by Nora Cobb
I look at Lucas and shrug my shoulders in disbelief. “What was that?”
“Good advice, and she’s right. We’ll talk later, after I talk to my dad. I need to talk to him anyway. Taylor’s acting weird.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“Arielle came by the house, but she won’t say why.”
I look at the closed door as if someone else will appear. “Do you think Troy did something to Cora?” I whisper.
“No, he would have advertised it.”
“What about Arielle?”
“No, she’d have her staff beat him. Arielle makes us all look soft.”
“Not you or Jacob.”
“The girl’s a high-speed wreck.”
“I guess we shouldn’t talk here, but we need to talk. Should I stop by your house?”
He twists his face into a frown, and his hazel eyes look distant. “No, I’ll go to you.”
“Thanks, Lucas.” He turns his face toward me and his expression reminds me of the way he used to look at me. “What is it?” I smile.
“You’re getting your backbone back. I’m glad to see old Natalie reappear.”
“It’s been rough, but you haven’t seen anything yet.”
I lean into him playfully. Lucas reaches out and brushes his finger along my chin. I tilt my chin and we kiss, but it feels different than the times before. When he kissed me in his car hidden in the woods, I felt passion, but no love. Now, I feel both. I pull away first and stare into his amazing eyes.
“That was nice,” I whisper. “Better than nice.”
Later, when we leave, he kisses my cheek on the library steps. I don’t care who sees us.
“I’ll see you later,” he says.
I watch him walk to the fieldhouse and I just stare into space before the last chime of the day wakes me out of my daydream. This is how I had hoped it would be.
***
I turn toward the parking deck and see Anthony walking toward it with a bloody nose. I wonder what’s been going on and wave. He sees me but keeps walking—a little faster. I have to run to catch up with him.
“Didn’t you hear me call you?” I ask as I grab the door before it shuts behind him.
“I don’t want to talk right now.” He hurries up the steps. “It started bleeding again.”
His nose drips blood as he throws a soaked napkin into the garbage. I reach into my leather bag and hand him some tissues from a packet. Anthony takes some and presses them against his nose, avoiding my eyes.
“Did Troy do this?” I ask. “Did he hit you again?”
Anthony looks at me as if I struck him. His accusing look makes my shoulders tense, and for a moment, I wish I had left him alone.
“No. It was Jacob.” He scowls with a temper. “He’s always after me. But you know that already.”
“Why? What? How would I know?”
“You know why, Nat. He doesn’t like me because I’m not good enough for you.”
I don’t know what to say. Uncle Phil’s voice plays in my head and I hear him calling Anthony a drug dealer again. Then I remember what Jacob confessed, that he thought I was dating a dealer the first day he met me. But most importantly, I hear Jacob warning me not to let Anthony drag me down.
“I’m sure he doesn’t think that.” It sounds lame as I say it, and he knows it. I don’t tell Anthony that he’s good enough or even that it isn’t true. And he notices that.
“I’m sorry.” I make myself look at him. “Look, I’ll talk to Jacob.”
“Don’t. You’ve done enough.” Anthony heads to his car and I feel relief as he walks away.
CHAPTER 7
Natalie
What Lucas said keeps my mind turning. I stare at my phone, and if willpower was enough, it would ring instantly. But it doesn’t. Is Lucas going to keep me in suspense? This is it. I have finally found a way to put Troy in check.
I hear voices at the front door and check the time. I run out into the hallway, but my steps slow when I see Jacob. I am glad to see him, but I was hoping for someone else.
“Good to see you, Jacob.” Uncle Phil thinks Jacob is the right one and has even encouraged me to apply to Notre Dame. I’m not sure except whenever I look at Jacob’s sexy, athletic build, and the tousled bangs that fall into his brown eyes I want to grab my tablet, fill out the application, and pay the late fee. Tampa is my safety school, not because it’s easy, but because I have an interest in marine biology, though I doubt it will be my career.
“Lost in thought, dream girl?”
Jacob leans in, giving me a peck on the lips. Uncle Phil smiles and makes himself scarce, patting Jacob on the back as he leaves the room. I have to admit that we do make a cute couple, but I can’t settle on one. We stay downstairs in the kitchen to study. That’s the new rule—homework first and playtime later.
“I saw Anthony after school ...” My eyes lift to Jacob’s face. His jaw twitches, but he is silent. “He looked pretty messed up.”
Jacob tosses down his pen. “Yeah, well, now the outside matches the inside.”
“Jacob,” I sigh. “I know you don’t like him, but you shouldn’t beat him up.”
He snaps. “I don’t get it, Nat. I get Lucas. He’s my friend, and if he were a girl I’d date him too. But Anthony?” Jacob twists his face into a frown like the thought smells bad.
“You shouldn’t beat him up. He has enough issues without being the human punching bag. Ignore him.”
“How can I when you want him too?” Jacob watches my reaction.
I’m not certain if I do anymore, and I don’t want to discuss it. Uncle Phil has made it clear who he prefers. But if I choose Jacob, everything will change.
“You can’t beat people up.” My fingers brush his hand. “I’m more concerned about you than him.”
“I feel the same. I’m concerned about you, Natalie. It’s not jealousy or some fucked up alpha-beating-the-beta shit. The guy is trouble. I don’t know why you defend him when he’s caused nothing but problems for you.”
His bluntness smarts, and I can’t answer him. We sit in silence as I stare blindly at my textbook. I’m not about to cry, because I don’t feel like it. I’m not going to argue, because I’m not angry. I feel nothing, just numb with awareness. I sit there in silence while Jacob taps numbers into his tablet. We’ve argued before, but this time feels different because we’re in a relationship.
“You want something else to drink?” I slowly rise up from the chair.
Jacob looks startled, as if he forgot I was in the room with him. Or maybe he was expecting more of a response. His eyebrows meet in a frown, but then his expression relaxes as he lets out a long sigh. He pushes his chair back from the table.
“Come here.” He opens his arms and leans back, waiting for me to sit on his lap.
“What are you doing?” I watch him suspiciously.
“You need a hug so you’ll stop sulking.”
“I’m not sulking,” I snap.
“There it is. The pushback.” He points to his lap, not taking no for an answer. “Make a horny jock happy. Sit in my lap.”
“Rude.” I sigh and walk over toward him like I’m being dragged against my will, but he knows I’m playing because I can’t stop the goofy smile on my face. I curl up in his lap, settling in as he wraps his arms underneath my legs like he’s going to carry me across the room and upstairs. He presses his lips against my neck, and I feel his breath against my hair. I tangle my fingers in his thick hair and kiss him hard on the mouth. Jacob pulls back until he’s staring into my eyes.
“What’s the matter, Nat?” He speaks softly. “I don’t want you to be unhappy. Tell me. I’ll make it better.”
I hug him close, his hard chest pressed against my breasts. I squirm a little on his lap, feeling his muscular thighs underneath me. My bottom presses against his hard-on, and I want to go upstairs.
He pulls back again. “You didn’t answer me.”
I swallow hard, and then I reveal how I
now feel. “You’re right about Anthony. Everyone is right about Anthony. But what I feel for him ... Maybe it’s not love. It’s a connection because he’s a reminder of what my life used to be. And many times, I miss that life.”
A tear slips down my cheek as I think about my mom and dad. Life was so simple back then. Before Montlake. Before all this drama.
Jacob’s face is furrowed with concern. He holds me, but I feel the passion cooling. And he averts his eyes, looking out the patio window at the last of the sunlight, disappearing behind the trees.
“Natalie,” he says, “I have good memories of being a kid, but it doesn’t mean I want to continue being one. Even if nothing had changed, you still wouldn’t be the same person you were last year. Do you know what I mean?”
I nod. It’s hard to hear, but it makes sense.
“Maybe all the shit you’re going through is because you’re holding too tight to that past. You’re not in West Lake anymore. You’re across the tracks. You have to accept your new life and move forward.”
“It’s hard. You have a code that I know nothing about.”
“We have a code, and you know more than you think. Troy didn’t back off because of me or Lucas. Well, maybe partially. But he also backed off because you met his dysfunctional family, and you kept your mouth shut. He didn’t even try to talk about it with us. Instinctively, you knew not to talk. You know how many times I’ve been in the house and wanted to run screaming into the streets? His mom is nuts.”
“What about his dad?”
“He’s a good guy,” Jacob says, “but he can be cold when he has to make a hard decision. You fuck up, and you pay.”
“Something else happened today,” I start slowly. “Cora spoke to me. She overheard Lucas and me in the library, and she warned me there’s gonna be more trouble with Troy.”
Jacob looks floored as he leans back in surprise. “That’s big. You’ve just moved across the board.”
“Excuse me?”
“Chess,” he explains. “If Cora’s watching your back, then you’re no longer a pawn. Give it time, Natalie, and you’ll be the queen.”
“It’s all so weird,” I sigh.
“This is your life now. You’re in the game and you have to play whether you’re ready or not; that’s how I get through it. Make the right moves, and Arielle will be avoiding you.”
“I don’t hide from her.”
Jacob opens his mouth but pauses before uttering a word. He lifts me off his lap, and I sit down in my chair. Jacob reaches out to take my hands in his.
“Natalie, I’m not saying things to hurt you. I’m sorry if I’m doing that. I really want the best for you. And it troubles me when I see something that’s all wrong.”
“Like Anthony.”
He lets go of my hand. “I’m not helping if I don’t tell you the truth. No matter how uncomfortable it is to say it or hear it.”
Jacob looks pained talking like this to me, but that’s why I trust him. He’s brave enough to say what he means. I lean forward, wrapping my arms around his neck, which wipes that concerned frown off his face. I kiss him hard, and he kisses me back, pulling me in.
“I know you’re looking out for me. And fancy you using an allegory.”
“I may suck at math, but I’m acing English.”
“All the brawn and brains too.” I kiss him again, longer. “Thanks for looking out for me while I figure things out.”
“If your uncle weren’t home, you’d be in trouble.”
“You know my code—homework first. Playtime later.”
CHAPTER 8
Lucas
Dad comes homes after his trip to the Caymans for business or pleasure. Who knows? I don’t care anymore, but Taylor does, though she pretends not to be concerned. She pretends it’s okay, but the recycling bin is filled with wine bottles from the day before. Wiley cleared out several empties but left a few. It would be obvious if there were none. I don’t envy his job of balancing on the tightrope between Mom’s addiction and Dad’s philandering. And I remind myself that each day is a day closer to graduation and college.
Breakfast in the sunroom is the three of us, and right now, I wish they had had another kid. Years ago, Arielle was a fill-in daughter, but that started to sour when Arielle became aware of the effect she has on men. One day, she actually tried flirting with Dad, batting her lashes, and tilting her head. We were all hanging out by the pool as she modeled her bikini for him. It was stupid—a kid trying to be grown up. Dad thought it was amusing. I didn’t really care as long as I could swim. But Taylor wanted to wring Arielle’s scrawny teenage neck.
“Sir, I have a question.” It’s time to pump him for information.
“What is it?” he replies, placing his Bluetooth on the table. Though Taylor prefers to be called by her first name, my dad doesn’t. My father, Dale Bellman, is twenty years older than my mother, and we are his second family. We are young compared to his fifty years. I have been taught to say sir, not Dad, and never Daddy. I’m surprised he doesn’t ask to be addressed as Mr. Bellman, but that may still happen when I start working for the family firm.
“I have some money I’d like to invest,” I reply, “and I have a question or two about stocks.”
Dad is pleased to hear this. He pushes his phone aside and starts speaking at length about stocks, neglecting to let me ask my question. At some point, I will go into the family business, and it could happen before college graduation if I choose to. I have been accepted to Columbia and plan to major in business, of course. My career path is to follow in my father’s footsteps. Fortunately, I find what he is saying interesting, but Taylor rolls her eyes too many times to count.
“Do all shares carry the same weight?” I am finally able to ask.
“What do you mean?”
“If I own shares in a company, does that mean I have a vote in the company?”
“Not in all circumstances. And you need to be careful when you make your investments—especially if you’re looking at private equity.” Dad continues to explain the difference between voting and non-voting shares. Gradually, I notice that Taylor has stopped eating her fruit salad and is listening intently to our conversation. It shouldn’t alarm me. After all, it’s all of our money, and we should all have an interest in it, but I don’t feel at ease. I wish she would get up and leave the table, but she doesn’t. Taylor sits there, frowning as if something is working her mind.
“I’m proud of you, Lucas. You’re showing initiative, and I was hoping you would.” Dad stretches his legs, stands from the table, and pats me on the shoulder. “I was starting to get concerned, but I see you’re ready to take on new responsibilities.”
Whoa. If he knew I was asking for a girl, he’d be disappointed. I smile. “Thanks, sir. I enjoy these talks.”
That sounds stiff, and Taylor lifts an eyebrow, but my father nods as he leaves the room. My thanks were wooden, like him. My dad’s not bad; he’s just from another generation where certain behaviors were accepted without a second thought, like having a mistress. Today, that behavior tests the moral compass. Sighing, I avert my gaze and get ready to leave the table.
“Lucas,” Taylor says. “A moment, dear, before you run off. I want to talk to you alone.”
I can’t even guess what this will be about. I never snitch about the bottles, but I’m growing concerned. Taylor’s skin looks duller, and she’s put on a few pounds around the middle. For a woman as vain as her, that’s waving a red flag. But it could be something else. I never got a straight answer about why Arielle came to the house.
I sit back down. “What’s up, Taylor?”
Usually, when Dad leaves the room, the tension drops, but the hairs on the back of my neck are raised. Taylor and I usually relax and enjoy being together, but today it isn’t happening. A serious expression is on her face.
“The girl who showed up a few months ago. The one you left the house with and drove to the edge of the property. Are you still seeing her?”
I nod. “I’m seeing her again.”
“You stopped?” She’s surprised.
“We had a misunderstanding.” I take a sip of lukewarm coffee and say nothing else.
“And these questions you were asking your father,” she continues. “They weren’t for you, were they?”
“She asked for some advice,” I reply, avoiding her steady gaze.