“Oh no! Did I hurt you? I don’t know my own strength sometimes.” He tried once more, albeit more gently, to put her in her seat.
“Stop it!” She pulled out of his grip.
His eyes went wide, and his back curved like he was shrinking in on himself. This tall guy was disappearing before her eyes.
“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on here. I think it’s great we like each other, but—”
His eyes popped open so high that his scrunched up forehead shrunk to half its normal size. “You really like me? You’re not just saying that because you feel bad or cornered into it? My dad says not to do that. I don’t mean to. But at the same time, I have to be honest. Lying is never good.”
Once more, he gripped her and made a move to put her in her chair.
“I don’t want you to manhandle me like this!” she said through gritted teeth.
His eyes went from wide-eyed adoration, to downright terrorized.
“Hey, I—” She moved his hands off her.
The next thing she knew, he was chanting math equations over and over, rocking in place.
“Mari, what’s wrong? Is this guy touching you?” one of her classmates, Rory, asked. He approached them, and the second he contacted Adam by lightly shoving him out of the way, Adam erupted in a series of shrieking math numbers.
“Pi multiplied by—” Adam howled even louder as Rory reached out to touch him again.
Mari smacked Rory’s arm away. “Don’t touch him! Only his sister and I can do that!” she screamed at Rory, then turned to the emotionally crippled guy in front of her. His auburn hair was all she could see since his whole chin was now tucked into his chest, and his arms were wrapped around his torso while he took on a protective stance.
“Adam, it’s me . . . Mari. I’m gonna touch you now. Don’t yell, okay?” Her hands shook.
He kept chanting with a wild, piercing edge to his voice.
The minute her hand landed on his shoulder, he sunk into a squat and curled his whole body into a ball. His caterwauling subsided into murmurs, but the numbers were still being spoken.
She squatted down next to him and rubbed his back. He started rocking back and forth to the rhythm of her strokes.
“Please, what can I do? Can you look at me and tell me, sweetie? I want to help,” she whispered.
Adam shook his head, but barely.
She glanced up at Rory. “Can you go find his sister, Samara? She’ll know what to do.”
Rory nodded, then turned to go.
She considered getting ahold of Adam’s phone, but with the way he freaked out earlier about her touching his sister’s phone, she decided it would be better to just keep talking instead.
The teacher stepped into the room and seemed oblivious to the ball of a man huddled in the back corner with Mari trying to coax him back to life.
“No!” Adam hollered and scrambled to his seat like his life would end if Samara joined them. “Don’t do that. Just go away!”
Rory shrugged and went back to his seat.
Mari was unsure if Adam was talking to both her and Rory, or only Rory. She took a tentative step toward the seat next to Adam and asked, “Can I sit here next to you?”
He sat motionless and absolutely quiet. It reminded her of a sentinel, guarding something.
Maybe he was. Maybe he was guarding his heart and his emotions. He seemed to have a surplus of them at times.
Mari took his lack of response to mean she could sit there.
Her bottom lip tucked into her teeth as she went about trying to make sense of it all and acting like everything was back to normal.
Only it wasn’t. Nothing was normal. Not anymore—not since Adam had crashed his way into her life.
As a gesture of goodwill and acceptance, she extended her hand out on their table with her palm up.
Whether or not he took it was entirely up to him, and she wouldn’t blame him at all if he decided against it.
He took a deep breath, then with lightning speed, he took it and placed it right back in that spot he had it stuck to before she’d ever protested.
Her heart swelled, knowing he still wanted her to help him.
Goodness, he was working his way into her heart really quickly. Or at the very least, he was making it pound furiously at the moment.
The teacher maneuvered his way over to them. “I think you two need to go to the office.”
“Why?” She wore a blank expression as if nothing amiss had happened at all.
“I don’t allow outbursts like that, and I have no idea who this student is,” he answered and pointed at Adam.
“He had his schedule changed.” Mari leaned over and grabbed the paper Adam had at some point settled on the desk in front of the spot where he wanted to be and now sat. “Everything’s in order, and we’re behaving now. We simply had a moment of adjustment, is all.” She smiled, but it felt false to her and probably resembled more of a grimace.
The teacher read the schedule and the note at the bottom from the counselor, explaining the reason for the change.
“If this is your boyfriend, and you’re planning to sit by him, I have to remind you—hand-holding is fine, but I don’t want to see any funny business back here between you two.” The teacher glared at Adam.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, squeezing Adam’s hand in the process to reassure him.
“But I want to be,” Adam added. “And someday she might decide she likes me more than she does now.”
Her head slowly cranked in his direction, and she looked at him with wide eyes and an opened jaw. What. Did. He. Say?
The things that came out of his mouth . . .
“Fine. Behave, and we’ll all get along just great,” the teacher pronounced and went back to the front of the classroom.
“I liked sitting in the front. This is my favorite class,” Mari mumbled to herself.
“The lights at the front are too blinding. They’ve brightened throughout the day, and the megahertz are—”
“Okay, I get it. We need to sit here. It’s fine.” She wanted to hang her head in defeat, but something told her if she did that, he’d get down on himself and she couldn’t bear to see him do that. The poor guy was stressed easily as it was. “But I do plan to participate even from back here in our cave.” She snapped her jaw shut. Her instinct was to tell him he was not in charge and to quit acting like his micro-manager of a sister, but she knew deep down he wasn’t trying to be a jerk or tell her what to do. This was probably how he survived day-to-day. It was important he get his needs met. Somehow she simply knew that, so she kept her mouth shut.
“I don’t like CFLs,” he tacked on at the end of their conversation.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She pulled out her pencil and rolled it on the desk.
“You definitely like me.” He grinned and settled into his seat.
Mari sunk into her chair too and figured taking notes was unnecessary for this class anyway. She knew the literature because she was a bookworm and studied the classics for fun.
They were reading Jane Eyre, and it was doubtful this teacher could provide any kind of decent insight she didn’t already know since she’d read it three times.
Adam was silent for the rest of the class, but there were a few times she felt his fingers kind of caressing hers, and he even patted the back of her hand, then gently squeezed it. Those actions made her fingers tingle, and she would inadvertently wind up kneading his side and ribs. It certainly was warm and cozy—that spot he intended to keep their hands.
Yep. He still smelled terrific. That was a plus, making it unlikely her hand would wind up stinking like a sweaty teenage boy’s armpit or something—if she ever got it back, that was.
When the bell rang, Adam remained sitting with a stoic look on his face.
“It’s lunch time,” she reminded him.
“I know.”
“Are we going, then?”
“No.”
She nud
ged his leg. “Why not? Aren’t you hungry?”
“You’ll ditch me.” His head sagged forward, but he looked up at her through his lashes. “You’re already sick of me. I’m trying your patience.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind that you have some preferences.” She offered a kind smile while her heart sunk.
How could she have hurt him? She didn’t mean to. And why did her eyes sting so badly?
“You really don’t mind?” His voice shook.
“No. It’s nice to be needed sometimes,” she said, reminding him of how he told her she would like to be needed by him so much. She nudged his leg once more and stood up.
He rose slowly after her, but his head stayed down.
“Why don’t I lead the way this time? But I’ll let you pick where we sit, okay?” She waited for him before she began to lead the way.
“You really won’t leave me alone in there? Cafeterias are vile places. I have a hard time being in them.” His lips trembled.
She took his other hand and faced him straight on. This hand was ice-cold. “Why would I leave my good friend, Adam, who likes to be with me? I don’t have a ton of friends, so I’m always happy to have more. Especially ones who smell good and say what they mean.” Oh shit! She did not just say that.
Odds were, he would use it against her at some point. She really needed to think more carefully before she spoke. But how was she supposed to do that when he was constantly so jarring to be around?
He swallowed and gave a brief hint of a nod.
She let go of his hand and reached for her backpack she had barely been able to secure the last few times he took off.
“I’ll carry that for you from now on. It’s the least I can do since I’m such a social cripple.” He snatched it out of her hands.
“I’ve got it,” she said, reaching for it to take it back.
He swung it behind him, and a look of utter devastation crossed his eyes. “I want to help you, too. And if this is all I can offer you, then you’re going to let me!”
“Oh . . . If you . . . Okay.” She had no idea what to do or say around him. She swallowed, and her breathing shallowed. He looked dangerous all at once.
It was like a strange cross between a man ingrained with manners but also unafraid to be violent—ready to cut down anybody that acted unseemly. But the chivalry ended there, because he bossed like he didn’t care about anybody else’s opinions but his own.
It was a dichotomy that fascinated her. He was her protector and simultaneous persecutor.
What a bizarre situation she was in.
Was this what it was like in the renaissance? A man there to defend her, but who also made her every choice for her, confusing the shit out of her and making her want to push back? It was freeing in a way, but also burdensome. She was an independent girl, and she needed to be able to do some things for herself.
She was going to have to speak up about this soon before it got even more out of hand . . .
“We’re sitting by that window. I need the natural light. When it’s cooler outside in a month, we’ll sit outside,” he said.
She chuckled. “You’re certainly good at expressing your feelings about things. Most guys’re unable to do that.”
He beamed at her. “Really? I’m good at that?”
“You are.” And at being someone she constantly wanted to look at. He was very good at that. Her smile grew wider.
An urge to kiss his cheek hit her, but she turned away and pulled him into a small line to get some food.
“This is healthy stuff,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
“Yeah? So? It’s the salad bar.” She shuffled forward.
“I’m not vegetarian. I need protein to build muscles and keep my energy levels up, otherwise I can’t focus,” he said, pulling away and taking her with him.
She stopped him by yanking back. “Well, I eat a salad for lunch. I’m not necessarily vegetarian, but the meat dishes here are swimming in unhealthy fats and they have unnecessary sugar.” She leaned back and locked her knees so he couldn’t haul her off. “I can’t eat that crap.”
“Why not? It tastes good.” He stared at her like she was a monster.
“I don’t like to talk about it.” She frowned. “Why don’t you let go of my hand, go get what you want to eat and then we’ll meet back at the table you picked out.”
His hand shook in hers. “I don’t wanna let go.”
“You can do it. It’ll be for five minutes or less. I swear, I’ll go straight to our table after I get my salad and drink. I’ll always keep in your eyesight. I promise.”
“Your eyes are beautiful. I like that color of gray. It reminds me of a cool metal, and how refreshing it is to touch on a hot day. I think that’s how you’re able to calm me down when I’m all boiling like a lava man. You’re cool. You’re the ice to my heat. See why we belong together?”
“Wow. You think my eyes are beautiful?” She swallowed. No one had ever said that to her before.
“They’re more than pretty. They’re the friend to my soul. They make me feel comfortable and welcome. That’s special.”
“Thank you,” she said like it was a question.
“You don’t have to thank me. They’re your eyes you carry with you that keep me happy. They’re interesting to look at, so I do. All class long—I look at them and try to find out what they’re about. It’s a mystery I like exploring, and you’re so nice—you actually let me. Some people get really mad when I do that. But you don’t.”
“Uh.” She almost trembled in place. He was giving her chills down her spine. No one spoke like this—so unencumbered and unworried about their candor. It was moving. Not just to her mind, but to her body as well.
“It’s okay. I know it’s strange to have someone be so invasive. I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re like a pulley system I’m rigged to. You move one way, and I have to follow. Your eyes speak, and I have to answer. It’s like a system we can’t deny.” He smiled and rocked back on his heels.
“Okay. I think that can be a good way to explain it.” She rubbed the back of her elbow. It was a little achy from being dragged about.
“It’s the only way I can think about it, otherwise I’ll go nuts, because I really don’t know all the answers.” His nostrils flared.
Was something bugging him?
“What is it?” She took her hand off her elbow and set it on his wrist.
“I really, really don’t wanna let go. You’re better than okay, Mari. You’re a pretty little light that shows me the way. I’m in the dark sometimes when I’m in public, but you know the steps. I think you can take me where I need to go.” His eyes misted.
Whoa. What the fuck was going on? She wanted to step back, but instead, she stepped into him.
“It’s gonna be all right. It’s not so dangerous as all that. It’s just high school. I mean, most of the boys your age are like dealing with a pack of hyenas, but if you know how to blend in, they won’t mess with you.” She blinked and dropped her gaze.
His feet were almost touching hers. They were very close. It probably looked like they were dating or something.
In order to make sure there was no misunderstanding, she released his hand and walked away. But not without a wave first.
He smiled, but it was a wistful one.
God, Jesus, and anything holy—please help her. He was turning her heart to mush.
He started to mumble the twelves multiplication table to himself. She smiled at him and gave him the hush signal, mouthing, “Blend in, okay?”
He nodded, and his little twitchy smile broke her heart. She was ready to go back to him and eat whatever unhealthy schlop he was going to dish up on his tray, but then she remembered why she couldn’t do that and went back to her line for a salad.
A loud breath hit her a moment later. She pivoted around, and there was Adam, looking completely lost and miserable.
“Adam . . .” She reached out and stroked his cheek with the
back of her hand. “I don’t abandon my friends—and you are my friend. Trust me. Get your lunch. We’ll sit together. Go now.” She shooed her hand at him a little. “You can do this.” She smiled once more, and he reciprocated with a frightened, but genuine smile as well. He angled the lower half of his body away from her. “Go.”
Was she scaring him? He seemed torn with the way his body was all twisted in half.
“Sam says I need friends, and it’s okay to trust them.”
“Samara is as smart as she is pretty.”
He stepped back. “You think another girl is pretty? Are you homosexual?”
She laughed. “Not the last time I checked. But I can admit when another person of the same sex is attractive without it meaning I want to . . . Never mind.” She cut herself off because his whole face scrunched in confusion. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll meet you at the table in five minutes.” She shooed him away again with her hand.
“I’ll be counting the seconds,” he said.
If she was smart, she’d know that statement was a fact and be more than a little concerned. It wasn’t said as a type of rhetorical musing on his part. He was pretty confident she was going to be his girlfriend in the near future. What was she supposed to do about that?
What could she do? So far, he was an unstoppable force.
And for some reason, she was drawn to him and wasn’t even sure if she wanted to talk some sense into him. That was the craziest thought of all, so she hustled to get her food before she let her imagination run wild. There were things she needed to take care of before he was at her side again.
When she sat down, he wasn’t nearby. She sighed with relief as she slipped her homemade salad dressing from her bag and added a little bit of chicken to her dish that she’d brought from home. The chunks were pushed down to the bottom of her bowl so he wouldn’t see them and make a fuss about it, which would result in asked questions she was uncomfortable answering.
She wiggled her hips into her seat, forcing herself to relax and get comfortable. He was a prying sort of guy—that much was clear. But if she was careful, she could avoid certain things like this so they could continue to get along.
Harkham's Case (Harkam's #1) Page 3