by G. Benson
“You didn’t have to.” Her eyes closed, and her head fell back against the headrest, even as Ollie kept smirking. “I can feel you watching me.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
Ollie’s snort said it all.
Chapter 18
Books were strewn over Ollie’s bedroom carpet, papers littered among them all. The bright colors of empty potato chip packages and cookie boxes broke up the blandness of it all. Sara was writing complex equations on Ollie’s bed. Ollie had caught a glimpse of them at one point and gone cross-eyed at the sight. Every now and again, Sara snapped her gum before going back to mindlessly chewing it. Deon was sprawled on the floor, notes piled high next to him, blurry-eyed. Finals were approaching, and the stress of it was a constant fizz in their blood.
The history book on Ollie’s lap was starting to blur, dates melding until she had no idea what she’d just read. The monotony of reading clawing at her skull, she pulled out a stack of index cards and started making her own set of flash cards.
“You’re procrastinating.” Sara didn’t even look up from her book.
“Am not.”
“You’re making flash cards, and you’re going to spend a good few hours decorating them.”
Ollie looked at the boat she was drawing, details down to the carving in the rail. It would be a visual aid to help her remember which boat and which date. “What? It helps.”
Sara snorted. “And you get to doodle.”
Ollie traced the sail with her pen. “Yup.” They always teased her but then asked to borrow the cards later, a fact Ollie would forever remind them of.
Later, Ollie heard the front door open and close and didn’t feel her entire body tense like it used to. She and her father moved around each other more fluidly now. The hole her mother had left wasn’t gone, but it had shifted, almost as if it were just out of their way so they didn’t trip and fall into it or accidentally push each other down it with their bitterness.
Her father knocked at the door and waited for Ollie to call to come in. It wasn’t too late. Recently, he’d been trying to be home more. As he stood against the frame, he looked tired.
“Hey, all,” he murmured. “How’s the studying?”
His expression made Ollie think he was almost grateful to find them all there, spread out with stress on their faces. Had he thought he’d lost this? Guilt squirmed in her stomach at the thought of how angry she’d been at him, at how angry she still was sometimes.
Sara groaned. “It’s hell.”
He winced sympathetically. “AP Physics?” At Sara’s nod, he winced again. “That’s not fun. But if anyone can do it, Sara, you can.”
“Thanks, Calvin.”
Her father was a good person, and that guilt flared again in her insides.
“It’s almost eight—have you eaten?” He asked.
“We heated up the frozen lasagna,” Ollie said. “We left you some.”
“Mm. Nutritious.” The playful tone that curled her father’s words at the end left Ollie feeling lighter. “Thanks.”
“Did you say it’s almost eight?” As he sat up, Deon looked around the room, hand rubbing at his eyes.
“Just gone.”
“Shit—I mean, damn.” A grimace and a wry look to Ollie’s dad. “I’m going to be late. My brother’s getting back into town.” He gathered his stuff. “Thanks for the use of the floor, Calvin.”
Ollie wondered how her father could smile yet still be traced with deep lines of sadness. “You’re always welcome, Deon,” he said.
Deon paused on his way past. “Thanks, sir.”
“Ollie.” Her father waited for her to look at him before continuing. “Whenever you want to invite Carmen over, she’s welcome.”
The genuine tone of his voice, the way his gaze wavered, as if scared Ollie would jerk back and away, left her throat tight. “I’ll ask her.”
He gave a last wave at Sara before turning to leave. With a hand on the doorknob, he paused. “It’s really nice having you all back in the house.”
And he closed the door, leaving a heaviness in the room.
“I’m glad you two are talking again.” Sara had dropped her textbook off the side of the bed. She flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “I was worried there for a while.”
“For a while, so was I.” Ollie stood by her desk a moment, listening to the watch at her wrist that ticked steadily, a sound she still needed next to her ear at night to sleep. The bed dipped when she fell onto her back next to Sara and stared straight up at the ceiling with her.
When had everything started to feel like she could cope again? It felt tenuous, like she was balanced on a wire. Would it just fall out from under her?
“So… Rae,” she began.
A pillow hit Ollie in the face, and she pulled it off, sitting up on an elbow to narrow her eyes at Sara.
Who just smirked. “You deserved that.”
“You made out in a bar last week for everyone to see, and then the other day she was waiting at school for you, all dressed in leather and looking stupidly hot, and you just disappeared with her.”
Something flashed over Sara’s face—a look, then blankness, and Ollie wondered if she’d imagined it.
“We went to her place.”
Ollie’s eyebrows rose, a stab of jealousy in her gut over the fact that she hadn’t done that with Carmen. “I’m impressed. You guys go way back.”
Sara was blinking up at the ceiling. “We do.”
“I thought you hated each other.” Ollie dropped back against the bed. Movement against Ollie’s shoulder told her Sara had shrugged.
“We do.”
“But…?” Ollie waited.
“I don’t know… Rae was the only one in that foster house that kind of… I don’t know…got me. But there’s no but. We’re just… I don’t know…getting something out of our systems.”
“Naked?”
A hand whacked Ollie on the leg, and she laughed, the sound of Sara’s own laughter melding with her own.
If Carmen hadn’t taken Mattie’s hand that day long ago, would he have been okay? Would he be at a house right now, studying, about to be called to a home-cooked meal? Would he have spent the day in the routine of school, working toward a future that was more than this?
There were teenagers sprawled throughout the warehouse. A humid storm had brought more of them in at the same time. Some were playing cards. Others were sparring, the shouts and the sound of skin slapping against mats filtering into the room past the pounding sound of rain that echoed throughout the entire building. Some were sorting food in the kitchen area, organizing pallets and making sure they had enough for the night. Two had left earlier, garbage bags over their clothes, in hope of raiding a supermarket dump spot without being chased off.
Mattie was up a ladder, Dex up one next to him, and Dex was showing him how to deal with an electrical circuit. Apparently, Dex was trying to work out a way to tap into an electrical grid outside.
Whatever that meant.
Carmen really had no idea what they were doing, but Mattie had shown an interest. That had been all it took for Dex to pull out an ancient book on wiring and circuitry and for Mattie’s eyes to light up.
With her feet up on a table, Carmen was keeping an eye on Mattie while she thumbed her way through a book Jia had recommended. And stressing about Sara.
Why had Rae had to bring her here?
Today she didn’t have to be at the bar, but she was going by tomorrow. Last week, she and Dex had planned for the money she would have earned. They’d opened an account for her ages ago, the money piling up there, the debit card in a safety box at the bar. The hope that at sixteen she’d fall off the radar had so far held. Even with her Social Security number bei
ng used, no one had come knocking. Other kids had all managed it too. It was a flaw in the system but one that worked well for her.
It amazed her to think she had some money in a bank, that she would be able to go to a shop and buy something. But for now, all that money needed to accumulate, to prove she could support them later. For now, they weren’t going anywhere, and they wouldn’t get to stop picking through the food supermarkets deemed inedible. But the day was coming.
Carmen had seen others leave, one since she’d arrived and a couple the year she’d spent here before. Jia and Dex got them jobs, used connections to get scholarships for one girl to get into community college. They tried to always make sure the kids they helped on the streets got off the streets.
It all seemed surreal, like it couldn’t happen for her.
Her stomach still twisted and turned and left her raw when she thought about what it all meant for Mattie, the options for their future.
A sharp breeze blew through, and Sara and Rae walked in.
Something cold ran down her spine. She’d talked to Rae about this. Not that her bringing Sara again made much difference after the first time, but still. She snapped the book shut and set it on the table, her hands resting on top of it. Sara said something that made Rae smirk. Some of the teens turned to look at the two of them, but most didn’t pay attention: if Rae brought someone in, they were cool.
Yet to Carmen, the entire world had seemed to tilt, just as it had the other afternoon when Rae had brought Sara and disappeared upstairs with her. But not before Sara had caught sight of Carmen, head cocking at the image of her poring over a book with Mattie.
“Rae.” Jia’s voice was like a whip, and with a roll of her eyes, Rae went to Jia’s room and shut the door behind her.
For a second, Sara pretended to avoid Carmen’s gaze, her hands buried deep in her back pockets, and Carmen took a moment to take her in. Way back when her life hadn’t made any sense but had made more than it did now, she’d liked Sara instantly. The girl had a smile big enough to break down defenses and was unerringly loyal to Ollie.
That was what worried Carmen.
Finally, Sara caught her eye. She straightened her shoulders and walked over. After a second’s hesitation, she dropped into a chair across from Carmen. She was always one for a wink and a quick joke—but now she eyed Carmen, no hint of amusement.
“Carmen.”
“Hello, Sara.”
They stared a minute, and finally, Carmen glanced away. She needed to know. Rae had assured her Sara wasn’t going to say anything, but she needed to ask. “Did you tell Ollie?”
Sara’s eyebrows rose slightly. “No. I wanted to speak to you first.”
“Thank you.”
“I will, though, if you don’t soon.”
Carmen’s heart stilled for a second before pounding too hard in her ears. “I never wanted to lie to Ollie. Even by omission.”
“But you did.”
Carmen nodded once. “But I did, yes.” Sara’s stare was unnerving. “Can I ask? Why haven’t you told her?”
Sara shrugged, and for a moment, Carmen thought she wasn’t going to answer. “I’ve been you. Maybe not the same, but I’ve been in the system. I don’t know your situation, but I’m guessing there’s a reason you haven’t told her?”
Carmen jutted her chin toward Mattie, and Sara turned her head to look where she indicated. Slowly, Carmen let out a breath, as if to brace herself to say the truth. “That’s Mattie. He’s my little brother. We…we were separated once, in foster care. Neither of us had a good experience. This time…” Carmen watched Mattie slide down the ladder, take a screwdriver and start to climb again. He was so small, still so small. “I wasn’t going to let that happen, not again.”
Sara was looking back at her, and the gaze almost hurt, the intensity burning through Carmen and cutting to the meat of her. “You panicked that night we showed up in the bar. You were both runaways and thought we might let it slip.”
“Yes.”
Sara licked her lips. “Okay. Look.” She rested her elbows on the table, leaning forward, “I get how that happened. I would have done the same. I’ve been in the system. It can end well sometimes. I was lucky this time round. But it can be shit.”
There was something in her eyes that reflected what Carmen saw in Mattie’s, and in Rae’s, reflected what she saw in the mirror—something hurt and beaten and bruised. Something too big for small shoulders.
“So I get it. But Ollie… She’s pretty special. And she’s going to think you don’t trust her.”
Swallowing, Carmen held her gaze. “It was for Mattie.”
“I know.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Sara stood. “Good. Because I lied to my friend the other night, and I don’t do that. Not to Ollie.”
They shared a look, and Sara walked away to join Rae, who stood at the bottom of the stairs. Jia followed them with her eyes as they walked up and to the roof, only looking away to share a look with Carmen.
Carmen had to tell Ollie.
She had to—now.
They were supposed to be meeting on the weekend.
Ollie was going to stop by the bar. But it had been days since she’d last seen Carmen, and her body was humming with the need to be near her. All day, she’d played back and forth between going to surprise her and sticking to the plan. When she’d left the house, she’d paused on the doorstep. She’d turn back to go inside and then faced the path again and again. Eventually, she’d sighed at herself and had gotten on the bus.
It was hard, not being able to message or Facebook her, to have no contact. But in some ways, it was refreshing. Everything about her life in every other way was instant: school, cell, Internet, people… When she saw Carmen for the first time in days, watching her smile slowly unfurl and feeling a flip in her stomach, it felt true, earned.
She couldn’t stay long. Ollie had to study, and she thought tonight she’d sit next to her father on the sofa and actually watch something together, to not feel the space pulling between them. To feel that thing she had once thought was too far broken.
It was early enough in the week that the bar was almost empty, with only a few regulars Ollie recognized. With a start and an inward chuckle, it occurred to her that if she could recognize others here, she was a regular too.
Dex was at the bar, chatting with one of the men, and simply waved at Ollie as she walked in. A month ago, she’d found out he liked to draw, and the two of them had spent hours talking about art. Ever since, he seemed lighter, more casual with her.
He glanced back toward the office door, then gestured to the end of the bar. When she sat, he put a Coke in front of her with a wink, and she thanked him, watching him move up and down the bar, wiping surfaces.
“Is Carmen here?”
It would be a pity if she didn’t have to work today. Ollie had taken the risk, poring over her index cards on the bus to make herself feel like it wouldn’t be a waste of time if she didn’t see Carmen.
Dex nodded. “She’s here. She’ll be out in a minute.”
“Thanks.”
In Ollie’s bag with her index cards was a journal, every page filled with a sketch or a painting. She kept pushing against the bag to feel the sharp edge of it, heart fluttering at the thought of giving it to Carmen. It seemed intimate, personal. Like giving over a piece of herself.
Dex went to the other end of the bar, unstacking glasses. A sound made Ollie turn around on her barstool to see Carmen stepping through the office door, the door snicking closed behind her.
“Ollie.” The name slipped from Carmen’s lips like it always did: unbidden, easily, as if anything involving Ollie, Carmen couldn’t help doing.
Which was true—when it came to Ollie, Carmen was powerless.
She was on a stool, twisted around to watch Carmen, and it made Carmen’s heart speed up. Carmen wondered if that feeling would ever go away. Mattie was in the office behind her, it being one of the days he’d wanted to come with her, and Carmen hadn’t wanted to say no; when she knew he was close, she could focus more, relax and move through the day, even with the worries that the attempted mugging had started.
But Ollie didn’t know about him. While this would probably be the perfect opportunity to tell her—especially because she’d promised Sara—Carmen had wanted to do it when Mattie wasn’t there. She wanted to give Ollie time to adjust to what Carmen had to say before holding Mattie out like an unwanted surprise. Keeping it all from her now would be easier, despite the guilt that licked at Carmen’s insides. Rejection wasn’t an option when Carmen didn’t offer anything up to reject.
Ollie smiled at her, and Carmen returned it, walking forward and kissing her, their lips melding together for too short a period.
“This is a surprise,” Carmen murmured.
“A good one?”
Carmen kissed her, an answer enough to draw out a contented hum from Ollie.
“I missed you.” The murmur of Ollie’s words against Carmen’s lips was as good as a kiss.
Later, when she was in the warehouse, too hot and tired and nervous about life, she’d pull out the memory of those words and the way they whispered over her tongue, and everything bothering her would ease.
Yet still questions gnawed at her.
What if Ollie ran? What if this truth was too much, enough to weigh them down? What if Ollie saw it as an unacceptable secret or a betrayal?
“Are you okay?” Ollie had pulled away, making the cool air swirl around Carmen’s hot cheeks.
“I need to tell you something.”
Ollie cocked her head, looking at her with eyes so blue that Carmen would swear she could tip forward and fall into the never-ending depths of them. When Carmen had been small, she had loved to spin as fast as she could until she fell. She’d land heavy on the grass, and the blue of the sky would swirl above. It had been endless. That’s how Carmen felt with Ollie.
