by Shaila Patel
“So is it my turn at last to get a word in?” I asked.
She blushed. “Sorry. Go ahead.”
“What do your parents do?”
Her face fell. She turned her gaze to the stage, watching her classmates take direction for some kind of acting. A deep grief washed over me.
“Did I say something wrong, Lucky?” I scanned her emotions for some answer but only found a thick sorrow.
She cleared her throat. “No, it’s just that my dad died five years ago. Five years tomorrow actually. Wow.” Her brow furrowed, and her lower lip quivered. With a sharp breath, she continued. “I still feel like I’m being hit by a truck when I’m reminded of him. That’s all.” Her eyes were soft and vulnerable.
“I’m sorry.”
“Please, don’t be.” She cleared her throat a second time. “I’m not upset. You didn’t say anything wrong.” She attempted a smile, but it kept slipping. “Well, my mom works at a travel agency, and my dad was an engineer with the city. He taught me everything I know about power tools, believe it or not.”
“Really? I’d always had a workshop of me own whenever we had a garage. I’ve yet to set one up here, but I’m hoping to this week. Working with my hands relaxes me.” Thinking of her working a jigsaw was anything but relaxing. It was oddly erotic, it was. I smiled.
“Why are you smiling?” She tipped her head to the side. “Don’t tell me you think girls can’t handle a power tool.”
“Me? No! Absolutely they can. Some of the cousins might not be thinking that, but the aunts would soon step in to set them right. Mum’s pretty proud of me, considering all.”
“Something tells me she’d be proud of you no matter what. Now, most Indian parents I know … they’re a little more like control freaks and less like proud-of-anything types. Not all, but most. My mom included.”
“You may be right. We’re a bit more laid back in Ireland. But since Mum’s English, you could say she has her own things that put her knickers in a twist—etiquette and the like.”
“Ooo, too bad none of that’s rubbed off on you.”
The sarcastic lip suited her. And me.
I gasped playfully. “You’re killing me here. Are you always this rude?”
She leaned her head back against the seat. I’d never seen such expressive eyes. She flashed me a brilliant smile, and it took all my control not to lean in and kiss her.
Up on the stage, the teacher yelled, “Action!”
Lucky’s attention went to the stage.
We fell silent to watch what I’d call some poor acting. When the teacher’s critique was over, he had the next group come up. Lucky, thankfully, wasn’t assigned to them.
She turned and watched me until I met her eyes. We talked a bit more of family. She shared some stories about her childhood with her cousin, Sujata. I wondered what it would’ve been like to have a little sister or a female cousin.
“Tell me about Ireland,” she whispered.
Something in her eyes made me want to blurt out my secrets. If Ciarán could hear my thoughts, he would’ve laughed out loud.
I waited until the teacher was absorbed in directing another small group on stage, and then angled my body toward Lucky, only to find her already facing me. She blushed and looked away. I scooted closer.
“Silence, everyone.” The teacher called out.
Lucky slid down in her seat and gave me a devious smile. I sensed a playfulness coming from her. It felt like a school of fish tickling me while I swam. I crouched down and lowered my voice. “You’ll be getting me kicked out.”
“Nah, Mr. Truman has a reputation for letting anyone in. Just don’t talk too loud.”
Smiling, I told her of the greens in the meadows on our land and our family businesses like the pub where we enjoyed raising a pint or two. I told her of my summers in Ireland and with Mum’s parents in Wales. I left out that our house was an estate, that we were royalty, and that I was responsible for a clan of empaths. It wasn’t as if I were lying, but even that small deception of leaving things out ate at me.
A small smile stayed on her face through my stories. Every now and then she’d bite her lip anticipating something funny, drawing my attention. It drove me mad. When she slid closer to hear me, her scent brought me back to Ireland as easily as it had at the Akropolis Kafe when she leaned in. Apparently, I’d been smelling good to her after my shower.
I spoke softer so she’d move even closer.
With our heads only inches apart, it would’ve taken no effort at all to lean in and kiss those lips of hers. Every time she broke into a silent laugh, she’d arch her neck back. I’d follow the lines of her throat down to her cleavage and forget where I’d left off in the telling of things. She probably thought I was a right plonker.
When I stared into those gorgeous eyes of hers, the sweep of black lashes would just about hypnotize me. She had smooth skin, and a freckle or two that would disappear when she laughed. Her skin had to be soft, and I ached to touch it. With no makeup on, her blushes showed up easy enough.
We spent the time sharing bits and pieces of our lives, but I craved more. The bell rang. I sensed her disappointment as she gathered her things, and it matched my own. The only thing I could think of now was when I’d be seeing her again.
Christ. What did all this mean?
“So, I’ll catch up with you before last period, yeah?” I asked. It’d only be for a few minutes before class, but … damn. I ran my hand through my hair. I was almost gone in the head for her.
Her face lit up in a smile. “Okay, but don’t forget, the next question is mine.”
“Greedy girl,” I muttered.
I walked her out, and we ran right into Jack and Chloe leaving study hall. I flashed Jack a smile to rub it in and leaned in close to Lucky to tell her I’d see her later.
Chloe’s eyes narrowed, as did Jack’s. Let them.
I had Lucky, for now.
CHAPTER 12
Lucky
Shiney and I came out of last period English, but the door to Liam and Jack’s English class was still closed. My heart pounded in my chest in anticipation. We waited in the hallway near several posters of American literary giants.
“I could still kill you for pulling that stunt, you know,” I said to Shiney. “You should’ve asked me first.”
“You would’ve said no! Oh, and it was so worth it. If I hadn’t done it, you’d never have seen Liam’s reaction.”
“Yeah, but it was the way you said it, Shiney. You say he likes me, but then why let him think I’m going out with your brother? And what’s with Jack calling it a date? He knows better. It feels like … like, I don’t know. It’s not right. I don’t want to play games.”
“Oh my God, Laxshmi. He skipped study hall and stayed with you—”
“He didn’t know I’d be in there. It was just a coincidence.”
“He didn’t have to come sit with you.” She crossed her arms at me and raised an eyebrow. I just rolled my eyes.
The memory of Liam sitting inches from me in drama warmed my face. I could’ve stayed with him all afternoon. It drove my hormones into a state of frenzy though. He smelled so good, and his dimples unbalanced me more than I already felt. I was so giddy, and even though I’d never been drunk before, I imagined this was what it felt like. He probably thought I was some giggly little ten-year-old.
The classroom door opened, and a surge of anxiety filled my chest. What if Jack came out first and started talking to me? Would that reinforce the idea Jack and I were dating in Liam’s head? Wouldn’t that be good if I needed to stay away from him?
Shiney winked at me and left. Great. Put me in this bind and then bail on me.
They came out, and Jack veered toward me as soon as he saw me. He took my elbow and led me into the empty corner a few feet away. I looked over his shoulder for Liam.
“What the hell, Laxshmi? You said you wanted to keep your distance from Liam, but y
ou spent fifth period with him?”
I frowned. “I know. It’s not like I could help it.” I’d unloaded on Jack during AP Bio, telling him how hard I was crushing on Liam. We’d agreed avoidance was the best option since I didn’t want any drama from my mom. That was probably what motivated him to call it a date. I’d wanted to kill him, but I had to admit, it was sweet he was trying to help.
Jack shook his head and sighed. From over his shoulder, I saw Liam watching me, his jaw clenched.
“Uh, I better go,” I said. “We’re walking home together.”
“Yeah, I figured. He wouldn’t come out to the fields with us.”
I wanted to smile, but it would only aggravate Jack.
He narrowed his eyes. “Just be careful, okay? There’s something about him I don’t trust.” He turned and walked in the opposite direction from Liam.
I joined Liam.
“So. You and Jack?” he asked.
We headed toward our lockers. For a brief moment, he looked vulnerable, like my answer could hurt him. It reminded me of when I’d first seen him on the roof, sitting in the shadows, burdened by some great weight. I didn’t know how to answer. Especially since the impression Shiney’s stunt had left might make it easier to avoid him—and avoid getting hurt.
“Jack’s just … hard to explain.”
We changed the subject to stupid stuff—the faded carpet, the color of the walls, the school mascot, and whether it would ever rain and cool off this heat wave. The awkwardness only grew, deepening the gulf between us. Liam’s hand clenched and unclenched around the strap of his shoulder bag. For the first time, I felt like maybe I’d made up the whole connection between us.
I wanted to curl up in my window seat and mope.
When we were done with our lockers, he nodded toward the stairwell and led the way. When we got to the bottom, he stopped abruptly, and I caught myself on the last step, barely avoiding an awkward collision.
He turned to face me, and I marveled at how his green eyes could be so light and vivid at the same time. I had trouble catching my breath, so I swallowed hard and studied the anti-slip tape at our feet, waiting for him to do or say something. I half imagined he might kiss me, we were so close, but I shook the ridiculous thought out of my head. Thank God this wasn’t the crowded, main stairwell. At least we were alone.
“So you’re going on a date with Jack?”
“No!” I yelled the word a little too quickly, and my gaze snapped to his. So much for using Jack to keep my distance. Who was I kidding? “I’m keeping him company while he—” I stopped myself, not knowing if I should spill the secret Shiney had told me at lunch. “While he brings Shiney to meet a friend from her Bible study group. Since he has to wait for her, she thought I could keep Jack company.” It wasn’t a complete lie.
Liam let out a breath and smiled. Was that relief? Or was it my imagination?
Wait.
Why did he want to know? Could Shiney be right? My mind went into overdrive analyzing possible answers.
“Why do you—?” I lost my nerve. What if I didn’t like the answer? “Are you always this nosy?” I asked instead.
A small frown appeared on his face, tugging his eyebrows together. His eyes looked flat. Was he disappointed?
“Not always. There’s just something … something about you. I just have to know. You started this whole mess, you know, by spying on me.” He smiled.
“Ugh. Not that again.” And just like that, the gulf was gone. I could see it in his eyes.
I play-punched him on his chest, but his firm torso didn’t move an inch. I bounced backward instead, tripping on the step behind me. In a split second, he anchored his foot on the step above, wrapped his arm around my waist, and yanked me forward. I fell against him, then my bag swung into my hip, thumping me even closer.
Where my palms touched his arms, my skin tingled, and I gasped. The sensation spread. It was like being shocked with an unending static charge. He dropped his hands and stared at me, wide-eyed.
Okay, so he feels it too.
After he let go, an emptiness engulfed my chest. I reluctantly slid my hands off his arms, not wanting to sever the connection. Our chests were heaving as if we’d run up ten flights of stairs. I wiggled my fingers, anxious to rid myself of the lingering dizziness. The pulse on his neck was pounding. I averted my gaze to avoid any awkwardness and noticed him flexing his fingers on each hand.
“Sorry. That was some static charge,” he said, breathless. I couldn’t do anything more than stare at my sandals. “Lucky? Are you okay?”
“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine. Just—no, I’m fine.”
Why would there be static on a hot and humid day with no thunderstorm in sight? The intensity of the charge continued to grow and so did the ringing in my ears. Shouldn’t the charge be getting weaker?
“Sorry, just dazed, I guess. Thanks for, um, not letting me fall.”
The stairwell seemed stuffy and getting outside was no better. The heat radiated off the parking lot, and the tree-shaded street beyond beckoned. The branches swayed with a light breeze, and the rustling leaves slowly drowned out the ringing in my ears.
Liam still looked distracted, and I walked beside him, listening to the birds. Something about what happened in the stairwell was both comforting and unnerving, like the smile he’d given me on the roof that first night.
Once in the shade, the oppression lifted. Liam hopped off the curb, startling me, and turned around, excited like a little boy. “My question. Why don’t you like being called Lucky?”
I blew out a breath. “Wow. Um, it seems a little childish now, especially considering Jack and Shiney’s reaction at lunch yesterday.” The truth was kind of underwhelming actually.
“Go on with yourself. Why don’t you tell me anyhow.” He moved out of my way so we could continue walking.
“Well, I used to love Lucky Charms cereal, and I’d pick out all the pink and purple marshmallows before I ever finished the box. Once they were all picked out, I wouldn’t want to eat it anymore, and Mom would yell at me. Dad would just dump the cereal out and buy me a new box—even though she’d get mad, calling it a waste of money.” I cleared my throat, trying not to choke up. “He said he’d do anything for his lucky princess … ”
“Jaysus, Laxshmi. I’m sorry.” He ran his hand down his face. A deep sorrow filled his eyes. “If I’d known it’d be bringing back memories, I … ”
I winced when he called me by my real name. It put a distance between us I didn’t like. Before we crossed the next street, I stepped in front of him. “Liam, please don’t feel bad. I actually don’t mind when you say it. Honest. But just you. I’m not ready for everyone—I mean, I wouldn’t want just anyone calling me that.”
He searched my eyes like he was deciding what to do. Something about this bothered him more than I would’ve expected.
“Please believe me.” My hand was tingling again, and I looked down. I’d absently placed my hand on his forearm. We both looked at his arm.
“Oh. Sorry,” I said.
At the same time that I dropped my arm, he raised his and caught my hand. His thumb caressed my knuckles, and I slowly lifted my eyes to meet his.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. He’s holding my hand.
My ribcage was straining to hold my heart back.
“Each time must have been a painful reminder—”
“No, it wasn’t like that, I swear. Enough time’s passed now.” I squeezed his hand. “Promise me you won’t stop. Please?”
“I’ll not stop then, not unless you want it of me.” Concern lingered on his face, and I felt an overwhelming urge to wrap him in my arms to comfort him.
He casually laced his fingers with mine and led me across the street. I was so giddy it felt like my insides were hopped up on the tingling. I bit my lips together. I needed to rein in my hope that this meant something.
“So,” he said, lightly tugging at my hand, pulling
me closer as we walked. “Would you ever live outside the States?”
“Uh, sure, why not? I think I’d live anywhere so long as I was blissfully happy.”
A smile crossed his lips as he studied me, and my cheeks warmed. I seriously had to get my reactions under control. A jogger and her dog turned the corner, splitting us up in the process.
That had to be a sign.
Keeping control of my reactions when I was close to him was tough enough, but letting go of his hand was excruciating. The emptiness in my chest returned, and I pushed on my sternum.
We strolled the last block in silence. The idea of not seeing him until morning weighed down on me. He didn’t take my hand again. The rejection I felt made me mad at myself. What was I expecting from him? I’d only known him for two days. He was probably being nice because he felt sorry for me.
Maybe he’s just a hand-holder. What if it was a casual friend-thing that guys and girls did in Ireland? I crossed my arms so it wouldn’t look like I was desperately dangling my hand for him to hold. When I made my hands disappear, he pocketed his.
We passed spinning garden pinwheels, the buzz of someone mowing their lawn, and a few recycling bins for tomorrow’s pick up. One of the moms I sometimes babysat for was pulling out of her driveway and waved. I waved back and tried to push away a stinging fear—what if she told Mom I was walking with Liam?
I pushed the anxiety aside. I’d deal with it later.
We stopped at the sidewalk leading to my front porch. Liam used my bag strap to stop and turn me so I’d face him. “Why is it you’re quiet?”
“No reason.”
He chewed on his lower lip and studied my face as if deciding to believe me. Even if he did read me like a book, it wasn’t like I’d be rushing to the front of the line to share these thoughts. He looked down at his feet. “I had fun today.”
It was so unlike him to be shy that I burst into laughter. His head jerked up, and creases deepened on his forehead. I laughed even harder.
