Missing at 17

by Christine Conradt

  “If he beats you up, he’s gonna have to beat me up too,” Toby assured him, feeling some solidarity with his cousin. Keenan was the closest thing Toby had ever had to a brother and he didn’t want to see him get hurt.

  “Shit,” Keenan said without looking up. “He will anyway. You got twenty-one, by the way.”

  We couldn’t be more different, Toby thought as he stared at Candace’s perfectly smooth skin and the delicate gold bracelet that hung from her wrist. He pictured what her life must’ve been like when she woke up this morning. Probably in some big, comfy bed with cushy pillows from one of those expensive home goods stores in the mall where a set of sheets costs a hundred bucks or more. Her mom probably makes breakfast every morning and asks her if she wants juice with her coffee that comes from a machine where you use pods to make one cup at a time. Most people he knew would think she’s a spoiled brat, he thought. But Toby felt like he could see beyond all that. Inside her picture-perfect exterior was a girl who was trapped in a life she didn’t want, as comfortable as it was. She was surrounded by pretty things but also all kinds of ugliness and she was looking for something different. In his heart, Toby had been looking for something different, too.

  Ian’s goofy smile stared up at Candace, who made a gagging noise as she handed the phone to Toby. Seeing his face still sent hot barbs through Candace’s stomach.

  “That’s him,” she said as Toby held up the vodka bottle. She shook her head no. Candace still had a few swallows left in her glass, but she’d given up on trying to finish her drink. She didn’t want to get sick and one more drink would’ve put her over the edge. Getting wasted to the point of throwing up was not the way to impress a guy. No amount of mints can fix vomit breath. Gross. Toby poured one for himself as he turned his attention to her phone. She watched him study the picture, wondering if he would feel even a little bit jealous of Ian. Instead he just scoffed.

  “You are way too hot for this guy. What were you thinking?”

  She grinned at the compliment and leaned in sloppily. As she moved, the booze in her glass sloshed around precariously, so Toby took it from her hand and set it on the nightstand.

  “You think I’m hot?” she said, teasing him.

  “I think you’re very hot,” he said. “And I think you can do better than some skinny high school jock.” He pressed his face closer to hers.

  “Do you have someone specific in mind?” she said, stumbling a little over the words.

  Toby laughed. “I might.”

  “Show me what ya got,” she said. Any inhibitions she had earlier were long gone. Toby stood and peeled off his T-shirt, revealing the top half of a perfectly ridged body. Not an ounce of fat covered his toned abs and thick chest.

  Holy crap, Candace thought as she took in his strong arms and wide shoulders. Ian had a nice build, but he was only seventeen. Toby, on the other hand, looked like a man. Candace, who had felt sassy and in control moments before, found herself awkwardly quiet. Toby knelt down beside her.

  “Do I pass?”

  Candace nodded slowly, unable to take her eyes off the tattoo that covered Toby’s left pec. It was a demon beheading a grim reaper, and it gave her something to look at rather than letting her gaze rove back and forth over his naked torso.

  Toby smiled and leaned in. He paused momentarily to see if she’d move back. When she didn’t, he kissed her gently on the lips at first, then harder. He slid his tongue into her mouth and within seconds, they’d fallen back onto his bed, where he pulled her on top of him and they continued to kiss.

  This is what a kiss is supposed to be like, Candace thought as she pressed her palms against the inside of Toby’s hard biceps. There was no slobber, no dying-fish flapping; just Toby’s perfect tongue, which barely slid between her lips before retreating back into his perfect mouth.

  It didn’t take long before the drunken haze that had overtaken Candace’s state of mind affected her body, too. As she let her hands glide down his smooth chest to the top of his jeans, she started to feel the room spinning. Before she knew it, nausea set in and she was scared she was going to be sick. Candace rolled off Toby and stared up at the ceiling.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I drank too much,” she said tightly, trying to stay as still as possible.

  “Are you gonna puke?” She could hear the alarm in his voice.

  “I don’t know. Don’t say ‘puke.’ It makes it worse.”

  Why is this happening to me? She silently seethed at the universe. Finally, she had a chance to make out with one of the sexiest guys she’d ever met and her stupid stomach had other ideas? Was life just a series of cruel jokes? Why didn’t she stop drinking sooner?

  Toby stood up. “I’ll get you some water,” he said, and walked out of the room. Candace closed her eyes and tried to imagine a cool sea breeze blowing against her face. Her mother had taught her that when she was a little girl and had become sick with the flu.

  “Imagine a cool burst of air rolling off the ocean and hitting you right in the cheeks,” her mom had said as Candace lay on the sofa, an empty trash can standing by. The imagery helped keep her mind of the awful nauseated feeling in her gut. Candace tried to visualize the crashing waves and a mist of sea spray. But that’s as far as she got. Candace passed out.

  Toby hurried down the hall and poked his head through the open bedroom door. The girl that was giving the lap dance earlier was now asleep under the sheets, and the guy who had been enjoying it was taking a hit off a small water bong.

  “Keenan!” Toby said as he passed his cousin, grabbed the little white plastic trash can in the corner, and yanked the garbage out of it. “I need this!” Dropping the garbage bag on the floor, he caught a glimpse of Keenan’s shrug as he raced out the door. He could still hear the gurgle of the bong rip all the way into the living room.

  As Toby slid into the kitchen, he practically pushed partygoers out of the way in an effort to throw open the cupboard. There were no clean glasses. Only a chipped coffee mug that would have to do.

  As he filled the mug with tap water, Keenan’s friend Pedro leaned against the counter next to him, a compact mirror in his hand. “Gray hair already. Can you believe that?” Pedro, who had never been particularly vain or interested in his appearance, ruffled his fingers over the crown of his hair, trying to show Toby the gray.

  “That’s what a hard life does to you,” Toby joked back.

  “That’s what kids do to you, man. You start worrying about shit you never worried about before.” Toby chuckled. He knew Pedro was kidding. Pedro loved his little daughter and proudly showed pictures of her to anyone who would look. “Seriously though, no one told me I’d be gray by twenty-eight. That’s early, right?”

  “You tell me, old man.” Toby smirked and adjusted the faucet to make the water colder.

  “Where’s your cousin?” Pedro asked in his low, guttural voice.

  “In his bedroom,” Toby said, feeling the water and grimacing that it was still too warm. He dumped the water out and started to refill the cup.

  “Did he talk to you yet about the opportunity?”

  “Huh?” Toby was only half listening. “No.”

  “He will. Listen to what he has to say,” Pedro instructed, a sly smile on his hardened face.

  “Sure,” Toby uttered before shutting off the faucet and hurrying back into the hall. He was on a mission to get Candace everything she needed before she spewed vomit all over his bedroom. Besides that, he wasn’t too interested in what Pedro wanted to discuss. Although Pedro was cordial, Toby didn’t like him much. Pedro and Keenan became friends when they met up in County after Keenan had been arrested for, according to him, “being at the wrong place at the wrong time,” and Pedro was serving sixty days on a battery charge. Apart, trouble seemed to follow each of them around. It was triple when they were together.

  When Toby reached the bedroom with the trash can and the water, Keenan was already standing just inside the door ogling Candace, wh
o had passed out on the bed. Toby didn’t like the way his cousin’s eyes didn’t move from her slightly parted thighs and the mini skirt that had inadvertently worked its way up her hips. He stepped protectively between his cousin and Candace, facing Keenan.

  Keenan instinctively stepped back.

  “Nice job, man,” Keenan said, keeping his voice at a whisper. “She’s hot as hell.”

  Toby set down the water and trash can. “What’s up?” he asked.

  “I gotta talk to you about something Pedro told me tonight.”

  “Not now. Later.”

  “Dude, it’s big.”

  “I’m interested. Just not right now.” Toby nodded to the door, wanting Keenan to leave them alone. “Beat it.”

  Keenan, irritated, walked out. Toby looked down at Candace and gently pulled a few strands of hair from her face. Then he climbed into bed next to her and softly caressed her smooth cheek.

  Man, this girl is just beautiful, he thought. It was no secret how much she turned him on. He wished she hadn’t passed out, but he certainly wasn’t going to try anything the way Keenan would have. He wasn’t that type. Toby saw himself as a pretty decent guy and tonight, he was going to prove it. He’d made a promise to Candace that nothing would happen, and he intended to keep that promise. She’d had a rough week and he was determined to make it at least a little better.

  Rolling over, his mind drifted to Keenan. He wondered what Pedro and his cousin wanted to “talk to him” about. It was most likely something illegal and dangerous. Those two liked big risks and big rewards. Not Toby. Sure, he’d done some bad stuff in his twenty-three years, but nothing like that. Nothing where someone could physically get hurt—just petty scams, check kiting, that type of low-level stuff. The few felonies he’d committed were only considered so because of the value of the items he’d stolen: expensive motorcycles and bikes, a couple of cars.

  He propped his head up on his arm and studied Candace’s peaceful features. He wondered what tomorrow would bring for this little runaway with a fiery personality and sarcastic wit. Probably nothing. She’d probably decide that one night on the other side of the tracks was enough and go back home to the sleepy suburbs where kids with brand-new bikes rode down the picket-fence-lined streets. And he’d probably never see her again.

  Oh well. Toby sighed to himself. He couldn’t blame her. But that was tomorrow. Tonight, she was here with him. He couldn’t give her much but he could prove to her that sometimes the world, or at least a stranger, could be kind.

  With that thought lingering in his mind, Toby put an arm around Candace’s waist, pulled her tightly against his chest, and fell asleep.

  Six

  The Morning After

  Candace felt a gentle tug on her foot and opened her eyes to see Toby, shirtless, standing at the foot of the bed. His toned abs disappeared into the waist of faded, fraying pajama pants and he was holding a glass that had some type of thick red liquid in it.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he said.

  She looked up at him, confused for a moment before it registered where she was. She instantly sat up, looking down to see if she was still wearing her clothes.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, a little hurt. “I told you nothing would happen. Are you hungover?”

  Candace nodded. Hungover was an understatement. Her head was pounding and she’d never been so thirsty in her life. It was a miserable feeling.

  “Very,” she managed to utter, realizing she also had a sore throat.

  “Here,” he said, handing her the strange red concoction. “Drink this. It’ll help your head.”

  “What’s in it?” she asked as she skeptically sniffed it. It smelled like tomato juice, but looked a little paler.

  “We call it a red bud. Beer and tomato juice. Trust me. It works.” Figuring she couldn’t feel any worse than she already did, Candace took the drink and sipped it. Toby grabbed a T-shirt off a folded pile on the floor and slipped it on.

  “What time does your school start?”

  “I told you I’m not going back there,” she said, drinking more of the tomato stuff. It wasn’t as bad as she’d anticipated. When she had run out of her house yesterday, the only thing she’d been thinking about was how she wanted to get as far away from her mother as possible. But now, lying in Toby’s bed, it occurred to her that she didn’t have to follow any of her mother’s rules. She didn’t have to go home and she certainly didn’t have to go to school and deal with all the stares and whispers. She and her mother had been fighting so much the past few months, it was a relief to be away from the constant nagging.

  “So now you’re a dropout?” he said, half chiding her.

  “Pretty much.” The sassy, defiant Candace was back.

  “That’s a new record for being a bad influence. You’ve known me less than twenty-four hours.” Toby grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand and handed it to her. “Your mom’s been blowing up your phone all night. I had to turn the thing off.”

  “Good. Let her worry.”

  Toby shook his head with an amused look. While he grabbed deodorant from the dresser and shoved his hand up under his shirt, Candace reached down and with one finger, hooked a pack of cigarettes from the floor. Pulling one out, she popped it into her mouth.

  Toby reached over and plucked it from her lips.

  “Kiss me first.”

  Grinning, Candace leaned in and planted a long, soft kiss on Toby’s mouth, her hands on each side of his face. Then she sat back and raised an eyebrow.

  “That was more enthusiastic than I expected,” he said, smiling.

  “I’m full of surprises,” she said with a glimmer.

  Toby stuffed the cigarette back into the pack.

  “Today is the day you quit smoking, by the way.”

  “Says who?” Candace asked, surprised.

  “Says me. You’re too pretty to smoke.”

  Candace softened a little, appreciating the compliment. She was fairly sure the sore throat she had was from yesterday’s cigarette, and since she could count on one hand the number of times she’d ever had a cigarette anyway, she figured she’d give him an easy win.

  “And you’re too bossy. But I don’t mind,” she said flirtatiously.

  Toby grinned. “So . . . if you’re not going to school today and you’re not going home . . . what’s your plan?”

  “Can I hang out here? I’m sure you and I could find something to do. . . .” She kissed him again. The truth was, the more time she spent with Toby, the more she liked him. And she wanted a chance to get to know him better, see what it was like to live life in this world. It had to be better than the one she came from.

  He studied her for a moment, then stood up. “Okay. How about I take you out for breakfast, we go get your car, and then we can come back here and have a little fun . . . ?”

  Candace smiled, liking the agenda. “I say yes.”

  Thirty minutes later, Toby and Candace were sitting in a booth of a little breakfast joint, eating omelets. Toby stuffed a bite into his mouth and then picked up his phone to respond to a text. Candace observed him, intrigued.

  Eating breakfast in a restaurant on a school day made her feel like an adult with freedom. For the first time ever, Candace felt like she had choices. No one was telling her she had to sit through some lame class and listen to some godawful lecture about things that didn’t matter. Adults get to decide what they’re going to do each day, and today, like all the other people sitting in Gabby’s Diner, she’d decided—to skip school and order a Denver omelet, side of fruit salad, and a cup of coffee.

  “Fun playing hooky, isn’t it?” she asked as she popped a grape into her mouth.

  “I guess,” he responded without looking up. “I’m working as we sit here.”

  “What do you mean? What do you do?” Whatever his job was, she wanted it.

  “I’m a businessman.” He squinted at the phone, waiting for the next text to come in.

  That wasn’t
the answer she was expecting. Avery’s dad was a businessman and he was stuck in an office ten hours a day. Evidently, Avery’s dad had picked the wrong business.

  “Could you be more . . . vague?” she asked, making fun of him a little. He finally looked up at her, wiping his mouth with the paper napkin that had once been rolled around his fork and knife.

  “I loan people money when a bank won’t give ’em loans.”

  Candace pursed her lips. “You mean like a loan shark?” she asked.

  Toby chuckled.

  “No, silly. It’s called P2P lending. There’s risk involved but the returns are good.”

  Candace contemplated this for a moment as she picked up a strip of bacon and crunched off the end. She’d never heard of P2P lending but it sounded official and interesting.

  “Do you make a lot of money?”

  Toby studied her with a smile. “Why? You want me to buy you something already?”

  “Nooooo,” she said, laughing. “Just breakfast.” He’d better buy her breakfast because all she had in her purse was the same seven dollars and change from the night before.

  Toby grinned. “Is the interrogation over with? Or are we just on a break?” he inquired.

  “Nothing wrong with getting to know you better, right?” she said in a light tone, but in all honestly, she was serious. He intrigued her.

  “Nothing wrong with getting to me know me better, huh?” Toby repeated, and arched an eyebrow as if he wasn’t quite sure he agreed. Then, changing his mind, he put the cell phone down.

  “Okay. There’s somethin’ I’d like to ask.” He looked her square in the face.

  “Go ahead. Unlike you, I’m an open book.” She punctuated the last part by taking a bite of her apple wedge.

  “You said last night you hated your mom. Why?”

  Candace became more reserved, her mood darkening.

  The last thing she wanted to think about right now was her mom and her adoptive status.

  “I don’t remember saying that.”