A laugh escapes me just as the doorbell rings.
“That must be him,” my mom says. I dress quickly, and we follow her down the hall and past the kitchen. She walks briskly to the front door and unlocks the handle.
When the door opens, I do a double take because standing on the porch isn’t the boy I remember from the Christmas card a few years back. In his place is a tall man who looks about my age, maybe a few years older. My skin tingles when I take in his dark hair, stark blue eyes and strong, elegant jaw lined with stubble.
“Theo!” My mom exclaims. “You’re here. My daughter is going to give you a ride to school.”
Theo smiles at her, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I have to go to bed, but I wanted to introduce you to Willow first.” My mom yawns and stretches before shuffling down the hallway. “Text me if you need anything, and I’ll read it as soon as I’m up.”
We all watch her disappear down the hall. When her bedroom door closes, Theo glances at Ash. My mom never actually pointed me out as her daughter, so Theo probably assumes by Ash’s resemblance to my mom that she’s me.
“I’m Willow,” I preemptively clarify. Theo frowns at me as soon as I speak, and there’s a beat of awkward silence. His eyes are startling, pale blue without flecks interrupting the color’s steady consistency. There’s a subtle dimple in his chin beneath the stubble, and his dark hair is thick, professionally cut and only long enough on top to reveal its wavy texture. Though he’s tall and slender, I notice the bulge of muscle on his arms beneath his green long-sleeved shirt.
“So, I take it you need a ride,” Ash says, breaking the ice. The way she says it makes me blush. There’s clearly a double meaning in her words. “Your car didn’t make the trip here?”
Theo arches an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, vehicles don’t make great carry-ons.” He smirks. “Not to mention, everyone in London either walks or rides the tube.” His voice is deep and indifferent, yet surprisingly soft and thick with a British accent.
Ash snorts. “As much as I’d like to ride shotgun, you’re way too tall to sit in the back of Willow’s Bug. And I don’t do back seats.” She pauses, reconsidering her words. “Well, not as a passenger, that is. If you know what I mean.”
I blink in confusion when she makes for the front door. “Wait, where are you going?”
“See you there, babe,” she tells me nonchalantly, ignoring the murderous glare I send her way.
There’s no way Ash is going to leave me alone to carpool with a total stranger on our first day of school. She wouldn’t.
I watch in complete and utter disbelief as she actually leaves. It takes me a moment to turn back around, and when I do, I stare at Theo blankly, at a total loss for words.
His lips twitch with the effort not to laugh, though I can’t imagine what he possibly finds humorous about this situation. “Shall we?” he asks wryly. “I hear this school has a rather strict late policy.”
“Very strict,” I snap. “And if I get in trouble, I’m blaming it on you.” I grind my teeth. This entire morning has already fallen apart. The rest of the day isn’t looking good at this rate. And all because of my mom, infringing on my carefully structured plans.
“Is that so?” he says with raised brows, amusement in his voice. “And why me?”
“Because you are a last-minute change of plans.” I snap, knowing that if my mom heard me, I’d be in a world of trouble. I turn to him, ready to take it back and apologize, but stop at his expression.
Theo’s mouth is in a half-grin. “I am known for my impeccable timing.”
I watch him walk out the door, unable to think of a response.
We get inside Mitten Chip. Theo’s head almost touches the top of the car, just as Ash predicted.
There are several moments of complete silence as I start the car and drive. I’m filled with dread knowing I’m really going to have to sit here with him and make small talk the entire fifteen minutes to school. I hardly know anything about him. For all I know, Theo could be a serial killer. I can’t believe my mom let him move in.
Tapping the steering wheel to ease some of my anxiety, I wrack my brain for something to say, anything to eliminate the painful silence. “So, how are you liking America?”
“Well,” says Theo. “I haven’t been here long, but my expectations are high.”
“Really?” I ask. “Why?”
He smiles blandly at me. “Haven’t you heard? It’s the land of opportunity.”
I exhale a reluctant laugh. “So they say.”
It’s already starting to get warm outside. I consider rolling the windows down but doing so will probably cause my hair to dry even frizzier. I play with the lanyard dangling from my keys. It’s Harry Potter themed, sporting my Hogwarts house, Ravenclaw.
Theo glances at my nervous hands playing with the lanyard. “You like Harry Potter?”
I flick my eyes at him. “Like is such an understatement.”
He chuckles. “Really?” It sounds like a challenge. “Have you read the books?”
“Yep. I’m currently reading the series for the seventeenth time.”
Theo gives me a withering look. “Right.”
I frown. “Right, what?”
“You haven’t read the series sixteen-going-on-seventeen times.”
“You don’t believe me?”
He arches one of his brows at me. “It’s a bit hard to believe that someone like you would spend so much time reading.”
My body tenses. “Someone like me?” I demand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
My first thought is that he’s making some kind of crack at my intelligence level, but then I notice the way he’s taking me in slowly. From top to bottom. He presses his lips together. “I think you know what I mean.”
A flush creeps across my entire face, and I try to find a way to change the subject. “What—what Hogwarts house are you in?” I sputter.
Theo’s lips twitch, and he half-shrugs. “Hufflepuff? Gryffindor? To be honest, I’m not quite sure.”
“Probably Slytherin,” I suggest, shrugging innocently.
Theo’s mouth falls open. He presses his hand to his chest. “I can’t believe you’d assume such a thing,” he says, sounding not at all indignant. “And either you’ve chosen the wrong colors, or you’re a Ravenclaw.” He nods toward my lanyard, and I have to admit that I’m surprised he even knows that much.
“I am. You know what they say. ‘Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.’”
Theo attempts to disguise his laugh as a cough. He probably thinks I’m a complete dork, which is totally fine with me. Anyone who thinks someone attractive wouldn’t bother reading books isn’t worth my time anyway.
Theo examines his fingernails. “Why did your friend lie about hating the back seat?”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s referring to Ash. I clear my throat. “She wasn't lying. She really does hate sitting in the back. She would kill me for telling you this, but she gets carsick.” Theo doesn’t react, so I add, “And we’re cousins.”
That gets his attention. He turns to look at me, his brow furrowed. I’m used to the surprised or even confounded expressions that people wear every time they discover my relation to Ash, but what interests me is that Theo doesn’t exclaim the almost guaranteed follow up statement: “But you’re black!”
As if I’m unaware.
“Our moms are sisters,” I tell him, though he didn’t ask. “And I’m half black, from my dad’s side.”
Theo says something just as a cat runs across the road, and I slam on my brakes. Missing its death by a hair, the cat darts away, unscathed. I take a steadying breath to calm myself.
“Stupid animal,” I gasp. “I don’t even like cats. I should have run the damn thing over.” My voice is weak. I feel like I’m going to faint. None of this would have happened if my mom hadn’t infringed on the order of the day.
Theo laughs unsteadily. “I’m sure
it’s much obliged.”
“Shut up.” My heart is racing. Though I’m trying desperately, I can’t calm myself. I’m breathing hard like the oxygen I’m inhaling isn’t working.
“Me? I’m not the one with the tapping problem,” Theo comments, oblivious to the heavy panic sloshing in my veins. “This isn’t a musical. We don’t need a constant beat.”
My cheeks burn. If I were more self-aware, I would have tried to hide the tapping, or made it subtler somehow. But some rituals are so ingrained that I don’t even notice when I perform them. And I definitely didn’t realize how much I was tapping.
“But I’ve hardly said a word. You’re the one who won’t stop talking,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You’re doing it again. You’re tapping right now,” he says cheerfully, flustering me beyond belief.
“I’m going to leave you on the side of the road if you don’t shut up,” I warn him.
He laughs. “I could probably walk faster than you’re driving.”
“I almost hit a cat! What do you expect?” My hand twitches. I want to smack that unperturbed, mildly entertained look right off his face.
“Relax, love.” He reclines his seat, resting his arms behind his head and shutting his eyes. “Untie your knickers.” He speaks with the kind of confidence I’ve never known. As if there’s nowhere this conversation could take him that would make him uncomfortable.
I wonder if he would continue to treat my stress with such irreverence if he knew how impossible it is for me to truly relax. But there’s no way I’m going to fill him in. I hate telling people I have OCD, because they always feel the need to reciprocate by saying they do too. A lot of people assume that having OCD means liking things organized or hating germs. It tends to be treated like a quirk or an endearing trait. But it’s so much more than that. It’s the one thing that prohibits me from being free of myself.
So instead I say, “Believe me, if I could I would.”
There must be something of my inner turmoil in my voice because Theo doesn’t come back with something witty or smart-assed to say. He only opens his eyes to stare at me for a brief moment before glancing away.
The school building looms in front of us on the street, and anxiety enters my veins yet again. Theo sighs deeply, his eyes still closed. Even in his relaxed position, he somehow looks troubled, and I wonder for the first time if maybe he feels it too. If maybe, like me, he isn’t a stranger to the feelings that linger after the horrors of the past. If he too feels that those horrors hold no fault in anyone but himself.
Two
Ash is waiting for us in the parking lot. She marches over to my car as soon as we park and grabs my hand when I get out. "Come on," she says. "I want to find Joseph. I’m pretty sure his statistics class doesn’t start for another half hour."
I glare at Ash, but she smiles back at me with faux innocence, as if she didn’t abandon me. Especially to someone as insufferable as Theo. I can’t help but glance over my shoulder to look at him.
“Thanks for the ride, love,” Theo says, displaying a wide grin. As he passes me, he pats me on the head like I’m some sort of pet. I try not to let the gesture get under my skin, but irritation is already clinging to me like a wet blanket.
As soon as he walks away, I frown at my cousin. “I can’t believe you left me alone with him!”
She has the nerve to laugh. “Calm down, babe.”
“You wouldn’t have gotten that car sick if you’d come along and sat in the back! Besides, I bet Theo wouldn’t have minded giving you shotgun.”
She laughs. “Please tell me you aren’t complaining about being alone with him. He’s hot!”
“I don’t care,” I practically yell. “Don’t you ever do that to me again!”
“Do what?” She holds up her hands.
“Throw a curveball at me like that!”
Ash rolls her eyes. “Fine. Sorry, babe.” She is so not sorry. The smile she presses between her lips proves it.
“Do we even have time to look for Joseph right now?” I cross my arms.
The parking lot is practically full at this point. Cars are circling around, trying to find a spot, and several have already paused near me and Ash, probably hoping we’re about to leave so they can snag mine.
“We have plenty of time,” she says. “Let’s go.”
Plenty of time.
A completely ridiculous concept.
Every second that passes leaves us with less time than before.
Eventually, we’ll completely run out.
Just the thought of it makes me feel like there are hands wrapped around my throat. I try to focus on something else, anything else, but now that time passing is at the forefront of my attention, it’s all I can think about.
I feel compelled to tap because somehow doing so feels like I’m setting things right. So I tap my fingers against the side of my leg like I did on the steering wheel of my car on the way here. I tap until my anxiety doesn’t suffocate me anymore.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Repeatedly, even as we walk toward the opposite end of campus to look for Joseph, Ash's on-and-off friend-with-benefits. They recently became off during her trip to Hawaii, but I’m sure they'll be back on now that she’s returned.
I trail behind Ash reluctantly. We’re only halfway there and once we get to his classroom, he might not even be there yet. Even Ash seems to be losing momentum, her stride slowing with each step away from our side of campus.
“Let’s just go back. Otherwise we’ll be late,” I say. “We can find him later.”
Ash exhales sharply. I wonder if she expected his classroom to be closer. “Fine.” She runs a hand through her blond hair, eyes darting around wildly as if hoping to catch him at the last second.
We make our way back to our side of campus. The cosmetology building is the largest department by far. The tall building looms in front of us the closer we get, and the floor-to-ceiling glass windows reflect the sun like diamonds.
When we reach the doors, a hollow feeling invades my stomach. Ash and I have wanted to be hairstylists our entire lives, so it’s hard to believe the start of our journey is today. There’s a sudden shakiness in my limbs. The possibility of all the ways the day could go wrong nearly sends me running. Especially since we already started off the day unplanned. As if Ash can sense my apprehension, she narrows her eyes at me and threads her arm in mine, leading us inside.
The walls are painted a cool gray, and the smell of hair products wafts through the room. The front desk at the entrance displays a selection of hard plastic nametags. I quickly find the nametags labeled Willow B. and Ashton M. and we fasten them to our shirts.
The chatter of students fills the room, sending my stomach plummeting as we turn the corner. There are girls everywhere, mostly our age, but some that look a bit older than the rest. There seem to be only three males, including Theo. He’s talking to the instructor, Mrs. Harrison, who I recognize from her picture in the introductory pamphlet.
The desks are large, and one girl opens the top of hers like the hood of a car, or the lid of a piano, to reveal an area to keep cosmetology tools. The room has a traditional classroom setup, aside from the twelve hair dryers and six shampoo bowls lining the walls. The numbers in this room drive me crazy, because they’re all even. I hate even numbers because none of them have a middle, a center.
Twelve hair dryers.
Six shampoo bowls.
Twelve.
Six.
I discreetly tap five times to make it better, because five is an odd number.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
I exhale slowly to relieve the tightness in my chest.
I glance around the room. The class is mostly seated now, apart from a few girls nervously scanning the now-packed aisles. Mrs. Harrison turns away from Theo to write her name on the board. Her hair is golden blond and cut into a sharp bob, and though her face is lined with age, her eyes are alert and darting. The
room echoes the hushed conversations of the girls around us, and I try to look inconspicuous as we find seats near the middle of the room.
“Damn, girl. That’s a tight romper,” snickers the girl sitting behind us.
I glance at Ash, realizing with dawning horror that the girl is talking about her.
Ash catches on much more quickly than I do, turning around and smiling at the girl. "Is that a problem?"
"Ash," I whisper. “Just let it go.” This poor girl has no idea who she’s messing with. Ash has never lost a fight in her entire life. I would know, because I’ve been the one to soften the blow for her mom every time she got suspended in high school for breaking someone’s face. If we get kicked out today, there’s no way we’ll be allowed back. Considering how strict this school is when it comes to things like tardiness and the dress code, I doubt they’ll be lenient if Ash gets in a fistfight on the very first day.
"No," the girl replies, clearly surprised at being confronted. She holds up her hands. I glance at her nametag. Destiny L. "No, girl. You work it!” She smiles like she’s joking, but there’s a sour edge to her voice. “How much do you charge for an hour? Or ... is it free?"
My mouth falls open. Destiny’s brashness is more than I know how to handle. I can’t believe she would say something so rude to a complete stranger.
Ash's smile widens, but her eyes are hard as stone. That smile is more dangerous than any other expression she could make. This is a disaster waiting to happen. I belatedly realize we have attracted the attention of some of the girls sitting around us.
Ash uncrosses her legs, leaning in toward Destiny. "That depends...” she says, her voice low. “How much are you willing to pay for that comment?"
I knew giving Theo a ride to school would mess with the order of the entire day. That’s the only explanation for something like this happening, and I need to fix it. I must correct the situation, and somehow save us.
One Carefree Day Page 2