Roam

by C. H. Armstrong

  Heat rushes to my face. “I’m not a snob!”

  Zach pauses until my eyes meet his. Then, with three words, he issues a dare: “Then prove it.”

  I square my shoulders, lifting my chin for extra confidence. “Fine.”

  Zach grins and opens the passenger door. I sigh, then throw my backpack on the floorboard and climb into the seat. He waits until I’m buckled, then closes my door and crosses around to the driver’s side.

  “Where to?” he asks.

  “SISTER!”

  Amber waves frantically as her blond head bobs up and down from behind a taller boy. Even from a distance, her giant blue eyes shine, drawing the attention of those nearby. I smile back at her.

  “Here she comes.” I point her out to Zach.

  He lifts an eyebrow. “‘Sister?’”

  I shrug. “It was her first word. It’s the only thing she’s ever called me.”

  “Cute.” He grins. “She’s adorable—she looks like Tweety Bird.”

  I roll my eyes. Gosh, I’ve never heard that before!

  “Hey, Sister!” Amber throws her arms around me and squeezes. Stepping back, she eyes Zach then offers him her biggest smile. “Are you Sister’s boyfriend?”

  Zach chokes on a laugh.

  “No, Amber.” My face flames hot. “This is my friend Zach. Zach, this is Amber.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he says.

  Amber’s right hand juts out, her arm straight and rigid. “Nice to meet you, too!”

  He smiles and meets her hand with his own. When their handshake is complete, she stands on tiptoe and taps my shoulder. I bend down to hear her secret, thankful she’s finally showing some discretion, but in a too-loud voice she asks, “If he’s not your boyfriend, can he be mine?”

  Zach lets out a bark of laughter, and I pray the ground will swallow me whole. I knew this was a bad idea!

  I shake my head and stand to my full height. “I thought you had a boyfriend.”

  Amber shrugs. “That was yesterday. He’s dating Alexiya now.”

  “Dating?” Zach interrupts. “How exactly do you ‘date’ in first grade?” Amber gives him her full attention and I groan. In seconds, she’ll have him wrapped around her little finger like she has the rest of us. “Well, you know—he sits by me at lunch, and plays with me at recess. When we play tag, he can’t chase anyone but me.”

  “Okay,” Zach says. “So why is he ‘dating’ Alexiya now instead of you?”

  “He cheated on me.” Amber shrugs again. “He pushed Alexiya on the swings today, so I broke up with him.”

  Zach chokes on another laugh, then bends over at the waist, his body shaking with mirth.

  “And so the string tightens,” I whisper under my breath. Hearing me, Amber glows as she realizes she’s reeled in another admirer.

  Bringing his laughter under control, Zach straightens and wipes a tear from his cheek. “You’ve got this dating thing figured out, Tweety Bird.”

  “Tweety Bird?” Amber’s eyebrows draw together. “I’m not a Tweety Bird.”

  “You look like one,” he says.

  “What’s a Tweety Bird look like?”

  “Haven’t you ever seen that cartoon with Sylvester, the big black cat?” Zach makes claws with his hands and pretends he’s creeping up on someone. “He sneaks around the cage of this little yellow bird with giant blue eyes like yours, and the bird says ‘I tot I taw a putty tat.’”

  Amber rolls her eyes. “That’s weird.”

  “It’s not weird.” He fakes offense. “The bird’s saying, ‘I thought I saw a pussy cat.’”

  Amber studies him, her brows scrunched up in thought. “Why doesn’t he just say that? Why call it a putty tat?”

  Zach runs his hands through his hair in mock frustration. “Never mind. Some day I’ll rent the old movies and we can watch them together—that is, if you can give your sister some pointers on this dating thing. She’s struggling.”

  “Shut up,” I say, kidding.

  Amber’s eyes widen, the nickname forgotten. “You don’t know how it works, Sister? I can teach you.”

  The ground isn’t large enough to swallow me. I need a black hole or, better yet, Harry Potter’s Invisibility Cloak. Zach’s laughter is back, but he takes Amber’s bag and swings it over his shoulder. Somehow seeing him wear a Disney Princess backpack evens the score and I feel a little better. He reaches for my hand then takes Amber’s on his other side.

  “C’mon, Amber,” he says. “Let’s get your sister to the The Daily before she strangles one of us.”

  ZACH DRIVES AROUND the building twice, with no luck finding street-side parking.

  “Why don’t I drop you off here, and Amber and I will circle the block a few times until you’re done?” he offers.

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Nope—so long as Amber doesn’t mind.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind,” she says. “It’ll give me a chance to get all my questions answered.”

  Oh geez! I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and first finger. “Okay. But, Amber, I’m warning you: don’t say or do anything to embarrass me. Understand?”

  “I won’t.” She takes her first finger and criss-crosses it over her heart. “I’ll just ask what he’s looking for in a girlfriend, and what his ’tentions are with my sister.”

  “No, you will not!”

  “Go—we’ll be fine.” Zach laughs.

  “You behave, Am! Don’t ask him anything that’ll embarrass me when I find out!”

  “Who, me?” Her voice drips innocence.

  I grumble under my breath, but leave them in the car and enter the newspaper office. A bell on the door chimes and a young woman with red cat-eye glasses greets me from behind a desk.

  “Can I help you?” she asks.

  “I’d like to fill out an application, please.”

  “Oh, sure. Let me get one for you. If you have a few minutes, I think Bryan will want to talk to you. We’ve had a couple of carrier positions open up, and he’s trying to get them filled.”

  “Thanks.”

  The woman steps away, then returns moments later with an application and pen attached to a clipboard. “If you’ll complete this form, Bryan will be out soon.”

  I take the form, fill out my full name, and then stop cold. The form requires an address, and I can’t say, Green van with the rusted driver-side fender in the Walmart parking lot. My brain floods with a litany of possible lies. At this rate, I’ll have a whole new identity before the day is out.

  I clear my throat. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m not sure what to write for the address. We just moved here and we’re staying at a hotel while my parents find a house. They’re looking to buy, but haven’t found anything yet.”

  The woman taps her manicured finger on her top lip. “Just write, ‘ask me,’ and you can explain it to Bryan. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  When I complete the application, the woman takes it and disappears. When she returns, an attractive older man in a wrinkled gray suit follows her. His short salt-and-pepper hair is balding on top, and his gray beard is neatly trimmed.

  “Abby?” he asks.

  “Yes?”

  “Bryan Wiewel.” He extends his hand to shake mine. “I’m the managing editor. I understand you’re looking for a job?”

  I nod. “Yes, sir.”

  “We’re currently filling positions for carriers. It’s six days per week, Monday through Saturday. Does that appeal to you?”

  “Yes. Would you have an open route somewhere between here and Rochester South?”

  Bryan smiles and waves an arm toward an open door. “I think we can work something out. Let’s talk in my office.”

  I follow Bryan and take a seat in one of two chairs provided. His desk is cluttered with empty coffee cups and misaligned stacks of newspapers. He walks behind his desk, rearranges several items, then holds his hand across his tie as he takes a seat.

  “Maris is the circulation
manager and usually does these interviews, but she’s out today and we need to get these positions settled,” he says, turning his attention to my application.

  The room is uncomfortably silent while Bryan scans my personal information. After a moment, he sets my application on his desk and folds his hands.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he prompts. “Madigan says you’ve just moved here. Where are you from?”

  “Omaha. I just transferred to Rochester South.”

  “So what brings you to Rochester?”

  I’m stumped by the question, but decide to stick as closely to the truth as I can. “My stepdad was looking for better job opportunities.”

  “I see. And where does he work?”

  “I—I don’t remember. He just started this week and I don’t remember the company name.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.

  Bryan waves his hand in dismissal. “That’s okay. So what brings you here today? Why here instead of, say, retail or fast food?”

  “Well—” I clear my throat. “I—I have a younger sister I babysit after school. I thought it might be something we could do together until our parents get home.”

  “I see. How old is your sister?”

  “Six.”

  Bryan taps his forefinger against his upper lip. “It’s a lot colder here than Omaha. Are you prepared for the harsh winters?”

  I nod. “I think so. We’ll dress warmly.”

  Bryan squints and stares off at some point behind my right shoulder. After a tense several moments, he turns his attention to me and offers a smile. “Okay, Abby. Let’s give you a try. You mentioned a route between here and Rochester South; we have two available, so you can take your pick. How does that sound?”

  “That sounds great! Thank you!”

  Bryan chuckles. “It’s nice to see such enthusiasm. Come back tomorrow after school and see Maris. She’ll let you pick a route, then walk you through the process and rules.”

  “Thank you!” I grin.

  “It’s my pleasure. We’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  I nearly skip out the front door and find Zach parked right in front of the building.

  “I got the job!” I squeal before the car door is fully open.

  “Way to go!” he replies.

  “This calls for a celebration!” Amber’s head pops through the middle of us from the back seat. “I think Zach should take me to Dairy Queen!”

  Zach laughs. “Sorry, Amber! Dairy Queen closed last week for the winter.”

  “Aw, man!” Her shoulders slump, then her face brightens. “I’ll settle for Flapdoodles?”

  “No, you won’t,” I interrupt. “We’ve got to get to the library.”

  “To the library, then.” Zach puts the Audi in gear and pulls out of the parallel parking space.

  “Yay! Are you going with us?” Amber asks.

  Zach glances at me, smiling. “Sure, why not?”

  “You really don’t have to—” I begin.

  “I told you,” he interrupts. “I want to hang out with you, and I haven’t had a chance yet.”

  My heart beats frantically and, in spite of myself, I’m giddy. “If you’re sure. I’m not doing anything but studying…”

  “I can study, too.”

  “Okay…but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  ZACH AND I sit side by side in matching carrels inside the library’s teen room, each of us working on homework. It’s a comfortable silence with both of us engrossed in different assignments, and it feels good knowing he’s right beside me. My heart flutters and I peek in his direction only to find him watching me.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Just watching you.”

  “I can see that. Why?”

  He grins. “Because I can.”

  My heart beats so loudly I know he must hear it. I roll my eyes. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

  “Nope.” He continues staring at me.

  I pick up his copy of To Kill a Mockingbird and hand it to him. “Here, read this.”

  “Are you going to the football game tomorrow night?” he asks instead.

  “That’s random.” I laugh. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “You should. I’m playing.”

  “You play football?”

  “No.” His expression is stoic. “I just thought I’d play this one time to impress you.”

  I stare at him, not sure if he’s kidding.

  “Yes, I play!” He laughs. “Come to the game tomorrow night.”

  “I don’t have a pass and I’m broke right now.” And there’s no way I can get the money to get in.

  “That’s no problem. Josh and the girls always go, so go with them. They’ll go in first, then you meet them halfway down the fence and they’ll give you one of their passes. The gate checkers never look at the photo IDs, only the backs to see you have the pass.”

  I shake my head. “That’s stealing.”

  “Only if you get caught. And besides, everybody does it and they know we do it. C’mon—I want you to see me play.”

  “Maybe.” Or not.

  “Give me your phone number and I’ll call you.” Zach pulls out an iPhone and offers it to me.

  My brain freezes. My cell phone was one of the first things we cut to save money. “I don’t have one. I—dropped it in the sink and we haven’t replaced it yet.”

  “Oh man! I hate that. Did you put it in rice?” he asks.

  “Rice?”

  “Yeah. They say if you put it in rice, it dries the phone out and sometimes you can still use it.”

  “Oh.” I shake my head. “I didn’t think about it, and it’s too late now.”

  “Bummer. Next time, though, remember it. It’s a good tip. What about a landline?”

  “It…we…it hasn’t been hooked up yet,” I lie.

  Zach pockets his cell phone and offers a sympathetic smile. “That has to suck. I was without my mobile for three days this summer and it felt like I’d been shut off from the rest of the world.”

  “Yeah…pretty much.”

  “About the game,” Zach presses. “Think about it and you can tell me tomorrow at school. I’d really like you to come.”

  Before I can answer, Nick walks through the library’s front doors and heads in our direction. The moment he realizes Zach’s with me, his eyes narrow and his smile disappears.

  “We gotta go,” I tell Zach.

  Nick steps into the room and offers Zach a tentative smile before turning to me. “Where’s Amber?”

  “In the craft room again.”

  “Okay. Go get her and we’ll meet you in the van. Your mom’s had a long day, so we need to get going.”

  “Okay,” I say, and wait for Nick to leave.

  But he doesn’t leave. In fact, he doesn’t move a single inch. He just stands there, his gaze moving between Zach and me. I widen my eyes in an expression I hope reads, “Okay, Nick…you can go now,” but he doesn’t move. Finally, after what seems the longest time, he blows out a breath and turns back toward the main doors.

  “Now, please, Abby,” he says over his shoulder. “We need to get going.”

  When Nick disappears through the exit doors, Zach turns and asks, “Your stepdad?”

  “Nope.” I shake my head. “Just some guy who comes here often. He likes to tell me it’s time to go, and that he’s waiting on me.”

  “Smartass,” Zach says.

  “Um—hello? Pot? This is the kettle!”

  “Fair enough.” He grins.

  We sit there another moment, neither of us speaking but also not wanting to leave.

  “I’ve gotta go,” I finally say. “It’s been fun. Thanks for the ride, and for staying with Amber. She likes you already.”

  “She’s funny—almost makes me wish I had a little brother or sister.”

  “You can have her,” I offer.

  Zach’s eyes widen. “I said ‘almost.’ I’m not a glutt
on for punishment.”

  I snort out a laugh. Being with Zach is so easy. Maybe I can make this work. Maybe, if I’m careful, he’ll never know our secrets. Or, if he finds out, maybe he won’t know until after our lives are moving in a good direction. By then, maybe it won’t matter anymore. Maybe.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “WHO WAS THAT KID AT THE LIBRARY?” NICK ASKS, ALMOST THE SECOND I STEP IN THE VAN.

  “Just a guy from school.”

  “His name’s Zach, and he’s Sister’s new boyfriend!” Amber supplies.

  I shoot Amber a stink eye, but it’s too late. Mom turns around and faces me from the front seat. “A boyfriend, Abby? Is that a good idea?”

  I narrow my eyes and tilt my head slightly in a gesture I hope reads, ”Seriously, Mom?” But I say nothing and, after a moment, I roll my eyes and turn my head to stare out the window.

  Mom’s gaze bores into the back of my head. “Is he a boyfriend, Abby? Or is it moving in that direction?”

  “I’m not having this conversation.” My inflection is bored but inside I’m seething. “I’m almost eighteen and you’ve lost the right to counsel me on good relationship decisions.”

  “Abby.” Nick’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror.

  I clench my teeth and throw him a look that says, “What? Am I wrong?” He glances away only long enough to check the road, then returns his eyes to mine—a silent warning.

  Mom sighs. “You’re right, Abby. You’re almost eighteen. But we’re in an unusual situation, and I’m not sure the kids here would understand. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “You weren’t worried about that before,” I mumble.

  If Mom hears me, she lets it go.

  Nick clears his throat and our eyes meet again in the rearview mirror. “Your mom has a point, Abs. I’m sure he’s a nice kid, but think about what she’s saying. Neither of us wants to see you hurt.”

  “You, too, Nick?” My voice wobbles. “For the first time in almost a year, a guy pays attention to me because of me! Not because of Mom, or because he’s hedging his bets I’m a slut like…other people. And you want me to shut it down? Aren’t I allowed to have any happiness?”

  I don’t know why I’m arguing. They’re not saying anything I haven’t told myself a hundred times, or that I didn’t just tell Zach this afternoon in different words. But hearing them say it makes my anger rise and seep out through every pore. I know Zach’s a bad idea, but maybe—just maybe—I can make it work. And if I can’t, well…maybe the time we spend together and the “normalness” he makes me feel will be worth the pain when he finds out and drops me cold.