The Forgotten Ones

every one of my defenses. But, I didn’t have space in my life for that. I had a plan—to focus on taking care of my mom. My grandparents had done it by themselves for long enough. I needed to find a way to help, to unburden them. That was my priority. But Ethan…he was so hard to resist sometimes.
    Just as I began to get lost in thought, a quick movement caught my eye as Jeff snuck up behind Nicole. He held his finger to his lips and planted a kiss on Nicole’s cheek.
    She jumped and instinctively smacked him, but a smile overtook her face when she realized who it was.
    “Hey, babe.” Jeff took the seat next to her and looked over at me. “Hey, Al.”
    The chair next to mine scraped the patio, and it was my turn to jump. Ethan dropped into the seat and grinned at me, his dimples out in full force. I tried to concentrate on my sundae.
    “Hey,” he said, nodding at me. A brown curl slipped down his forehead, adding to his annoying charm.
    “Hi,” I muttered before shoving a glob of half-melted ice cream in my mouth to avoid conversation. Must. Not. Fall. I reminded myself.
    Ethan was tall, olive-skinned with dark, messy curls. Easily the best-looking guy in Stoneville. And also the biggest player in town. He knew the effect he had on girls, and he used it to his advantage.
    “So, we’re all set for the beach tomorrow,” Nicole told them. She sounded a little too smug, and I rolled my eyes.
    “Something in your eye, Allison?” Ethan asked, seemingly amused at my attempt at indifference.
    I clenched my jaw and almost rolled my eyes again. “That must be it, Ethan.”
    “Oh, come on. I know how bad you want to see me with my shirt off.”
    I knew it didn’t warrant a response, but I could never keep my mouth shut when Ethan provoked me. And he knew it.
    “The entire female population of this town has seen you without a shirt on. Not that exciting.”
    A slow smile spread across his face—he saw through me. I really needed to work on my sarcasm.
    He turned back to Nicole and Jeff, who were debating whether to head northeast to Hampton Beach or southeast to Horseneck Beach the next day. Not a debate I had any interest in. Though, maybe it could be okay…it was a day off after all.
    Nicole’s petite nose scrunched up. “Hampton is full of screaming kids. Horseneck is better.”
    “What do you think, Ethan?” Jeff asked his brother.
    Ethan stretched, raising his arms over his head so that his sleeves fell and showed off his toned biceps. His eyes darted to me before answering. “The girls wear skimpier bikinis at Hampton.”
    A gagging sound escaped my mouth before I could stop it.
    Ethan grinned, obviously delighted to get another rise out of me. “But I’ll go wherever Al wants to go. I don’t want her to have any reasons to bail on us.”
    He would twist anything I said, so this time I managed to stay quiet. Nicole met my eyes and I nodded.
    “Horseneck it is.”

    Nicole left with Ethan and Jeff a little while later, all three of them excited about the band playing tonight at The Bean Counter. Ethan had made an impressive effort to convince me to come along, but going to the packed coffee house sounded horrible to me. Thank goodness I had my own car and could use needing to go get us food for the beach as an opt out.
    “I’ll be over at seven-thirty a.m. sharp!” Nicole hollered from Jeff’s jeep as he pulled away.
    Right. Sure, she would.

    I chuckled as I drove home from the grocery store, remembering Nicole’s claim that she’d be ready early. All of our lives I’d had to drag her out the door, kicking and screaming, just to get her to school on time.
    I pulled into the driveway, grabbed the bags, and headed up the stairs of the front porch. Twigs snapping in the woods broke through the quiet night. As I looked around to see what might have made the noise, a shiver ran down my spine. The yard was dark, and the porch light didn’t reach more than five feet off the steps.
    I shook my head, irritated by my paranoia and walked through the front door.
    Gram sat on the couch with a crossword book on her lap, and my mother was watching a game show on TV. Pop was slouched in his chair, eyes closed under the half-moon glasses that had slid down low on his nose.
    I smiled at them as I quietly set my keys on the sideboard.
    At that moment, it wasn’t hard to believe that my mother was the happy, carefree girl everyone claimed she was before I was born. The glow from the lamp brightened her