by C. L. Stone
What else would she do by Monday? “When I said things were okay at school, she claimed to want to check in, but...”
“We’ve got to focus on the immediate. We’ll get to that later, if we need to.” He finished what he was writing and showed me a list.
He arranged different questions, and then in little boxes, he put action items.
“Right now, our best chance is getting them both interested. Start with your father. He’s most likely to agree with you if you convince him that doing so will absolve him somehow of his past. With Carol, we just need to convince her that it saves her money and gets you out of her hair. Once we’ve got them on board, we’ll fake a few testing and interview appointments.”
I couldn’t help but wonder how long this would take. I was willing to do it. The work didn’t bother me. My going to a free school didn’t seem like a problem for my father.
For Carol, though? Would it conflict with what she wanted?
I wouldn’t give up after a month, like he’d said, but part of me wanted to be able to know when I could escape. With as nosy and interfering as Carol was, how much of this would we be able to get away with?
When he had written out the plan for a private school, he focused on the portion that allowed me to get out of the house as much as possible. He made a list that included keeping the planner I’d started with North updated. I’d need to call the guys in front of her, pretending to call girls via the house phone. They would get in contact with other girls within the Academy to pick me up, only to drop me off again shortly at the diner or the new trailer being installed.
“We’ll do this until you’ve got a routine,” he said. “You don’t want to be there. Let’s not get her used to you being around the house that often. We may also work in what we can do with your sister as well. She’s the most likely to let everything slip. It may be better to include her in the plan.”
“I should talk to her at some point. I didn’t want to last night.”
“It’s probably a good idea to allow her space to calm down. She may need a little guidance, but do your best not to share too much information with her yet. Not until we know what she wants that we can offer her in exchange for her silence.”
When he got to how to ask the guys how they felt, he hesitated over it, considering. “This one is important, but I think only you can do this. However, I do have a recommendation.”
I sat up, shifting my legs to the side, eager to hear it.
He put the notebook aside, leaning into me a little again. The steel in his eyes melted into silver. “When you get home tonight, find another journal or notebook. Take one from here if you’d like.”
“Okay.”
“Write out what you want to ask there. Any questions, any concerns.” He pointed to the bed with a forefinger, tapping it at each point he made. “We’ll all be able to read each entry and add to it. We can take our time with it. You’ll get something you can reflect and think about carefully.”
My eyes widened, worried. “They weren’t sure how they felt about...seeing how the others...” I wasn’t sure how to explain it. There was a lot to consider about the unique relationship we all had.
“They need a place where they can write out what they’re thinking, too, so everyone gets a chance to express themselves. You can talk to them outside of the journal, but this will allow everyone to write out their feelings, understand where they’re coming from. No more secondhand recollections passed on from everyone else.” He paused for a moment. “We all need to be open about this, or it won’t work. You need to know what they need, and we need to know what you need.”
I savored the idea of taking time to think about the words I’d want to say to all of them beforehand. They each had their own thoughts on it. It would help tremendously to write something out and wait for them to respond. We got interrupted so much that it was so difficult to catch up with everyone.
They’d be able to see what everyone else thought and take time to absorb it. No more secrets or hiding what we were thinking.
“Keep this notebook hidden,” he said quietly. “Find a spot for it.”
“I can bring it to the trailer,” I said quietly. “Can we keep it there?”
“You could bring it there, but the others will probably want to take it home to write in as well. You’d want to take it home to go through and read.”
He was right. But what if someone found it, like Jimmy? “What if I wrote it in the code I made? The Korean alphabet?”
The corners of his mouth lifted. “That may be suitable. The others will have to learn it.”
“It didn’t take me long,” I said. “I can read it like English.” It would protect us all. No doubt Marie was used to seeing my journals written in such a language, and if Jimmy or Carol saw it, I could simply say it was a journal or practicing languages. I already had Japanese homework I could show them. Would they be able to tell the difference?
“I’d give you a tablet or laptop to work with to do it digitally, but analog is probably best for this,” he said. “Volto, or someone else...”
He didn’t need to say more, although we still sent text messages and handled a lot of things digitally. He considered something like this too much of a risk if Volto were to see it.
I wondered if this was why he sometimes didn’t directly respond to messages, like earlier, when he was coming over but didn’t warn anyone.
He tore out the pages that contained the entire list of items that had been on my mind and my new to-do list. He took out his phone and took photos of each. “You may want to take a picture as well of some of the things you’ll write down, like your planner schedule. For reference. And keep us updated.”
“I’ve got Victor’s phone,” I said, bringing it out to hold in my hands. “Shouldn’t I give it back?”
He shook his head. “He cleared anything important off it already. Consider it yours now.”
Part of me wasn’t sure I should keep a phone. I kept breaking them.
After I had my lists, I felt calmer. There was still much to worry about, but as he tried to show me, to focus was more important. Three things didn’t seem like a lot. Part of it was easy, like convincing my father to send me to a school. He’d already wanted to.
Carol wanted in the house. I wanted out. The priority was clear to me now. The guys were right that if we had to do it this way, this was the best choice to do so without it all falling to pieces around us.
“I’ll get a notebook when I get home,” I said. “Another one for us. And I’ll talk to my dad, talk to Marie...” I shook my head, reordering what I needed to do and then trying to come up with how to approach people. There might be only three things on the list, but even those required a lot of work.
He paused, a slight glint of concern in his eyes. He put his phone away and pressed his palm to the bed again, leaning in close enough that his chest did touch my knee this time.
“Get some rest?” he asked quietly. “Please? I know we didn’t place health at the top of the list, but everything else can wait.”
I melted. “I’m trying to rest,” I said in a small voice.
“I know this isn’t easy,” he said, the concern in his eyes and the tone he used overwhelming. “It’s not easy for any of us, but we can’t do this if we’re weak from not getting enough rest. It’s been a long week.”
I nodded slowly but couldn’t help considering his soft tone, whether he was tired, too.
It struck me how, each time we got together, it was always my problems we were dealing with. What about him?
“Are you sleeping?” I asked quietly.
There was a slight twitch as the corners of his mouth drifted up by a millimeter, even if briefly. “I hope to sleep a little better tonight. You’re not the only one who needed to create a prioritization list.”
“Is there anything I can help with?”
A twinkle of silver sparked behind his glasses. He reached for his phone again and tapped at the screen a
few times before showing me a digital list.
His had four items.
At the top was: Dr. Green’s mother is in town.
This was a surprise. No one had told me. I pictured the Japanese woman from the photos in Dr. Green’s house. Again, I realized I wasn’t the only one dealing with problems.
The rest of the list, I knew about:
Keep the Academy up to date on the developing situation at the Sorenson house.
Get in touch with team members about where they stand regarding relationships.
Taking care of Miss Sorenson’s health and happiness.
Part of me was surprised ours had turned out so close, especially the part about finding out where the others stood with our relationships.
“They aren’t in order,” he said, and he used his finger to rearrange each item.
The note about my health and happiness went to the top of the list.
Heat built up from my heart to spread over my cheeks.
On some occasions, I felt the relationship between him and me was moving at a snail’s pace.
Then there were moments like this one, where I thought what I felt for him, and what he felt for me, was...perfect.
Just like him.
Ruffled
Victor returned after his phone call. “Someone needs to go down to the sales yard. The sellers don’t like the idea of delivery without someone actually walking around and approving it in person.”
Mr. Blackbourne stood up quickly, tucking his phone away and heading to the door. “I’ll go. I may need to pick up Mr. Taylor on the way as well.” He motioned to Victor and then to me. “Stay with her.”
Victor nodded solemnly, with his hands clutching the tablet and his new phone together against his chest.
Mr. Blackbourne looked once more to me, his lips twitching.
I had a lot to say to him as well, only again, we found ourselves needing to do other things.
Carol was in the way. I couldn’t help but feel we could be doing so much more with our time if we weren’t dealing with this.
Mr. Blackbourne walked out the back door this time. I imagined he was going to cut through the woods to get to the diner.
Victor went to the back door, looking through the blinds for a while. I imagined he was keeping an eye on Mr. Blackbourne. “I don’t think he’s slept,” he said quietly.
“I’m not sure any of us did. Did you?”
“Not really.” He came over to the bed and took his shoes off. He crawled on the bed to sit at my feet cross-legged. He drew my foot into his lap, holding it between his palms, warming the toes, before he started a slow and careful massage. The usual fire in his eyes had diminished to barely a glow. “You should rest. While you’ve got a chance.”
I breathed in deeply, sighing. “I will when you do.”
He smiled and gazed at my foot in his hands. His thumbs made circles against the bottom of my foot.
There was a noise deeper in the house. He looked up quickly, gazing at the door and waiting. “Is that Nathan coming back?”
“I don’t think so,” I said and then pointed to the laptop, where cameras were focused on the basketball game. “Nathan’s still out there. North’s here, though. Sleeping.”
He nodded, his eyes flickering to the door to my foot. He sighed. “Nathan’s a little ticked at me. For not telling him about...you. For keeping things to myself.”
“I told you not to.”
“I know, but I should have encouraged you a little more to tell them.”
He was right. “He did seem a little angry that you hadn’t told him. But I reminded him I was the one to tell you not to.”
“I may still want to apologize. This may be more to vent feelings than really blaming anyone. He tends to let things bottle up for a while and then burst. I need to talk to him.” He frowned a little. “I need to talk to Kota again, too.”
“You missed them both,” I said. I enjoyed that he was massaging my foot, but I was more concerned about him. I drew my foot from him so he’d look at me. “Victor, they shouldn’t be mad at you for that. I was the one that didn’t tell them.”
His lips twitched. He reached out again, but only cupped a hand across my ankle and held it. “I didn’t mean to yell at Kota so much.” His eyes closed, and it was the first time I noticed his eyelashes, long and black and something girls would be envious of. “I was just so angry when...”
I shifted again until I was on my knees on the bed. I reached for him, meaning to give him a hug and console him.
The bed shifted as I moved, threatening to throw me off as it rolled.
I got off balance and he grabbed me before I could tumble off the bed. However, I was half off and still sliding a little, upside down.
I giggled and shook my head, reaching down and touching the floor. “I don’t think I like waterbeds.”
He chuckled and tried to lift me up, but I was in an awkward position and unable to correct myself. “Probably will be easier if I let go.”
“Yeah,” I said.
He let me finish sliding to the floor, but when I got there and found the carpet was way more comfortable than the bed, I rested there, closing my eyes and covering my face with an arm. “I’m going to complain about this a thousand times before it’s over, but I really don’t want to go back to the house.”
“I know,” he said, and slid off the waterbed and onto the floor. He crawled over me, hovering close enough I could sense him, but he didn’t touch me. “You okay?”
“I’ll be better,” I said and pulled my arm away from my face.
He propped himself up on the floor beside me, leaning into me. “Is this better?”
I meekly nodded, feeling close and hidden with him on the floor behind the bed. It was easier to relax than trying to balance on the waterbed.
His lips curled into a smirk. “Tell me what you want to do. Are we doing this right?”
“Yes,” I said quietly. “I guess so. I can’t think of what else to do.”
“I can’t, either,” he said. He placed a gentle hand against my face, brushing at my cheek. “I know I’d rather take you back home. Or anywhere else.”
I had a hand on his arm, and my fingers twitched, tapping slightly without any rhythm. I slowed when I looked at his eyes, the fire that simmered now. “I’m sorry,” I said.
He shook his head, blinked at me. He moved his hand from my face to rest against my stomach, just shy of my rib cage. “For what? Why?”
“No one told me you were thinking of getting out from your house, too,” I said. “Not until today. We’re spending more time on me. Again. I’m stalling things for you.”
He gently gripped my stomach, some of the fabric of the shirt wrinkling against my skin. “No, no...sweetie.” He leaned in slowly until he could kiss my brow and spoke more softly. “My situation at home isn’t like yours. You can’t compare it.”
“But your dad...”
He gripped my stomach a little tighter and then relaxed it. He was very warm and then breathed out hotly against me.
After a moment, he sat up against the bed. “My parents want me to be their puppet. Like wearing this...” He tugged the sweater off and tossed it onto a chair in the corner. He undid his tie as well and put it on the bed behind him.
I sat up next to him, sliding close to be beside him as he adjusted his shirt.
He untucked it and unbuttoned it completely, revealing a white tank shirt underneath. The shirt framed his strong, lean chest and abdomen. He kept the sleeves rolled up. When he was done, he tilted his head back and made a grunt in his throat. “Being around my team...around you...it’s like the only time I don’t feel I’m being watched and judged.”
“I wish you didn’t have to feel like that at all,” I said.
He smirked a little and kissed my forehead. “Then maybe you can stay around all the time,” he whispered against my skin.
“I’d like to,” I said quietly. I turned to him and reached for his hand, onl
y he moved it at the last moment and I ended up pressing my hand against his stomach instead.
My cheeks were on fire, but I left my hand there, warming his skin and holding him. I stared down at it.
He shifted, reaching to place a hand at my hip and side, pulling me near.
My hand drifted up to his chest. I admired his chest and felt the ripples in the tank shirt he wore and how it framed his lean body.
His head tilted until he caught my eyes, but his gaze traveled to my lips quickly.
He leaned in more and kissed me.
I held still, braced by the bed at my back. I kissed him slowly, as easily as he could play a song on the piano. I was getting comfortable kissing them.
I relaxed my mouth, my tongue sliding out to touch his lips.
He sucked in a breath and backed up, the fire in his eyes blazing. He said nothing, only looked over my face and my lips again.
He leaned back in, kissing, lips parting shortly after. His tongue touched my lips, just once.
I reached out with mine.
He suckled it and his tongue disappeared. He continued to kiss without it.
I followed his lead. Did he not like it? I couldn’t tell.
His hand slipped from my stomach, sliding up toward my ribs. His grip was a little stronger, pulling me into him.
I was moving without thought, wanting to go where he wanted me, until he guided me to straddle his lap, sitting on top of him.
I sucked in a breath between kisses as I held onto his shoulder, trying to balance myself. Being higher than him, it was a little strange to be kissing down.
He held me by the waist for a moment and then reached back, tugging off the Armani shirt, tossing it to the floor. His hands came back to me, to my waist again, and then slid down my hips.
My heart raced. His kisses became stronger.
He made it too easy to forget where I was and what I had to do later. This was an escape, a moment where I could pretend it was just him and me.
The sliding door to the back porch rattled for a second and opened quickly, too quick for me to consider what it was and move.