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The Opposite of Innocent

Page 1

by Sonya Sones




  Dedication

  For all the Lilys . . .

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  The Friend of the Family

  It’s Been Two Endless Years

  When Luke Left

  I’ve Tried On Everything in My Closet

  Then Mom’s Shouting

  Driving to the Airport

  Not That I’m a Particularly Sad Person

  Suddenly

  In Baggage Claim

  Then—There He Is

  And Then

  Luke Slings His Luggage into the Trunk

  Luke Will Be Sleeping in the Guest Room

  Dinner

  I’m Imagining Him Standing Up

  It’s August

  Luke Says It’s Time for Presents

  Luke’s Always Given Alice and Me

  It’s After Midnight

  My Parents Have to Work

  At the Cineplex

  Because the Truth Is

  Alice Lobbied Hard for Bowling

  But When We’re with Dad

  Because I Do Love Him

  And I’m Pretty Sure He Doesn’t Regret It

  Luke’s Been My Dad’s Best Friend Forever

  If You’ve Just Done the Math in Your Head

  For Example:

  When I Was Seven

  When I Was Ten

  He Was Sort of Like a Character from a Novel

  And Books Aren’t All We Have in Common

  This Morning

  The Next Day, It’s Pouring Out

  But, of Course, She Does

  He Holds Out Both Hands to Help Me Up

  I’ve Been Wearing Luke’s Necklace 24/7

  I Mean, Like I Literally Bump Right into Him

  I Close the Door Behind Me

  But I’m an Idiot

  Now I Know

  I Just Googled It

  Sometimes

  It’s Saturday

  I Don’t Want to Eavesdrop on Dad and Luke

  My Phone Buzzes in My Pocket

  Saturday Night

  What Is It About Being Alone in a Car?

  Suddenly Luke’s Laughing

  As We Turn Left onto Kingsley

  As We Turn onto Rose’s Street

  When We Pull Up in Front of Rose’s House

  Then I Thank Him for the Ride

  I Ring the Bell

  So She Tells Us

  Taylor Laughs

  But When We Ask Him About Going All the Way

  When We Finally Stop Laughing

  I’m Trying to Fall Asleep

  The Next Morning

  At the Beach

  And Then Alice Is Tugging Us Toward the Water

  Now the Air Feels Icier Than the Water

  In Fact

  We Watch the Waves Rolling In and In and In

  Whoa . . .

  Then Suddenly—It’s Over

  But

  I’m Lying Here in Bed

  The Next Day Is Labor Day

  He Opens the Cellar Door

  When We Get to the Bottom Step

  Each Time

  Then Uncle Mike and Aunt Pat Arrive

  I’m Lying in Bed

  The First Day of High School

  But Then I Walk into French Class

  In Creative Writing Class

  I’m Plowing Through the Multitudes

  At Lunch with the Triatomics in the Quad

  Photography Class

  In Chemistry

  After School

  I Tug Open the Heavy Oak Door

  Bella Goes Behind the Cash Register

  When the Guy

  You’d Think Rose Would Realize

  Finally

  But Then My Phone Rings

  As We Circle Around and Around

  A Few Minutes Later

  But Then

  They Are My Flowers

  It’s the Middle of the Night

  But I Don’t Turn It

  In Creative Writing

  Photography Class

  In Madame Melvoin’s Class

  I Hop into Luke’s Car

  But Then I Realize

  On Thursday After School

  Thursday Night

  Friday After School

  I Didn’t Realize Luke Overheard Me Yesterday

  It’s So Strange

  And Then, to Make Matters Worse—

  On Saturday Morning

  He Gathers Me into His Arms

  Then We Hear a Car

  Geometry’s Usually So Easy for Me

  Then—Wham!

  After the Animals Take Their Final Bows

  Because It Just Dawned on Me

  What I Pack in My Overnight Bag:

  When Mom Drops Me Off at Rose’s

  The Question Hangs in the Air Like Smoke

  I Feel Like Screaming at Them

  I Wait Just Long Enough

  I Don’t Want to Be Here

  It’s Exhausting

  In the Morning

  Then

  But By the Time We Get There

  Before We Leave

  I Text Mom to Tell Her I’m Sick

  Alice Leaps Up

  When Your Mother

  After a Nap, I’m Feeling a Little Better

  When I Wake Up on Monday

  He Nuzzles the Nape of my Neck

  When Luke Said

  Luke Steers Me Toward the Living Room

  As We Cross the Room

  Then Somehow—We’re There

  He Looks into My Eyes

  But All of a Sudden

  His Crotch!

  And That’s When I Remember

  I Try to Pull Away

  But

  His Words Burn

  He Moans

  He Sighs

  The Next Morning in Photography

  But Then

  At Lunch with the Triatomics

  Luke Isn’t Able to Get Me Alone Again

  Love Is Strange

  Not to Mention Confusing

  On Sunday

  Which Luke Thinks Isn’t Nearly Often Enough

  Now That the Mall Is Closed

  In Photography

  As Soon as We Get Outside

  And When the Bell Rings

  Saturday Morning

  Saturday Afternoon

  A Few Seconds Later

  Luke Grins at Us

  Rose Swings Open Her Door

  Then Rose Gets a Text and Almost Faints

  Rose’s Brother Drives Us Over

  And Pretty Soon

  Sunday Morning

  Rose Gets Some Toast and Advil into Me

  How He Treats Me Now

  How That Makes Me Feel

  Every Single Night

  And School Is No Better

  And Presley’s Been a Problem Too

  Then

  The Next Day, He’s Waiting for Me After School

  He Drives Us Over to the Research Library

  He’s Kissing Me

  When We Finally Come Up for Air

  When It’s Over

  I Shudder and Bite My Lower Lip

  I’m Sitting Here in Chemistry

  At Lunch

  A Few Days Later

  He Presses My Hand Down onto Him

  On the Way Home

  On Saturday, I Go to a Sleepover

  The Next Morning

  At Lunch with the Triatomics

  At Our Third “Tutoring” Session

  Luke Pulls Me onto His Lap

  It’s Hard to Come Up with a Costume

  Before the Dance

  Rose’s Brother Drops Us Off at School

  After a Half Hour

  I Glance Back Over My Shoulder

&nb
sp; Here We Are

  As the Song Nears Its Finish

  The Second the Music Stops

  We’re Driving Through the Dark Streets

  My Blood Freezes

  Twenty Minutes Later

  A Shudder Runs Through Me

  My Heart Flings Itself Against My Ribs

  He Unties the Bow at the Neck of My Cape

  And That’s When I Notice

  Luke Pours Two Glasses of Champagne

  I’m Feeling So Light-Headed Now

  My Eyes Pop Open

  He Starts Fumbling with His Fly

  And That’s When

  “Nooooo!”

  And Then—

  He’s Telling Me He’s Sorry

  That’s All He’s Ever Cared About

  And When Both of Us

  He Pauses Then

  Luke Stares at Me Like He Can’t Believe His Ears

  His Words

  How Could I Ever Have Loved This Man?

  Then

  When We Get Home

  I Force a Smile onto My Face

  Later

  And Then

  And I Can’t Tell Mom Either

  If Only

  What I Should Have Done:

  I’ve Been Trying to Sleep for Hours

  On Sunday

  Later

  At School the Next Morning

  In Creative Writing

  In French Class

  And Lunch Isn’t Any Easier

  So

  In Geometry

  In Photography

  Homework Assignment: Self-Portrait

  On Wednesday After School

  That Night

  Now

  At School

  Especially Not with My Parents

  My Mother Hugs Me

  Later That Night

  I Wade Through the Next Week and a Half

  The Day Before Thanksgiving Break

  And Run Right into Presley

  Thanksgiving Dinner

  I’ve Been Avoiding Taylor and Rose

  But When Rose’s Brother Drops Us Off

  After That

  But in the Morning

  When I Walk into the House

  And When Luke

  I Back Away

  My Feet Fly Over the Pavement

  My Churning Thoughts

  Suddenly

  But

  I Peer Through the Window

  Bella Looks Up

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Sonya Sones

  Back Ad

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  The Friend of the Family

  I’ve always been in love

  with Luke.

  For as far back

  as I can remember.

  I used to climb into his lap,

  throw my arms around his neck,

  and tell him I was gonna marry him

  when I grew up.

  And Luke would smile down at me

  and say,

  “I’ll wait for you, Lily.

  I promise.”

  It’s Been Two Endless Years

  Since he left for Kenya.

  But today—

  he’s finally coming back.

  When Luke left,

  I was flat as an ironing board.

  Now I’m more like an ironing board with boobs.

  When Luke left, I had a billion zits.

  Now I’ve only got a million.

  Plus, I’ve mastered the magic of makeup.

  When Luke left, my mouth was so full of braces

  it felt like my teeth were wrapped

  in barbed wire.

  Yesterday I got them off.

  Now my teeth feel smoother

  than my iPhone screen.

  I can’t stop running my tongue over them.

  I’ve been smiling so much my cheeks hurt.

  And everyone’s been smiling back.

  When Luke Left

  I felt like

  a caterpillar.

  Like

  this blobby

  thing

  waiting to happen.

  Now

  I feel more like a butterfly—

  a butterfly who can’t decide

  which wings to wear.

  I’ve Tried On Everything in My Closet

  Twice.

  I’ve rifled through all my drawers.

  I’ve even braved the spidery depths

  beneath my bed.

  But it’s no use—it’s all too old

  or tight or loose, or just plain ugly.

  I text Taylor and Rose for emergency

  wardrobe advice, but they don’t text back.

  Then I hear my little sister Alice

  clomping down the stairs in my shoes.

  She’s always playing dress-up with my stuff

  and “forgetting” to return it.

  I dash down the hall and dig through her drawers

  till I find my clingy pink top—the one that’s been

  missing so long I figured I’d left it at Rose’s

  after one of our sleepovers.

  I race back to my room to put it on.

  I shimmy into my favorite jeans,

  swipe on some Kiss Me Quick lip gloss,

  and pause to study myself in the mirror.

  How will I look to Luke?

  Will he notice how much I’ve changed?

  Have I changed as much

  as I think I have?

  Then Mom’s Shouting

  She’s saying we have to leave right now

  or we won’t be there when Luke’s plane lands.

  But I haven’t started on my hair yet . . .

  I’m not even close to ready!

  I rake my fingers through my crazed curls,

  then heave a sigh.

  Oh, who am I kidding?

  I’ll never be ready.

  “Lily,” Mom shouts. “I’m counting to ten.

  One . . . two . . . three . . .”

  “Wow,” I shout back.

  “You’re so good at that.”

  I grab the point-and-shoot camera

  Luke gave me on my eighth birthday,

  flip open the jewelry box

  he gave me on my tenth,

  and search for the gold earrings

  he gave me on my twelfth,

  just before he went to Kenya.

  I slip them on and dash down the stairs.

  Dad’s standing by the door, sending a text.

  I ask him how I look.

  He says, “Great . . .” without even glancing up.

  It sucks. But I’m used to it.

  Driving to the Airport

  Mom’s sitting next to Dad

  and I’m in back with Alice,

  beating my curls into submission.

  Alice is squirmier than a puppy,

  chanting, “We’re gonna see Luke!

  We’re gonna see Luke!”

  Which would probably

  be totally annoying

  if she were some other little kid.

  But she’s Alice.

  And those pink cheeks of hers,

  that halo of golden curls—

  well, it’s sort of like having

  an actual angel for a sister.

  And it’s not just her looks.

  I swear to God, the kid’s got a sixth sense.

  She’s only six, but she always knows if I’m sad.

  Even when I’m trying to hide it.

  And once she decides I need some cheering up,

  she’ll cross her eyes till she’s half-blind

  if she thinks it’ll help.

  Not That I’m a Particularly Sad Person

  I’m basically pretty upbeat.

  Mom says I was born that way.

  She claims I popped out of her womb,

  and instead of crying, I said,

  “Whoa! That was am
azing!”

  Though when Luke left,

  I felt like I’d lost a limb or something.

  He was so deep in the rain forest,

  searching for a cure for malaria,

  we couldn’t even text or talk on the phone.

  I missed the sound of his voice.

  That beautiful English accent of his . . .

  Mom was too sad to even notice how sad I was.

  And as usual, Dad worked late most nights,

  or just sat in front of the TV watching sports.

  But Alice

  never left my side—

  putting on “ballet recitals” for me,

  prancing around in her tutu nonstop,

  doing her best to distract me.

  And whenever I got a little weepy,

  she’d pop my camera into my hands,

  telling me she needed a new head shot.

  And as soon as I started snapping away,

  I’d begin to feel better.

  Suddenly

  Alice spots the first sign for the airport

  and ramps up her chanting:

  “Luke! Luke! Luke! Luke! Luke!”

  Now it is totally annoying.

  I can’t go on like this much longer.

  I yank my camera out of my pocket.

  It’s pretty beat up,

  but it still works fine.

  And it makes me feel more like . . .

  Well, more like a serious artist, I guess,

  than when I just use

  my cell phone camera.

  I focus my lens on Alice and say,

  “Stop chanting. I wanna get a picture of you

  without your mouth open.”

  “You’re not the boss of me,” she says.

  But then she flashes her most angelic smile.

  The kid could win a cuteness contest. Seriously.

  It was Alice who got me into photography.

  She was such an adorable baby, I just had

  to take her picture. Pretty much all the time.

  And then I started taking pictures of everything else.

  In Baggage Claim

  My heart’s thumping like crazy

  as I stare down the long hallway,

  trying to spot Luke in the crowd.

  I feel like maybe I’m gonna swoon—

  like I’m the heroine of one of those

  love stories I’m always reading.

  And as I wait for my first glimpse of him,

  my whole life seems

  to hold

  its breath . . .

  Then—There He Is

  Waving at us and smiling,

  looking tan and sort of lumberjack-ish.

  And even more beautiful

  than I remember.

  I snap a photo,

  to try to capture it.

  Then Alice is slipping her hand into mine,

  whispering, “He’s home.”

  And Luke’s rushing over,

  pulling my parents into a hug.

 

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