Random. No explanations. I get closer, and he looks straight at me. He straightens and moves away from her that grin back on his face.
“Hot Ash. Where’s your boyfriend?”
“I told you. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“And I have great timing.”
My heart beats faster, and I catch Mandy’s arm pulling her to me, realizing I probably look as flustered as Jordan did when he first saw me just minutes ago. I feel my face getting hot.
“We’re not going to double with you guys. It’s too weird,” I whisper, hoping no one hears me. Especially not one person in particular.
“God, at last!” She cries loudly. “Another sign you’re coming around.”
“Shut up!” I hiss. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Whatever, and for what it’s worth, I’m glad you found your hairbrush. It’s a sign you’re getting back to normal.”
That’s what she thinks.
Colt slides up behind us and puts his hands on both our waists. “Mmm… care to make a sandwich?”
Mandy giggles, but I jump away and start backing up. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
This morning has almost been too much, and I hurry to chemistry, thankful for the chance to hide behind a book and be quiet. Focus on something solid, science, numbers, and not all this crap in my head.
By lunchtime, I still don’t feel like talking or even being at school as I stare at my salad. Mandy’s piled it high with croutons, nuts, dried cranberries, bleu cheese. She considers herself a salad artist. A loud laugh from a table near the front of the room draws my attention, and I see Charlotte and her friends holding their mouths. It’s been so long since I laughed that way. I want to laugh that way again. This misery, this thinking about it all the time is exhausting. It’s wearing me down, and I’d give anything just to let it go, to lose this pressure for good. Instantly a wave of guilt passes through me. How can I even think that?
Mandy’s studying my face. “It must be that wounded kitten thing you’re doing that’s so irresistible,” she says, stabbing a forkful of salad into her mouth.
“What?”
“I’m saying, look at us. In these uniforms, we’re practically the same person. What else could it be?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know. You really don’t.” She stabs more salad. “I’m over here practically stripping trying to get Colt’s attention, and you walk up and it’s like… I don’t even know what. Static cling?”
“It’s not on purpose.” My uniform feels like it’s suffocating me. I just want it off.
“I know! That’s what’s so crazy about it. I’m like right here, ready to go, and it’s all wasted.” She shakes her head, stirring her greens. “I bet you don’t even know who he is.”
I shake my head, looking up at her now. I want to know.
“P.J. Sterling’s son.” She takes a big bite and watches me, waiting. “That’s what I thought. No idea, do you.”
“Nuh uh.”
“P.J. Sterling was the lead developer for practically every office park in Glennville. He has either a house or an apartment in every major city. Flies off to cool stuff like the opening of that new hotel in Japan? The tallest one in the world?”
“I thought it was in one of those Arab countries. Dubai.”
“My point is, he’s like an insider celebrity. Serious big deal in the engineering and development world.”
“So why’s his son here of all places?”
“You’ve got to start listening. I told you. He got expelled, held back. I think this is like his last stop before military school. His dad’s a State grad, and I guess he thinks Creekside’ll teach him values or something.”
That sounded familiar. “How do you even know all this?”
“Dad. They met at a big developers’ dinner, and he was bragging about his pride and joy Shadow Creek. Mayberry U.S.A.”
“So you should be the one to help him find his way around?”
“It’s practically my civic duty.”
I shrug and take a bite of salad. “I’ll do my best to keep out of the way.”
“No. That’ll just make you more interesting. Be easy, do whatever he wants, and then he’ll get bored with you.”
“Seriously? That’s your advice?”
She exhales loudly, as the bell sounds. “No. Hell no. I don’t know.”
“I wasn’t trying to get him to ask me out.”
“And yet he’s so ready to do it anyway.”
“Are you mad at me?”
I watch her collect her things. Her lips tighten, and I know she is. But she shrugs. “Your life’s been screwed up enough this year. Being mad at you’s like kicking a puppy.”
“But you still are.” And in a strange way, I want her to be. I want out of the bubble.
Her eyes flick to mine. “I’m going to the luau with him, and you’re going with Jordan. And whatever happens, happens.”
I pack up my half-eaten salad and follow her to the front. “That’s what I’ve learned.”
After school, Jordan is waiting for me at his mom’s old Corolla. He probably wonders why I never drive my shiny year-old Audi, but I hate being alone in that car. I should probably offer to let him drive it.
When he sees me, a smile warms his face and my stomach tightens. The fact that I warm up at the sight of him when I know it’s going nowhere is more proof of how messed up my brain is.
I speak first. “Hey, you want to take my car Friday night?”
“You too good for the old Corolla now?” He’s still smiling, and my silly stomach is still tight.
“Actually, I kind of like this old antique.”
“Then no way. I’m driving it.” He steps to the side and opens my door. I toss in my bag and hold the back of my short skirt as I sit. I can’t wait to get out of this thing.
My conversation with Mandy has been on my mind all afternoon, the randomness of her dad meeting Colt’s and him ending up here. The way it all just happened by chance, coincidence, no great plan or design. It fits perfectly with my new personal philosophy, with how I want to live now. Only I can’t think of it that way, like it was meant to happen, or that screws it all up.
Jordan slams his door and gives me another smile. He pauses a split second as if he’s considering leaning forward and kissing me, and I quickly look out the window, breaking the moment.
Jordan wants to keep me safe, to help me get through this. But I don’t want to be safe. Safe is a lie. The safest person on the planet can still choke to death or trip over their dog or get cancer. I don’t want that. Dreams and callings get you nowhere, and when you need them most, they disappear.
I want escape and random and chance. And Colt.
* * *
Mom is home when I get there for the first time in a week. I only have a few hours before Jordan picks me up again, and I’d planned to spend them getting ready slowly. I didn’t expect to see my one remaining parent before I left. She’s in the kitchen checking the mail when she looks up and sees me.
“Hey, honey,” she says. “Date tonight?”
“It’s the luau. I’ve got to change and get ready before Jordan gets here.”
She nods and turns back to the mail.
I decide to wear khaki Capri pants and a green tank. We’ll all get one of those cheap pink and blue-flowered leis at the luau, so I’ll look the part somewhat. When I return from my room, Mom walks over and sits beside me on the couch. She’s still in her brown pencil-skirt from work and white blouse, but she’s barefoot and her light-brown hair is down. She’s still pretty, even if she never smiles now.
“So who’s Jordan?” Her voice contains a warmth I haven’t heard in six months, and it irritates me.
“Jordan Adams. He’s a guy from school.”
“Does he live in the neighborhood?”
“Shadow Falls.”
She picks up a magazine and holds it for a split second before putting it
facedown on the coffee table. Dad’s subscription to Healthy Man hasn’t expired yet, and the issues just keep on coming. I decide to call tomorrow and ask them to keep the money, just please stop sending us new copies.
She clears her throat. “I’ll hang out and meet him.”
“It’s okay, Mom. Jordan’s just a friend.” I can’t figure out where this sudden interest in my life is coming from.
“Still—”
“You know, it’s a little late for this.” Fighting with Mom hurts, but it’s nothing compared to the knot twisting in my stomach.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean now you’re the attentive parent?”
“Ashley, you’re being disrespectful.” The edge has returned to her voice, and it’s a sound I’m much more comfortable with than the warmth.
“I’m being honest.”
“You’re still dealing with your emotions. I know. But I intend to meet your date.”
“How can you be so cold?” I hate that my voice breaks when I say it, that tears prick at my eyes.
There is no way in hell I’m crying in front of her. She, who went all stonewall the minute the doctors said six months to live… Who gave up and started working like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
She looks at me and I see a flash of emotion in her eyes. I’d almost forgotten what that looked like on her face, but just as her lips part, the doorbell rings. She closes them again and strides to get it as I hurry to beat her.
“I’ll get it,” she says, reaching in front of me.
Jordan is leaning against the entrance with his hands in his pockets. He’s wearing the lighter jeans I bought him and a Hawaiian-print shirt, and he still looks great. I briefly accept he’ll never be just Jordan to me again.
He straightens up, looking surprised to see my mother. “Uh… hi,” he stammers. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t expect—”
“Hi, Jordan!” I call from the side. I know how my mother’s eyes can make you feel. Like you’re very unwelcome. “I’m ready if you are!”
“I’m Ashley’s mother,” Mom says still blocking us. “You’re very tall. I mean… I’m sorry. Are you on the basketball team?”
“It’s okay,” he smiles in that easy way. “Nah, basketball’s not my thing. I just take after my dad.” He suddenly flushes red as if the word Dad is off-limits at my house.
“Well, Jordan. I hope you don’t think because I’m a single parent, you can stay out all hours.”
“No! Of course not. We’ll be home by—”
“Eleven.” Mom finishes his sentence.
“Eleven,” Jordan smiles. “You got it.”
I’m furious. I know my curfew. “Good night,” I say as I push past her.
“Sorry about that,” I say, as I dig through his mom’s music collection. “I know she can be intimidating. It’s the lawyer in her.”
“I didn’t expect to meet your mom.”
“I didn’t think you would either.”
I’ve found the disk I was looking for. Eurythmics. Missionary Man. I slide the silver plastic in and crank it.
“Very funny.” Jordan says, turning the volume back down.
“If you’re the missionary man, then I’m the original sinner.”
“She’s little… like you.”
“And that’s where the similarities end.”
His eyes slant to me. “Maybe.”
I think of how she’s acted ever since that day in the kitchen. My thumb automatically touches the silver ring that’s grown loose on my finger now. “Definitely.”
* * *
The gym is a blaze of lights and tropical decorations when we walk in the door. Music is loud and thumping, and I can feel the vibration of the bass line in my bones.
“You want to dance?” Jordan shouts at me.
“Let’s walk around some first.”
“You have a pound of thirst?” Jordan frowns. I smile and a bit of the tension from my unpleasant moment with my mother eases. I don’t know how he does it.
“No!” I shout. “Walk around. Walk!” I wiggle my fingers like two legs.
“Oh!” He smiles and nods.
We go to where a few of the junior class officers are standing, sizing up the event. When they see Jordan, their eyebrows rise.
“You’re making an impression,” I yell up at his ear.
He leans toward me smiling. “What?”
I shake my head and we keep walking. I can’t help looking for Mandy.
“I’ll get us some punch,” Jordan says before leaving me for the refreshments table. All the cups have little umbrellas in them, and I watch him go as the warmth of bodies closes in the space where he was. The song ends and for a moment, I can hear.
“Ashley!” It’s Mandy. My heart stops. “Over here!”
I turn, and there he is. Stunning in jeans and a white tee with a blue lei around his neck. Mandy is wearing a Hawaiian-print wrap skirt and halter top, and I’m sure she chose the outfit for its easy access to what’s underneath.
“Hey!” I say as they approach. I try not to notice Colt looking straight at me like he's planning something.
“Where’s the geek?” Mandy looks all around me.
“Punch table.” I try to stay nonchalant under Colt’s continued gaze, but my palms are damp and my heart’s beating at the base of my throat like I’m the first in line at the newest, hottest roller-coaster in town.
“How was the game?” I ask. “You guys sure set up in here fast.”
“I had nothing to do with this. Petra had her minions in place the minute the final buzzer sounded,” Mandy says. “This gym was transformed in a half hour.”
“She’s good,” I agree nodding.
Amber walks up and to my mixture of delight and dismay, she tugs Mandy away leaving me alone with Colt. I’m starting to wonder what’s taking Jordan so long when Mandy’s date steps forward and catches my hand, lacing our fingers. The music starts pounding again, but it’s no match for my heart. Here we go.
“You look great,” he says in my ear. He smells like that spicy cologne, and his breath tickles my neck. My breathing ticks up.
“Thanks,” I try to laugh and pull my hand away casually, but he doesn’t let me.
“Let’s be bad,” he grins, green eyes sparkling.
My stomach flips. I have no idea what he means, but he pulls me toward a dark passage where the bleachers meet the cinder-block gym wall. I don’t resist.
“Stand guard,” he says, slipping into the dark passage and leaning down. I can’t see what he’s doing, but when he straightens up, I notice something’s concealed against his leg. “Walk beside me.”
I walk close to him toward the refreshments table. Everyone is watching the dance floor, and I’m scanning the crowd for Jordan. What happened to him? Just then he catches my eye. He’s out in the crowd dancing with Tina and looking extremely uncomfortable. I can tell he’s trying to get away, but she keeps laughing and holding his arms.
Colt snaps my attention back when he steps in front of me. “Cover me,” he says before leaning down and lightly kissing my lips. Everything stops.
I watch, stunned as he slides a plastic flask around the back of the crystal bowl and quickly pours the contents, a clear liquid, into the red punch. Our bodies conceal what he’s doing from the teachers, but when I glance behind us onto the dance floor, I catch Jordan’s eye. He sees me. Tina’s still got him, but he isn’t smiling. I feel a flash of guilt, but I don’t know why. I told him I don’t care about rules anymore.
In an instant, Colt grabs my arm and pulls us away from the table and back to the small, dark opening between the gym wall and the bleachers. He pulls me in and takes a hit off the plastic flask then hands it to me.
“Last shot. It’s yours.”
Without hesitating, I put it to my mouth and turn it up. It’s more than I expected, and a bit runs down my cheek. The burning liquid makes me cough, and Colt laughs and takes it from me, kis
sing the drip from my face. I turn to meet his mouth, but he’s gone, bending down to cram the now-empty plastic flask into a crack near the floor as I wipe the side of my cheek with my hand. He straightens up and holds my waist, watching. His whole body is tense as we wait, pressed together in the tight space, my back against the wall.
“Wait for it,” he says in my ear. I can see the entire room from where we’re hidden, but my attention is consumed by Colt pressed against me, his hard body, his spicy smell all around, the feel of his lips still on my cheek. I’m not used to drinking, and my head’s already starting to buzz.
“Here goes,” he chuckles, and I watch as a few students sip from their punch cups, jump and then drink again, grinning.
The word starts to spread through the crowd as one kid after another hustles to grab a cup before the faculty advisors realize what’s happened. I feel Colt laugh and he looks down into my face. That’s when he seems to realize what I’ve been acutely aware of for the last several minutes—our bodies pressed together.
“It’s awesome, yeah?” He says. “Adrenaline rush.”
“Yeah,” I breathe. “I guess.”
I’m not sure if he’s going to kiss me until he does. His mouth covers mine, and energy mixes with the alcohol flooding my body. Our tongues slide together, and I grip his shirt so I don’t collapse. The sight of him running on the track fills my mind, and my legs get wobbly. His knee presses forward, parting mine, and I don’t stop him. I don’t stop his hands sliding down to cup my bottom as he lifts me up, putting my back against the wall.
Every single bit of this is wrong, and there’s no way I’m stopping it. The good feeling is back. The sadness is pushed out again, and in its place is this rush, this rush of adrenaline like Colt said. He pulls back and smiles at me. His breath is hot at the base of my neck, and I’m on fire.
“We’re going to start dating now,” he says. “You’re my partner in crime.”
The Truth About Letting Go Page 7
