by S. L. Naeole
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I said out loud. “I love his scar?”
How the hell can you love a scar? Especially when you don’t even like the person the scar is attached to?
God, I’m such a bad liar. I can’t even lie to myself.
Because I did like him. I liked Liam a lot.
But I also hated him.
“And his stupid scar!”
I stopped when I realized what I must have sounded like to my parents if they were listening, then laughed with relief when I looked over to the clock on my nightstand and saw that there was no way they were still up. Still, I kept quiet for the rest of the night.
When the sun finally decided to show up, I was out of bed and limping like an idiot to the bathroom. Mom and Dad’s door was closed which meant it was bowl of cereal for breakfast. Of course, when I opened the refrigerator, there wasn’t any milk. Which probably made sense since when I opened the pantry door, there wasn’t any cereal either.
My stomach was rumbling, but the last thing I was going to do was start a house fire trying to fry up some eggs and pretend the empty space beside them was bacon. Or turkey bacon. Or tofu bacon. Or even paper bacon.
So I took the keys to the truck, hobbled outside, and stopped dead in my tracks.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Audrey was sitting in her chair, her hair neatly braided into a circle around her head. She was wearing a pretty coral dress, and it looked like her ears had been pierced because she had tiny little balls of gold glinting from her lobes. She had a tired smile on her face, and her eyes looked like they had enough luggage beneath them to go to Mars.
“You look about as bad as I feel,” she said with a soft laugh.
“That’s funny,” I laughed along with her. “I was gonna say the same thing to you.”
“I was so worried about you that I did everything I could think of to keep myself busy until Liam could come home and bring me over to see you. I thought Dr. Phan would keep you in the clinic longer but then we went over there and I think we kinda woke her up because I didn’t realize it was so early but I couldn’t wait to see you and now I’m here and you’re here and…yeah.”
She said all of this in one breath. One long, pause-free breath.
“So you came here instead?” My eyes searched for him, knowing he was here, feeling he was here. “Where is he?”
She looked around her, behind her, and then at me with a shrug. “Gone.”
“Gone?”
I looked past her, past the truck, down the drive, through the trees, but there wasn’t anything or anyone there.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said nervously. “Where are you going?”
She was looking at the keys in my hand, and for a minute I forgot. “Um…”
But then my stomach reminded me – loudly – like some kind of rabid badger trying to gnaw its way out through my gut.
“Hungry, huh?”
Laughing, I nodded. “I was planning on going into town and hunt down some breakfast. Want to come?”
She grinned, and wheeled herself to the passenger side of the truck. I opened the door for her and watched her pull herself up and in without a struggle. Me, on the other hand…I looked like some kind of troll, hobbling as I grabbed her wheelchair.
“What happened to your chair?” I asked as I tried to collapse it before putting it into the truck bed. Part of the frame was dented, and I could see some holes torn in the fabric of the chair’s back. She didn’t hear me, though; she was buckled in, her door closed, ready to go by the time I was in the driver seat.
“I’m sorry about what happened,” she said to me, looking at the bandage peeking out from the neckline of my shirt.
“Why? It’s not your fault,” I told her with a shrug, wincing with pain as I felt my stitches tug.
“Sure,” she said quietly, looking out of the window as I backed out and headed down the drive. She was touching the glass, her face pressed against it and her shoulders slouching down with a pretty dramatic sigh.
I knew it was impossible, but for some reason she looked…guilty, as if what had happened to me was her fault or something. I didn’t understand why. It’s not like she could control what the freakishly big and obviously starving animals did.
She just lived here.
CHAPTER THIRTY
LIAM
She couldn’t see me. I knew she couldn’t see me. I’d carried Audrey the whole way to Fallon’s house on my back, her wheelchair clamped in my mouth, my clothes squashed firmly between her and my pelt. It was still dark out when we’d left Dr. Phan’s so no one would see us. Audrey didn’t want me to wait with her; she told me to stay hidden behind the trees.
Actually, she told me to go climb up one of them and not come down until she gave me a sign. Trouble is, she never said what that sign was. She just sort of wheeled herself up to the front of Fallon’s house and sat there while the sky changed from black to purple to bruise-colored. Instead of hiding in a tree, though, I sat on the roof of the workshop.
And then Fallon came out. She looked surprised – I felt surprised – but she also looked happy. And she looked confused. I guess that’s kind of understandable at six in the morning. What did I expect from her anyway? She wasn’t gonna treat Audrey the same way she treated me if I’d shown up at her house at six in the morning. She’d probably think that I was stalking her or something.
Because yeah…it did sound kinda stalkerish.
Kinda like sitting on the roof of her workshop, watching her talk to my kid sister and listening in to see if she said anything about me.
“Stupid,” I breathed as I watched them drive away. “I’m so stupid.”
And of course nothing proved it more than following the truck. I ran in the grass, my clothes tucked in my mouth, my ears pricked up to hear the truck’s every sound. It wasn’t like I was gonna lose it – there was only one main road on the rock – but I didn’t want to get ahead, or fall too far behind just in case…
Just in case what? The truck broke down? The girl could probably fix the problem before I got my jeans on.
Then what? Just in case Brenda attacked them again?
But…she’d taken care of herself then, too.
I didn’t get a chance to figure any of it out because they’d already driven past the maze and were heading closer and closer to town. I had to stop, change back into my human shape, and pull my clothes on before the grass ran out. By the time I was done picking the grass out of my hair and underwear, the truck was parked in front of one of the inns…and it was empty.
Maybe they’d gone into the inn to have some breakfast. Part of me wanted to go inside and make sure. But I didn’t. Instead, I waited outside, leaning against the hood of that old, beaten up truck. I watched the trogs walk by, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t look at them as food.
Well…most of them anyway. There was this one guy who looked like he could spare a thigh or two.
“I can’t believe you found a place that serves bacon waffles as part of its buffet,” a voice laughed, crisp and clear like a bell in my head.
“I was passing by the other day and saw that they’d added it to their menu,” Audrey said, her voice sweet and thoughtful. She hadn’t spoken to me like that in weeks. It was like anything was possible when she sounded like that.
“I think I must’ve eaten a good ton of them, plus a good pound of sausage. I almost forgot what real sausage tastes like.”
“Yeah, but that was turkey sausage-”
Fallon’s laugh was loud, and I found myself smiling at the sound of it. “I don’t care! It didn’t have sardines in it!”
They were approaching the truck, Fallon walking, Audrey pushing herself. Both stopped as soon as they saw me, their laughter following soon after.
“Iiiiiiiiiiii’mmmmmmm gonna go and see how Grans is doing,” Audrey said before rolling away faster than she should have, cutting through the walkway and flying across the st
reet.
Fallon and I stared after her before turning to look at each other. Whatever happiness that bacon and turkey sausage gave her was gone, and I was the reason for it. She began to walk to the driver’s side, but I moved in front of her, taking advantage of my speed and her limp. “Fallon, we need to talk.”
“Look, if you’re expecting thanks or something for staying with me…thanks.”
She tried to walk past me but I knew if I let her go, I wasn’t going to get another chance. This was go time.
So I grabbed her, picked her up, and sat her on the hood of the truck. She went off like a firecracker, squirming and shouting at me, but I held her down. “Fallon, stop.”
“Stop? Oh, I’ll stop. I’ll stop when you stop being an ass-faced jerk,” she spat.
“Please,” I said softly. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at showing my emotions-”
She kicked, her glare oddly directed elsewhere. “That’s funny. I’ve seen you be cold, selfish, rude, inconsiderate, controlling, heinous, ungrateful-”
I put my hand over her mouth, but yanked it back when I felt her tongue on my palm as she prepared to bite. “Okay, okay. I get it. I was a jerk. I’m sorry-”
“No, you weren’t just a jerk. You were an ass-faced jerk,” she corrected, her eyes staring over my head. Or maybe at my forehead; I couldn’t tell.
“Okay, I was an ass-faced jerk. But I’m asking you to give me another chance.”
Finally, she looked at me, and it was like I’d just confessed to killing every puppy and kitten alive. Everywhere. Ever. “Do I look stupid to you?”
“Huh?”
“Do I look stupid to you?”
Confused, I shook my head. “No.”
“So why would you think that I’d be dumb enough to give you another chance? Every single time I was nice to you, every single time I helped you out, you treated me like dirt. From day one-”
I interrupted her, my guilt eating at my common sense. “I know. I screwed up. From the first day to the last day, I’ve done nothing but screw up. And I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m kinda stubborn, and I think I can change your mind.”
Her head shook, almost violently, the vibrations reaching my arms and traveling to my feet. “Sorry, that’s not gonna happen.”
She moved her hand to scratch at her neck, and I saw the bandage shift under her fingers. “You shouldn’t scratch that. Rub, instead.”
“Oh, so now you’re an expert on stitches?” she asked snidely.
I snorted and turned my face, making sure she saw my scar. “I might know a thing or two.”
When she didn’t say anything, I began to turn my head back toward her, but my eyes caught something that made me smile. She was wearing a pair of cut off shorts, her legs bare until her knees, where the tops of knee-high, neon rainbow-colored socks began. They traveled down her calves and disappeared under fluorescent yellow sneakers.
“Nice,” I told her.
“Shut-up,” she snapped back.
Suddenly, a stupid idea popped into my head. I knew it was a stupid idea because, well, it just was. It was the dumbest idea I’d had since…I’d kissed her in front of everyone at Kimble’s. But I didn’t regret doing that. Not even with the punches she threw at me. In fact, just thinking about that made me want to do a lot more things that I wouldn’t regret.
So I did.
Quickly, before she had a chance to struggle or even know what I was doing, I took off her shoe and then her sock. I looked at her leg, the bandages that the sock had hidden, and I touched it as gently as I could. She was soft, softer than anything I’d felt in a long time. And then I was backing away.
“Hey!” she hollered. “Give my shoe and sock back!”
I began to walk away, calling over my shoulder to her with each step. “I’ll give them back when you forgive me.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Hey, I’m already an inconsiderate, cold, ungrateful, selfish, unfeeling, ass-faced jerk. Crazy isn’t gonna make that big of a difference right now,” I shouted.
I heard the hood of the truck unbuckle from her weight and I knew she was following. I didn’t stop walking, though; let her catch up to me.
But she didn’t. Or, rather, she did, but she didn’t stop. She kept going, walking past me.
“Hey!” I called out to her, watching her move weirdly, like a lopsided duck down the walkway. The trogs who were in her way just moved aside, stopping to watch her curiously as she stormed past them. I admit, I kinda puffed up with pride at the way she didn’t let anyone get in her way. “Fallon! What about your stuff?”
“Keep’m!” she shouted, not looking back. “They’re not worth looking like an idiot again.”
I stopped.
Guilt feels like crap. It feels like the biggest turd you’ve ever stepped in. It stinks, it covers you in its funk, and you can’t do anything about it until you figure out a way to step out of it. But the only thing I seemed to know how to do was step in it. I’d just done it again and didn’t even realize it until I saw the bottom of Fallon’s dirty feet lift up as she took another step away from me.
“I really am an ass-faced jerk.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
FALLON
I was the biggest idiot ever.
Why did I let him take my shoe? Why did I let him take my sock? And why the hell was I walking away from the truck?
If I was driving, no one would see my bare foot.
“But then I’d have to turn around and he might still be there,” I said out loud.
No. I had to go and be stubborn and prove to him that I didn’t care about my shoe or about my sock because then it would prove that I didn’t care about him. And I didn’t.
I really, really didn’t.
I really didn’t care…about my shoe. Or my sock. Or him.
Why should I care about him anyway? Him holding my hand in a veterinarian’s office for a few hours wouldn’t make me forget how he’d treated me since the moment I got here. Even Mom said that I should be thankful but nothing else.
But him holding my hand had felt so natural, so…nice…
“Shut-up!”
“Excuse me!” an old woman with pale pink hair said with a huff as she stormed past me.
“I didn’t mean you!” I called out after her, but it didn’t matter. I looked around and saw the faces of complete strangers, their bodies greased up with sunblock, looking at me as if my face was on some wanted poster somewhere for doing something insane, like talking to myself while walking half-barefoot in public.
Ugh…what the hell was it about Liam Mace that made me so freaking crazy? It’s not like he’s the cutest guy I’d ever seen; Josh would win that contest every single time. And it’s not like he’s the most romantic guy on the planet – what the hell is romantic about taking someone’s shoe anyway?
And he sucked at fixing cars. I mean, come on! Who could look at that battery and not know what the hell was wrong with it? How could I like anyone who didn’t know to fix a stupid battery corrosion problem?
But…he did love his sister. That was a plus. I’d never forget how worried he’dlooked when she had her seizure. The fear in his eyes had burned itself into my mind. It was proof that he cared more for her than anyone.
It was the same fear I saw when I woke up in the clinic.
“Oh, whatever!” He didn’t care about me. Not like that. No matter what his stupid, scarred-up, handsome face had to say.
Except…he didn’t have to be there, stay there. And he definitely didn’t have to do it holding my hand. Stupidly, I looked down at my hand and watched my fingers clench as though maybe, just maybe, they’d remember what it had felt like. Because you’re supposed to remember something like that…that first time you held someone’s hand, felt their palm touching yours. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t remember any of it.
What I did remember was him lifting me up onto the truck, the way his hands felt strong and hot on my waist. I could see
his eyes as he asked me to give him another chance. They were more green than gold today, with a really dark gold ring right around the pupil. I could probably see all of his secrets if I stared into his eyes long enough.
Which is probably why I couldn’t look at him for too long; I didn’t want to know his secrets. I didn’t want to know because something inside of me was scared. I was terrified, actually. What if…what if he didn’t like me? What if he hated me and was only doing this because of Audrey? Then that would mean that what I felt when his hands were on my leg – that flash of fire and ice that knew, just knew how to reach my heart – was nothing. That it meant…nothing.
My eyes started to burn. “Oh my God, really?” I slapped my fingers against my eyes to try and stop the teasing tears. What the hell was wrong with me? So what if it meant nothing! We’d never shared a single, meaningful moment so how could anything that happened between us mean anything at all?
My heart stuttered in my chest at the memory of his kiss. That kiss meant more than something. It meant everything. I could still feel it, like no time had passed at all. Liam hadn’t been gentle. It wasn’t a romantic kiss, but it changed things inside of me. If my first kiss ever with Josh was like seeing things with new eyes, then my first kiss with Liam was like walking into a whole new world. Kisses aren’t supposed to do that to you.
But you couldn’t base a relationship on a kiss. Especially when the person who kissed you probably hated your guts.
“Ugh, dammit, I should have looked in his eyes!” I realized then that I’d stopped walking. Again. Thankfully, no one was staring at me talking to myself.
Now I had to know. I had to know how he felt. If he hated me, then nothing’s changed. I could live with him hating me…maybe. Eventually how I felt about him would fade. It had to.
“But what if he doesn’t hate me? What if…what if he likes me?”
My face grew hot at the question, but more so because of the things I imagined we’d do if he did. Holding his hand, feeling him touch my legs again, kissing him…
My mind made up, I turned around. He’d still be at the truck. At least, I hoped he would be. I needed him to be.