We hadn’t exactly made things easy on them. Whether it was just the nature of a family of five boys, or because we were all a little messed up from losing our parents—probably both—we’d been rowdy. Troublemakers, even.

Maturity was calming us down, at least a little. And I was doing my best to get—and keep—my shit together. As the oldest, it was my responsibility to be the man of the family, especially since Grandad had passed away a few years ago. I hadn’t always done a great job at it, but I was trying.

However, I was seriously considering moving out—getting an apartment in town. I was twenty-one, three years out of high school, and itching to have my own place.

Still, I was worried about leaving, even if I’d only be a mile or two away.

Gram cut a piping hot piece of pie and brought it to the table. Slid it in front of me and handed me a fork with a wink.

“What troubles you, Bear?”

“Nothing.”

“Hmm.” She got her tea from the counter and sat across from me. “Grace is home for the summer.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You could go next door and see her.”

I took a bite of pie without meeting her eyes. “I’m sure she’s busy. I’ll see her at some point.”

Gram didn’t reply, just kept watching me eat.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She took a sip of her tea.

“Gram, stop. You do this every time she comes home for a break. We’re friends, but that’s all.”

“Friends can be excited to see each other when it’s been a while.”

I shrugged.

When she spoke again, her voice was soft. “It’s okay to miss her, Bear.”

She didn’t mean miss her because I hadn’t seen her since Christmas, and I knew it. She meant miss the way we used to be. We hadn’t just been close, we’d been inseparable. As kids, Grace and I had been best friends. Basically glued to each other.

Not anymore.

We sat in silence for a while. Gram sipped her tea and I devoured the slice of pie. It was the perfect blend of tart and sweet, with a flaky crust that melted in my mouth.

I ate my last few bites, still thinking about Grace. The last time I’d seen her, the distance between us had felt like a canyon. It had sucked, but after she’d gone back to school, I’d mostly put her out of my mind. I was busy all the time, so that had made it easier. But now she was home, and I once again had to face the truth.

I had a thing for Grace. I had for a long time. And I’d never told her. Never told anyone.

I had my reasons, and it didn’t matter now anyway. She was dating someone else. In a few short months, she’d go back to school. And maybe next summer would be the year she didn’t come back home.

Thinking about a world without Grace—my world without her—was putting me in a shitty mood. Maybe I needed more pie.

“This was amazing.” I gestured to my empty plate, then stood and took it to the counter where the pies were cooling.

“Don’t even think about it, Bear.” Gram wagged her finger at me. “You want more, you go pick me more strawberries.”

“There’s two more in the oven.”

“I expect we’ll have company soon.” She paused to sip her tea. “In fact, go next door and ask Naomi and the kids to come on over before that wild pack of wolves you call brothers gets back.”

I shot Gram a look. I should have known she’d have an ulterior motive for giving me the first slice of pie.

“Go on, now,” she said, shooing me with her hand. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”

With a soft chuckle, I put my plate in the sink and lifted my hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

I gave Gram a kiss on the head, then left to go tell Naomi and Elijah—and Grace—that we had pie.

3

Grace

I always had mixed feelings when I came home from college.

On the one hand, it was good to see my family. My mom and I were close, and I missed her when I was away at school. My little brother, Elijah, was growing up so fast he was taller every time I saw him. And I really did like my hometown. I wasn’t one of those people who’d left because I hated where I’d grown up. Tilikum was a quirky place, but it was home.

On the other hand, going away to college was a step forward, and coming home felt like taking two steps back. Like this house, and this town, resisted my efforts at growing up. I was trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted for my life. It was hard to do that here.

I pulled a stack of shirts out of my suitcase and set them in the open dresser drawer. Living in my childhood bedroom exacerbated the sense that I was being pulled backward in time. Not much about it had changed. Same twin bed shoved against a wall. Same pink comforter I’d had for years. Whitewashed dresser and nightstand with pink drawer pulls. A beat-up desk we’d found at a garage sale when I was twelve. I’d taken all my old posters down last year. They’d mostly been boy bands and a movie series I’d been obsessed with for a while. Now the walls were almost bare.

My eyes darted to the bulletin board in front of my desk. It was still covered with a collage of photos. Seventeen-year-old me holding a newborn Elijah. Another one of my little brother, taken last summer in Gram’s kitchen. A few pictures of me with my high school girlfriends, including us in prom dresses. We’d gone as a group instead of taking dates.

But mostly, they were of me and Asher.

The two of us at the graduation party the Baileys had thrown for me in Gram’s backyard. Sitting in the back of his grandad’s old truck when we were in middle school. Us at ten and eleven, with dirty faces and skinned knees, hanging from the branches of the big tree out by the creek.

My favorite was one my mom had taken on my eighth birthday. Something had upset Asher—I couldn’t remember now what it had been—and he’d gone outside by himself. I’d brought him a balloon to make him feel better. Mom had captured the moment I had handed it to him—the two of us standing apart, our arms outstretched, the balloon floating between us.

Leaving my suitcase half-unpacked, I wandered over to the window. My bedroom was the smallest in our little house, but I’d always insisted on keeping it. I’d wanted it for the view. This room faced Gram’s house—and Asher’s bedroom window.

As kids, we’d waved to each other from these windows. Signaled each other with flashlights after dark. Taped up Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas signs for each other to see.

At some point, we’d stopped. But every time I came home, I still found myself gazing at his square of glass. Missing those times.

Missing him.

The last time I’d seen Asher had been at Christmas. It had been good to see him, but it had also been a painful reminder of how things had changed. How we’d grown apart.

It made me think of a story Gram had once told me, about a seed buried in the dirt. She’d said something inside the seed knew when the temperature was just right, and the sprout would break through the casing. Then it had to struggle through the soil for a while, pushing past pebbles and roots, before finally breaking the surface to find sunlight.