Look Closer

by Stewart Lewis

  “But still, it’s not like you stole my mother away from my father. It’s that you’re totally different from him, which is okay. I’m starting to realize that being different, or putting yourself in different situations, is a good thing.”

  He looks at me, like maybe he’s impressed with what he sees. “Okay, I accept your apology.”

  His phone beeps. He tells his secretary to hold his calls.

  “Now, what can I do for you?”

  I explain that we need a car tonight. I say it’s important, but play down Edge’s aunt’s alcohol-slash-gambling problem. I tell him we need to bring her medication, which is plausible.

  He agrees to let me borrow the Toyota truck he never got around to selling after he bought his Range Rover.

  “But if your mom finds out, I’m toast.”

  “She won’t. Oh my God, thank you so much! There’s one more thing. We’re going to be late. So you have to cover for me, maybe say you saw me asleep. When I get home, I can sneak in without you guys hearing. I’ve done it before.”

  He thinks about it for a second, then gives me a conspiratorial look and says, “Okay, but you have to text me every hour on the hour until you get home. I’ll keep my phone on vibrate.”

  Maybe it’s his way of trying to bond with me more, but I’ll take it. He pulls out his card with his cell number on it, slides the key to the truck off his key ring, and puts them both in my hand.

  “It’s parked on T Street by Thirteenth.”

  I feel like I could hug him, but I stand and say, “You rock.”

  “I’ll take it where I can get it,” he says, giving me a somewhat slippery smile that I disregard.

  When I get home, Edge and I plan our mission by text.

  At dinner, my mother goes on and on about the tile guy, how he is so talented and sweet, and she wants us to have him and his husband over for dinner. Larry sneaks looks at his stocks on his phone. I can barely eat because of nerves. I want everything to go all right tonight, but I also know it could be risky.

  After dinner, Larry winks at me as he and my mom head into the living room to watch a movie. I tell them I’m going to chill and work on my applications, but sneak out the back door quietly.

  Edge is already waiting for me when I get to the truck.

  It feels good to drive. In Rehoboth Beach, my father’s cottage was down a long dirt road. As soon as we would get to the dirt part, I’d sit on his lap and he’d let me steer. It was the biggest rush, and not unlike what I’m feeling now, especially since my passenger is one of the cutest boys in DC.

  When we get to the freeway, he reaches over and takes my hand. I check my rearview even though now’s not a time for looking back. We’ve got a job ahead of us. A whole future, I hope.

  “So your stepdad turned out to be cool, huh?”

  “Yeah, I feel kind of bad for judging him.”

  “We all do that.”

  “Yeah, I guess. It’s time to do less of that.”

  “Agreed.”

  Edge turns the radio dial. He settles on an urban station and a Rihanna song comes on. I can hear him humming along to it, and it makes me smile in the dark. Whatever is ahead of us is going to be better because we’re together. I’ve never felt this way about a boy before, but I could definitely get used to it.

  14.

  take chances

  The resort is fancy and sprawling, like its own little city nestled in a valley with mountains on either side. We pass the casino, which looks like a giant ski lodge. I follow signs to the main building, park the car, and then Edge and I look at each other. There’s still that spark in his eyes, but I can tell he’s also a little scared. I remember Coach telling me a little bit of fear is good. It keeps you on your toes.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  We get out and start walking to the main entrance.

  “I have a plan,” Edge whispers to me. “Go with it.”

  The front desk is occupied by a man with a doughy face wearing a bow tie. Edge waves at him, and he comes over to us.

  “I can’t remember our room number or even the building, this place is crazy,” Edge says, handing the clerk his ID. “It’s under my mom’s name, Brannon.”

  Mr. Bow Tie smiles and says, “It took me months to find my way around here.” He doesn’t even think twice, drawing us our route with a highlighter on a foldout map of the resort. As we leave, he winks at me. I’m not sure if he’s onto us, or into me. Either one is slightly unsettling.

  By the time we get to his aunt’s room (or technically his mother’s room, since she’s paying for it), it’s almost completely dark out. There’s a maid in her uniform doing turndown service. We watch her enter the room next door to his aunt’s through the rectangle of glass in the stairwell. Edge cracks the stairwell door a little. A toddler runs by and drops his bunny rabbit. He gives us a weird look and points at us.

  “Shoo,” Edge says, and the kid moves on. We’re now holding back laughter.

  “Shoo? He’s not an insect!”

  “Why is he up, and where are his parents?” Edge says.

  The kid runs back into a nearby room, and a woman scolds him.

  We wait, and all I can hear is our breathing. There’s a charge to the air, as if anything could happen at any moment. We are only a few feet from the door. Close enough that when the maid leaves, Edge is able to reach out and catch it right before it shuts. She enters another room, and Edge motions for me to follow him. When we get into the room next to his aunt’s, we start giggling. The air is even more charged now. The guests could come back any minute.

  “I can smell aftershave,” Edge says. “So they probably just left.”

  “What are you, a detective now?”

  “No, but I watch too much Netflix.”

  “Me too.”

  There’s a self-help book on one of the bedside tables called Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus. I pick it up and show it to him.

  “Do you think we’re from different planets?”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  There’s a small chocolate on the pillow in the shape of a bird.

  “Random,” I say, but start peeling away the foil and take a bite. It’s cheap and chalky.

  “Hey! Leave everything as is.”

  I wrap it back up, but it doesn’t look right—one wing is bitten off. I think about the fact that my fingerprints are already on everything.

  “Edge, are you sure you can’t ask your aunt for your mom’s credit card back?”

  “No way. She thinks she’s entitled to it because she helped pay off my mother’s student loans, like, eons ago. But she doesn’t even realize how much she’s spending. Way over what she was owed. It’s an addiction.”

  “Like this?” I say, and start kissing him. I can’t help it. It’s like I’m the girl in the movie now, the one I’d always aspired to be but never thought it was even possible. The confident one. The one who sneaks into empty hotel rooms with a cute boy. I’ve literally been thinking about it all night, sneaking glances at his lips. We make our way to the bed and lie down facing each other. Our eyes barely blink.

  “What’s the plan now?” I ask.

  “You haven’t heard of the patio hop?”

  I giggle. “No.”

  We both turn to lie on our backs, staring at the ceiling. There’s some commotion in the hallway, someone talking loudly in Spanish. This is it, I think, we are totally busted. But then it’s quiet again.

  “Me, either. I made it up.”

  Edge pulls out his phone. He tells me he put his aunt’s iPhone on his Find My Friends app without her knowing by stealing her phone and accepting his own request. There’s a little pulsing blue dot in the next building over.

  “Looks like she’s in the casino. She’s a day drinker and usually doesn’t last t
hat far into the night. It shouldn’t be long.”

  I put my hand inside his shirt. His torso is rigid and smooth. I feel like I’m outside myself, floating above, watching my own life play out. We kiss again. Things start to escalate.

  “Wait,” Edge says, stopping. “I want to do this, but not here.”

  “You’re right,” I say, even though I can’t help feeling a bit disappointed. “Should we wait on the patio?”

  “Good idea.”

  We get up from the bed somewhat awkwardly, and head out the sliding doors. It’s like ten degrees cooler here, and it feels so good compared to the heat of DC. We sit, crouched together under a blanket of blinking stars. Edge keeps checking his phone, and I watch his face light up from the screen each time.

  I must have fallen asleep on Edge’s shoulder, because he wakes me abruptly and says, “We’re on.”

  “What?”

  “She’s coming.” He points over to the next patio. I can see she left her outside door open. “The plan is, I’m going to jump over now, and when she gets in, she’ll most likely plop her purse down and go to the bathroom. That’s my window of time to go get the credit card. I know she keeps it in her wallet.”

  “Is she alone?”

  “Yes. I think so.”

  Something about how Edge has planned this all out and is completely calm makes me like him even more. I may even be in awe of him a little. It seems like the fear I saw in the car is gone, and now he’s in survival mode. I want to kiss him again, but he’s off, jumping from one patio to the other like a trained assassin.

  Her blinds are open, and from where I am, I can make out the back of the hotel room door. I see a quick flash of her face when she enters. Bleached blond hair, blotchy cheeks, and too much eyeliner. She is what Jenna would call a “hot mess.” But I’m not so sure about the hot part.

  She disappears from view, probably into the bathroom. I hold my breath as Edge goes in, and don’t let it out until he’s done. He jumps back over the patio and grabs me. “Got it!” he says proudly. We run out of the neighboring hotel room and down the stairwell.

  Then we cross over to the main building, walking slower so we don’t look suspicious. I text Larry that all is okay and he sends back a winking face emoji.

  We get into the lobby again, and Edge says, “One more thing. Wait here.”

  There are large wooden columns in the lobby, and I stand behind one, close enough to hear what he’s saying. This time it’s another clerk, a girl with a tight ponytail and a thin smile.

  “Hi there,” Edge says. “We actually have to go home early because my mom’s not feeling well. She gave me the credit card and said to check out or whatever.” He hands the girl the credit card and his ID.

  “No problem. We will have to charge you for tonight, however.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll print out your receipt. I’m sorry to hear about your mother. I hope she gets better soon.”

  When we get back into the truck, he says, “Step on it, babe.”

  I smile, thinking, Babe… I like the sound of that.

  * * *

  On the drive home, I see a billboard for what looks like a family resort. There’s an elderly couple holding young children, who are eating ice cream. I ask Edge if he has grandparents.

  “My mom’s dad is in Florida. That’s where she’s going eventually.”

  “Is he cool?”

  “I used to get cards for my birthday, with cash inside, but they would say other things than ‘Happy Birthday’ on them. Like, ‘It’s a Girl’ or ‘Get Well Soon.’”

  “That’s kind of funny.”

  “That’s my grandpa. Anyway, he’s got this whole life down there, and we aren’t really a part of it.”

  “Same as my grandparents on my father’s side. They came to the funeral and then we never heard from them. My mom’s mom is cool, though. She knits me stuff.”

  “What, like mittens?”

  I laugh. “No, like, socks and sweaters.”

  “Do the sweaters have reindeer on them?”

  “No, usually snowflakes.”

  “That’s a little better.”

  “They’re actually pretty cool.”

  As we get closer to the District, I fantasize about pulling over at one of the motels we keep passing. We could have our own room, for a whole night, not some stranger’s hotel room. Besides getting my father back and getting to compete in the Olympics, that would be the next thing I would wish for.

  When I pull up to Toki Underground, there’s a line around the block. Edge turns to me and says, “I’m going to thank you in a big way for this.”

  “A kiss will do,” I say. Our lips touch, and we go back into that elevated state. Lost in the moment. So much so that I’m startled by a security guard shining his flashlight into the truck. He tells me I can’t park here.

  After I turn off the car, Edge says, “I’ve got some extra lawns to mow, and I have to go with my mom to some winery she’s writing about, so I may not be around as much for a bit.”

  There goes my dream of spending the night together. I try to make my face look like I’m not about to cry.

  The guard yells, “Move it!”

  “Tegan, you won’t go breaking and entering without me, will you?” Edge asks with a small smile. But, for the first time, I see real vulnerability in his piercing eyes.

  “Edge, it’s not like I have ten other boys on speed dial. I’ll wait.”

  “Okay, I’ll text you.”

  “I’ll try not to stare at my phone.”

  He smiles, touches my cheek, then gets out of the car.

  Back in my neighborhood, I park the truck a few spaces away from where it was originally parked. It’s midnight, but I can see the Jasons are still up, probably having a dinner party. I can hear music from their piano. I climb up their stoop where I can see in, but they can’t see me. A woman, with her back to the window, is playing a silly song on the piano, something about a girl who was the whole world: her chest was Brazil, her back was Bunker Hill… The Jasons are beaming at her, and the voice sounds familiar. The song is clever and funny, even to me. When she finishes, the Jasons start clapping and yelling, “Bravo!” The woman stands and takes a bow. My mouth drops when I realize who it is. My mother.

  I run across the street and up into our own house. Larry’s in the kitchen, on his iPad this time, but still looking at stocks.

  “You made it home! Good timing. Your mother’s across the street.”

  “I know.”

  I hand him the keys.

  “Did you accomplish your mission?”

  “Yes. Thanks again. It means a lot.”

  He nods like it was nothing. But his face has the satisfaction of having helped someone else. I know that satisfaction. My face must look like that, too.

  “Tell me something, since when does my mom play the piano?”

  “She knows a couple of crowd-pleasers, why?”

  “She’s playing across the street.”

  “Ah, I came home a little early because, the gay-to-straight ratio was…”

  “Nonexistent?”

  He smiles. “Let’s just say there’re a lot of pink shirts and loafers.”

  “Ha.” I know that Larry isn’t homophobic. He couldn’t be if he was with my mom, but I can see how it’s not his scene.

  “Maybe next time you can invite over a bunch of your friends and smoke cigars and like, I don’t know, go hunting.”

  He laughs.

  “I would settle for watching football.”

  “Baby steps,” I say, heading up the stairs.

  In my bed, in the dark, I can still hear my mother singing. Sure, she used to sing me lullabies as a kid, but I never knew she could play the piano like that, let alone entertain a room. For a moment, I got to see
my mother the way the Jasons see her. And it gives me a great feeling. I don’t know what it means exactly, but it feels great.

  15.

  keep me close

  I wake up starving, throw on a T-shirt and my dad’s boxer shorts—I know that seems creepy but it’s not; I wore them before he died, too—and head down to the kitchen. As I’m eating cereal I check my phone. Nothing from Edge. Only a text from Jenna showing me a picture of the room I’ll be staying in. I can’t even think about the trip right now, but I know I should—it’s right around the corner.

  Even though I haven’t seen a name in a while, it doesn’t feel like this is over. It also would be nice to know what it all means.

  After breakfast, I head to my room and start working on my college essay again.

  What makes me unique is swimming. When I’m in the water, it feels like coming home. And I am really fast. When my father died in a helicopter crash, everything changed. I felt suffocated, numb. I wasn’t motivated to do anything. I wanted to crawl into a hole forever. Then, well, something miraculous happened.

  I was chosen.

  I saw signs.

  I saved a life.

  I woke up.

  I met a boy.

  I started to see things differently. People, too.

  I know my father is with me, and that there are things I must do.

  There’s a knock at my door. I minimize the file and say, “Come in.”

  It’s my mother. She’s holding a small box.

  “I kept this for you, and I think it’s time you had it,” she says, putting it on my bed.

  “What is it?”

  “Some things your father had saved.”

  She hugs me, and I welcome it. I even squeeze her back. She looks at me with tears in her eyes and says, “You’re so extraordinary, Tegan, you know that? You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re—”

  “What’s going on, Mom? You’re not sick, are you? That tumor really is benign, right?”

  “Yes! I just heard your father’s and my song. I’m a little emotional.”

  “Oh.”

  “You’re the only one left that connects me to him.”