Running Lean

by Diana L. Sharples

  Why did I let Zoe talk me into calling Noah?

  Her entire life as she knew it was over. Going home again was out of the question. She’d have to drop out of school and find some halfway house in Raleigh—no, farther away, maybe Charlotte or Atlanta—where she could stay until she found a job waitressing or working in a factory. Bye-bye, fashion design school. Bye-bye, Calvin, forever.

  Stacey looked out the side window to hide her trembling lower lip from Zoe.

  Stuart Somebody pulled off the highway on Highway 301. They passed gas stations, fast food places, and a grocery store, then turned off that road into an apartment complex. Cars in the parking lot ranged from late model to old junkers, and beach towels and sports banners hung over some second-floor balcony railings. This had to be college housing. But which college? Stacey couldn’t think.

  Stuart parked in front of one of the buildings. Stacey’s mind raced to find an excuse for staying in the car. Sick? No, Zoe wouldn’t buy it. With a deep breath, she climbed out and followed the guys toward the building.

  Zoe grabbed her arm and pressed close. “I’m gonna get me a hot college guy.”

  Sure you are … for one whole night. This is crazy. We shouldn’t be here. Stacey slowed her steps with Zoe still clinging to her arm. Her body begged her to stop.

  “Don’t you back out now.” Zoe’s whisper turned dark. “You better not be thinking about that farm boy.”

  Stacey jerked her arm away. “His name is Calvin.”

  “I know his stupid name! Come on, don’t ruin this. Just be cool and have some fun. Tomorrow you can think about Calvin all you want.”

  Noah and Stuart led them up an outdoor stairway. Stacey’s feet felt like cement bricks with each step. Stuart tapped on the door of a second-floor apartment, but opened it himself. Someone shouted a greeting. Five people sat on a garage-sale sofa and two plastic lawn chairs clustered near a blaring television. The air smelled like beer and cat litter, and Stacey wished for a hazmat suit.

  A scruffy-haired, bearded college guy came out of the kitchen and grabbed Noah in a one-armed embrace, followed by a knuckle rap with Stuart. He pointed at Stacey and Zoe with his chin.

  “Who’re your friends?”

  Noah draped his arm over Stacey’s shoulders. “This is Stacey, and that’s Zoe. Girls, this is my brother, Nathan. And these other people are … uh, I don’t know everyone here. I know Darla, of course.” He pointed to someone on the couch.

  “People from class,” Nathan said. “We were studying earlier.”

  “Y’all have to take summer school?” Zoe asked.

  Way to show you’re still in high school, ditz. College offers summer courses.

  Still, if they were studying, maybe these people would be okay. This was the bohemian lifestyle Stacey could look forward to at fashion design school—minus the beer and cat stink. And if she wasn’t grounded forever and forced to put off college completely.

  Noah’s musky scent washed over her, a relief from the other smells. His velvety voice made her catch her breath, his sapphire eyes demanded that she look nowhere else. But when his fingers massaged her shoulder, laying claim to her, she inched away.

  Zoe strutted into the living room. Stacey followed, moving away from Noah, and glanced at the television. ESPN logo, clips from baseball games. Stacey squeezed onto the end of the tattered plaid sofa and said hi to a girl with short brown hair.

  The girl sipped from a can of beer then set it on the glass-topped coffee table. Dirty rings marked resting places of many cans before it. “Hey, I’m Darla. You’re here with Noah?”

  “Um, well, yeah. Kind of.”

  Darla laughed softly. “Kind of?”

  “We’re just friends.”

  “Really? ‘Cause Noah doesn’t have any girl friends. Just girlfriends, if you get me.”

  “I get you.”

  “I mean, he’s a really sweet guy. Just scattered. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the one to help him settle down.”

  “Doubt it,” Stacey mumbled.

  “Just don’t make him jealous. He can’t handle it. He gets a little weird.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  No one bothered to introduce the other people. Stacey wouldn’t have remembered their names anyway. Finally Noah sauntered over, and Darla got up to make space on the sofa for him to slide down beside Stacey. He draped his arm on the back of the couch, his hand touching her shoulder, and took a long swig from his own can of beer. “Want one?”

  Underage drinking. Forget grounding; Daddy would simply shoot her.

  “I’m not thirsty.”

  As Noah carried on a conversation with someone else, his fingers traced Stacey’s contours. He played with the collar of her hoodie, tickled the side of her neck, and drew curving shapes on her upper arm. Wanting to be subtle in the crowded room, Stacey reached up to brush back her hair while trying to push his hand aside. He misinterpreted the move, caught her fingers in his, and slanted a sexy smile at her.

  Stacey shrank deeper into the sofa, wishing she could melt into the scratchy upholstery. She managed to reclaim her fingers and clasped both hands in her lap.

  Where is Zoe?

  Darla and Nathan leaned against a wall by the kitchen entrance, kissing and fondling. Stacey tried to watch the television but her eyes kept drifting back to the couple. Her racing heart sent a tightness to her throat she couldn’t swallow down.

  Zoe came out of the kitchen, laughing and flipping her hair. Just behind her was a bearded guy wearing a knit cap. At least a foot taller than her. Zoe had found her college guy, although he was anything but hot. She’d also found the beer.

  A montage of baseball bloopers on TV had the others laughing. A player slid on the outfield grass and ended up in a split, which prompted a loud “Oh!” from every guy in the apartment. Stacey watched and tried to relax. Yet the beer-tainted air was too heavy to breathe.

  Okay, so a few people were drinking, and one couple got a little frisky in public view. It wasn’t anything terrible. Maybe she just needed some fresh air to settle her nerves.

  Stacey eased off the couch and picked her way through the room to a sliding glass door. It was locked, and the latch wouldn’t cooperate with her fumbling fingers. When at last she figured it out, she flung the door open harder than she’d intended.

  People stopped talking and stared.

  Now completely unable to breathe, Stacey shot forward. She grabbed the balcony rail and sucked in humid air, ignoring the wood splinters poking her palms. The ground below seemed to vibrate, moving toward her then receding.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” Noah asked.

  She refused to look at him even when he rested a hand on her waist and tried to turn her toward him.

  “I … I’m scared.”

  “Of what? Your parents?”

  She’d told him just enough to explain why she was away from home without her purse or car. At one statement, “My parents are driving me insane,” Noah had nodded in complete understanding.

  “What am I doing here? Noah, I already have a boyfriend.”

  “So where is he?”

  “Huh?”

  She glanced at him, expecting to find jealousy in his eyes. Instead a sly smile touched his perfect lips, like he was about to reveal a secret. Why did he have to be so cute?

  “You called me,” he said. “Why not him?”

  “B-because he wasn’t home.”

  “So you’re cheating on him?”

  “No. My father said he couldn’t—uh …” Why is this happening to me?

  Stacey looked back into the living room. Zoe and that other guy had taken her spot on the couch, sitting too close for two people who’d just met.

  “You called me,” Noah repeated, edging closer. “I figured that meant something.”

  “I-I like you, Noah. But—”

  The smile turned to a boyish pout. “So you used me to get away from your parents. ‘Cause that other guy wasn’t around.”
/>   “No. I mean—”

  Noah swore softly and stepped away from her. “That’s great, Stacey. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Can’t we just be friends?”

  He leaned into the corner of the balcony railing and crossed his ankles. “Maybe I don’t want to be just friends.”

  Stacey pressed a hand to her forehead and found it clammy. Dizziness threatened again. Her stomach was an open pit swirling with acid. Not again. Please.

  “Noah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “To what? Use me?”

  “C-can we just sit down?” She swayed.

  “Whoa, hey. You okay?” He came away from the rail and clasped her arm, steadying her.

  “I need to eat. Can I have some bread or something?”

  “Bread? Uh, sure. Nathan’s got salsa and chips in the kitchen.”

  When had she last allowed anything to stay in her stomach, other than water? She couldn’t remember. She needed bread, bland and dense, that would sit in her stomach and suck up all the acid. A single slice would do.

  Noah led her to the kitchen and pointed to a picked-over bowl of chunky salsa and an almost-empty bag of tortilla chips. “There’s that. And the beer. Anything else … look around.” He abruptly turned and left her standing there.

  She couldn’t blame him for being angry. It was her fault for letting Zoe talk her into calling him. Sure, Daddy wouldn’t be able to find her, but now she was stuck. She glanced around the room for a phone. Nothing but dirty dishes, beer, and the salsa.

  No salsa—that would burn. And who knew who had been double-dipping in the stuff? Stacey reached for the refrigerator handle. Something sticky made it hard to open—or maybe she was so weak that a stupid refrigerator door taxed her.

  The door made a sucking noise as it opened, and the moment the refrigerator light spilled out, Zoe was beside Stacey.

  “What are you doing?” Zoe’s glare was like a storm cloud dragged into the kitchen. “What did you say to Noah?”

  Stacey didn’t want to discuss it.

  Before her sat carryout containers, cans of soda, and lunchmeat with dried and curled edges. Beyond nasty. And no bread. Maybe they kept it in a cabinet … which meant it was probably moldy. Stacey gagged.

  “Zoe, are you still dieting?”

  “Yeah. Are you cheating on yours?”

  Stacey slammed the refrigerator door. “Well, stop. It’ll make you sick.”

  “No it won’t. You just have to follow the plan. But forget that. What did you do to Noah? He flew out of here spitting words I’m sure you don’t want me to repeat.”

  “He can’t handle jealousy. Can I borrow your cell phone?”

  Zoe rammed her fists onto her hips. “Why?”

  “To call for pizza,” Stacey snapped. “There’s nothing to eat here.”

  “You’re not calling for pizza, you’re fixing to call Calvin.”

  “So what if I do? Just because you and Noah can’t handle the fact that I have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m going to change the way I feel.”

  Zoe spat out her own choice words.

  “Just let me use the phone. Please?”

  “No. You’re going to ask Calvin to come get you. Why can’t you just have some fun? Why does everything have to be about stupid Calvin?”

  “You can stay. I don’t care. Go talk to Noah.”

  “You’re throwing away that gorgeous guy for some dumpy farm boy. I told you before, Stacey, you stay with Calvin, you’ll end up married and fat with a pack of babies hanging all over you.”

  Nathan came into the kitchen, his thick eyebrows raised. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  Stacey ignored him. “Maybe I want to marry Calvin and have babies with him.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Maybe I don’t want to go to fashion design school. Maybe I really want to draw and paint and put my artwork in museums.”

  “You did not just say that.”

  Nathan put both arms between them and nudged them apart. “Okay, the two of you brought way too much drama into my place. Back off, ladies.”

  Zoe shifted over so she could still glare at Stacey. “Fine. I’ll just go tell Noah he better stay away from you.”

  “Go. I don’t care.”

  “And I am not going to California or New York with you.”

  Stacey shrugged. “I didn’t want to go anyway.”

  A vile name flew out of Zoe’s mouth as she whirled away with her palms raised.

  Stacey sniffed. Every part of her trembled. She realized Nathan still stood there, looking down at her.

  “So, I guess you’re not really my little brother’s new girlfriend,” he said.

  That made her want to laugh. She shook her head instead. Nathan pursed his lips for a moment. “He’ll get over it. He always does.”

  Stacey shook her hair away from her face. “Where is he? I’ll talk to him.”

  “Bedroom or bathroom. I saw him go into the hallway.”

  Two places she really didn’t want to be alone with Noah Dickerson. Oh well. She’d just apologize nicely and ask him to take her home. It might not be a fun drive, and there’d be a bigger problem waiting at home, but at least she could put this night behind her.

  Stacey left the kitchen and turned down a short hallway. The first door she found was closed, while the other opened to a surprisingly neat bedroom with a large bed. A cell phone sat on the nightstand, plugged into its charger. Stacey glanced over her shoulder then strode across the room to pick up the phone. She loosed it from the charger and turned it on.

  “What are you doing?”

  She spun to face Noah, hiding the phone behind her back. “I was looking for you.”

  “In here? Did you change your mind?” He stepped closer.

  “Oh!” She slipped the phone into her hoodie pocket and put both hands up to ward him off. “No. I mean—”

  He frowned and stopped short. “Zoe’s out on the balcony cursing the birds. You’re having a pretty good night, aren’t you? I mean, if you planned to alienate all your friends.”

  “I’m sorry, Noah. I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

  “Sure you did—that’s how you get your way. That’s how all girls get their way. It’s cool. I get it. Maybe I should be glad you told me so soon.”

  “Noah—”

  “Thing is, I usually get something in return. You know?”

  “Don’t. Please.”

  “Come on, Stacey. You wanted to do something tonight so you wouldn’t have to deal with your parents. And you called me.” He shrugged one shoulder and edged closer. “It’s okay. I won’t force you into anything.”

  “Thank you.”

  “One little kiss, though? Your other boyfriend will never know about it.” He managed to get an arm past her barrier.

  Stacey planted her hands against his shoulder and chest. “Noah, no.”

  He broke through her defense with little effort, and roughly pulled her next to him and covered her open mouth with his. She tasted the beer he’d been drinking. The bedroom swayed as her joints turned to mush. This wasn’t romance; it wasn’t even lust. If Noah’s arms weren’t holding her, she’d tumble to the floor.

  And someone would call 9-1-1.

  Stacey struggled to keep herself alert as she fought Noah off. Her teeth scraped the top of his tongue. He grunted and shoved her away.

  “That hurt!” Noah pressed his hand to his mouth then pulled it away. Blood tinged his skin. “What is your problem, woman?”

  She ran. Someone in the living room bellowed a protest, and she heard Zoe call her name. Stacey hit the door with both hands and found the knob. Everything looked fuzzy as she lurched toward the steps. Hands alternately clasping and flying over the stair rail, she stumbled down two flights.

  A voice from above yelled something, and another person’s laughter followed.

  Stacey staggered into the parking lot. Woods to the left made it too dark to see any kind of path.
What happened to the daylight? She collided with a dumpster. Should’ve smelled it coming. She pinched her nose and felt her way around the side.

  Rats. There would be rats. And a billion gazillion germs.

  She squealed and pushed away. Streetlamp light glinted off parked cars, giving her something to aim for. She waded through the narrow space between the bumpers and a hedge until something metal bashed her shin and pitched her forward. Stacey collapsed to the asphalt, curled up, and grabbed her lower leg. Something wet and hot oozed between her fingers.

  She held her breath so she wouldn’t scream.

  Chapter 36

  Calvin moved slowly, the cup of hot chocolate in his hands filled almost to the brim. He eased the mug down near the computer keyboard, an act that would have drawn a reprimand if his family wasn’t at church. He settled into the chair, turned on the computer, and sipped while the computer booted up. The hot chocolate soothed his raw throat.

  Scamp squeezed under the desk and lay down, his warm fur tickling Calvin’s toes.

  Desperate for anything to take his mind off Stacey, Calvin went to his Facebook page. A message and three notifications waited for him, but his eyes drifted down the page to the spot that stated “In a relationship with Stacey Varnell.” He couldn’t change it last week, making the breakup official for all his 216 Internet friends to see.

  Single.

  Calvin’s throat and chest constricted around the weight of that word.

  Had Stacey changed her relationship status? He went to her page, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Her profile photo arrested his eyes. Taken from a downward angle before she’d put the pink streaks in her hair, her cheek pressed against his, her eyes sultry and her lips puckered, like she was about to kiss him. Which she had after the shot. A silly, happy moment in time when things were normal between them.

  Beneath her picture, her relationship status still listed his name.