Sirens and Scales

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Sirens and Scales Page 209

by Kellie McAllen


  “Yes, unless you want to see me before then,” he said, biting his lip.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ve noticed that you don’t have a car, so… I was thinking that I could drive you to school Monday morning, if you want me to,” Jaron said as he inspected his shoes.

  I had never seen him look so bashful, and it was almost too adorable to stand. “I’d love you to, but I’ll have to clear it with my aunt and uncle first.”

  Clarissa pulled in behind us, and Jaron jumped out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. Popping open the door, he took my hand and gently helped me out of the car. “Do you clear everything with your aunt and uncle?” he asked.

  I pursed my lips.

  “I’m not trying to tease you, just curious…”

  I thought for a moment. “Well, I didn’t clear this ride, or our late night swim with them.” I paused embarrassed at the thought of talking about that with him, even though he knew every detail.

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” he said, pulling me against his hard body. “Your list of decisions that are only yours is pretty small… mind if I add one more un-cleared moment to the list?”

  I nodded and he melted into me. One of his arms wrapped around my waist and the other hand found its way to the nape of my neck. He pulled away much too soon, and my lip fell into a pout. “I could and would kiss you all day, but we do have an audience.”

  My mouth fell open and I put my hands over my face. After a few seconds, I gathered the courage to glance Clarissa’s way. I was sorry I did. Her mouth was open and her eyebrows were raised in completely shock, and as mothers like to warn children, somehow her face was stuck in the horrified state. I gave an apologetic look to Jaron and started walking quickly to her car.

  “Let me know if I can pick you up on Monday,” he said, waving to me.

  I cringed at the thought of having that conversation with Sylvia and pulled open the passenger side door. Jaron rounded the Mustang’s bumper and winked at me before leaping over the door and into his seat.

  “Is his door broken or something?” Clarissa asked obviously annoyed.

  She had at least tried to shake off some of her astonishment. “Sorry about that,” I said, looking back out the windshield as Jaron drove away.

  “You don’t need to be sorry, Maribel.” She groaned. “At least not yet. Sometimes, in fact most times, relationships end in hurt. And I just don’t want to see you get your heart broken.”

  “Why do you think that I’ll get my heart broken?” I asked.

  She narrowed her eyes, watching Jaron’s taillights in the distance. “He’s good at hiding it and he’s good at deflection, but I haven’t learned one thing about him. Who are his parents? Does he have brothers and sister? Where is he living?” She trailed off. “I mean, do you know any of those things? Does he ever talk about himself?”

  I didn’t know the answers to any of her questions, but that didn’t mean anything. “Just because he doesn’t like to talk about himself doesn’t mean he’s hiding something, Clarissa.”

  “It isn’t just that he doesn’t go on and on about himself. He turns a straight question around. Like at dinner. You asked him about his twenty question’s round with Dylan, and he said he learned about you, not divulging anything about what he was asked or what he told Dylan…” she said, looking out the window again at the now far off glowing lights that looked like red eyes in the darkness. “It’s just odd.”

  We drove home in silence, I wasn’t mad at Clarissa for being herself and saying exactly what she was thinking the moment she was thinking it, but I was a little annoyed that Jaron hadn’t given me anything to calm her worries. If he had told me even a few things about himself, I could have said, “Oh Clarissa you silly thing, he lives on Sixth Street with his parents and two dogs and a younger brother.” But he hadn’t. The only thing he'd really told me about himself was that I was doing something to him. I knew exactly what he meant by that, because he was doing something to me as well. Waking me up. My senses were heightened and lights seemed brighter, colors more vivid. But could he really feel the same way I did if he wouldn’t tell me about his past, or present. Any question he asked, I would answer without hesitation. My walls just didn’t know how to be up around him.

  “We’re here,” Clarissa said in an unsure voice. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I was just—”

  “No, I’m not upset at you. All you ever do is tell me what’s on your mind. I’m just thinking,” I said, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “It is weird that I don’t know anything about him, and I’m scared of…”

  “Scared of what?”

  “Well, I’m scared of the way that I feel. I’m not rational around him. I can’t look at him and think this is someone I’m just getting to know. I look at him and think, this is an old friend that I’ve been waiting for my whole life.” I sighed. “What are you supposed to do if you get too attached too soon? How can I keep myself from getting hurt if he isn’t who I think he is?”

  Clarissa turned off the engine so she wasn’t idling in front of my house. “I wish I had an answer to that, but I don’t. I mean, I think you’re already in too deep to not get hurt if it turns out bad. Look at how you are around him. We just need to hope that he’s a good one, and if your taste in boyfriends matches your taste in best friends, then he’ll be a-mazing,” she said with a grin.

  “True enough,” I said as I nudged her.

  “Just try to be smart. I know that it’s probably a hard thing to do around a man that looks that good. Remember, it’s easier to be smart around boys if both parties have their clothes on.”

  “Clarissa!” I shoved her playfully. “Have I ever had a hard time keeping my clothes on?”

  “Well, no. But, and this is a big but, you never had Jaron around before.”

  She did have a point, I was going to have to really try to keep my head on straight around him, I knew exactly what could have went down on the lake had Jaron not been a gentleman and pulled away. Part of me was frightened by the thought, but a new part of me relished it.

  “Well, I better get inside. Let me know if I need to do anything for your debutant ball,” I said, clambering out of the car.

  “Don’t forget these!” Clarissa hissed. I turned back, and she was holding up the bag containing my shoe box. “Your alibi, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I was really, really bad at sneaking around. Thank goodness I had Clarissa around. “See you Monday.”

  Clarissa drove down the long winding drive, and Dylan was at my side quicker than I thought humanly possible.

  “We were starting to worry,” he said putting an arm around my shoulder.

  “I’m pretty sure that you and Sylvia are always starting to worry. That’s one of your two settings, starting to worry and worry,” I said, smiling up at him.

  “You’ll understand someday,” he said, guiding me up the stairs.

  “What do you mean?” I asked before opening the door.

  He opened his mouth to speak then paused. He looked out over the lawn with worried eyes then back to me. “Just that, you’ll have kids of your own one day and you’ll see why we worry… especially when they grow into teenagers.”

  “Where’s Sylvia?” I asked, having not seen her in the living room.

  “Well, she decided to cook dinner for you—”

  “Oh no!” I whispered. She was hands down the worst cook ever. Cooking was the single thing that my aunt wasn’t above and beyond average at.

  “No need to whisper. She’s out buying some pizza. Her creation didn’t turn out,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Pizza sounds good. I’m going to go get washed up.” I walked out of the living room and stopped at the kitchen on my way to the stairs. The stainless steel pots were all hanging above the copper covered island. The stove was clear and the countertops uncluttered. This was not how a kitchen looked when Sylvia tried her hand at cooking. I sniffed the air, trying to pick up a hi
nt of any cooking smell lingering, but there was none. Sylvia hadn’t been cooking, so why the story? If she wasn’t out of the house just to get a pizza, then why was she gone? I had lied to my aunt and uncle today with the sole purpose of riding in a car with a boy, a thing that teenage girls everywhere did every day. My uncle had lied to me about Sylvia cooking, but why? I was about to go back into the living room to ask. We had always been an open family, but I remembered what Clarissa had said about them needing some alone time. And maybe that was it. Sylvia needed to escape the cage that was our existence sometimes too.

  I went upstairs to my room and started getting ready for a shower. I pulled a comb through my hair, which was tangled like crazy from the ride over, and unhooked my bracelet, not wanting to get it wet. It shimmered in the golden glow of the light fixtures. I turned it this way and that in my hand, watching the iridescent surface shine. It really was perfect, if it wasn’t for that terrible charm. I put it to my face for close inspection. The haggard thing had a flat nose and small but noticeable fangs, the eyes of the creature were too large like mine. I looked at its smooth muscular torso, which lead to its scale covered snake like tale. I searched for a way to simply unhook the charm, but didn’t find one. I’d have to see if Sylvia had a tool in her jewelry making kit to detach the wretched thing. I placed it on the vanity top and hopped into the shower. In the hot water, I contemplated why Jaron, and my own uncle and aunt, were a mystery to me.

  AFTER A RESOUNDING NO to the Jaron taking me to school idea, I was sitting in Aunt Sylvia’s Prius on the way to school fiddling with the bracelet that I had no memory of putting back on my wrist. “Don’t pull on that, darling. You don’t want it to break.”

  I stopped toying with it. “I really do hate that snake charm. Do you think you could get it off? It’s so creepy,” I said, turning my attention to her.

  “We’ll see. I don’t think it’s too bad, and I wouldn’t want to change what Johnny made for you.”

  I sighed. I was trying not to be a total teenage girl and be mad at Sylvia for not letting me drive to school with Jaron, but I’d be lying to myself if I pretended that things weren’t a bit strained between us.

  “I’ll see you later,” I said before opening my door.

  “I’ll be here, three o’clock on the dot,” she said.

  Translation, you can’t even spend one minute without a guiding hand.

  I closed the door and walked away. When I was on the school steps, I stopped and closed my eyes, focusing on taking deep breaths. I had never really been mad at Sylvia, but the way that she was acting with this… it was driving me crazy. Before Jaron, I hadn’t even notice how structured, planned, and supervised my life was. Now, no matter how badly I tried to ignore the fact, it remained. My life was a fish tank that my aunt and uncle designed; they set up the walls, scheduled the feedings, and decided who could swim with me.

  Large hands squeezed my sides, and I squealed. I opened my eyes and turned around to see Jaron standing behind me. After recovering from the momentary daze that his perfection always put me in, I pushed his shoulder. “You scared me.”

  “Well, maybe if you didn’t stand around with your eyes closed you wouldn’t be such an easy target,” he said with a grin. “So can I walk you to class?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Since you weren’t allowed to drive me to school, I’d say I owe you a walk to class.” I sighed.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

  “Yes—”

  He shook his head.

  “It’s just my aunt and uncle. They are driving me crazy. I want a little freedom like a normal person. I mean, I love that they care, but they care a little too much.”

  “I see. Well maybe, a little time away from them is in order,” he suggested as we walked down the hallway.

  I paused. “What do you mean?”

  He hesitated, opened his mouth and then closed it again.

  “What is it?” I prodded.

  He looked away. “Spring break is right around the corner. I was thinking that we could take a trip to the beach, since you’ve never been.”

  “Just us?” I gulped.

  “Clarissa could come if you want. Just a normal teenage spring break away from your too protective aunt and uncle,” he said, still not meeting my eye. “How does that sound?” he asked, finally looking at me.

  A real spring break away from my family. Just me, Clarissa, and… Jaron, at the beach. It sounded amazing. I couldn’t even imagine how wonderful it would be to swim in the ocean, the place that I had dreamed about my entire life, with Jaron.

  “Yes! I don’t know how we can do it. Sylvia and Dylan are sure to say no. But I’d love to go with you. I mean, I’ll find a way.”

  “Okay,” he said quickly. “Now let’s get to class.” He looked over his shoulder as we walked the rest of the way.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked.

  “Uh… I’m still new here, remember? Just trying to get my bearings,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulder.

  I sighed. I wondered if I’d ever get used to him being around.

  We walked into English, and the class was still half-empty. Jaron took the seat directly behind me; luckily Mr. Walker’s class wasn’t assigned seating. I set my books on my desk and turned around.

  “Now, how am I supposed to concentrate on all of the incredibly important things Mr. Walker is bound to say with you in front of me?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “How am I supposed to concentrate with you behind me?”

  “Touché.” He laughed.

  “And besides, being so distracted, you won’t have to hear any of my completely wrong interpretations of classic literature and feel the need to correct me.”

  “Only a fool would try to correct you, Maribel,” he said, smiling. “And just because you are too beautiful for me to pay attention to our teacher doesn’t mean I’ll miss a thing you say.”

  “I better watch what I say then, huh?”

  “Never, I like knowing what’s on your mind,” he said, his eyes sparkling.

  I seriously doubted that. All that had been on my mind was how little I knew about him and trying to figure out how to get him to open up to me.

  “What is it?” he asked. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

  I took a breath, not wanting to tell him, and was saved by Mr. Walker starting class. Clarissa walked in just as the bell rang and smiled triumphantly at beating it. She hurried to her seat and shifted her knowing gaze between me and Jaron. Mr. Walker moved on to the lesson and the hour flew by. The second the bell rang, Jaron was beside my desk, taking my books up with one hand and hoisting me up with the other. I beckoned Clarissa to follow us with the arm that didn’t have Jaron attached to it. She got up and followed us into the busy hallway.

  “Hey, Siamese twins, what’s up?” she asked.

  I laughed. “I have a top secret spring break thing in the works. Do you have any plans yet?”

  She shrugged. “Daddy says he’ll be home during spring break, but if that falls through… I’ll do anything to get out of my house and away from my mom,” she said with a laugh.

  I tried to smile along with her, but it was hard to pretend to laugh. She joked about how her mother treated her to make it seem like it didn’t bother her, but I knew better. “I’ll talk to you at lunch,” I said, turning down the hall leading to Art.

  “Okay see you guys there,” she said.

  Jaron held my hand as we walked into Art class, which the room full of girls noticed. Everyone watched us as we made our way over to my station. Jaron didn’t seem to mind, so I tried not to let it bother me. The watching turned into whispering, and as we passed, I picked up what one of the girls was saying.

  “Maybe I should paint him too,” she giggled.

  Jaron looked at me questioningly and whispered, “What is she going on about?”

  “Uhm…” Oh my gosh! We were almost to my station and I still had the ca
nvas that I had painted of him set up on the easel. I would die if he saw it. I looked over and sighed. It was covered, at least. Maybe I could get it out of there before he could see it. “Let me just move this…” I said and carefully grabbed the canvas, making sure that the cloth kept it covered. As I walked away, I felt a tug and the fabric fell away. A corner of it had been caught on the easel. My face fell in embarrassment as Jaron’s eyes grew wide.

  “Wow,” he said, moving over to me. He lifted a hand to the canvas and then to my chin. “You are pretty adorable when you’re embarrassed, you know?”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, but noticed that my horror was being witnessed by everyone in class; even the usually vacant Ms. Reed was taking notice.

  “Let’s sit down,” I said, trying not to meet his eyes. I set the painting back on my easel and sat down with my face in my hands.

  Jaron sat at the station next to me and let me hide for a minute before speaking. “So, what’s with the portrait? I thought you were mad at me last week.”

  I tried not to meet his eyes. “Yes, I was actually thinking about how badly I was going to chew you out when I was painting this. I wasn’t really thinking about painting when I did a portrait of you,” I said, looking at the painting. It was a great likeness, though he couldn’t fully be captured by a paint brush. Now that I had gotten to know him a little better, the image was much too dark. It was all deep blues and smokey grays. If I had to do it again, I would have brought some light into it.

  Jaron stared at me, his brow raised in surprise. “You painted this without even paying attention?”

  “Yep.”

  “So, what can you do when you are?” he asked.

  “Well, if you ever happen upon the painting I have hanging in the school, I guess you’ll know,” I said while taking my paints out. He had a way of diffusing my embarrassment, and I was feeling like the earth didn‘t need to swallow me up after all.

  “You won’t tell me where it’s at?” he asked.

  “Nope, I won’t. You will probably know which one is mine without me having to tell you.” I was sure he would know it was mine, but he’d never happen across it.

 

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