by Jolene Perry
Addie’s face breaks into a smile. I’ve hit a good topic. “She’s eleven, a breath from twelve.”
“My brother’s thirteen.” And I miss him like nothing I could explain.
“The one you don’t see?” Her smile fades.
“It has to do with the never-present mother who said some things about me that Jeremy must have corroborated, though I can’t imagine why. Anyway, I’ve put in petition after petition to have contact and they’ve all been denied.” Why am I telling her this?
“So, you hack computers, break into offices…” The corner of her mouth pulls up.
“It’s not quite that dramatic.” Wow. I sound kinda cool. “But something like that, yes.”
“I don’t think we’re all that different.” Even the corners of her eyes wrinkle from her smile. I continue to study her face like I do when I’m drawing someone.
“Is that so?”
“Well,” she sighs. “We’re both soaked, for one.”
I laugh again. Shit. I cannot fall for this girl. Cannot.
“If my sister was taken from me? I’d do whatever I could to get her back and that would be the reason I’m in the class, instead of…” Her eyebrows pull together and she stares down at the table.
I’d bet money my first guess was the right one. “Making train tickets to see…”
“Someone that I maybe shouldn’t have bothered with.” She takes another drink and stares out the window again. I wonder if she sees anything because she suddenly looks lost.
“I’m sorry, Addie.” Was that the right thing to say?
“Oh.” She lets this cute little puff of air out her nose. “Don’t be. It’s probably just some silly thing, right?”
“How long?”
She looks down.
And because I’ve somehow turned into a stalker of Addie, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I tap my shoe against hers. How long?
“Two years.” Her eyes flash to mine. “Don’t do that. I need someone I can trust. I guess we now have our answer if I can stop you or not.” Her voice is full of hurt, and now I feel like shit for making her tell me.
“I’m not…” I shake my head. When did I turn into such an asshole? I really shouldn’t have done that. It’s just years of being able to get people to tell me things I want to know has formed a kind of habit.
“You’re a good guy, even though you keep pumping me for information.” Her eyes immediately go to the window again. I want to see them, to watch her watching me. Not watch her blindly looking out the window.
Next time I do something with her, I’m putting us in the corner. Next time. I need to have Katy give me a good slap over this.
“Well, I have a friend that’ll be waiting for me, and you have a sister who will be waiting for you. Wanna get together tomorrow?” Did I just go way too far?
She gives me a faint smile. “Sure. I’ll meet you here? At like four?”
“You want to come all this way?”
“How do you know I don’t live around the corner?”
“Because I do.” It’s out. She knows I live in the part of town with all the oddball theater people and rock n’roll stores.
Her grin spreads. “Thanks, Dean. See you tomorrow.”
“And Addie, I’m sorry.” I shake my head.
“Don’t worry about it. I made you tell me about Jeremy the day we met, so I figure we’re even. Guess you weren’t expecting it then.”
“No. I definitely wasn’t.” Now’s when I should walk her home or pay for her cab, but I can’t pay for her cab. “How will you get home?”
“I’ll get a cab. Dad hates them, but I don’t mind them much, except for the seats.” She gives an involuntary shudder, and I wonder how far her hand sanitizer habit reaches.
“Take my jacket. It’s a little wet, but it’ll keep you off the seat. You can give it back tomorrow. I’d hate for your jeans to end up in the trash.” I laugh.
“How do you know I—”
She’s serious.
“Are you kidding me? Have you thrown away clothes just because of where they’ve been?”
Her eyes widen. “Well! That chair in the police station was gross! It gave me the creeps.”
“The girl who throws away jeans because she’s a germ-a-phob. See you, Addie.” I smirk.
“See you, Dean. The Boy who cringes when people make too much noise with their feet.” She scrapes her shoe on the floor as she stands, and I cringe.
How did she know that?
She leans over and whispers, “I pay attention.” Her warm breath hits my neck and makes me shiver. And just like that, she walks out and will probably get the first cab that comes by.
“Okay, dish.” Katy sits down in Addie’s chair only seconds after the door closes.
I half jump out of mine. “Shit. Don’t do that to me, Katy.”
“That is one gorgeous rich girl you were here with.” She pulls her lips apart so I can see her wide, fake grin.
“From class. She offered me a ride and then we both got out and we ended up here.” That should satisfy, right?
“Oh.” Katy’s eyes drop down to my drink. “You did not order a hot chocolate in front of that girl.”
I’m immediately defensive. “She said it was cute.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.” She folds her arms. “At least you finally found someone who matches you for looks.”
Jesse walks in, his unkempt shaggy head of hair is soaked from the rain. “Someone’s here for you.” I kick her foot ready to get away from Katy’s questioning.
“What?” Her eyes catch Jesse from across the room. “Hey! Here!” she yells as she stretches her hand up to wave.
I love this about Katy. She wouldn’t care if everyone in here gave her a dirty look. If she wants your attention, she’ll get it.
I need more of that.
* * *
My whole body’s chilled when I get home. I’m soaked through without my jacket.
“How was class?” Bill asks.
“Okay.” The girl was better.
“Find your way home okay in the rain?”
“I’m gonna try to burn myself in the shower to heat up.” I head off to my room.
Bill chuckles behind me.
Ben’s lying on his bed, a math book in front of him. There’s a pencil in his mouth and two problems done on a sheet of paper. It looks like freshman math, but there’s no way he’s a freshman. He has massive headphones on, and I wonder how he ended up with Bose headphones and only one small backpack of stuff. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
I head for the bathroom and turn on the water as hot as it’ll go. The water slowly thaws my body as I try to clear my head for a while.
When I finish I step back into my room to toss my wet clothes in the hamper. As I watch Ben’s head moving up and down to the rhythm of whatever’s he’s listening to, I’m glad he has headphones. I grab my sketchbook and head to the living room. Bill’ll be immersed in whatever he’s working on and Jeannette probably won’t be home for hours.
The chair in the corner under our small window is my favorite, especially with how the rain’s hitting it. I pull my pencils from the shelf next to me and stare at the paper. I’d like to do a few more blocks of the graphic novel Katy and I are determined to put together, but nothing’s coming. It’s okay. It happens sometimes. If I freak out about it, I’ll get blocked more often. I close my eyes and relax.
Addie’s staring at her desk, looking distracted and sad.
Nope. Skip that.
Addie’s standing next to a Rolls, offering me a ride.
Next.
Addie wipes her hair off her face with a towel and smiles at me.
Shit.
I’m sure the best thing to do is to give in and draw Addie a few times. Maybe that’ll get her out of my system. I do a profile first, her thin, straight nose, small lips and smooth chin. She has these thin wispy lashes that her bangs touch when she looks up. I’m careful with those. I flip the pa
ge.
Now what?
The way she smiled when I asked about her sister. We were looking at one another. Face forward. I take my time, getting the shadows under her cheekbones, the curve of her chin and jaw line just right. I’m careful with the hair falling around her face. I bet it takes her longer to make it that way than it takes me to draw it.
“Something funny?” Bill asks.
“No.” Leave it to him to find an awkward time to pay attention.
I start to shade in her eyes, but I want them to be just right. Wait. The colored pencils are right here. So, because I’m an idiot and can’t stop thinking about this girl, I take three shades of blue and start in. And then there she is, all shades of grey with striking blue eyes. Damn.
I’m sunk.
NINE
Addison
Okay, I’m officially thrilled that Dean asked me to meet him tomorrow. This also means I’m officially a horrible person because I keep staring at my phone willing it to be Chase. I’m pathetic, but don’t really want to dwell on that fact.
I flip open my laptop and put my legs on the coffee table in my room. I hate having homework. Ellie’s with me, watching old episodes of Scooby-Doo. The predictability of the show helps me relax. She’s still upset about our parents’ decision to send her overseas. I’m pissed, but I’m sure neither of them will listen to me right now.
My phone rings, making me jump so high I nearly lose my computer to the floor.
Chase.
My heart stops.
I flash the phone to Ellie who scowls and turns back to watch the show.
I stick my tongue out at the back of her head and answer. “Hey, Chase.”
“Hey, Princess.”
I’m smiling like an idiot because he only calls me that when he’s in a good mood. “Hey.”
“So, I have the whole afternoon off tomorrow. How about I sign you out of school for…you know…whatever…”
“Sure.” I know exactly what whatever means, and I can’t wait for it.
“Gotta run. Just wanted to see you.”
“See you.” Soon. We hang up. Wait a minute. How long has he been in town?
And. I’m going to have to cancel on Dean. My chest caves in a little. Dean is wise beyond his years, kind of mysterious, and a crazy amount of good-looking. But, who am I kidding here? How on earth would he fit in with my friends? The life I have now?
Who do I care enough about, to want to introduce them to Dean? I know what Deborah would say—he’s hot, but too bad he’s not going anywhere big enough for us. Which is ridiculous. Gah, why am I defending the guy to an imaginary conversation? But even I know that as much as part of me wants to push him away, the other part of me doesn’t. At the very least I need to call him tonight. No way I’m just going to stand him up.
I scroll down to his home number. Home. Not cell. Madness.
“Hello?” It’s a man, but not Dean.
“I’m looking for Dean?” And my voice suddenly threatens to stop working. At the thought of calling Dean. This guy is definitely messing with my head.
“Is this Katy?”
Katy? Who’s Katy? “No, this is…Addison. Prince.” I wait. Who’s Katy? No. Wait. Katy doesn’t matter.
“Just a minute.” I hear a muffled, “Dean!”
“Addie?” I love that he calls me this. I know it should be this special thing between Ellie and I, but Dean and I have a connection too with this thing we do, so it feels okay.
“Yeah, hey,” I say and then sort of run out of words. I feel relief at Dean’s voice. And then I just feel terrible because I’m about to cancel on him.
“So now you’re going to call me on not getting out much.” I hear the smile in his voice and I can picture him, smiling, holding some ancient-needs-to-be-plugged-into-the-wall phone.
“No.” I laugh. Then it hits me again. “I have to cancel tomorrow.”
There’s short pause. “You know, Addie. If you didn’t want to get together, you could have just said so.”
“No, I do. It’s just…” How am I going to explain that my non-boyfriend/boyfriend is in town?
“Something more important came up?” he offers.
“Something came up that I can’t get out of.” I wonder if the strain in my voice goes through. Why do I feel like such a mess over this?
“Or is someone coming by train…that you don’t want to get out of?” He tries to sound teasing, but there’s something else there. Probably a tinge of disappointment, which sucks. I don’t want Dean to be disappointed. Crap. I don’t want to be disappointed over this either.
“Can we do the next day? Please?” Why does it matter? I’ll see him next week in class. And why would it matter if we saw each other or not? And why did I have to say please? Doesn’t that just make me sound desperate?
“Why don’t you just call me. You can leave a message or something if I’m not here.” His voice is unreadable. I wish he was next to me to I could touch him and know what he’s thinking. If it would work.
“Okay.” I pause. There’s nothing else to say. “See you.”
“See you.” And his end clicks without another word, which weighs me down.
“Who was that?” Ellie’s staring.
“Dean.” I stare at the phone.
“Who’s Dean?”
“A guy I met at my class for delinquents.” I smirk, trying to recover from the guilt that’s sort of taking over.
“He sounds nice.” She shrugs and turns back to the TV.
Because he is nice. But I keep that to myself. I really don’t know him at all. “He does the same thing as me.”
Ellie’s head snaps around. “He does what? Like you? With touch?”
I nod as I bite my lip because Ellie’s reaction is way bigger than I feel like it should be. “I mean… I’m sure it’s a little different for him…”
“This is so cool.” Ellie’s eyes widen. “Now are you ready to do some research into why you can do this? Or how it works?”
I shrug. I’ve never cared. It’s fun because it’s sometimes helpful, but it’s not like a superpower or anything.
Ellie scoffs. “Leave it to you to turn something really amazing into something you find mundane.”
“Mundane?” I poke her in the side, teasing.
“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Ellie pushes my hand away.
“Sure.” It’ll be nice for me, too. I feel sort of hollowed out, or heavy, or pressured, or something. Ellie will be a nice distraction. Ellie and Scooby-Doo.
* * *
I get up at five in the morning to get ready for Chase. He’s picking me up from school sometime during the day. Doesn’t give me a lot to go on. I go over and over my hair, triple check my makeup, and empty half the contents of my makeup drawer into my backpack. For touch-ups. Just in case.
My stomach and chest are consumed with something like butterflies, only it feels more brutal than butterflies because of how awkward talking with Chase has been. Today with him has to be perfect. I step out of my room and up the hallway. Off to school. Off to wait.
* * *
I’ve been called out of fifth period. Part of me wishes he’d made it earlier in the day. That familiar feeling of not being wanted as much as I should be hits me. But it’s fine. It’s probably me just being young, juvenile. I don’t need him to be thinking this about me. He isn’t in town often and so he’s really busy when he’s here. A girl with some maturity would understand. I’m determined to be this girl.
I swear every hallway in my school is longer than normal. And then there’s Chase, standing at the main office, waiting for me. Perfect smile, perfect hair, perfectly gorgeous. My brain isn’t working right because the only adjective I can come up with is perfect. My chest gets all fluttery, and it’s just another reason why I know we need to try harder to spend time together, because when I see him? It’s all good.
“Your dad sent me. I hope that’s okay.” His smile is easy, relaxed.
“Fine.�
� I break my eyes from his to nod to Mrs. Johnson, the woman at the front desk. “Thank you.” I wave as I follow Chase out the front door.
“Wow, I forget how hot that is.” His arms are around me and his face is buried against my neck and I can’t believe that he’s here with me. “Your uniform. The plaid skirt, and the uptight blouse…”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“No one’s at your house, right?” He pulls us to a stop and presses us together.
“Right.” I let his hands roam over my sides and half up my shirt, right here on the sidewalk.
“It doesn’t take long to get there, and I want the time with you.”
I let him lead me to a cab he has waiting and we take off.
I have that same desperate feeling I always have around him. The feeling that I’ll never be close enough, he’ll never be close enough and we’ll never be together long enough. We make a bit of a spectacle of ourselves making out in the back of the cab, but I’m sure the driver’s seen worse.
* * *
When I push open the front door, Dad’s voice carries through the hall.
“Oh, shit.” Chase stops, even though I’m half-unbuttoned from our ride up the elevator.
“He’s in his room. Just jog quietly with me to mine. He’s in the opposite side of the house. We’re fine.” I scrunch my nose and try to shrug, like I deal with this all the time, even though I can’t imagine why Dad’s home right now.
“Are you sure?” He’s standing just outside the door, his eyes wide and leaning away.
“I’m sure.” Even though I’m mostly just hoping.
“How will I get out?”
“I’ll get you out.” I touch his arm. Come with me. It always works on Chase—especially since most of him really wants to be here right now.
He follows me through the door and slides his arms around me as we step into my room. We don’t even try to make it to my bed. I lock the door and his hands on me and his lips on me make me feel incredible, amazing, beautiful, sought after, loved, cherished… He’s on top of me on my couch, his mouth pressing against mine.
He slides his hands under my shirt, and I tense up. He’s grabbing at me like he does when we’re in a hurry. Why doesn’t he just touch me? Enjoy me? It’s always harsh hands, strong hands… Maybe we’re always in a hurry, which seems a little ridiculous.