Close to Me

by Monica Murphy

  The only reason he brought me was to use my car, but I don’t mention that. I may as well bask in his kind words while I can.

  We sneak around the apartment building closest to us and come out the other side, right in front of his door. He holds me back with one arm braced across my stomach, and his casual touch sends butterflies fluttering in my belly. “Stay here,” he whispers, and I do as he says, remaining as still as he is until finally, with a single nod, he gives us the signal we can go. “Run.”

  I follow after him, impressed with his speed, though I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve seen him run on the football field; when there’s no one to throw to, he just runs the ball in himself. He’s already got the key in the lock when I stop just behind him, and then we’re inside, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, my nose wrinkling as the smell hits me.

  It looks like a bomb went off inside the living room. There’s a stack of empty pizza boxes on the battered coffee table, accompanied by various beer cans, some of them toppled over. It smelled like rotten food and dirty laundry in here, like it hasn’t been cleaned in God knows how long, and I chance a look at Ash, but he’s not even paying attention to me.

  He heads down the short hall and opens a door, muttering something under his breath as he pushes his way inside. “Fucker went through my stuff!” he yells.

  Looking for the drugs Ash mentioned to me? Probably.

  I follow after him, stopping in the doorway of his bedroom. It’s a mess, there’s stuff everywhere, and it looks like every drawer of his dresser was pulled out and dumped. All of his clothes are on the floor, and there’s a small stack of shirts still on the hangers thrown on top of his unmade bed. It doesn’t smell as bad in here. In fact, I can smell traces of his soap or cologne lingering in the air.

  “Do you need any help?”

  He grabs a duffel bag from the top shelf of his closet and tosses it onto the bed, unzipping it. “Just watch for anyone approaching the front door while I get my stuff.”

  I freeze, fear slipping down my spine with icy-cold fingers. “I don’t know what your mom or her boyfriend look like.”

  “That doesn’t matter. Just keep watch for anyone coming to the front door, okay?” He sends me a look, one that says don’t argue with me, so I do as he says and go back out into the living room.

  I stand at the very window I stared at only a few minutes ago, peeking through the bent blinds every few minutes. Mostly I take in the damage that’s been done in both this room and the kitchen, which is where the worst smell of all is coming from. The sink is piled with dirty dishes, most of them covered with dried, crusted food. The small counters are covered with more beer cans, to-go coffee cups and lots and lots of crumbs. It’s like the people who live here just don’t care.

  And that makes me sad. Sadder than I’ve ever felt for Ash, and that’s saying a lot, considering how bad I felt for him when I first saw his face.

  This is the environment he lives in. Has grown up in. His father died, I don’t know when, and his mother doesn’t seem to care much about anything, if her house is an indication.

  Ash emerges from his bedroom to walk into the bathroom directly across the hall. “Give me a few more minutes. Almost ready.”

  I glance out the window again but see no one. Just the kids playing in the courtyard. The old woman is still sitting in front of her place. The buildings are rundown, and they look like they could use a fresh coat of paint. This is the poorer section of town, a section I don’t visit much, if ever, and I realize why.

  This place is depressing. Almost…scary. Our town is small, but we have our fair share of crime and homelessness. Ava did a report on the local homeless problem last year for one of her final eighth grade projects, and she even sent it in to the county supervisors’ office, but she never heard back from them. She had some decent solutions too.

  “Okay.” Ash approaches me, and I can tell he’s actually thrown on more clothes too. He’s layered up, wearing a thick school hoodie and a pair of fleece joggers. He’s going to be hot when he gets outside. “You ready?”

  I nod. “No one’s out there except for your one neighbor still.”

  He brushes past me and peeks through the blinds, staring at her for a while. “She probably saw us sneak in here already.”

  “You think so?” What if she called Ash’s mom and her boyfriend? What if one of them is on their way over right now?

  Or worse, what if she called the cops?

  “She might tell Mom. Or Don. For all I know, she already has.” He turns to look at me, and I know I must seem totally freaked out. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”

  We leave, Ash not bothering to lock the door behind him. We run behind the building, toward the street, and when we’re sliding into my car only a few minutes later, both of us are breathless, Ash clutching his side and chuckling. “You did good, Callahan.”

  I warm under his compliment, even though it’s the stupidest one ever. “I did nothing, if we’re being honest.”

  “You helped. You got me here, remember?” He tosses his stuffed duffel bag into the backseat of my car, then tugs the hoodie off, wincing when he pulls it over his head. “Thanks for bringing me.”

  His tone has gone terribly serious. I glance over at him to find he’s already watching me, his dark eyes fixed on my face. “You’re welcome.”

  “Means a lot.” He swallows hard. “That you helped.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Ash reaches for his hips and starts shoving the fleece joggers off, practically taking his shorts with them. I catch a glimpse of flat stomach, a dark trail of hair from beneath his navel that leads into the waistband of his gray boxer briefs, and I know I’m openly staring.

  I also don’t really care.

  “Like what you see?” The amusement in his raspy voice is unmistakable.

  Glancing up, I catch him smiling at me. My cheeks are red, I can feel how hot they are, but I’m so tired of denying my attraction to him. “Yes,” I admit, surprised at my bold admission.

  He parts his lips, ready to say something else, and I lean toward him in anticipation. But then a car on the road catches his attention and his eyes go wide. “Oh shit. Duck!”

  Ash tugs my arm and we both go down, hovering below the dash, our breathing harsh. A car goes driving by—I can hear its overly loud motor—and then it’s gone.

  “You get up first. He won’t know you.” Ash actually sounds…

  Scared.

  I lift my head and peek around, but there’s no cars on the road, no asshole coming for my car, shaking his fist. I push the button and start the engine, then pull away from the curb, desperate to create as much distance as possible from this place.

  Ash settles into the seat and tugs the seatbelt on, which surprises me, even though I watched him put it on earlier when we drove over here. He seems the sort to ride without one defiantly, saying, “When my time comes, God will take me no matter what. What’s the point of wearing one of these?”

  “Safety first,” he says when he catches me staring. He clicks the belt into place and smiles at me. “That was a close one.”

  “Who was it?” His attitude is baffling. I can’t help but wonder if this is all some big game to him.

  “Don. The asshole who beat me up.” He shakes his head. “I bet old Mrs. Conrad told him I was here.”

  Then it definitely was a close one. Fear ripples in the pit of my stomach and I clutch the steering wheel, the reality of what just happened starting to dawn. “What we just did was so dangerous.”

  “Yeah.” He shrugs. “But we didn’t get caught, so…”

  “I don’t do dangerous things,” I tell him, my voice even, my thoughts in chaos. “Like…ever.”

  “Hang around with me and you’ll find yourself doing something dangerous every single day,” he says with a grin.

  There’s innuendo there. I’m not stupid. He’s referring to himself. I should tell him that won’t work, considering Rylie’s still in the picture. I mig
ht’ve kissed him when I was still with Ben, but I still haven’t forgiven myself for that. No way can anything happen between us while he’s with Rylie. I can’t do that to her.

  I won’t do that to anyone ever again.

  “I’m serious, Ash. That was freaking scary. What if he caught us? What if he caught me? And did something to me?” My hands are trembling, and I clutch the steering wheel as tight as I can.

  “Your dad would’ve had my ass, and Don’s too,” he says conversationally, like no big deal. “He would’ve been so pissed.”

  “I could’ve been hurt. Can’t you see that?” I sound near hysterics, and maybe I am. Maybe I shouldn’t be driving. I pull over to the side of the road so I can catch my breath, calm my pounding heart, still my racing mind.

  “You weren’t, okay? Everything’s cool. We’re good. We’re safe,” he reassures me, his brows furrowed.

  Like the wimp that I’ve suddenly become, I start to cry. And I feel so stupid, especially after hearing him tell Rylie earlier to stop crying. He must not like it when a girl cries, and I want him to like me. Despite everything, despite how mean and rude he’s been to me over the years, and how fucked up his life is, I like him. I care about him. I want him to feel the same way about me, but he probably won’t because I’m a crying, lame-ass wimp.

  “Aw, Callahan, don’t cry. You’re breaking my fucking heart.” He rests a hand over his chest, rubbing it absently as I sit there and just bawl like a baby.

  “You don’t like it when a girl cries, I get it.” I sniff, wipe at my eyes, but the tears keep coming.

  And then he does the craziest thing.

  He unbuckles his seatbelt and scoots closer, unbuckling mine as well. He hits the starter button, turning off the car but not the radio, and he leans over the center console, pulling me into an awkward embrace.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs into my ear as he gently strokes my back. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I press my face into his shoulder and breathe deep, desperate to get myself under control. He smells so good. Nothing like that disgusting apartment he lives in. He’s wearing an old football T-shirt, and it’s so soft. He feels so solid and warm. And he’s most likely still in pain from the beating he took only a couple of days ago.

  Yet here he is, comforting me. Telling me it’s going to be okay. Apologizing.

  “I’m sorry.” I pull away from him, our faces still so close. Kissing close. His breath wafts across my face, and it smells like mint. “I didn’t mean to fall apart.”

  “Hey.” He curls his fingers around my chin and lifts so I have no choice but to gaze up at him. I must look a mess. “I would’ve protected you. If Don had showed up, I would’ve thrown myself in front of you before he could even look at you. No way would I let that asshole lay a hand on you.”

  I blink, trying to push away the tears still clinging to my eyelashes. “Really?”

  “You think I’m going to just stand there and watch that asshole put even a single finger on you? Hell no. I would’ve killed him.”

  He says it with such conviction, I almost believe him.

  “I scare you,” Ash says when I remain silent. He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering, playing with my earlobe, and I close my eyes, savoring the sweet touch. “I’m not good enough for you. I know that.”

  My eyes pop open and I part my lips, ready to protest when he rests a single finger over my mouth, silencing me. “It’s true. You saw where I live. You know what I am.” He skims his finger across the seam of my lips, then traces my cheek, his touch featherlight, making me shiver. “If you just gave me a chance, I’d give you anything you want.”

  My heart catches, along with my breath. What is he saying? What does he mean?

  “Are you k-kidding?” My voice is so shaky I can barely get the words out.

  He laughs, the sound dying as fast as it started. “Never. Not with you. I mean it. One hundred percent.”

  This is it. Do or die time. I can tell him to stay away from me or I can give in.

  “What can I do to make you believe me?” he asks.

  “I can’t be with you if you’re with Rylie,” I tell him.

  “I was never actually with her in the first place, so that’s not a problem. I’ll tell her we can’t hang out anymore,” he says without hesitation. He makes it sound so easy, but I don’t know...

  My tears have all dried up now, and I can’t help the hope that’s rising in my chest, making me feel as light as air. Like I could possibly walk on clouds. “Really?”

  “Really,” he says firmly.

  I stare at him, shocked by how agreeable he’s being.

  Shocked yet pleased.

  “Meet me at the hot tub tonight. Eleven o’clock. I’ll prove it to you that we’re done,” he says, his voice, his eyes, his everything so utterly sincere.

  “Ash…”

  “Don’t say another word, Callahan. You know you want this.” His mouth rests on mine, but he doesn’t kiss me. His lips are parted, and so are mine, and it’s as if we’re breathing each other’s breath. Filling each other with strength.

  With courage.

  “Say it. Say you’ll meet me later.” When he speaks, his lips tickle mine, and I can’t help but smile.

  “I’ll meet you,” I whisper, and he kisses me. A simple, sweet kiss that makes me burn for more.

  “Now let’s get the hell out of here,” he says as he slowly pulls away, settling once more in the passenger seat.

  It takes everything I have to not speed home. Ash strikes up conversation, talking about miscellaneous stuff, and I can’t believe how casual we are. How normal this feels. Everything is always so high intensity when Ash and I are together, that it’s nice, just driving home and gossiping about people at school. Laughing over something that happened at last week’s football game. Getting annoyed with him but not really when he starts making fun of some of our dumber cheers.

  Yes, we have a few dumb cheers. Yes, sometimes we’re embarrassed to do them in front of the crowds, but our cheer coaches make us, and honestly, a lot of the people in the stands seem to appreciate them. So we do them. And grin and bear it every single time.

  “I like knowing you’re cheering me on, Callahan,” he says right when I turn onto my street.

  My whole body grows warm. “Really? Or are you just saying that?”

  “I’ve told you before, I always can make out your voice above everyone else’s when you guys are cheering. Even when I’m out on the field and my head is buzzing, trying to make the next play. Knowing that you’re yelling for me, encouraging me…” He rests his hand over his heart. “It does something to me inside.”

  Laughing, I reach out and push on his rock-hard bicep, shaking my head. “You’re so full of it.”

  “I’m being real with you right now.” He is dead serious when he says it too.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh.” Now he’s laughing as I pull into my driveway. “There’s something about you. You turn me into a sappy motherfucker.”

  “I do?”

  He nods, grabbing my arm when I make to open my door. I turn to look at him, hoping like hell my little brother doesn’t come running out, or worse, my mom. She’s home now. Her car is in the garage and here we are, staring at each other a little too closely.

  “Once I’m inside, I’m going to talk to Rylie. I’m a shit person for not doing it face to face, but fuck it. I’ll at least call her. Maybe even FaceTime her.”

  “Um, all right.” I mean, what am I supposed to say to that?

  “So I might be in my room for a little while, because Rylie is pretty damn persistent,” he says. “She might not go easy.”

  I nod once. “O-okay.”

  “And we’re still on for eleven at the hot tub?”

  I nod again.

  He smiles, and the sight of it makes my heart sing. “Good. See you later.” He grabs his duffel bag from the backseat…

  And then he’s gone
.

  Twenty-Two

  I am an unfocused mess for the rest of the evening. At the dinner table, I ignore pretty much everyone. I’m so inside my head I keep staring off into space. The entire family is sitting at the table tonight, including Ash. Jake glares whenever Dad speaks to him, and I send Jake looks of my own, trying to kick him to make him knock it off, but I can’t reach across the table to make contact with his leg, damn it.

  There’s no need for him to be jealous of Ash. Jake will have his glory moments for the next two years as our varsity quarterback. He needs to relax.

  Mom keeps sending me strange looks and asks me twice if I’m feeling all right, and I tell her I’m just tired.

  Ash snickers under his breath, the jerk.

  Ava goes on and on about some girl in her class who let a boy touch her butt if he gave her some candy, and she’s beyond irritated. Ava is a bigger feminist than Mom and I put together, and we tell her to complain to the principal about it. But then she says she doesn’t want to be known as a snitch, so she isn’t sure what to do.

  Just another fun day at our high school.

  Every few minutes, I catch Ash watching me, his mouth curved into the faintest smile. I think he likes my annoying family, though I’m not sure how he can. When we’re all together, it’s always a little chaotic. Beck brought a Spider-Man action figure to the dinner table, and while he’s not as much into action figures as he once was, he’s feeling it tonight. Trying to feed Spidey dinner with his fork, or trying to get him to drink, or hooking the toy’s curved hands onto the edge of the salad bowl.

  Beck is also irritating the shit out of our mother, who keeps telling him to knock it off and put the toy away. Beck pouts, Mom eventually relents, and then it’s the same thing, again and again.

  Jake is sullen over football bullshit. Dad tells Ava to stay off her phone. Ash is keeping his conversation to a minimum, with the exception when Mom asks him about college.

  “I doubt I can get in to any colleges,” he tells her, wiping his mouth with a napkin. I’m staring at him like some sort of freak, and when he catches me, he offers up a quick wink in my direction. That should be cheesy, but my heart flutters.