Wow, I was totally a country bumpkin compared to all this. What on earth was Liam doing hanging out with me? He had to think I was super lame. On the other hand, he wasn’t snobby and he was the one who came to see me.
But he looked so out of place with his ripped jeans and worn shoes.
“Liam, is that you?” said a girl’s voice from around the corner.
“Yeah,” Liam called.
“Oh, good, for a second I thought you were Dad.” A teenage girl a year or two younger than Liam entered. “I didn’t realize you were here already.” Her long, dark hair matched Liam’s but instead of blue eyes, hers were brown. She had on black yoga pants, a white tank top, and bare feet. In her hand was a thin pole about a foot taller than she was.
“Yeah, Aya, this is Ryker, my little sister. Ryker, this is Aya.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “I didn’t know Liam had a sister.”
“Thanks for mentioning me.” Ryker swatted Liam’s arm with her pole. “I’ve heard all about you, Aya.”
“You have?”
“Anyway, Ryker,” Liam said, “now you two have met, and I’m sure you have lots of other stuff to do.”
“No, I was just getting done with practice.”
“What kind of practice?” I eyed her stick.
“Just some martial arts.”
“Really?” I said. “You practice with a stick?”
“Weapons are the best part,” Ryker said. “I love it, but don’t tell my Dad. I like to complain about it to him.”
“Ready to go, Aya?” Liam asked.
“What? You just got here,” Ryker said. “Come on, Aya. Let me show you the dojo.”
“You have a dojo? In your house?”
“Ryker . . .” Liam warned.
“What? Are you afraid she’ll like me more than you? Come on, Aya.”
The apartment was set up so every room had a share of the massive glass windows. In the inside space was a hall.
“Here’s my room,” Ryker said. It was entirely decorated with band pictures, and there was a guitar leaning against a chair. Transparent photos that could have been old slides but bigger were affixed to the windows. Every surface was covered in anything from magazines to nail polish to shoes, with the occasional throwing star mixed in.
I bet she had a ton of cute clothes.
Ryker kept walking. “And here’s Liam’s room.”
His room was spotless and seemed plain after Ryker’s. The bed was neatly made, with a gray coverlet and navy-blue pillows. There was a couch, chairs, a desk with a computer, and not much else.
“I know,” Ryker said like she could guess exactly what I was thinking. “Could he be any lamer?”
It didn’t seem to fit. Liam’s car downstairs was clean but had so much of his personality in it. This was boring compared to that.
“Thanks a lot,” Liam said. “I thought you were supposed to make me look cool in front of the girls I bring home.”
“Oh, is that what you said?” Ryker put her hand over her mouth, like she forgot something. “I thought you said, ‘make me look lame.’”
I laughed at Liam’s scowl, but I could tell he really didn’t mean it.
“How often do you bring girls home?” I said.
Liam opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to think of anything to say.
Ryker grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the open space at the end of the hall.
“Liam never brings girls home,” Ryker whispered conspiratorially, but still loud enough for Liam to hear. “That’s why it’s sooooo funny.”
“I think he’s regretting it.”
“If Liam didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have brought you here for pretty much anything. He wouldn’t want to risk anyone unworthy encountering our dad.”
“You do realize I’m still here, don’t you?” Liam said.
“Did you hear something, Aya?” Ryker cocked her head, like she was hearing voices.
“Have you ever thought,” Liam said, “that it’s not Dad I’m trying to avoid, but you?”
Ryker didn’t even glance at her brother. “See he’s afraid you’ll like me more than him. But it’s not my fault he pales when compared to my awesomeness.”
“You wish,” Liam said.
We stepped over the threshold of the Dojo. By this point, I shouldn’t be surprised by the size, but I was. The floor was covered in thick foam mats. The far wall was made of windows like the rest of the apartment, but it was covered in a transparent cream fabric that diffused the sunlight from outside. Sinister-looking weapons lined the other three walls—every sort of knife, sword, and throwing star.
“I’m guessing you guys don’t have problems with people breaking in?” I said.
“They wouldn’t stand a chance,” Ryker said. “Although, it’d be fun to see them try.”
Off to the side were shelves of practice weapons made of wood or foam.
“Bo staff,” Ryker yelled as she grabbed another stick and threw it to Liam.
“You really want to do this now?” Liam raised his eyebrows and spun the staff in his hand. He grabbed an inhaler out of his backpack and took two deep breaths with it before approaching Ryker. I hadn’t known he had asthma.
“Oh, come on, you know you’d like to show off,” Ryker said.
“You think so?” He swung the staff at her feet.
She leapt up, bringing her knees to her chest and the wood swung harmlessly beneath her. She landed lightly on her feet and struck Liam in the arm. He hit her stick away and swung his staff, but she blocked it. In the same movement she swung at Liam’s leg. He knocked her weapon aside and hit her lightly on the arm. This went on for a full five minutes, this dance of near misses, and light hits. I couldn’t take my gaze from them.
I’d never in my life wanted to do martial arts. But now, watching Liam and Ryker fight with such grace and strength, I wanted to be a part of it. Back in Grand Central if I’d known how to do what they did, perhaps I could have defended myself without having to make the world think there’d been a terrorist attack. And last night hitting a punching bag helped me empty the red.
Ryker’s phone dinged from its place on the shelf.
“Hold,” she yelled out between gasps and Liam stopped. She read the message. “It’s just a friend. Want to keep going?”
“Nah.” Liam wiped his forehead on the bottom of his shirt. Holy six pack. “We really should be going.”
“Actually,” I said as casually as I could. “You guys don’t want to teach me how to do that.” I pointed at the staff. “Do you?”
“Sure.” Liam’s smile was stunning. “That would be fun.”
Ryker grabbed another staff off the shelf. “Of course, I always want someone new to torture.”
“Cool.” I took the staff from Ryker. Learning with them would be fun.
“Let’s see what you can do.” Liam tapped the end of his staff against mine.
“I might have a few tricks up my sleeve,” I said, unable to help the mischievous grin on my face.
“Move one foot forward,” Liam said. “You need a strong stance.” He was only a foot away from me. He put his hands on my hips, and my heart jumped into overdrive. “Like this.” He moved one of my feet forward, then pushed, testing my stance.
“Hey,” I said, but I didn’t move.
“Good.” He stepped back. “Grab the staff in the middle, with the palm up,” Liam said. “Then lead with the pinky, up in a scooping motion into a figure eight from left to right, on alternating sides of your body.”
I moved the staff around me, making a flying cage. I went slow at first, then pushed faster and faster.
“My arm is already tired,” I said.
“We just need to get you stronger,” Ryker said.
There was something amazing about this movement: so strong and fast and exhilarating. Then— Thwack.
“Ouch!” That is until I hit myself in the face. I couldn’t help but laugh and my eyes watered.
“Are you okay?” And then Liam was so close, I couldn’t move.
The laugh died in my throat. “I’m fine. I really didn’t hit it that hard.”
“Let me look at it.” Liam reached up like he was going to touch me.
I did the first thing that came to mind—a backwards handspring. I landed on my feet a few paces behind where I’d just been. Liam stood with his mouth open, stunned, like I’d kicked him in the face.
“I told you I had some tricks up my sleeve.” I enjoyed the shocked look on his face.
Ryker jogged to where I stood. “I knew I liked you. Put it here.” She raised her hand to give me a five. “That was fantastic. If you can bust out moves like that, this’ll be easy.”
“If I can manage not to hit myself in the face.” I grinned at Liam, and his look of shock morphed into a huge smile.
“Awesome,” he said.
We played around for the next hour or so. They showed me some punches and kicks, and they were familiar from the kickboxing classes I’d taken with my mom. Except these were more controlled, and more fun because of who I was hanging out with.
By the end I was tired and hungry. I glanced at my phone. It was after one. “We should probably go. Did you want to get some lunch before we go to the museum?”
“Sure,” Liam said.
“Did you want to come with us, Ryker?” I asked.
Ryker glanced at her brother, and he shook his head almost imperceptibly.
“Nah, I better not,” she said. Her phone chimed. “That’s Dad. He’s says he’ll be home in five minutes.”
“Then that’s definitely our cue to go.” Liam grabbed my bag. “See you.”
“It was nice to meet you, Ryker,” I said. “Let’s do it again.”
“Come over Monday.” She walked us to the elevator.
“That would be fun.” I hit the button, and we stepped on. “See you!”
Ryker waved back as the door closed.
We were silent for a moment before I said, “So, you don’t want your dad to meet me?”
Liam turned to me. “Why would you think that?”
“We did just flee your apartment when you thought he was coming home.”
He was silent for a moment.
“No, I’m way more worried about you meeting him than the other way around. I’m afraid if you meet him, you’ll never want to come back. Ryker can be a lot to handle, but Ryker and my dad in the same day.” He shuddered.
“He can’t be that bad.”
“You’ve never met him.”
“Now I’m all sorts of curious.”
“I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime, but today is not that day.”
The door opened to the granite and glass covered lobby.
“Did you want to walk or take the subway?” Liam said when we stepped out into the sunshine.
“Jolly good, chap! Did you mean the Tube?” I said in an exaggerated English accent.
He rolled his eyes.
I laughed. “It’s so beautiful out, let’s walk,”
The city was lovely, especially in this perfect weather. The traffic, rushing people, and eclectic architecture had charms outside my usual definitions of beauty. The people who shared the sidewalks were so varied, with the super model walking side-by-side with a garbage collector. I wanted to match every color of skin with my paint and learn each of their stories.
“I like your sister,” I said.
“You do? Why?”
“I just do. She’s funny.”
“Funny until she attacks you at three in the morning with that staff of hers, then she claims it is for your good, so you stay alert.”
I giggled at the mental picture.
“What is your home in Montana like?” he asked.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Well, get the image of your high-rise in your mind,” I said. “Are you imagining it?”
Liam closed his eyes but kept walking. “Yep.”
“Oh, let me help you there, so you don’t run into anything.” I stood behind him and grabbed his arms that were covered with his long-sleeved shirt and then proceeded to push him into a fire hydrant, garbage can, and brick building.
“We can cross out seeing-eye dog from your list of potential careers,” he said when he hit the corner of a hotdog stand, and finally opened his eyes. “And don’t think you can distract me away from my question.” His smile made my heart pound and the red inside me whirl.
“Okay, my house is the complete opposite of yours,” I said. “We moved to Bozeman when I was three. My mom spent the next four years renovating this house that was built in 1904. I guess it was totally trashed when she started, but now it’s beautiful. It’s not big, but it seems big with just my mom and me in it. My mom has her bedroom and her music room. A few years ago, I moved up to the attic, so I could have the huge space for my bedroom/studio. My mom put in four skylights and big windows at either end, so I have enough light.” I smiled at the memory. “I found this picture of a beautiful riad in Morocco with turquoise walls and billowing fabric of red and orange, and I did my best to make my attic a piece of the exotic. Of course, most of the blue walls are covered by drawings now, but I know it’s there. I painted a gigantic world map on the wood floor in gold paint. A friend and I went and collected driftwood from the river in the fall and added it to my bed to make it four-poster, and I draped fabric and tiny lights over it.” I stopped, the heat in my cheeks rising. “It probably sounds silly compared to your apartment.”
“No, it sounds amazing.”
“The outside of our house is painted pale green with white trim, and we sit on the porch swing in the evening in the summer. The basement is seriously scary, though. We try not to go down there for any reason. Oh, and we have chickens.”
“Chickens?” Liam said. “You mean like the animal that lays eggs?”
I gave his shoulder a push. “No, I mean the animal that breathes fire.”
His hand grabbed my forearm as I stepped away and it slid down, like he would grab my hand.
19
I’ve tried to express the terrible passions of humanity with red.
—Vincent van Gogh
I pulled away before he could touch my skin. But, of course, he noticed and shoved his hands into his pockets.
How long could this go on, this not being able to touch each other? I wanted to, I really did, but I needed it to be real. I needed to be in control. I didn’t want the red to make him want me. It needed to be real for him, too. Was that too much to ask now? Would I ever have something real? I didn’t have much red inside me, but would that matter? I just needed to tell him not to touch me for a while, just until I worked things out. But how would he take that? Even if he was upset, it was better than me hurting him.
“Hey, Liam?” I said.
“Yeah?” his hands were still jammed into his pockets.
“You know how you asked yesterday if I was all right?”
“Yeah?”
“This might seem like a strange request, but can you not touch me? I know it seems weird, but there is just a lot of stuff I’m trying to work through right now.”
“Oh.” Liam stopped and studied my face for a moment. “If that’s what you want.”
I nodded. He couldn’t know the reason. I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
He didn’t say anything, either, and we kept walking.
“So where did you want to eat?” Liam asked after a few minutes of silence.
“I don’t care, Mr. New York, is there any place good?”
“Hello! This is New York.” He acted enthusiastic, but something of the at ease Liam of earlier was gone. “Any kind of food you want, and we can find it. Or we’re close to the park. We could get some take out and eat there.”
“That sounds perfect. I need a little sun.” I’d been holed up in my room too much lately. “But no burgers or pizza.”
“There’s a Greek place a few bl
ocks over. We could grab some gyros.”
“You sure know the way to any girl’s heart,” I said. “Do you hate going to art school during the summer when you could be doing something else?”
“Well, last year I had to take Chinese, so art school is way better.”
“Chinese?”
“Yeah, my dad says Asia is the future, so I’ve studied Chinese the last four summers.”
“Don’t you ever do anything normal, like sleep until noon and then spend the rest of the day playing video games and watching TV?” I asked.
“What are these video games you speak of?” Liam pulled a face. “My dad won’t even let them in the house because they are ‘a complete waste of time.’”
“Does he expect you to be the President of the United States and the CEO of some Fortune Five Hundred company by the time you’re thirty-five?”
“Something like that,” he said.
We reached the gyro shop. It was small but smelled amazing. A seasoned leg of lamb spun beneath a heating lamp behind the guy at the counter. It was fascinating to watch him carve off little strips of meat for our lunch, and we ordered everything to go.
When we stepped back outside, Liam said, “So tell me about Montana.”
“What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been there.”
“I think it’s funny that you have been all over Europe and Asia, and you haven’t been to Montana. People travel from all over the world to come see Yellowstone National Park.”
“Going to a national park would imply some kind of a vacation, which we don’t usually do. All our travel is strictly educational or business. I should see if I can get my dad to sign some kind of contract with the buffalo, so I could go to Montana all the time for business.”
I laughed. “I’ve heard those bison can be stubborn to work with.”
“But really, what’s it like?”
“It’s winter for half the year, and if you can manage to not freeze to death, summer makes it all worth it. Montana is exactly like something you’d see in Lord of the Rings, except without the magic elves and hobbits and stuff. It’s stunningly beautiful. From where I live, mountains stretch for hundreds of miles in every direction in a wild carpet that might not know humans exist.”
Alizarin Crimson Page 14