All I Ever Wanted

Chapter 31

The door slowly opened to reveal a man with the same green eyes, hair color, and skin color as Tanner had. His face was different, still handsome, but different than Tanner's. "Hello," the man greeted us. He looked several years older than us. For a second, I believed he was his father. However, that couldn't be true - I remembered that Tanner's father had died several years back after plummeting off the side of a mountain he'd been driving on. Tanner had been so glum afterward - he wouldn't even talk for weeks. The man's face was red, and his face was stained by the lines of tears. His eyes were puffy and filled with sadness. The sight made me want to give him a big hug and apologize for such a tragedy happening.

"Hi." I gave a small, awkward wave. It was hard to look into those same exact eyes that Tanner had. They looked so alike, it killed me. I had to stare down at my shoes. Clayton must've noticed the resemblance, too, and saw how much it hurt me. He reached over and grabbed my hand. Clayton gently squeezed my hand, making me feel a little better. I looked back up to avoid seeming rude.

"How can I help you?" The man said. "I'm Eric, by the way. I am, or... was, Tanner's older brother." He swallowed at the word, "was".

"We are very apologetic for your loss, Eric. He was such a great guy," Clayton looked him straight in the eyes. "I just can't believe he would do such a thing." Eric nodded solemnly, blinking back tears. It was strange, seeing this man on the verge of tears. He seemed so masculine - so mature.

"That's exactly what we are here for," I explained. Eric's eyes widened when a woman's voice called his name.

"Hold on, mom!" He called in. Eric nodded at us and he stepped out of the door, closing it behind him. "What -" he lowered his voice. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I think he didn't..." I trailed off, but I knew Eric understood what I was refusing to say.

"Then what? What do you think he did?" He spoke quickly, like he was hurrying to get this over with. Eric had actually been slightly shaking nervously since the moment his mother called for him, like he was scared of her or something.

"I don't know. I wanted to ask if you - or your family - knew about anything."

"Eric! Get in here right this minute! I will not wait another second!" His mother screamed from inside the house. Her voice was rich in hatred and fury.

"Look," he kept his voice very low. "I have to go now. I'm sorry. I'll -"

"Eric!" She hollered at the top of her lungs, her voice piercing my ears.

"I gotta go," he blurted, and sprinted into the house.

I gave Clayte a worried look as we headed for the car.

---

"Why do you think he was so worried?" I asked, picking at the grass surrounding me. Clayte and I had decided to stop at a nearby park to talk and ponder possible reasons for Tanner's death.

"I don't know," Clayte replied. He bit his lip, which was very attractive to me. I sighed dreamily, then realized what I had done and pretended to cough crazily in order to cover it up. "He was probably afraid to be grounded, I'd say." Phew! He didn't notice my sigh.

"I-I don't know, Clayte. I got a bad vibe back there. His -" Clayte looked at me, about to laugh. "What, Clayte?"

"What are you, a psychic?" He burst into a fit of laughter, thinking he was hilarious. I punched his shoulder, shaking my head irritably.

"Maybe I should've just called Haley to help me figure this out instead."

"Awe, don't be mad!"

A few kids were tossing a football back and forth. I tried to warn Clayte about the ball spiralling towards him by shoving him, but he didn't budge. I uncontrollably laughed for the next minute. The ball had hit him square in the forehead. Clayte was cracking up as well, rubbing his head every few seconds. I told him I'd tried to warn him, and he just laughed. "Whatever, Ms. Know-it-all!"

"Sorry, dude!" A boy who looked about 12 called over. He continued to toss and catch the ball with his three friends.

"It's okay, buddy. Would you mind if I played with you guys?" Clayte slowly rose to his feet. I tugged on his sleeve, shaking my head. I didn't want to have to watch a bunch of kids play catch with Clayte. It would bore me to death. He just stuck his tongue out me childishly as the kids agreed to let him join the game. I groaned and turned around to watch them.

"Do you know how to play?" A short, obese boy asked him. Clayte chuckled.

"Do I?" Clayte asked, looking around. "Here, hand me that ball." He pointed to one of the three footballs they'd had. The chubby kid tossed it to him. Clayte looked back at me with a wink, receiving a roll of my eyes. He drew back his arm, saying, "See that dead tree?" He pointed at a tree about a hundred yards away. The four kids said they did. Clayte sent the ball soaring through the air, and it flew, yard by yard, before hitting the tree right in the middle of it. The kids all cheered, clapping and shouting excitedly.

"Show off!" I yelled loudly. The boys all turned my way, laughing and grinning goofily.

"Dude, she's hot!" A boy with dark hair and eyes whispered to the boy who had hit Clayte with the ball. The boy who had been whispered to nodded slowly, examining me from top to bottom. My jaw dropped.

"Excuse me?" I had my eyebrows raised. Clayte looked at the kid angrily. He was only around twelve years old, but I took the statement offensively. The kid wiggled his eyebrows at me. I clenched my jaw in disgust and anger.

"Have some respect, dude." Clayte said flatly. The two kids stared at me as we left the park. I felt violated and disgusted. "Kids these days," Clayte muttered under his breath as he started the car.

I did discover something out of the event, though. Clayte always looked me in the eyes - he didn't eye me as those creeps did at the park. He didn't ever examine me or comment on my looks disrespectfully, or call me "hot". Instead, he admired me for who I was - not how I looked.