“I thought you cared about me enough to put up with the rules.”
“I’m no saint. I’m sick to death of wanting and wanting and wanting.”
His words crashed over her, sweeping the desire from her body. She peered at the shadowed sockets of his eyes. Silence ran like seawater between them.
“This conversation is over.” Cisco spun toward the street, his heels crushing the grass with each step.
She stood in the dark, her skin corpse-cold.
His car door slammed and he peeled up Washington.
She didn’t know this Cisco. Where would this stranger go? What would he do? She sank onto the dirt, her body curling around the shell fragments of fear churning in her belly.
Chapter 15
Dear God,
So, where did all the glorious emotion I felt for Zack go? Jesse’s letter popped that balloon.
It feels like Jesse and I are grafted together. How did that happen? Did you do it? Did I have a choice? I can’t love Jesse. I’ve never felt warm and bubbly about him. Even his kiss was sloppy.
Why are things so complicated? What now? I could use a playbook about now. God?
Someone Who Needs a Little Advice Here
Kallie opened her nightstand drawer to “mail” the letter. She read Jesse’s song again and stuffed both pages into the drawer already fat with letters to God. Like letters to Santa—where did you mail them, anyway?
Cisco wove through the pines beside Billy toward the yellow glow of a bonfire. “Sorry about flipping out the other day.”
“Yeah, what was with you?”
“Drama with Avra. Not about you, man.”
“I totally didn’t see that coming.”
“Obviously.”
“I throw the next punch.”
“Deal.” Cisco smelled the brew before he saw the keg on the gate of someone’s pickup. He hadn’t been to a kegger since he started seeing Avra.
“Hey, Cisco,” called a kid with surfer dreads and a New Smyrna Beach High T-shirt two sizes too small. “Long time no see.”
“Yeah,” Cisco yelled back. “Been livin’ the life of a monk.”
A boom box blared. Couples danced in the firelight on sand and pine needles. He wiped sweat from his forehead while Billy took a turn at the keg.
Cisco filled a paper cup and stepped further into the shadows, away from the heat. He was done living by other people’s rules. He inhaled the yeasty smell of an old friend. He blew the head off the beer into the sand. It slid cool down his throat.
Isabel danced toward him. His eyes wandered her silhouette over the rim of his cup. Her eyes were in shadow, and the fire picked up a gold thread in her spandex blouse stretched taut above her navel. A tiny black skirt slung low on hips gyrating to the beat.
“Cisco, dance with me.”
He heard the slight slur in her words, the plaintive note.
She moved closer, put her arms around him, pressed soft parts of her body against him. She rubbed the base of his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. He dropped his cup in the sand, and his hands found the exposed skin at her waist.
Avra. He’d never even seen Avra’s stomach.
“I need another beer.”
“‘S’up, Bro?” one of the guys standing near the keg asked Cisco.
“Not much.” Cisco smiled over the fire at Isabel and raised his cup to her. “You?” A few more beers and maybe he could get Avra out of his head and dance with Isabel again. She beckoned him with a graceful arm.
He idly surveyed the crowd. His eyes stopped at Kallie. What was she doing here? He muttered a curse. She saw him.
Smiling, Kallie skirted the dancers and headed toward him. She stepped into the shadow beside him. “Hey.”
“Mother Theresa, what are you doing here?”
“Mother Theresa? Oh, you mean because I go to Mass?”
“Something like that.” He swatted at a mosquito. “So you’re a party girl—get sloshed, go to confession.”
“I go to parties. I don’t get sloshed.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Think what you want.” She poured out her beer on the ground at his feet. “What’s your problem?” She stared at him till he thought she could read his mind, then walked away.
He funneled the rest of his beer down his throat and watched Isabel dance with Billy. Her eyes lasered into his as though Billy were invisible. The fire burned between them now, playing in her eyes and on the minutest curves of her body as she moved. She shimmied up to Billy—raising her arms, snapping her fingers over her head, shaking her hips—and took a step away again—eyes still rooted to Cisco’s.
He cocked his head and motioned Isabel to come to him.
Isabel said something in Billy’s ear and danced toward Cisco. Billy wandered toward the keg.
Isabel placed his hand on the curve of her hip, their bodies just touching.
The bass throbbed in his chest and under his palms as she moved. He slid his hand across bare skin to her back and pressed her to him, joining her in the dance.
Kallie faced him, talking to the guy who made Jesse jealous.
Cisco watched Isabel weave toward her yellow porch light. She fumbled with the key until someone opened the door from the inside, and she stumbled through it. Billy yanked his ’93 Chevy van back onto the street. In the passenger seat, Cisco swayed with the motion of the vehicle.
Slapping his phone shut, Cisco shoved it into his pocket on the second try. Isabel had just spent fifteen minutes programming her number on his speed dial. Avra’s face swam through the debris floating in his head and his gut clenched.
Billy lurched to a halt at a stop sign. A picture of Enrique stuffing his Walmart uniform shirt into his pants so he could flirt with a woman in skintight jeans jostled to the surface of Cisco’s consciousness. This is different. I’m not married and expecting a second baby.
This was Avra’s fault. If she wasn’t frigid—he swatted the thought away. Even wasted, he knew that wasn’t true.
I’m done with her stinkin’ rules. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. Isabel’s fire-lit dance played on the inside of his eyelids.
Billy swerved into the dirt in front of Cisco’s house. Cisco’s head smacked against the window. He was just drunk enough for it to feel like a divine thwack. He waved off Billy’s words and slammed the door. Hard.
Avra sat on her front step, combing her fingers through Lester’s curly fur. The strained sound of Kallie’s voice on the phone earlier did nothing to quell the sense of terror that floated in and out of her consciousness all weekend. She hadn’t heard from Cisco since he screeched away from Old Fort Park.
Lester growled.
Purple clouds rolled behind Kallie as she cut across the yard. “Your dog hates me.”
Lester growled again as if agreeing. Avra scooped him up and tossed him into the house.
Kallie sank onto the step, her face wan under her tan. “You’re going to hate me too. Shoot the messenger and all that.”
Dread weighed Avra down onto the porch beside Kallie.
Kallie chewed her lip, took a deep breath. “I saw Cisco at the kegger last night.”
Avra’s gut clenched.
“He danced with Isabel.” Kallie clapped her hands together, the sound loud in the pre-storm quiet. “Like this.”
Avra’s stomach heaved and calmed. She pictured Cisco and Isabel together in her mind as she’d imagined a hundred times since Friday. O God, it hurts so badly. Let it be nothing. Her mind flailed for some plausible explanation and came up empty. She’d gambled her heart and didn’t realize until this minute how much she had to lose. “I thought something was wrong—not this wrong.”
Kallie’s eyes dampened. “I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her arms around Avra.
One of Kallie’s tears splashed on Avra’s arm. Kallie released her, dashing the tears from her mascara-smeared eyes. She glanced at Avra. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be crying.”
&
nbsp; Avra sucked in her breath. “Not till I hear it from Cisco. He won’t lie to me. At least I’m confident about that.”
Kallie snuffled loudly, pulling herself together.
Why had she ever been jealous of Kallie?
“I broke up with Zack at the kegger.”
“I’m sorry—”
Kallie shook her head. “Don’t feel bad for me. I don’t.” She pulled a well-creased piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Avra.
“Kallie in the Clouds,” Avra read. She skimmed the song and looked up at Kallie.
“Too bad I couldn’t give Zack his ring back, huh?”
“What ring?” She frowned at Kallie’s ring finger.
“The one in purple plastic I flushed down the toilet.”
Kallie strode over the uneven sidewalk toward the shed. The wind picked up, turning the leaves on the trees right-side down. Inside, a metronome ticked between sorrow for Avra and anticipation of finding out what Jesse meant by “Kallie in the Clouds.”
She opened the shed door and oven-hot air rushed at her. She jogged upstairs to open the window for the last few minutes before the rain. Her eyes drank in the tin walls and roof, the plank floor, the old spool, the stack of hymnals against the wall. Two huge rolls of painted paper—probably discarded scenery from a play—and a refrigerator box painted to look like a door were the only additions.
She sat on the top step and leaned on her elbows, humming “Kallie in the Clouds.” It was beautiful. Even the melody caressed like a love song.
She looked out the window for Jesse. Rain slapped her cheek and the sky opened up. She lowered the window to a crack.
Jesse banged through the door. “Kallie?”
“I’m here.” She came halfway down the steps. Her lips stretched into a smile as if she had no control over them.
He slid his dripping rain poncho over his head and tossed it onto the John Deere. He rubbed his face dry with the front of his T-shirt.
Her gaze shot away from the dark hair curling on Jesse’s flat white stomach.
He took the stairs in two steps, his grin as wide as hers.
Lightening cracked. She sat down on the landing with a thump.
“Looks like it might storm till dusk,” Jesse said.
She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. “Shame ...”
Jesse crouched on the step beside her. “Are you flirting with me, Kallie Logan?”
“You wish.”
“Maybe I do.” His tone was light, but his eyes serious. “Are your feet back on the ground?” The skin on his knuckles went white where he gripped the edge of the step between them.
“I broke up with Zack last night.” She met his eyes. “It was your fault. I thought I was in love with him till I got the song.”
“You threw the guy over?” He stared at her, disbelief and hope warring on his face as the rain blew in sheets against the building.
Thunder clapped and she shoved up against Jesse’s side.
“Remind me to invite you to the next storm.” Jesse squeezed her to him, chuckling.
She felt the warmth of Jesse’s arm against her back, his hand cupping her shoulder. She wanted this moment to last forever. The rain gentled, then picked up new force. “Thank you for ‘Kallie in the Clouds.’ It’s my favorite song you’ve ever written—maybe my favorite song, period.”
“Are you saying it’s artistically sound?”
“I can’t be objective about it.” She hugged herself, rubbing the chill bumps from her arms. “You touched my heart.”
The wind changed direction and whipped the rain against the near wall, upping the volume.
“So, I finally melted the acid-tongued music critic?” Jesse said over the rain.
“I am not—” She raised her voice. “Write all your songs for me and I’ll go easy on you.”
Her eyes locked into his, muddy brown with emotion.
“I already do.”
Her lips formed an O, but no sound came out. She scraped her gaze to the coil of rope hanging on the wall, a lifeline to keep her from falling headlong into the depths of his eyes. A fall that surely would end in shattered bones and ground flesh.
His hand tightened on her shoulder. “Go out with me, Kal.”
“You’d be content with just one girl?”
Jesse’s hand lifted from her shoulder and grabbed his neck.
“That’s what I thought.”
Avra’s foot hit the pavement as she looked at the empty spot where Cisco stood every morning waiting for her. Palm fronds rustled overhead; the faint smell of salt and fish blew in on the breeze that ruffled her hair like any other morning. Inside her a hurricane waited, deep purple, the eerie stillness before the blow.
Cisco cut across Echo Plaza between Jesse and Billy. He looked up and saw her, his expression clouding. He said something to the guys and they peeled off toward the Student Center. She walked up to him and met his eyes.
He looked away.
The sun beat on her scalp and shoulders. “I heard you were with Isabel at the kegger.” She stared at his eyes, onyx chips glinting in the sun.
“Yeah. What about it?”
She laced her fingers together around her backpack and watched him carefully. “Did you get what you wanted?”
“So what if I did?”
The hurricane rolled through her, uprooting and mangling everything in its path. “You’re happy now?” She gripped her backpack like an anchor.
He jabbed his chin in the air like you wanna make something out of it? “Yeah.” Sweat beaded on his forehead.
A seagull squawked somewhere in the distance. “Sorry you wasted eight months of your life. The misery is over. See ya, Cisco.” She spun and walked away.
Chapter 16
The scent of gardenias hung in the air. Cisco swiped his arm across his face as Avra disappeared around the education building. The outside corners of her eyes had crinkled so slightly he would have missed it if he hadn’t been watching for her reaction to the bomb he dropped.
Had he thought she’d beg him to come back, promise him sex? He should have known better.
He’d wanted to hurt her. Why did he feel like she was the one who macheted off a slab of his body? He let out a string of Spanish that would have had Mamá muttering prayers for days, fingers clenched around the crucifix on her rosary. A Goth kid crossing Echo Plaza hiked a jet black eyebrow, his chains clunking rhythmically.
Fine. He pulled out his phone. His thumb hovered above the 2, Avra’s number. He jammed the 4 down. I for Isabel, she’d said when she programmed her number into his phone.
Avra trudged home from the bus stop. She stepped on the words keep sweet someone had stamped into the cement on the buckling sidewalk. Yeah, she’d kept sweet all right.
In her room, she collapsed into the chair, sweat trickling down the side of her face. Her eyes trailed the oak branches outside her window.
The door creaked and Kallie nudged her way in, her backpack slung over one shoulder, her forehead furrowed. “Bad news, huh?”
The numbness wore off in degrees—like an arm or a leg that had fallen asleep—and anger prickled in. She grabbed her pillow and shook it. “I want to shake him.” Dust danced in the sunlight. “I want to scream at him and spit in his face.” She hurled the pillow across the room.
“Need any help?”
“How can he call me mí vainilla, say, ‘I love you’ for eight months? How can he say I’m his best friend, all but join my family—and do this?”
“My dad did it to my mom—after fifteen years of marriage. Men rip your heart open and leave you drowning in a pool of your own blood.”
“I should never have taken a chance on a player. If I hadn’t dated a guy with no faith, I wouldn’t be here now.” She raked her fingers through her hair. It fell in strings across her eyes.
Kallie wrinkled her nose. “Cisco’s Catholic.”
She glanced at the cross on her wall. “Not everybody who goes to church knows G
od. Cisco doesn’t know God. Trust me.”
Kallie looked at her blankly, but she was done explaining. “Thank God I didn’t sleep with him. I thought I knew Cisco, but obviously I didn’t.”
She stared out the window unseeing.
Sometime later Kallie hugged Avra’s stiff shoulders and padded down the wood hall on the balls of her feet as if someone had died and noise would make the grief worse.
Avra sifted through a sand dune of emotion, one grain at a time. She knew from habit, from lesser hurts, that she should pour out the emotions to God. Yet, she sat there, paralyzed. She hurt too much to move or pray.
She wished she could quit thinking. But the thoughts kept screaming through her. No more knowing what was going on in Cisco’s head. No more laughing over a private joke. No more feeling his touch, his kiss, his smile when she first walked into a room.
“Oh, God.” The words echoed in the growing dusk, the only prayer she could pray.
Jesse gripped the gearshift and flashed Kallie a smile, willing the weirdness to go away. “Hi, kid.”
“Hey.” Kallie slid into the car and shut the door. She ran a shaky hand through her hair.
He cleared his throat and turned the key in the ignition. Like seventeen students packed into a VW bug, their issues stuffed the car. He bared his soul in “Kallie in the Clouds.” She broke up with jailbait. But now he stared at the flip side of not going out with Kallie. The friends side—which was idiocy, because they’d never been just friends. He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Thanks for giving me a ride to Symphony Under the Stars tonight. I really need this last shot at extra credit to pull an A in Humanities.”
“Sure.” He drove, rounding corners, stopping smoothly at lights and stop signs as if his driving would smooth out their awkwardness.
“Cisco and Avra broke up,” Kallie said into the silence that hummed in the car.
They buzzed along US 1 toward Daytona.
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