by Barnes, Vivi
“I thought you were friends with her,” I say, irritated.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I’m friends with her.”
“Then why do you have to act like we’re in some covert operation? I’ve done fine on my own so far.”
I step around her to get to my bike, but she follows me. “Wait. Why are you acting like this?” She grabs my arm and studies me with wide eyes. “Oh my God, you like this girl. Like, really like. Holy shit! Someone actually cracked that hard shell.” She laughs and bounces on her heels as if she’s three and I just offered her a cookie.
“Shut up, Sam.” I yank my arm away and get on my bike.
Of course, she doesn’t shut up. “This is a first—Z actually falling for a girl.” She stops laughing and crosses her arms with a frown. “Seriously, though, you better not screw this up.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do. Don’t try to turn this into a real relationship thing. You’re going to end up hurting her, or she’s going to get mad and end up just like Jen. I like her too much for that. And what about Bill?”
“What about him?”
“You’re going to have to twist Liv soon or he’ll get pissed, and then we’ll both pay. So keep your heart out of it.”
“I can handle it.” I say the words with confidence, though I cringe inwardly. She’s right about that. Bill has his own expectations and if I fail…
Forget it. I start the engine and put my helmet on, drowning out Sam’s attempts at continuing this conversation. I can focus on my job like I’ve always done. I’ll crack that account Bill gave me, and he’ll be so happy, he’ll overlook everything else. No big deal. No failure.
No worries.
…
Liv
After several days of Z avoiding me, I can’t take it anymore. I refuse to let this consume me. I forgo the bus and corner him on his way out to the parking lot after school. He’s walking behind a large group of kids and can’t see me, which is perfect. I let the group pass by and step out in front of him. He looks up, surprised, then wary.
“Not right now, Liv. I’m in a hurry.”
“Really? You’re never in a hurry. And we need to talk.”
He frowns, but I couldn’t care less that my demands irritate him. He tries to walk around me, but I move over to block his path. He finally gives up and looks straight at me. “Look, I’m sorry. I just…I don’t think this is going to work out.”
“What? All we did was kiss, and you act like I popped the tires on your bike or something.” If I weren’t so pissed off, it’d be funny how much I downplay my first kiss. Even the thought of it makes my skin tingle, despite what happened after.
He looks away, but one corner of his mouth tugs up at my ridiculous analogy.
“Come on, talk to me. I’ve missed the bus now anyway because of you. So the way I see it, you owe me at least a ride.”
He taps his fingers against his leg for a moment, but then shrugs. “All right, I’ll take you home. That’s it, okay?”
“And we can talk?”
“Maybe.”
Z takes me on the short ride home, stopping at the rooster mailbox. I push myself off the bike, gesturing toward the house. “Come on.” He reluctantly cuts the motor and follows me up the path.
Inside the cool, dark house, I lead him to the kitchen and pour some glasses of iced tea.
“I’m guessing they like roosters,” he says, looking bemused at the decor.
“Denise does. She’s from the country and says they remind her of her childhood. Pretty creepy at first, but I’ve gotten used to them. Though I do have to turn them around when I change clothes; that way they don’t stare.” I laugh at his expression. “I’m kidding.”
I hand him a glass with a couple sugar packets and a spoon and we sit at the table in awkward silence for a couple minutes.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” I finally ask.
He wrinkles his forehead and takes a sip of the tea. “I don’t think… You’re not my type, I guess.” He’s not looking me in the eye.
“That’s not it. What is it?”
“I’m not right for you.”
Is he kidding me? I want to tell him he’s not my father, but instead I say, “Why? Because I said I’ve never kissed a guy? That’s stupid.” It’s hard, but I manage to keep my voice level.
His expression is hard, unrelenting. “Is this it? I need to get going.”
I scoot the chair until our knees are almost touching. I’m going to have to change tactics. “Okay, I do have one more question.” I cross my arms. “Do I disgust you?”
His eyes pop open wide. “Disgust me?”
“Yeah. We kiss, then you avoid me, don’t look at me, don’t talk to me. So either my breath grossed you out, you find me totally repulsive, or there’s something else going on. I deserve to know. No more games.”
He stares at me in silence, a conflict of emotions playing across his face. I start to worry that it really was my breath, when his eyes soften and he leans toward me. I don’t relax my posture, although my insides start spinning around violently at the change in his expression. He stops a couple inches from my face.
“You are the exact opposite of that for me.” He gently places his hand around my head and removes the remaining distance between us. This time, the kiss is soft, quick, almost a whisper touch against my lips. My spinning insides come to a complete halt; my heartbeat is the only thing racing now. He rests his forehead against mine. “This isn’t a good idea.”
I lean back slightly to catch his gaze. I have him now. I can see in his eyes that he’s fighting himself, not me. “I know you’re trying to tell me I shouldn’t get involved with you because you think you’re a bad influence. I know you have…things…going on. But I’m not a little kid, you know. I can make my own choices.”
“You don’t understand…”
I touch his lips with a finger, my heart skipping a beat when he closes his eyes. “Maybe I do. I may not have gone on dates and kissed and stuff, but I’m not new at this whole life thing. And I’m not into games, so stop playing them.”
He cradles my head again as he crushes his mouth hard against mine, for such a long, desperate moment that I wonder if I’ll ever breathe again. Or if I’ll even want to. His fingers slowly trail down my arms to tuck into the waistband of my jeans, tugging me to his lap. My arms slide across his shoulders as his lips move slowly, leisurely down my neck, resting at the hollow of my throat. I sigh and tilt my head back as he works his way back up to my mouth, sizzling my skin with his kisses.
My entire body is on fire…
“Olivia? What is going on in here?”
I jump off Z’s lap to see Derrick standing in the kitchen, mouth turned down in disapproval. Shit.
“Um, Derrick, this is Z. He’s in my class at school.”
“Z, huh? You’re the one who’s tutoring her?”
“Yes, sir.” Z stands up and stretches out his hand, which I’m not surprised Derrick ignores.
“And this is how you tutor? I think this is the end of the sessions. You need to leave now,” he says, his jaw twitching furiously.
Z looks at me and I nod briefly, my heart sinking. I walk him out the front door in silence and pull it shut firmly behind me, which I know is going to irritate Derrick even more. I walk Z down the path to his bike.
“Sorry I got you in trouble there,” he says, fingering my locket and sending shivers through my body at his touch.
“I’m not. I’m glad you were here.”
“So I’ll see you at school Monday. Or can I pick you up?”
I sigh. “I would love that, but Monday’s probably not the best day to start. Maybe after Derrick’s cooled down a bit.”
Z glances at the door, then draws me closer to give me a tantalizingly slow kiss before getting on his bike. The front door opens and I turn to see Derrick watching the bike rev to life and peel away. I smile, knowing he’
s going to be super pissed at me…but not caring one bit.
Chapter Fourteen
“The dew seemed to sparkle more brightly on the green leaves; the air to rustle among them with a sweeter music; and the sky itself to look more blue and bright. Such is the influence which the condition of our own thoughts, exercise, even over the appearance of external objects.”
—Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist
Liv
“Olivia, you don’t know boys.”
I grind my teeth. It’s the third time Derrick has said this, and I can’t take any more of this stupid lecture about how boys only want one thing, and do I know what that is, etcetera, etcetera.
“Do you have birth control?” he asks suddenly.
I almost fall out of my seat. I couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”
“Birth control,” he says in a tired voice. “To prevent pregnancy. You do know about condoms and stuff, right?”
My chin drops and I stare at him, heat rising in my face. This is definitely a first—I’ve never had a foster mother, let alone a foster father, try to explain sex to me, much less ask me if I use birth control.
“Um, Derrick, I really don’t need that—”
“If you’re going to act like a grown-up, you need to take certain precautions to make sure you don’t end up pregnant. You do know about that, right?”
“I… Yes, of course, but I don’t do that… I don’t…you know…” I can’t believe I’m actually sitting here having a sex talk with my foster father. Totally. Ick.
“So you’re still a virgin?” he asks skeptically.
“Look, can we please be done with this conversation?” I can feel my face burning. Can’t he see how uncomfortable I am? Doesn’t he have a clue?
“All right, then. I won’t say anything about this to Denise. She won’t be as understanding as I am.”
I practically fly to my room. Understanding? The last half hour ranks in the top ten worst moments of my life, and believe me, there have been a lot. I shut my door and fall face-first into my pillow, screaming into the foam as hard as I can.
But was it worth the kiss with Z to have to endure the painful lecture? Hell, yeah.
My body tingles when I think of his hands around my waist, his lips against mine. There are still warnings in my mind that remind me something is off about him, but it’s easier to shove them to the back of my mind. I know how he feels about me, and I simply don’t care about the other things.
The weekend drags by with nothing going on. Mr. Bronson only scheduled me for a few hours on Saturday, so I’m bummed that I can’t even work more. It’s not that great of a job, but it’s a lot better than helping Denise weed the small flower bed in the front yard and studying for tests. I manage to sneak in a few hours on my laptop, mostly listening to iTunes and scanning the Internet to find information about Z and Monroe Street. There’s nothing except the address.
True to his word, Derrick doesn’t say anything to his wife, but he also doesn’t let me go anywhere except work, even when Sam calls to invite me to a movie. He won’t let me use the phone and hovers over me like a hawk. He does ask me to watch television with him. Joyous. I might actually go crazy if I have to suffer another weekend like this.
On Monday, I get on the bus eagerly, counting the minutes until I see Z. Tyson doesn’t bother me at all anymore, just looks away when I glance at him. I’m pretty convinced the only thing he did wrong that night was to take a drink from a total stranger and deliver it to me, which wasn’t a good choice but didn’t deserve the beating he got from Z. That being said, I’m not at all disappointed at the lack of attention from him.
I hurry from the bus to my locker, then wait outside the Computer Science room for Z, feeling a little too much like a kid looking for the ice cream truck. Z soon appears, and I notice he’s wearing dark jeans and his hair isn’t plastered back. He’s wearing his black-rimmed glasses, though. He grins and walks straight over to me, getting as close as he can, eyes teasing mine.
“I like this look,” I whisper. It’s all I can do not to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him.
“You don’t want me to pretend anymore,” he says, running a finger down my arm to my trembling hand and bringing it to his lips. “So I won’t.”
He pulls me into the classroom, never letting go of my hand until we sit down.
A quick glance around the room reveals several surprised looks, including Tyson, whose mouth is hanging open at us, and Sam, whose eyebrow is raised. I take my notebook out of my backpack as Ms. Walsh starts the class. Z, of course, looks attentive as usual, answering Ms. Walsh’s questions without effort while snaking his foot around mine under the table.
Our desks in English Lit are individual and farther apart, so there’s little opportunity for covert affection. At lunch, though, he pulls me to his lap, his hands curving around my hips. I press my hands against his cheeks, loving how he closes his eyes at my touch.
“Oh, give me a break. Get a room already.” Sam’s voice cuts in, startling us.
I pull away from Z and sit back in my own chair. “Sorry, Sam,” I say sheepishly. She sinks into her chair and stares at Z.
“What?” he asks testily, even as he drapes his arm around me.
Her frown deepens. “Seriously?” she asks him. She looks pointedly at me. “So you two are a thing now?”
I can feel the blush creeping up my cheeks. I don’t answer, but Z does. “Shut up, Sam.”
“Bill called,” she says, her fingers playing with a straw on the table. Z’s arm stiffens around my shoulders. “He talked to Nancy this morning. Wants to know how we’re coming along on our project.”
“I said, shut up.”
“I told Nancy it looks like it’s going to end the same as your other projects.” She flips the straw across the table and smiles at me. “How are you doing today, Liv?”
“I’m…” Confused? Yeah, definitely that.
Z’s arm disappears from my shoulder as he leans closer to her. “We’ll talk later,” he says, his voice quiet but strained.
“No worries.” She smiles brightly at him even as she stands to leave. “I just wanted to check in with you.”
She winks at me before walking away, leaving us alone in awkward silence. Z sits back and takes a long drag from his soda, not looking at me.
I don’t know where to begin. Actually, I do. “What project are you guys working on together?”
He smiles, and it shocks me that he looks so calm after the way he responded to Sam. “Just a project for the house. It’s top secret, though.”
“Does it have to do with me?”
He laughs, but it seems too casual of a laugh for him. Forced. He takes my hand. “What makes you think that?”
He says it like the answer is no, but I don’t believe that for a second. I jerk my hand away and stare him down. “I’m not an idiot, you know.”
The laugh lines in his face smooth as he grows serious. “I know. I’m sorry. There’re some things going on right now at the house that I can’t talk about. Can you just trust me?”
It’s not like me to put trust in something I know nothing about. It’s not in him, either, so I doubt he expects it. “Why’s it such a big deal that Bill called Nancy?” I ask instead of answering his question.
He shrugs. “Bill gets a little intense about things, that’s all. None of us likes to be on his bad side, but he’s a pretty decent guy. He pulled us all out of bad situations—almost everyone in that house was either on the streets or close to heading that way when he intervened.”
I stare at my hands. I wish my mother had found someone who could’ve intervened for her. My life might’ve been so different.
“What are you thinking?”
“Just wondering when you’re going to tell me your real name, because I know it’s not Z.”
He takes my hand, kissing my fingers again. “Someday.”
“Today?”
“Someday,” he says more firmly,
chuckling. “You want to go for a ride after school?”
“I’m supposed to head straight home. Derrick will be there waiting on me, I know it.”
His thumb traces a path around my palm, eyes holding mine. As usual, I melt into jelly.
“Okay,” I say simply. His mouth curves into a devilish grin. “You knew I would, anyway.”
He laughs again and kisses me lightly before standing. “I’ll see you after.”
I watch him walk away, almost glad I have the afternoon classes without him. He distracted every single one of my senses during the morning classes so I have no idea what I was supposed to learn. I don’t exactly want to fail.
After school, on my way to the footbridge, I spot him and Sam arguing heatedly but am too far away to catch what they’re saying. Sam’s gesturing wildly and yelling, but Z is standing with his arms crossed, shaking his head. Every once in a while it looks like he’s trying to say something but she cuts him off. When I get closer, Sam’s eyes slide past Z to me.
“Hey, Liv! Come join us.”
Z turns around, scowling as I walk to them, but Sam is smiling widely. The contrast in their expressions makes a pit form in my stomach. What the hell? Z turns back to her, saying something I can’t hear.
“Yes, it is,” Sam says to him. She turns to me. “So the company I told you about is ready to offer you a job.”
That’s the last thing I expected to hear. “Really? That’s awesome, because I really could use…” I stop as I take in Z’s stance. His hands are clenched and he’s shaking his head at Sam, who’s ignoring him. “What’s going on, guys?”
Sam raises an eyebrow, turning her attention to Z. “Well? Tell her about the job.”
He looks at me, the muscles in his face relaxing slightly as he takes my hand. “Let’s go,” he says.
“Wait a second, what job? You said you didn’t work with Sam.”
“Really?” Sam drawls. “Interesting.”
Z’s glare is murderous as he pushes past her, pulling me with him. “Come on.”