The Cleaner

by Kiersten Modglin

  He sighed. “One night. It’s not a promise of anything else. Just one night, Reagan. Don’t go getting any ideas about us.”

  She leapt up, throwing her arms around his neck. He didn’t kiss her, though she desperately wanted him to. Instead, he touched her shoulder gently, a small worried smile on his face. He brushed a piece of hair from her eyes and stepped back. “Well, I should be going.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I have to get Gavin and Gia home. Mom will be worrying.”

  “Okay,” she said softly, feeling disappointed. He began to leave the room but stopped. Hope filled her for just a moment. “What color is your dress?”

  She paused. “Red. Why?”

  “I have to match, right? Those flowery things? A tie?”

  “Right. Do you want me to go with you?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Really?” She was taken by surprise at his quick answer.

  “Yeah.”

  “This weekend?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he said casually.

  “You aren’t just saying that, right? I don’t need you to lie to me just to get me to shut up. Don’t blow me off, Gunner.”

  He opened the door, stepping out into the hallway without a glance back her way. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Gunner pulled up to the old Cameron house less than half an hour later. Reagan had painted the old wood siding a bright yellow and the once black shutters were now baby blue. He smiled slightly, the sunshine she so effortlessly brought into every aspect of her life shone from the corner lot of this drab neighborhood. A large flower garden lit up the front yard.

  He walked up the paved path to the front door cautiously, his pulse racing. Everything in him screamed at him to turn around, but his feet kept moving. He had to know the truth. As he reached the wooden white door and rapped his knuckles on it, he cleared his throat, waiting.

  The door opened almost immediately and Reagan stood in front of him. Her blonde hair had been thrown up into a disheveled ponytail, she wore a blue robe, and her eyes were swollen and red—further proof of her suffering.

  She didn’t look surprised to see him and he wondered if Gemma had called to warn her. “What do you want, Gunner?”

  “I know I’m the last person you want to see right now.”

  She snorted. “You think?”

  “But we need to talk.”

  “We have nothing to talk about. You’re eight years too late for that.” She crossed her arms over her chest, the pain evident on her face.

  “Am I?” he asked, then when she didn’t answer, he went on. “You deserve answers.”

  “That’s an understatement.” She pressed her lips together, unmoving.

  “But, I deserve answers too, Reagan.” She flinched slightly as he said her name, her eyes faltering for just a second.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not the one who just...just disappeared out of nowhere.”

  “You aren’t innocent here. Not completely.”

  “What the hell are you saying, Gunner?”

  “I know about Nora.”

  She stepped toward him, shock filling her eyes. Her body filled the gap in between the door and its frame, making it impossible for him to see into the house. “Don’t you dare talk about her.”

  He held his hands up, hearing the tears in her shaking voice. “I don’t want to upset you, Rae. That’s not my intention. I just want to talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you. Eight years ago, seven, maybe even six...I dreamed that we’d be having this conversation. I dreamed you’d come here...that you’d come home to me. But not now. Not like this. I quit waiting for you a long time ago. And frankly, you being home is the last thing I need right now.”

  “I know this is a bad time. Hell, that’s an understatement too. I didn’t come back to complicate things for you. I wanted you to know I’m...I’m really sorry about Holly. She was a good kid.”

  “You didn’t know her,” she snapped.

  “Not like I know you, no, but enough. Enough to be sorry she’s gone. And to be sorry you’re hurting.”

  “You don’t know me, Gunner. I’m not the same little girl you used to know. And you never cared about my pain before, sure as hell not when you were the one causing it. Why start now?” she snarled at him, her voice rising in anger.

  “What? Like you never hurt me?” He stopped himself before he said too much. This wasn’t what he wanted and it wasn’t going to get them anywhere.

  “Screw you. Why don’t you just go back to wherever the hell you came from? You don’t belong here anymore. I don’t want you here.”

  He put his hand up to stop her as she moved to shut the door. “Wait. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

  “Why did you come here then?”

  “I wanted to see you,” he said honestly.

  “Well, I don’t want to see you.”

  He sighed. “Can you at least tell me about Nora?”

  “She’s with her grandparents.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “You didn’t want to hear about her before.”

  “That’s not true,” he argued. “You didn’t even try-”

  “You were gone,” she said through gritted teeth. “I tried to find you but you were just...gone. What was I supposed to do?”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice, Gunner. But, the thing is that I don’t care about your reasons anymore. I don’t. So, you can save whatever excuse you have. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “You owe me the truth about her,” he said, “no matter what your feelings are for me.”

  “What? What truth do you want? Are you asking if she’s yours?” she asked, her face firm.

  “Yes,” he confirmed. “Is she mine? Or is she his?”

  * * *

  When prom night finally arrived, Reagan stood in her living room, watching out the window for him to arrive. Holly walked past her, dressed in a pair of flannel pajamas that belonged to Reagan but she was too excited to scold her.

  “Lover boy here yet?” her father asked, walking into the room with a mug of coffee in his hand.

  She groaned. “Dad, please don’t be embarrassing.”

  “Oh, no. Please do.” Holly plopped on the couch as if this were to be her evening entertainment.

  “I’ll try my best,” Scott joked, patting Reagan’s hair.

  Reagan smoothed it over immediately, rushing to a mirror to make sure it wasn’t out of place. She heard his car, her heart lurching with excitement as she rushed to the window and peered out of the blinds. Confirming her hopes, she saw the headlights coming down her street. The car stopped in front of her house. She shut the blinds hurriedly, backing away as she heard his engine shut off and the car door being slammed shut.

  She paced in front of the door, her heart pounding, waiting for his knock. When it finally came, she counted to three silently so as not to seem overly anxious before opening it. She took a deep breath, looking him over. He stood in the threshold, a thin black suit hanging loosely over his frame. It needed to be tailored, but she wouldn’t dare mention it. A red tie was wrapped around his neck, the knot messy and unflattering but still she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. In the dark suit, his chestnut eyes seemed even more mysterious. He’d gotten a haircut to surprise her, his thick black hair now several inches shorter than it had been. He’d slicked the top part back, reminding her of a hairstyle from the fifties.

  Still staring at him, she realized in a breath how truly gorgeous he was. Tall, dark, and handsome, he literally took her breath away. Finally, he cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts. He reached a hand out past her to shake her father’s.

  “Mr. Orrick.”

  “Gunner,” her father greeted him warmly. Her mother rushed into the room, camera in hand.

  “Oh, you two look so beautiful,” she gushe
d, tears in her eyes.

  “Gemma—” Scott warned, smiling dotingly at his wife.

  She wiped a tear away. “My baby girl is going to prom. I’m allowed to be emotional,” she teased. “Did I miss the corsage?”

  Reagan panicked. Gunner hadn’t been able to buy her a corsage when they’d gone shopping for the tie. He claimed it was because he wanted to surprise her, but she’d seen him counting the money in his wallet when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

  “Oh, mom. I don’t need a—”

  He cut her off by reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out a small white box. He held it out to her, a red flower sitting on top of a lace band. “Do you like it?” he asked, hope in his eyes. She could tell it mattered to him.

  “It’s perfect,” she said, completely caught off guard. She allowed him to slide the corsage over her wrist as her mother snapped a few pictures.

  “All right, now get together,” Gemma instructed, taking a few more. Reagan hardly noticed her parents, her heart was beating a mile a minute, her face on fire as he slid his arm around her waist to pose for the last picture.

  Beside her, Holly held out the white faux fur jacket she’d laid on the couch earlier. Reagan took it, throwing it over her shoulders carefully.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling at her sister.

  “Now, you guys be careful,” her father warned. “And don’t stay out too late.”

  “And have fun,” her mother called, waving to them as they walked out the front door.

  Gunner visibly relaxed as they exited the house. He took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “You look nice,” he told her.

  “So do you,” she said honestly.

  When they got to the car, he opened her door for her, picking up the back of her dress and helping her place it into the car with care. She smiled at him happily.

  “Thank you.”

  He walked around the car, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting it up. “Last chance to change your mind,” he teased, glancing at her with a sly smile.

  She shook her head defiantly. “Not a chance, Mr. James.” She slid her hand back into his. His skin was warm on hers, his palms rough. He held her hand tight, not bothering to pull away until they drove into the school parking lot. The small lot was lined with limousines, their classmates flooding out of them.

  He pulled the car into the far corner and stuffed a pack of cigarettes into the inside pocket of his jacket before getting out.

  “What, no flask?” she joked. His eyes went dark, his face stern and she realized her mistake instantly. The joke wasn’t funny to the son of the town drunk.

  “No,” he said after a moment,“no flask.”

  She wanted to apologize but worried it would only make things more awkward so she remained silent as he walked around to help her out of the car. She ignored the strange looks she got as they walked into the school. People were surprised to see her with him. She had expected it, though it didn’t make it any easier or less annoying.

  She put her arm through his, trying to show him how little she cared about the opinions of others. She knew what the issue was—the one they all, Gunner included, seemed to be fixated on: they weren’t alike. She was light where Gunner was dark; the bad boy and the princess. They couldn’t be more opposite and yet she had never felt more comfortable than there in his arms. Rules and opinions be damned, she was falling for Gunner, and if she had her way...she’d make sure he fell for her too.

  They walked into the gymnasium, the room illuminated by pink lanterns. She stared around, several eyes on them. Quickly, Gunner pulled her into a dark corner.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Wait here. I’ll go get us something to drink.”

  She nodded, taking a seat on the bleachers to wait for him. He was gone only a moment or two and when he returned, he held two clear cups in his hands. She took one graciously, downing the punch in two gulps. She hadn’t realized how dry her throat had been until that moment.

  Gunner pulled his cup from his lips, sitting down beside her and smiling. “Do you need more?” He offered his up. It was the most intimate she’d ever felt: sitting in the dark gymnasium, sharing a glass of tasteless punch. She took a sip from the cup, handing it back. He drank the rest, crushing the clear plastic easily and tossing it into a nearby garbage can.

  “I’m glad we came,” she told him.

  He leaned forward to face her, brushing a stray piece of hair from her eyes. “Don’t say that until the night’s over.”

  She silenced him by leaning her head onto his shoulder. “I’m serious,” she assured him. “I’m glad we’re here. Thank you for agreeing to come with me.”

  He surprised her by laying his head over onto hers. “Do you want to dance?” She heard the question, though she was in utter shock.

  She pulled back, looking up at him. “Seriously?” She looked at the empty dance floor with apprehension. “You’ll dance with me?”

  He smirked, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, look, I’m not promising a waltz or anything, but I can stand awkwardly and move in a circle with the best of ‘em.”

  She stared at the boy who was still such a mystery to her in awe. “I’d like that a lot.”

  Without another word, he stood up, taking her hand in his and pulling her to the dance floor. She followed him dreamily, forgetting about everyone else in the room. He stopped in the middle of the gym floor, his eyes locked on hers as he placed his hands around her waist carefully. Unlike the dance partners, though limited, she’d had before, Gunner didn’t stare off awkwardly avoiding her eyes. Instead, his gaze stayed focused on her confidently as they began to sway.

  She smiled at him. “Regretting your decision yet?”

  He shook his head. “Worrying you’ll be regretting yours soon.”

  “You really think I’d rather be here with,” she paused, glancing around and nodding her head in the general direction of a group of jocks, “one of them?”

  He looked their way and then back at her. “I think you’re supposed to be here with one of them.”

  “When are you going to realize I couldn’t care less what I’m supposed to do?”

  He sighed, his face wavering as he stared at her. His eyes darted back and forth between hers. Kiss me, she begged silently.

  “Have you guys gotten a chance to vote for prom King and Queen yet?” a small voice asked from behind her. Reagan turned around, ending their dance. Dana Hively held up a small clipboard, a giant smile on her face. “Wow,” she said, ignoring Reagan. “Gunner, you look great.” She looked him up and down as if he were a piece of meat.

  He held out his hand for the clipboard. “Don’t worry, Dana. You know I’m voting for you,” he said, laughter in his voice. “You don’t have to flatter me.”

  “I would really appreciate it,” she said, pretending to be shocked.

  Suddenly, Reagan remembered the night at the party when she’d caught Dana and Gunner in the bedroom together and her belly filled with unsubstantiated jealousy. He held out the clipboard for Reagan to vote, and she did so begrudgingly. She handed the ballot back, her hands shaking and waited for the girl to walk away.

  Once she was gone, she turned back to face Gunner, her arms around his neck once more. She tried to push the anger from her mind.

  “You weren’t on the ballot?” she asked.

  “Are you surprised?”

  She shook her head.

  “I wasn’t planning on being here tonight. I spend all my time avoiding this place, remember?”

  She laughed half-heartedly. “How could I forget?”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, reading her expression.

  “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, right. Did I do something?”

  “No,” she assured him. “I just...it’s stupid. I recognized her from that night. The party. You two were…” she trailed off, unable to say it. The image had been burned into her mind. “I kno
w I have no right to be...whatever I am, but it caught me by surprise.”

  His worry changed to a cocky grin instantly. “You’re jealous?”

  “Don’t tease,” she warned.

  “I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “What day?”

  “The day that Reagan Orrick was jealous of anyone.”

  “Don’t do that.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t say my name like that. Like it’s a title or something. Of course I’m jealous. Because she’s gorgeous and you’ve slept with her. And I had to witness it.”

  He rubbed a finger over her cheek. “You’re gorgeous, Rae. You don’t have to worry about Dana. Besides, I’m sure there are a few guys in this room I should be jealous of.”

  She bit her lip, shaking her head slightly. His eyes grew wide as the song changed to something more upbeat. Around them, the floor began to fill with people and yet they stood still, staring at each other in shock. After a moment of processing, he pulled her off the dance floor, back to the solace of their corner.

  “No?” he asked over the music.

  “No,” she said.

  “No one here?”

  “No one period.” She blushed.

  “Holy shit.” He ran a hand over his jaw, looking away from her. He shook his head. “Please tell me you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

  “Are you asking?”

  He looked back, his stare burning into her as his expression changed slightly. “You aren’t serious.”

  “Of course I am. I mean, I’ve done...things, just not everything.” She suddenly felt embarrassed by the virtue she’d always taken such pride in.

  “Okay,” he said simply, shoving a hand into his pocket. “I need to go outside for a minute and get some air. Do you want to come with me or stay here?” His facial muscles were strangely tight.

  She glanced around. “I don’t think we’re allowed to leave.” She pointed to the chaperoned doors.

  He smirked. “You underestimate me, princess.”

  She took his outstretched hand without thought. “Lead the way.”