by Ruby Vincent
I wanted to say yes. I tried to say yes, but then I thought of that sweet, smiling face. “But I don’t have a car.”
He smirked. He knew he had me.
“You’ll take mine. I’ll get a ride from someone else and meet you at the studio.”
I tugged my hands free. “You’ll owe me for this.”
“Yeah?” His smirk grew. “What would you like? We can go into the bathroom and... talk about it.”
My pulse quickened at the thought. I hated that he had that effect on me. My mind knew he was a jerk. My body not so much.
I lifted my chin. “No, thanks. Here’s fine. I want you to let me drive your car when I need it.”
He laughed. “That’s never going to happen, Bryant. Elementary school. Three o’clock. Don’t be late.”
He put the keys in my hand and walked out.
Hours later, school let out and I said goodbye to Estelle on the steps. “Text me.”
I skipped down and walked up to Christian’s spot. I felt eyes on me as I slid into the driver’s seat. If there weren’t rumors about us before, there were now. Everyone knew how Christian was about his car. It was an old 1968 Chevy Camaro that he bought for almost nothing and fixed it up himself. I had never seen anyone behind the wheel of this car other than Christian.
I pulled out of the parking spot and headed for the elementary school. It wasn’t a long drive and I got into the pickup lane with five minutes to spare. I rolled up to the front of the school and waved at Nicky.
He bounded over to the car, beaming away. “Hi, Rachel.”
“Hey.” I smiled at him. “Sorry about this. Christian said he’ll meet us at the show.”
Nicky settled in. “I know my brother’s coming. He promised.”
I drove off campus and turned onto the road for the Meadow Creek Royal Ballet Academy. I noticed Nicky glancing at me out of the corner of my eye.
“Rachel?”
“Yes.”
“You’re very pretty.”
I laughed. “Thank you.”
“I see why my brother likes you.”
My laughter dried up in a breath. “Your brother? No, he doesn’t.”
“Yes, he does. You’re Rachel. He talks about you.”
He talks about me?
I took my eyes off the road and looked at him. “What does... he say?”
Nicky shook his head. “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”
“It is? But how do you know it’s me? Lots of people are named Rachel. There are three other Rachels in our class.”
And Christian has probably slept with all of them. He must have been talking about one of them.
“Really? Then maybe it’s not you, but I like you so you should be Christian’s girlfriend.”
My lips quirked up into a smile. Gotta love the blunt honesty of children. If only Nicky would rub off on Christian.
We arrived at the academy and instructors claimed Nicky as soon as we walked in. I wished him good luck and joined the line leading into the theatre. This was nicer than I was expecting. This wasn’t a rinky-dink studio for booger-eaters and elbow-lickers. The theater I walked into looked like one transplanted from Broadway. An usher led me down to the front row and taped to two upholstered seats were “Nicholas Graham’s guests.”
I got comfy as the theater filled up. Despite being manipulated into coming, I was actually looking forward to this. I had never seen a ballet performance before and I couldn’t wait to see Nicky’s solo.
The lights dimmed and applause broke the silence. When the curtains rose, Nicky was poised and in position, looking more serious than I had ever seen him.
I was hooked by his first leap. It was hard to believe these were children for how effortlessly they executed moves that would have put me in the hospital. I had no problem giving into Christian’s wish for me to take photos. I shot Nicky flying, leaping, bounding, and dancing across the stage.
I was so mesmerized; I jumped when Christian plopped down next to me. My eyes were still glued to the viewfinder which gave me the perfect look at Nicky’s face when he saw Christian was finally here. I hurried to get the shot, then pulled my camera away to look at it. Christian was right. Someone needed to be in these seats.
I leaned into Christian. “Want me to tell you what you missed?”
“No. I saw the whole thing during rehearsals.”
I nodded and focused on the show, but every now and then I found my eyes drifting to Christian. There was an easy smile on his face. He looked so open and relaxed.
I couldn’t help thinking of what Nicky said in the car. Was I the Rachel he talked about? Could Christian really like me? No games. No tricks. No teasing. Was there something more behind his actions?
At that moment, he turned to look at me. I held my breath as that smile grew. Christian leaned in and I did the same—not even thinking about it.
Christian drew close and his nose brushed against mine. “Rachel?”
My heart picked up the pace. “Yes?”
He shifted, his nose trailing across my cheek as he bent down to whisper,
“Stop staring, stalker.”
My eyes sprang open. I whipped out my hand and swatted his arm as he fought to contain his laughter. His eyes danced with mirth and I sat back with a huff.
“Asshole,” I hissed.
I focused on the photo-taking for the rest of the evening. When the show was over, we met up with Nicky backstage.
“You were amazing,” I gushed. “I took so many pictures I ran out of memory space.”
“Thanks, Rachel.” Nicky looked up at Christian. “I think I messed up the attitude turn, and I didn’t get enough height on my last jump.”
“No way, Nicky, you...”
They fell into a conversation that I couldn’t follow while we headed toward the car. Christian dropped me home and took off to take Nicky, Miss Ruth, and his other foster siblings out for a celebratory dinner.
I smiled as I watched the car pull out of my driveway. The guy was still a jerk, but there was a heart in there somewhere.
“ALRIGHT, EVERYONE TAKE your seats.” Mr. Biedermeier strode into class and went to his desk. Christian came in after the door swung shut and ignored Biedermeier’s look of disapproval. He blew past his row and sat down in the seat next to me just as Parker was about to sit down.
“Mr. Moreau.” Biedermeier scowled. “That is Mr. Green’s seat.”
“No, it isn’t.” Christian turned those eyes on Parker. “Leave.”
I’d never seen anyone move so quickly.
He turned to me. “Hey, Bryant. I got you something.” All eyes were on him as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple red box.
“Um, thanks.” I could practically feel the room lean in to get a look, even Biedermeier peered over the desk, but I slipped the box into my backpack. It could be a real gift and it could also just as easily be a severed finger or something. I didn’t want everyone staring at me when I found out.
The bell rang to end class and Christian took off without looking back. I hurried to the bathroom, locked myself in a stall, and took out the box. I lifted the lid and picked up the small plastic square.
It was a memory card.
I WALKED INTO THE LUNCHROOM after gym and picked up a tray of nuggets and macaroni. I didn’t have to look around for Estelle. She was right where I expected, sitting next to Ryan at Christian’s table, and I went to join her without hesitating. If anyone had told me before senior year that I would be sitting with Christian’s crew, I would have thought they were on something.
It was like the atmosphere had shifted. Between me and my class. Between me and his crew. And between me and Christian.
I didn’t know how, why, or what it meant, but I could feel it.
I lifted my gaze and landed on Madison at the cheerleader table. Just like I could feel things had shifted with me and her. She was not pleased about these changes to the social order, but there was nothing she could do about it. I
wasn’t going back to the way things were before.
I was late coming home after school since Estelle and I took a pit stop at the ravine to lie in the sun and talk about every confusing, asshole thing that Christian did.
I let myself in the house and headed for my room.
“Rachel,” Mom said from the kitchen. “Dinner is in ten minutes. Wash up.”
“Yes, Mom.”
I stepped onto the landing and crossed to my room. I pushed the door open.
“Bryant.”
My eyes bugged out. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Christian was sitting at my desk—casual as ever—with my camera in his hands.
“Chill. Your mom said it was cool. I wanted to see the pics you took of Nicky.” He lowered the camera and my eyes followed it. “These are actually decent. Miss Ruth is going to love them.” He swiveled the chair toward the printer. “Can I print them out?”
“I’ll do that,” I said quickly. I needed to get that camera out of his hands now. “Wait in your room, I’ll bring them to you.”
He tossed me an amused grin. “You trying to get rid of me?”
“Yep.” The camera moved back up to his face. His fingers kept scrolling. “I told you this room is off-limits. Bye.”
I lurched forward and reached for the camera. Christian swung the desk chair around and I fell onto the back. “Not so fast, Bryant. I want to see what else you’ve got on here. I...”
His voice trailed off and my heart leaped in my throat. I backed away from him.
This can’t be happening. He can’t have seen them.
My desk chair creaked as Christian slowly turned to me. The look on his face said it all.
“The hell, Bryant.” He showed me the screen and a clear shot of him leaning against his car. He kept clicking—revealing picture after picture after picture. “You really are a stalker.”
“No, I’m not!” I was seconds away from crying. “Give it back, Christian!”
I snatched it from his hands and he let it go without a fight. I was mortified. I couldn’t believe he saw this. How was I going to explain it?
“It’s not what you think,” I forced out. I turned away from him. “I don’t take pictures of you because I’m obsessed or nuts. I do it because—”
I bit my lip.
“Because of what?”
“No. You won’t get it. You’ll make fun of me.”
“I won’t.”
“Yes, you—”
“I won’t.”
Something in his voice made me turn around. I studied his face but saw none of the usual things. He looked sincere.
After a minute, I nodded. “Okay.” I sat down on my bed and put the camera down beside me. “I take pictures of things that I... don’t understand.”
“That you don’t understand?”
“Yes.” I thought as I worked to form the words. “Real life moves so fast. But when I click this camera, I can capture a moment and come back again and again. Look at it and try to understand it.”
Christian’s gaze lifted off my face and fell on the photos hanging off my wall. He pointed. “That one. What’s special about two old people holding hands?”
“The man stopped and went back to take her hand so they could get off together. I don’t know how long they’ve been a couple, but I hope I have that when I’m their age. A guy that still wants to hold my hand.”
He nodded without saying anything. It was a surprise when he got out of the seat and sat down next to me. “What about those? The ones over your computer. Whose baby is that?”
I looked down at my balled fists. “You know who it is, Christian.”
There was a heavy silence. I made no move to break it.
“What’s your son’s name?”
“The Eastons chose Gavin,” I said after a pause. I wondered if this would ever get easier to talk about.
“Did you take the pictures or...?”
I shook my head. “They live eight hours away and Mom won’t— I mean, no. I didn’t. They send me photos of him every month. I like to see him smiling. It makes me feel like... maybe I did the right thing.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I shouldn’t have opened this door. This was a mistake.
A hand grabbed mine. My eyes sprang open as Christian pressed our palms together and laced our fingers. I looked down at our hands.
“Then there’s you,” I whispered. “I used to understand you. I used to know you, but when you came back everything changed. You even looked different. Not just from getting older but the look on your face. You didn’t have a real smile anymore, and you looked at people—at me—like you were seeing through them.”
I brushed my thumb along the screen. “I take pictures of you when... you look like you again. Maybe if I stare at them long enough, I’ll figure out where my best friend went.”
The silence was heavy with my words. I didn’t look at Christian. I couldn’t. But I could feel his eyes on me.
“I didn’t go anywhere, Bry— Rachel. You think I’ve changed, but I’ve always been this.”
“That’s not true.” I lifted my head and met his eyes. “I don’t get you, Christian. Not anymore.”
“What don’t you get?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Like why you keep secret all the things you do for your foster family. Taking Nicky to practice. Watching your siblings while Miss Ruth is at physio. Why don’t you want anyone to know there’s another side of you?”
He didn’t say anything right away, and I thought he wasn’t going to answer. “It’s not about that.”
“What then?”
“I keep it to myself because—” He stopped, scrubbing his face. Christian suddenly looked tired—vulnerable. “When I told people I couldn’t hang out because James had a dentist appointment or Miss Ruth needed me to make dinner, they’d ask why. Why was I doing all of that for them? That I shouldn’t be putting myself out when they weren’t...”
“Your family,” I finished. I shook my head. Man, people sucked.
“Yeah,” he said simply. “I got tired of having to justify it.”
I squeezed his hand. “I get it.”
A smile broke through his expression. Christian’s thumb gently brushed my hand. “You do, don’t you?”
I smiled back. Sitting here, talking to Christian like this, a feeling welled up in me that I had never felt before. This felt right.
“Can I ask you something else?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
“Why did we stop being friends, Christian?” I had wanted to know for so long. I couldn’t stop the questions from tumbling out. “Was it... something I did?”
Christian’s face shuttered closed. The change was so fast that, if I had blinked, I would have missed it. Christian released my hand and got to his feet. I watched his back as he walked toward the door.
He paused. “Yes,” he said, his face partly hidden by the wood. “It was.”
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Chapter Thirteen
I ate my breakfast slowly—chewing every bite longer than necessary and taking sips of my milk.
“Rachel, what’s taking you so long?” Mom said from the kitchen. “Christian is waiting for you.”
“You can leave without me,” I said without taking my eyes off my cereal. “I can get a ride from Estelle.”
“No. You’re riding to school with me.”
I paused with my bowl in the air. “Why?”
“Because I said so. Hurry up.”
I grumbled but slurped down the rest anyway. Mom would just force me to go with him so there was no reason to fight it. Besides, I had a few things I wanted to say to him.
Christian was sitting in his idling car when I finally came out. I started in on him the moment I slammed the door shut.
“You know what, Moreau, if you want to do this, then we’re doing it.”
“What?”
“I was up half the night thinking
about what you said—thanks for that, by the way—and this morning, I realized you were an asshole.”
“Didn’t you decide that a long time ago?”
“Shut up,” I snapped. “It is seriously messed up for you to blame me for all the things you’ve done the last two years. Saying that I did something to make you turn on me. Well, that’s bull. You chose to ditch me. To put me down. To make me feel like crap. I didn’t make you do any of those things. Even if you did have some kind of beef, going bully on me was an awful way to handle it. You’re an asshole, Christian, and I’m not letting you mess me around anymore.”
I finished my speech, chest heaving. Saying all of that felt insanely good, which was nice because after Christian walked out on me, I felt like shit. We had a nice moment. I had thought we were getting closer, then he slammed the wall back down on me.
I opened my mouth. “And another thing, I—”
“You’re right.”
“—you can’t—” I blinked. “Wait? What did you say?”
“I said you’re right.” Christian took his eyes off the road to look over at me. “The way I acted after we stopped being friends wasn’t on you. It was me. I know that. I didn’t mean for it to sound like I was blaming you.”
“Oh.”
I fell silent for the rest of the drive. I never thought I would get Christian to admit what he did, let alone agree with me. I wasn’t quite sure what to do now.
Christian parked in his spot and we climbed out of the car. I expected him to stride up the steps, leaving me behind as he usually does.
I looked up at him as he fell in step beside me. “What? Are we walking to class now? Since when?”
He chuckled. “Want me to go?”
“I didn’t say that,” I mumbled under my breath. “Am I ever going to figure you out?”
He shot me a grin. “Do you really want to?”
There wasn’t a hint of suggestion in his words and still I blushed. “Maybe.”
We reached my locker and Christian surprised me by stopping. “I’ll take you home after school today.”
“But Estelle takes me home,” I said while I spun my combination.