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St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 2

Page 6

by Seven Steps


  She shrugged. “He’s cute and smart. And my father thinks he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. At home it’s all Grant this and Grant that and why don’t you give that Grant boy a call.”

  “But who do you want to go out with?”

  She dropped her gaze to her book. “Grant isn’t so bad, I guess.”

  She hadn’t answered the question, but her smile distracted me enough not to mention it.

  “And, who’s the lucky girl you’re going to ask to the Spring Fling?”

  You.

  “Um… I haven’t decided yet.”

  “You’re lying.”

  I was indeed lying.

  “No. Really.”

  “You know who you want to ask. Come on, tell me.” She nudged me with one dainty elbow. “Is she cute?”

  My eyes raked over Cassia’s heart shaped face.

  “Gorgeous.”

  “And smart?”

  “Brilliant.”

  “Is she a snob?”

  “Not in the least.”

  She gave me another push but this time I didn’t pretend to be injured. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from her.

  She was heartbreakingly perfect.

  “So, what’s the problem? Ask her already.”

  I shrugged. “I can’t. She’s way out of my league. Plus, she’s kind of into someone else.”

  I finally found the will to rip my eyes away from her and pick a piece of nonexistent lint from my jeans. If I continued to gawk at Cassia one of two things would happen. I would confess my undying love and throw myself at her feet, or she would be creeped out and never speak to me again.

  Neither one of those things were an option.

  “Aw, Alex I’m sorry.” She leaned forward and plucked my chin with two fingers. “She’s probably a douchebag anyway,” she whispered.

  Her semi-foul language made me snort and I had no choice but to look at her again. I loved it when she talked like that. It was so shockingly different from the sophisticated girly girl that sat next to me. I liked to think that I was the only one she said those words to.

  “Yeah, definitely.”

  “Well, keep your chin up. One day a girl is going to come along that is going to knock your socks off. And, when she does, make sure that you tell her how you feel before someone else comes and steals her away. Okay? Promise?”

  “Yeah. I promise.” My words were hoarse and choked, but honest.

  “I know what will cheer you up.”

  She ripped out a sheet of paper and wrote, A League of their Own.

  I sighed. I wasn’t really in the mood for one of our games, but I played anyway.

  I thought for a minute and wrote Bad Boys.

  She penciled in Casablanca.

  I added in Django Unchained.

  And so, we went, making a list of movies from A to Z. No repeats. The person who went the longest won the game.

  When we played movie titles, Cassia won most of the time. She was a movie naming genius.

  I was more of a TV guy. I won those games.

  She was better at naming actors. I was better at naming board game titles.

  We were both terrible at song titles.

  This was how we passed the time in class. Making long list of things we enjoyed. Passing a single sheet of paper back and forth when we should have been paying attention.

  It was the best part of my day.

  By the time the bell rang, we’d finished movie titles and gone onto board games. I’d just written R for Risk when we closed our books.

  She was right. Our game did cheer me up. Doing anything or even nothing with Cassia always cheered me up.

  “Hey Alex.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Will you promise me something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Promise me you’ll tell this girl how you feel. I mean, I know it’s none of my business or anything, but I think that the worst thing in life is to like someone and keep it inside. It eats at you, you know? Just, promise me that you’ll tell her? Please?”

  I let out a sigh and nodded.

  One day, I would tell that girl how I felt. When things were better. When I was no longer a foreigner in her world of diamonds, cars, and wealth. When I could give her everything her heart ever desired.

  A day that would probably never come. Who was I kidding? I was born in the gutter. I would probably die in some cubical somewhere, in debt up to my eyeballs, and just trying to make it to my next paycheck.

  I’d never check all her father’s check boxes.

  I was never going to be a part of Cassia’s world.

  And deep down in my heart I knew that she would never be a part of mine.

  I put my head down and focused on my sneakers.

  Good grades I could have.

  It was the girl next to me that I couldn’t.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  5

  I returned home with heavy steps.

  I knew that Cassia was out of my league before, but hearing her talk about her dad and Grant made everything feel so final.

  So set in stone.

  So… over.

  Any hope of Cassia and I becoming more seemed so silly. Like a princess marrying a pauper. Me and Cassia could never be, and it felt like a huge hole had opened in my chest because of it.

  I'd almost forgotten about all my other dilemmas when Lindsey caught me walking through the kitchen.

  “Al, we have to give the money back.”

  For a moment, I didn’t know what she was talking about. Then, it all hit me at once.

  Lindsey had found a hidden bag of money. And now, not even twenty-four hours later, she wanted to give it back?

  “Why?” I asked. “What happened?”

  Her fingers twirled together nervously. When she realized I’d noticed, she put them behind her back.

  “Just a thought.”

  “Prompted by?”

  Her eyes flitted around the room. “Nothing really. I just thought about what you said, you know? About how we don’t know whose money it is. We should just put it back.”

  She swallowed.

  “You sure? What about Sweden?”

  She picked something off her sweat pants, avoiding my eye.

  Something was definitely up with her.

  “We’ll just have to find another way.”

  I took in my sister. She was home in the middle of the day, wearing sweatpants and a tank top. Normally she wasn’t at home at all. She was either at work or wherever else she went.

  “Why aren’t you at work?” I asked, dropping my book bag onto the kitchen floor.

  “I quit.”

  She said it so nonchalantly, like she was saying the sky was blue. Lindsey had worked at the dinner for the last two years. As far as I knew she liked it. She once called it, our ticket out of New York. To Lindsey, everything was a ticket out of here.

  “Why’d you quit?”

  She walked to the stove and picked up a grease stained red teapot, usually reserved for Ms. Tuck’s post work green tea.

  “It just wasn’t for me, you know? The boss was a jerk. He wanted me to come in when it snowed. You know I hate the snow.”

  I frowned, the pieces of Lindsey’s story starting to click into place.

  “When did you quit?”

  She flipped on the tap and put the teapot beneath it to fill. “December.”

  My anger soared. “December? You quit three months ago, and you didn’t tell me?”

  The water continued to loudly rush into the pot. The sound echoed through the small kitchen. A background noise to the hammering in my heart.

  “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “So, Ms. Tuck has been letting you slide on the rent?”

  “No.”

  In an ill-advised power move, Lindsey announced that she needed to pay Ms. Tuck rent money every month. This was followed by a second declaration that she didn’t want to owe anybody anything, especially not Ms.
Tuck. The poor woman tried to refuse, but Lindsey had been insistent, and now handed over half of her paycheck every month.

  I told her that it was a stupid thing to do, especially since Ms. Tuck never asked us for anything, but Lindsey was as stubborn as the day was long.

  “So, you got another job?”

  “No.”

  I wiped my hands down my face. “Don’t tell me you’ve been dipping into your savings just to pay rent?”

  “No.”

  “So, what’s going on then? You just quit your job and do what? Hang out on the streets begging for change to pay the rent that you insisted on?”

  She put the pot on the stove and turned the dial beneath it. The stove let off a flicking sound for a minute before it lit.

  “I’m not begging or any of that. Just know that the rent is being paid and that our savings is still there.”

  “But how are you getting the money?”

  She turned toward me, leaning one hand on her hip.

  “It doesn’t matter. The point is that bag of money is going back where I found it.” She sighed, as if this conversation was irritating her.

  “Why are you acting so weird?” I demanded. “First you want the money, then you want to put it back.”

  She raised a threatening eyebrow. “I’m just following your advice.”

  “Oh really? Was it my advice to quit your job? Was it may advice to constantly butt heads with the only woman in the world who ever gave two craps about us?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Mom and dad cared about us.”

  “Mom and dad are dead!” I blurted out. “And they’re not coming back, so all of this undercover crap your pulling and being a brat to Ms. Tuck for no reason… it’s idiotic. You are shooting yourself in the foot and you don’t even know it.”

  “What would you like me to do, Al? Roll over and accept all of the crap that life’s handed out to us?”

  “No. I want you to be grateful for what we have, starting with Ms. Tuck.”

  “We’re only a paycheck to her. Don’t you get that? If she wasn’t getting money to foster us, we wouldn’t be here.”

  “You’re eighteen. She’s not getting a check for you.”

  “But she is getting one for you. And once you turn eighteen, and the money stops rolling in, we’ll be out on the street.”

  “She’s already told you that we can stay here as long as we wanted.”

  “She was lying.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because all adults lie. That’s what they do. They lie and they leave and we can only rely on ourselves. Don’t you understand that? It’s just us.”

  My heart ached. My mouth opened and closed again. How could she live a life without trust? How could she feel safe in a world where she didn’t trust anyone? How could she be happy living like this?

  She turned her back to me and placed her hand on the handle of the boiling teapot.

  “Look, Al. I’m nobody’s charity case and no one’s push over. I don’t take handouts and I don’t follow the rules. Not for that jerk at the diner. Not for Ms. Tuck. Not even for you. If you want to stay here for another two years, then fine. But I’m not staying here and waiting for her to kick us out.”

  “Do you even hear yourself?”

  “I’m the only one talking like someone who is fighting back.”

  “Fighting back against what?”

  “Against becoming what mom and dad were. They left us, high and dry with nothing. Don’t you get that? Mom and dad left us with nothing. Now Ms. Tuck’s trying to do the same thing. Leave us with nothing. But she won’t do it to me. I’m going to make something of myself.”

  “Lindsey, you can make something of yourself now. You can go to school, you can get a job, and you can travel the world. No one has held you back. Not Ms. Tuck or me or anyone. You’re so busy being angry that you’re just pushing away everyone who’s ever cared about you, including Ms. Tuck and me.”

  “Look. The point is that I’m taking that money back, and then I’m gone.”

  My gut clenched.

  “Gone? Where are you going?”

  “Away. Far, far away.”

  “And what? You’re just going to leave me here?”

  She shrugged. “If I have to.”

  I bit my lower lip to keep from screaming at her. She was talking in crazy cryptic circles and I’d have enough. I snatched my book bag from the floor.

  “You may think that you’re so different from mom and dad but you’re not. You do what you want, you bolt when you want, and you don’t care who you bulldoze in the process. Even if it’s me. The way I see it, you’re just like them.”

  And then I stomped to my room and slammed the door.

  Lindsey could take back the money. I didn’t want it anyway. But if she thought she was going to leave without any warning or explanation, she was wrong. Lindsey and I were a package deal. She watched my back and I watched hers.

  And right now, she needed someone to watch her back, even if she didn’t know it. I was more determined than ever to find out what was going on with my sister, no matter what.

  6

  I sat on my computer, staring at the screen.

  Somehow, I’d ended up using Goggle Images to search the luxury condos on Central Park West.

  Cassia lived there, and I guess I needed to torture myself and see how the better half lived.

  And boy was it torture.

  While I was crammed into a small, three-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, Cassia was probably spread out on a couch somewhere in her nine thousand square foot luxury home. There’d probably be bear skinned rugs and fireplaces and televisions that dropped down out the ceilings and maybe even a waterfall or two. She probably dined on gold crusted hors d’oeuvre and truffles and drank only water imported from her own private spring in Tibet.

  Cassia’s family were insanely rich.

  To even have a chance with her, I’d have to change my entire lifestyle.

  Get a bigger place in a better part of town. Drive cars that cost more than college tuition. Dress in clothes all handmade by my own personal tailor. And have two rich parents.

  Yup. That was the sticking point.

  Why was I torturing myself? I would never have a chance with Cassia. Never in a million years.

  I closed the top of my laptop and tipped my head back in my chair. My eyes slid shut, and I took a deep breath.

  I just wanted one chance with Cassia Johnstone. Just one good chance to show her that I could be more than a friend. That I could be the man of her dreams. If she’d let me. And, more pressing, if I ever could afford it.

  I stood, and walked to the window, gazing at the moon as it traveled westward across the Brooklyn sky. It was quiet. Too quiet. No sounds of Lindsey sneaking out or back in. No cars backfiring or people outside yelling and laughing. Everything seemed still, giving me time to wonder about where my life was headed.

  Yes, I was good in school. One of the top ten students academically. And I was sure that I’d get a scholarship to college. But after that, where would I go? What would I do? Who would I be?

  A doctor? Nope. I hated the sight of blood.

  A lawyer? No way. I did not want to be stuck in a suit all day.

  An airplane pilot? Nah uh. Didn’t like heights.

  I sighed. What was the use of potential and head knowledge if there was no way to direct and funnel it into something great? Something useful.

  The only thing I knew was that I wanted to help people, which was ironic since I couldn’t help myself. Not with my sister and definitely not with Cassia.

  The cold window sill chilled my palm, but still I didn’t move my hand from the spot.

  I simply stood there, staring at the moon, wondering what would become of me.

  Wondering about tomorrow.

  7

  Ms. Tuck pulled on her coat about an hour after she’d pulled it off when she’d come home from work.

  “Going somewhere?” I as
ked, munching on some popcorn. It was Tuesday. Our America’s Got Talent night. This was how I measured every day. By which reality or cop show we’d settled down to watch. My favorite was Saturday, where we watched all the Family Feuds that we’d recorded during the week. Ms. Tuck and I swore we’d be on the show one day and that we’d win it all.

  “Yup. Got me another job.”

  I sat up in my chair. “Another job?”

  She nodded. “Just for a few hours down at the grocery store.”

  “Why do you need another job?” I asked.

  She shrugged and collected her bag from the side table. “We just need a few things. That’s all. I’ll be back in a few hours. Tape America’s Got Talent for me. I can’t miss my Simon.”

  She started for the door, but I put down my popcorn and beat her to it.

  “Tuck, what’s going on?”

  She shook her head. “Cut backs. Everyone’s feeling them.”

  “What kind of cut backs?”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you this because I didn’t want you to worry. But I was forced to retire from the Social Security Office today.”

  Ms. Tuck had worked at the state Social Security Office for as long as I’d known her.

  “What do you mean forced to retire?” I asked.

  “The state’s cutting back on jobs, and I was let go. I guess it’s easier to pay me my pension then to pay me my salary.” She tried to move past me, and away from this conversation, but I blocked her way.

  “What are you not telling me?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  Ms. Tuck’s expression sagged, like the weight of her words were pulling down her soul.

  “I’m telling you that we’re going to have some tough times, but we’re going to get through it. You are not going to go without.” She pinched my cheek softly. “You may miss a few iPhone upgrades here and there.”

  “Tuck-”

  “See that. I knew you’d worry.”

  I smoothed the wrinkles from my face. “I’m not worried.”

  She smiled. “Good. Neither am I. The Lord sees us, and he knows how much you eat. Remember the little sparrows, Al. You’re worth more than they are. Do you believe that?”

 

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