Close to Me

by Monica Murphy

  He tugs me closer, until I almost collide with his chest. “I guess we’re alike after all.”

  Now he’s just flat out confusing me. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m a liar, just like you.”

  Twenty

  “What did you lie about?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. His fingers curl around my trembling fingers, entwining them, and he slowly presses his palm to mine, his thumb sweeping along the side of my hand. It’s a simple touch, really, yet I feel it all the way down to my toes—and in some other areas too.

  When Ben touched me even more intimately than this, I didn’t feel even a tenth of what I’m experiencing now. My pulse is going haywire, my entire body trembling, and I know it’s not from the cold.

  It’s from Ash.

  “I lied to Rylie.” He hesitates, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes, and little droplets hit my face, making me wince. “About you. More like how I felt about you.”

  “Felt?”

  “Felt. Feel. Same difference.” He shrugs one bare shoulder and my gaze settles there, marveling at how muscular yet lean he is, and how tall. How attracted I am to him. It’s frustrating. He’s frustrating.

  I should run. I don’t need to hear any of this. He has a girlfriend. One who must really care for him, considering her earlier behavior at school. Would I be that hysterical if I knew something terrible had happened to the boy I loved, but I couldn’t find him and he wouldn’t respond to me?

  Yes. Probably.

  “We’re friends,” I remind him gently, and he laughs. Just full-blown laughs like I told him the funniest joke ever.

  And then he releases his grip on me, doubling over with pain, arms wrapped around his ribs. “Fuck, that hurts.”

  “Are you okay?” I reach for him, my hands fluttering around him but never actually making contact. The towel slips from my shoulders and I grab for it, not wanting to expose myself to him. “What hurts?”

  “My ribs. They’re—bruised.” He shifts away from me, like he’s afraid I’m going to make it worse, and he turns so his back to me, his arms still around his middle as he struggles to take in deep, shuddering breaths.

  “Do you need anything?” I ask once his breathing has calmed some.

  He turns his neck so he’s watching me from over his shoulder. “Your mom suggested I sit in the hot tub. She said the hot water will help with my sore muscles.” He cracks a smile. “Want to join me?”

  “No,” I say too quickly, and his smile fades.

  “You’re no fun.”

  “You called me a liar.”

  “Yeah, well, I was pissed.”

  “I was just trying to help her—”

  “You were supposed to be protecting me, Callahan. Not helping Rylie,” he reminds me, and I go quiet.

  He’s right. I’m wrong.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him.

  Slowly he turns to face me once more, and it looks like the towel has loosened around his waist. Not good. “Did you just apologize to me?”

  I nod, swallowing hard. There’s nothing else for me to say.

  “I accept your apology.” He sounds serious and he stands up straight, the towel loosening even more. I blink up at him, trying my best to not look at his waist and the towel, but I don’t think he realizes what I’m doing, or what’s happening. He’s wagging his finger at me like someone scolding their naughty child or pet. “You promise to keep your lips shut? For real this time?”

  I nod, my lips clamped tightly together.

  “Good.” He reaches for the haphazard knot on his side, undoing it with a quick flick of his fingers and flapping the towel open for the briefest second. I catch a glimpse of his hipbone, the smooth skin there, the very top of his hair-covered thigh. God. “I can see your nipples.”

  A gasp escapes me and I look down at myself to see that the towel has come loose around my shoulders, my wet T-shirt exposed and clinging to my chest. I tuck the towel back into place, covering my very cold, very embarrassed nipples, and I want to die.

  Just…

  Die.

  “They’re nice, by the way,” he continues, like we’re having a normal conversation. “I’ve always been more of a tit man.”

  “I hate you,” I whisper miserably.

  “No you don’t,” he says with a grin. Then he does the oddest thing.

  Ash leans in and presses his cheek next to mine, his lips right at my ear. “Get inside before I do something stupid like kiss you.”

  I run back into the house, his laughter chasing after me.

  The next day at school, the rumors aren’t as rampant. Now they’re more along the lines of the cops are looking for Ash, he’s going to get arrested! Which I guess is maybe true? Three sheriff deputy patrol cars were spotted in the admin parking lot around third period, and one of the student office assistants overheard the conversation between the deputies and Mrs. Adney, our vice principal.

  They were questioning her about Ash.

  That particular detail scares me. Are we hiding a criminal at our house? Could my parents get in trouble? Could I get in trouble? I’m less than six months away from eighteen, so I’m practically an adult. No way do I want to go to jail for harboring a known criminal or whatever.

  My imagination is clearly getting away from me, and I mentally tell myself to calm down. At lunch, Rylie actually joins us, which sucks since I planned on telling Kaya and Daphne a little bit of what was going on.

  But maybe that turns out to be a good thing because then I keep my mouth shut and we talk about other things. Normal things. Like the fact that my brother’s going to play in Ash’s place at Friday night’s game. I didn’t even know that was happening, it’s Kaya’s boyfriend who tells me, not my own brother or father, and I think that surprises Jaden.

  It surprises me too.

  “They didn’t mention it?” he asks.

  We’re sitting across from each other, Daphne next to me and Rylie on the other side of her, Kaya pressed against his right side, her arm through his and her head on his shoulder. They are the epitome of the perfect high school relationship. They’ll probably get married within the next few years too. I wouldn’t doubt it.

  Ash and I are the epitome of the toxic high school relationship. The back and forth, the getting with other people when we really want to be with each other—God, I don’t even know if that last part is true—and how we constantly argue. It’s not normal.

  I really, really want normal.

  “They’ve been busy,” I tell Jaden, and he nods, accepting my answer.

  Rylie keeps trying to talk with me about Ash, and I don’t say a word. In fact, I’m constantly trying to change the subject, as does Daphne, who I know is doing it for my benefit. But it’s almost like Rylie trying to force me to admit Ash is still at my house, and she mentions more than once that he’s barely texted her since everything happened.

  That’s not my fault, and that’s not my story to tell, so I remain quiet.

  In class, I can’t concentrate. My mind drifts to what Ash said last night. What he did. What I saw. How he affects me. How I try my hardest to deny it. He’s frustrating, everything about our situation is frustrating, and deep down, there’s a secret part of me that wishes he would just break up with Rylie so I could have him all to myself.

  Our timing is never right.

  Wednesdays we don’t have cheer practice, so I’m home early. Right after school. Dad brings Jake home from football practice, and Ava is at dance class, so she’ll also ride home with Dad and Jake. When I pull into the driveway, the garage doors are closed, which usually means no one is home, and my thoughts are confirmed when I enter the silent house.

  I realize quick it’s not actually silent at all. I can hear someone talking, very, very faintly. And I think it’s Ash.

  Carefully I set my backpack at the base of the stairwell so I can grab it later before I head up to my room, and make my way toward the other side of the house. It’s all bare floors throughout
our home, and footsteps can sometimes echo, so I’m creeping carefully like a stalker, praying he doesn’t hear me.

  So I can spy on him.

  I’m at my lowest point, I realize. Spying on this boy who makes me so angry, yet also fills me with this uncontrollable lust I’ve never experienced before. But I’m not stopping myself. I’m going to listen in on this conversation he’s having, and I sort of don’t care if I’m crossing any boundaries.

  He constantly crosses my boundaries, so it’s only fair, right?

  I’m in the hallway, dangerously close to his bedroom door, which is partially open, when I can hear him talking. “Ry. Baby. Stop crying. I can’t take it.”

  My heart feels like it’s shriveling inside my chest. He just called her baby.

  So gross.

  Now I sound like I’m mentally reverting to a thirteen-year-old.

  He remains quiet, and I swear I can hear her muffled voice, which sounds very upset. Like she might be crying/raging at him over something.

  “I already told you, I can’t have you come over here,” he finally says, his voice lower than usual. It’s not as raspy today, and I’m hoping that means whatever damage that asshole who choked him did is healing. “It’s not my place to just invite you. I don’t live here. Besides, I’m trying to lay low.”

  My parents would probably let her come over. I’m thinking this has more to do with Ash than with him imposing on our family.

  “Yeah, I miss you too.” He almost sounds bored when he says it.

  Maybe that’s wishful thinking on my part.

  I also wish I could hear what she’s saying.

  Then again, I don’t.

  “What do you mean, you don’t believe me?” He pauses, and I assume she’s talking. “Give me a break, Ry. I got beat the hell up and you don’t think I sound like I miss you enough? What do you want, to hear me crying like you are? Like crying somehow proves that I care?”

  Now she’s yelling. I can actually make out a few words. Like, mean and I don’t matter and need you.

  “We’ve only been hanging out for a few weeks,” he says, and I get this sense that he’s feeling what I’m feeling. She is moving way too fast. “And what just happened to me is…serious. Like, I can’t give you all the details type serious.”

  More screaming. The bed creaks and I take a few steps back, afraid he might start walking around. Maybe even exit the bedroom outright, only to discover me in the hall.

  I’d have to play it off. Pretend I was coming to see him, though I have no reason to. I’m supposed to be mad at him still, right?

  “She doesn’t know everything, I swear. I’m not even spending that much time with her. She’s always—” Rylie must interrupt him, and I realize…

  She’s talking about me.

  “Ry. I’m telling you the truth. She doesn’t know anything more than you do.” That’s a lie. “And no, I’m not spending any time with her.” Another lie. “Come on. Stop acting like a jealous bitch.”

  And…

  The call’s over.

  If my boyfriend ever called me a jealous bitch, I’d dump him. End of story.

  I take a few steps back, then start walking down the hall like I’ve just arrived, even rapping my knuckles along the wall in warning, like my dad does to Jake, so he doesn’t interrupt him doing something my dad or mom never, ever want to see.

  “Hey.” I stop in the doorway, oddly exhilarated at seeing a sullen Ash sitting on the edge of the unmade bed, his legs and arms sprawled out, hands braced behind him on the mattress, his dark gaze meeting mine. His jaw is tight, as are his lips, and ooh man, he looks furious. Especially with the bruises and scrapes.

  He also looks deliciously, dangerously attractive.

  “How are you?” I ask brightly when he still hasn’t said anything. “Just so you know, the rumors at school are a little quieter today.”

  “I thought you promised you would never lie to me?” He lifts one brow in challenge.

  “Well, that part is true. They weren’t talking about you as much.” I wince. “Also, the cops were at school, asking about you.”

  “There’s the truth I was looking for. But thanks, I already heard about it.”

  I’m frowning. “Who told you?”

  “Rylie. God, she was acting like such a bitch just now. I don’t have time for her whining, not with everything else that’s going on.” He shakes his head and sits up straighter. “I should block her number.”

  Hope lights me up from within and I tell myself to stop it. “She’s just worried about you.”

  “Stop defending her. She was saying all sorts of bullshit about you,” he mutters.

  “Like what?”

  “She’s just jealous.” He waves a hand, dismissing what he said. “You still mad at me, Callahan?”

  “Why am I mad at you?” Just being in his presence makes me forget things, like holding onto any anger toward him.

  “For dragging you into the pool. For flashing you my dick. For complimenting your nipples.” He holds up his hand and ticks off each reason with his fingers. “That’s three things. I’m sure I can come up with a few more.”

  “I’m over it.” I step into the room and glance around. It’s a very bland room, with a small dresser, a desk and a bed. Of course, it’s a guest room, and they’re supposed to be bland, so…no surprise. “What did you do today?”

  “Hid out in here. Your dad and I had a talk. He told me your brother is taking my place at Friday’s game.” The grim expression on Ash’s face tells me he’s not happy about it. “Fucking sucks.”

  “You can’t play. You’re still hurt,” I start, but Ash cuts me off with a look.

  “If that motherfucker ruins my football career, I will kill him.”

  “Are you talking about my brother?” I start to back out of the room.

  “No, of course not!” I stop in my tracks, relief flooding me. “I’m talking about that asshat boyfriend of my mom’s. Don.” Ash curls his hand into a fist and smacks his thigh. “I have to play next week. Keep up my stats. Your mom says colleges could be watching me, and I need more film to upload.”

  “Upload where?” I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  “There’s a website where you can upload game film for college scouts. Not like I’m going to be picked up by one, but your mom is filling my head with unicorns and sunshine every time we talk, so you never know.” He rises to his feet and starts heading in my direction. “Hey, whatcha doing right now?”

  I back up as he keeps coming. “I was going to do homework.”

  “Wrong answer.” He smiles, and I realize his eye is not as swollen today. It almost looks normal. “How about we go for a drive?”

  No. Don’t do it. It’s like he’s playing with fire and I’m dying to get burned. He has a girlfriend-friend-I don’t know what to call her who’s jealous of me. If she found out we went for a “drive,” she’d be so upset.

  “I can’t,” I say weakly, and he shakes his head.

  “Wrong answer again, Callahan. I need your help.” He stops directly in front of me, reaches out, and slips his fingers beneath my chin to tilt my face up so I have to look at him. “And you won’t turn me down when I ask for help, will you?”

  The sigh that escapes me is louder than I meant it to be. “What do you want?”

  “Take me to my house so I can get my shit?” he asks hopefully.

  “That sounds dangerous.”

  “Mom’s at work and the asshole is too. Not dangerous at all,” he says swiftly.

  If my parents found out, they would be so angry. At me, and Ash. “You know my parents won’t approve.”

  “When has that ever stopped you?” He raises his brows. “Come on, live a little. Walk on the wild side with me. It’ll take me all of five minutes to grab what I need, ’cause I don’t have much. Not like you do.”

  His words make me feel guilty, and it’s the guilt that has me agreeing to this stupid plan.

  I hope I
don’t regret it.

  Twenty-One

  When I drive into his neighborhood, I notice immediately it’s pretty run down. The houses are older and small, and the yards aren’t as well kept. Ash makes me park down the street from where he lives, which I think is a bad idea, but then he casually mentions that people’s cars get broken into at his apartment complex’s parking lot all the time, so I decide his decision isn’t so bad.

  We dart down the sidewalk and approach the building from the opposite side than he normally does, or so he tells me. We’re acting like we’re spies in a teen thriller and it’s almost kind of funny, if it also wasn’t so scary.

  It’s still sunny outside, considering it’s close to five on a September day, and the complex seems fairly quiet. There are a few kids running around on scooters or bikes. An older woman is sitting out on her tiny front porch, talking loudly on a cell phone while simultaneously screaming at one of the kids, who must belong to her. Ash is clinging to the edge of the building, watching everything play out in the courtyard of the apartment building, and I’m standing right behind him, waiting for his word to go.

  “I wish Mrs. Conrad wasn’t sitting outside.” He shakes his head, glancing back at me. “She’s got a big mouth.”

  Everyone has a big mouth in this town, I want to tell him. Someone could spot my car and recognize it. Tell my parents that they saw it parked on this road and bam, Ash and I would be totally busted. “Where’s your apartment?”

  He points to the door that’s on the opposite end of the building from where Mrs. Conrad is sitting. The blinds covering the single window that overlooks the courtyard are bent and tangled, and I wonder if they’ve been like that for a while, or if they got damaged from the fight Ash got in with this Don guy.

  “Why don’t we sneak in by going this way?” I gesture with my hand that we should go right instead of straight. “Go around this building and come out the other side.”

  He smiles, his eyes lighting up, and in this moment he looks so young, despite all the fresh damage on his face. “Brilliant idea, Callahan. I knew there was a reason I brought you with me.”