by Tara Kelly
“What did your dad say?” I asked, sitting on his bed.
He stood in front of me, hands in his pockets. “He asked how I was. Told me a few friends called looking for me. That was about it. But it’s the first time he’s spoken to me since court. It’s a step.”
“Are you happy?”
He studied my face for a second. “Yeah, I am.”
“You told your sister I was your girlfriend.”
His eyelashes lowered to the floor. “Is that okay?”
“Only if that’s what I am to you.”
“I’d like that.” He glanced up at me, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t identify. Fear or uncertainty, maybe. At least that was what I felt.
“Me too.”
A little smile played at his lips. “Guess it’s settled, then.”
I fell back on his bed. The sheets felt velvety against my hands. “Your bed smells like you.”
“Imagine that.”
“Come here.” I wrapped my legs around his, pulling him closer. But he wasn’t moving. I let him go.
Justin sat next to me. “I want to take things slow with you, Drea.”
My body tensed at his words. I didn’t feel ready for sex, but I didn’t want to be treated differently either. “Why with me?”
He met my gaze then. “Because I didn’t know the people I had sex with. Not like I know you.”
I looked away and traced patterns against his sheets. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m not ready yet. Does that simplify things?”
“Yes.” I glanced up at him. “Does that mean we can’t mess around anymore?”
“No, it definitely doesn’t mean that.” He smiled and then kissed me.
We fell back onto his bed. His mouth grazed my neck, moving slowly to my earlobe. I wondered if the shivering would go away eventually. It hadn’t yet. I moved my hands under his shirt, pulling it up.
“Can I see your tattoo?” I asked.
He smirked. “You’re slick.”
“What do you mean?”
“Finding a way to get my shirt off without having to ask.” He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside.
My cheeks burned. Considering the only shirtless guys I saw were on TV or the gag calendars Mom’s friends gave her, seeing Justin was pretty exciting.
But I wasn’t expecting silver bars through his nipples. “Whoa. Did that hurt?”
He propped himself up on his elbow. “For a couple seconds, yeah. Then the endorphins kicked in and I didn’t feel much.”
I poked at one of the bars, but tore my hand away for fear I’d hurt him. Just looking at them made me want to cover my own nipples and cringe. Maybe it was different for guys than girls. “Why did you get them?”
“Lydia, our singer, was friends with this guy who ran a tattoo and piercing shop. We weren’t allowed to have visible piercings at school, so she thought nipple piercings would be hot.” He rolled his eyes. “And I don’t know—I’ve grown to like them.”
My fingers ran across his biceps, tracing a tattooed band of black-and-white piano keys. His arms were muscular, but not what Mom referred to as “ripped.” He was thin, but defined. Which I liked. I always thought the whole buff thing was overrated. Most of the guys in my mom’s calendar had bigger boobs than me.
He rolled onto his stomach. A tattoo of a grand staff covered his upper back. A treble and bass clef. Rows of notes. Just like sheet music. Wings sprawled out behind it, stretching across his shoulder blades. They were mostly black but tinged with a little blue.
“It’s the beginning of a song I wrote for my mom. Kind of my tribute to her,” he said.
I ran my hands over the ink, admiring the etchings and shadows. “I love it,” I said. “Maybe you can play it for me sometime.”
He propped himself on his elbow again. “Do you have any?”
“What do you think?” I rolled my eyes.
“I was hoping for an excuse to get your shirt off.”
I wrapped my arms around my chest, and my heart sped up. “The room is kind of light.”
“That generally happens when the sun is out.” He gave me a half smile.
“It’s just I’ve never—um. A guy has never seen—”
“I know.” He brought his face to mine. “It’s okay. Really. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“I want to, but I—”
He cut me off with a kiss. My body relaxed with his touch, and whatever I had to say became unimportant. His fingers circled my breast, and his thumb brushed across my nipple. I sucked in my breath, tangling my tongue with his. My skin felt like it was on fire. I inched my T-shirt up, slowly at first.
He pulled back. “You sure?”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Just don’t laugh at my bra. It’s kind of white and—”
He ran a finger along the curve of my upper lip. “I’m not up on the latest bra trends. You’re safe.”
I let him pull my shirt over my head and stiffened as his eyes skimmed my body.
He pressed his lips to my navel, working his way up until our mouths were inches apart. “Sei bella.”
I stared back at him. He definitely made me feel beautiful. “I want to hear more about Italy.”
His mouth tickled my ear. “You will.”
I ran my hands down his smooth back, breathing him in. His hand inched up my thigh. My eyelashes fluttered and a pressure built inside of me. He hesitated.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered.
He kissed me harder, his fingers sliding over the edge of my underwear. My leg muscles tensed, and my heart felt like it was palpitating. His touch moved higher until I was sure I’d pass out. An indescribable warmth blanketed my nerves.
Everything faded away, even the light streaming across his bed from the high windows. I had no idea being close to another human being could feel this amazing.
I WOKE UP SHIVERING the next morning. Raindrops pelted against the window, and the wind roared outside.
I hadn’t wanted to get out of the car when Justin dropped me home, ten minutes before my midnight curfew. The night had been incredible. I already missed his soft lips and the way his hands felt on my skin. My boyfriend. I had a real boyfriend.
During dinner, Justin and his sister had told me about the concerts they went to in Italy and how easy Milan was to get lost in. They showed me pictures of dusky buildings, cobblestone walkways filled with people, and the most elaborate shopping mall I’d ever seen. I’d be going there someday.
I glanced at my cell phone. It read 11:00, but the muted light in the basement made it seem much earlier. The wind picked up again, sending branches against the house.
I buried my hands inside the sleeves of my thermal and sat in front of my computer. The server dinged with new e-mail.
From: Naomi Quinn
Subject: She waits for the dawn…
I stared at the name and subject until it became a blurry mess. Maybe she wanted to come to practice today after all. The knots in my stomach told me otherwise. I took a deep breath and opened the e-mail.
… to make her grand escape.
Hi Drea,
Where do I even begin? I guess I’ll start with I’m sorry… for everything. In case you haven’t noticed by now, I’m a horrible friend. More trouble than I’m worth. I know. You deserve better, and I think you have it with Justin. That boy is crazy about you. So much so it hurts to look at you guys. I’ve waited my entire life for someone to look at me the way you look at each other. To admire me for some reason, at least. But that’s another story.
Your mom talked to my dad last night. She told him everything. He freaked and told me he was going to turn me in. He thinks I need rehab, which is hilarious. The guy pops Vicodin like it’s candy.
Don’t worry. I’m not mad at you. I’ve been looking for a reason to get out. That final straw. This did it. I’m at Scott’s right now. He’s packing up his shit, and we’re heading south in a couple days. Maybe California. Ma
ybe Vegas. Maybe the moon? I know you think he’s scum, but he’s my ticket out of here, and if you knew how he grew up, you’d understand his anger. I love him, Drea. I really do. People screw up. They make mistakes. I hope that you’ll forgive me someday.
I left your iPod and money on your porch. Count it if you’d like. It’s all there. I don’t know why I took it. I don’t know why I do a lot of things. Out of everyone here, I’m going to miss you the most. Especially your smile. You don’t smile much, but when you do, your entire face glows. I’ve known you a month, but I feel closer to you than anyone else. Making music with you was awesome, and I’m sorry I can’t keep doing it. It was the one thing I really looked forward to. But singers aren’t hard to find. Did you know Roger sings? He’s not bad either, LOL. No joke!
I have a couple favors to ask. Please keep my brother’s drum kit and Lizzie safe. I obviously can’t take either with me. And Dad sure as hell can’t take care of Lizzie. I know she’d be happy with you. If you can’t take her, then please find her a good home. I trust you.
Thank you for everything, Drea. You rock.
Until we meet again. (And we will!)
Naomi,
a.k.a. your pain-in-the-ass friend forever
I read her letter three times, hoping it wasn’t real. Her dad wasn’t supposed to be home last night. Saturday, she’d said. They were going to pick out a car Saturday. Acid crept into my throat. My friend was gone, and it was my fault. Mom didn’t follow through on a lot of things—why this? Why now? I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
My cell phone rang, making me jump. Justin’s name appeared in the tiny screen.
“Hello?”
“I got an e-mail from Naomi,” he said, his voice somber.
I slumped in my chair, my eyes stinging. “It’s my fault. I should’ve stayed home last night.”
“You aren’t why she’s unhappy. Don’t think that way.” His windshield wipers squeaked in the background.
“I thought you had to work.”
“I do, but I’m on lunch. I’m heading to Scott’s.”
“What are you going to do?”
He exhaled into the phone. “I’m going to try and talk to her.”
“But Roger said Scott wants to pound you.”
“If he wants to come at me in broad daylight, he can go for it. I’m not going inside.”
“Take me with you.”
“No, I don’t want you around Scott.”
“I don’t care. She’s my friend too.”
“I’m going to try and get her home, okay?”
I nodded and realized he couldn’t hear me. “Call me as soon as you leave.” My throat was so tight it hurt to breathe.
“I will.” His voice softened. “I promise.”
I tried calling Naomi three times after Justin hung up. Her voice mail greeted me every time. Then I reread her letter.
I should’ve complimented her singing more. Told her how beautiful she was. She had more physical grace than anyone I’d ever known, especially when we jammed. A natural performer. Every movement seemed epic. I should’ve told her the truth about me.
Justin called ten minutes later. He said nobody answered, but the blinds were pulled up. The apartment looked vacant inside.
I ran upstairs, ready to confront Mom. A man’s voice echoed from the kitchen when I opened the basement door. Mom answered him softly. I crept toward the entrance, but stayed behind the wall and listened.
“I used to build houses,” the man said. “It was decent money. But then I fell and messed up my back. And the doc said no more construction or manual labor for me. Well, I don’t have a degree, and the job market in this town is nonexistent. What was I supposed to do?”
“I know,” Mom said. “I’m always struggling to keep my head above water. It’s not easy.”
“I’m not a bad father.” His voice shook. “I tried, you know? She’s always been so self-sufficient. Her brother was always getting in trouble. Teachers called me about him all the time. But not Naomi. She had good grades. No problems.”
I bit my lip to keep from shouting at him. He didn’t try. He made her feel invisible.
Mom gave him one of her vague sympathetic answers. Her voice trembled a little, like it always did when she felt bad. “I got lucky with Drea,” she continued. “I’ve made so many mistakes, dragging her across the country, living out of our pickup, one failed relationship after another. But she’s so practical and levelheaded. It’s not always about what you did or didn’t do. I think Naomi just got involved with the wrong crowd.”
“Do you know anything else about this Scott guy? I’d like to”—something banged against the table—“put his face through a goddamn wall,” her dad said.
“What are you doing, Drea?” Grandma peeked out from her bedroom down the hall. “Don’t eavesdrop on conversations.”
“Drea?” Mom called. “You can come in here, sweetie. It’s okay.”
I rolled my eyes and walked into the kitchen. Naomi’s dad sat at the head of the table, hunched over. His cheeks were sunken and his eyes red rimmed. He glanced up at me for a moment and nodded before staring at his hands.
I pressed my back against the wall, folding and unfolding my arms. Nothing felt comfortable. Nothing felt right.
Mom gave me a weak smile. “There was a bag for you on the porch this morning. It’s on the counter.” She studied my face. “Do you know what happened?”
“She’s with Scott,” I said. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea.”
Mom squinted at me. “Is she at his apartment?”
“No, Justin went over there. They’re gone. She said they were heading south in a couple days.”
Naomi’s dad covered his face. “I don’t know what the hell to do. I reported her as a runaway, but she’s just one of the many. They said it’s tougher once they’ve been missing for forty-eight hours.”
“We’ll help any way we can,” Mom said.
“She wants me to take Lizzie,” I said.
Her father looked up at me from under heavy lids. “The cat? Yeah, take her. I’ll bring her over.”
“Grandma won’t allow it,” Mom said.
“It’s what Naomi wants!” I answered.
She rubbed her eyes, sighing. “Okay, fine. Just put her in the basement for now. We’ll figure something out.”
Naomi’s father stood up suddenly, nearly knocking his mug over. “Thanks for the coffee. I should get back and see if the police called.” He looked at me as he left the kitchen. “I’ll bring the cat by in an hour or so.”
Mom groaned into her hands after he shut the front door behind him. “This is such a mess.”
“It would’ve been fine if you didn’t open your big mouth,” I said.
She looked up at me over the tips of her fingers. “Do you really believe that, Drea? Was Naomi fine before this?”
I focused on the tiled floor. “No.”
“I’m sorry it turned out this way.”
I stared back at her sad brown eyes and her crinkled brow. Despite her flaws, she loved me. And I knew it. “I wish her dad was more like you.”
She walked over and wrapped her arms around me, kissing my forehead. “Why do you say that?”
“She doesn’t think he loves her.”
Mom’s chest deflated against my ear. “I think he does. But some people don’t show it as well as others.”
I thought of Justin’s dad and hugged her tighter.
The rain hadn’t let up by lunch on Monday. Justin and I sat under the roof overhang of the gym, picking at our sandwiches. The fountain looked lonely across the quad. Its vacant surrounding wall gleamed back at us.
We were waiting for Kari. She’d gotten a letter too.
The weekend crawled by. No phone calls or e-mails from Naomi. We’d searched downtown, the parks, and Scott’s apartment again but came up with nothing. Grandma threw such a fit about Lizzie that Justin offered to take her in. Apparently, she slept on his head.
“There’s Roger,” Justin said, standing up.
I followed his gaze and spotted Roger’s lanky frame exiting the main building. If anyone knew where Scott was, he did. Justin ran after him, dodging puddles.
“Hey,” Kari said from the other direction. She dropped her backpack in front of me and sat on top of it.
“Hi.” I tossed my sandwich onto its plastic wrapper.
She scanned my face and looked over her shoulder at Justin and Roger. They were standing close, talking. Neither looked angry, but Roger had his head down.
“Are you and Justin a couple now?” Kari asked.
“Yeah.”
“Ah.” She nodded slowly, eyeing the ground. “So, what did your letter say?”
“A lot. Nothing. Everything.”
“Yeah, that was my reaction.” She looked up at me, lacing her fingers together and twisting her hands. “She’s done this to me since fifth grade. Pisses me off so much. And each time I’m sure I hate her. But then she says or does something that makes me crumble. Mostly, because I know she hates herself more than I ever could.”
“Do you think it’s because her dad ignores her?”
Kari shrugged. “They were closer when she was younger. He started drinking a lot after he lost his construction job. She didn’t talk about it much. But Greg, her brother, was psycho. He chased us with a pocketknife once.”
“She seems to miss him a lot.”
“Yeah, I don’t get it. He was nicer to her when they got older, but he just took off one day. She cried for weeks—and then dyed her hair purple and decided she was over it.”
“Hey,” Justin said, sitting next to me. “Roger hasn’t heard from Naomi since Friday. He claims he didn’t even know what went down. But he says there’s this abandoned house Scott deals out of sometimes. He’s taking me there after school.”
“I’m going too,” I said.
“Me too,” Kari chimed in.
“Not a good idea. Roger said that Scott’s supplier got busted last week. And Scott’s pretty sure he’s next. It’s why he’s hiding out. You guys don’t want to get caught up in that.”
