Feels Like Fire Page 3

  Lennon parks again, kills the engine, and rolls up his window. I roll up mine and meet him on the sidewalk. Nodding me toward him, he heads for the intersection. He grabs my hand and guides me swiftly across the crosswalk, glancing diligently back and forth like he doesn’t trust the stop lights to keep the traffic at bay.

  As soon as we’ve made it across MLK, Lennon drops my hand and his urgency has vanished. We walk in silence until we reach Kings. I follow Lennon through the open gate to the outdoor patio and we choose a table near a huge fan. The faux wind feels amazing against the heat of the fading afternoon.

  After the server has brought us our drinks, I slink into my seat and force my mind and my body to take a break from my new reality. If I try hard enough, maybe I can pretend I’m someone else. Or that Lennon is someone else.

  “So, what do you do?” I ask him, taking a sip of my sweet tea. The cold liquid passes down my throat, cooling me from the inside out. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was.

  Lennon gives me a funny look. “Lucas didn’t tell you?”

  I shrug. “I know you travel a lot. You make videos.”

  “Well, yeah. I do a lot of traveling. I’m a photographer, mainly. But yes, I also do videography. You’ve never seen any of my videos online?”

  I’m starting to feel bad. “I try to avoid the whole social media thing.”

  Lennon snickers. “You’re probably better for it.”

  “I just hate that whole game. Worrying about who does or doesn’t like what you post, and equating your worth with how many followers you have. It’s stupid.”

  “You’re right. It is stupid,” he says. “But that’s how I make a lot of my living.”

  “Okay, so tell me, then. What exactly do you do?” I should know this already.

  He pushes his hair back as he leans into his chair. “Well, I have a YouTube channel where I post vlogs and cinematic videos of the places I travel to. But I also take photos for a lot of influencers and other YouTubers. I’ve shot a few music videos.”

  “Wow. That sounds awesome.”

  “It is. I get paid to do my most favorite hobby. Like you could be doing.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

  Lennon sets his elbows on the armrests of his chair and clasps his hands over his abdomen. “I’ve seen your calligraphy, your paintings. They’re really good, Casey.”

  “How have you seen them?”

  “FaceTime,” he answers casually. “Lucas brags about you a lot.”

  I feel myself blushing and I want to smile and cry at the same time. “Oh.”

  “I’m serious,” Lennon continues. “You could easily have an online store or maybe a little shop downtown.”

  I shrug off his compliments. It’s not that I’ve never entertained pursuing my art; I’ve always assumed it was impractical and unrealistic. “I don’t know…”

  “It’s something to think about at least. Until then, being a kindergarten teacher is an honorable alternative.”

  He smiles a Lucas smile and I’m suddenly interested in a knot in the wood tabletop beside my sweating tea. “Yeah, thank God for summer vacation, am I right?” I say, raising my drink in toast-like fashion before sucking down the rest of it.

  After a short silence, Lennon scoots his chair back and stands. “I’m gonna run to the restroom real quick. If the server comes back, just order me whatever you’re getting.” He touches my shoulder with a “thanks,” then crosses the Astroturf to the side door of the restaurant.

  Like an idiot, I’m left critiquing the way Lennon walked away, his head high, his gait confident. Lucas was a bit insecure. He didn’t cower or shuffle with his head down, but he sure didn’t command attention with graceful strides the way his brother does.

  Why didn’t Lucas talk more about his best friend? Why didn’t I notice? Why didn’t I ask about him?

  The server interrupts my thoughts when she comes to take our order. I honor Lennon’s request and order him what I’m having—grilled cheese and fries. As the server hurries off, I start worrying that grilled cheese is the one thing Lennon hates. Or what if he’s lactose intolerant or vegan?

  Why don’t I know more about him?

  “Casey? Oh my God!”

  Nearly jumping out of my skin, I look up to see Rowan enter the gate and weave swiftly toward me through the tables. She throws her arms around me so tightly, I almost tip backward. I haven’t thought of my friends once since everything happened.

  “I’m so sorry, Casey,” she mutters against my ear. She pulls away and plops into Lennon’s chair diagonally from me. “I’m not going to ask how you are because I already know the answer.”

  “What brings you here?” I ask, changing the subject before I come undone again.

  “Michaela and I are supposed to have a few drinks at Green Bench with Jordan, but he’s running late so we’re taking a walk. Wait, where did Michaela go?” Rowan turns to gape at the sidewalk.

  I catch sight of our friend standing by the gate, one arm crossed over her body. She keeps looking at her phone like she’s pretending to be busy. Why didn’t she follow Rowan?

  “Get your ass over here, weirdo,” Rowan calls, waving her over. Rowan lets out an awkward chuckle and rolls her eyes as she turns back to me.

  Michaela approaches the table and lowers herself into the chair across from me, her farthest option. She doesn’t look at me.

  “Hey, Case,” comes her flimsy greeting.

  I don’t respond.

  “We’ve been so worried about you,” Rowan says after frowning at Michaela. “I’m sorry I’ve texted you so many times. I hope I wasn’t annoying you.”

  “Oh, no, it’s okay. I haven’t been ignoring you; I lost my phone.” My eyes dart to Michaela, but she’s looking at the TV hanging above the outdoor bar behind me as if she’s engrossed in whatever sports game is playing on mute.

  Rowan takes my hand. Her brown eyes are flooded. “Case…if there’s anything I can do to help you, anything at all, please tell me. I don’t know what to do for you and I hate it.”

  I give her hand a squeeze. “You’re doing just fine.”

  She lets out a small whimper. “Oh, good. Because I’ve been dying since I heard about Lucas, so I know it’s got to be so much worse for you.” She covers her mouth with her free hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No, don’t be sorry. We all love Lucas. We’re all allowed to express that,” I say, glancing again at Michaela. She’s texting. Or pretending to?

  I hear the door open, and I know Lennon has stepped out, because Rowan’s face has gone blank and her gasp is so loud, it catches even Michaela’s attention. She drops her phone.

  “Oh my God…” Rowan breathes, her eyes wide. “What the hell?”

  four

  Lennon

  Istop when I see the two new faces at our table. It’s not that I mind that we have company. It’s the way they’re staring at me that has my skin prickling with unease. These girls obviously don’t know that Lucas has a twin brother.

  Had.

  I’m trying my best to not care that Lucas apparently never talked about me. We spoke on the phone almost every day. How could he not tell the love of his life anything about his brother? It seems Casey knew only of my existence. Even then, her first instinct upon meeting was to believe Lucas was back from the dead instead of knowing it was me.

  I let out a heavy breath as I continue on to the table. Casey must be telling them who I am because their expressions have softened and they no longer look horrified at the sight of me.

  I pull out the remaining empty chair. They’re still staring as I sit down, like they don’t comprehend that I’m a real person.

  “So, Lennon, this is my best friend, Rowan,” Casey says. “Since freshman year of high school.”

  Rowan reaches over and shakes my hand. She smiles but it looks forced.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say.

  Her jaw clenches when she hears my voice. r />
  “And this is Michaela,” Casey continues. “We met through the coffee shop.”

  I offer my hand to Michaela, but she stands so fast, her chair almost topples over.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go.” She takes a pained look at me, then rushes off to the sidewalk and out of sight.

  “Wow. I am so sorry about her,” Rowan says, shaking her head. “She’s been really off since yesterday. That’s mainly why we’re meeting up with Jordan. We need a break from sitting around and crying, ya know?”

  Casey points back and forth between herself and me. “That’s why we’re here.”

  “I thought I was taking the news hard, but Michaela’s taking it really hard. Jordan thinks she was in love with Lucas.” Rowan’s face falls like she’s afraid she’s said too much.

  “No,” Casey says with an agitated snicker. “Michaela wasn’t in love with Lucas.”

  “Yeah, I doubt it. But either way, she’s being weird. I better go find her.” Rowan gets up and her phone goes off. She slides it from the back pocket of her denim shorts. “And Jordan is waiting for us. Unless you need me. Do you want me to stay?”

  Casey quickly glances at me. “No, it’s fine. Go ahead.”

  Rowan bends to hug Casey. “I love you, queso.”

  Queso? Oh, Caso. Like Case-o. I get it now.

  “I love you too, Ro.”

  Rowan turns to me. “It was nice to meet you.”

  I put on a half-smile. “Are you sure?”

  She lets out her breath like she’d been holding it in. “I know. I’m so sorry. I knew Lucas had a brother, but I had no idea you were his twin. It just caught me by surprise.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow to check in, okay?” Rowan says to Casey. “Find your phone.”

  Casey nods. Waving, Rowan walks off and we’re alone again.

  “Sorry about that,” Casey says, brushing a few stray wisps of hair away from her face.

  “Seriously, it’s fine.”

  She lets out a small, frustrated huff. “But both my friends and I have committed probably the most clichéd twin offenses. I promise you we’re not usually that ignorant.”

  “Twin offenses?”

  “Yes.”

  I watch her for a moment. I can tell she feels genuinely ashamed, which is silly because this is how most of my life has gone. It’s nothing new to be compared to or confused with my brother. Once, someone even flat out claimed they wouldn’t bother learning how to tell us apart because we’re ‘just the same anyway.’

  And I get it. Physically, Lucas and I differed mostly in ways only we and our mother could tell. I don’t see my brother when I look in the mirror—I see me. But I know that’s not the case with other people. Identical twins are fascinating, uncommon, and literally a biological phenomenon.

  Will all of that stop now that Lucas is gone? I’m not a twin anymore…am I?

  I blink away the sting of my emotions as the server brings out our food. I thank her with a thin smile. As I stare at the elaborate grilled cheese sandwich in front of me, I decide I don’t mind the stereotypical, possibly ignorant reactions from Casey or her friends today. I don’t mind being mistaken for my brother. I don’t mind that Casey has probably been searching for fragments of Lucas in me since I arrived, comparing and contrasting and sizing me up. Because it means I’m still a twin, and Lucas is still my brother.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I say.

  Casey glances up from the food she still hasn’t touched. “Sure.”

  “You knew we were twins. Right?”

  Her face scrunches up and she looks like a little kid. “Of course I knew.”

  “Identical though?”

  “Yes.”

  I sigh. “Did Luc tell you about me at all? Was he ashamed of me or something?” My throat closes up as I come unwound.

  “No, Lennon. It wasn’t like that. Lucas loved you. I think we were so wrapped up in each other when we were together, there wasn’t much of anything else.”

  “Lucas knew about your family,” I say.

  “Well, yeah, because he met them, and it was easy to complain to him about my passive doormat father, overbearing stepmom, and spoiled, stuck-up, teenage half-siblings.”

  I take a sip of my lemon water. “Yeah. Dylan and Annabelle sound terrible. And your mom left when you were four. Your dad married Sophie a year later. You moved here from Tampa when you were fourteen. You majored in elementary education at SPC. You met Lucas at Neon Pelican during your senior year, but you didn’t start dating till after you graduated.”

  I stop because Casey is staring at me wide-eyed like I’m scaring her.

  “For whatever reason, Lucas didn’t let you know me, but he let me know you,” I add.

  “I guess we have a lot of catching up to do,” she says.

  I almost smile. “Well, at least you know my birthday.”

  Casey does smile. “July 17th. That’s a given. Tell me more.”

  I clear my throat. “All right. For starters, my mom had us when she was seventeen. My father took off as soon as he found out she was pregnant. We moved here to St. Pete from Brooksville when we were six, after my mom inherited the house from her grandmother—”

  “I know all of that,” Casey says. “Tell me more about you.”

  “Right…well, after high school, I enlisted in the Marine Corps—infantry, then embassy guard. I served four years, deployed twice. Then I spent the next year exploring Europe and trying to find myself, which is how I discovered my passion for photography. I ended up in LA and I’ve lived there for two years now.”

  “You’re a marine?” Casey asks, her eyebrows raised.

  I chuckle sheepishly. “Well, I was. Probably never should’ve been.”

  She takes a bite of her sandwich. “Then why’d you enlist?”

  “I wanted to do something that mattered, I guess.” My answer sounds more like a question and I can tell that Casey isn’t buying it.

  She wipes her mouth with a napkin and I practically hear the gears spinning in her head. “That was probably part of your reason, right? But there was something else, wasn’t there?”

  I cast my eyes to my food and I’m not the slightest bit hungry anymore. “Yeah. Maybe.”

  She drops back in her chair and lets out a heavy breath. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I’m being nosy. Just because you feel familiar, doesn’t mean I can pry into your business.” Casey covers her face and groans. “And you only feel familiar…because you look exactly like Lucas. I’m doing it again. I’m horrible.”

  I lean forward and touch her shoulder. “Hey, no. You’re not horrible. Honestly, it’s a logical reaction. Especially since you never saw us together.”

  She slouches deeper in her chair.

  “It was a bad breakup,” I say.

  Casey’s eyebrows lift quizzically.

  “A really bad breakup,” I add, as my insides revolt against my trite explanation. “That was the something else.”

  Sympathy replaces her curiosity. “I’m sorry.”

  I impel myself to perk up. “It was a long time ago; it’s okay.”

  Casey rips a chunk of the crust from her sandwich and pops it into her mouth. She chews slowly and doesn’t look at me. We’ve hit an awkward lull and I wish I was hungry enough to excuse my silence with eating.

  “I’m not hungry either,” Casey says, as if she knows what I’m thinking. “I’m only eating because I probably should. Don’t need to be depressed and malnourished, right?”

  Chuckling, I pick up a half of my sandwich and take a bite. My stomach is suddenly clenching with ravenous hunger pains, like my body has finally remembered that it requires sustenance. It’s the first time I’ve eaten since my brother died.

  “So, what were you doing before you came here?” Casey asks, interrupting my scarfing.

  I swallow and take a drink. “I was in New York shooting a music vid
eo for a friend.”

  “Wow, that’s exciting. Anyone I’ve heard of?”

  “Uh, maybe. Jonah Tyler?”

  Her eyes widen. “Oh my God.”

  “You’ve heard of him, then.”

  She nods. “His song, ‘Write You Down’…that’s our song.”

  “Oh.”

  She brightens a bit. “So, you actually know him?”

  “Yeah, we worked together at a coffee shop in Tampa when I was in high school and Jonah was in college at UT. We lost touch over the years, but we reconnected while he was in LA working on his album last year.”

  “Wow, that’s awesome.”

  “Yeah, he’s a really good guy.”

  Casey’s eyes narrow. “Why didn’t Lucas tell me you know Jonah? That’s kind of a big deal. And he knew how special that song is to me.”

  I’m wondering the same thing, but I won’t tell her that. “Maybe he was planning to surprise you eventually? I don’t know.”

  She’s quiet for a moment. “So, you were shooting Jonah’s music video when you got the call?”

  She doesn’t have to elaborate; I know exactly what call she’s talking about. “We were taking our first break. I pulled out my phone and saw that I’d missed five calls from my mom. I called her back, and life as I knew it was over.”

  Casey nods knowingly. “She called me too. I’d gone back to sleep after Lucas left for work, you know, since it’s summer break. I rushed around like a lunatic getting dressed because she was coming to pick me up on her way to the hospital.” Realization flashes across her face. “That’s where my phone is! I threw it after your mom hung up.”

  “You threw it?”

  Casey bites her lip.

  I shrug. “Well, if there’s ever a rational time to chuck your phone across the room, I’d say that’s it.”

  She frowns. “I should go get it, though.”

  “All right. After we’re done here, I can take you home.”

  Casey straightens. “No. I don’t want to be there. I mean, I do need my phone, and maybe some clothes and stuff, but…I can’t stay there.”

  “Okay, that’s fine. You can grab whatever you need and I’ll take you back to my mom’s.”