by Rosie Somers
“You’re probably used to more sun where you’re from, huh?”
I consider not answering him. I mean, I can’t exactly tell him the truth, can I? I’m more used to moonlight than sunlight because I’m an international jewel thief from a long line of jewel thieves, and that’s more of a nighttime career. Oh, and I’m here hiding out from a European crime boss my mother and I pissed off. He’d either think I was lying or crazy. Or both. And on the off chance he did believe me, the truth would only put him in danger. I settle for the simple truth.
“I didn’t really spend a lot of time outside during the day. But I suppose the weather is only what you make of it. Actually, my favorite is rain.”
“Rain, huh?”
“Sure. Not like a thunderstorm or anything but a soft drizzle, just enough to make some noise when it hits the window.” I sneak a glance at Will to gauge his reaction.
He’s staring thoughtfully up at the sky. “My favorite weather is the very beginnings of snowfall. Before there’s really any powder on the ground but there’re snowflakes in the air that land on your face and hands. And tongue.” He closes by sticking his tongue out in a mock attempt to catch invisible snowflakes, and I laugh.
The air between us is silent for the rest of the walk, but it’s not an awkward silence. There’s something easy about being near Will, like he’s not expecting anything of me and is just content walking quietly together.
When we pass the spot on the retaining wall where I first saw him with his buddies, they’re there waiting for him, and Nicky jumps to his feet to high-five Will. “He-ey, Cam-Bull!” And then to me, “How’s our new friend?” He’s not as put together as Will. In fact, he looks like he rolled out of bed and threw on yesterday’s wrinkled black tee and jeans and topped it with a gray hoodie that, judging from the looks of it, probably smells like dog.
“Hey.” Will greets his friend but doesn’t high-five him. “This is Marisol.”
He does remember my name.
To me, he says, “You met Nicky already—and that’s Anton.” He points first to the hot mess blocking our path, then to a more subdued, and more put together, boy still sitting on the retaining wall. The other boy lifts a hand to wave shyly before returning his attention to his phone.
“Hi,” I say, but don’t know what to add after that. Even if I was good at small talk, I don’t like the way Nicky’s looking at me like I’m just Will’s latest conquest.
“You guys are getting pretty cozy, huh?” Nicky smiles a knowing smile.
Even though the idea of getting cozy with Will sets off a flurry of nervous energy in my gut, my cheeks heat, and I shift so there’s a few extra inches of space between Will and me.
“Don’t mind Nicky,” Will tells me. “He’s been trying to live vicariously through my love life since Wendy McGillis sat next to me and not him during circle time in kindergarten. He means well. He just doesn’t understand boundaries.” Will punctuates his last word with a playful punch to his friend’s shoulder. Nicky grabs his shoulder in an exaggerated gesture and pretends to fall back on the retaining wall, catching himself at the very last moment, and Will laughs.
I take a step toward the building, then another. “Hey, I gotta hit up the office for something. I’ll catch you later.” I throw the words over my shoulder as I reach the front door. Will is right there next to me and opens the heavy metal door.
“Thanks.” I slip through and continue toward the office.
He catches up to me with easy strides, and I feel like a hamster running with tiny legs on a big wheel, trying to shake him and getting nowhere.
“You don’t have to come with me.”
“Okay, see you in class.”
I fight the urge to watch him as he strolls away, busying myself, instead, with my phone. I think about checking my timeline, but I already know there’s going to be nothing new there. I don’t have any close friends to leave me status updates or fun memes. So I text my mother to let her know I’ve made it safely. Her response is almost immediate:
Have a great day! Love you!
I tuck the phone back into my pocket and sneak a self-conscious glance around. Not that anyone’s close enough to see who I’m texting. But I’m still a little self-conscious about messaging my mom to let her know I’m okay after a three-block walk to school.
When I get to the office, I spot Jamie behind his computer and smile. He waves back at me. Then I head straight for the rack with all the flyers, doing my best to blend in, even though there are far fewer students in here now than there were a couple of days ago.
I zero in on the call for drama club auditions almost immediately, but I can’t find a flyer listing any of the after-school clubs.
“Hey, Marisol! Can I help you find something?” Jamie sidles up next to me.
I hesitate and almost don’t answer him right away. Will he think I’m pathetic trying to join a club to make friends? So instead, I stand there staring at the wall of papers. I’m not nearly as self-conscious around Jamie as I am with Will, but it’s still uncomfortable admitting I don’t know how to make friends. Finally, I almost whisper, “I was thinking about joining a club and thought there might be some information about different offerings here.”
“Oh cool! Yeah, we have a lot of clubs.” He scans the racks quickly, then grabs a paper and hands it to me. “I’m in a couple of clubs myself. Student government, and stuff like that. If you need any help picking, let me know.” He smiles brightly, and the last of my nervousness evaporates.
“Thanks!” I scan the half-page list, then fold it and tuck it into the back pocket of my jeans for safekeeping. I’ll look it over when I get home. “I’ve got to get to class.” We exchange awkward goodbyes and I escape into the hall, then head for class.
Will’s sitting low in his desk when I get to Mrs. Leonard’s room. His head is tipped back, and his eyes are closed. Is he taking a nap? At 7:50 in the morning? I take my seat in front of him and pull out my book. No sooner have I settled myself than I hear him suck in a shaky breath.
“Even your hair smells like flowers,” he whispers almost imperceptibly, and his breath is warm on the back of my neck. Goose bumps break out everywhere his words touched.
The late bell rings, and the teacher enters the room. The door closes with a heavy thud behind her a heartbeat later. Great. How am I supposed to concentrate on math with my nerves on fire and every cell in my body hyper-focused on Will?
Chapter Five
I pull my coat out of my locker and slip into it, then heft my backpack onto my shoulders. My third day of school was exactly like the first two. I’m just one of hundreds of students floating through the day, and just as with days one and two, I’m doing it alone. Well, if I don’t count Don Juan and his keeper, I realize as I spot Nicky and Will sauntering toward me. I try to hide how excited I am to see Will but settle for ducking my face when I can’t quite stifle it.
“Walk you home?” Will stops in front of me, Nicky no longer at his side but digging deep into a locker several feet away.
I want to shout yes, and then melt into a puddle at his feet, but I hold myself together and put on a stern front, determined not to be transparent in my attraction to him. “You want to walk me home?” Instead of waiting for his reply, I shut my locker and head for the exit.
He blushes a soft pink. “Yeah, you know, to make sure you get there okay or whatever.” He shrugs.
“It’s three blocks.” I’m torn between feeling flattered that he’s worried about my safety and wondering if he thinks I can’t protect myself. With as much weapons training as I’ve had, I’d probably be the one protecting us both in the face of danger.
“Well, maybe I’m scared and want you around for protection.” His grin crooks to one side, and he winks. He’s teasing me.
And it’s working. “Well, come on then. Lag behind and I’ll leave you to fend for yourself.” I pick up the pace for effect, rushing out the front doors and skipping down the large stone steps to the
sidewalk. He lands on the sidewalk a moment after me, and Nicky is all but forgotten back at his locker as we turn in unison in the direction of my apartment building.
“How are you settling in?” His voice is tinged with genuine interest, and I catch myself wanting to let my guard down, to tell him exactly how much I’m not settling in, how lonely I am, how much I want to make friends but can’t shake the fear that my past will catch up with me and everything will blow up in my face.
“Okay. It’s different but good.” I think about asking him about himself, and eventually after we’ve walked hundreds of miles in silence, I manage, “Do you like living here?” Do you like me? I want to ask, but I keep that last question to myself.
“I do. Sometimes, I think it might be nice to live out in the country somewhere and have lots of fresh air and open land. My aunt and uncle have a few dozen acres upstate, and we go there to visit sometimes. It’s great, but after a week or so, I’m ready to get back to the city. Ready for corner pizza joints, my favorite coffee shop, and friends around every corner. Sure, the city is crowded—”
“And smelly,” I supply, wrinkling my nose teasingly.
“And smelly.” He chuckles. “But it’s home.”
I haven’t been here long, but I’m already starting to feel the same. The longer I’m in New York the more I see the appeal. We walk in peaceful silence the rest of the way, kind of like we did this morning.
We’re half a block from my place when Will tips slightly into a mock bow. “And this is where we part ways, flower. I’m two blocks that way.” He points down the street to his left. “Meet you here tomorrow morning?”
I don’t know why I do it, but I nod my assent. Will winks at me and turns on his heel to jog down the connecting street. I watch him go until he turns and catches me staring. Then, I head for my building without giving him a second glance.
Once I’m up in my apartment and have traded my school clothes for baggy sweats and fuzzy slippers, I settle on my window seat, determined to pick a club to join. I unfold the paper and scan the list that’s twice as long as I would have expected. There’s a bicycle club? I had no idea that was even a thing. It’s not my thing; that’s for sure.
French club? No, definitely not. I don’t need a reminder of everything I just went through and everything I’m trying to leave behind.
Book club sounds interesting, but I’m looking for something more interactive, something that isn’t a solitary sport.
I scan further down the list, past knitting club and cooking club and so many others, and settle on something I think I could get into. Photography club. Photography seems like a fairly quiet activity. One where I wouldn’t be the center of attention, could in fact hide behind the camera. I do have a little experience with photography from a reconnoitering perspective, prepping for jobs and all. And it meets tomorrow after school. That’s about as soon as soon could be.
What sort of equipment would I need for that? Where some of the clubs have supplies listed, this one doesn’t. A camera probably. Which means I’ll need to check with Mom about taking one of the “working” cameras we use for prep work on jobs. Used—past tense, I mentally correct myself. We don’t pull off heists anymore. And just that thought is enough to leave me feeling lighter. I’m suddenly looking forward to regular old photography club very much.
I fold the list and tuck it into the front pocket of my backpack. Tomorrow afternoon can’t get here fast enough.
…
As promised, Will is waiting for me at the corner when I arrive the next morning, and with two steaming cups of coffee in hand. The charmer. He holds one out to me when I’m within arm’s reach. “I didn’t know what you like”—he pauses and looks uncertainly at the cup—“or if you even like coffee.”
Until now, Will has seemed to have nerves of steel. But for the briefest of seconds, his cool facade cracks, and I see a boy trying to impress a girl. Is he really this into me, this quickly? Insta-love only happens in fiction. I don’t know him well enough to tell if he’s really into me or just trying to get in my pants, but I really hope it’s the former. Because I’m sure starting to fall for him already. Just the idea of being with him is enough to set a nervous tickle in the pit of my stomach and heat my cheeks.
I duck my head to hide my blush and take the cup he’s offering me. “Coffee’s great. Thanks.”
He watches me until I take a sip, as if he’s not quite sure he can trust that I do in fact like coffee. It’s sweeter than I like, but overall, it’s not the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted. And it certainly takes the edge off the morning chill. I take a second sip, and a third. By the time we get to school, I’m holding an empty cup.
“Whoa! This is getting serious. I’ve never seen Will walk the same girl to school twice. I think our boy’s in love, Anton.” Before we get to the front steps, Nicky bounces onto the sidewalk in front of us.
“Make a habit of walking girls to school, do you?” I keep my tone light and teasing, but deep down, I’m a little disappointed that this is something he does regularly with other girls.
Will blushes, looks down at his sneakers, and scuffs the toe of one back and forth across the pavement. “Not usually.” Then he looks up at me, charming smile back in place. “And I’ve never brought any girls coffee before.”
I place the hand not holding my empty cup against my chest and feign a swoon. “Oh, be still my heart!”
With a laugh, Will throws his empty cup at his friend, and Nicky tosses it back. Will catches it with ease and chucks it into a nearby trash can. He sets a hand on my backpack to encourage me forward, away from Nicky. “Ignore him. He’s just messing with us,” Will says as we enter the school. I expect him to drop his hand back to his side, but he doesn’t. Instead he lifts it, wraps it around my shoulders, and pulls me closer to him. “I think he’s jealous.”
I look up at him, and he winks at me.
“Yeah, probably. I am pretty awesome.” Where did that come from? I’ve never been good at banter. Unlocking a safe, yes. Flirting, not so much.
With his arm still around me, he accompanies me to my locker, then moves back to lean against the row next to me while I play musical books between my backpack and locker.
“You don’t have to wait here. I can find my way to class. Go on ahead; it’s cool, really,” I tell him.
“And miss the chance to walk into class with you on my arm? Not a chance.”
“So I’m arm candy?”
He leans in so that our faces are mere inches apart and, in the most bedroomy bedroom voice I’ve ever heard, says, “You are amazing.”
And just like that, I melt into a proverbial puddle of goo at his feet. My cheeks blaze with the heat of embarrassment, and I turn back to my locker and feign an intense interest in the contents in an effort to not let on that I’m basically putty in his hands.
The minute bell rings, saving me the embarrassment of trying to make conversation after that. I slam my locker shut and follow Will to the classroom. We step inside the room a split second before the late bell rings, and I slide into my seat while trying to avoid Mrs, Leonard’s disapproving stare. I can feel Will’s attention on me, and against my will, all of my attention is on him. It’s going to be a long class period.
…
At lunch, I do the same thing I’ve done all week. I wait by my locker for an extra few minutes until the throngs of students navigating the halls thin. Then I head for the cafeteria. With everyone already ahead of me in the food line or surrounded by their friends at their tables, hopefully I go unnoticed as I get my own lunch. Once I’m through the line, I scan the cafeteria for the most secluded empty seat. Today, it’s the far back corner near the doors leading out to the square.
I cross the room quickly with my attention zeroed in on my target: one of the empty seats at the corner table. When I sit, I do my best to melt into the chair and fade away from human sight. If there were a way to blend in with my surroundings like a chameleon, I would totally use it
right now. Nothing reminds me how alone I am, or makes me feel more conspicuous, than the crowded lunchroom, practically overflowing with laughing, smiling students enjoying time with their friends.
I pull my favorite novel out of my bag, open to the page I last left off on, and prop my feet up on the chair next to me. I’ll eat my lunch with my nose buried in a book, just like I’ve done all week.
I’m still on the first page when the table jostles and a body lands in the seat on the other side of me. It’s probably just someone else looking for a secluded place to disappear to. I don’t bother looking up from my book. In my periphery, a pale hand reaches out and nabs a French fry from my tray. That gets my attention.
I lower my book and turn to face my food thief, and I’ve got a pretty good idea who it is.
“Will.” Who else would be so daring as to grab food off my plate?
“Hey there, flower. Why ya eating all alone over here?” He grabs another fry and stuffs it in his mouth.
“I’m reading.”
“Must be a good book.” Another fry gone. If he stays much longer, I’m not going to have any left.
“Don’t you have your own lunch?” I eyeball his hand as he reaches for more.
He stops mid-reach and retracts his hand. He blushes guiltily for all of two seconds, then says, “How come you sit alone at lunch?”
I shrug. I don’t want to tell him the truth, that he’s the only person here I know. “I like the silence. You should try it sometime.”
“Eating alone?”
“Silence,” I tell him with a teasing grin.
He feigns hurt with a fisted hand to his heart. “Oh, flower, how you wound me!”
I can’t hold back an audible laugh.
And the truth is, I’m not exactly bothered by him sitting with me. He isn’t the worst company a girl could have. But I also don’t know anything about him. Years of heist work have taught me to never go into a situation blind.