I forced my smile to remain. “That’s so sweet of you, Brandon. But I’ll be fine, really.”
“Well, offer’s on the table if you need my help.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. Time for a quick change of subject. “Hey, how was your day?”
Brandon leaned back, but his gaze remained on me. “Funny you should ask. I was just at your school.”
My heart dropped a beat. “Oh?”
“Yeah, you know, Dee, I gotta say, I’m not a fan of that place. Don’t know why your dad wanted to put you in there so badly. It’s kinda… Well, it’s pretty much filled with spoiled rich brats. And all the shit that’s happened there, man…” Brandon shook his head.
I nodded along.
“Aren’t you gonna ask me why I was there?”
“Why were you there?” I replied obediently.
He side-eyed me in what he probably thought was a mysterious detective way. “Two years ago, someone was operating a drug ring there.”
Ice prickled down my back. This was a dangerous topic, one I really needed to stay far away from.
“It was all a huge clusterfuck. You know what Mendez is like. She couldn’t leave well enough alone. Had to dig deeper and deeper.”
He didn’t know. He had no idea. I wanted to tell him I knew all this already. People at school still talked about the infamous drug-fueled case from time to time. Hell, it shook even the school staff. Lisa herself told me about it one quiet afternoon, her voice hushed and her eyes wide, always checking to make sure we were alone. Lisa never gossiped, so that afternoon was a one-time event. I bet I knew more details than Brandon did about the drug ring. But of course I couldn’t interrupt Brandon, Mr. Important Policeman.
Mom came by with his drink before going back to the kitchen.
Brandon swilled his glass for a while, his thumb scraping the rim. He was wearing this faraway look. “Of course, in the end, nothing happened. The place is untouchable. The trail had gone dry, anyway. Whoever was running the drug business closed up shop.”
I made an aww, that really sucks face.
“But now we got word someone’s started selling again.” He pointed a large, stubby finger and glared at me. “Have you and your friends been buying, Dee?”
He might as well have picked up our solid oak coffee table and smashed me in the head with it. “I don’t—I really—”
Brandon threw his head back and guffawed. “I’m messing around, Dee. That look on your face! You are the biggest fuckin’ nerd I’ve come across. ‘Ooh, I’m Asian, I can’t do anything fun! Must study hard!’” He raised his hands and leaned back a little. “Uh-oh, call the PC police! I made a race joke!”
Somehow, I managed to force a smile onto my face. “Ha ha,” I bit out.
He winked at me. “I’m messing with you. I don’t really believe that. You’re a great kid, Dee.”
“Thanks, Brandon.” Sometimes, I imagined Brandon dead. Maybe he slips while going down the stairs and breaks his neck. Maybe he gets caught in a gunfight and a bullet rips through his skull. Maybe—
Brandon grinned and took a sip of his whiskey sour. He made a face and called out to Mom. “Hey, babe, can you bring me some ice cubes?”
“Okay, sweet stuff,” Mom chirped.
That was my cue to leave. I was halfway to the bottom of the staircase when I heard Mom whisper, “Shit.”
I paused. Pre-Brandon, my reaction to my mom swearing would have been laughter, followed by me giving her a hard time. But there was actual terror in Mom’s voice, and it was contagious. I crept back to the kitchen and raised my eyebrows at her.
She tipped the ice box toward me and gestured at it. Empty.
“I’ll go to the store and buy some,” I whispered.
Mom blinked rapidly, her eyes shining with tears. “I—I’d have to ask him for money,” she said.
My chest tightened. How wrong, how fucking awful it was that my mom was reduced to this. How could she have let him bully her into letting him take over the finances? And now here we were, panicking because we’d have to ask Brandon to give us a few of Mom’s hard-earned dollars so we could get him ice for his goddamn whiskey.
“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll pay for it. It’s why I got the library job.” And why I was working so hard at it, squirreling money away.
Mom smiled gratefully, then her smile froze when Brandon called out, “Any luck on that ice?” Already there was a dangerous tone to his voice.
Mom took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face, even though Brandon wasn’t in the kitchen to see it in its full terrified glory. “We’re out of ice cubes, sweetie. Dee’s just about to go to the store and grab a bag.” She ushered me out of the kitchen.
“Out of ice?” Brandon’s voice had gone silky soft. He hefted himself off the couch, and suddenly, there he was, a mountain of muscle and sudden, swift punishment.
My bones turned to water. The urge to curl up in a tight corner with my head in my hands almost overcame me.
“Who was the last to use the ice?” he said, still in that velvety voice.
Mom was opening and shutting her mouth, but no words came out. And then I recalled she’d poured a whole bunch of ice cubes into a water bottle last night and then pressed it to her back, where he’d—
“It was me.”
It took a moment to realize I’d spoken. They were both staring at me. Shit, shit, shit.
“No, Brandon—” Mom started.
“Shh,” Brandon whispered, putting a finger to his lips. He turned toward me, and when Brandon turned to face you, he did so with his entire body, and it felt like seeing a large bull that had been happily munching grass but now realized you were there and you were wearing red.
Time held its breath. The only sound in the room was the roar of my blood rushing through my ears. I should run right now. I shouldn’t even take the time to grab anything on the way out, just run until there was no more air in my lungs. But I was a useless, watery thing, and so I stood there, trembling, as he advanced upon me.
“Brandon—” Mom pleaded, but like me, she was broken too. She wouldn’t actually do anything.
“Funny story, Dee,” Brandon said, in a conversational tone, his voice still soft, soft as snowfall. “You know what they call it when an officer kills someone by accident?”
“Please let me get the ice now, I’ll be quick,” I squeaked.
“Don’t worry about the ice. Answer my question.”
I scrambled through the mess that was my mind. “Um…I don’t know…um, a misdemeanor?”
“Paid vacation.” Brandon broke into a face-splitting grin. “Hey, why do you look so scared, Dee? I’m just playing around.” He smacked my shoulder and roared his laughter at Mom. “Look at her! Shaking like a leaf!”
“Why don’t you go get the ice now, darling?” Mom said to me, her cheeks trembling with the effort of keeping the manic smile on her face.
I slunk away quickly, Brandon’s laughter echoing through my head.
Chapter Four
Logan
Things that had irked me for the last two years—like listening to the guys sing dirty versions of our school anthem, or wrestling in the corridors on the way to class, or pranking each other in the showers—things I’d given up for so long, became enjoyable once again.
Even Josh noticed the difference. One evening, as we walked back to the dorms from the dining hall, he punched me on the shoulder and said, “It’s really great to have you back, man.” I could’ve sworn there were actual tears in his eyes. Jesus, the guy was so hopelessly loyal. I couldn’t even give him a hard time about it, because I had tears in my goddamn eyes. I punched him back, and it felt so good to horse around again.
Three weeks after I laid eyes on the love of my life, I finally got the chance to talk to her.
After dinnertime, before l
ights-out, the boarders had free roam of the grounds. Draycott was known for its rolling grounds—endless carpets of lush green connecting the buildings with paths curling along the borders like graceful calligraphy. Most kids took full advantage of their surroundings and sprawled across the grass to hang out. The more adventurous, or those looking for quiet nooks to hook up, go farther from the main grounds and sneak under the dark trees, past the tangle of branches and thorny blackberry bushes and down to the river. The less outgoing went back to their rooms, the ambitious curled up at the library, and I, well, I checked out of Draycott and drove down to the animal shelter.
Volunteering at the local shelter was Ms. Taylor’s idea. She’d given me a lengthy talk about the amazing healing powers of animals, yada yada, and I’d agreed just so she’d stop. And it wasn’t bad at all. I’d expected to be put to work scrubbing out kennels, but as it turned out, I was given the task of taking the bigger dogs out on walks. They didn’t usually let anyone under eighteen take the animals for walks, but Ms. Taylor gave them a call, telling them how much it would help me, and since there were only a couple months left before my eighteenth birthday, the local shelter relented. I liked dogs, especially big ones. I liked how they were always panting, like they couldn’t have enough of life and they had to gulp down every moment of it.
One of the dogs I was often assigned to walk was a monstrously huge and hopelessly friendly Lab mix called Daddy. Daddy was a really sweet, hyper dog who thought he was the size of a Chihuahua, so when I asked if I could take him out on extra-long walks, the shelter employees went, “God, yes, please tire him out.” It took me and Daddy less than fifteen minutes to run the two miles from the shelter to Delilah’s street. I could go faster, but Daddy was a bit overweight, and by the time we were done with the two miles, he was panting hard. Once we made the turn to her street, I tugged on Daddy’s leash and slowed our pace to a brisk walk.
I headed for number 1876. It was dark enough now for the streetlights to come on and the windows of the houses to glow soft orange. I bit my lip, savoring the way my heart rate increased slightly once I turned onto Delilah’s street. I loved the anticipation, knowing she was there at the end of my journey. My prize, my perfect goddess, displayed through her window for me.
Delilah’s house was on the corner. Lucky me. It meant I could observe her from two different angles, and I didn’t squander that piece of good luck. Over the past couple of weeks, I’d walked up and down the two streets, looking for the perfect position, one that would give me the best view. And my luck had held; no one had found the little camera I’d installed in a tree across the street from her house.
I can’t be here for you 24/7, Delilah, but I need you to know that I’m always with you. Always.
I checked to make sure no one was around before reaching up to the second branch of the tree, where the camera was tucked nice and tight. Daddy chose that moment to give a particularly ruthless yank on the leash. The momentum launched me forward and I pitched face-first onto the sidewalk. The breath was knocked out of my lungs, sort of like when I first saw Delilah, except a lot less pleasant. Somehow, I still had the presence of mind to keep a firm hold on the leash so Daddy’s plans of a great escape were immediately dashed. The things I go through for Del—
“Are you okay?” a voice said. A voice I’d recognize even in my dreams.
Shit. Panic stabbed through my rib cage. Shit, shit, shit. Delilah. Had she seen me stretching my arm up into the branches? Was she wondering what the hell I was doing here? She was going to freak the fuck out—nobody understands romance—and Ms. Taylor would hear about this, and I’d be suspended again, except this time it would be worse, it would be so much worse—
Calm. Down.
She wasn’t looking at me the way people sometimes did, like they thought I was going to do something totally off-the-wall. But I still had my fail-safe—Daddy. He automatically cleansed me of all suspicion.
I hoped.
I stood up and brushed myself off, taking a few moments to make sure my breathing was settled and my voice wasn’t going to come out high with nervousness. But when I did look up, I realized I was hopeless. God, she was beautiful. I caught myself and forced out a casual, “Hey.” Then, before my brain could catch up, I said, “Oh, hey, Delilah, right?”
She glanced up at me, recognition dawning on her features now that she could see my face.
“You’re in my chemistry class,” I mumbled.
“Yeah, I know who you are.” She didn’t quite meet my eye as she said it, which was typical Delilah. Instead, her eyes hovered somewhere around my chin.
I’d dreamed of so many ways for us to meet. Me falling on my face was not one of them. And now her eyes were focusing somewhere over my shoulder like she couldn’t wait to go. I struggled to say something that would put her at ease. I knew so much about her, but none of that information was usable. I couldn’t possibly say, “That Hainanese chicken rice dish you posted on Instagram two years ago and tagged as your all-time favorite food? I tried making it because I wanted to know how it felt eating something you loved. And it’s really good. You’ve got great taste. I can’t wait to try all those other Singaporean dishes you posted about.” Yeah, not so much
“So, um, do you live around here?” Argh.
Delilah nodded, still not meeting my eye. “Yeah, that’s my house right there. Do you live around here too?”
“No, I’m actually from out of state. I board at Draycott.”
Delilah’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t know they let you have pets at the dorms.”
Thank god for Daddy. Look at him, sniffing his own balls, not realizing he’d just provided me with the perfect conversation starter. I gave Delilah a small smile. Don’t wanna creep her out with a full-on grin. “They don’t. He’s from the shelter. I volunteer there once in a while, and they let me take him out on walks.” I was careful not to sound like I was boasting; people did that so often—they talked about their time volunteering like they were Mother Teresa or some shit. Delilah wasn’t the kind of girl who’d fall for that, so I made sure to keep it short—no biggie, just something I do.
“That’s really cool of you,” she said. The ghost of a smile reached her lips—cherry lips, maybe raspberry, I love berries, Dee—and she was finally seeing me, really seeing me. She liked what she saw, I could tell. But before I could capitalize on the moment, she glanced back at her house and her mouth tightened into a thin line. “I gotta go to the store.”
“I’ll walk you there,” I said.
“No, I—I’ll be fine.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Come on, I gotta walk Daddy anyway.”
“Daddy?” Delilah grinned, and I caught a glimpse of the old Delilah, the one I’d seen in her pictures. It made my heart glow. “That’s such a cute name.”
Daddy perked up at the sound of his name, and I had to haul him back before he could pounce on Delilah and lick her to death. “Where are my manners?” I said. “Daddy, this is Delilah. Delilah, this is Daddy.” I leaned closer to her and lowered my voice. “Careful, he’s a bit of a perv.”
Delilah laughed and crouched down to scratch Daddy behind his ears. I got a whiff of her scent—something that reminded me of pure, white petals. I had to stop myself from scooping her into my arms and inhaling all of her.
“Hey, big guy,” she murmured.
Daddy sagged against her, panting happily. “See, he likes you,” I said. “Come on, Daddy, let’s walk Delilah to the store.” I turned and started walking in the direction of the supermarket before Delilah could answer. She was a natural follower. I knew this much, at least. But part of me still crossed my fingers tight and prayed she’d follow my lead.
I smiled when I heard her footsteps walking toward mine. Phew. I searched for something to say. Again, I was faced with a mountain of information I’d so patiently gathered about her, none of it usable. I couldn�
�t ask her about volleyball, nor could I ask her about Tan Jing Xu, nor could I ask her about Singapore—
Or maybe I could. I mean, it was no secret she was half-Singaporean. Most people would know stuff like that about their classmates, right? Quick, before the silence overwhelms everything.
“Singapore,” I blurted.
Sweet Jesus, if I could only punch myself in the face.
“Sorry?” she said. The walls had clapped up around her, and she was looking at me warily.
“I just remembered—I think I overheard someone mention you’re half-Singaporean,” I said. I was babbling. I was a train veering off the rails and I had to save it, steer myself back, or I was going to end in a massive crash.
“Yeah…?” she said. Still with so much caution.
“My mom—” Great, I’ve brought up my mom. This could not get any worse. “She’s one of the deans at Duke. Have you heard about the Duke-NUS program?”
It was a desperate last grasp at straws. Her dad was a graduate of NUS. Maybe it was dirty to bring up this connection, but love and war and all that…
Her face lit up, and it was worth it. “Yeah, I know about the Duke-NUS program.”
“Cool,” I said, joy rising through my chest. Her smile, I swear. “My mom’s in charge of that program. Well, not in charge, but like, she’s on the team, and she travels back and forth to Singapore quite a bit. She loves it there.” Now I sounded like I was boasting, and I had to reel it back in, because I didn’t want to boast, I just wanted to make a connection.
“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes wide. “No way. That’s amazing, Logan. Wow,” she said again, and her gaze was fully on me, her attention all mine, and I was flying, flying into the stratosphere. “I love it there,” she said. “My dad’s Singaporean, and he took me a few times.”
I didn’t wait for her to realize she’d said “my dad’s Singaporean” instead of “my dad was Singaporean.” “Did you have roti prata? My mom’s always raving about it.”
Now she was beaming hard and I could die happy, I really could.
The Obsession Page 3