I haven’t prepared for this. If I had it my way, I would have spent lots of time getting ready. I would have removed leg and underarm hair, dressed up in something nice, tried to tame my wild mane. But here I am in freaking Christmas-patterned pajama bottoms, a hoodie, and a grungy white tank.
Seth will think I look like crap. I have to look like crap.
“So, did she tell you?” Brady asks Miles warily.
“I told him Seth liked me,” I say, hoping he’ll get that I didn’t tell Seth’s secret.
“Ah.” He nods, clearly relieved, and heads for the house. When I don’t follow, Miles drags me with him.
The place is starting to look like a home. A nice one with personality and class, but not over-the-top like Dad’s penthouse. So Seth has been busy the last couple days. “He’s waiting for you out back.”
“Okay.” My heart pounds so hard it hurts. I force my feet to go forward, and I’m out the door before I can change my mind and run.
My breath stops when I see their backyard. It’s prettier than I expected. White paper lanterns light the patio awning. Flowering vines climb up the posts. Tall trees shade most of the lawn, which is as manicured as the front. There are rosebushes everywhere and in every color.
Seth leans on the porch railing, and I freeze when our eyes lock. I’m not sure what makes me blush more—the fact that he’s really looking at me or that I completely forgot how cute he is. He’s wearing a nicer shirt than usual, making me feel even grungier. The blue color matches his eyes exactly. His hair’s almost red in the fading light.
I missed that shy side smile more than I thought. It makes me want to run over and hug him, cry on his shoulder, and feel his arms around me. But I don’t. Not after the way I acted. So I attempt humor. “Your water bill must be insane with all those roses.”
His smile grows. “My mom loved them. She planted every single bush. Have to keep one thing to remind me of her.”
I nod, unsure of what else to do. It’s still weird that he sees my reactions. I wonder if I should try to hide them, but I’m not sure I can.
He pulls out a chair for me. “Do you want to sit?”
“Okay.” I can’t seem to get my words out after that. There’s so much to say and no good place to start. He watches me, and I can’t help but worry I have something on my face.
He frowns, looking away. “This is really hard for you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you, really. There’s just a lot to get used to. I have to think about things that never mattered before.”
“Like?”
I sigh. “If I’m sweating like a pig or eating like one. Then there’s every facial expression I’m not used to people seeing, and this feeling of … I don’t know, being exposed, naked, visible. It’s scary.” I hug myself, a wave of it coming over me. I miss hiding. “And you’ve seen me actually naked, haven’t you, in the desert?”
His face goes bright red. “Yeah, but that time was unavoidable. It’s not like I spend all my time undressing people. When I was younger, clothes were hard to hold on to. Trust me, it’s not pleasant to see your old, fat second-grade teacher naked.”
I can understand that, though it’s not completely comforting. “But how do you see through? How can you, um, keep my clothes on but see through my invisibility?”
He shrugs. “It’s hard to explain, but I guess it’s like layers. I can peel off different layers or put them back on. Some layers—thick ones—are harder to get through. I get killer headaches if I spend too much time using it to see through thick walls and stuff like that. But your invisibility is nothing. It’s hardly there, thinner than a spider’s web. I have to work hard to see you invisible, actually.”
“Huh.” I always felt being invisible was more like being surrounded by a cement barrier. “That’s why you didn’t realize who I was that first day.”
He nods. “To me, you were just some beautiful girl walking into class.”
“Whatever.” I wish he couldn’t see me blushing.
His fingers wrap around mine tightly, sending goosebumps up my arm. I peek up at him—his eyebrows are pinched with concern. “Fiona, I know this has to be hard, and I’m sorry I messed up so much and made it worse. I probably can’t understand at all, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about.” His eyes run over me, and his face softens. I can tell he honestly likes what he sees. “If you only knew.”
His touch feels even better than before. Somehow, it clears my head. I know I want this. I want him. It’s still scary, liking someone so real and messed up, someone who knows your weaknesses. But at the same time it’s intoxicating. He likes me—I like him—despite all the bad stuff. We both want it to work, and maybe that will make it happen.
I take a deep breath and squeeze his hand. “Okay. Tell me.”
He glances at the French doors, which is when I notice Miles and Brady are right there talking. “Let’s sit on the grass.”
He lets go of my hand, and we leave the deck. We sit on the cool grass under a tree, facing each other. In the dark, it feels like we’re miles from everything. All I can hear is crickets and my own breathing.
“What do you want to know first?” he asks.
“Oh, um …” I hadn’t really thought about that. For some reason I pictured knowing it all at once, like looking in a mirror and finally seeing my reflection. “I guess my hair. Is it as crazy as I think it is?”
He smiles. The moment before he speaks, my insides flip upside down. “No, it’s not crazy.” He runs a hand through my curls, and it sends tingles down my neck. “It’s wavy, some times more curly than others, but always pretty.”
“What color?”
“Dark blond.” My face involuntarily scrunches and he laughs. “Is that bad?”
“No, I just … dark blond? That’s the nice way to say dirty blond.” I feel stupid for being disappointed. I know my hair color for the first time in my life. I should be happy. But boring, mousy blond?
“Don’t call it that; I like it.” He takes a few strands in his fingers. By the way they tug at my scalp, it feels like they’re near my forehead. “Besides, the pieces closest to your face are golden. Sometimes they catch the light, and I swear they glitter.”
He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing in the world, which makes me feel like I am. “Well, when you put it that way.”
“What next?” He lets go, probably since he can see how nervous I am. But I want to hold his hand again. Am I allowed to just take it?
“Hmm. Skin?”
He purses his lips. “Let’s see … how do I explain that? You’re a little tanner than me, but not as dark as Bea. Maybe like caramel?”
I smile wide. “Caramel. I like that.”
“Me too. And you have these really cute freckles.”
“I do?” I might pass out. The hair color was a little let-down, but knowing I have even one freckle makes up for it. “Where?”
He looks down. “You’d have to take off your hoodie so I can point to them for you.”
“Okay.” The thought of my caramel skin having freckles shouldn’t be motivation for me to strip, but for some reason it is. I have the hoodie off in seconds.
He lets out a breath. “You never look bad, do you?”
“Shut up, I look like crap.”
“You really, really don’t.” Seth leans in closer. I can’t breathe right as he takes me in. It’s getting easier, but my heart hasn’t slowed. He touches a spot on my forearm, and the sensation radiates through me. “There’s one right here.” He moves his finger along my skin and stops on my upper arm. “One here.” Then he moves to my shoulder and points out four. There’s three on my other shoulder and four on that arm. He also points out two on my back.
I sigh, some of the nerves subsiding. At least I have freckles. The rest of me can be butt-ugly, and I wouldn’t care. Okay, maybe I’d care a little. “That’s so great.”
He smirks.
“You sure have a thing for freckles.”
“I do. I really like yours.” I get daring and put my finger to his cheek. He doesn’t flinch with surprise. It’s still hard to process that.
Seth puts his hand over mine, pressing it into his cheek. I can’t help but smile as he wraps his fingers around mine and lowers our hands from his face. I like holding hands. It feels right. “I always got teased for them as a kid.”
“Well, those kids were stupid.”
“Next?” He pulls at my arm like he wants me to come closer, so I move from facing him to sitting next to him. Our arms touch, just like in the movie theater. He smells incredible, something like cinnamon but not as sweet.
“Eyes?”
“Brownish hazel, but not as dark as your brother’s.” There’s an edge to his voice when he says “brother,” so he must mean Graham.
I nod. I kind of expected brown, since all my family has brownish eyes. “What about my face?”
“You’re gorgeous.” He picks at the grass, his smile growing as he thinks. “Let’s just say everyone would be after you if they knew.”
I laugh. He has to be exaggerating, but it doesn’t matter. He’s the only judge. “You’re pretty smooth, you know that?”
“Nah. I’m just telling the truth.” He puts an arm around me, and I know we’re together without either of us having to say it. All my nerves are the good kind, the ones that tell you incredible things will happen. We stay like that for a few moments before he talks again. “It’s really your expressions that make you, though. It’s a shame people can’t see. I feel sorry for them.”
I look up at him. “What do you mean?”
He stares at the night sky contentedly. “Well, take your lips. Very nice, by the way, full and pink. But they’re just lips until you smile; that’s when they’re your lips. Your smile is intoxicating, and your pout is painful. I hate seeing you sad.”
I stare at him, taking in the words. They’re so simple, but they change something inside me. I’m real now. Whole. I never have to wonder again if there’s something underneath my invisibility. Someone sees me—all of me. I don’t know what to do with the happy current pulsing through me, so I lean my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I ran away. It was so stupid, because I already liked you so much. I just didn’t know what to do. I was so freaked out.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He leans his head on mine. “I totally understand. That’s why I was so scared to tell you. I knew there was a good chance I might never see you again. Why would you want to be around someone who lied to you? I wanted to say it so many times, Fiona, but then I thought about you leaving and … I couldn’t.”
A laugh escapes. “I think that was the first selfish thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”
“Yes, you’ve turned me into a horrible person. I like being around you too much.”
“Heaven forbid you think about your own happiness.” Just one of his arms around me isn’t enough, so I climb into his lap and wrap my arms around him. He squeezes me tight, burying his head into my neck.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my life,” he whispers.
“Me either.”
Before we say anything else—or do anything else—a soft whistle comes from the house. Seth tenses as he looks in that direction, then his eyes go wide. “We gotta hide.”
“What?” He’s already pulled me to my feet and toward the side of the house.
“Graham’s here.”
Chapter 33
We duck into a thick bush as I fight to restrain my panic. Don’t scream. Seth wraps his arms around me, and I bury my face in his chest. I can’t seem to stop gasping for breath. How did he know where to look? Why is he looking? Supposed noble intentions or not, there’s no good reason for Graham to be here.
Seth stares into the wall, his face set into a hard glare. I’m not sure if it’s from trying to see through the wall or from what he sees on the other side. I hope Miles is hiding, even if his car is outside. He doesn’t need another black eye.
“He looks pissed,” Seth whispers. “He’s trying to search the house, but Brady’s blocking him.”
“Is Miles okay?”
“He’s under my bed.”
I gulp. If Graham really did save us, maybe he can be reasoned with. “I should talk to him.”
“No.” Seth’s grip on me tightens. “It’s too dangerous.”
“But—”
His eyes stop me, practically burn my retinas with their intensity. “You didn’t see the bruises, the ones on your neck when we were at Taco Bell. Like someone had choked you. That was Graham, wasn’t it?”
I nod.
“Your skin was purple where his fingers had been. And the ones on your arms and wrist after his pool visit? It killed me not to ask if your wrist was broken. It was that bad.” He puts his head on my shoulder. “I … I can’t see you beat up like that again. Please.”
My lungs won’t take in air. I remember my neck being sore after Graham threatened me that day, but I’d never thought of how it looked. And that was nothing compared to what I’d been through working for Dad, but no one cared because they couldn’t see it. Even I didn’t care as much as I should have. “Okay. I won’t.”
“Thank you,” he whispers.
It’s not like I know Graham’s good anyway. He might be, but considering his track record I’d prefer to have solid proof before I approach him. And there’s only one way to know for sure he’s on our side. “We need to—”
“Shh,” Seth hisses. “They’re coming out here.”
Brady’s voice cuts through the silence. “It looks like they went for a walk in the park or something. Guess you’re out of luck.”
Graham floats over the lawn, searching the dark. He spots something that almost makes me swear. My hoodie. He picks it up. “A walk, huh? Why didn’t she take this? I won’t find more of her clothing strewn around, will I?”
I gulp, positive he thinks I stripped down to hide. It wouldn’t be the first time. He’d assume that, since he doesn’t know Seth can see me.
Brady folds his arms. “They are together; it’s not my business.”
“Maybe I’ll look around a second.” Graham flies to the bushes along the fence farthest away from us.
“Or you could be considerate. You don’t have to talk to her right now.”
Graham jets back to Brady and hovers in his face. “Actually, I do. And I’d love to leave her alone, but she’s in deep trouble.”
I wish I knew what for. Either he’s pissed about the hack, or Mom told him I wanted to leave Madison and he’s mad about that. I can’t quite tell, but either way I’d probably get hit.
“You might wanna back up,” Brady growls. He seems bigger, stronger, than usual. With all that rage building, he could probably take out the house with one punch.
“Or what?” Graham comes closer.
In one swift motion, Brady reaches out to grab my brother. Graham tries to dodge, but he isn’t fast enough. Brady has him by the ankle, gripping him tight enough that Graham winces. A smile creeps onto my lips—seeing him bullied will never get old. My brother tries to wiggle out of Brady’s iron hold, but it doesn’t work.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Brady gives one tug, and Graham slams into the ground with a loud thud. He coughs, trying to get air back in his lungs. They stare at each other for a few seconds. “You’re not the only one who can do threats.”
That cunning grin plasters Graham’s face. “You can beat me—so what? You have no clue what you’re up against. The O’Connell Syndicate has plenty of other tools.”
He shoots up in another attempt to get away. Brady lunges, grabbing him by the arm. Graham’s legs fling forward like he got swept up in a gust of wind, but he doesn’t go anywhere.
“Whoa, hold on there.” Brady plucks him out of the air and forces him to stand on the ground. “Again with the threats. What ever happened to brotherly love?”
“I
tried to protect her!” Graham looks at the ground, visibly shaken. “If you won’t help me find her, let me go.”
Brady releases him. “I hear anything about you hurting her again, and I’ll rip you right out of the sky. Now, I’m going back inside. You have one minute to get off my property—and for you Flyers that means at least one hundred feet in the sky, right?”
“Right.” Graham picks himself up off the ground. He watches Brady go into the house as he hovers.
“Brady’s still watching.” Seth’s lips almost touch my ear as he whispers, and it makes my skin prickle.
Graham sweeps the yard once, flying right over us. I’m glad his vision isn’t the greatest. He might have the speed, but he’s never been good at finding me once I’m hiding. He stops in the middle of the lawn.
“I’m not stupid. I know you’re here. We have a lot to talk about before you make more mistakes.” He rubs his hands over his face. “Fiona, if you don’t stop this crap, I’ll make sure you don’t jeopardize Mom’s safety anymore. This is your last warning.”
He rockets off, but I still can’t breathe. Whether he has good intentions or not doesn’t matter. He’s still Graham, and he’ll sell me out the second I don’t do exactly what he says. Maybe I’m not living under Dad’s roof, but it’s only a slightly nicer prison with my brother in charge.
Seth’s hands are on my face. He moves my head so he can look into my eyes. “He has to be lying. He’s trying to get to you.”
“He’s not lying.” My voice sounds stronger than I expect. I feel stronger. I know what I want, and for once I’m not afraid.
He looks up. “I don’t see him anymore. Let’s go inside, okay? You’re getting cold.”
I nod, and he pulls me out of the bushes. After grabbing my hoodie, Seth keeps an arm around my waist as we rush to the porch. I half expect Graham to dive-bomb us, but he doesn’t. Seth sits on the leather couch they must have just bought, but I can’t stop pacing. An idea clicks into place with each step, along with the determination to do it.
I won’t live here under Graham’s terms. I won’t leave, and I’m certainly not going back to Dad’s. This is my life, and I should be free to live it however I want. With whoever I want. No more threats or fear or indecision.
Transparent Page 18