by Edie Claire
My parents finished the rest of the drive talking mainly to each other, which was a relief. I knew that my mother suspected I was keeping something from her, and that she expected—at the very least—a more detailed accounting of how I had been spending my "alone" time. I could hardly blame her. But mercifully, she did not raise the subject in the car. Most likely because she figured she'd have better luck interrogating me on her own.
I used the downtime, instead, to placate Tara and Kylee.
Thanx for waiting. Walk on beach after dance was nice. You are psychic—yes, he kissed me. On way with parents to dinner at his house. Not sure how I feel, but like him a lot. I am SO not used to hanging out with a jock!
I must have rewritten the text twenty times before I sent it. It was all true, but the tone was a lie. I sounded happy and excited, which is how I figured I should feel. I couldn't describe in a thousand texts the hopelessly confused, murky muddle of excitement, hope, sadness, and raw terror that was actually coursing through me.
Their responses were immediate.
KNEW IT!! Kali's 1st real kiss! Don’t worry jocks can b sweet!
That's exciting! Meeting the parents already? Wow! This guy must be super serious!
I frowned, realizing I hadn't explained the parent connection very well. I hadn't explained anything very well, but that couldn't be helped. I could satisfy their curiosity only after I had a very long return flight over the Pacific during which to think up some version of events that actually made sense.
I tried, for a moment, to focus only on Matt and my feelings for him—or what I might be feeling if I weren't otherwise so distracted.
My dad knows his dad. I've never met a guy like Matt before. He seems really into me, and his friends say he's never been serious about anybody. But he's sweet and honest and really good looking. Whole thing seems surreal.
I hit send without trying to overthink. The phone buzzed again within seconds.
U are SO set, girl! Hang onto this 1! J
Kylee's rampant enthusiasm always made me smile. But Tara's response was unexpected.
I know I usually advise caution in such situations… but what the heck? Jock is a stereotype. You have good instincts. Follow them. Luv U, Tar
I replaced the phone in my bag, feeling oddly adrift. I would have been much more comfortable if Tara had started spouting off statistics on athletes and domestic violence. Having the all-wise, no-nonsense Tara trust my judgment in a matter of the heart would have pleased me… if I trusted my own judgment. But how could I?
I had kissed Matt less than twenty-four hours ago. Right now all I could think about was Zane.
"This is it!" my father declared in his military voice, making me jump in my seat. The time to Honolulu had flown by—I had not even realized we were close.
We piled out of the car and headed for the front door of a modest one-story house with a small front yard, but what appeared to be a monstrous deck looking over a lush hillside out back. Smoke curled around the side of the house as the delicious scent of smoldering charcoal met our noses.
"Good eating tonight!" My father mused, ringing the bell. "Keith said he liked to barbecue."
The door was opened almost immediately by a big, handsome guy with bright blue eyes and a broad smile. It took me an unforgivably long moment to realize it was Matt.
"So, how's it going, Kali?" he asked a few moments later, when the introductions (and apologies) were over and he had managed to steer me aside. We were standing on his deck, ostensibly checking the grill. The aroma was mouthwatering; the view exotic and lovely. By Cheyenne standards, all the houses in Honolulu were small and packed way too close together, but when one had what was practically a rain forest ascending up a steep green slope into the clouds mere feet from one's door, such disadvantages could be overlooked. "You look kind of freaked out," he continued good-naturedly. "My dad doesn't scare you, does he? I mean, he scares a lot of people, but I figured you'd already be used to that."
To my surprise, I chuckled. "No, your dad doesn't scare me. If you can put up with mine, we're cool." Having a father who tends to intimidate your friends was part of being a military brat. It was nice that Matt understood.
I met his eyes, which looked friendly and open as usual, and wished I could tell him the truth about my day. But there wasn't a soul alive I could share that with.
"I got in the ocean a little bit this afternoon, and it did freak me out, seeing as how I can't swim," I explained, attempting a shred of honesty. "But I was only knee-deep in a cove. What have you been up to?"
He shrugged. "Same old, same old. Working out. Getting texts from Lacey yelling at me because Ty took off to that ultimate Frisbee tournament."
I grinned. Lacey's texts on the topic would be colorful, I was sure. "You told him about that?"
"Hell, no!" Matt protested. "Dude doesn't need me for that. I think he was already planning to go. He just didn't want to tell Lace about it. Last thing I need is to get in the middle of their business."
"Do they get along okay?" I probed, realizing it wasn't any of my business either, but curious nevertheless. I was hoping Lacey and I could get to be buds when I got back.
"Ty and Lace?" Matt responded. "Yeah, I guess so. They've been together forever." He paused a moment, looking thoughtful. "Actually, if you want the truth, I think it's pretty lousy between them. Ty's a good guy and all, but he takes her for granted."
I leaned in attentively, hoping for more. Nothing gave a better window into what a guy thought about relationships than listening to him talk about his friends. But apparently, all Matt had to say on the subject, he had already said.
Our conversation turned, as it so often did, to sports, and within a few minutes we had been summoned back inside for some obligatory socializing. I liked Matt's parents, whose casual attitude toward dinner and life in general was much like my own parents', and I was amused by the self-absorption of his older sister, who barely said three words to anyone as she rummaged about the house looking for sunglasses and car keys and some other, unidentified item that was apparently ultracrucial to the hot date she was already late for. It was enough to keep my mind sufficiently occupied that I could—at least for a little while—stop worrying so much about what was happening to Zane.
There was still, however, the matter of the Buddha shadow.
He wasn't a real Buddha, of course, just a really fat, middle-aged Asian looking man who happened to be sitting cross-legged on the floor, barefoot and shirtless. I might have been able to tune him out if the dining room were bigger, or if he were smaller, but the fact that his corpulent form sat staring at me about eighteen inches from my assigned chair was maddening. The man did absolutely nothing during the entire meal but glower—and occasionally belch—in an endless, revolting loop of wasted ectoplasm. The only emotion I could sense from him was a vague disgust, which was doubly annoying given that his eyes were trained solidly in my direction.
Gift, indeed, I thought irritably as the Buddha burped so loudly it drowned out the punchline of Matt's mother's joke about grocery shopping on the island. What possible emotional turning point could this be for the man? For anyone?
I would never understand the shadows.
The belching Buddha was so distracting that I could barely engage in the conversation like an intelligent person, and after the third time I had to ask Matt's mother to repeat something, I started worrying that his parents would think I was either partially deaf or—worse—some kind of flake. Luckily Matt, who was seated across from me, had no such trouble. He seemed perfectly at ease fraternizing with my parents—seeming, in fact, to enjoy it—and judging from the look on my father's face I had no doubt the man had us mentally married already… pending Matt's graduation from The Academy, of course. Only when the conversation broke into two, with the women talking schools and the men talking real estate, did Matt turn his undivided attention back to me.
He didn't say anything, two simultaneous conversations being enough fo
r the small table, even without the noxious burps only I could hear. But I could guess what he was thinking. It was in his body language, and the smile behind his eyes. He wanted to be closer to me. He wanted an excuse to deliver another of his friendly hugs, or to slide an arm around my waist. He couldn't seem to come up with one, given the company. But, as if to prove my powers of observation correct, he slid a foot over beneath the table and bumped it up against mine. "Doing okay?" he mouthed.
I smiled and nodded. His foot stayed where it was, and so did mine.
The doorbell rang, and Matt's father excused himself to go get it. Playing footsie under the table made me feel like a small child misbehaving, but the sensation was too pleasant to give up. There was something to be said for the power of a friendly touch.
"Matt?" the Colonel announced, returning and taking his seat. "Rod Lee's out front for you."
A dry lump rose in my throat. I swallowed.
Rod? Here now?
"Okay," Matt said matter-of-factly, swinging his legs out from under the table and rising. He offered a perfunctory wink in my direction, then headed off toward the front door.
"Excuse me," I mumbled weakly, wiping my mouth with a napkin. I would have made more explanation, but I had none to give. I only knew I was going to see what was up, no matter what anyone thought. Luckily for me, the adults' conversation continued without concern.
Why on earth would Rod confront Matt here? I had been so sure I had gotten through to him…
Heart pounding, I swept through the folds of shadow fat engulfing the only route out of my chair, and followed Matt as he went out the open door and stepped onto his front lawn.
Rod was waiting on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, one foot idly kicking a small stone off the concrete and onto the grass. He was dressed in nice jeans and a school jersey; his hair was neatly combed.
"Hey, man," he said casually.
"Hey," Matt returned, his own tone slightly stiffer.
My eyes darted nervously from one to the other. I was still standing in the doorway; if Rod noticed me there, he gave no indication of it. And if Matt's dad hadn't announced the name, I might not recognize him, either. The burning anger I had felt from him so acutely last night was gone, and its absence had changed his entire aura. Although I was sure he was still awash with emotion, there was nothing left that I could feel. I could read him no better, or worse, than I could anyone else.
"Hey, uh…" Rod continued uncomfortably. "You might hear some stuff about last night. I was pretty messed up. You know—about Sofia."
My body tensed. I didn't know what Rod was up to, but I didn't like the fact that his hands were hidden in his pockets. Still, he seemed… well, calm.
He took an exaggerated breath. "I know you didn't have nothing to do with it," he said seriously, looking Matt straight in the face. Then his lips twisted into a smirk. "Should have known that all along. Wuss like you couldn't beat up a fourth grader."
"Wouldn't be fair," Matt quipped, his tone even. "Not since second grade, anyway."
Rod's smirk deepened. "I just wanted to make sure we were cool, you know?"
I couldn't see Matt's expression. But I was proud of his words.
"Sure, man. We're cool."
Rod's face broke, unaccountably, into the faintest of genuine smiles. The effect was transforming; he looked like another person entirely from the knife-wielding maniac of last night. This Rod was rational. This Rod also was, now that I had the inclination to notice, quite devilishly cute.
"Awright," he returned, taking a step closer to Matt and extending his arm in the air. The guys didn't shake, though—what followed was some weird, football player thing that started with fists and ended with a shoulder bump, one-half the force of which would have sent me sprawling into the grass.
My eyes rolled. Guys.
"Hey, Kalia," Rod said offhandedly, noticing me for the first time—or maybe not—in the doorway. I stepped out onto the lawn beside Matt, intrigued by his use of my whole name. Being a local, he must have heard it before and assumed it from my nickname. I liked the sound of it.
"Didn't expect to see you here," he continued, glancing sideways at Matt. "But whatever. Look, what you said… about that number?"
The domestic abuse hotline? I nodded.
"I looked it up and gave it to Sofia's mom. She's going to try to get her to call."
I felt a flush of warmth. "That's fabulous," I said sincerely. "I hope it helps."
Rod's dark eyes met mine, and in their depths I could see a flicker of gratitude—a gratitude that would go unspoken. That was fine by me.
An awkward silence followed. Rod took a step back. "Well, that's all, man," he said, his attention back on Matt. "Later."
"Later," Matt returned.
We watched as Rod walked away down the street. There was no Mustang in sight. "Does he live near here?" I asked.
"About a half mile that way," Matt said, tossing his head to the west. Then he looked down at me and smiled. The subject of Rod, I knew, was already off his mind.
He pulled me into a quick bear hug—an undemanding, comforting gesture that felt so good my eyes watered. It lasted for only a second or two, but I didn't want it to end. Maybe just because I had had such an emotional day, and any strong arms would do. Maybe because I was so frustrated at not being able to comfort Zane the same way. Or maybe, because I cared about Matt for his own sake.
I honestly had no idea.
Matt released me, but kept one arm loosely around my shoulders. We were still standing in front of his house with the door wide open, and he made no attempt to kiss me. Given my present state of mind, I was grateful.
"Been wanting to do that all evening," he said lightly. "So… you're coming back into Honolulu tomorrow to see a house?"
I nodded. My eyes were still watery, and I didn't entirely trust my voice. But Matt didn't seem to notice.
"I tell you what," he continued. "I've got dibs on the car tomorrow. How about if I come up to the North Shore and pick you up… say, around noon? We can do lunch, and I can show you a few more things around Honolulu. Then I'll take you to meet your parents at the house. I'd do dinner instead, but I have practice tomorrow night. What do you say?"
His arm around my shoulders was warm and solid, his blue eyes optimistic and sincere. A couple more hours of Honolulu sightseeing did sound like fun, and I had no good reason not to go. No reason except a creeping, uneasy feeling that lay somewhere between guilt and fear of impending doom.
Neither made any sense to me. Both my mind and my heart were all over the place, and I stood there, not answering, like a total flake. Only this time I couldn't blame the belching Buddha.
Matt looked at me for a moment, waiting patiently for an answer. Then he hugged me to his side and dropped a kiss on the top of my hair. "You can think about it for a while if you want to," he said easily. "No pressure." He dropped his arm and turned as if to walk back into the house.
I stopped him with a hand on his wrist, my stupid eyes getting watery again. "I don't need to think about it," I answered. "Tomorrow sounds great."
Chapter 20
I knew my mother planned to corner me. It was only a matter of when and where. The when turned out to be as soon as we reached the condo and my father headed into the bathroom for a shower. The where turned out to be the deck, on which I was pacing anxiously, searching for Zane.
"All right, Kali," she began, closing the doors behind her and seating herself at the table. "Let's have it. I don't know why you've been so secretive lately, but it's not like you, and that worries me. You've met somebody here on the beach, haven't you? Somebody you'd rather your father and I didn't know about?"
I drew in a deep breath. My mind turned cartwheels. I had been thinking all day about what I could say to her, and I hadn't come up with a thing. But her theory—which, for the record, was amazingly accurate—provided a helpful idea. "I told you I met some other kids my age who were tourists," I began carefully. "Up at
Turtle Bay. I've enjoyed hanging out with them because they're fun; they make me laugh. But they're… not like my usual friends."
I was doing well. If you forgave my inaccurate use of the plural, it was almost all true. Which was fortunate, because I was a whole lot better at white lies than bald-faced ones.
"And why not?" my mother inquired. "What's so terrible about them that you felt like you couldn't tell us?"
A tougher question.
I bit my lip.
Sweet inspiration. "Some of the things they do are… well… dangerous," I explained, picturing in my mind Zane's balancing act on the tail of the glider. I felt a strong urge to smile, but squelched it. "Not that I ever did anything dangerous—you know me, I'm a total wuss around the water."
Whoops. A partial lie. Zane did send me in the ocean after that toddler…
"What are we talking about, Kali?" my mother interrupted. "Drinking? Drugs? Something else illegal?"
"No," I said, immediately wishing I hadn't. If I had any sense I would let her make up her own story. "I mean, nothing like that around me. But they're just not the type of people…"
My heart suddenly skipped a beat. Zane was on the deck, standing behind my mother. He was filmy and only partially solid, but he was here.
"Let's just say if I had a daughter my age, I wouldn't want her hanging around with them," I finished, releasing a pent-up breath with a whoosh. I wanted to throw a Zane secret I don't mean you look, but couldn't take the risk.
"Then maybe you shouldn't be hanging out with them," my mother suggested mildly.
"Probably not," I agreed. "But it's really not an issue anymore. They're leaving tomorrow."
The words passed my lips on a wave of sadness so fierce it nearly caused my knees to buckle. Please, no. I didn't mean that about you, either.