I take a deep breath and go back to organizing boxes.
I roll up the sleeping bag and move the cot to make piles, separate each item by category, and eventually find a hidden alcove. I gather a bunch of clothing and blankets to mimic a bed. Zain seems to be okay with me staying here for a few days, might as well make myself at home. This attic is already more of a home than living under Percy’s roof ever was.
Despite having breakfast, I’m hungry again. Zain won’t be home for a while, and the porcelain throne calls like a siren. Why do I have to pee more and more now? Is it a side effect of being pregnant? I stand and creep downstairs to his bathroom. I close the lid, afraid to flush, but I can’t go without washing my hands, so I turn on the facet very slowly.
When I shut it off, there’s movement.
I run on tiptoes to the door and peek through the crack. His mom is dancing around with a basket attached to her hip and a bluetooth device to her ear. My heart races as I go to his closet. It’s a mess. I can’t close the door. I sit on a box of sand, too nervous to question why he has one, and cover my legs with his letterman’s jacket, hoping his clothes hang low enough to cover me.
“Yeah,” she sings, lowering the basket of clean laundry and pulling out a stack.
I try not to breathe. My clothes from last night are on top. Jeans and a Rolling Stones t-shirt. Hopefully she won’t notice the size difference, or maybe she thinks they’re Farren’s. A little laugh escapes at this thought. Farren in a Rolling Stones tee? NOT! Zain’s mother pauses, “Hello?”
I hold my breath.
“Yep, mistletoe and wine. Can’t have a Christmas party without them. I just finished the laundry, so I’ll head out soon to pick up the rest.”
She presses a button by her ear and goes back to dancing.
When she leaves, I take a deep breath and bury my head in Zain’s jacket. It smells like him. A little woodsy with a hint of candy.
My skin tingles at the temptation to wear it. Screw it. I put it on and go upstairs. It’s cold, so I have an excuse.
About an hour later, I’ve eaten all the snacks Zain left, and the pile of empty boxes has doubled.
The attic stairs creak. I hide in my alcove.
The smell of greasy burgers and fries fills the air.
“Bray?”
I poke my head out.
Zain sighs. “I thought maybe you left.”
He surveys the attic. “Whoa.”
“Yeah, I got bored.”
“Thank you. But you could’ve spent the day watching Netflix.”
“You didn’t leave me headphones, and your mom just left. She stayed home to do laundry. We had a close call when I went to the restroom.”
“Oh, well, she’s gone now, and we have a few hours before my siblings get home and I have to leave to volunteer. You hungry?”
“Very.”
“Wanna go to the playroom and watch a movie or something?”
“Sure, but after I wash my hands.”
“I’ll make our plates.”
I clean up in his bathroom and search Netflix. Bingo!
Zain comes in with two plates, a ketchup bottle, and a glass to go with the food he put on the coffee table. I sit on the couch by the arm, and he gives us both a burger and separates the fries and a giant soda.
“I got the biggest combo instead of two in case anyone got suspicious. Less evidence.”
“Thanks for the food.”
“No problem.”
He dips a fry into ketchup, and I can’t help but watch him watch the movie. Zain’s eyes crinkle. His belly doesn’t move when he laughs because he doesn’t have one. How I’d like to rub my hands over those abs. I doubt he’ll be a fan of my stomach soon.
Last night, I took my time changing because I want him to remember me this way. When the baby is gone, maybe he’ll be able to picture me without stretch marks and a jello stomach.
I put my plate down, done and finally satisfied. Zain mimics me and finds a velvety red blanket to drape over us.
Sooner than I’d like, the movie ends.
“What now?” he asks.
I shrug. “I doubt we have long before the bus gets here.”
He checks his phone. “Half an hour.”
I lay on my back with my knees up. “This couch is way more comfortable than a sleeping bag. I might take a nap.”
“Do your muscles hurt?”
“A bit, but my cold feet are the worst.”
He wraps his arm under my legs and sits my feet on his lap. I start to protest, but the foot massage is so soothing, my eyes flutter closed.
His voice pulls me from my in between state.
“Bray, are you really okay?” His voice is soft and concerned.
“No.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yeah.” He hasn’t given me a reason not to, and he’s not a ticking time-bomb like Sebastian, the smallest things setting him off.
“Then let me help you. Whatever it is.”
“I need help moving a body,” I say, holding back a laugh.
He takes a deep breath. “Okay.” Zain doesn’t laugh. His face has lost color, and he’s stiff but calm.
“I’m kidding.”
His whole body relaxes.
“You thought I killed someone?”
“In self-defense. Bray, I don’t want to offend you, but you’ve been off the last few days. It made sense.”
“I haven’t killed anyone. I did steal a kitchen knife from Sebastian’s and hold it to my foster dad’s throat, but I didn’t hurt him. Just a tiny nick.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it? No interrogation?”
“Bray,” he says, looking into my eyes. “I know who you are. You’re not going to tell me anything if I pressure you. And I have a feeling I’m the only one you’ve got right now, so the last thing I want is to push you away.”
My eyes water. “Dang hormones.”
He reaches for my hand and helps me sit up until we’re shoulder to shoulder. “I’ll tell you a secret,” Zain says. “I was jealous of you and Sebastian because ever since the day I met you, I wanted to be the one kissing you.”
He lets out a breath and squeezes his eyes, clutching my hands like a scared kid before a plane lifts off. “And Sebastian is never going to forgive me, and I’m a horrible friend because—”
Zain opens his eyes and places his hand on my cheek. My eyes don’t know where to focus, but I think he’s going to kiss me.
“I don’t care,” he finishes. “He was wrong about us getting together behind his back, but he’s spot on about my feelings for you.”
“Are you going to kiss me?”
“Do you want me to?”
The downstairs door opens. My heart skips a beat. Zain’s leaning in like he didn’t hear it. I grab my burger wrapper and stuff it into his mouth.
He blows it out, and it pelts me in the face. We both laugh until the running starts.
“I get the TV,” Potter yells.
Zain grabs our trash. “Go!”
I sprint to the attic and collapse at the top. It’s hard to outrun a five year old. They’re balls of energy.
Oh my gosh, I was going to let Zain kiss me. I was going to ruin his life for the next six months, possibly longer, because I’m selfish.
I don’t deserve him.
Chapter 29
The rest of the afternoon, all I can think about is our almost kiss—again. One minute, I think Bray wants me to kiss her; the next, it’s like she’s getting ready to jet. I wish she’d trust me enough to give me a little bit of what’s going on. If she stuck a knife to her foster father’s neck, it’s something that happened with him.
And what was the whole sex party about?
I want to protect her. But th
e thing I’ve learned about Bray this past year is that she protects herself. She doesn’t trust unless you earn it. Whatever is going on with her is deep. So, in order to be able to tell me about it, she needs to trust me deeply.
That leads me to only one conclusion. I don’t need to kiss her. I don’t need to tell her how I feel. I don’t need to add pressure to her already troubled world.
And I don’t need to continue to build the void that’s happening between Sebastian and me.
What I will do is be Bray’s friend. And I will earn her trust.
“Zain? You can stop cleaning the table now,” Mrs. Fuller says. “You’ve been wiping it down for the past ten minutes. It’s definitely clean.” She gives her warm, grandmother smile.
The last few diners at church left and headed to the sanctuary for Reverend Hulbert’s nightly prayer without me realizing it.
“You seem a little distracted. Why don’t you go on home?” She grabs the rag and pushes me out the door, handing me a bag of leftover food. Hopefully, she won’t ask Mom about it when she sees her on Sunday. It’s going straight to Bray.
On my way home, I stop by a convenience store and buy two big cups of crushed ice, a 12-pack of soda, and an assortment of snacks. I shove everything into my gym bag and head inside, setting my bag by the stairs before walking into the family room.
“I’m home. I’m heading to the attic.”
“How’s that coming along?” Mom asks, rubbing Potter’s blond head as the entire family watches A Christmas Story.
“Slowly but surely.” Actually, better since Bray took it upon herself to organize a bunch of boxes this morning. I can’t let her leave anytime soon. She’s much better at that shit than I am.
“Why don’t you take tonight off and finish this movie with us.” She pats her hand on the empty seat next to her on the couch. The twins are sprawled out on big floor pillows, and my dad is in his trusty recliner.
“I watched it when I got home from school. Otherwise, I would.”
She narrows her eyes. “Fine.”
“Saturday’s the big Christmas party,” Dad says. “Feel free to invite a friend.”
“I’m allowed?”
“Don’t you usually invite a friend?”
“Yeah, but I’m not usually in hot water during the party.”
“You’ve been doing your duties without complaint. If I would’ve thought about it, I wouldn’t have booked you know who to come. You’d look great in a red suit.”
“It’s a good thing you already booked you know who. I might have given you attitude if you forced me to do that.”
He laughs.
“I’m out. Goodnight.”
Bray is already going to be here. She might as well come down for the Christmas party.
I head up the two flights of stairs.
Remember, Zain, keep it friendly. No trying to kiss her tonight.
I don’t see her when I first reach the top of the stairs. I ring the small bell we designated as code that it’s me. Nothing. My breath hitches and my nerves send shockwaves down my body. Did she leave?
I ring it louder.
A faint light comes on from the farthest part of the attic—the narrow crawl space over the garage. I flip on the main light and look around. She’s been busy. If she keeps this up, this will all be done by Saturday, and my stock with my father will continue to rise.
I walk my way through the maze of boxes then duck my head and enter the narrow crawl space. “I got scared for a minute. I thought you may have left.”
“And where would I go?” She rolls her eyes but smiles. “I thought I’d be safer back here. It’s colder but more hidden.”
A pile of blankets and clothes have been formed into a make-shift bed larger than the cot. She’s wearing my letterman jacket and beanie, with gloves covering her hands.
You are not to kiss her, Zain. But look at those pink puffy lips. She needs warming up. No. Just no. Gain her trust. Earn that kiss.
I tug on the sleeve of my jacket she’s wearing. “Does this mean we’re an item now?”
She bursts out laughing then contains herself. “They probably heard that.”
I wave her off. This area is closer to the family room, but it’s still two floors up.
“I come bearing gifts.” I pull out the food from the shelter and my haul from the convenience store. Pop goes the tab of the Dr. Pepper can. I pour it over one of the cups of ice I bought.
Bray takes in all the goodies. “Geez, you went a little overboard.”
“Zain?”
I lift up at the sound of my mom’s faint voice, hitting my head on the short ceiling.
“Ow!” I quickly crawl out of the alcove and move a few conveniently placed boxes to close off the crawl space. I walk out to the main part of the attic, rubbing my head where a knot has already formed.
Mom runs her fingers along the rocking horse Potter loved when he was one. “We thought we heard laughter coming from up here. So, we decided to come check on your progress and make sure you weren’t throwing a wild party.”
“Ha ha. I was talking to Theo. Didn’t realize I was so loud.” I hope my eyes aren’t showing the lies.
“You’ve really done a lot up here,” Dad says, walking toward the crawl space.
It’s not completely hidden by the boxes. And Bray’s homemade bed is a clear indication that someone is staying here, even if she’s nicely hidden deeper in the alcove.
“Look what I found, Dad.” I pick up my old baseball glove.
Dad coached the little league team Theo, Sebastian, and I played on. He’s always loved baseball. He was a little disappointed in the three of us when we quit and stuck with basketball in fifth grade.
He walks back to the main part of the attic. “I’ll oil it up, and maybe we can teach Potter how to throw when it warms outside.”
“I’d love that.”
“Proud of what you’ve done here, son.” Dad stands next to me. “Keep it up, and maybe when school starts back, we can drop the volunteering until basketball season is done.”
“Thanks, Dad. Volunteering hasn’t been bad.” I wouldn’t be Bray’s knight in shining armor if I didn’t show up at church that night.
“I’m glad to hear that. Don’t stay up here too long.”
They walk downstairs. When I hear the door shut, I let out a deep exhale and return to the crawl space.
“That was close,” Bray whispers.
“Too close.” I rub the back of my neck.
She envelops my hand in hers, sending electric vibes up my arm. “Hey, I can leave if this is causing you too much stress.”
“It would cause me more stress knowing you’re out in the cold somewhere.”
Don’t kiss her, Zain. But she’s so close. Her lips are right here, five inches away. Think of Sebastian.
“Let’s move the food to the other side of the attic,” she says.
“Good idea.”
While Bray eats, I make a trap with the bell, a piece of string, and a basket of tennis balls that will alert us sooner if someone sneaks up again. We then head back to the crawl space and watch a movie sharing a set of earbuds. The drafty space is a good excuse to cuddle on her make-shift bed.
“What happened between you and Farren?” she whispers when the credits roll.
“It was long overdue.”
“I could’ve told you that, but what finally ended it?”
“Socks.” I touch my socked toes to hers.
“Socks?”
“Yeah, the socks I got you for your birthday. So, Sebastian is kind of right. I did break up with Farren because of you.”
Her eyebrows knit together “Why did you guys stay together for so long?”
“I almost broke up with her right before you came to Merryville, but I couldn’t do it. He
r mom died our sophomore year. We got really close because of that. But after, Farren started changing into the bitch she is today. Drinking more. Partying nonstop. She even cheated on me with Devin a couple times.
“We’d been through so much together, I guess I felt sorry for her and thought things would go back to the way they were. But nope.”
“So, you chose to torture yourself.”
I stare at the ceiling—no longer covered in cobwebs or crawling with daddy long legs. “Somewhat. I always had two reasons for staying with her.”
“And what are those?”
“I’ll tell you one. You’ll need to give me something to get the other.”
She follows my gaze to the wooden slats above. “Okay.”
“I was always afraid I’d get cut from the basketball team if I broke up with her.”
“That’s silly.”
I turn onto my side, tracing the contours of her perfectly-shaped nose with my eyes. “I know, but basketball means a lot to me. And at the time, I still wanted to play in college.”
“And you don’t now?”
“I didn’t think any school was interested up until a few days ago. I’d still love to play, if someone wants me.”
She turns over, facing me. “What’s the other reason?”
“You first.”
She holds her breath as her eyes dart back and forth. “My real mom abused me.” Her ice blue eyes fixate on mine, hypnotizing me the way they did the first day I met her.
I rub her cheek, and her eyes close, breaking the connection. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugs. “Now you.”
I feel my cheeks warm even though it’s only sixty degrees up here. “My other reason was sex. Farren liked it just as much as I did.”
Her face turns rosy, and she turns over onto her back. “Sebastian and I never had that problem.”
“Yeah, he’s stupid.”
Bray’s jaw pops when she yawns.
I sit up, avoiding the rafters. “I’ll head to my room. I’ve got early practice in the morning.”
“Can you come pick me up after practice and take me to school? I’ve got something I need to do.”
Unwrap My Heart Page 11