Red at Night

by Katie McGarry

  “No.”

  She reassesses it. “Then I don’t get it.”

  Neither do I. “What do you think of the house?”

  “What do you want me to think of your house?”

  “I asked first.”

  “You did.”

  I mentally throw my hands in the air. I can never find a way ahead of her. “Want to see my bedroom?”

  She tosses me an evil smile that turns me on. “Are you going to throw me on the bed and have your wicked way with me?”

  I lower my head and hold my breath to keep in a moan. “No.”

  “Then sure.”

  I gesture for her to walk up the stairs. She goes and I’ll admit to watching her butt move from side to side. “What if I said yes?”

  “What about it? Right or left?”

  “Right. If I said yes, would you have come up?”

  She takes a right at the top of the stairs and glances at me from under hooded eyelashes. “Yes.”

  Screw me. “Really?”

  She laughs and I have no idea what that means. Stella peeks into my bedroom and the left side of her mouth tilts up. “Nice.”

  My eyebrows pull together, knowing my room isn’t anything special. Mom decorated it. I sleep in it. I never get bent out of shape over the contents. I cock a hip against the doorframe across from Stella. “What’s nice?”

  “It has a bed.”

  All the air is sucked out of my chest. “Stella...”

  She steps into me and rests her hand on my chest. I swear to God the heat of her fingers burns past my clothes to my skin.

  “Where is your family?”

  “Gone. To Lexington.”

  Stella bites her bottom lip. “So...we have until midnight?”

  I’ll give her a hell of a lot longer if we can figure this out. “Yeah.”

  She reaches up to touch her barrette and I capture her hand, knotting her fingers with mine. I don’t want her nervous, not with me. “I didn’t bring you here to make out. You showed me a part of you; I wanted you to see where I come from.”

  Stella moves her thumb on my chest and my blood becomes very, very warm.

  “We should talk—about what happens after today,” she says.

  I nod and even though I should place eight feet of distance between us and possibly a wall, I slip a hand onto the curve of her waist and nearly lose my mind when Stella’s breath catches in her throat.

  “We’ll talk...soon.” Think with your brain, moron. “We should talk now.”

  Stella also nods, but then starts to shake her head no while licking those beautiful lips. They look soft and I long to find out if they are.

  “Jonah,” she whispers and those gray eyes plead with me.

  My hand eases from her hip to her face, my thumb brushing against her cheek. Stella leans into me—all soft curves, all feminine, a heat that sparks and smolders at the same time. Her head tilts up as I lower mine and I know the moment our lips touch, any hope I had of returning to my old life will no longer exist.

  Stella

  A small voice yells at me from the back of my mind: this is more, this is more, this is MORE!

  But as Jonah’s lips hover within a whisper of mine and his breath heats my face, I don’t care that I’m setting my heart up for a crushing blow. I fist the material of his shirt and it’s not to keep him close, it’s to prevent me from running.

  For a few seconds, I want to know what it’s like not to settle or dream, but to live. To be the girl who’s cared for, to be the girl who’s cherished, to be the girl who’s kissed.

  Jonah’s arm tightens around my waist and his fingers tunnel into my hair. His touch causes a hum along my body, a vibration in my blood, and as I push off my toes to cross that small distance left between us, my lower lip trembles with anticipation.

  I hold my breath the moment our lips connect. The soft pressure is like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. His fingers move in my hair and the gentle massage creates a warming sensation throughout my muscles. Like stepping into a hot bath.

  Jonah moves his lips and I follow along, drinking in his heat, his goodness. I inhale and I’m overwhelmed with the scent of spices, the scent of Jonah, and it causes me to desire more.

  I part my lips and a soft moan leaves my throat when Jonah slides his tongue to meet mine. Liquid warmth explodes in my body and I become lost. I release my grip and my fingers trail along his chest, feeling the plane of his muscles through his shirt.

  Jonah’s hand runs up and down my spine, pressing me closer, and his kiss grows hungrier. That same hunger is mirrored inside me. With his hands on my hips, Jonah repositions his legs. With one foot between the two of mine, he gently urges me back. I slip my hands around his neck and let him lead me in this dance.

  My fingers ease up to his head and I love the tickle of the short strands of his hair against my palms. I tilt my head and Jonah accepts the invitation to increase the intensity of the kiss. He guides it to a level where it possesses a life of its own. Lips taking in the other’s, tongues searching for more. Bodies begging to be closer.

  The back of my legs hit the bed and my eyes snap open. With chests moving rapidly, pulses pounding at every pressure point, Jonah and I look at each other. He tucks a stray hair behind my ear and kisses my lips with the slightest, sweetest pressure.

  “Now that we’ve settled that...” His voice comes out deep, husky, and I like it. So much that my toes curl lovingly with the sound.

  “Settled what?”

  Jonah slowly brushes his hand up my back and the caress causes warmth to spread in my belly. “How we feel.”

  “What about it?” I ask, not recognizing the soft sound of my voice.

  “Now we need to figure out where we go from here.”

  Jonah

  We lie tangled together on my bed. Stella’s head rests on my chest and both of my arms keep her tucked close. The room is dark even though the window shade is wide open. After our kiss, we watched the sunset in silence.

  “The sky was red,” she whispers.

  “Yeah.” It was possibly the most beautiful sunset I’ve seen.

  “That means there shouldn’t be a storm.” But there’s doubt in her voice and somehow I don’t feel like she’s referring to the weather. “I’ll need to go soon.”

  I know. “Do you have a curfew?”

  “Not really, but Joss gets upset if I’m not back before she leaves for work and I don’t like her to worry.”

  I smooth Stella’s hair back and steel myself for the inevitable—the question of whether or not we will be an actual couple. The best way to start is to gauge how much Stella trusts me. “Who is Joss to you?”

  Her body jerks and I close my eyes, hating that I’m ruining the perfect moment we just shared. She pushes back against my arms, trying to move, and initially I resist, but then I loosen my hold. This conversation has to happen.

  Stella sits up and the moonlight beginning to filter into the room reflects in her eyes. “She was the last girl my dad dated while he was in town.”

  I scratch the back of my neck, unsure what to say or ask next. There are too many questions and none of them will have easy answers. “You live with your dad’s girlfriend?”

  “I’m leaning in the direction of ex-girlfriend, but Joss isn’t always predictable.” Stella shifts so that she’s cross-legged next to me and she fusses over a thumbnail.

  “Where’s your dad?”

  She shrugs. “He leaves. Comes back. Then leaves again. He sticks around long enough to con someone into taking care of me and when their patience runs out, he returns and finds someone else.”

  I draw both hands over my face. What the hell has her life been like? What the hell is wrong with him? Pieces begin to fall
into place. “Is Lydia your mom?”

  “No.” She meets my eyes then returns her attention to her nails. “Dad won’t discuss my mom, but one of the girlfriends said he told her that she left after I was born.”

  It’s like I’ve been sucked into a black hole and I’m flailing as I try to grab on to something solid. “Then why the cemetery, Stella?”

  She wrinkles her forehead. “Will you take me back to Joss’s after I answer?”

  Silence. I don’t like the finality in that question. “We’re together now. Just so you know. When we walk into school tomorrow, I’m telling Cooper that he can kiss my ass and our friendship good-bye if he ever says another word against you.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she says quietly.

  “I don’t. But I am.” I am making a decision to move forward. My heart falters. Since the accident, I had been trying to find a way back to the life I had before, but ended up in purgatory. Not anymore though. “I know who I want to be and I want you by my side as I become that person.”

  That interests her enough that she peeks at me through the shield of her short purple hair.

  “You’re right,” I continue. “Going to the cemetery, it was messed up, but the truth is I was twisted and broken before I met James Cohen.”

  I stayed silent when I witnessed things that I knew were wrong and each time I didn’t find the courage to speak out, a piece of who I should have been, the man I should have tried to become, died.

  Stella places a hand on my knee. “What happened that night?”

  My pulse thrashes in my veins and pounds at my temples, but if I expect Stella to open up to me, I have to offer her the same in return. “A tractor trailer crossed over the median.”

  “Go on,” she whispers.

  My eyes dart in front of me and I see the headlights of the truck, hear the shattering of glass. “My car spun when I hit the brakes and I turned the wheel to avoid a collision and I did it. I cleared the wreck, but when I got out of my car, he was there...on the ground...and there was blood.”

  “James Cohen?”

  I nod. “Several other people came up and some of them had blankets and a lot of them were on the phone, but no one went close. I did because I kept thinking that was almost me.”

  Almost me.

  “I tried to stop the bleeding, but it soaked through everything and it wasn’t like it was an arm or a leg that I could tie off....” The blood poured from him, from too many cuts and gashes. “He was dying.”

  He had put his hand in the air and it had surprised me how much strength there was in his grip.

  “Don’t leave me,” he begged.

  “I won’t,” I replied, but I wanted to.

  “What happened?” Stella asks, because somehow she senses that the story doesn’t end there.

  “He didn’t want to die.”

  “None of us do,” she says in a soothing way, but she’s pushing me. She knows that there’s more.

  “He told me...” My mouth runs dry. “He told me he did it wrong. His last words, to me and on this earth, were that he lived his life wrong.”

  And it forced me to question mine. Every decision I had made. Every knee-jerk reaction. Would I end up on the side of the road telling someone I did it all wrong?

  As I stare at Stella I see her strength, her beauty, her faith and forgiveness in me, even when I didn’t deserve it—no, I’m not going to do this wrong. “Regardless of what happens between us tonight, tomorrow or twenty years from now, I’m never going to be the guy that says nothing again.”

  “I know you won’t. You’re going to be a great man, Jonah.”

  “And you’ll be there to see it.”

  A slight smile tilts her mouth, but it’s not enough to drain the sadness from her face. “I wish I had your resolve.”

  Resolve? “Stella, you run circles around my sorry butt.”

  She lets out a rush of air that moves her hair. “I’m dropping out of American Lit.”

  I sit up so quickly the headboard of the bed bounces against the wall. “What? Why?”

  “I don’t know what I was thinking signing up for the college prep track. I thought...I thought that I had a shot of breaking out, but I don’t. Once Joss figures out Dad’s not coming back, she’ll throw me out like everyone else has. I need a good job and I have a shot at one. I have to be able to support myself.”

  Whoa. “Stella...” But there are no words.

  “College speeches only sound pretty if they’re true. They’re not true for me. I don’t have someone to catch me if I fall. You’re blessed. You have people who can offer you second chances. I don’t. I get one shot at everything I do so it’s best not to walk the high wire. It’s best I stay on the ground.”

  I glance around my room. There are a ton of things that were not only bought for me, but picked out for me. Without a doubt I know my parents are going to pay for college. What words of advice do I have for Stella?

  When the silence becomes a heavy blanket smothering both of us, Stella finally speaks. “Take me back to Joss’s.”

  Stella

  I tell Jonah to park at the strip mall across the street from Joss’s apartment complex. It’s the end of the month, so we look more white trash than normal with our overflowing dumpster. The pièce de résistance is the child’s tricycle at the top of the furniture pyramid.

  Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I held Jonah’s hand on the way here. He attempted to start a conversation several times, but I cut him off each time. I like the evening we had and the memories burned in my brain are enough.

  A pain pricks at my chest—I’m back to settling for enough.

  Jonah releases my hand and each click of his gearshift from drive to park thunders through my body. This is it. These are our final moments together as Stella and Jonah. Tomorrow we’ll be at school and I’ll be Stella and he’ll be Jonah, but we’ll forever be separate.

  Jonah stares at his hand, still clutching the gearshift. “You never answered about the cemetery.”

  I didn’t. If anyone would understand, maybe it would be him. “So you know how there used to be a Dairy Queen on the corner across from school?”

  He raises an eyebrow, but sticks with me. “Yeah.”

  “And there used to be a Sears in that shopping plaza by the movie theaters?”

  “Yep.”

  “The cemetery doesn’t change.”

  He blinks and it’s hard to find the courage to continue. “The cemetery is always there. Unlike everything else, I can leave and six months later it will still be there and somehow that makes me feel better and not...alone.”

  Unlike how I feel with my dad or whatever girlfriend has taken me in. I’ve never called anywhere home. I’ve never had a steady foundation, but year after year, day after day, the cemetery is the one place that’s been steady and constant.

  “You’re not alone.” Jonah reaches over and, being faster than me, he claims my hand and squeezes it.

  “I am.”

  “You’re not.” His voice is quiet, but his determination is strong. “You have me.”

  My throat tightens and my chest constricts. I pull at the neck of my shirt, hoping for air, but it doesn’t work. Nothing ever works.

  “I can’t do this. I can’t hope that we’ll be a couple. I can’t hope that college will work out. I can’t hope that everything will be okay. Anything that’s good, anything that’s right, it either explodes or it fades and either way I’m left with nothing. If I don’t hope for more, then it can’t hurt as bad. That’s how life works for someone like me.”

  “So you’ll walk away from us. You’ll walk away from this.” He lifts our joint hands in the air. “Because you’re afraid of having hope? You’re afraid of how it’ll turn out?”

&nbs
p; I suck in my trembling bottom lip. I won’t cry. I won’t. “If it hurts this much now, how much will it hurt later? I’m sorry, but I can’t. If everything crumbles, you have something to return to. Friends, a family. I don’t have anything.”

  Using my chin, I gesture to the apartments. “It’s a matter of time before Joss throws me out and then I don’t know what I’m going to do. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll land on my feet, but I can’t take care of myself if I end up with a broken heart. Love is dangerous. It’s just as bad as hope. This is the way life is for me. I have to accept it.”

  My insides, they’re breaking, because I like him. Possibly more than like, but it’s the more that forces me to lay my other hand on the handle and crack the door open. “Thank you, Jonah.”

  He lowers his head at the break in my voice. I ignore the moisture in his eyes and I pretend that mine don’t sting.

  “For what?” he whispers.

  “For showing me that people can change. Even if it is one person out of a million.”

  I tug once on my hand. He doesn’t give. I yank a second time and I swear his hold tightens. I pray for numbness, but I’m consumed by pain. In a quick motion, I lean over the console and kiss his cheek. I close my eyes when his rough evening stubble sweetly scratches my face. I’ll miss him. I’ll miss him so much.

  Jonah turns toward me and I take advantage of his weakened grip to bolt out of the car.

  I run fast. I run far. I run in the hopes that nothing will ever catch up.

  Jonah

  I’ve walked into this school hundreds of times, but this time it’s different. It’s because I’m different and I’m never going back to who I used to be.

  With my books and notebooks in one hand, I strut down the middle of the hallway, scanning for two specific people. By the end of today, I’ll either have failed, succeeded or done a little of both, and I’ll possibly have been suspended.

  I’m good with any of those options—as long as I get Stella back in my life.

  At the corner of the senior hallway, I spot two people, and one has his hand on the waist of someone he should be easily eight feet away from. I intended to talk to him alone, but I don’t mind having an audience. Dropping my books to the floor, I grab Cooper by the collar of his shirt and slam him into the locker.