by Hughes, Maya
The need to answer those questions sat with me well into the night. My gaze kept darting outside to see if her car was back. As it inched closer to midnight, worry pawed at my gut like a restless dog looking for tummy rubs. The knocking rumble of her engine got me out of bed at just before midnight. I don’t want to say I leapt out of bed, but I’d have probably made a convincing understudy for the Philadelphia Ballet.
I leaned against the window and stared out at the night sky like I wasn’t being a creeper.
She didn’t get out of her car. Her hands stayed on the steering wheel and she rested her head against it, staying there for so long the worry in my stomach turned into tendrils of fear.
I’d just pushed away from the window to head downstairs when her head popped up.
Much slower than when she’d left, she climbed out of her car. Her black t-shirt and jeans were stained with a kaleidoscope of colors. Every inch of her screamed dead on her feet. What had she been doing after the day we’d just had to make her look like that?
She slammed her door shut, and my fingers tightened on the windowsill. Rounding the front of her car, her head lifted.
Before I could take a dive, our eyes met. Her weary look changed, and not in the way I was used to from the many times our gazes had locked across the street. She lifted her hand and gave me a short wave and a smile. Her expression sparkled in the dim streetlights even though her weariness made me exhausted. I’d hefted a championship trophy over my head, but this felt like a win I’d never forget. My first completely unprompted smile from her lit me up like a damn Christmas tree.
She jogged up the steps to her place with a bit more energy than before. A small stumble at the front door and she glared at the porch like she was ready to dismantle it warped plank by warped plank. At least I wasn’t the only one who’d gotten that stare. She disappeared inside, and I lay in my bed with my hands behind my head.
Why did I have to beat down the urge to run across the street and check on her? Why had I thought at all about where she was going tonight? We’d only begun our armistice, and the build was almost over; no sense in getting involved beyond that. Then again, there was nothing wrong with being a good neighbor…
11
Elle
I wiped the sweat running down my neck away with the FU Trojan towels Nix had brought the day before.
He’d held one out to me. “I got the team to send over a bunch they were going to throw out since they’re redesigning them for next season.” Uncertainty had filled his gaze as he’d gripped the towel in one hand.
Has the light always caught the gray flecks in his eyes like that? I’d shaken my head, willing the brain fog away.
“We’ll get them a donation certificate.” I’d taken the towel from him and stared down at it. “Thanks, Golden Boy.” There had been no derision in the words this time. He was a good guy. Damnit, why couldn’t he have been an asshole? That would’ve made my life so much easier.
The number of times I’d had to banish the thoughts of working beside him from my head when I lay in bed too exhausted to fall asleep right away had reached an annoying level. Every time I’d close my eyes, his mussed hair, razor-sharp jawline, and should-be-illegal smile invaded my mind.
But the week was over. I’d miss being outside, even if most of my build days had been spent in the shed with Nix. He’d held a mirror up to what a bitch I’d been. It seemed old habits die hard. Those old feelings of peering over my shoulder as people snickered at my misfortune turned my stomach. Shoving those feelings deep down and pretending they didn’t exist kept me going just like it always did.
Krista and the Glitter Posse hadn’t complained after the initial rundown from me. They’d gotten on the bus last after everyone else, sweaty and disheveled and laughing while snapping their pictures. One of the moms and her two daughters who’d get one of the modified houses showed up to put in a few hours on day three. The ramp for her youngest in a wheelchair had lit a fire under their asses, and her daughters had sat under the shade of one of the massive oaks on the property and laughed their way through princess chat with the Glitter Posse. Krista had shown off her bedazzled hammer and helped them drive a few nails into the wood. There were no complaints about sweat, the heat, or breaking nails. They’d even sung some of their favorite Disney princess songs with the girls and made it an even more special day for them. Their little kid smiles were freaking magical.
My judgmental bitch slap came right back around to me. I’d gone from cheerleading squad member of the queen bee posse back in high school to getting my hands dirty in college. I never wanted to be around people who’d be assholes. I wanted to do good things, and it didn’t hurt that it changed the way people looked at me and treated me.
Which made me an even bigger asshole.
Shame pitted in my stomach at the thought that part of the reason I’d even dyed my hair initially was because it helped me stand out in pictures. My no-longer-as-bright-but-still-conspicuously-pink hair made me easy to spot while putting in all that good work. All this time, I’d hoped I’d changed, wanted nothing more than to change, but I was misjudging people left and right—especially Nix. The end of this week would also be the end of my time with him. We’d ended up with more than a truce. He wasn’t anything like I’d expected, and that scared the shit out of me.
With this project finished, we could go back to being neighbors, but actual neighbors, not the call-campus-security-every-night kind. Okay, the kind I’d been before.
Rick clapped his hands and cupped them around his mouth to call us all over.
I put the tools back, and everyone else cleaned up their gear and stood in a semicircle around a beaming Rick.
“I want to thank everyone for an amazing week. I can’t tell you how much your time and effort means to the families who’ll get to live in these and use the special projects you’ve all worked so hard on.”
Nix stood beside me and rocked his shoulder into mine. I nudged him back and crossed my arms over my chest, letting Rick do his wrap-up speech. Everyone clapped and dove into the traditional tray of soft-baked chocolate chip cookies we always got at the end of a build.
I grabbed a few and parked up at one of the wooden picnic tables in the setting sun.
“I’m totally doing this next spring break. You guys in?” Krista bubbled like she’d never bubbled before. She and the rest of the Glitter Posse flipped through their phones, laughing at the pictures they’d taken.
Maybe they’d be up for being coordinators next year. They could probably spread the word to a totally different part of the FU population we hadn’t tapped into yet, maybe help promote this thing beyond the usuals.
Nix walked out of Rick’s office trailer and shook his hand. Rick clapped him on the shoulder and headed back inside.
Dragging his hand through his hair, Nix’s smile faltered for a second when he spotted me.
He didn’t have to put up with me anymore. There’d probably be tire peel marks in the parking lot from his car now that the week was over.
I dropped my hands to my lap, the half-melted chocolate chips no longer holding the same appeal. The whole table and my bench popped up, lifting my feet off the ground.
My head shot up.
Nix slid onto the bench on the other side of the table.
“You going to eat those?” He pointed at the three fully intact cookies still on my napkin.
I pushed them toward him, unable to beat back my smile. “Go for it.”
“Awesome. I’m starving.” He was a bottomless pit.
“What were you talking to Rick about?”
He froze with the cookie halfway to his mouth. “Nothing, really. Just wanted to know more about volunteering after graduation.”
“That’s awesome. They can always use more help.”
“What are you doing after graduation?” He licked the chocolate off his fingers and I tried not to stare. I mean, I totally did, but I tried not to.
“After graduation,
you say? I don’t understand the question.”
“Caps, gowns, stupid long speeches by people we won’t remember by the time we get to our cars.” He listed out each wonderful staple of the pomp and circumstance waiting just around the corner for us. “You know, graduation.”
“Nope, doesn’t ring any bells.” I shook my head and jumped up from the bench.
“You’re leaving?” He rose halfway from his seat.
“We’re finished and I’m beat. I’ve got a thing to go to later on tonight, so I’m going home to take a shower and squeeze in a nap.”
“Oh.” That almost sounded like disappointment in his voice. “A date?”
I want to say it was a laugh, but what came out was more like a delirious cackle that only strikes when you’re stupid tired. “Maybe.” Real smooth. I was Jif peanut butter—that’s how smooth I was. “I mean, yeah, I’m going on a date.”
He laughed, shaking his head, and stood. “Don’t hurt yourself. You almost ruptured something trying to come up with that lie.” Balling up his trash, he sank it into the trashcan twenty feet away.
Weren’t three cookies on that napkin…?
“Show off,” I grumbled. “Who says I’m not going on a date?” Why was I following him? Just get in your car and go pass out at home, Elle.
“You—from the way you nearly fell over laughing when I asked if you were going on a date.”
“Maybe I’m surprised you even have to ask. I’m on dates constantly—all the time, like almost daily. Remember that supersized box of condoms.” I winked as I tugged on the handle of the driver’s side door to my car and nearly pulled the damn thing off. Bumping it back in with my hip, I pushed it in and lifted gingerly until the lock disengaged.
“Interesting.” Nix leaned his back against his car, crossed his arms over his chest, and kicked one ankle over the other, looking like a damn catalog model. He was stupid pretty like that, slightly sweaty, muscled, and mussed. “What was your favorite date out of the last ten?”
I froze with my door open, one foot inside and one on the gravel lot. “The movies?”
“Is that a question?” His goofy grin transformed his chiseled jaw into a dimpled tease.
Straightening my shoulders, I held his gaze. He was not going to take me down. “The movies.”
He lifted his chin and pursed his lips together. “Which one?”
Damnit. I racked my brain trying to think of something current, something I’d seen a poster or commercial for in the last few months.
I hedged. “A Marvel movie.” Lunging for that lifeline, I spat out the franchise I knew was still around.
“I love those. Which one was it? Was it Thor or Spiderman?”
“Spiderman. Gotta love Spidey.” My attempt at a web-slinging motion probably looked like I was having some kind of unfortunate hand spasm.
“Those movies both came out last year.” His pearly white grin should’ve made me want to glower and throw out a few choice words. But it didn’t.
My mouth opened and closed. I slapped my hand into my forehead. Total fail. I threw my head back and laughed. The sound caught in my throat as I lifted my head and came face to face with Nix. He hadn’t gone to his driver’s side. He’d come to mine, putting us inches apart. I swallowed.
“But if you’re up for a night out, I’d be more than happy to—”
I’m not a coward, I swear. I walked the halls of my high school with my head held high after James visited over Thanksgiving break with his new girlfriend on his arm. I pretended the snickering, pointing, and flat-out laughter didn’t get to me. When I had to back out of the senior trip because we couldn’t afford it anymore, I braved that like Cersei on her shame walk, but Nix asking me out on a date? I noped right out of that. Knocked him out of the way and closed my door before he could finish that sentence.
There may or may not have been peel-out marks in the gravel, and I didn’t look in my rearview mirror. It was so much easier to say no when you didn’t want something than when you did. And dating—hell, a date with Nix wasn’t what I needed right then, or ever. My relationship track record would’ve made any sports fan cry. He didn’t just have heartbreaker written all over him—it was scrawled up in the clouds by a skywriter, displayed in glowing neon above his ocean blue eyes and way-too-kind smile.
He was all my mistakes wrapped up into one bright, shiny package.
Not just any football player, but the star quarterback who’d just won a national championship and lived in a house nicknamed the Brothel.
Nice guy who did charity work.
And I was into him.
No matter how much I’d tried to deny it and used my anger and annoyance as a shield, I liked him. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.
The last thing I needed to do was crawl across the college finish line with my heart trampled by the hordes of women scrambling for his attention.
Plus, I was leaving at the end of the semester for who knew where. Friends, I could do. More than that—not happening. The problem with my platonic plan became apparent as I pulled up in front of my house after driving around for a bit.
“Hey, neighbor! Getting ready for your date?” I jumped as the voice I’d thought I could outrun shot across the street.
The heads of a few other students walking down the sidewalk turned to glance between us.
I lifted my hand overhead and waved before jogging up my steps. How the hell was I supposed to avoid him when he lived forty feet away?
12
Nix
The tailored suit of the man sitting across from me was exactly like the suits of the four other agents I’d met with—tonight. It was my dad’s version of speed dating. I’d rather be at home hanging with the guys, plus I was beat after the spring break build.
I rocked back in my chair, keeping my hands in my lap and nowhere near the stack of papers with a pen perched on top of them. Elle had smiled at me this afternoon when she’d walked out to her car. That smile and small wave were the reason I’d pretty much camped out on our front porch now that the weather had switched from flirting with spring to almost summer.
Every time I walked over there, she was gone. Heavenly smells came from the other side of the door, but the one treat I wanted was never there. She had to be the busiest person on campus.
“We’d love to bring you on board as one of our newest athletes. We always negotiate the best deals possible with an eye toward your career after you leave the field. I’m sure your father can attest to that.”
“I’m sure he would.” The song and dance grated on me like a slow drip of water on the center of my forehead. Busting out of there as quickly as I could, I headed back home. I’d perfected the right amount of attention in a conversation to ensure a report wouldn’t go back to my dad about how I didn’t seem to be paying attention or interested.
Rubbing my eyes, I braced both hands on the wheel, fried and ready for bed. I kept driving for at least a block before her car registered. That wasn’t just any car on the side of the road; it was Elle’s, and it wasn’t just a broken-down vehicle. She stood beside it looking under the hood. I threw my car into reverse and backed up, parking in front of hers.
She waved me off. “It’s okay. I don’t need any help,” were the first words out of her mouth when my door opened.
Standing up, I walked around the back of the car.
“Seriously, I’ve got it.”
Didn’t she sound thrilled I’d stopped to help? Gumdrops and syrup practically poured out of her mouth. The space between her eyebrows was pinched tight. So she hadn’t said no just because it was me; her guard was always up.
“Oh, hey Nix.” Some of the tightness relaxed and she let out a sigh.
“Car trouble?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s on its last legs, and a defibrillator isn’t going to work this time.” She chucked the wrench at the remnants of the hunk of metal that may have at one point been considered a car. Wiping her hands on her pants, she let down th
e hood. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at it like a teacher staring at a kid who’d let her down in class. The mumbling under her breath added to it. Turning, she ran her hands through her hair, spreading a streak of grease through her bright pink strands.
“Did you call for a tow?”
“My phone’s dead.”
“Dangerous thing when you’re out on the road at night.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I huffed in a totally-not-a-dad kind of way. “Did you need a ride somewhere?”
She spun on her heels and stared at me like she’d just remembered I was there. Wiping at the grease smudges on her face, she shook her head.
“I can walk. It’s fine.” She waved me off and wrenched open the passenger side door.
“Why walk when I’m offering you a ride?” I ducked down to look at her through the open driver’s side window.
She was on her hands and knees inside, reaching into the back seat for her bag. The position also had the side effect of giving me a clear shot down the top of her V-neck shirt. Hints of her purple bra cupping the full softness of the breasts I’d been tortured by over spring break peeked out from under the gray fabric. I’d like to say I turned away and averted my eyes, but come on, they were spectacular. The gravitational pull of her cleavage was a thing of astronomical beauty.
My fingers tightened on the edge of the window. Visions of me running my hands over those smooth curves rushed through my mind.
Her head tilted to the side, and she followed my line of sight.
Letting out an annoyed hiss, she grabbed her bag and jumped out of the car. “Sure, I’ll take the ride from you as payment for the show.”
“I can’t help it.” I held up my hands in mock surrender. “They were right there. It’s a reflex.”
