull it out and look at it closer. And then all the air, along with any sense of hope I’ve had, leaves me.

I carry the skateboard to the kitchen. “What’s this?” I ask Natalie.

She looks up at me and smiles. “You weren’t supposed to see it! That Becca girl dropped it off a few days ago with a note that said she was working on it with Tommy as a Christmas present for you. It’s only half done so she gave it to me and said I could finish it with him if I wanted.” She shrugs and walks over to me, ruffling my hair. “She’s got a whole shoebox full of pictures of you and Tommy. Looks like someone has a borderline obsession with you. I’d be careful of that one.”

I look down at the board again.

“Are you going to eat?” she asks.

I lift my gaze. “Maybe later.”

 

There are cars parked in our street and I can hear a bunch of old ladies laughing from inside their house, but it doesn’t deter me. I raise my fist, hesitating only for a moment, before knocking on their door. I have no plan of what I’m going to say and absolutely no expectations of her reaction. The door opens and there she is, her hair down and her eyes wide and clear and emerald and perfect. God, she’s so perfect.

She inhales sharply and drops her gaze and only then do I get enough strength to look away from her face and down her body and the dress she’s wearing, modest but hot. Like always. Her chest heaves, matching my breaths—breaths that seem so loud in my head and before she has time to shut the door in my face, I tell her, “You look beautiful.” And I know it’s dumb to say that, but I don’t want her to ask what I’m doing and why I’m looking at her the way I am.

She looks down at her hands, now patting down her dress and then back at me, and her eyes…

Her.

Eyes.

God, I miss those eyes.

She points to the skateboard still in my hand.

I blink, pulling me out of my trance. “Natalie said that you came over and—”

She nods.

“You can finish it with Tommy. He’d like that.”

She shakes her head and pushes the door forward, her face half hidden behind it.

“Who is it, sweetheart?” Chaz calls out from behind her.

Becca opens the door wider and drops her gaze just as Chazarae stands next to her. Chaz doesn’t smile at me like she always does. She guides Becca out of the way, as if I’m here to hurt her in some way. And for the first time since shit went down with us, I wonder how much Chazarae knows and I wonder what she sees that I don’t. And worst of all, I wonder what she thinks about me. “Can I help you, Joshua?”

I clamp my mouth shut.

Chazarae sighs. “Okay. Well, we have guests,” she says, “and I don’t want to keep them waiting.” She points to Natalie’s car. “Maybe you shouldn’t keep yours waiting either.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I murmur, gripping the board tighter and turning away from her. She grasps my arm just as I’m about to step foot off the porch. I turn back around in time to see her closing the door behind her.

“I think it might be best if you don’t bother Becca anymore, Josh. Tommy’s always welcome here, but for now, while Becca is living in my house, I have to make her my priority, and I’m sorry. I really am. But Becca—she’s been through enough already, okay?”

I clear my throat, and let my shame and my self-loathing consume me. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Instead of returning to my apartment, I go back to my truck and pull out my every day board, then I skate out of the driveway and through the darkness of the streets until the chill of the wind makes my face numb and my muscles ache and I know it’s late enough that Tommy will be down and hopefully Natalie will be asleep.

She isn’t, though.

She’s sitting on the couch, a beer in her hand, staring down at her phone.

“I’ve been calling you,” she says, before I’ve even closed the door.

I pull out my phone and see the thirteen missed calls from her.

“Where have you been?”

I hide my eye roll and walk to the fridge where I pull out a beer of my own. “Nowhere.”

“Did you see that Becca girl? Are you guys, like, sleeping together?”

I lean against the fridge, my eyes on her. “What are you still doing here, Natalie? Why haven’t you left yet?”

She sets her beer on the coffee table in front of her and gets up; her gaze lowered as she makes her way to the kitchen. “I told you,” she says, still looking down at the floor. “I wanted to get to know my son.”

“And you can’t do that from your house?”

“I didn’t know I was such a burden. You’ve never mentioned anything before.” She looks up at me now—her insecurities and her doubts showing. “I don’t want to leave but if you make me I can’t stop it. I like being here, Josh. I like being with Tommy and I like being with you.”

“You’re three years late, Nat.” I sigh. “I’m taking back my bed. And don’t ever breathe Becca’s name again.”

 

 

24


-Joshua-


Christmas morning looks like Toys R Us vomited in the living room. To say that Natalie went overboard would be an understatement. I have no idea where she plans to put all this stuff because it sure as shit won’t fit neatly in my tiny apartment. Hopefully she’ll find her own place soon and she can take all of her shit with her.

I’m too busy picking up wrapping paper from every surface possible so Natalie beats me to opening the door only seconds after the knock sounds. “Hi Becca,” Natalie says, and I drop everything in my hands and bolt for the door. She nods at Nat and then takes a step back when I come into view. Tommy yells Becca’s name and for some reason this makes her cringe. She hands Natalie a box and points to the name on it: Captain LoonySpoon.

“Who the hell is Captain LoonySpoon?” Nat asks. I push her out of the way and close the door between us. Becca’s already two steps down the stairs when I grab her arm. “Becca, wait!” She stops in her tracks and slowly faces me.

Inside, Tommy’s crying, screaming Becca’s name.

“You can give him your present yourself, Becca.” I try to settle my nerves. “You’re allowed to see him. I’m sorry if I made you feel like—”

She shakes her head, cutting me off. Then grimaces as Tommy’s cry for her gets louder. She looks from the door to me, and then points to her arm.

“His arm is fine. It’s healing well. I told him the cast gives him super powers.”

Her throat bobs with her swallow and she nods. She starts to turn away but the front door opens and Tommy’s in Natalie’s arms, crying Becca’s name again. “I can’t control him,” Natalie snaps. She places Tommy on the ground and Becca gasps as soon he starts down the stairs to get to her. She lifts her hand, her palm up and he stops instantly. Slowly, she looks between all three of us standing on the landing and I wonder what the hell she could possibly be thinking.

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