His easy laugh offended me.
“It’s not funny,” I said.
“No, not funny. Just stupid. Why would I care what people think? I want to be with you. It’s nobody’s business.”
The ringing in my head drowned out all his words except, “I want to be with you.” Did he mean that literally, as in be with me in this car at this moment? Or be with me as in boyfriend-girlfriend?
I struggled to insert the key in the ignition. I winced to think the jingling of the keys gave away my nerves.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but I needed time to clear my head after the meeting at the police station. This hour was for Cody alone. I drove down El Camino.
“You turned left out of the parking lot, so I can tell we’re headed south. Are you kidnapping me and taking me to Albuquerque?”
“Funny, but no. We’re going to Santa Rita Park. Won’t be too cold for you?”
“Not a bit,” he said.
When we arrived, Cody waited by the passenger side of the car until I could offer my elbow. He slipped his hand in the crook of my arm and I led him to the paved trail that ran parallel to the Animas River. The trail was busy with cyclists, runners, and walkers—but definitely not other high-school students, who stayed closer to campus.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” he said.
“I’m not. Why would I be?” Charming, Arlie. Start out on the defensive.
“Things didn’t exactly end on a high note for us at the dance.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I spotted a bench and suggested we sit. Cody stretched his long legs. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and put his hands in his pockets. Despite the chill in the air, I perspired profusely. I unwound my scarf and wiped the back of my neck. Had I forgotten my deodorant in my rush to get to the police station? Without being able to taste, I didn’t even know if I had bad breath. Breathe, Arlie.
“Mo explained—” he began.
“Mo shouldn’t have explained,” I interrupted him. “She means well, but she can’t know exactly how I feel.”
“About your scar?”
“About everything.”
I stared at the muddy river. Snowmelt from the mountains had churned up the river floor. In six weeks or so, the river would be at its peak flow, and rafters and kayakers would clamber into their wet suits to take advantage. I’d always wanted to try rafting, but Mom and I couldn’t justify the expense. Maybe Frank and I could try this year.
“The river’s up, huh?” Cody cocked his head slightly. “Sounds like a murmur. A little softer than the sound of the wind.”
“Yes, it’s running red. Lots of silt.”
Cody couldn’t see the yellow-green glow of the cottonwood trees starting to bud. He couldn’t see the cloudless sky, a blue so intense it made every other color seem washed out and drab. I couldn’t imagine being blind, not being able to experience the expansive palette in nature. Moving us to Colorado was one thing Mom did right.
“It’s beautiful out today,” I said. “Just incredible.”
“Yep, incredible.” Cody took one hand out of his pocket and laid it on my thigh, palm up. I accepted his invitation and looped my fingers through his. The fleece of his sweatshirt had warmed them. His hand wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t as smooth as mine. The difference made it easy to feel where our fingers and palms touched.
Sitting there in such a perfect moment, I swore to myself I’d gladly do without taste and smell to feel the warmth of his hand, the pressure of his fingers; to witness the split second before his lips opened into a smile; to hear his voice in choral practice and imagine the words he sang were only for me.
“Surely you know that your scar doesn’t bother me,” he said.
“It’s so much more than that. My mom … The way we lived …”
“None of it matters.”
“But you’re wrong. Do you know where I was this morning? At the police station because my insane, drug-dealer murderer stepfather is in Durango looking for me.”
“Your stepdad killed someone?”
I’d stupidly offered up the details I’d planned to keep from Cody, the details that would surely drive him away. Like some sort of perverse self-sabotage. Still, he deserved to know everything, no matter what the outcome was.
“Lloyd killed three people. They died when the meth lab in our apartment blew up.”
“Your scar.”
I touched the rippled, taut skin on my left cheek. “Yeah. I was there when it blew.”
“How’d you survive?” Cody’s voice trembled with worry even though we were safe, sitting in little Durango and years away from that horror.
I told him about Rosa, the woman I’d considered a surrogate grandmother. How she’d tried to protect me from Lloyd. How she ran into the apartment without regard for her own safety. How Rosa’s body absorbed the fire and blast that should’ve ended my life.
“Jesus, I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine.”
I stopped myself from explaining more. Really, what else could I say? Mom and Lloyd had broken the law. They’d hurt people. Even though I wasn’t technically guilty by association, I bore a stain of guilt that would never wear off.
“I’m going to say it again, Arlie. None of this matters.”
How could he sit there and sound so assured?
“Everything matters in high school. The kids judge me for my past. And they’ll judge you too.”
“You’re not a victim. You shouldn’t act like one.”
I pulled back my hand. “I’ve never been a victim. I’m a survivor and I’m stronger than most.”
“Exactly. Then what they think of you—or us—shouldn’t matter.”
His argumentative tone drove home the point. If I backed down—didn’t allow myself a normal relationship—I was giving others power over my life. That was the last thing I wanted to do. Especially where Cody was concerned.
“Now, are you going to give me back your hand or what?”
He wanted to be with me, and I’d done my best to talk him out of it. Maybe it was time to believe him.
“What happens next?” I asked.
“We’ll figure it out as we go along. Just be honest with me. And don’t run away again.”
“If I ran away, you’d have a hard time getting back to school.”
“I meant don’t run away ever.”
I’d always looked to some arbitrary point in the future that would magically make my life perfect. Just wait until I’m eighteen and on my own. Just wait until I can leave Durango and start a new life. But my life had started—right here next to the river on a chilly April day with Cody’s hand in mine.
“So … are you going to help me or what?” he asked.
“Help you how?”
“I want to kiss you, but if you won’t let me touch your face, I’m going to aim and miss and then get all embarrassed. You’re going to have to kiss me first.”
I took a moment to let his words sink in and summon my courage. I grabbed both his hands and placed them against my cheeks, against my scar.
“It’s okay,” I whispered as his fingertips traced the rippled, taut skin. Then I pressed my lips against his for the first time.
Mint. I tasted mint. “Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Yeah, exactly.”
“Not that. I mean, yes, the kiss was great, but I tasted you.”
I pushed the hood off Cody’s head, grabbed the back of his neck, and pulled him toward me. I was hungrier for this second kiss. A joyful, fearless kiss. Nothing else mattered but the softness of those lips, the way they parted and closed around mine, the delicate rush of breath.
He pulled away sooner than I wanted him to. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you mean you tasted me?”
“Something minty.” I leaned my forehead against his. “Can you believe it?”
“I had a peppermint Life Saver in the car. I was hoping …”
&n
bsp; “Yeah. Me too.”
I giggled. I hadn’t giggled in … I couldn’t remember how long. How could I suddenly taste again? Maybe the doctors had been right that it had all been in my head. Frank had researched brain chemistry and trauma. He’d found that our brains could induce changes in our physical bodies in reaction to both positive and negative events. If the fire had taken my senses away, maybe finally being this incredibly happy could bring them back.
“You should probably see if it was a fluke or if you can still taste me.” He kissed me again slowly, then nipped at my bottom lip before pulling away.
“Yep, minty fresh,” I whispered. “But we need to know for sure.”
“Anything you want.” He moved in for another kiss, but I pulled away.
“You mentioned you wanted to get a burger on the way home. Well, now I’m going to join you.”
Mo’s donkey laugh never sounded so good. To be able to share my incredible news with my best friend was almost as good as Cody’s kiss and the amazing burger and fries I’d eaten—well, almost.
“Holy shit, Arlie!”
“I know! I know!”
We jumped and twirled, our arms tangled in a celebratory dance. Only when we grew breathless did we drop to the grass, sucking in air as we continued to laugh.
“What do you want to eat next?” Mo asked. “Ice cream, maybe. Or something chocolate. Chocolate chip cookies! That’s it.”
“I’ll explode if I eat another thing. I’m not worried this is a fluke. We have plenty of time to pig out together.”
“Then tell me more about Cody.”
Twirling around with Mo after eating a greasy burger upset my stomach. Kissing Cody definitely added to it. The physical symptoms of love were killer. My heart beat wildly, my head pounded, my gut twisted and churned.
I unbuttoned my jeans and laid my hands across my belly. “I feel sick. I can’t take this stress.”
“You’ve dealt with a lot more stress than this,” Mo said. “Now tell me about the kiss.”
“Kisses. Plural. And they defy description.”
“Cop out.”
Mo didn’t press me further. She sensed when I needed to keep my world small. Giving Mo a play-by-play would feel like releasing dandelion fuzz into the wind. I’d never get back the magic of this second. Plus, she knew I’d confide in her later. We’d likely be lying on my bed in the dark, listening to our favorite music. She’d ask me to describe the moment over and over, and I’d oblige.
“You going to tell Frank?”
“Not yet. First, he needs to hear about my taste and smell coming back. And we probably need to talk about Lloyd. That problem won’t go away just because I finally got the courage to kiss Cody.”
I’d kissed Cody. It would take a while for that sink in. It wasn’t something that needed analyzing now. I just wanted to feel the topsy-turvy, nausea-inducing joy that came from finally connecting with someone.
“Do you need a ride, or is Frank still insisting on picking you up?” Mo’s grin couldn’t get any wider and that somehow intensified my happiness.
“I’m meeting him by the ball fields. You go on,” I said. “I promise we’ll talk later.”
After sharing something so important, it pained me to lie to Mo, but I had somewhere to go and I didn’t want her to try to talk me out of it.
CHAPTER 22
I gave Mo a few minutes to exit the school parking lot before I jogged up to the bus stop and caught the North Main trolley to the Animas View Motel. I took the stairs two treads at time to Dora’s second-floor room.
Breathless, I pounded on the door. She opened it, leaving the chain on until she recognized my face.
“Arlie? Is there anything wrong?”
“Nope. For the first time in a long while, something is very right.” I didn’t know at what point I had decided to tell Dora about Cody, but once the thought took hold, there was no going home before I did. Even if that meant defying Frank’s edict that I not go anywhere alone until Lloyd was apprehended.
“You’ve got me curious. Come in,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.”
“I have a couple of reasons to smile today. And I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather share the news with than you.” The tremble in my voice surprised me. It had been a big day, one I now found difficult to describe. “It’s all so crazy … it’s going to sound crazy …”
“I’m an old woman. Spit it out before I grow any older.”
“I can taste again … and I kissed a guy. Well, first I kissed him and then I could taste. Really he kissed me … well, technically we kissed each other.” I was right; it sounded crazy, but I managed to convey the important details.
Dora brought her hands together in a loud clap. Her laughter bubbled over both of us.
“Oh, Arlie. I don’t know what to be happier about.”
When she hugged me, I lifted her off the ground. “You don’t have to decide,” I said. “I can’t myself.”
She asked for details, just as Mo had, but for some reason, I freely gave them to Dora when I hadn’t to Mo. I explained about the choral group and being with Cody at the dance and my fear of letting him touch my scar.
“For a second I was afraid I wouldn’t know how to kiss him correctly, but it didn’t matter. It all happened so naturally, and once it was happening, I couldn’t think at all.”
“You let him touch your face!” She brought her own palms to her cheeks.
“I did.”
“And it didn’t kill you,” she added. “And he didn’t run away.”
No, it hadn’t and he hadn’t.
Over the past few years, I’d fought off the advances of drug addicts; I’d counseled Mom about her choices in boyfriends; and I’d driven her to Planned Parenthood for two abortions. Sitting here with Dora, though, I gushed like any girl who’d just had her first kiss. She made it easier for me to feel like a normal kid, just as Rosa always had.
“And you can taste? How?”
“I wish I could tell you. As soon as our lips met, I tasted him. I tasted mint. Maybe it doesn’t matter how.”
“That must’ve been some kiss.” She winked. “I bet you’re ready for a follow-up. Yes?”
I didn’t mind her teasing. I welcomed it. Sitting with a woman I wished had been my mother or my grandmother. A woman I’d naturally share a milestone with, instead of sharing with a therapist or an uncle first. It occurred to me that even if Mom were still alive, I’d have probably gone to Dora first. Well, after Mo.
“I hope this means you’ll be eating. A lot,” Dora said. “All these years, I’ve worried so much that you didn’t get enough to eat.”
I hadn’t become this thin on purpose. Eating truly had been torturous. Every day I’d had to pump myself up. “Eat to live,” I’d say over and over again.
“I’m certain Mo is going to make me try anything and everything with chocolate in it,” I said. “And I bet Frank will help me overdose on fried food.”
“Eat a vegetable now and then, okay?”
My phone rang. I hated that someone was interrupting this joyful time with Dora. My stomach flipped when I saw that the number was Mo’s.
“I have to take this,” I said.
Dora motioned that she’d be outside having a smoke. I nodded and gestured that I’d be right out.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked.
“I could ask you the same,” she said.
“I don’t understand.”
“I couldn’t stand waiting until tonight to hear more about you and Cody, so I dropped by the trailer. You could imagine how surprised Frank was that you weren’t with me.”
“Oh, shit …”
“Yeah, that’s an understatement.”
“I can explain,” I said.
“To me or to Frank?”
“To both.”
“Well, I’m parked outside,” she said. “I think I calmed down Frank enough that he won’t kill you later.”
I
ended the call just as Dora walked back in. “Your friend is out in the parking lot. Were you expecting her?”
“Definitely not.” I kissed Dora on the cheek and left.
I got in Mo’s car. She made no move to start the engine.
“Frank’s literally freaking out. I didn’t realize the seriousness of your stepdad being in town until today. Why would you do something that could make Frank feel worse?”
I hadn’t thought about his feelings. Only getting to Dora as quickly as I could. Especially since I’d ignored her for a while.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell Dora about Cody … about being able to taste again.”
“Why is this woman even important to you? I thought you’d be glad to leave this all behind.”
Anger replaced any remorse I felt for scaring Mo and Frank. I’d listened to both of them remind me over and over how great my new life was and how I should be more thankful that things had been different since Mom’s death.
“You and Frank almost seem happy that she died … like it was my big break.”
“I’m not happy she died, but I’d be lying if I said you weren’t better off now.”
Her words hit like a stinging slap. “Better off?”
“If she hadn’t died, what would have happened? Would you have gone back to high school or met Cody? What about when you turned eighteen … would you have applied to college or stayed behind to continue taking care of her?”
I hated that I knew the answers and I hated Mo for knowing them too. Tears traced my cheeks. She reached over and wiped them as they dropped off my chin.
“It’s been hard being your friend.” Mo looked out the windshield. Her chin quivered as she spoke. “I worried about you every day. Worried that you lived in a motel and didn’t go to school. Worried that one of your mom’s friends might hurt you, but when Frank arrived, I could breathe again. And it felt great. I’m not sorry for that.”
“Then why didn’t you stop being my friend?”
“That’s not how friendship works, dummy. I thought you were interesting and smart and real. I wanted to hang out with you. I still do.”
Through the years I’d often thought of myself as Mo’s charity case—a pet project to keep her occupied, or even a surrogate sister since hers had died so young. I rarely allowed myself to think I brought something to our relationship.
Burn Girl Page 14
