by K. S. Thomas
“It was worth it. Getting you out of that house. Getting caught. This time. It was really worth it.” He seems genuinely pleased but I can’t help but feel guilt rise from the pit of my stomach, making me outright nauseous. I’m better off for it, but Gun? He just barely scraped his way out and by some miracle managed to hang on to the good thing he already had. The good thing he only walked away from, for me.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“Wasn’t your fault.”
“It’s always my fault.”
His fingers abandon mine to move up my side until they curl up in my hair and tug, giving me little choice but to turn and face him. “I choose, Coop. Every sticky situation I’ve ever gotten myself into, I chose to be in. I choose. And that makes it my responsibility, my fault, when I get caught.”
“You really need to start making better choices then.” I kid, of course. It’s time to let the light back in. Things get too dark, too quickly when we’re not careful. And tonight, I just want to be happy that my best friend is back. That he’s safe. That we’re both going to be okay.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone quite so chipper on the first day of school,” Mags says dryly, handing me a cup of coffee. That’s the extent of breakfast around here.
“It’ll be the first time in all the years Gun and I have known each other that we actually get to go to the same school.” I grab a banana from the counter. Just because Mags doesn’t eat doesn’t mean she withholds food. Quite the contrary. She’s a lot like her mom in that regard.
“You and Gun, huh?” She’s eying me curiously over the rim of her mug. “What’s the story there anyway?”
I find it really hard to believe Mr. B didn’t spell it all out for her. Especially because I know she would have asked him before ever agreeing to take me. And if he’d left anything out, she would have asked me the second she got the chance. She wouldn’t have sat on it. Whatever story she’s fishing for, is not the story.
“Come on, Mags,” I scold, peeling my banana. “I know you can be more direct than that.”
She smirks. “Fine. Do you need condoms? Because I’m maxed out on foster kids since before you got here. We’re not adding a baby to the mix.”
I almost choke. “No condoms,” I sputter, trying not to spit banana everywhere.
Mags raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Are you on the pill?”
I manage to swallow at last. “I’m not having sex.”
Her other brow rises to meet the first still hanging out right below her hairline. “Seriously?”
“Yes!” My face feels like it’s on fire. I don’t think I’ve ever been redder in my entire life.
She laughs. At me. “Alright, alright. No need to turn purple over it.” Mags goes to the sink and pours me a glass of water while I continue to cough and clear my throat. “So, is it like a brother sister thing?” She doesn’t sound like she’s buying that. “Because, I gotta tell you, I have a lot of brothers and none of them look at me the way Gun looks at you.”
Great. Now I’m choking on water. And I definitely just spit.
“He’s cute, in a scary sort of way. You don’t think he’s cute?” she rattles on, taking a dishtowel and dropping it on the floor and using her foot to dry up the water I sprayed. “Of course, you think he’s cute. That’s why you started blushing in the first place.” She picks the towel back up and I note how she places it right back onto the hook. Not using that to dry dishes later.
I clear my throat loudly. “Gun and I. Are. Just. Friends.”
“Sure, ya are.” She finally returns her attention to her coffee. “And me and B never made out in our parents’ van. In the garage. In the middle of the night. Before we were adopted and became brother and sister.”
“Ew.”
She taps the side of her mug with her index finger, studying me with a scrutiny I’m becoming accustomed to from her already. “Right, because if I decided tomorrow to adopt you and Gun, you would automatically feel as though you’ve been siblings your entire life. And all the blushing and wistful staring, that would just...cease to exist.”
“I didn’t blush because you mentioned Gun. I blushed because I’m not used to discussing my sex life with people.”
“So, you do have one of those,” she cuts in.
“No!” This is the last time I’m getting up early enough to have breakfast before school. Never again am I lingering around this kitchen.
“Then it’s the idea of sex you find embarrassing? Well, we need to make sure we put that on the list.”
Huh?
“What list?”
She actually retrieves a notepad and pen from a drawer. “The list of reasons you need therapy. It’s pretty long already, but from one crack-whore baby to another, that’s not exactly surprising.”
I blink. Again. “You know, I’m still never really sure when to be offended around you.”
“Can’t...tell...when...she’s...being...insulted,” she says in slow motion as she scribbles yet another line on my therapy to-do list.
“You have got to be kidding me! Making notes about my mental health? What about yours?”
“Oh, I have no mental health to speak of,” she deadpans, “I thought that was clear.”
“Getting clearer,” I snort, unable to decide between laughing and crying, ”tell me more about making out with your brother and I’ll be well prepared to spend the first ten sessions talking all about you!”
She doesn’t even bat an eyelash. Just turns her attention back to her notepad.
“Can’t...tell...when...she’s...being...fuuuucked...with.” She looks up, grinning broadly.
“You suck.” I snatch my backpack from the counter. It’s new. It’s from Mags. She doesn’t suck hardly at all.
She yanks my straps, making us collide in an exuberant hug. “Go get your happy on.” She smacks a dramatic kiss on my cheek and releases me with a force that sends me halfway toward the front door. “I put KitKat’s in the bottom pocket. Just in case,” she calls out after me.
I’ve got my hand on the doorknob. “In case of what?”
I hear her reach for her paper. “Doesn’t...understand...the...value...of...chocolate.”
I roll my eyes, laughing. “Bye, Mags.”
“Later, gator.”
I find myself skipping on the way to school. Skipping. Like I’m twelve. Except I was never the sort of twelve-year-old who skipped. I’m not sure I was aware I even knew how to until this very moment. That’s how skip deprived I’ve been. One more thing to put on my therapy to-do list.
When I’m done skipping, I take time to notice things. Like the birds. There are a lot of birds. Not the scary kind Hitchcock found so fascinating, but pretty ones. Chirping ones. I like birds. I think maybe I want to learn more about them. Oh. And butterflies. One just flew right up into my face.
What the hell is happening to me?!
It’s a big question, and school is only half a mile from Mags’ place, so I don’t have time to answer it right now. Skipping really sped up the walk.
I’m nowhere near the first kid to arrive. The place is buzzing with gossip and panic over forgotten homework. I fight the urge to laugh. Kind of exciting to think that missed homework might be the worst thing I have to worry about between now and graduation.
Doing my best to bypass as many inquiring eyes as possible, I hurry up and find the office. They’re expecting me, but I still need to check in and get my schedule.
Thirty seconds later and I’m back out in the hall, examining the piece of paper in my hand. I have no clue how I feel about the rest of my classes, but there’s one name I recognize on this schedule and it basically confirms what I’ve been slowly, begrudgingly admitting to be true. Today is the best day ever.
“Coop,” I hear Gun’s voice call my name. If my heart wasn’t racing before, it seems to be doing just that right now.
Automatically, I lift my gaze to seek him out. It takes no time at all
to find him, even with the crowd of people sifting through between us. Maybe it’s from learning to find each other in the dark, maybe we’ve just been through so much together, I don’t know, but I feel suddenly certain I could find him anytime, anywhere.
I wave. Grinning like a maniac. He’s going to think I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. Or maybe this is just what happy feels like. Crazy. Ridiculous. Amazing.
I hurry through the mass of people who seem completely unaware of the barrier they’re creating.
“Hey.” I sound giddy with excitement. I am giddy with excitement.
“What’s up with you?” He seems amused. He would be. That, or worried, thinking someone slipped me something. Maybe that is what he’s thinking. That I’ve got a sugar high from all the chocolate Mags has been pushing on me.
That’s totally not it though. And I show him. “I have the same bitch for first period!” I announce ecstatically
The corner of his mouth hitches up into a lopsided grin. “I’m sorry. That really sucks for you.”
Sure. If by sucks he means the way it’s totally awesome for me.
I’m almost a little surprised by my own fate when I wind up sitting halfway across the room from Gun in class. Here I thought the stars had aligned to grant me all the most trivial aspects of friendship at last and then poof, all hope of whispering insults back and forth during crazy lady’s class, gone in an instant all because people are unusually attached to their desks around this place.
All girls, I notice. All girls, all sitting in a circle around Gun. And Ed. I also notice, that despite what Mags may have said this morning, Gun doesn’t look at me with any sort of significance reflecting in his eyes. There’s nothing. Zero. Zilch. Outside of the initial taunt when our teacher silenced everyone by scraping her nails over the chalkboard, he hasn’t lifted his head, or even his lids, to even glance in my direction. I would know. Because I haven’t looked anywhere else. Stupid Mags.
Why am I obsessing over this? Gun and I are just that...Gun and I. We’ve always been just us. There’s never been any need to define who we are to each other. I’ve never needed to. Except now, Mags and all her stupid insinuations are in my head. And I suddenly care about the blonde who just asked Gun for a pen. I want to know if Gun thinks she’s pretty. If he likes her. Or who the chick is sitting to his right who just very obviously slipped him a note.
He never talks about girls to me. He’s never dated. I’ve never dated. Dating always seemed to be the least of anyone’s worries, not to mention, it’s hardly practical. There’s no point in ever attempting to commit to someone when you’ve yet to find a home willing to commit to you. The older we get, the more we bounce. Until now.
I catch a heated glare from highlight Barbie. Looks like she’s feeling territorial. She’s feeling territorial of Gun. My Gun.
Oh, God. What is happening to me?!
By the end of first period, the fog of Mags and strange girls has lifted. Thank GOD. I’m thinking clearly. Rationally. Gun is my friend. My best friend. There’s never been anything else. There’s never been room for anything else. There isn’t now either. Something I have no trouble remembering in the three periods which follow. Without him.
Class is barely over when everyone jumps from their seats and proceeds to spill out of the room and into the hallway. It’s lunch and no one wants to waste a minute of it. Except me.
I’m in no hurry to get pushed through the halls like I’m a cow stuck at dead center of the herd. Mags packed my lunch. Cold pizza and fruit roll ups. They can wait. Besides, I get weird when I’m squeezed between strange bodies in large spaces, like some sort of reverse claustrophobia. I can sit in a tiny box with no sign of daylight for days, but one skip hop and jump through this sardine can and I’ll be breaking out in a cold sweat before I make it to the cafeteria.
Provided I ever find it. The way Gun’s directions have been panning out thus far, I’ve damn near had a full tour of the place and the day’s not even over.
Once I’m down to stragglers, I start my hike down the semi-empty halls to find Gun and Ed. So far, the only clue I have is to try and clear the lockers. There aren’t any near the cafeteria. Once those are out of sight, I guess I’ll follow my nose. School cafeteria food has a scent all on its own.
When I’ve turned down the fourth consecutive hall lined with floor to ceiling lockers, I start to slow down. I’m about to whine out loud, for satisfaction purposes only, when a guy cuts in front of me, bringing me to an instant stop. I have big plans to tell him to shove off, until I look up.
Angels are singing.
Sparkling rays of sunshine intertwine with glittering streaks of rainbow.
All the world has disappeared. Or, at least it will, if I don’t inhale, like now.
“Hey.” Bright pearly whites flash me with a smile so hot I can feel my insides melting.
“Uh-huh.” I clear my throat, as if I have real words stored up and on hand to use. I don’t. And the pounding in my chest is making it impossible to hear my own thoughts, provided I’m having any of those. I feel so lightheaded right now, brain activity of any kind may be impossible until further notice.
He tilts his head to the side, his broad shoulders leaning in toward me ever so slightly and his wavy blond hair is suddenly very much in my reach. I don’t know why I notice this other than I have an inexplicable need to touch it. To run my fingers through it, down to the back of his head. To pull him closer.
“You’re new,” he says, stating the obvious. I don’t care though because his voice is velvety smooth.
“Hm.” Another friggin sound. I pry my eyes away from him. I’m not going down like this. No way. Not today. Doing my best to make stalling look like lack of enthusiasm, I finally reconnect with my inner rebel and quip, “Are you sure? Maybe the years of avoiding you have simply caught up with me.”
He laughs. It’s a great laugh. A whole body laugh, causing him to step into my space even more. Now I can smell him on top of everything else and he smells delicious. I am so screwed.
“Trust me, no amount of effort on your part could have kept you hidden from me for the last three and a half years.” Charm. I can’t take it.
“Is that so?” I place one hand on my hip and jut it out in one last ditch effort to seem aloof and unimpressed. I’m neither. I’m pretty sure he’s aware.
“That smile and those eyes?” Most definitely.
“I haven’t smiled yet.” Haven’t been able to feel my face long enough to do much of anything outside of staring.
“Sure you have. The whole time I watched you wander down this hall, you were smiling.”
I was? Hard to believe, considering how frustrated I was. But more importantly, “You were watching me?”
“Hard not to.” He grins broadly, a sort of excitement dancing in his gorgeous eyes. “Would have said hi to you sooner, but it took me a minute to remember words. And how to walk. Almost like you put a spell on me or something.”
“Oh, please,” I roll my eyes. But I’m smiling. Definitely smiling now.
“I’m serious. When I did figure out how to put one foot in front of the other again, I did it with such limited grace I ran over three freshmen on my way to get to you. Had to stop and pick them up, then apologize. Then, hand one of them some cash for lunch since I smashed his in the collision. You are a serious safety hazard to these halls and you don’t even know it.”
“Apparently only when you’re around. Pretty sure I made it through the last four periods without incident.”
He bites his lip. I want to bite his lip. “Guess I’m special then.”
“Guess so.” I didn’t mean to say that. Dammit.
He dips his head again, raising one brow and going full on puppy-dog eyes. “Maybe I’m even special enough to sit with you at lunch?” Oh, my GOD, could he be any cuter?!
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not we make it to the cafeteria before lunch is over.”
<
br /> He takes my hand, catching me completely off guard, then starts tugging it to follow him. I do, surprising myself for the second time in the last ten seconds. “Who said we were eating in the cafeteria?” He winks. I don’t know where he’s taking me and I don’t care. The moment my palm met his I had the distinct feeling I’d follow this boy just about anywhere he asked.
CHAPTER SIX
“Mags?” I ask, bouncing back and forth between my heels and the balls of my feet. “You ever been in love?” As soon as I say it I feel dumb. I can’t imagine Mags getting all moony over anyone. Ever.
She drops the green bean she just snapped and drapes her wrists over the rim of her large bowl, glaring at me with a semi-annoyed smirk on her face. “You really want to talk about me? Or would you rather talk about whoever it is making you so particularly unbearable this afternoon?”
“His name is Reed,” I gush. I don’t gush. Well, I never used to. Now I gush. “He’s the most amazing human being on the face of the earth. He’s funny and charming and smart.”
“Hold up. You met him, what? Seven, eight hours ago? How do you know he’s smart? He have his IQ score on hand or something?” She picks up another green bean, clearly confident she can multi-task her way through this conversation.
“It’s been four. And he’s on the honor roll. Plus, he wants to be a lawyer.”
She twirls a gangly bean around in the air. “Whoopee.”
I scrunch up my face, rethinking this attempt at girl talk. I’ve never had girlfriends. Not real ones. And while I’ve talked about everything and anything with Gun my entire life, somehow, when it came down to it, I couldn’t talk to him about this.
“You’re being a sucky girl, Mags.”
She snorts. “I’m not being anything. I am a sucky girl, Coop.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a handful of M&Ms, which she plops down onto the counter in front of me. “You spent over an hour hanging over at B’s after school. Why didn’t you unload all this on your BFF while you were there?”
