His shoulders bounced again with a silent chuckle, and the sight of his relaxed attitude over my question succeeded in calming my nerves. “If you had seen the picture, you’d know the answer. It’s my sister.”

“Let me guess. Her name is Rose.”

Axel released a rumbling laugh. “No, even my mom thought that would sound ridiculous. Her name is Tracii.” He twisted his upper body and faced me. “Since you have zero knowledge about good music, I’ll explain. My parents caught some of their early performances before they hit it big. That’s how my mom fell in love with them. Guns N’ Roses was actually formed by Axl Rose and Tracii Guns…hence the name. But Tracii left the band very early on, and was replaced with Slash. I don’t think my mom really followed Tracii, but she thought it would be cool to name us after the band, regardless of who the guitarist was.”

“Your mom sounds like a clever individual. But why would she name your sister after the member that left? Doesn’t that kind of seem like a bad omen or something?”

He continued to watch me as we talked. “You know, I asked her the same thing once. She told me that it’s always important to know where you start. Where your beginning was. She thought it was symbolic. And just like the original Tracii and Axl, who both went their own ways, she wanted us to be individuals. She wanted us to know where we came from, but not be afraid to grow into our own.”

“Is Tracii younger than you?”

He turned back around to keep working as he explained. “We’re actually twins. She’s seven minutes older than me. We look alike, except she colors her hair, so hers is considerably lighter than mine. But we have the same eyes, same nose, same facial expressions…well, my smile is better. We both had braces when we were younger. I wore my retainer like I was supposed to and she didn’t. But our personalities couldn’t be more different. She’s stubborn and hardheaded, argumentative and abrasive at times. Heart the size of Texas, but damn, don’t ever find yourself on her bad side.”

“I’ll remember that when I meet her,” I said sarcastically, lost in the sound of his voice while I fidgeted with the grass. The grin on my face fell when I glanced up, wondering why he’d gone silent. I found him sitting on his bottom, turned around to face me with a serious expression on his face. I couldn’t read the lines in his forehead or understand the concentrated look in his eyes. “What? What did I say?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head, the stiffness in his shoulders relaxing some. “Would you like to meet my sister?”

“What? No. Why would I want to do that?”

“Well, you mentioned something about meeting her.”

“I was being facetious. You told me not to get on her bad side, so I mockingly replied I’d keep that in mind. Why would I want to meet your sister?” Out of all the possible scenarios that ran through my mind of his reaction to my question, not one of them came close to this.

“I don’t know. I’ve never had a female friend before. If you were a guy, I’m sure there would be a time when you’d meet my family. We’re really close. Wait…no. If you were a guy, there’d be no way in hell I’d let you meet my sister. Apparently, the bro code is mythical, because all my friends growing up never thought twice before hitting on her.”

“What about your friend Danny? Did he hit on her, too?”

“Not back then. He never thought he deserved her. His self-esteem was really low, no thanks to his asshole of a father. But they were friends. Now they’re married and expecting their first child this summer.” He spoke while working, apparently comfortable discussing things again.

“That didn’t piss you off?”

“Hell no. He’s a great guy, the best. And she’s exactly what he needed. They’re perfect for each other. Couldn’t be happier.” He stopped again to look back at me over his shoulder before continuing. “I really think you’d like them. You remind me a lot of my sister, only not as bitchy.”

“You’re confusing me again, Axel. Do you want me to meet your sister—your family—or not? Because I kind of need to know what’s going on before more questions fill my head.”

“I don’t know, Bree. I didn’t say I want to take you to my family dinner, just that I think you’d get along with her. And what questions do you mean?” He seemed to be rapidly growing irritated, and that’s not at all what I wanted to happen.

I became embarrassed for some reason, and had to take a moment to sort through my thoughts. His attitude sort of came out of nowhere, taking me by surprise, as if the wind had been knocked out of me. “Well, for starters, you said a lot of stuff today that kinda has my head spinning. Like when you told me how you look forward to my calls, and seeing me in the mornings is the highlight of your day.” My heart rate sped up the more I chattered on. Nervous didn’t even begin to describe how I felt opening this can of worms. This conversation could go very bad, very quickly. But I’d already opened my mouth, so I couldn’t stop now. “Your words were that if I ever came by, you’d never turn me away. You’d invite me in. Now you’re talking about how I’d get along with your family. What does that mean?”

He dropped his head into his hands, getting dirt on his face but not seeming to care one bit. His elbows rested on his bent knees as he worked his fingers through hair before fisting it and letting out a frustrated grunt. “I can’t explain it, Bree. You claim it has your head spinning. Why don’t you tell me what you think I mean by it?”

“That’s not fair. I’m not the one who said those things to begin with. How am I supposed to know what you meant by it? I mean, you say that it’s a bad idea for me to be here, yet here I am. And I’m only here because you insisted that I stay. After telling me I have no business being at your house. Talk about mixed signals.”

His arms fell away as he turned his face toward the sky. I’d seen many sides of Axel Taylor over the almost four weeks I’d known him. I’d witnessed many different emotions from him over the last two and a half weeks since we’d started communicating regularly. But the version of him in front of me was something new. Instead of strength and confidence, I saw weakness and doubt. Instead of anger or control, he seemed lost and powerless. Instead of the man I’d grown accustomed to, a little boy sat in his place, and it made me want to go to him, hold him, and comfort him the same way he’d done for me so many times before. But before I could move toward him, he dropped his head and locked eyes with mine, silently begging me to respond. It was as if he feared his own words, and needed me to fill the silence.

So I did. “Axel, you’re the one that drew the lines of this friendship in the sand. You reiterated how important it was that I didn’t develop feelings for you. It’s unethical and wrong…remember? You said that. You didn’t want me thinking too much into things, because it would make everything complicated and confusing. I’ve done my part. I haven’t blurred or crossed any lines. I’ve never overstepped the boundaries of this friendship. So yeah, this has my head spinning because I don’t know where it came from. I have no idea what happened or when. So I’m asking you to clarify it for me.”

“I can’t,” he choked out, his voice nearly giving in under the strain of his abundant emotions. “You’re right. I said all those things to you. And you’ve done everything I’ve asked. You’ve followed all the rules. I’m the one that failed you. I’m the one that underestimated everything.”

“What does that mean?” I shouted, at the end of my metaphorical rope.

“I can’t explain it!” His voice rose to meet mine as his fisted hands punched into the grass beside him. “I can’t tell you, Bree. Read between the damn lines. You shouldn’t be here, but I can’t stand the thought of you leaving. There’s not a single reason why we should spend an hour on the phone each night together, but I can’t imagine going to bed without hearing your voice. It doesn’t matter that we’ve remained platonic, or that we’ve set ground rules and have stuck by them, because no matter how you look at it, what we’re doing is still unethical. I’m your teacher. You’re my student. Our interaction should begin and end with the bell. No matter how you spin it, this is wrong. And it’s eating me alive.