My head pounds as I place my helmet on the back of my bike. I've been aimlessly riding around town for the last three hours and I desperately need something to eat.
As I make my way onto the lawn, something in my periphery catches my attention. Or I should say someone. I turn and see her sitting in her old spot on her bench, stopping me dead in my tracks.
She looks different from last summer. Her hair is longer, lighter, too. She'd always kept hers short while I'd kept mine long. It looks good, though. Anything looks good on her.
Anything except the look on her face. From all the way over here, I can tell that something's different. Wrong. The fact that she's wearing a sweatshirt in this heat makes me all the more cautious. Kieran doesn't wear sweatshirts during this time of day, especially not if she's in that spot.
"Almost didn't recognize you," she says, getting to her feet. "Where'd your hair go?"
I meet her at the fence. "Thought it was time for a change," I say with a shrug. "It's nice to see you, Denver,"
She rolls her eyes. "I doubt it, but sure."
Closer now, the sadness in her eyes is apparent. There are dark circles around her eyes that definitely weren't there last summer. Her eyes are red, puffy, as though she'd been crying.
Instead of asking if she's okay, I ask, "What's with the sweatshirt?"
Her brow furrows slightly before she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. The sadness seems to dissipate, only to be replaced by irritation.
She scoffs, cocks her head. "What is wrong with you?"
"What?"
She opens her mouth, likely to give me shit for what I did wrong, her face red, but someone calls her name from the backyard. She turns in time to see her cousin, Andrew, walk over.
"Nani wants to know why you're outside when you said you'd be taking a nap," he says to her, that casual smile on his face.
She sighs. "And you told her you'd find out?"
He shakes his head. "Nope. She wants to hear it from you,"
"Great," she says, walking off.
Not a goodbye, not an explanation as to what I did wrong this time.
I turn to Andrew. "What did I say wrong?"
His brow furrows. "You tell me,"
"All I asked was why she was wearing a sweatshirt,"
His smile fades. "Now why would you ask a stupid question like that?"
"What?" I ask, a little frustrated. "What is so wrong with that question?"
His brow furrows. "You don't know?" he asks. "How could you not know?"
"Andrew, what don't I know?"
He clears his throat. "There was a fire. Her parents…well, they didn't make it."
The pounding in my head worsens.
"Kieran tried going into the house and burned her forearms before firefighters could stop her,"
No. There's no way.
"Her parents passed?"
He nods. "Lucas, where the hell have you been?"
I shake my head, not sure if I'm really processing the information just thrown at me.
God. Kieran.
"Are you okay?" Andrew asks me, his tone softer now.
I nod a few times, my feet already moving. "Yeah, yeah. Uh, I'll see you later,"
"Lucas,"
I ignore him, speed walking into the house. My heart is just about ready to fucking jump out of my chest. How the fuck did I not know about this?
Her parents are gone. The nicest, most accommodating people I'd ever met. The people who treated me like their own, better than my own parents ever have.
I can't believe this. How did I not know?
This is a small town. Everyone knows everything about each other, especially the Darjee family, who own most of the businesses in town. Surely everyone knows about this.
To be fair, I have been a little - maybe a lot - checked out these last few months. With graduation looming, I'd been battling a few demons, and when it was over, I guess I couldn't properly process it.
I make a beeline for my room and fall onto the bed. Every cell in my body is vibrating. I wipe my suddenly sweaty palms on my t-shirt.
The only thought in my head is how Kieran is doing, how she's coping. She doesn't have the best coping management skills. I don't know if she'd even speak to me after today.
Frantic, I pull out my phone, sending her a message on Instagram. A simple 'can we talk' can go a long way. At least I'm hoping.
"Lucas," a voice calls from my bedroom door. "Did you hear me?"
I shake my head. "No, sorry,"
My aunt's brow furrows. "Your dad is coming to visit this week,"
I sit up. "Why?"
"He wants to see you, to talk to you about something,"
"He's sent me emails," I say with a nod.
"Why haven't you answered them?"
"Because I don't care about what he has to say," I snap.
She takes a step into the room. "What is going on with you?"
It clicks then.
"You knew about Kieran's parents,"
Her face falls. "I did," she says with a nod.
"And you didn't think to tell me?"
"And what good would that have done?" she asks me, hands on her hips. "You've been off for months. You barely spend any time at home. All you've done is work, ride that bike and workout. I don't know what's been going on with you, but telling you that the people you loved as your own parents were gone wouldn't have done you any favors,"
"That's not your decision to make,"
"Yes, it is. You're my kid, Luke. I look after you, I take care of you,"
"I'm not a kid anymore, Aunt Maggie," I remind her. "And I deserve to know that the only people other than you who have ever treated me like I matter are gone,"
"Luke," she says, voice gentle, as she inches toward the bed.
I shake my head. "You should've told me,"
"I'm sorry,"
I swallow the bile building in my throat. "I had the right to know,"
"I know,"
I shake my head, tears streaming down my face despite my effort to keep it in. The bed dips as Aunt Maggie sits next to me, her arms immediately going around me.
"I'm sorry, Luke," she says. "I know how much they meant to you,"
She doesn't, though. She doesn't understand how much they've done for me since moving here. She doesn't understand that they made me feel like I was important when I've felt anything but my entire life.