by Jolene Perry
“There are also some people who think that these shadow people are harmful, and some that think they need help. I swear, that’s almost all this guy talks about on here.” Ellie scrolls down but I get another shiver.
Am I not going crazy and the movement in the shadows is real? In my house?
“But not just online,” Ellie says. “I saw this picture of a girl with this massive burn that was written up as being from the shadow people. The other day, I had—”
Ellie’s phone rings and she glances down at the screen. “Gotta take it.” She sets her laptop down on my coffee table and flits out of the room.
“So.” Dean stares at her computer. “That was interesting.”
My gut’s seizing up and I swear my ribs just shrunk. I do not want to know any of this. “Ellie’s into it. Part of me doesn’t want to know. What I do serves me well, and that’s enough.” And thinking about where it came from or who else might do what I do makes me feel small. I hate feeling small. And then I narrow my eyes and look slowly around my room for any sign of movement. Halfway around, I start feeling silly, which is enough motivation for me to stop. My eyes are tricking me because of stress, and my sister’s found some whack job with a skulled-up website. That’s all.
I start to flip the laptop closed not wanting to hear any more about shadows, but Dean points.
“This is cool, though.” His finger touches the screen. “I wonder if it’s real? Can you imagine being able to make yourself disappear?” He points at Shield. “Or seeing into the future?” His finger rests over Insight this time. “And I bet if we went back to that blog and researched, I wouldn’t sleep for a week.”
“Crazy.” I lean back. “So, this isn’t exactly what I planned to do today.”
“What did you plan?” Dean’s smiles a little and scoots closer, like he’s teasing about making a move, but would also probably be okay with me letting him.
“Nice try.” I hold my hand up between us. “I don’t know. A repeat of your house, I guess.”
Another knock at my door is followed by Ellie. “Just got word from Marla that Dad’s on his way home.”
“I’m guessing that ends our evening?” Dean asks.
Sadness tugs at my chest because I don’t want our day to be over, but I also don’t want Ellie trying to feed me any more info. Right now I wish for ignorance. “Yeah. I guess so.”
I hand the laptop to Ellie who jogs off to her room.
When Dean stands up I feel like there are a million things flashing behind his eyes that I want to learn more about—I’m just not sure how to start.
SIXTEEN
Dean
I’m not ready to go. I wanted to talk. To relax. To get closer. Now… It’s kind of like someone just kicked me out, even though that’s not what’s happening at all.
Addie has that gorgeous wide-eyed unsure look about her again, and I step forward almost needing to hold her, just for a minute. At this point I don’t care if she hears everything I’m thinking. It’d be a lot easier than saying it out loud.
I’m falling for you. I really like you. I want to spend more time with you…
Okay. Maybe I do care if she hears it all. My thought process would probably send her running in the opposite direction.
We’re so close her breath touches my face, and I don’t know who moved closer to get us here.
“Nice try, Dean.” She backs away and moves for her door. “We’re not there yet, and Dad’ll be home soon.”
When she steps further away I totally buy everything Ellie just said about Auras and energy because I can feel her moving away. “Okay.” I start to follow her out.
“Thanks, Dean.” She turns, standing in her doorway, facing me.
“For what?”
“For being honest.”
“Thank you, for the same thing.”
She looks behind her as we go up the hallway and stops.
I turn around as Addie points to the floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the hall as she turns her head sideways. “Was that…?”
“What?” I ask, her nervous energy spills into me putting me on edge.
“I’m losing my mind.” She sucks in a deep breath. “Need to talk to Ellie about trying to freak me out. That’s all.”
I glance back to the window and city lights stretch as far as I can see making me wonder what Addie just thought she saw.
“Come on. Before Dad gets home.”
As we move back through the massive living room, I’m reminded again at how many ways I don’t belong around this girl.
Addison stops at the front door and turns. She’s looking at me again in the way that makes me want to wrap my arms around her waist, brush her lips with mine… And I suddenly don’t care how many reasons I shouldn’t be here.
“While we’re being all honest… I really want to kiss you, Addie.” I can’t believe I just forced that out of my mouth. I’ve never felt the need to ask permission before, but we have this weird touch thing.
“Don’t you dare.” She narrows her eyes, trying to tease. My guess is she feels it too, but is afraid to move forward. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Teasing is her escaping my request.
I lift an eyebrow and her blue eyes hit mine. I’m trying to keep it light, but probably failing miserably.
“I’ll walk you out and see you later.” She opens the door and we step into the foyer.
“Sorry.” I chuckle and take a deep breath.
“Dean, what you want and what I feel get all mixed up when we touch.” She sounds apologetic.
“So, what you’re saying is that you need to trust me.” My deep breath helped me relax for a whole two seconds.
“I guess.” Her tiny brows pull together again. “It’s just as soon as you touch me, how will I know if it’s what I want or what you want?”
“What if I don’t touch you?” I step toward her and she steps back. She needs to know that she wants this like I want this. Well, if she does. I keep walking and she keeps moving away—our eyes locked together.
She stops when her back bumps against the wall next to the elevator door. Her breath is loud and shallow. I watch her throat as she swallows once. I step in close. It feels like I’ve been looking in her eyes long enough for everything to be all mixed up between us without even touching her. All that energy we talked about mixes and bounces and both draws me to her and keeps me away. We might as well be slammed together for how strung-up my body feels right now.
“Dean…” I can’t tell by the tone of her voice if she’s saying my name to bring me closer, or to push me back. She sounds as breathless as I feel.
I rest my hands on the wall, on either side of her face. “I promise not to touch you. You’ll have to touch me.” I swallow. I can’t breathe. The electricity around us stops everything else.
She smells wonderful, with her perfume or soap or whatever she wears that makes me want to breathe her in. I hover closer, flexing my arms, getting my body as close to hers as I can without us touching. The warmth from her floats over me, into me, pulling me closer, hovering. Her large eyes turn down from mine and her face begins to tilt toward me, just slightly. I breathe in her breath, waiting for her to make the final decision of whether we’ll touch or not.
The elevator dings next to us and I jump away. Moment broken. Shit that was intense. I gasp in for air. Totally not like me.
“Hey, Dad.” She sounds amazingly natural.
A girl who looks like the blond version of someone who wants to be Addie, steps out behind him.
“Hi Bunny, what’s going on?” He smiles from her to me and back to her.
“This is Dean, from class. He’s on his way home.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr…Prince.” I almost laugh at how those words sound together. But I manage to keep nothing but a smile.
“My car’s still downstairs, Dean. I’ll let them know you’re coming.” He glances me up and down once.
I’d put money on him offering his car to ke
ep up appearances of being nice, but really just wanting to know where I live and getting me out of his house.
“I don’t live far,” I lie. “Thank you, though.”
“I’m Deborah.” She holds her hand out and looks at me in a way that even I can recognize—she might like to know me better. It makes me dislike her immediately. She knows that I’m here with her friend. Are all Addie’s friends like this?
“See you.” Addie looks at me through her bangs, a faint smile on her lips.
I flop against the wall of the elevator as the door closes. Not even a real kiss, and I feel weak. When did I turn into this guy?
SEVENTEEN
Addison
So, now I’m breathless from a boy I want to kiss more than I’ve ever wanted to kiss anyone, and Dad’s staring at me. Deb’s staring at me. “I’m sorry, did you ask me something?” I try to smile.
“Nope.” He opens the door. “We can talk when you and Deborah are done.” The door closes behind him.
“Crap.” I sigh.
“Who is that guy? He’s soooo hot.” Deborah grins as the front door closes. Her voice echoes in the foyer.
“From my class.”
“Yeah. He didn’t look like he was from your school.”
“Why’s that?” I feel defensive of him, just like I knew I would.
“Your fixation on Adidas is now clear, but it’s fairly amazing I was able to take my eyes off his face. He’s like, really good-looking.”
“There’s a lot more to him than that.” But then I realize that I’ve invited a slew of questions.
“You like, like him. Don’t you?” Her brows go up as her weight shifts back.
She’s my friend, right? “Yeah.”
“What’s he going to do with himself to keep you living like this?” Dana gestures at the small but elaborate foyer.
I want to tell her she cares a lot more than I do but don’t. “He’s an artist.”
She snorts a chuckle out her nose. “Well, I guess it’s good to get that out of your system now.”
Now I’m kind of pissed. “Are you coming in? Or…”
“No way. Your dad wants to talk.” She shakes her head. “He scares the crap out of me, and I already had to ride with him in the elevator. I’ll see ya later.”
“See you.” I step inside and the question is out of Dad’s mouth before I can close the door.
“Where do you know Dean from?”
“My class.”
“School?” He stands next to the couch.
“Actually from my life skills class. The one ordered by the judge?” I cringe, waiting for his reaction.
“Oh, for shit’s sake. Are you trying to give me a coronary?” He sighs, but doesn’t seem as irritated as he could.
Good thing, because if he was irritated, I’d have to bring up the fact that I wouldn’t have been in that class if Dad had just signed the waiver form. And then it sinks in that I wouldn’t have met Dean, and that seems…awful.
“No.” I laugh. “Not trying to give you a heart attack, Dad. He’s just looking for his brother. That’s why he’s in trouble. His crime was a lot less than mine, really.”
Dad raises a skeptical brow and steps into the living room. “I have some work to finish up tonight.”
“Okay.” That’s dad-speak for find somewhere else to be.
I walk to Ellie’s door. “Wanna get takeout?”
“Can we do Thai?” She glances over her homework.
I make a face. “I hate spicy.”
“Then get something wimpy and American like teriyaki chicken.”
“Fine.” I let her have her way because… Well, it just seems like she should.
Ellie and I put in one of the “real people” Scooby-Doo movies until we hear the doorbell. Ellie runs out to pick up our food and I follow. She likes the delivery girl from the Thai place because her hair is a different color every time she comes.
Orange today. Must have taken some time.
Dad’s on the sofa in a conference call, but stops talking when we’re in the room. His laptop’s open in front of him, and I begin to follow Ellie, but as soon as his talking starts up again, I walk slowly back toward the living room. A chill runs through me as I hit the open space. It feels almost drafty in here. My silhouette reflects in the windows across the front of the apartment, but Dad is intent on the screen of his computer.
I glance over his shoulder at his laptop to see two people, my age, on the back of a sailboat. He’s in his Middlemen thing again. I can see the tab at the top of the page. He scrolls through a few more grainy pictures of the same couple. A guy with a hat and long shorts, and a girl with masses of blonde curls.
“And you’re sure we have the activity narrowed down to them?” he asks. “Because this seems a lot more like Senator Michaels’ problem than mine, and I don’t appreciate all the crap I’m taking on his behalf.”
Them? They really do look my age. What kind of trouble are they involved in?
“Well, I obviously know about the activity here.” He’s keeping his voice quiet. His eyes glance up from the laptop to see my figure in the glass.
Our eyes catch and I gasp. He slaps his laptop shut and spins around to face me. “Mind your own damn business, Addison!” He barks and points down the hall, toward my room.
“Sorry.” I cringe and wish I could shrink as I walk down the hall. Dad’s into all sorts of things, there’s probably a few I shouldn’t know about—I’m sure Middlemen is one of them. What I do know is a long time ago he set up some sort of online chat, email communication thing. I know it took a long time because even though he didn’t tell us why we were celebrating, we all went to The Oak Room for dinner. I knew because I’m snoopy and pay attention.
Their faces are burned into my brain though. Two people, on the back of a boat, in a harbor. What on earth would be the purpose of that? It obviously wasn’t a professional pic, too grainy. So, it couldn’t be used for anything promotional. Why would he need a picture of two random people?
Why does it matter who they are? Are they in trouble? Are they involved in something my dad’s working on? They’re so young. It doesn’t make sense.
I flop on the couch behind Ellie who’s feasting on the floor. I’m actually relieved to not have my phone. Dean’s probably still on his way home. I begin to see how ridiculous my friends can be. After my talk with Dean I wonder if they’re actually my friends at all. Right now I feel like the walking stereotype of a spoiled rich girl with fake friends. No part of me wants to be that girl. Well… aside from the perks, I don’t want to be that girl. Crap. Maybe this is who I am. The girl on Park. I’m so spoiled I think it sucks.
* * *
Graduation is tomorrow night. I’m officially done with high school. Even if I don’t show tomorrow, I’m still good. I mean, I’ll be there. But the end is here. Deborah’s cousins from Seattle graduated more than a week ago, which seems a bit unfair somehow.
I swing open the doors on the floor of the building that holds my dad’s law firm. I don’t spend much time at Dad’s office. He hates to be bothered at home when he’s working, but he really hates to be bothered here.
“Addison, how are you?” Lila the receptionist greets me with professional efficiency. “Should I tell your dad you’re here?”
“I’m after Uncle Mac.” And this is the first time I’ve come to visit him where I’m a bit nervous because I really need his help.
“Oh, he just finished up with a client. Run on back. He doesn’t mind.” She does a half eye-roll. Not so professional, but I’ve come in here lots so she knows it’s okay.
Kind of ironic that even the front desk receptionist knows not to bother Dad, even with me.
“Bunny!” Uncle Mac stands up from his chair and comes around his vast desk to give me a hug. I sometimes wonder about the size of their desks. Is it like boats and cars? The fancier they are, the more money and power you must have? I’m not sure. At any rate, I’m sure his wife Meg picked it ou
t for him. “Have a seat. What can I do for you?”
“I’m trying to find someone, for a friend.”
“What kind of friend?” An eyebrow goes up as a sort of knowing smile starts to form.
For Dean—the guy who sees through me, the guy who I can talk to without speaking. I feel a smile start to spread. “A really good one?” I giggle then, in a way that’s probably a dead giveaway to how I feel.
“And who is this young man?” Mac leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his Armani suit. So slick and yet so full of goodness all at the same time.
“His name is Dean Courser. After some mix-up, he and his brother got separated through the foster care system. Due to another mix-up, he’s not allowed to see him.” Is that enough?
Uncle Mac sits up and leans his arms on his desk. “Are you sure you have the full story, Addison? Are you sure there’s nothing else in there?”
“I’m sure. Dean’s a good guy and when I think about where I’d be without Ellie…” Please let him understand this.
“Is she still upset about next year?” His face falls and he’s watching my reaction closely.
“Yeah. I’m trying hard to be excited for her. Dad suddenly got all nice and said he’d fly me over to visit anytime I want.” Our conversation still confuses me.
“Hmm.” Uncle Mac sits up and pulls out his laptop. “Okay, give me as much info as you have on Dean.”
I tell Uncle Mac his address, age, when he was taken into the system, his little brother’s age, Dean’s foster parent’s names, everything I have.
“You know you can’t tell anyone where you got this info, right?” He winks.
“Thanks, Uncle Mac.” My shoulders feel lighter. My heart feels lighter. I’m about to do something for Dean, and it’ll really mean something.
“This is a big deal.” He’s watching me closely again.
“Huge.” This is a huge deal. I feel all swelled up with goodness over this one.
EIGHTEEN
Dean
I sit in the gym at graduation and look at my graduating class. I’ve been with this group for the last three years and probably the only one I’ll be talking to in five years is Katy. Unless I date someone she hates or vice versa, but I don’t really see that happening. Am I supposed to feel something more here? Something that will change my life, point me in new directions and make me soar like an eagle? I roll my eyes. Graduation speeches are so full of crap rhetoric that I don’t know where to begin.