Let It Be Me by Becky Wade (top young adult novels .TXT) 📕

beast. A tough-guy’s truck. He parked, walked up to the vehicle, and found it empty. Bracing himself, he pushed his hands into his jeans and waited beneath the cold gray sky.

As expected, Luke Dempsey exited the station’s door. When he saw Sebastian, his expression tightened. Luke came to a halt, facing Sebastian across two yards of space and two miles of memories.

A powerful sense of déjà vu jerked Sebastian back in time to the earthquake. It had been dim then, too.

The collapsing corridors in that basement hadn’t stopped Luke from trying to run back in the direction they’d come.

Sebastian had lunged forward and grabbed his arm.

“Let me go!” Luke yelled at him. “I have to get my brother.”

“You’ll be crushed.” Luke was one year older, but Sebastian was equally as tall and strong.

Luke wrenched free. But just as he tried to enter the hallway, concrete filled it, blocking it completely.

“No!” Luke had screamed.

All these years later, Luke wore a black motorcycle jacket over a black hoodie and battered jeans. His brown hair was longer than Sebastian had ever seen it—as if he’d had a short haircut nine months ago and hadn’t bothered to trim it since. His five-o’clock shadow was so thick, it had turned into a short beard.

He looked like what he’d become: a man you wouldn’t want to cross. Dangerous.

Even so, Sebastian could see the boy he’d been in the long, aristocratic nose. The sharp, deep-set hazel eyes. The inflexible chin.

They were the same height, though Luke was leaner.

The summer they’d gone on that doomed mission trip, Luke had been the most well-liked, athletic kid in the eighth grade. He’d had every advantage Sebastian had not. A family, a home, upper middle-class money.

Luke’s life had been heading in an upward direction, and Sebastian’s life had been headed down. By the time they left that wrecked building after eight days buried alive together, their trains had jumped tracks. Sebastian’s track had gone up. Luke’s had gone down.

Luke should’ve been a doctor. Sebastian should’ve been a felon.

He couldn’t call Luke a friend, and yet he was more bonded to this man than he was to any of his colleagues or acquaintances.

“How long have you been back?” Sebastian asked.

“A day.”

“Why’d you return?”

“None of your business.”

“I’d like to know.”

Luke regarded Sebastian with impatience. “I have a job lined up in January.”

“What job?”

“A job with an animal rescue charity.”

An animal charity? Sebastian had expected him to say he was going to be working on restoring cars, something he’d been good at once. “Ben, Natasha, Genevieve, and I are meeting for dinner tonight. We’d like for you to join us.”

“No thanks.” He moved to pass.

Sebastian stepped in front of him. “It’s just dinner.” He knew how much it would mean to Natasha and Genevieve, in particular, if Luke would show.

“No.” Luke climbed into his truck and drove off without another word.

After their rescue, when the four of them had repeatedly tried to include him in the things they were doing—traveling to speak to churches, interviews with the media, conversations with the writers who’d handled the book and the screenplay—Luke had refused involvement. Ever since, he’d been stubborn and uncommunicative.

Luke was a pain. And yet there was no way of getting around one fact. Sebastian owed Luke for saving his life.

I’m so bummed that Luke’s not willing to get together with us,” Genevieve said that evening.

Sebastian, Ben, Natasha, and Genevieve were sitting around the table at Natasha’s house, open containers of Thai food standing between their plates. Pad Thai noodles. Rice. Curry shrimp. Beef and basil.

Sebastian had just finished telling them about his interaction with Luke.

“It’s like he’s determined not to acknowledge that we’re awesome,” Ben said.

“When we clearly are,” Genevieve said, “very awesome.”

“‘True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.’” Natasha winked. “C. S. Lewis quote. It seemed apropos.”

“He hasn’t been open to getting together with us or acknowledging how awesome we are for almost two decades,” Sebastian pointed out. “I think it’s time we accept that’s not going to change.”

Natasha’s fork stopped swirling noodles. “I can’t.”

“Me neither,” Genevieve said. “There’s something within me that simply won’t give up hope of reconnecting with him. He was down there with us. He survived it with us. Only we know what he endured. The fact that he hasn’t been a part of our group since then has been a sore spot in my heart all this time.”

“He told you he was going to work at an animal rescue charity?” Natasha asked Sebastian.

“Right.”

“That seems like a bizarre choice,” Ben said.

“He probably didn’t have many options.” Natasha gave up on the noodles. “Employers aren’t exactly lining up to hire parolees.”

“The only animal rescue charity in town that I know of is Furry Tails,” Ben said.

“Oh!” Genevieve brightened. “Furry Tails is owned by Finley Sutherland. She’s great. She comes out to the farm stand to buy fruit and vegetables almost every weekend. Do any of you know her?”

“I think I’ve met her,” Ben said. “Does she have dark hair?”

“Yes, she looks like a modern-day Snow White. Long black hair. Blue eyes. I love how she dresses . . . very boho chic. She’s definitely a champion of lost causes.”

Sebastian snorted. “Then she’s Luke’s perfect employer.” He checked his watch. He was due at Leah’s soon to watch a movie, and he planned to arrive early.

“Wyatt keeps trying to talk me into visiting Furry Tails and adopting a dog,” Natasha said. “I’ve resisted because if I go, I’ll probably bring home several aging animals. No thank you. My hands are full. I have children.”

“Doesn’t Furry Tails specialize in pug rescue?” Ben asked.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Natasha said.

“Aww,” Genevieve said. “How come you haven’t adopted a pug, Ben? You’d be a great dog owner.”

“You want me to adopt an aging animal?”

“Yes,” the sisters said in unison.

“I wouldn’t want to leave a dog at home all day while I’m working.”

“If it’s aging,” Sebastian pointed out, “it might not mind.”

Genevieve laughed. “Well, in order to see and