by Smoke, Lucy
“If she finds it, don’t worry about it,” he reassured me. “I don’t want you getting into any trouble, but we need to get ahold of you if we need to.”
I was half-tempted to tell him that he could just do what Marv did before, but I couldn’t picture it being as easy for him to crawl through my bedroom window as Marv had made it seem.
Walking up to the duplex after being with the guys all day felt strange. Like I didn’t quite belong here anymore, yet nothing had physically changed. I grabbed the mail peeking out from the stained mailbox at the end of our empty driveway, and jogged to our front stoop.
“I’m home,” I called, quietly entering the foyer. There were a few low mumbles in the first bedroom and I followed the sleepy noises. Mom lay on her side, a fresh glass of water on her nightstand, and a plate with a few crumbs left. My phone lit up and I turned away from her bedroom before locking myself away in my room to pull it out and check the incoming text.
Texas:You will have the same number. Marv said he would prefer I change it. I can get you another number tomorrow.
Harlow:No need. This is fine.
I set the phone down, but almost immediately it buzzed to life again.
Texas:I’m exchanging the phone number tomorrow. You will keep your contacts.
I grunted and slammed the phone down once again, this time without answering. The phone buzzed and buzzed again. I ignored it until it began vibrating with an incoming phone call. Without glancing at the screen, I flicked the green answer button and began to hiss through the phone.
“Don’t call me when I’m home, my mom could hear!” It was embarrassing enough to tell them about the first incident. If it happened again, I would refuse any phone they might try to give me.
“Strict parents, huh?” The voice on the other end was not Texas. I pulled the phone away from my ear, but the caller ID read as an unknown number.
“W-who is this?”
“Forgotten me already?” he replied. “That’s a shame. I was wondering if you were sick or avoiding me since you didn’t show up to school today.”
“Grayson?”
“I guess you haven’t forgotten me then.” I could hear the smugness in his tone. “So, where were you today?”
“I was…nowhere, out…um…just doing errands. How did you get my number?”
“Your friend at the diner didn’t tell you?”
A light went off in my head. “It’s not nice to steal phones,” I said.
“Ah, well. You’re not wrong. But who said I was a nice guy? Besides, being nice is overrated. I’m only nice to people who deserve it.”
“Yeah? Then why are you talking to me?”
He paused. “I find you…interesting. I feel like we would make a good team and I’m a quarterback. I’m good at teamwork.”
“Well, I don’t find you interesting and maybe I already have a team. Don’t call me again.”
I clicked ‘end call’ and threw the phone at my bed, standing over it, seething. I couldn’t leave it there for long, though. I needed to tell someone that he had called. Instead, I found myself picking the phone back up when it began vibrating again.
“It’s not nice to hang up on someone. Seems like we have being ‘not nice’ in common, don’t you think?” Grayson asked with a dignified huff when I answered again.
“What do you want, Grayson?” I demanded.
“Come out with me.”
“What? No!” I glanced around my room.
He was a football player. He was used to cheerleaders in fancy uniforms, who did their nails every week, and didn’t have to scrounge for grocery money.
“You sure? It’ll be a fun night. If you’re not going to school tomorrow, then I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Who says I’m not going to school tomorrow?” I didn’t know if I was or not, but I assumed that I would be unless the boys said otherwise.
“Well, then let me pick you up. I’m sure you’d rather catch a ride to school than take the bus. I had to ride that thing for a whole year before I got a car.”
“Oh, wow.” I feigned amazement. “That must have been so hard for you.”
He laughed, deep, and full, and slightly smoky. I hated that I wanted to see what he actually looked like when he laughed like that, without reserve. From what I had noticed, usually when he laughed, it was subdued. A chuckle here. A smirk with a rumble there. Nothing so filling as this laugh. It made my insides warm. Why, though, I couldn’t say.
“I like you, Harlow. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 7:30 am. Be ready.”
“You don’t know where I live, and I never said yes!”
“Goodnight, Harlow.”
I slapped the phone on the nightstand and crawled under the covers after setting my alarm. The guys were right. I needed to change my phone number. My insides rebelled at the thought that I wouldn’t talk to Grayson again. Even though we still had school, who knew how many more days I would actually see him in person before he went his way and I went mine.
How much longer would Erika be my friend for that matter? I hadn’t spoken to her in a few days, which wasn’t unusual due to my work schedule and previous lack of phone. Still, I felt like we were growing further and further apart. She had been my constant for so long. Who would I be without her as a friend? Who was I now?
* * *
I almost had a heart attack as I opened my front door the next morning and found myself staring at a tall, surprisingly chipper, Grayson. He grinned, with one arm slung over his head on the door frame as he leaned against it.
“Man, girls take forever. You finally ready to go?”
“How did you–” I stepped back into my house and grabbed the doorknob, preparing to slam it shut and turn the deadbolt. “How did you know where I lived?”
“I asked that friend of yours.”
“Marv?” I shook my head, inching the door forward a bit. “He wouldn’t tell you.” Grayson grabbed the edge and held it, shaking his head.
“The girl…Erika?”
“You don’t even know her name?” I accused. “No. Just no. Get out of my way.” I brushed past him, shutting the door and locking it behind me. I headed straight for the curiously empty bus stop a few houses down, glancing around for the usual one or two other bus riders that lived in the neighborhood.
“Scared to be in a car alone with me?” Grayson’s footsteps echoed around the empty street as he followed behind me. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you jump me no matter how much you might want to.”
I rounded on him. “You!” Jabbing my finger at him, I sputtered, “You’re just…you’re horrible!”
“Nah, just trying to give a friend a lift.” He shrugged.
“We’re not friends.” My hands itched to go after my phone. I had received neither a phone call nor a text from any of the guys this morning.
“So, you don’t want a ride?”
I huffed, frustrated. “I have a ride. The bus has just as much ability as your…” I glanced behind him at his car, my eyes widening, “mustang does.”
He shrugged again. “Well, I wouldn’t be so sure since you missed it.”
“What?” I froze, turning away from him, and scanned the area. It was odd that the other students weren’t on the curb like usual. “No, that’s not possible.”
This time I did fish out my phone, wondering how I had lived without it before, to check the time. I stared down at the fat numbers on my screen. How had I missed the bus? I had never missed the bus before, not unless I had been sick or yesterday… I had missed the bus yesterday because of the guys.
Grayson’s arm slung over my shoulders. “I promise to keep my hands to myself. Let me just give you a lift to school.”
“You did this on purpose,” I hissed through clenched teeth, shaking his arm off.
“Who? Me?” He raised his brows mockingly. “I distracted you so much that you didn’t even notice you were running too late to catch your bus just so I could give you a ride to school? I wouldn’
t do that.”
“I can just call one of the guys,” I snapped. “They can give me a ride. You can go.”
“And you’ll go to school late?” he asked. “That won’t look good on you record.”
“Graduation is a few weeks away. It’s not going to matter much longer anyway.”
“Come on, Harlow. Just let me give you a ride.” He sighed. “I wanted to talk to you anyway.”
“Why?” I demanded, clutching my phone in my palm. “Why do you want to talk to me? You barely know me. We’ve gone to school for how long and you’re just now trying to talk to me?”
“You don’t trust me,” he stated.
I shook my head in shock. “Wow,” I deadpanned, “did you figure that out all by yourself?”
He lowered his head and grinned sheepishly. When my expression remained placid, he sighed again. “I’m really not that bad,” he said, gesturing to the car. “It’s just a ride to school. Please?”
I stomped over to his shiny silver mustang, stood next to the passenger side door, waiting, my bag in hand. He chuckled as he pulled out his keys and hit the button on his key fob that unlocked the doors. The interior smelled like leather and pine, likely a mixture of the seats and the scented cardboard tree hanging on his rearview mirror.
I stewed in silence as he crossed around the car. Before he reached the driver’s side door, I shot a quick text to Bellamy to tell him what had happened and then put my phone away. He seemed the least likely to be upset. Even though I hadn’t known the guys that long, it felt right to let someone know. I would just find out what Grayson wanted and then be done with him.
“So, what kind of music do you like?” Once inside the car, Grayson turned the ignition and cranked the AC. I turned with my back against the door, staring.
“What do you want?”
“To give a girl a lift to school. I am a gentleman, after all.” That was bull-crap. I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. “To be fair, no girl I’ve ever offered to help has been as resistant as you.”
“Maybe I’m just immune to your charms.” I smirked. Around him I felt like I acted different too. With Knix, Marv, Bellamy, and Texas, I felt smaller – not difficult around Knix. Maybe smaller was the wrong word. I felt intimidated, maybe? They were so strong, had so much – Marv’s money, Texas’ smarts – I felt almost insignificant or unnecessary, despite their reassurances. Around Grayson, it felt okay to argue back, to snap at him. He took it so well, with a smirk or a grin. Though his eyes sometimes flickered with something much deeper, even heartbreaking, for the most part, he was cheerful and teasing. I questioned his morals though. And that is what had me repeating my question. “What do you want? You said you wanted to talk to me, why?”
He stared ahead. “That guy you were with the other day – the one after the fight. I was wondering why a girl like you would know him and I realized…”
“Realized what?” I pressed when he paused.
I watched his facial expression harden as he navigated the mustang. He was quiet for several moments. “I realized you’re probably more special than you think you are,” he deflected, shooting me a shark-toothed smile. Somehow, even though I knew to others it might have looked dangerous, to me, it looked like a mask.
“If you were trying to impress me, Mr. Gentleman,” I replied, “maybe you should have jumped into the fight.”
“What would be the good in that?” The mustang slowed to a stop sign and turned out of the neighborhood. “For a chance at you possibly liking me? You don’t seem like the kind of girl who changes her mind easily.”
He wasn’t wrong. I pursed my lips. “Why did you show up to my work?”
“To talk to you.”
“Why?”
He tilted his head. “Because I like you.”
“Why?”
Grayson glanced at me when he stopped at a red light. “Are you two? What’s with the twenty questions? How about I ask you some? What are you doing hanging around with those guys? Also, put on your seat belt.”
I twisted, placing my back against the leather seat, and pulled the belt across me. “I don’t know what you mean,” I said. “And you’re the one who picked me up, intending to talk to me. It makes sense for me to ask you questions since you’re not being forthcoming with why the hell you showed up at my house this morning.”
“You really like playing hard to get, huh?” he asked.
“I’m not playing,” I shot back. “I am hard to get.” I shivered, unfolding my arms and rubbed my palms down my legs.
He laughed the same deep, rumbling laugh he had the night before. “Okay, okay.” Grayson slammed on the breaks as a crazy girl in a yellow bug pulled out in front of us and slowed down. The streets began backing up and even in the coolness of the car, I felt trapped with him. “If you don’t want to talk about your boyfriends, who am I to push you?”
“The pushiest person I’ve ever met?” I said. “And they aren’t my boyfriends.”
“So, you’re single?” He twisted his head to wiggle his eyebrows at me suggestively.
I groaned. “Oh my god.” I slapped the back of my head on the headrest of the seat. “You are impossible.”
“I’m trying to be very possible for you.” He swerved into a new lane, bypassing the yellow bug and shooting through a yellow light. “But seriously, are they to you? Friends? They can’t be related to you. They don’t live with you, I know that.” So, that’s why he wanted to know where I lived. I squinted at him out of the corner of my eyes.
“Are you spying on me?”
He smirked. “Just looking out for a girl,” he replied.
“Some people call that stalking.” Was he just looking out for me? “Especially if you don’t know the girl that well.” He slowed and stopped at a stop sign, his chest curving as he looked directly at me.
“I want to.”
Not knowing what to say, I didn’t answer. We sat in silence as he pulled into the school parking lot and stopped the car between an old Toyota and an empty handicap space.
“Thanks for the ride.” I reached for the door handle.
“I’ll give you a lift back home too, if you want?”
“No,” I said. “I won’t be taking the bus home. I have some extracurricular activities.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but I didn’t want him to know that I would be with the guys.
“Wait! Harlow!” He met me around the front of his mustang.
“What?” I held onto my bag by the top handle before slinging it onto my shoulders.
“I don’t want you to start avoiding me.”
“I haven’t been avoiding you,” I said.
He stared hard at me, trying to keep me from looking away, but I did so anyway, focusing on the brick building waiting for our arrival.
“Please?” His tone was pleading. I had to glance back. The deep, damaged look in his eyes had returned, shining out at me. “Just be careful around that guy.”
“I’ll see you in class,” I said.
I felt his eyes on every step I took away from him, and I wondered if I would see him in class or if the guys would pull me out before the day was over.
* * *
I made it to my last and only real class of the day, having spent the majority of it in the library taking my final exams. All I had left now was to turn in my final English paper.
Principal Wiggins had called me into his office later in the day to tell me that, ‘considering the special circumstances’ – circumstances I wasn’t quite sure I understood fully – I wouldn’t have to finish the last week and a half of school. There was no knowing what else the guys might need me for in the coming days.
A text message dinged my phone as I walked out of front office. It was Bellamy telling me that he would be by to pick me up after school. My phone dinged again and I sighed as I read the latest message.
Bellamy:If that guy tries to talk to you again, avoid him.
It wasn’t like avoiding Grayson was an easy task.
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I walked to class, relieved to finally have something more to pay attention to than questions on paper. Tests really did nothing to assess intelligence, just memorization. It was nice that the school would be turning over the teaching method in the next year to project based learning, where the only tests taken were the state and nationally required ones, and everything students learned would have actual real-world applications.
As I predicted, it was absolutely impossible for me to avoid Grayson because as I walked through the doorway, he was already in the seat next to mine.
“Didn’t see you at lunch,” he said as I approached.
“You were looking for me?” I put my bag down and slid into the hard, plastic seat. “I was taking exams in the library.”
“What are you doing after school today?” He leaned closer, those bright, blue eyes of his reminding me of Knix’s, but he wasn’t nearly as bulky or tall. He had the football player’s build, but Knix was still several inches taller than him.
“I’m busy.” Getting dressed up and going to a party to lie about who I was. Not that I was nervous. I dropped my pen as I scrambled to pull out doodling materials. No need to take any real notes since I had already taken the test for this class.
“Well, what about tomorrow after school?” he asked as I leaned over and picked up my pen.
“Um…” How did I tell him I wouldn’t be at school?
The teacher saved me from saying anything though, as she came in and shut the door behind her. She flipped off the lights and turned on the PowerPoint she had ready for the class. We spent the remainder of the period glossing over materials. To save myself from going insane, or rehashing that awful test and stressing over which answers I had gotten wrong, I scribbled across my notebook.
My phone buzzed in my bag and I slid a glance down at it, wondering if I could manage to get to it without alerting the teacher. I decided not to risk it and instead raised my hand to request a bathroom break. She stopped me when I passed her with my bag packed, but I had the perfect excuse. Ignoring Grayson’s hard stare, I whispered an excuse about periods and not wanting to pull my tampons out in front of everyone. She nodded and gestured for me to hurry along.