Chris seemed to take it all in stride, though. “Good. Busy. You?” He looked amused, so Scott took that as a good sign.
Scott laughed. “Sorry. I’m terrible at this.” He motioned between the two of them.
The barista interrupted them with an indifferent “Here you go” as she plunked Chris’s drink on the counter at that moment, followed immediately by his.
“You’re doing fine.” Chris gestured toward a small table in the corner. “I have a few minutes to sit if you do.”
Scott nodded and followed him over to the table. It was small enough that their knees would bump if they weren’t careful.
He took a deep breath and a sip of his drink. “So, I have to confess something.”
Chris leaned back in his chair. “Oh, yeah?”
“I, uh…” Scott tapped his fingers nervously on the tabletop. “I kind of already know who you are.” Chris froze, eyes uncertain, and Scott hurried to add, “Oh, god. I know that sounded creepy. I saw you at that charity thing last night, and I pointed you out to my friend, Molly. She remembered you from school.”
Chris’s face fell. “Oh. So you know what I do.”
Scott grasped for something to say that didn’t sound completely condescending, but nothing came to mind. So he changed the subject. “She said you were sweet.”
Chris rallied, the smile slowly coming back, if not quite as bright as before. “What was her last name again?”
“Wilkerson. Molly Wilkerson.”
Chris’s face brightened a little more. “Oh my god, I haven’t thought about her in forever. Not since—” That look again. Smiling but a little sad.
Scott wondered if there was more to the whole story than he already knew. “She’d like to see you again, if you’d like her number.” He stomped down on the urge to offer his own number as well.
“Really? That’d be great.” Chris picked up his phone and unlocked it, then looked at Scott expectantly. “What’s the number?”
Scott rattled it off and did not feel disappointed, not at all, when Chris didn’t ask for his number.
Chris set down his phone and picked up his coffee. “Since we’re confessing, I have one for you.”
Scott had just taken a drink and sputtered a bit. “What?”
Chris laughed and handed him a napkin. “I knew who you were, too. The very first night.”
“You did?” Scott’s stomach swooped but not in a fun, exciting way. “Oh. That’s—”
Chris shrugged. “It’s hard to grow up anywhere around here and not know who you are.” Chris’s phone pinged, and he glanced at the screen, his expression changing instantaneously. He squeezed his eyes tight for a quick moment and then turned the phone over on the table. He took a deep breath and pasted the smile back on his face. “What was I saying?”
Scott blinked at him. Something wasn’t quite right.
Chris’s phone pinged again and then again. Chris finally picked it up and flipped it angrily to vibrate.
Scott frowned. “Do you need to get that?”
Chris shook his head. “It’s just my stepmother.” This time, the phone vibrated across the table with an incoming call. Chris reached over and hit the button to reject it and smiled in a way that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Are you okay?” Scott winced at the bluntness of the question.
“Sure. Fine.” He was lying. His phone buzzed again. “You gave Mary your number.”
“I’m sorry?” The subject change almost gave Scott whiplash.
“Mary, the girl that who works with me, you gave her your number.”
Scott suddenly realized what he was talking about. “I gave it to her for you.”
Chris gave Scott an appraising look. “Is your dad really an attorney?” Chris glanced at his phone again. “I hear he is, a good one.”
“Yes?” Scott had no idea where Chris was going with this line of thought. “But what—”
The phone buzzed again. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll text you sometime, okay?” He stood, hitching his backpack onto his shoulder. “Sorry, Scott.” He left before Scott could say another word.
It took a few precious moments for Scott to pull himself together to follow, but by the time he’d reached the door, Chris was nowhere to be seen.
“What the hell?”
SCOTT WENT BACK to the same Starbucks at around the same time every day for two weeks before he saw Chris again. Chris was dressed for another catering job, he noticed. Black pants and a black button-up shirt, no tie as of yet. Scott didn’t think he’d seen him come in.
He looked tired, and the slump of his shoulders screamed defeat. Scott briefly wondered if it had anything to do with the buzzing phone from last time. He took a breath and stepped up to the counter, beside Chris.
“Here, let me.” Scott handed a bill to the cashier before Chris could argue. “I wanted to do this last time.”
Chris jerked in surprise, apparently lost in his own thoughts. He seemed to be struggling for something to say before he sighed and moved over to wait for his drink at the other counter.
“You didn’t have to do that. I can pay for my own.”
“Hey.” Scott didn’t hesitate this time, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. “I wanted to. I want to. Okay?”
Chris took a shaky breath. “Okay. Thanks.” He gave Scott a tight smile. “Sorry. I’m not good company right now.”
“Rough day?” Scott nodded toward the table where they’d sat last time, and he followed.
Chris let out a bitter laugh as he dropped his backpack on the floor next to his chair. “Rough day, rough week. It’s all rough.” He pulled his phone out of his bag and set it on the table. The phone was battered. Scott wondered how it even worked with a cracked screen, and then he wondered why he hadn’t noticed that last time.
“You want to talk about it?” Scott scooted his chair closer to Chris. “I’ve been told that I’m a good listener.” Chris stared down at his drink, and Scott pressed his knee against his. “Seriously.”
Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and looked at Scott, biting his lip uncertainly. “I don’t know—” He stopped, and his phone pinged. He picked up the phone, and the look on his face made Scott afraid that he was going to fling it at the wall. He put his hand on Chris’s to stop him.
“You don’t want to do that.” Scott gently took the phone and flipped the tiny switch on the side to put it on vibrate before setting it facedown on the table. “Chris, what’s going on?”
Chris clenched his hands on the table and let out an ugly laugh. “You want to know what’s going on?”
Scott took Chris’s closest hand and covered it with his own, waiting.
“Fine. My stepmother hates me. My dad trusted her, you know? But now—” He looked down at their joined hands as if seeing them for the first time. “Now she treats me like her maid or something. Someone to pick up her dry cleaning and buy the stupid expensive tea that she likes or—” His voice broke and Scott moved even closer. Chris leaned into him. “She wants my trust fund.”
“What?” Scott shook his head. “You don’t have to answer this, but didn’t your dad have a will or something?”
“Yeah. Not sure what it said, though. She didn’t even let me go to the reading of it.” His phone buzzed against the table, and this time Scott put it in his pocket. “That’s her, you know. She doesn’t approve of all this.” He gestured up and down his body, indicating his outfit.
“Why not?” Scott loosened his grip on Chris’s hand in case he wanted to let go. He didn’t. “You have to work, right?”
“She doesn’t like it because she’s afraid that someone we know will recognize me.” Chris sounded resigned, like this was an old argument. “I guess she was right.”
“I’m sorry.” Scott pulled his hand back. “I didn’t mean to make things harder for you.”
Chris clasped his hands in front of him so tightly that his knuckles were white. “If it wasn’t you, i
t’d be someone else.” He looked up at Scott, and the change was startling: his eyes had gone ice-cold. “It’s happened before, you know, someone looking for a charity case. Swooping in to save the day.”
Scott didn’t know what to say to that. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“It’s not your fault. Not you specifically.” Chris sounded a little chagrined now. “She likes to talk sometimes, especially if she’s had a drink or two. She doesn’t like me very much.” He finally looked Scott in the eye. “She doesn’t like me very much,” he repeated, “and she won’t give me the money to pay my student loans like she promised when I started school. So I do the catering thing, and work at a little coffee shop a few blocks away.” He glanced up at Scott again. “I never finished school, so I’m not qualified for anything else.” Chris stared back down at the table. “She paid for her daughters to go instead. Said she didn’t want to waste the money on me.”
“God.” Scott was at a loss for words.
“Yeah.” Chris finally relaxed his hands, and Scott resisted the urge to touch him again. “I’m trying to save for a lawyer, but it’s a lot of money, you know?”
He didn’t know. He’d never had to worry about it, and it made him feel a little ashamed. “A lawyer? That’s why you were asking about my dad.”
Chris stood and picked up his backpack. “It was, but I know he’s way too expensive.” He drank the last of his coffee and turned to leave, holding the empty cup in his hand. “I’ve got to go. Thanks for listening.”
“Wait.” Scott scrambled up, then stopped to steady his chair when it almost turned over. Chris wasn’t stopping. “Chris, wait.”
Chris heaved a sigh, hitching his backpack up higher on his shoulder. He looked utterly defeated and a little embarrassed. “What?”
“Call me.” Scott felt his cheeks heat and knew that the tips of his ears were turning red. “Text me. Whatever. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
“You seem like a good guy. But you don’t really want to get involved in all this.”
“But what if I do? I can help. I can talk to my dad and—”
“No.” Chris stepped closer, looking Scott right in the eye. “I don’t need that kind of help. I can handle this one my own. Like I said, I’m not a charity case.”
“Of course not. I would never…” Scott’s voice faltered. “You have my number. If you change your mind?” He rushed to add, “Or just need a friend?”
“Goodbye, Scott.” Chris left before Scott could say anything else.
Scott sat down heavily at the table that they’d shared. It took several minutes for him to realize that the phone buzzing in his pocket wasn’t his own. Shit. He took the phone out and turned it over. It definitely wasn’t in great shape, but the screen lit up when he hit the home button. He took a quick look at the contacts, but then started to feel weird about prying, so he stuffed it back in his pocket and took his own phone out to text Molly.
Me: So I ran into Chris again
Mols: !!!!!!!
Mols: What happened???
Me: I’m not sure tbh. He’s having a rough time.
Mols: :(
Me: It was weird.
Mols: Want to get dinner and talk it out?
Me: YES
Mols: See you at yours.
Scott breathed a sigh of relief. Molly was way better at this stuff than he was because she kept up with what was happening with everyone who was anyone. He was fairly certain there was a spreadsheet somewhere detailing who wore what, when, and where.
He headed out of the Starbucks, looking up and down the sidewalk just in case Chris had turned back when he realized he’d left his phone. There wasn’t a sign of him anywhere. He’d have to find a way to get the phone to him, at least. Maybe Molly would have some idea about what to do.
MOLLY WAS WAITING for him in the lobby. She took one look at Scott’s worried face and said, “Don’t say a thing. Let’s go to Joe’s.” Joe’s was an honest-to-god diner, the only one in the area that hadn’t been put out of business by trendy tapas bars and celebrity-owned restaurants. It was their comfort-food restaurant of choice and had been since they were old enough to be allowed out on their own.
They were seated at a table in the corner where they could have some relative privacy before Molly started asking questions. “Where did you see him?”
Scott had barely opened his mouth to answer when the server stopped by to take their order. It was always the same: a cheeseburger and fries for both of them, with a chocolate shake for him and a vanilla shake for her that they’d trade off halfway through.
“It was the same place as before, the Starbucks on our block.” Scott pulled the busted phone out of his pocket. “He left his phone. It kept going off, and whoever was texting him made him pretty upset, so I took it away from him before he could smash it.” He turned the phone round and round in his hands. “I mean, it was weird. And the whole thing was just kind of sad.”
“Sad?” Molly took the phone and thumbed the home button, bringing the screen to life. She tapped on the screen a few times before glancing back up at Scott. “How do you mean?”
“He’s had a pretty rough life, I guess.” Scott remembered the bitterness in his voice when he’d talked about other people who had offered what he considered “charity” in the past. “It sounded like his stepmom has really taken advantage of him. It’s why he’s working. Because she took everything after his dad died.”
“Oh god.” Molly sounded just as horrified as he had. She looked down at the phone and sighed. “He only has a few contacts in here. Nadine, Rebecca, and Lindsey.” She scrolled through his calls. “Wasn’t his stepmom’s name Nadine?”
“Yeah.” He remembered that from the article. “No one else?”
“Mine’s in here, but he never called or anything.” She scrolled a little bit further. “Yours is in here, too.” Her brow furrowed. “And your dad’s.”
“I used one of his cards to write my number on the other night. He said something about needing a lawyer.” Scott bit his lip. “Anything else that could help us track him down?”
“Here. It looks like he works at a coffee shop, but it doesn’t say which one. Should be one close by, so it shouldn’t be that hard to track down.” She put the phone down when the server arrived with their food.
“He said his stepmom would say stuff about him—” Scott stopped and looked at his plate, pushing the fries around. “—to other people.”
“Not good?”
“Not good. Can you keep an ear out?”
“Sure.”
Scott picked up his burger and put it back down. “I don’t really care what it is. I just want to help.”
“In that case—” Molly grabbed a fry and pointed it at him. “—you need to decide what you want to do.”
“Me?” Scott had just taken a bite of burger and his answer was garbled.
“Yeah, you.” Molly thoughtfully munched on a fry. “He does need your help.”
“He said he doesn’t want any.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Molly shrugged and dragged another fry through her ketchup. She always ate her fries first. “He may not know how to ask for help or how to accept it.”
“Maybe.” Scott went over the exchange in his mind again. “I don’t know.”
“Hey.” Molly kicked him under the table. “You won’t know until you try, right?”
“Right. Oh, and ow. Cut it out.” Scott threw one of his own fries at her. He made a face as she snatched it off the table, adding it to her own plate. “Gross.”
“Five second rule.” She smiled at the face he made, and he knew she was trying to lighten the mood. “So you kind of like him, huh?”
“Shut up.” Scott looked down at his plate. “Yeah.”
Molly grinned at him. “Then you should definitely try to find him. He needs his phone back, right?” Her face grew a little more serious. “He was always a sweet kid. I hate hearing that he’s having trouble.” She wiped
the grease off her fingers with her napkin. “Here. Go look for him tomorrow.” She handed the phone back to him. “And tell him to text me, okay?”
“Okay, fine. I’ll go in the morning and let you know, all right?” Scott picked up his burger again. “Can we eat our very-bad-for-us food now?”
“Hey, if you don’t want it…” She reached for his plate, and he smacked her hand away. She winked at him. “Seriously. Just talk to him. Okay?”
“Fine. Finish your burger.”
She beamed at him and took a bite.
THE NEXT DAY, Scott visited five different non-Starbucks coffee shops before he was able to track Chris down. Who knew there were so many close by? He caught sight of Chris through the large front window, but something made him hesitate before walking through the door. There weren’t many customers inside. No one except Mrs. Smith-Masterson and her daughters. Scott drew back quickly so they couldn’t see him. Mrs. Smith-Masterson was talking, quite animatedly, to Chris while his stepsisters watched the exchange intently, not even trying to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. Chris didn’t look happy at all. It was that look of sadness and resignation from the previous day all over again.
Scott wanted to go in there and stop her, but he knew that was a bad idea. He didn’t want to cause any more trouble. He saw Chris nod before turning away from his stepmother, who gestured for his stepsisters to follow her. They shot nasty glares at Chris’s back as they stalked out of the store. Their expressions changed abruptly when they saw him watching them, suddenly friendly and pleasant, and one of them turned around to give him a smile, obviously recognizing him. He scowled back, and after a brief flash of shock, her face turned into an ugly sneer. They left, and he was glad to see the back of them but gave Chris a few seconds to compose himself before he walked in the door, bell jingling.
“Hi, can I help—” Chris’s voice fell away, and he just stared at Scott for a few seconds. “Um. Hey.”
“Hey.” Scott could tell that he was still upset by whatever his stepmother had just said to him. He almost asked if he was okay but, instead, settled for pulling Chris’s phone out of his pocket and turning it over in his hands. “You forgot this yesterday.”
Once Upon the Rainbow, Volume Two Page 3