by Kylie Scott
I winced. "I'm not sure I needed to know that. And actually, it sounds painful."
"Right?" He leaned in closer. "Between you and me, I think it's his Fabio hair."
"Fabio?" I asked.
"You don't know Fabio? Edie, friend, Fabio's an important and glorious part of American romance fiction history. My mom told me so."
"I'll look him up."
"You do that."
"What's going on with John?" I pushed, concerned.
"Good question." He chewed on the end of his pen, giving me a speculative look. "Going to the party this weekend?"
"What party? Sabrina's?" I seemed to recall that was the name of the girl who'd left the invite under my windshield wiper.
"Yep."
I frowned. "I hadn't been planning on it. I'm not really very social."
"No." Mouth hanging open in exaggerated surprise, Anders started slipping off his chair, catching himself only at the last second. "I cannot believe that. You seem so friendly and outgoing."
Smartass. "I do dazzle most people, it's true. Can we please talk about John?"
He just blinked. "Come to the party."
"Me? Why?"
"Is it not enough that I said to?"
And I contemplated that for all of a second. "No."
"Actually, I can respect that." He picked at his teeth with a fingernail. "What else are you going to do in this town on a Saturday night, hmm?"
Sit alone in my room, read a book, and eat a packet of Oreos. Pretty much exactly in that order. And it sounded like heaven. One of the true benefits of being an only child: no needing to share the snacks. But still, I was worried about John. And getting information out of this nut was difficult.
"Come to the party and bring your other friends," he said. "Ones that are girls, okay?"
I frowned. It's not like I usually got invited to a lot of things; maybe I should make an effort to be more social and fit in. I wondered if Hang and co would be up for it. On the other hand, a party. Ugh. Lots of people gathered in one place with social expectations, etcetera. "I don't know. Will John be there?"
"Anders," the teacher snapped. Guess she'd gotten tired of playing with her phone. "Be quiet."
Lips mashed together in frustration, he frowned.
We didn't talk again. At the end of the hour I strode out into the parking lot, a cool breeze blowing across my face. Everything shone gold in the afternoon light. I slipped on my black sunglasses, then began the twice-daily routine of searching for my car keys. One of these days I'd sort out the crap in my bag.
"Hey! Edie, wait." Anders loped across the pavement toward me on his long legs. No wonder the boy played sports. "Can you give me a lift?"
"To where?"
"Pipe over by Old Cemetery Road." He ran a hand over his shaved head. "JC didn't wait for me, the bastard, and my cell's dead. Can we go through In-and-Out Burger on the way?"
"That's not even remotely on the way. And why do you want to go to the old cemetery?"
"I don't, dummy," he said. "I want to go to the pipe near the old cemetery."
And that meant nothing to me.
"A skateboarding half-pipe. Oh, come on. John will be there . . ."
I gave him my very best nonchalant one-shoulder shrug. Even I could feel its inherent fakery.
"Please?"
"Fine." I unlocked the driver's-side door and slid inside, the air stale. When I let him in, Anders surveyed the wreckage of my vehicle's interior with curiosity. I wished he wouldn't. Empty water bottles rolled around on the floor, along with a scrunched-up Starbucks bag and a stick of deodorant. Hair ties in a variety of colors decorated the gear stick while a couple of items of clothing covered the backseat. Mental note: Clean car sometime.
He did the one-eyebrow-lift thing again. Show-off.
"I take it your car is spotless, wherever it is?"
"Actually, a sad thing happened to my car and my folks won't get me another. That's why JC gives me lifts."
"A sad thing?"
"I don't like to talk about it." He scratched at his chin. "But I kind of drove it off road and down a hill, and I guess some sedans just aren't meant for that."
"I guess not."
"Hmm. Chicks." Anders sighed, back to cataloguing the mess. "So much stuff, so high maintenance. Is it any wonder I don't want to settle down?"
"I'm not high maintenance." Girls like Kara were high maintenance. My small amount of stuff couldn't even begin to compare to her gross displays of materialism. "You know nothing."
The idiot was laughing so hard he clutched at his stomach.
"You want to walk?" I snapped.
Immediately his face sobered. "No, ma'am."
"Tell me what's going on with John. What do you mean by 'a fucky mood,' exactly?"
"Hmm, I don't know." He bit at a nail. "Feels kind of disloyal to be talking about him behind his back now. Anyway, you'll see for yourself."
Frustration had me revving up the engine and pulling out of the school parking lot, tires squealing just a little. Go, me. Happily, Anders kept his mouth shut for a while. If he wasn't going to give me any useful information, then that was for the best. And here I was, reduced to giving veritable strangers rides just to see John again. Despite his superior status in the school echelons due to dealing, and his general attractiveness, the thought of us ignoring each other no longer appealed to me, if it ever really had. His fault. How could I not be curious after he appeared at my bedroom window in the middle of the night?
On the edge of town past the old cemetery was a park. Obviously neglected if the knee-high grass, scattered trash, and abundance of wildflowers were any indication. Graffiti in every color of the rainbow covered the wooden kids' play castle and swings.
"What is this place?" I asked, pulling the car in beside a couple of others.
"Some city benefactors' first attempt at a skate park. Problem is, it's so far out, you pretty much need a car to get here," he said. "Kind of defeats the purpose for most people."
"Yeah."
"Guess they didn't want us young hooligans hanging around, messing up the place where the good citizens could see."
"How'd that work out for them?"
He chuckled. "For them, not so good. They had to eventually build the one in town. For us, though, fucking fantastic. Come and see."
I locked the car, then followed him down a well-trodden dirt path. People were gathered by the skate ramps, some watching, waiting their turn. Others were throwing back energy drinks and sucking on cigarettes. Music blared, almost obscuring the sound of a set of wheels thundering across the pavement. I pushed my sunglasses on top of my head. Only one person flew up and down the sides of the pipe, his body and board moving and looking like a dream.
John Cole dressed in only faded black jeans and Converse dazzled my eyes. Add in the hardness of his chest, shoulders, and arms, glistening with sweat courtesy of the late-afternoon sun, and I was on the verge of writing him bad poetry.
Cool girls clapped and called out to him from nearby. One of them noticed me watching and sneered as if he was her property and she was marking her territory. Sadly for her, dirty looks didn't do much. Peeing might have worked out better. No one wants urine stains on their Docs.
"Hey," said John, pulling up at the top of the low ramp we were standing on. One foot stayed on the board, rolling it back and forth. "What're you doing here?"
"She gave me a lift. I invited her to come visit." Anders passed him a bottle of water with a grin. "I spat in that, by the way."
John drank without pause while I gave Anders a dubious look.
"Just joking," he cried, holding up his hands. "I met my new friend Edie here in detention."
"Detention, huh?"
"Yeah." I stuffed my hands in my skirt pockets.
"You shouldn't have brought her out here," he said to his buddy.
"Why not? You know her." Anders rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "She's a friend, right?"
Joh
n said nothing.
"But, yeah. Anyway," babbled Anders, "nice day we're having."
John's jaw had locked with tension.
"Okay. Sensing a mood coming on. I'm going to leave you two to talk." Without another word, Anders wandered off to chat with the other people hanging out.
I took a deep breath. "We could definitely talk."
His brow descended.
"I mean, if you wanted to talk about anything, that would be fine. With me."
"No," said John without hesitation. "Everything's fine. What'd he say to you?"
"Nothing that made much sense." I tilted my head. "You sure you don't want to talk?"
"Yep."
Incredibly awkward silence.
"Sorry," he finally said. "It's good to see you."
My whole body eased, relieved. "You too."
John nodded, giving me a repressed half-smile. It consisted of wrinkled lips more than anything, and God help me, even that was attractive. In the light of day, his eyes were clear blue with brown flecks, his skin tanned, apart from the bandage on his arm. He was beautiful and I . . . I was nothing. An out-of-her-depth girl who wore too much black and feared the bulk of society. Yay, me.
"I'd better go," I said, taking a step back.
"I'll walk you to your car," said John, flipping his board up to his hand, and falling into step at my side.
"You don't have to do that."
He didn't respond.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye. My brain on high alert and my hormones and dreams on overload. Not once in my entire life had I ever been so curious about someone. What went on in his head, what was his life like? John Cole made for an enthralling mystery. I just hoped he'd been telling the truth and he was in fact okay. He did the stoic thing so well. It made it hard to judge.
Bees and other assorted bugs flitted around, the music fading as nature took over. It was nice out here, despite the cigarette stubs and occasional beer bottles hiding in the long grass. Summer had a smell, but so did he. I don't think I'd ever wanted to rub my face in someone's sweaty chest before.
Talk about unnerving. People shouldn't walk around half-naked unless they were at a pool or lake or something. Nipple viewing should really be reserved for special occasions. Christmas, birthdays, bar mitzvahs, stuff like that. Also, with every step he took, the waistband of his jeans slid a little across his lean hips. Not saying I was drooling exactly, but close.
Maybe I should attempt some self-love when I got home. The feeling building inside of me, this hyperawareness of him physically, mentally, and generally every way, had me growing increasingly agitated. Edgy. I don't know what.
"You okay?" he asked, frowning.
"Yes. Why?"
"Just had a weird look on your face."
Shit. "Ah, I was thinking about homework."
He tipped his chin. "How you doing with school?"
"Fine. Good. And you?"
A nod.
"Is your arm still hurting?" I nodded at the bandage.
"Came off my board the other week and opened it up again. It's fine though."
"Ouch." I flinched. "So, I take it Anders is one of the friends you kept when you stopped dealing?"
"Yeah."
"He's different," I said.
"That's one way to put it." John sort of smiled. "He doesn't care if I can score shit for him or not. A lot of the others, that's all they really wanted."
"Idiots." I scowled, angry on his behalf.
A shrug. "You settling in at school okay?"
"Sure. Everything's fine."
"Good," he said. "Thanks for giving him a lift out here. He would have blown up my phone otherwise."
"No worries."
Awkward silence.
"Anders was rattling on about some party on Friday night," I said, fiddling with the end of my braid. "Were you going?"
"Dunno. Haven't really thought about it yet."
I jingled my keys. "Some girl called Sabrina left a note on my car about it. Guess she's probably trying to sweet-talk you through me, like you warned about."
Brows knitted, he pushed back his hair. "Bree's not so bad. You should go if you want. Might be fun."
Bree, not Sabrina. Hmm. "This is me."
Without comment, he looked over my sedate white hatchback. Unlike his beast of a vehicle, it wouldn't be causing fear on the streets anytime soon. My car unlocked with a beep.
"See you at school," I said, getting behind the wheel.
"Yeah." He leaned in, resting an elbow on the open driver's-side door. "You gonna be okay with the gun lobby and everything?"
I winced, slipping sunglasses over my eyes--all the better to hide. "People have been calling me Holden."
"You were pretty spectacular."
"Ha, well," I drawled, going heavy on the sarcasm. "I live to impress. Who even wants to be boring and fit in when you can act like a complete head case in front of the entire class, right?"
"They'll forget about it." Pushing my door shut, he gave me a sly smile. "Eventually."
"Great."
"Seriously, don't worry," he said. "By this time tomorrow Anders will have done something so stupid no one will even look at you twice."
"Promise?"
He shrugged a shoulder. "I can pay him if I have to."
I laughed and he grinned, everything nice and friendly and infinitely better. This was what my days needed, more John Cole. (Insert happy sigh here.) Just as well my sunglasses hid the dreamy look in my eyes.
He gazed down at me, the tempting curl of his lips easing slowly. "Don't worry about it, okay?"
"Okay."
Neither of us said a word. It seemed like forever before he looked away, rapping his knuckles once on the roof of my car.
"Later," he said.
"Wait," I blurted, grabbing his arm. Oh his sun-warmed skin, it felt so very good. I instantly ordered my hand to let go. "Give me your phone. Let me give you my number. Just in case sometime in the future you feel like doing the dreaded talking thing."
His face set in stubborn lines.
"I get it. Really. You don't want to talk about the Drop Stop, you just want to put it behind you," I said, stomach turning queasily at the mere mention of the place. "But you know what, I get it. We were both there. Sometime, speaking about it might help. Who knows?"
For a long time, he just looked at me.
"This isn't some pathetic attempt to get your number, by the way."
He snorted. "I know that."
"Well?"
Another long look. "I don't have my cell on me. Give me yours."
Moving much faster than I'd have ever thought possible, I grabbed it out of my schoolbag, unlocked it, and shoved it at him. He carefully wiped off his hand on his pants leg before putting in the info. Then he handed it back. "There you go."
"Thanks." I tried to keep my smile within acceptable non-triumphant limits. And failed.
"'Bye."
"R-right." I could have drifted in his dreamy gaze for days. Instead, I blinked, returning to reality. "'Bye."
He took a step back, watching me not so carefully reverse. For a very specific reason, it was hard to concentrate. My line of sight kept returning to him, and it took a concerted effort to keep my eyes on the road.
God, the way my heart kept bashing around inside my chest. It couldn't be good. Best if I went back to my room and tried to read a book, maybe listened to some music. Find my inner calm if it even existed these days.
Dust filled the air, stirred up by my tires. I watched him in the rearview mirror until he disappeared.
In all likelihood, he'd been looking at me counting his lucky stars yet again that the gun at the Drop Stop had been empty by the time I grabbed it. Or maybe he was just curious about me, the way I was about him. We had been through some crazy shit together. Still, stupid of me to become so angsty over someone so hot. Everything about the Drop Stop needed to get out of my head, and that included John. All we had in common was a nig
ht of blood and violence. End of story. Sanity decreed we should never want to cross paths again even despite the rules of high school hierarchy. The cool, the beautiful, and me didn't mix. Egos and bullshit always got in the way. I had to forget about him before I got my delicate little feelings hurt.
No way would I go to Sabrina's soiree. If Anders hadn't gone on at me about it, the stupid thing wouldn't have even crossed my mind. All of those people standing around getting loaded, judging each other's taste in everything, while gossiping about who might be hooking up with whom.
Nope, not for me.
"Thanks for inviting us along to the party."
"No problem." I forced a smile for Hang, sitting beside me on a low section of the garden wall. "Glad you could come."
Turned out Sabrina had a pool. The place was bikini city. Loud music filled the night air and people spilled out of the sprawling ranch-style house down the steps onto the wide back patio. Of course, there was also a keg and plenty of red Solo cups to go around. Stars twinkled overhead and the shadows of trees swayed in the wind.
"They're together?" I asked.
"Hmm?" Hang turned away from the pool, checking out the dance-floor area where Carrie and Sophia were kissing while moving to the music. "Yeah. You didn't know?"
"No."
Her gaze darkened. "I hope that's not a problem."
"No, of course not. That's great that they're happy," I said. "I just wish someone would get together with me."
"Right? Me too."
We both grinned. Before coming to the party, all four of us had gone to dinner at Old Town Pizza. There'd been no shortage of things to talk about. But Hang and I had the most in common. She too had a thing for Harry Potter and read fiction books outside of school time. Plus, she was calm, easygoing. And no matter who approached me about John, she hadn't mentioned him or the Drop Stop to me again. I appreciated that. Apart from avoiding that subject, whatever thought ran through her head came straight out of her mouth and I loved that. Why she put up with my moody ass I have no idea, but I hoped it got her some karma points.
Yet while Hang seemed like good people, I couldn't bring myself to trust anyone fully. Not after Georgia. My stories and secrets stayed safe inside my head.
We stuck to the edges of the party, watching. So far I'd seen no sign of John or Anders. Not that I was obsessively looking or anything. Mostly I just sat there sweating, worrying about everything and trying not to let it show. Appearances mattered. I'd almost died; therefore, attending a cool kid's party couldn't possibly be much worse. And sure, this was better than hanging at home on my own. Maybe. I don't know; I was trying to keep an open mind.
