Faster We Burn

could wipe them away.
    “I’m being stupid,” she said, moving so I could get out from under her. “I’m sorry. That was impulsive and stupid.” She pulled her knees up on the seat and I sat beside her.
    “Look, you may think that your mom is being crazy, but everything she’s doing is because she loves you. She loves you so much she’s trying to protect you from the scary pierced and tattooed guy. Most mothers would have the same reaction.”
    “You’re not scary.”
    “To a mother with a daughter, I am. To be fair, you didn’t give her a good warning about who was going to show up. You could have given her a heads up. Why didn’t you?”
    She shook her head.
    “I don’t know.” Refusing to look at me, she just stared at the half-finished drawing on her hand and wrist.
    “Tell me the truth, Katie. Did you not tell her about me on purpose to make a point? To piss her off?”
    Her head rose and her red eyes met mine.
    “Is that what you think of me?” she whispered.
    “Is it true?” It wouldn’t have surprised me if it was, even if she wasn’t aware that was what she’d been doing.
    She shook her head and put her hands in the air.
    “I don’t know, Stryker. Maybe a little. She just made me so mad about Zack. But it’s not just that. Not anymore.”
    She traced one finger on the design I’d made.
    “But I told you, I can’t do this. The relationship thing. Not with you. Yes, maybe I was using you, and I’m sorry. I guess I get the douche award today.”
    I nodded, since I’d expected as much. So why did it bother me? I slid away from her and got out, pulling open the driver’s side door.
     “Are you leaving?” she said, getting out of the backseat and standing behind me.
    “I don’t belong here, Katie. I don’t want to cause problems between you and your family.” I should have turned around the second I walked in the door, but I’d thought maybe I could make it work, but I’d been fooling myself. For a few moments, I’d imagined what it would be like to be a member of her family, but it would never happen. Could never happen.
    “Why did you come?” She put her hand on the door so I couldn’t move it.
    “Because you invited me and I thought it would be nice to see what a Thanksgiving is supposed to look like. I’ve never had one before.”
    She pulled in a quick breath, as if I’d said something that shocked her.
    “Way to make me feel like shit, Stryker.” She stepped back and looked up at the sky. “Why do you put up with me?”
    “I ask myself that question a lot. I still haven’t come up with an answer.”
    She tipped her head to the side and squinted at me.
    “Come on. Let’s go back inside. Dad’s probably got mom under control enough. Why don’t you bring your violin? You’ll seduce everyone with your musical genius. You don’t have to stay the night. Just for an hour.”
    She gave me a smile and it was the kind that a girl could use to sweet talk her way out of a speeding ticket, or out of paying the cover at a club, or to get the codes for a top-secret government facility. Christ, she could make me do anything.
    “Please?” Little did she know, if she asked me to cut off my right arm with a rusty saw, I would have done it for that smile and that little ‘please.’
    I could do this. It didn’t have to be a big deal.
    “Fine. But if your mom takes me out to the backyard and shoots me, it’s your fault.”
    “She doesn’t even know how to use a gun. It’s my dad you have to worry about when it comes to using firearms.”
    “Good to know,” I said as she pulled my violin out of the back and handed it to me.
     
    Katie
     
    Stryker stayed. Mom got herself together with the help of Dad, and everyone else warmed to him after he started interacting, and especially after he played a heartbreaking rendition of “Brown Eyed Girl”. Dad belted it out and danced her around the living room and she laughed as he dipped her. I rolled my brown eyes when I recognized the song, but Grampa Jack just laughed and joined Dad with his baritone voice.
    Kayla got me aside for a few minutes as Mom served everyone coffee and Grampa Jack told stories about the Vietnam War.
    “You like him, Katiebug. Admit it.”
    “Keep your voice down,” I said, glancing at the group in the living room. “It’s complicated. He’s just a distraction.”
    “Yeah, okay. You just keep telling yourself that.”
    Adam walked into the kitchen and Kayla wrapped her arms around