A Summer Like No Other Read online

  “Are you sure you’re fine?” he asks.

  “You can’t answer my question with a question. That’s illegal. That should be one of our rules. Always answer questions honestly.”

  “Fine. I won’t tell Roberto you drank...unless he asks.”

  I nod and wince again. “And I’m not fine. My head is about to split in half.” I pause. “Did your dad tell you anything? I heard you fighting with him.”

  “He didn’t tell me shit. He keeps on telling me to mind my business.”

  “Maybe if I’m the one to ask him?” I whisper. “Maybe he would tell me what he knows?”

  “You can try, but I don’t think that’s going to work.” He’s hiding something. His face’s a bit closed off, but then it opens again. “Maybe you could ask your dad about it.”

  “I need to grow some lady balls. It’s funny how when I started to look, I had this fairy tale in my mind and now I’m scared to go forward, I’m scared of the answers,” I admit. “That’s why I didn’t talk to you last week. I knew if I saw you, we would end up talking about it. That, and I was weirded out about the fact your dad was involved in all this.”

  “Tell me about it.” He rubs the back of his neck and I glance at the tray, nibble on a waffle. He did that for me. He’s fighting with his dad for me. He’s there for me.

  My heart beats faster, remembering yesterday. What did he answer when I told him I liked him?

  I could ask him. I could simply go ahead and ask him if maybe, maybe he likes me too. If we were still in sixth grade I could pass him a note.

  Why can’t I ask him? I kissed him the other day and it was a pretty amazing kiss. He kissed me back. I know he did. If I hadn’t played it off, we might still be making out now. Days later, we would have never left the dance studio. Maybe, he never would have told me about what he overheard. Maybe it would have all been simpler.

  “There, I brought you an aspirin too. It should help.” Instead of dropping it in my open palm, he carefully sets it on the tray, as if he’s afraid we could inadvertently touch.

  “I’m going to take a quick shower and brush my teeth.” I stand up. And then turn to him. Wanting to say something. Wanting to ask him. Wanting to hear his answer.

  Nick clears his throat. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

  He stands up, and hurries out of the room without another word.

  Maybe it’s an unspoken answer to my unspoken question.

  CHAPTER 16 – NICK

  “Let me walk you.” I lean against the door as Em puts on her flip-flops. “Let me do the gentleman thing here.” I smile my most charming smile, the one that usually gets me out of trouble easily.

  “I need some time alone,” she says.

  “You’re breaking my heart,” I tease her, but I’m not getting the expected reaction.

  “Am I?” she mutters, looking up at me and then glancing away. “I can walk the ten minutes by myself. I need a bit of time anyways.” She pauses. “I’ll call you after I talk to them.”

  “Okay. I’m going to talk to my dad again. Not that I have high hopes for what he’s going to tell me.” We stand in front of one another awkwardly.

  I’ve never noticed until now how much preparation or thought there is behind saying goodbye to someone. Should I hug her? And if I hug her, for how long? And I think Em got my balls tied somewhere in her bag.

  She leans forward at the same time as I do and we barely avoid a head-on collision. This time, she smiles and it’s genuine and it’s making it difficult to not pull her to me. Like this morning, in the guest bedroom. She’s going through such a tough time and all I think about it tasting her lips again, feeling her body underneath mine, making her laugh, discovering every inch of her skin, forgetting the real world and creating our own.

  She grabs her picnic basket and kisses my cheek quickly before hurrying out of the door. My eyes follow her silhouette until she disappears around the corner.

  “Nick!” my father yells from his office. He’s been here all along and he hasn’t even come out to acknowledge Em’s presence. Way to go, Dad. Way to show me how to be a man.

  “Nicholas!” he calls again and I slam the door.

  “What?”

  “I need to talk to you.” His voice sounds super calm, and it’s always a bad omen when he’s too Zen.

  I’m tempted to ignore him. Ignoring him would only anger him though, so that might not be the best strategy.

  “I’m coming,” I reply and drag my feet past the dining room into his large office. His diplomas are all over the wall and above the fireplace, he has a portrait of his own father, the one who started Grawski & Sons. He’s staring at me like I’ve done something wrong. Pretty much the same look my father has right now.

  “We need to talk, son. Please, sit down,” he says, gesturing to one of the two empty leather chairs in front of his imposing desk. I lick my dry lips. Em’s kiss seems so far away. “What’s going on?” I ask.

  He taps his index finger on the globe standing by his lamp. He’s the one who asked to see me, who summoned me in here, who made it seem like it was urgent, but now he has all the time in the world. One of his many tactics. He stops tapping and purses his lips before answering. “I understand you want to have fun this summer, but is Emilia really the best choice you have?”

  “You used to like Emilia and her family,” I reply.

  “Used to being the operative words here, son. And I need you to think very carefully about all of this.”

  “Do you need be to be so careful because of Em’s adoption? Why don’t you answer me? Why don’t you tell me why you even know something about it?”

  “This has nothing to do with her adoption. And her adoption has nothing to do with what I’m telling you right now. Em’s a good girl. She’s smart and pretty, I get it. But she’s not the one for you. She has a lot of baggage, and her future is uncertain.” He pauses. “You and I have a deal.”

  I cringe but nod.

  “Do I need to remind you that if you do not fulfill your side of the agreement, I will stop all donations to the school, I will stop paying your tuition, I will step down as member of the foundation."

  “I remember,” I reply. If he steps down as member of the foundation, I’m pretty sure my career will be doomed. It would be hard to hire someone whose father brought down such a prestigious institution like the School of Performing Arts. And I have no doubt he would do it without blinking.

  “You’re supposed to actually show up at work this summer. You’re only interning three days a week—that’s not a lot.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. I’ll be there on Monday.”

  “Fine.” He crosses his arms. “I also wanted to talk to you about your mother.”

  “We should go see her. We used to go see her when she went to the spa. Make a field trip out of it.”

  He sets his elbows on the desk, leaning forward. “I don’t have time. Work is very busy.”

  “Driving from New York to Connecticut takes about two to three hours. It’s not that far and if we go with the driver, you could still work in the car.” I hate my voice for sounding needy. Like I’m back to being a ten-year-old begging for him to go trick-or-treating with me.

  He blinks once, but then leans back in his chair. “Your mother and I are having some issues.”

  “I know.” I lean back in mine, mirroring his gesture. I know all his tactics to destabilize the person in front of him and I won’t let him win.

  He clears his throat—very unlike him. “We’re thinking about getting separated for a bit.”

  “I know,” I say again, staring at him, analyzing his face to see if there’s any hint of regret. There’s nothing. Only exasperation that I don’t do as he pleases.

  “Anyways. Enough about that.” He pauses. “I have something else to ask you.”

  I don’t like where this is going. He only asks me to do stupid things for his job: run errands, show up at fundraisers, and spend time with the daughters
of possible clients. Like Jen five months ago. Like Maria ten months ago. I do change girlfriends very easily and he’s not to blame, but some of those girls I only dated because of him.

  “I need you to entertain Jen again.”

  Shit. I can’t do that now. Not with everything that’s going on with Em.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Are you pimping me out?”

  “Watch your mouth.” He squares his shoulders and leans forward on his desk again, boring his eyes into mine and tapping his fingers on the lamp. “I’m only reminding you of our deal.”

  I don’t want to think about our deal. Not when it can hurt Emilia,

  “Our deal was for me to behave and to think about my options. Not to screw some random girl because you said so.”

  Dad slams his fist on the desk in a rare outburst of emotion. “I never asked you to screw her. I would never ask you to do anything like that. I only want you to remember that you have duties here too. It’s not only do-as-you-please at your dance school, it’s not only about what Nick wants!”

  “That’s right, it’s all about what you want. Dino wasn’t helping you with your shitty deals anymore so you fired him. I’m not doing as you please, so what, you’re going to fire me too?”

  “Don’t tempt me, Nick. Do. Not. Tempt. Me.” His tone is back to being super calm, very even.

  “Whatever.”

  “And let me tell you something else. You stay out of Dino’s affairs. You’re so narrow-minded. You think you have all the answers? You have none. You leave Claire out of everything and you leave Emilia alone.”

  I bow to him as graciously as possible. “Yes, sir. Yes.”

  And then turn on my heels and slam the door.

  CHAPTER 17 - EM

  “Hi honey,” Mom says when I enter the kitchen. I haven’t even changed yet, and she frowns. “Hope you had fun yesterday. Luckily, Nick texted me to let me know you were staying over there.”

  Oh, that’s why I didn’t have thousands of voice mails or frantic messages. “It was...interesting,” I reply and Dad raises an eyebrow.

  “Roberto told us you and Nick ended up going to the fireworks by yourself. But he didn’t say anything about you spending the night. We didn’t know until almost midnight that you were going to sleep in his guest bedroom.” Dad emphasizes the word “guest.” “It was okay for you two to do that when you were ten, but you’re older now. I don’t think it’s such a good idea to spend the night at Nick’s.” Dad can’t even look me in the eyes.

  Mom clears her throat. “What your father is trying to say...is...”

  “Did you ever have that conversation with Roberto?” My voice sounds pissy, but I can’t help but fume. I didn’t have a good night's sleep. I can’t remember half of yesterday and no one wants to answer my questions. Dad must know more than what he lets on. And now this BS?

  “Emilia,” Dad replies.

  “I mean it. Roberto used to not come home for an entire weekend. And I only recall you telling him to be careful. And to have fun. Those were your words. Why can’t I be careful and have fun too? Whatever it is you meant?” My voice rises. “And let’s not tiptoe around every single topic. You don’t want me to hang out with Nick.”

  “Em!” Mom protests. She shakes her hand. “We do want you to be careful. To be careful with your feelings. Nicholas is great, but...”

  “Nick is the only one who’s speaking the truth to me. He’s the only who’s trying to help me find my real parents.” I look down, not wanting to see the way my mom flinches, not wanting to see the way my father’s eyes widen, not wanting to see how my words hurt.

  “We told you we would help you. We are helping you,” Mom says, her voice faltering and my heart breaking.

  “Em, do not use this tone with us.” Dad stands up. I’ve forgotten how tall and imposing he is, but I won’t back down. Not this time.

  “Do you remember Claire Carter, Dad? And why does Nick’s father have documents about my adoption?”

  Dad’s mouth gapes open for only a second, but I see it. I see he’s taken aback. Mom shakes her head. “What are you talking about? Nick’s dad helped us with some of the paperwork for your adoption. But that’s the legal part of it—he doesn’t know anything else.” She chews on her lip. “And Claire was your father’s assistant a long time ago; what does she have to do with anything?”

  I cross my arms on my chest. “Yes, Dad. What does Claire Carter have to do with anything?”

  “I don’t know what you and Nick think you have uncovered but you’re ridiculous, both of you!” He sounds annoyed but then he takes a deep breath as if to calm himself. He sits back down, and attempts to smile soothingly at my mom. “Nick’s dad helped with some of the paperwork. And Claire was my assistant at the time.”

  “That’s bullshit!” I say and wince. I never curse in front of my parents. “There’s more to it than this and you know it. Mom doesn’t but you know it. And I'm going to find out what it is.”

  I hurry out of the room, stomp up the stairs to the sound of my father telling me I’m grounded, of Mom asking him what's going on, and I slam the door.

  I start up my computer and type “Claire Carter” and “Wraswki & Son.” Her LinkedIn profile shows up. I click on it. She’s pretty: she’s got brown hair, kind of like mine. I lean closer. Could she be my mother? And what would it mean? Oh my God, did Dad have an affair with her? Is that it? Is that why Mom’s not supposed to know?

  I shiver and close the laptop. Maybe I shouldn’t dig any deeper. Maybe I’m about to fuck up everything more than it already is. Maybe, I’m going to hurt the people I love.

  I lie down on my comforter, thinking about all possibilities. Again. Maybe she’s only the one who took care of the paperwork. My cell rings and I smile, seeing Rob’s face on the display. I need a distraction and I need brotherly advice. “I’m so happy you’re calling. How is Cape Cod?”

  He sighs loudly. “Drop the act, Em. One, why on Earth did you sleep at Nick’s last night?”

  “Because I got drunk.” I can’t help but sound defensive.

  “This is getting better and better.”

  “And you sound like Dad.”

  “Well, maybe he has a point.”

  I stand up and pace around the room. “That’s funny because you didn’t seem to think he had a point when he first forbade you to date Jim.”

  “That was different and you know it. Jim was dealing drugs.”

  I roll my eyes. “And Nick is what?”

  “Nick can’t keep a girlfriend longer than a few weeks. Nick’s dad fired ours.”

  I want to scream. “You still talk to Nick. That has nothing to do with that.”

  “It doesn’t, but that means you should understand Dad a bit more. He’s afraid for you. We’re worried for you. We know what’s best for you.”

  I hang up. I can’t hear this any longer. Everyone’s lying and pretending.

  Everyone tells me what I should do. I change into comfier clothes, grab my gym bag and head back downstairs. Mom and Dad are no longer in the kitchen and I know Mom’s going to come and check on me very soon.

  Even if I’m pissed, I still don’t want them to worry. I grab the notepad by the phone and scribble, “Gone to the School.”

  And I head out, texting Nick. “I’m on my way to rehearse. Come?”

  I’m going to be the one deciding what’s best for me.

  CHAPTER 18 - NICK

  My father wanted me to come to some sort of meeting with him, some teleconference he’s having with partners from London. He doesn’t know what a day off is, and if he thinks we can forget our conversation and move on, he’s delusional.

  I push open the door of the rehearsing room. Em’s already there, listening to her iPod playlist on the stereo—the one I made for her when we were hanging out during winter break. She’s dancing as if all movements mean the world to her, as if if she stops dancing she’s going to fall apart.

  “That was amazing!” I tell her when the
music stops.

  “Whatever. It’s all bullshit.” She’s sweating and breathing hard.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Everything is great, wonderful, splendid.”

  But her voice is breaking.

  I step closer to her, closer until I’m so close that I can touch her. One of my hands falls on her shoulder. She doesn’t stiffen like I thought she would. I tilt her head toward me with my other hand.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask for the second time.

  “Nothing,” she whispers and I’m about to call her on her bullshit, when her gaze focuses on my lips. The last time that happened we had the best make-out session of my life.

  She wraps one hand behind my neck and whispers, “I remember yesterday, I told you I really, really like you.”

  “Hmm. I remember,” I reply and then even though I know I shouldn’t be kissing her, there’s no way in hell I’m pushing her away. She’s too close, too intoxicating, too fucking sexy. When her lips brush mine, it’s like we’re both on fire. It’s like our lips have been waiting to meet again, waiting to be together again, never wanting to let go.

  I’m hard instantly. And when she whispers my name, I get lost in the moment. I nudge her mouth open and kiss her like I always wanted to, with everything I’ve kept bottled up for the past year, like it could be our last kiss. It should be our last kiss, but I can’t get enough. My hands roam her back and then she’s against the mirror, and one of her leg wraps around my waist.

  And I’m about to explode. She molds to my body so perfectly and I love the way she feels in my arms, like she belongs there.

  But then, I remember my rules. I remember I’m not supposed to be kissing her. I remember my promises to Roberto. I remember she feels insecure and sad right now. I pull back gently.

  She bites her lip—that’s what she does when she’s unsure. I kiss her one last time, a small peck, something to reassure her that I don’t regret kissing her. Because I don’t. But I’m not sure what to do.