Butterfly Kisses (The Butterfly Chronicles #2)
Page 21
The five days that I’m without Chase are miserable. I mope at home and try to stay distracted at work. We text nonstop, video chat online, and talk into the wee hours of the night. Finally, he returns and just in time for New Year’s. We have the whole evening planned. My parents are going to their annual party, and Lana has plans with Britt and Tomas, so we get the house to ourselves. We’re planning on watching the Rockin’ New Year special with popcorn and a blanket. I also think I’m ready to take our physical relationship to the next level, not sex, not yet. He hasn’t pressured me, but I think he wants to go further also. I dress comfortably but cute in layered T-shirts and some bootcut jeans with fuzzy socks. My parents know we’re hanging out, but obviously not that we’re dating. They would not let us hang out alone. We’re getting serious though, and I think I’m going to have to tell them soon. But soon isn’t tonight. After they leave for the evening, I go to the kitchen and begin popping the popcorn. I turn on the TV and return to the popcorn as it finishes in the microwave. I put it into a large bowl, when I hear the front door.
“We should just go ahead and give you a key; otherwise, criminals may discover our spare key hiding place,” I tease as he enters with two large fountain drinks from the gas station.
“Sounds good to me.” He hands me my Coke and digs his hand into the popcorn. We settle into the couch and watch the program. Once we’ve had our fill of popcorn, we get distracted easily, stretching out beside each other and making out under the blanket. What begins as soft gentle kisses escalates quickly to passion and ferociousness that I’m not sure we have experienced before. With my back to the TV, I take a deep breath as I delicately slide my hand up his shirt and touch his stomach. He clenches it as he takes a deep breath. I creep my hand up further, and he releases that breath attack my mouth. I straddle him and continue kissing him. Then with shaking hands, I pull away from him and remove both of my T-shirts at once, exposing my dark purple bra and bare skin. His eyes widen momentarily as he takes me in. He saw me in a bikini all summer, but he looks at me like it’s the first time he’s ever seen me. He leans up and pulls off his T-shirt from his back neckline in one smooth motion. My heart is thundering in my chest as I lower myself and press against him, feeling his skin against mine like this for the first time. His mouth finds mine again as his hands roam all over me, touching my back, my arms, and finally, almost reverently, my breasts. We don’t know what time it is, if the ball has dropped yet, if we are crossing this line as the year ends or begins. We don’t care. All that matters is us, and this intimacy that we are sharing exploring each other. Chase unsnaps my jeans, and my heart races in anticipation of his touch. I have no idea what to expect, but if it’s anything like I’ve already experienced with him, it’s going to be amazing. His hand traces the top edge of my panties.
“Oh My God!” I don’t say it; Chase doesn’t say it; my mom says it. The light switch snaps as she illuminates the great room, and it feels like spotlights on us while we scramble to cover up. My heart slams into my chest as my skin instantly feels clammy. I can’t breathe and I feel lightheaded and I’m mortified. Chase’s entire torso is red as he put his shirt on. I do the same, clumsily, because mine is turned inside out. I can’t even look at my parents as my dad asks sternly, “What’s going on here?” Neither of us answers right away. “How long has this been going on?”
“We’ve been together since Thanksgiving,” I say softly in a shaky voice. Chase doesn’t look at me, and I don’t look at him.
“I’m disappointed in both of you,” Mom says, putting her hand against her forehead. “Eric, will you walk Chase outside please?” Chase begins to follow before he pauses and looks my mom in the eye.
“I love your daughter.” Her eyes narrow at him, but she doesn’t respond. He trudges to the hall, and I hear him grab his coat and put his shoes on by the door. He and Dad talk, and it sounds calm, but the temperature is a lot colder in here; in fact, it’s freezing.
“Button up your pants,” Mom says sternly. I look down, embarrassed, and do as I’m told. I look at the floor as my dad re-enters the kitchen. It’s silent for a long moment. “You’re grounded for a month. No TV, no computer, no phone, no car except for work and school,” Mom says, holding out her hand to me. I pull my phone from my back pocket and turn it off before I put it in her hand. That is my life I’m handing over to her.
“I need to call Mike Livingston,” Dad says as he scrolls through his own phone and leaves the room. I look at the clock; it’s only eleven-thirty.
“Why are you home so early?” I ask. Mom shoots me a death look. I want to shrink and disappear.
“You and Chase are not to be alone in this house. You knew the rule; you sat and watched as Lana and Tomas were chaperoned for months.” I cross my arms to hide the shiver that rocks my body as I hear my dad in the hall say, “Hands down her pants.”
“Are you having sex?” My eyes widen as I look at the floor.
“No.” I say, face hot, hands clammy, knees shaking.
“No more sleepovers with Tasha and Jade. How do I know that is where you really are? And Monday we’re going to the doctor.” I look up at her confused. “I’m not going to be a grandmother for at least ten more years,” she says pointedly as Dad re-enters the kitchen.
“He knew,” he says in disbelief.
“That they were fooling around?” Mom asks incredulously.
“No, that they were dating. You trusted him and not us?” He asks. “All this time you’ve been lying to us? Keeping secrets. Honesty is the only way you keep our trust.” He shakes his head. Mom’s eyes narrow, but she continues just to glare at me.
“Can I still see him?” I ask, feeling like the walls are closing in on me.
“He can visit you here. He’s not allowed to go upstairs, of course, but only after your grounding is over. When you go out, we want to know who’s going to be there, and what you will be doing. We’ve given you way too much slack, trust, and freedom. Your curfew is now ten-thirty.”
“That’s not fair,” I demand. Lana’s curfew is ten-thirty.
“It’s more than fair. You can still see him. We could cut you off completely. But we like Chase; he’s a good kid,” Mom says. “Go to bed.”
“It’s not even midnight yet, and it’s New Year’s.” My hands are in fists as I stare at her.
“Be glad we’re not sending you off to boarding school. . . tonight,” she states as Dad leans against the counter. They are a unified force. England to Colonial America, Germany to my Poland, Iraq to my Kuwait, my tyrants.
I turn and stomp down the hall, up the stairs, and slam my door as hard as I can. January will be the longest month of my life.
Lana
When I come home New Year’s Day, the house is quiet. Dad’s M.I.A, and Mom’s locked in her bedroom. I find Lacey piled up in her bed, awake but staring at the wall in her dark room. She fills me in on her condemnation with red puffy eyes. I feel really bad for Chase and Lacey. It must have been horrible being caught making out like that. I didn’t get all the intimate details but enough to know they are serious about each other, though I knew that before they did.
“Can you text him and tell him what’s going on? I haven’t been able to talk to him. I don’t even know if he got into trouble too,” she whispers as she snuggles back down into her blankets and watches the door. I do.
Lacey’s grounded for a month from everything, including you, or especially you. Maybe I shouldn’t tease him. I read her his response as it comes in.
Dad was pretty upset, especially after your dad called. I got a long, painful lecture about safe sex and a box of condoms. Tell her I’m sorry.
“Why is he sorry? He didn’t do anything wrong. I should have told Mom and Dad a long time ago.” She presses her hand against her forehead. “Tell him I don’t blame him. I love him and will see him Wednesday at school.” She closes her eyes as I type away.
I love her too. I spend the rest of the day trying to cheer her up, but it�
�s not effective since our usual vices of junk TV and food are off limits.
I welcome the return of school; the tension at home is too much. Between Mom and Dad; Mom, Dad, and Lacey; and Dad and me, I could go on and on. Lacey drives us to school in a solemn mood, but as soon as we enter the doors, she spots Chase waiting for her. He races her, and they embrace tightly. I just wave as I leave them standing in the middle of the hall blocking traffic. My hair is wavy today, and I’m wearing a thin, fitted, plaid flannel shirt with navy blue and Christmas colors in it, tucked into distressed skinny jeans under my pea coat, and the new combat boots I got for Christmas. Halfway down the hall, Tomas finds me, and his fingers lace perfectly with mine. He’s still wearing the hat I knitted him, and he glows. I think I may glow too. We smile at each other and both walk with our heads high. People pause and look at us as we go by, but we don’t care. I finally feel normal, the normal I have always wanted to feel. Even popular, I was always watching my back or wanting more. Holding his hand like this, I’m content. We hit up both of our lockers, only separating when necessary for picking up books or taking off our coats. We walk to class together. I don’t want to leave his side, but too soon we part with a small peck as the school day begins.
At lunch, my friends and I are in our own world: a new year, a new semester, and a new clique. Danni and Macy surprise us by joining our table. At first Britt is annoyed that more underclassmen are hanging out with her, but after I give her a look that says “give it a try,” she does and smiles and laughs with the rest of us. I can tell instantly that Tomas approves of the girls. For the second time today, I’m washed over with joy and happiness in my life outside of the house.
“Can you go with me to the mall? I got a gift card for Christmas,” Britt asks me as she flashes her hundred-dollars pre-paid Visa card.
“Who got you that?” I wonder if her mom had a good day on Christmas day.
“My grandparents in Florida sent it to me. They do that every few years,” she smiles.
“I can’t go today. I’ve got group, and the holidays really have messed up our schedule,” I say.
“I’ll go,” Macy chimes in.
“Me too,” Danni agrees.
“You girls have fun,” I say, and I can’t help but notice the smile spread across Britt’s face.
I wait on the stoop after school for my mom. It’s beginning to snow, and I scrunch up into a ball to keep warm. She’s late, and I’m dreading another accelerated trip to the north side with my dad. I scratch at the polish on my nails as she pulls up in her SUV. I grab my bag and run to her car, trying to avoid the flakes as if they’re bombs, like it’s even possible. I jump in, and she pulls away.
“Sorry, I had a late meeting.” This is new since my mom takes clients, not meetings.
“It’s OK,” I say. I want to ask her how she’s doing, how she’s dealing, and how she thinks we’ll recover, but I don’t. Instead, I watch the snow dance along the interstate as cars zoom past it, leaving it flailing in their wake. I know how you feel. We arrive and follow our routine. Mom sits, takes out her e-reader, and I go through the double doors. Everyone is there except for Will. I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s running late. I wiggle into the seat beside Patrick and smile at everyone.
“Happy New Year, Lana,” Dr. Mase says.
“Hi, guys,” I say with a small wave.
“I like your shoes,” Bendi says. She’s wearing a loosely knit sweater that hangs off her bare shoulder, but she has a thin-striped, henna tattoo where a strap from a bra or tank top would be. Very cool.
“I like your whole outfit,” I return. Will sneaks in and slides into the seat beside me. I can’t help but notice his knuckles are purple and cut. I watch him for a moment, but he looks at me wearily.
“Who wants to start today?” Dr. Mase asks, as he crosses his ankle over his knee. Anna sits with her hand in her lap, ankles crossed. Patrick raises his hand.
“I sent in my submission to Butler over the holidays.”
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“I may have to wait a year to get in since I sent it so late. But Mrs. Armstrong, my art teacher, seems to think I sent my best pieces. She’s hopeful for me, anyway. And for the first time I am too.”
“Are you applying to other schools?” Dr. Mase asks.
“Yes, Herron School of Art and the Art Institute of Chicago.”
“Good, good.” Dr. Mase makes notes. “Will, what’s new with you this week?”
“Not a lot.” Will says, his face turning red. I can’t help but look at his hands again. He looks over at me for a long moment and then continues, “My brother and I got into a fight yesterday. I think I’ve told everyone about him. He’s been in and out of juvie; he just got out before Christmas. And my parents can’t just dump him on the streets. He didn’t realize that I’ve changed too since he went away. I dealt with his abuse silently, but this time when he came after me, I fought back.” He looks at me again and holds up his hand to the rest of group. “You should see the other guy,” he smirks as he directs that statement at me.
“Violence is never the answer,” Dr. Mase begins.
“It is when it’s eat or be eaten,” Will defends passionately.
“I’ll talk to your parents, Will. Just calm down; did you talk to them about it? Did you come up with a plan of action before or after he came home?” Will looks down at his hands again.
“We must have forgotten,” he mumbles.
“I think we need to have another family session and explain the rules again to Walt.” Dr. Mase scribbles a long note. Anna’s eyes widen as she looks away quickly. I look down, wondering what she saw. My phone goes off in my purse with a text message alert, and I scramble to silence it. I never worried about it before, but now that my friend pool is expanding, I’m going to have to start turning it off. I glance at it and see it’s from Macy. I glance at Dr. Mase apologetically as I turn it off.
“Lana, how are things with you?” he asks as he raises his glasses and pinches between his nose, a little annoyance still showing in his voice.
“Things are pretty good on most fronts,” I say, dropping my phone back into my purse.
“The other fronts?” he asks.
“Family stuff, we’ve hashed it out, I can only take one day at a time right?” I sigh leaning back.
“Definitely a good start.” He smiles at me.
Once group is over, I turn my phone back on and the message reads:
Call me. NOW!
By the time I can, it’s been forty-five minutes since I got the text. I dial her number as Mom and I walk to her car.
“Hello?” she answers frantically.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my concern rising.
“OK, so you know how we were going to go shopping with Britt this afternoon?”
“Yeah, did you have fun?”
“Well, we were at Debbs and just looking around. Then Danni bought some jeans, and Britt said something about American Eagle, and we were like ‘sure sounds good.’ Besides Amanda was there giving Britt a hard time, and we just wanted to get away from her.” Dread shoots straight up from my stomach and burns the back of my throat. Macy’s voice begins to waver. “As we left, the sensor went off. The clerk called us back over thinking she missed the sensor in the jeans, so we obliged. The sensor was removed, so she wanted to double-check our purses to make sure we weren’t shoplifting; we opened our bags. We had nothing to hide. But when Britt opened her bag, there on the top was a pair of panties with a sensor on it. She was as shocked as the clerk, who of course called security, and like two rental cops came, with one Plainfield policeman.” My hand goes to my head as my mom pauses and looks at me, concerned. Macy continues, “They arrested her. They called our parents, and my dad came and picked us up. We didn’t get into trouble. They just took us to these offices, separated us, and asked a lot of questions. Lana, they let us go, but she’s in jail. They couldn’t reach her mom or anyone.” Her voice shakes.
Something about this didn’t feel right. Britt was smart about her shoplifting. She’d never take something with a sensor. She knew better. I look at Mom and know what I have to do.
“I’m going to help her. No way she did that,” I say, completely believing myself. “Don’t worry. I’ll come over when I get home if that’s OK,” I say, wishing I had been with Britt this afternoon. That wouldn’t have happened if I had been there. Mom goes to unlock her car, and I scroll through my contacts, hitting send. “Mom, Britt was arrested for shoplifting.” She stops and stares at me. Dr. Mase answers his mobile phone. I repeat Macy’s story and ask for his help, and he asks that Mom and me to come back up to his office. We do, and he meets us in the lobby, and we follow him to his office. We sit down in the chairs by his desk. He looks at me for a long moment.
“Lana, Britt is your best friend correct?” I nod. “What do you think I can do for her?” I take a deep breath, understanding that my mom may not let me hang out with her after this, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take if she can get help and out of this mess. So I tell him, and Mom, how I met her, that I used to smoke, how she shoplifts, and why I know she didn’t take those panties. I feel like I’m betraying her as I explain about her mother, but I have to for him to understand fully. I rehash about Amanda and what really happened that got me suspended, not the fabricated story Amanda made up. Mom frowns; I guess she doesn’t like hearing that I was getting away with do so many bad things.
“She has problems; I’ll admit that, but she’s a good person who is coping the only way she knows how to. She needs help. Dr. Mase, can you help her?” I ask, tears welling in my eyes.
“I’ll see what I can do and make some calls.” I nod, and Mom rises.
“Thank you Dr. Mase,” she says quietly. He nods sympathetically.
“Have you thought anymore about the family session?” He looks at me, and I know he’s trying to relay the importance of it.