Collide

by Melanie Stanford

  “Ashley?” He looked away. “Mags, I—”

  “It’s great. I’m so happy for you.” I didn’t sound happy. But I really was. For him. Just not in general.

  “Oh.” His shoulders lowered. “Well, good. She’s really nice.”

  “I’m sure she is.”

  He looked at me. I hadn’t meant that to sound sarcastic or condescending. Hank wouldn’t pick any other kind of girl. He wasn’t interested in the girls who got around, the party girls or the ones with bad reputations. He didn’t want lying or cheating or boozing. Even though he was only twenty, he wanted a wife.

  I hadn’t wanted that a few months ago, and still didn’t. I barely knew what I wanted anymore, aside from getting into Essence. Jay Thornton flashed in my head and I almost laughed. I didn’t want Jay, I was only thinking about him because he’d been the only one who’d been interested in me.

  “Anyway—” I started.

  “I should—” Hank said at the same time.

  We both let out a nervous laugh.

  “Yeah, I should go,” I said. “It was nice seeing you, though. I’m glad everything worked out.” I moved past him to the front counter.

  “Did it?” he asked.

  The lie slipped easily off my tongue. “Of course.”

  When I got home, there was a giant package sitting near the front door.

  “What’s this?” I asked when Mom appeared at the top of the stairs. She hurried down.

  “It’s from your brother!” she said. “Can you believe it? Frasier never sends gifts.”

  Frasier never had the money to send gifts before. I examined the box. There was no return address, just his name in the top left corner in big bold letters.

  “I was waiting for you to get home so we could open it together.” Mom called my father who materialized from his office. He picked up the box with a grunt and carried it to the Christmas tree.

  Mom handed Dad a kitchen knife and he sliced through the tape. Inside was a pile of crumpled newspaper. Dad took it all out, and Mom immediately placed it in recycling. When she was back, Dad lifted out the presents. There were four, all wrapped in Santa-themed paper.

  Mom opened hers first. It was an exquisite porcelain statue of Mary holding the baby Jesus. “Oh,” my mom breathed. She held it tenderly in her hands.

  Dad’s present was a collection of books on doctrine and scripture study. Dad’s mouth dropped open. These weren’t the kind of presents typical of Fraze, and not just because of the cost. He usually got us gag gifts—like the time he got me a Santa that pooped M&Ms. Or when he got my Dad a card that said, “You’re old enough to be told that the Easter Bunny and Jesus aren’t real.”

  Dad did not like that one bit.

  I opened mine, tearing off the paper and hoping my brother hadn’t gotten me a golden cross or something. My package was much smaller. I lifted the lid off the box and stared.

  It was a pair of Undeez—contemporary dance shoes made of leather strips. I’d made mine and they looked dreadful. Now I had a real pair. How had Fraze known?

  “These are quite the gifts,” Mom said. My parents exchanged glances, probably wondering how Fraze could afford it all.

  Dad handed Mom the last box. There were also two envelopes. One he handed to me, it had my name on it. The other he opened.

  “Dear fam,” he read. “I hope these get to you by Christmas but I was cutting it a little close. Sorry if they’re a few days late. It’s the thought that counts, right? Anyway, I have a great new job and I wanted to get you guys some good stuff this year. But I couldn’t help getting one of my gifts. You know what I’m talking about. Merry Christmas to you all, and to all a good night! Love, Frasier.”

  Mom unwrapped the present and I tried not to laugh. It was Cards Against Humanity. “A game for horrible people,” my mom read. Dad’s mouth tightened. It would go straight in the dumpster. Dad wouldn’t re-gift it because he wouldn’t want anyone else to be corrupted.

  Mom put the game aside and picked up her statue. She ran her hands along the off-white porcelain. “This really is beautiful,” she said, probably trying to distract my dad from the game. “I wonder how he could afford it?”

  I slipped off my fuzzy socks and tried on my Undeez. They were a perfect fit. “His job sounds pretty good.” How had Fraze known the size of my feet? “He said he’s working for a record producer or something.” I didn’t meet their eyes; I didn’t like to lie. But maybe it wasn’t a lie. For all I knew, he could’ve taken that job, if it existed.

  Who was I kidding?

  “So he says.” Dad sat down in his chair, the stack of books on his lap. He started flipping through one.

  My brother’s letter to me sat unopened on my lap. I took it, and my new dance shoes, and slipped out of the room.

  Upstairs, I went into Frasier’s old room. All of his stuff had been cleared out, either taken by him or boxed away. The furniture was still the same, but empty. Only his navy blue plaid comforter reminded me of him. I sat down on the edge of the bed and tore open the letter.

  “Hey sis. Hope you like my present. I had to do some reconnaissance before I left to figure out what you might want. I went through your stuff multiple times, even your unmentionables. GROSS. Anyway, I found your taped up pieces of crap that I assumed were shoes in your dance bag, and that’s when I knew. It wasn’t hard to charm the girl at the dance clothes store to help me out. *wink wink*

  I hope you have a great Christmas, but don’t get trapped there. Go back to Vegas, get Bronwyn away from that soul-sucking boyfriend, and give Dad a heart attack by getting into that dance company. Got it? These are things you have to do and I expect you to do them. Get a better job while you’re at it. Never mind that last bit. I want free food when I visit again. Love and stuff. F.”

  A storm of emotions swirled inside me. An ache over missing my brother. Annoyance that he thought the food had been free. And sadness at the mention of Bronwyn. He didn’t know. How could he? I hadn’t emailed him since he left.

  I sighed, scrubbing away the tears at the corners of my eyes. I’d have to tell him, but not yet.

  I refolded the letter and put it back in the envelope. Fraze, Bronwyn, they all thought I could do it. Be more than the girl from Hillstone. More than Hank’s wife or the preacher’s daughter.

  I’d gone to Vegas thinking the same, but it hadn’t turned out the way I thought. I’d become more, in some ways, and also less. But I still didn’t know who that person was, or who I was supposed to be.

  The only way to find out was to go back. To try again and again, like Bronwyn had said. When I’d been in Vegas before, I’d made a start. It was time for me to finish.

  Chapter 43

  MAGGIE

  I only spent two weeks at home, but it was hard to return to Las Vegas. My mind tugged in both directions. Stay in Hillstone where everything was safe, but static. Return to Vegas, to an apartment without Bronwyn and back into the world of Jay Thornton and Simon Ting. I was going back to nothing but trouble. Or nothing and trouble.

  The apartment was cold when I stepped inside, cold with the breath of a thousand ghosts. Or just one. The first night back, I flicked on all the lights and didn’t turn any of them off, even when I went to bed. I’d been lonely when I first came to Vegas, but Bronwyn had saved me from it. Now I had nothing and no one to keep the loneliness away. So I kept myself busy.

  I searched for a job. I ate Cup-o-Soup and walked everywhere to keep expenses down. Bronwyn’s bike still rested against one wall in the apartment, but riding it didn’t feel right. Dad had lent me some money and I didn’t bother telling him I didn’t need it right then. I would eventually, plus I was grateful for it. Not just the cash, but the meaning behind it. That he was starting to support my decision. If only he knew about Officer Ting.

  I went back to Eastside Boxing to check on Nico, and hopefully to practice. The lights were on and Imagine Dragons blasted from a stereo somewhere inside. Jay was going crazy on a punching bag,
his shoulders hunched near his ears, his dark hair slick with sweat. He wore low-slung shorts and no shirt, the muscles on his back rippling.

  He didn’t spot me staring, which was probably a good thing. I couldn’t help myself. He had the kind of body I’d only ever seen in movies, and it was breathtaking. I never thought I was the kind of girl to get all hot and bothered over a six-pack, but I was this close to fanning myself.

  I crept past him. When I reached the stairs, I looked back. Jay was holding the punching bag, his eyes on me. There was something in his face, but I was too far away or I didn’t know him well enough to understand what it meant. I turned away.

  Nico wasn’t home when I knocked, or he wasn’t answering. I sincerely hoped he wasn’t passed out in there…or worse.

  I put in my earbuds and did some laps around the small space next to his apartment. I did jumping jacks, ran in place with my knees up, and did some chasés around the room. My ankle had healed up over the holidays; it didn’t twinge at all. I was in the middle of stretching on the floor when Nico came up the stairs.

  His mouth moved, but I didn’t hear him. I turned my music off.

  “Hi,” I said, giving him a hesitant smile. He was pale with dark rings under his eyes, but at least he looked sober.

  “I didn’t think you’d come back.” He opened his apartment door.

  “You and me both.” I rose from the floor and followed him in. “Do you think Jay…McCrary will mind if I keep practicing here?”

  “Nah, I’m sure it’s fine.” His apartment was clean. Not one beer bottle. Nico must have seen me looking because he said, “It’s all gone.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “At first, I thought I could cut back a bit and still be fine.” He set his keys on the kitchen table. He stared at it as if afraid to face me. “But that’s what they all think, don’t they? Then I’d wake up in the morning, or the afternoon, and not remember a thing about the night before.” He looked at me. “All or nothing. I’ve always been that kind of guy.”

  “How’s it been?” I asked gently.

  He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Hell.” The table was covered in books and a laptop.

  “Project?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I’ve gotta do something to keep busy.”

  “I know what that’s like. I need a job. Know anywhere that’s hiring? Not a diner? Or fast food. Or food of any kind.”

  “If I did, I’d be working there instead of here,” he replied. “What are you looking for?”

  I flipped through the books. “I’d prefer somewhere cool, you know? Like a kitschy shop or a boutique that sells great clothes. Something interesting. But I’ll probably have to settle for whatever I can get.” I held up a book. “Accounting?” The other books were about managing a small business, entrepreneurialism, and Managing Debt for Dummies.

  “Trying to brush up. It’s been awhile.”

  I hid a smile. Bronwyn would be proud. And more than a little annoyed that he hadn’t gotten his butt in gear when she was alive.

  I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  At the door, Nico called my name.

  “Thanks,” he said. “For the pep talk before Christmas, I mean. I needed it.”

  At least I’d done something right.

  My audition piece wasn’t right. No matter what I did, what I danced, what I added or took away, it was missing something. But I still had a couple more months to dig deep and choreograph something amazing. YouTube videos might help, or past seasons of So You Think You Can Dance. Maybe they’d inspire me.

  I hurried down the steps of the gym and almost collided with Nico at the bottom. He was mopping the floors. It was the first time I’d actually seen him do any janitorial work.

  “See you later, Maggie,” he said, giving me a wave before bending back to his mop.

  “Bye.”

  Jay was sitting behind the front desk, brows furrowed, a spread of papers in front of him. He’d put a hoodie on, zipped to his neck. He rubbed his forehead with one hand, the pen between his fingers almost poking him in the eye. I tried not to laugh.

  He looked up at me as I passed and my eyes darted away.

  “You came back.”

  I put my boots on, dug a hat out of my bag. I couldn’t tell if he was happy that I was back or not.

  “I didn’t think you’d come back,” he said, his voice flat.

  He didn’t mean the boxing gym. “I thought about staying home, in Hillstone.”

  “Is that where you’re from?”

  I nodded. Of course he wouldn’t know that. We’d barely had a real conversation before. Not about anything normal.

  “It’s small. You’ve probably never heard of it.” He wouldn’t want to go to a place like Hillstone. Too tame. Too boring for a guy like Jay.

  He looked down at the papers on the desk. “What’s it like?”

  “It’s beautiful. Green in the summer. White in the winter. Like a painting.” I tried to picture Jay there, walking down Main Street, or sitting on the porch swing at home, but I couldn’t see it. He wasn’t meant for anywhere but Vegas.

  “Why didn’t you stay?” His tone was harsh and a little offensive.

  My anger flared. “Sometimes I really don’t know.”

  Truth was, I’d missed Vegas. At first, I assumed I was missing Bronwyn, but it wasn’t only that. I’d grown used to the noise, the bustle, the constant activity of strangers around me, the lights from the strip. I’d missed the possibilities I hadn’t taken advantage of yet. There were no possibilities in Hillstone, just dead ends. But I didn’t want to tell Jay that. Didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  “See you later,” I said. I was a little hurt when he didn’t say anything back.

  Chapter 44

  JAY

  Maggie was back in Vegas. I thought she’d be smart and stay away, especially after Bronwyn. But there she was, pushing her way out of the gym, a beanie perched on the back of her head, her hair falling down her shoulders. Back to complicate my life, and her own.

  I wanted to toss her all the way back to Hillstone and tell her to stay put. Simon would be out of the hospital any day now. If he wasn’t consumed by taking reign of Aguda’s gang, he might remember to threaten me by threatening her. I needed hard evidence on him before that happened.

  Maggie disappeared from view and I looked away, only to catch Nico’s eye. He had a mop in hand but he was standing there, smirking at me.

  “What?” I barked.

  He hitched his shoulders before bending over his mop. “Nothing.”

  Nico had been taking better care of the gym this past week than he had since he’d started. The place was always spotless now, even the bathrooms. The guy had been a borderline alcoholic before, but lately I hadn’t caught so much as a whiff on him.

  I tried to organize the front desk as best I could—McCrary would be in tomorrow to check the books. I filed away receipt copies, paper clipped a stack of permission forms for an upcoming tournament, then went through the messages blinking on the phone. One of them was from a parent who’d sworn they’d paid the yearly tuition up front but they’d received a statement for a balance owing. I searched through the filing cabinet for their name or a receipt of payment, but found nothing. I slammed the door shut with a growl.

  “Old man McCrary really should get a computer.” Nico leaned over the front desk, peering at the messages I’d scrawled.

  “You know how many times I’ve told him that?” I massaged the back of my neck. “I have no clue how he’s got everything organized, how am I supposed to find one client’s payment history?”

  Nico tapped the desk. “If you ever convince him, I can help him go paperless.”

  “You?”

  “I didn’t go to college to be a janitor, you know.”

  “I didn’t know you went to college at all.”

  “Accountant.” He must have read the disbelief on my face because he said,
“No really. I am.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing here?”

  “Bad luck and Simon Ting.” He played with the mop, switching the handle between both hands. “Can’t just blame that, though. It’s my fault too. Wrecked my own life, brought Bronwyn down with me.”

  Not that I didn’t respect him for fixing his life, but I didn’t need to get this personal with the guy.

  He lowered his forehead against the top of the mop handle. “She told me, over and over. But I wouldn’t listen. Now she’s gone and…” He looked up at me. “Anyway, she’d be proud I’m getting my act together. At least, that’s what Maggie says. I don’t really believe in all that heaven, afterlife, God kind of stuff.”

  “That sounds like Maggie.”

  “Yeah. Before Christmas, she told me to shape up. Said Bron was wasting her afterlife being disappointed in me, or something like that. I figure, I screwed up her life enough, I shouldn’t screw up her death, too.”

  Maggie was so full of belief in something other than herself. I didn’t know how to be like that.

  “I didn’t think Maggie would come back,” Nico said.

  My eyes flicked to his.

  “She had nothing to come back to, with Bron gone. I wasn’t exactly the greatest friend, letting her pay off my loan like that. And she doesn’t even have a job now. She got fired from that diner.”

  I fiddled with the papers on the desk. “Do you know where she got the money?”

  “No clue.”

  He didn’t blink. I might’ve called bull, but why would he know? Simon was off his back, that’s all he cared about. Maggie and Fred had whipped up the scheme on their own.

  “I owe her one,” Nico said. “Wish I could help her, but I can’t even find myself a decent job.”

  I shoved a drawer closed a little too hard and met his eyes. Why was he babbling at me? There was a knowing smirk on his lips and I wanted to punch it off his face.