by Debra Doxer
A handful of carrot sticks came flying at his head from across the table, and he shifted to the side, easily avoiding them. “Temper, Parker,” he warned with a smirk before taking a swig of water.
Parker scowled. “You’re such an ass.”
Jonah’s expression never changed as he put down his drink.
Malcolm turned to me. “Are you going, Candy?” He glanced at Parker. “You invited her, right?”
“Malcolm, may I remind you that you have a girlfriend. But yes, she’s invited. And news flash, your friends aren’t. Now I need more carrots.” She pushed back from the table, grabbed her wallet from her bag, and headed for the salad bar at the front.
“That was dramatic,” Lea muttered.
Malcolm frowned, his face growing red, while Ethan laughed. Jonah bit into his sandwich, ignoring everyone while I sat there silently amused.
Once Parker was gone, Ashley stood. “She’s such an easy target for you. It’s like you enjoy rubbing her feelings in her face,” she spat out, then flounced away to join Parker in line.
“Are you girls all on your periods today?” Ethan called after her. That comment made Lea scowl, and I could sense her debating whether she wanted to stay.
I sighed, pretending to be annoyed despite how utterly entertained I was. But I knew the right move here was to show solidarity with the girls.
“Well, this has been fun.” When I stood, Lea made her decision and stood too. “Way to clear a table, guys,” I said over my shoulder on the way out.
Lea sidled up beside me as we walked. “Poor Parker. Jonah doesn’t have to be such a jerk.”
“Why is he like that?” I asked, even though I thought Parker’s reaction to his comment was completely overblown.
She shrugged. “I assume it’s because no one ever turned Parker down before and she doesn’t know when to give up. He could be a little nicer, though. Oh, hey,” she said, grabbing my arm. “I heard you used to live next door to Malcolm.”
I nodded.
“He’s cute in a teddy-bear kind of way and I think he likes you. I wonder if he’d drop his girlfriend for you. She’s so weird.”
I stopped beside my locker. The news Malcolm had a girlfriend had surprised me at lunch when Parker said it, and made his attention highly unwelcome. “Who’s his girlfriend?”
“Marta Gould. Remember her? She was always kind of a nerd and now she’s a nerd and a semi-Goth. She’s a Noth!” Lea laughed at her own joke. “Marta has last lunch, so she doesn’t sit with us.” I heard the implied thank God at the end of her sentence.
“Well, I’m not interested in Malcolm, and it’s not cool if he forgets his girlfriend when I’m in the room. You can tell him I said that.”
“Okaaay . . .” Lea eyed me curiously, obviously not expecting me to be so irritated. “Candy and Malcolm. Not gonna happen. Got it. Hey, let’s go to the mall on Saturday and get new outfits for the party.”
“Sure.” I shrugged, feeling the tension in my shoulders loosen. I liked Lea, but I didn’t like Malcolm so much anymore, and I hated the tinge of disappointment I felt. I would have thought he’d be one of the good ones, but obviously I was wrong.
During last period calculus, I saw Jonah again. I arrived first, and when he entered the room, he acknowledged me with a nod before sitting down. I was determined not to let my attention drift to him throughout class, but I could have sworn I caught him looking at me a few times from the corner of my eye.
When class ended, he stood by my desk and asked, “Why did Harris keep you after class this morning?”
I blinked, a little thrown that Jonah had spoken an entire sentence to me, a strange one at that. It was odd that he’d remembered and then bothered to ask about it.
Pushing up from the chair, I got out on the other side, keeping my desk between us. I wouldn’t let it show, but my stomach did an uneasy flip when his attention was on me.
“Nothing major.” I shrugged and moved down the aisle.
“If it’s nothing major, then you can tell me.” He followed until he was parallel with me again.
I was about to tell him it was none of his business, or better yet, make a joke, a flirty comment about him being overly interested in my life, but his expression was so unflinchingly serious that I swallowed back the words. For some reason, he really wanted to know, and I found myself telling him.
“He asked if I was interested in tutoring.”
“Are you?”
I nodded.
He studied me for what became an uncomfortable moment. Before he turned away, I caught the beginning of a scowl on his face.
“Hey!” I called to him when he began to walk away. “Why did you ask?”
Jonah shrugged. “I’m a curious guy. See ya, Seaborne.”
I shook my head at his flip answer. Why the hell had he asked? And why had his expression made my answer seem so important? It wasn’t like he was interested in me. If he were, he’d ask if I was busy this weekend or be a little flirty, not ask what Harris wanted to see me about. And why couldn’t he use my first name? I didn’t even know what his last name was.
In that moment, I finally understood Parker’s frustration with him, and I didn’t like that he’d made me feel the same way. Not one little bit.
When I walked inside the house, my father was there in the living room waiting for me again. I stiffened, wondering what he wanted this time. I’d already explained about Kristen. I hoped he wasn’t about to say that the police wanted to talk to me about her.
“How was school?” he asked with a half smile.
I relaxed slightly. Last time he was all business the moment he saw me. “Good.”
He nodded. “You’re a good student, Candy. You get good grades. I got a look at your transcript when they transferred it over. There was a section on it tracking colleges you’d applied to. Yours was blank, and there aren’t any college applications in your room. Shouldn’t you be filling those out by now?”
My eyes widened. “You looked through my room?”
“Don’t use that tone with me. This is my house. I’ll go where I please.”
“But . . . ,” I sputtered. Did he really not get it?
He remained unfazed. “Relax. You didn’t have anything in there to be concerned about.”
“That’s not the point,” I snapped.
He leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. “You’re right. The point is college. Now sit down.”
Not moving, I hardly knew which issue to tackle first—the fact that I should be able to expect some privacy in my room, or the fact that I didn’t want to go to college.
“Candy.” His voice was firm as he eyed the couch.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I plopped down onto the cushion like an irate five-year-old.
“College applications,” he said evenly, waiting for me to answer.
“It’s too early to be worrying about those. I’ve got time.” I knew I should tell him my plans, but I was nervous. This was a conversation I’d hoped to build up to and practice a few times first. My father wasn’t exactly the easiest person to talk to.
“You don’t have time. You need to get on top of it.” His eyes were steady on me, hardly even blinking.
“Where is this coming from all of a sudden? This is the first time you’ve even mentioned college.”
His lips pressed together, the only sign he was losing patience. “It’s time to apply to colleges now. So I’m asking you now.”
I pulled in a deep breath, readying myself. “I don’t want to go to college. I want to do what you do.”
Then I waited, but he said nothing. He didn’t blink or move a muscle. After several heavy, silent, excruciating moments, his nostrils flared and his eyes chilled.
“You want to do what I do. What do you think I do?”
My breathing went shallow at the low, even tone of his voice. “I know what you do.”
He leaned away from me. “You know,” he echoed. “Then tell me.”
Did he really believe I didn’t know, or was he daring me to say it out loud? I’d have had to been born deaf not to know.
“I heard you talking to Mom when you thought I was asleep. I heard the things that woman said to you when she came here that night. I know.”
His lips twisted and his eyes snapped with anger. “Say it then.”
Swallowing hard, I hesitated. I might have overheard things, but what my father did had never been openly acknowledged inside this house. “You kill people.”
Cold eyes watched me, sending a shiver down my spine. It took all my strength not to cower or show any fear, not to let him intimidate me.
“And you want to kill people too,” he said, his voice an odd, controlled whisper.
Feeling anything but calm, I tried to reason with him. “I know you’re not a murderer. You kill people who deserve it. Sometimes you have to kill one to save many. I heard you say that to Mom. You’re involved in some kind of black ops with the government or something.”
“Black ops,” he repeated, shaking his head, looking disgusted. “Did Google tell you that?”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “Look, I know—”
“You know nothing!” The ice in his eyes ignited.
I flinched. My father never yelled, but the volcano that just erupted made me want to run into my room and lock the door behind me.
He took a deep breath and asked, “Do you have any idea what your mother would say if she were here?”
I couldn’t answer. My tongue wouldn’t unglue from the roof of my mouth.
“Who put these thoughts in your head about what I do and who I am?”
Did he really not realize? “Mom did. She talked about you all the time.” My mother loved him more than anything, and he loved her the same way. When she was diagnosed, he flew her all over the world, took her to the best doctors, tried any experimental treatment that showed some sign of success, and finally stayed with her and took care of her until the very end.
He barked out a miserable laugh. “Then she lied to you. She probably lied to herself too. I’m not a good man, Candy. Did she tell you that I lied to her about myself when I met her? I kept lying until she got pregnant with you. Then, when I knew she wouldn’t leave me, I told her the truth, and she hated me for it.”
“She didn’t hate you.”
“She did. She loved me, but she hated me too, just like you should. For Christ’s sake, I let Marion walk out of here with you when you were twelve years old.”
Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him. His hands were on his hips, and he appeared truly confused by my loyalty.
“I don’t hate you. I understood.”
Wincing, he said, “I don’t deserve your understanding.” Then he closed his eyes for a moment as if searching for patience. “I’m going out of town until Monday. When I get back, you will have a list of schools you want to apply to. I’ll look them over, and we can plan some visits and request applications. End of discussion.”
My hands fisted by my sides. It was like nothing I said penetrated. “You can’t make me go to college.”
“Want to bet?”
My mouth opened to protest again. “But . . . but you’ve never—”
“What? Acted like a parent before? That’s because you’ve always had your head on straight. If I knew how far up your ass it really was, I would have come down harder on you a long time ago!” With that, he slammed out of the house.
Holy shit. I stood rooted to the spot, staring at the closed door, frozen as my heart thundered in my ears. I’d never seen my father so enraged. And it was because I’d finally told him I wanted to follow in his footsteps?
His words reverberated in my head. He thought I should hate him the same way he seemed to hate himself. Was that how he really felt? Did he truly believe my mother hated him too?
As cool as he acted most of the time, he’d obviously been beating himself up over everything that happened. It was true—I resented him for letting me go so easily, and I wished he would have tried to see me more. I couldn’t deny that. But I also knew why he acted the way he did. I saw how broken he was after Mom died and how desperate he was when she was sick, trying to make her well.
Once she was gone, his work made it dangerous for him to fight for me, and his despair took away his will to try. I didn’t hate him for loving my mother so much that he was lost without her. How could I? But I couldn’t let his guilt stop me from doing what I wanted either. Somehow, I had to change his mind.
***
Theo: Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.
I was sitting at my dresser putting on shimmery pink lip gloss when I heard a car horn outside. Standing, I did a little twirl, letting my hair whip around at the same speed as the short fluttery skirt I’d bought at the mall this afternoon with Lea. Long dark waves of hair landed on my shoulder as I looked down at my bare legs. I was going to freeze, but I looked damn good.
Glancing at the pile of hand warmers on my desk, I debated taking a couple with me. Holding my fingers out, I saw the tips had a slightly purple tinge to them, which was basically normal for me. It was supposed to get cold tonight, though, and the last thing I wanted was my hands turning darker purple or stark white and drawing attention away from my other more attractive features.
People didn’t notice hands for the most part. Thank goodness, because mine were butt ugly. They were the bane of my existence, a total pain in the ass all winter long. Cold hands, warm heart, my mother used to say. I said corpse hands when they changed color and got annoyed when I had so many Band-Aids on my fingertips that I couldn’t text my friends. But we weren’t into the cold winter months yet, and my hands still looked fairly normal most of the time. At the last minute, I shoved the warmers in my bag just in case.
Outside, Lea was waiting for me in the black Audi her parents let her borrow. It was her idea for us to go to the party together since she lived nearby. I was surprised to discover how much I liked Lea, even more now that I knew she had a car at her disposal whenever she wanted.
“Hey.” Lea grinned at me when I slid inside. She was blasting a Taylor Swift song and nodding her head to the beat. Her entire head was covered by tiny little braids, all meeting together in the back and hanging down in a loose ponytail.
“Cute hair.”
“Thanks. I made my folks get me a full-length three-way mirror, like they have in department-store dressing rooms. Now I can see my head from every angle.”
“No kidding,” I said, trying not to laugh as she pulled out of the driveway. She was kind of an airhead, but in a sweet way.
Lea tapped her hands on the steering wheel in time to the music. “Despite what happened at lunch, I’m sure Jonah and Ethan will be there.”
I shrugged, but I hoped she was right. While we were shopping today, I learned that her crush on Ethan was a little more intense than I thought. She kept wondering what he might like when she was trying things on. I wanted to snap her out of it and tell her to buy what she liked, but I kept quiet, not wanting to dampen her fun.
Turning my head, I watched the houses pass by out the window. My neighborhood was what people called middle class. My father made a decent living and although we didn’t live extravagantly, apparently paying for college wasn’t going to be a problem.
My stomach rolled at the thought of our argument yesterday. I’d have to get my hands on some college applications, even if their only purpose was to buy time while I tried to change his mind.
After a few miles, Lea turned a corner and drove down a short road with cars lined up bumper to bumper on either side. At the end was a cul-de-sac, where a tall brick Tudor house sat on a small hill. Cars filled the circular driveway in front, while music and bodies spilled out of the brightly lit doorway.
“Crap,” Lea muttered. “Parker said she’d save me a spot in her driveway, but I don’t see a free one. Do you?”
I wondered if this was a trick question. I
could barely see the pavement of the driveway for all the cars lined up on it.
“You saw the heels I bought today,” she said. “No way I’m parking at the end of the street and walking all that way.”
Right in the middle of the cul-de-sac, in front of Parker’s house, Lea turned off the engine and pushed open her door.
“Hey,” I called to her. “Want me to park it?”
“No. Come on. I’ll get one of the guys to do it.” Then she started up the front lawn, toe-walking so her red stilettos wouldn’t sink into the grass.
Quickly catching up to her in my ballet flats, I watched as she handed her keys to a guy loitering on the front steps with a red cup in his hand.
“Hey, Brian. Would you mind parking my car for me in a free spot at the end of the road?” She batted her eyelashes. “I couldn’t walk all the way here in these silly things.”
Then she held up her leg and showed off her shoes to him, but his eyes were trained on the top of her thigh where her skirt had ridden up.
“Um, sure. Maybe we could hang out when I come back?” he asked hopefully.
She gave him a coy grin. “Of course we can.”
Brian took the keys and nearly ran down the lawn.
“Come on.” Lea grabbed my arm. “We have to lose ourselves in there before he comes back.”
I laughed and shook my head, feeling kind of bad for Brian.
Once inside, I glanced around to see people filled every inch of the house. The outside of the structure looked formal and old, but the inside had obviously been redone with gleaming hardwood floors and soaring ceilings. Overhead was a walkway connecting two separate sections of the upstairs. Lea headed for the kitchen and I followed, scanning the faces, looking for familiar ones.
We made it through the thick crowd to a smaller group gathered around an island in the middle of the kitchen. There I spotted Parker holding court. Wearing a tight black dress with diamond-shaped cutouts on the sides that revealed swatches of bare skin, she was cheering on a game of quarters that involved Malcolm and Ethan and another guy I didn’t know.