Sweet Water by Cara Reinard

Author:Cara Reinard [Reinard, Cara]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781542024938
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2021-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

1996—Freshman Year

We’re sitting in Martin’s Saab, top down, staring at the stars. He says the words effortlessly, like they’re already set in stone. “I’m going to be CEO of my own company someday. Here’s how I’m going to do it . . .” I don’t know how he can think so far ahead, but I can’t help but be turned on by his confidence. I’ve never met anyone with that kind of ambition, and I love to hear the passion escape his lips like a private time capsule made just for him and me—fragile and confidential.

“Once I get backers for the software . . .” He prattles on, and I half listen because I don’t understand computer lingo, but I love the way he sounds when he says it.

It’s not like he blurts these things out to the world. Just to me.

Five, ten, fifteen years—how long will it take my steady arrow to fly and fulfill his dreams?

“You’re hitting the world guns blazing, and I’m just trying to pass midterms,” I joke.

“Yeah, well . . . I need to buckle down and focus. What happened at the house . . . I can’t shake it.”

I can tell Martin’s been struggling with Tush’s death, and even though he hasn’t said a word about it directly, it’s managed to pop into every single one of our conversations. Martin might not have been at the house when Tush died, but he was still the one in charge of those boys when Tush drank three times the legal limit for blood alcohol level and never woke up the next day. I would feel guilty too.

“Tush would want you to keep on keeping on.” I squeeze his hand.

He nods. Tush was so hard-core about being a brother. He wouldn’t want the guys wallowing around, all sad. “I feel like I have a second chance now. I want to get it right.” He squeezes my hand back, and I know that when he says “get it right,” he’s thinking I’m part of the equation.

Martin + Sarah = getting it right.

I don’t know how he’s decided I’m the one to make him whole, but I’m not arguing with him over the fact. “You make me better,” he’s said on more than one occasion, and it’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, but sometimes it feels like he’s trying to convince himself too. It’s remarkable that Martin thinks so highly of me, that I bring him up a notch, this polished kid from the Heights.

It makes me wonder why he thinks he needs to be bettered.

“You will. You’ll get it all. But right now I need to study or I won’t get a damn thing right on my midterm tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry. I’m keeping you. Go.”

I kiss him.

“Go.” He practically pushes me out of his car, and I go this time.

I’m giggling up the walk, and the only thing that doesn’t seem right about Martin is that my father still doesn’t know anything about him.

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