I made no attempt, nor had any intention, of blowing them out. I remembered the way she’d looked by candlelight in Milwaukee.
Karma shrugged. “Go green, I guess.”
“Go green?”
“Never mind.”
She spread out the blanket and knelt beside Nell, who was frantically trying to move and talk at the same time, legs pumping, neck strained. Karma’s eyes caught the light, little golden sparks that burned in the center, shadows jumping across her face. “Do you need help with dinner?” she asked.
“I’m all good. Juliette helped me plan a few essentials.”
“Essentials? Like what?”
“A salad with lots of healthy, dancer-type stuff, and cheesy bread. She said the salad would impress you and the cheesy bread would be a guilty pleasure.”
“Oh my God, she said that?”
“She did.”
“I had no idea you talked to her about this.”
“Every man has his secrets.” I sat on the opposite side of the blanket, which felt really safe and really dangerous at the same time. Karma was wearing a tight black dress, leggings, and tall boots. She’d obviously done her hair, which was down, the curls prettier than normal, tendrils framing her face.
“What?” she said.
“Nothing.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re beautiful,” I said.
“Oh. Thanks.” She stood and began wandering around the room. “Do you have any music?”
I dug my phone out of my pocket. “What are you in the mood for?”
“How about the Black Keys?”
“Okay.”
The timer went off on the stove at the same moment the drums kicked in.
“Let’s take this party to the table,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
The oven creaked open with a blast of heat, filling the air with the scent of butter and cheese. I fumbled to plate the salad, lost a few strawberries in the process, and rounded the corner with a pounding heart.
“For our first course,” I said, “a strawberry walnut salad with grilled chicken and a champagne vinaigrette.”
“Impressive.” She moved Nell beside her on the blanket, shaking a toy above her daughter’s outstretched hands. “That’s a pretty fancy salad.”
I sat in the chair across from her and stared until she took a bite. I leaned forward a little.
“Is it good?” I asked.
“So good.” She licked the tip of her fork. “I love salad.”
“That’s what Juliette said.” I sounded way too eager.
She chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed and set down her fork. “I’ve decided how I’m going to use the scholarship money if I get it.”
I twisted the end of my fork against the lettuce. “Oh?”
She reached for one of the glasses of water I’d set out. “There’s a dance program at the University of Southern Mississippi, which is about a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Danny’s school.”
“That seems far,” I said. “How are you going to take care of Nell all alone like that?”
“Two and a half hours is a lot better than twenty. Danny and I will still be able to see each other every weekend. If things don’t work out with the scholarship, maybe I can apply for a grant.” Her smile had definitely faded. “Or there’s always financial aid.”
“What about New York?”
She gave a little head shake. “That’s not going to work.”
“You haven’t cancelled your admission yet, have you?” If she waited until Tek got back to me, her plan would definitely change.
She smoothed her hair behind her ear. “It’s on my to-do list.”
“Is that really what you want? To be in Mississippi by yourself, no support, just so you’ll be eighteen hours closer to Danny?”
She stabbed the greens on her plate over and over. “Of course that’s what I want.”
“Is that what he wants?”
“He said he wanted us to go with him.” Her tone was verging on angry, which was how it always seemed whenever he was the topic of conversation.
While she shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth, I raised my glass. “Okay. To the future.” After a few seconds she lifted her glass.
“To the future.”
There was sadness where there should have been excitement. Our glasses clinked. We finished our first course to the welcome racket of the rock music. I really thought Tek would have come by now—that Phoebe would have talked to him, set things straight. I had to get that lead arrow before she called New York. I didn’t feel hungry, but I kept eating.
“So good,” she repeated when she was done. Then her eyes widened and she dug my bucket list out of one of the bags she’d brought. “We have to cross this off. Here, you do the honors.”
I drew a black line through the words, though I couldn’t stop thinking about how everything on the napkin had been an excuse to spend more time with her. Two and a half weeks apart. Too long. The list was already getting short. “Let me grab the second course.”
In the kitchen I lined up the plates until they were exactly straight and placed a piece of cheesy bread in the center for each of us. Before I rounded the corner, Nell had started to fuss.
“Oh, baby,” Karma crooned. She shook the toy and nodded at the plate I set before her. “I like my cheese a little brown on top, too.”
“I know.”
“You did not.”
I just smiled mysteriously. Nell broke out in a full-on fit.
“Little babe!” Karma patted her back and smelled her butt, which seemed to pass the test, but Nell wasn’t getting any happier. “I just fed her, but let me try again.”
A ten-minute ordeal of forcing a bottle into her mouth, having her choke and cry, Karma burping her, rocking her from one side of her body to the next—none of it worked.
“Let’s go for a walk, like in Milwaukee,” I suggested.
“Oh, no, that’s okay.”
Nell’s cry sounded madder by the second. “Let’s just try it,” I said, moving toward the door.
“I don’t want to.”
“She’ll love it.”
And then I saw the fear in her eyes.
“I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about us,” Karma said. She was trying really hard to make the explanation sound normal.
“Doesn’t Danny know we had this planned?”
“No.” Her face was stricken, Nell screaming in her ear. “He’s with Dmitri.”
“Have you guys talked about Mississippi?”
“Of course we have.”
I paused. “Karma. I don’t mean to be a jerk, but I have to say something. You’re giving up your whole future for a guy you can’t even be real with.”
“If you want to be my friend, you have to stop doing that,” she said quietly.
“Doing what?”
“Talking bad about Danny. I love him, and it hurts when you say things like that. It makes being your friend really hard.”
“Then why are you even here?”
“Because I’m lonely!”
Nell stuffed her fist into her mouth, almost as if she was soothed by the sound of her mother’s outburst. Karma hugged her baby close. “I’m lonely, and I can’t stay away from you.”
I didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare erase the space between us.
Karma’s posture softened as she closed her eyes. “I don’t know why. I don’t even have an excuse, but I can’t stay away. You make me feel important, and happy, and I don’t know.”
“You are important to me.” I swallowed. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I’m trying to get everything in place so I can come back to Lakefield. Remember?”
“I’m not even that nice to you.”
“You’re everything to me.”
She blinked and sighed the longest sigh possible. My pulse was racing, so it was a good thing when she tipped Nell onto her back in her arms. “She’s asleep.”
<
br /> “Do you want to lay her down in my room for a while?”
“Do you have some pillows I can set up around her?”
I nodded and we tiptoed to my room.
The golden arrow was in the closet, hidden, of course, but still. Nell didn’t wake when Karma eased her onto my comforter, and we crept out of the room.
“Yes!” she exclaimed when we were back at the table. She smashed a high five against my hand. “Sometimes she’s impossible to put down, then all of a sudden she’s out.”
I closed my fingers around her hand. “Dance with me.” She started to pull away, but I held firm. “I know this is crossing the line.” We stood in the middle of the room, candles everywhere. “I want to dance with you alone, right now, no judges, no competitors. Just us.”
Karma hesitated. “You make it sound like this is our last dance or something. We still have to plan your going-away party. You’re coming back in what, three months?” We both seemed happier when she said it.
“We won’t be able to dance at the party.” I placed my other hand on her waist. “And it will be a while after that.” Maybe never.
“I don’t know why you’re only moving for three months. That’s stupid.”
I held her hand high and she spun slowly. “You’ll have to trust me when I tell you that I don’t have a choice.”
“Are you a criminal?”
“No.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“Not really.” I swallowed, because I didn’t feel like lying to her about my past when she was so close to being in my arms.
“If things work out—will you come with me when I get my tattoo?” I asked.
“You’re not serious about that, are you? Lakefield, Wisconsin?”
“I never want to forget this place.” I released her long enough to switch the song to something slower. Acoustic folk. When I took her hand and waist and pressed her against me, the protest that had to be at the tip of her tongue wasn’t spoken. The music played, a love song, and for a while we just danced, touching where we could, me being careful not to cross the line any further than I already had. We understood each other when we danced. Our bodies just fit together.
“You’ll really be gone three months?” she asked.
“Yes.” I eased her in front of me, where she took five steps and seemed really content. She always looked like that when she was dancing. “I’ll call you,” I added.
“This whole idea is weird. No hearts around the Lakefield tat, whatever you do.”
“Just a few?”
She laughed, which was how I always wanted her to be. Happy, in my arms, feeling important. All the places we touched felt amazing. “I’ll give you a letter,” I said. “When I get back, I want you to give it to me. I don’t want to forget anything about our time together.”
“Here I thought it wasn’t possible for this idea to get any weirder. I was wrong.”
“You’ll be leaving me, too, you know.” I rubbed my thumb across her lower back. “Going to school. Following your dreams.”
She swayed with me and didn’t speak, but when she fit her hands behind my neck and rested her cheek against my shoulder, I swear she whispered, “Shhh.”
With a teensy bit of nagging, we’d set a date for his going-away party: Saturday night, two weeks after our dinner, complete with a bonfire and strands of twinkly lights. Peyton helped me decorate.
“Wow, Karma, you’re really going all out.” She stood on a ladder, holding a roll of red streamers that matched her hair.
I finished twirling the strand into a perfect coil, cut the end, and taped it to the corner of the ceiling. The middle hung in a glorious arc. “I just wanted to do something nice for him after everything he’s done for me.”
“When is he leaving?”
“Sixteen days.”
“Wow, you even know the number of days.”
“He’s pretty precise with his timing.” I climbed down and positioned my stepladder a few feet forward. The tape dispenser clattered to the floor. “Do you think it’s weird that Danny refuses to come to the party?” I grabbed the tape and tore four pieces along the serrated edge.
“Not really.” Peyton skipped forward, the ladder scraping the floor. “He hates Aaryn, right? I’d be more surprised if he came.”
“I don’t think he hates him. The fight was a long time ago. They’re over it, I’m sure.”
“Karma.” Peyton tugged the streamer. It stretched to the point of tearing, then relaxed. “They both like you. That’s why Danny doesn’t want to come. Too much testosterone in one room.”
“Aaryn doesn’t like me in that way. He’s just a friend. A really nice guy—you said so yourself.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Don’t act like that.” I tore the streamer until it floated from her grasp. She pretended to be appalled. “Don’t make things awkward between me and Aaryn. Please?”
“You’re the one interpreting it that way.”
“You’re impossible.”
“So are you.”
“Let’s blow up the balloons.” At least with a balloon in her mouth she couldn’t make her observational comments. For a few seconds, the only sound in the studio was rubber expanding with our breaths.
“What’s with all the gray?” Peyton asked, bumping my head with a balloon.
“Aaryn claims it’s his favorite color.” I made a face. “I told him that’s boring and that I was adding red to the room to liven things up.”
“Huh. Weirdo.”
“Right?” My half-blown balloon deflated as Danny’s truck skidded into the driveway. Not again. Not now.
“Speak of the devil,” Peyton mumbled.
Danny stood at the screen door wearing a cut-off tee and jeans with holes in the knees. His hat was cocked off one side of his head. Messy but cute.
“I thought you weren’t coming.” I held my hand to the screen, smiling a little when his touched from the other side.
“Can I come in?”
The hinges creaked as I opened the door. He shuffled inside and crossed his arms as he surveyed the room. “Heh. Guess he’s pretty special.”
“It’s just a few streamers. All the girls are helping.”
He kicked the balloon Peyton had just finished. It made a loud thunk as it skidded across the floor. “At least now I know why you’ve been so busy.”
Peyton eyed me, a balloon in her mouth. I turned and gave Danny a serious look.
“Let’s talk outside.”
I led the way, and to be honest, a little bit of guilt stabbed me. I had been busy, and yeah, I’d been messaging Aaryn about the party, but we hadn’t seen each other since dinner.
Dinner.
I climbed into the truck with a heavy heart. Danny slammed the door and leaned back with a shrug, snorting a little to clear his nose.
“Can you say something?” I sat cross-legged on the seat. The truck smelled like cigarettes and dirty shoes, a bunch of dried mud pieces covering the floor mats. “Come to the party. I want you to be there. I definitely don’t want any of this to be weird.” I slid my hand over his arm. “I love you.”
He fixed his hat, brushing away my touch. “You know how I feel about that guy, yet you insist on doing shit like this for him.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but he’s really been there for me with the scholarship and stuff.” I glanced out the window. Noon already. There was still a lot to do. It was a sunny fall day, gusty winds, but it was really quiet inside the truck. “I don’t want to feel like I’m hiding things. So.”
“Hiding things?”
I turned, sliding my hands over my knees. “I saw Aaryn two weeks ago. He made dinner, and Nell and I stopped by his apartment for a while. Also, I’ve been talking to him about the party, but that’s it. I swear. This doesn’t have to come between us. He’s paying for the party, and everyone at Shining Waters is helping put it together, not just me.”
Danny’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “When did you beco
me such a slut?”
And the air just left me, left me empty, a girl in a lotus pose in a stuffy truck. “I’m not cheating on you.”
“Yeah, like I can believe anything you say.”
“Please come. The party will be fun. We’re having a bonfire, making s’mores, everything. Mom and Leah will be there, Nick, too. I want you there with me.”
Danny chuckled sarcastically. “You don’t need me.” He turned the key. “Get out.”
“Don’t leave mad. We have to trust each other. I love you.”
“Get. Out.”
My foot barely touched gravel before he sped off. I gulped back tears, cutting tears, suffocating tears. He was a jerk, but I couldn’t help feeling that maybe I deserved his anger, a little at least. Maybe if I’d told the truth up front, instead of hiding my plans, he wouldn’t be so upset.
I wiped my face hard and sniffed as I dried my hands on my shirt.
Day 74
The pen left a tiny blue dot on each date as I counted.
Monday. I circled it. Day 90 would fall on a Monday, a regular, stupid Monday to either fail my mission or cheat, depending on if Tek ever got back to me. I’d decided something.
And I wrote the letter.
To Aaryn.
I drew a line through my name because it might change in Blackout, who knows, and because it wasn’t a part of the letter that mattered. Slowly I started over:
To the guy with Lakefield, Wisconsin, tattooed on his arm.
You’re probably wondering why Karma seems to know you.
Look up. Your whole world is here.
Yes. It’s right there with her, the girl who gave you the letter. This letter is all you need to know for now. Don’t skim.
I could try to explain how you lost your memory, but that’s really weird, and probably too confusing to understand right now. I’ll just get to the important part. Wait, are you paying attention? Because if there’s one thing you must not do, not now, not ever, it’s lose her.
You should let her know right now how beautiful she is.
Stop overthinking things. Stop thinking this letter is crazy, and tell her, right now, that you can’t wait to spend time with her.
Look up.
Don’t lose her. Do not lose her.
Ask her to dance with you. Write a new bucket list and cross something off today. Ask her to tell you everything she remembers. She seems like a stranger, but if you wait a week—hell, it might only take a day—I swear you will know how special she is. You cannot lose her now. You will know that she’s worth all the confusion you’re feeling.
Arrows Page 15
