Keep You From Harm

by Debra Doxer

  The remaining students avert their eyes and continue gathering their things. I see Gwen among them. I shake off my uneasiness and head toward the stairs.

  “That’s Lucas Diesel,” Gwen says, slamming her locker closed and falling into step beside me. “Hottest guy I’ve ever seen in real life.” She tics this off on her finger. “Every girl in school wants him.” She tics off another finger. “And he talked to you on your very first day.” She points a finger at me now. “That’s a big deal.”

  “Since you obviously heard the whole thing, you know that he didn’t say a word to me.”

  She shrugs. “But he knows you exist, and he defended you. That’s noteworthy.”

  “So, is he a complete snob or something?” I ask, still bristling at his wordless dismissal of me.

  She pulls out a pack of gum and offers me a stick. I take it to be friendly and to keep her talking. Despite my better judgment, I’m curious about Lucas. “He’s not a snob,” she continues thoughtfully. “He’s just sort of intimidating and unapproachable. And he doesn’t have a girlfriend in case you were wondering.”

  “I wasn’t,” I reply quickly.

  “Uh-huh,” she says, not believing me.

  We step outside into the cool sunshine, and Gwen continues chatting about him. “He takes plenty of girls out, but he never gets serious. He’s a real heartbreaker. If you ever run into a girl crying in the bathroom, it’s probably over him. His only girlfriend that I know of was Sophie Becker. They were on and off all last year. But, they’re off now despite the way she keeps throwing herself at him.”

  “Thanks for sharing, Gwen,” I say dryly. Now that my assumptions about him have basically been confirmed, I’m ready for a subject change. I glance around the half empty parking lot, wondering if Myles has left for home yet.

  Amusement lights in her eyes before she asks, “Do you need a ride?”

  Since I see no sign of Myles, I accept Gwen’s offer. She leads me to an ancient bright red VW Rabbit. Its front fenders are covered in rust, and they appear to be disintegrating where they arch over the tires. She notices my critical appraisal. “It’s not pretty, but it’s transportation.”

  To my surprise, the interior is fairly clean and in much better condition than the shell it’s encased in. I tell Gwen where I live, and she pulls out into traffic.

  “I was the new kid last year,” she says. “Most everyone else, besides us, has lived here all their lives.”

  I look over at her, and I have the feeling she’s telling me that she hasn’t made many friends here.

  “We moved from Manhattan. Can you believe that?” she snorts out a laugh. “Going from Manhattan to here? My dad got a job in Albany and now here I am….stuck in the middle of nowhere. What about you? Moving to a new place for the end of your senior year must seriously suck.”

  I close my eyes and take a breath. “Yeah, it does.” I can feel her glancing from the road to my face, waiting for me to tell my story since she told me hers. When I don’t, she just asks.

  “So, why did you move here?”

  I glance at her. “My mom died. I’m living here with my brother and his family.” I can sense her shock. I can only imagine her reaction if I hadn’t left out all the interesting details.

  “I’m really sorry,” she says softly. “What about your dad?”

  I shrug and look out the window, noticing that we’re approaching Kyle’s neighborhood. “I think he’s dead, too.” The truth is that he lived with Mom and me when I was little. I remember his scruffy hair and the tattoos that ran up and down his arms. He was an addict, too. One day, he left and never came back. Social Services couldn’t track him down the first time my Mom lost custody of me. Over the years, Mom got tired of me asking about him and finally told me that he was probably dead.

  Gwen remains silent after that. Whatever kinship she’d been looking for with me isn’t going exactly as she planned, and I say nothing to reassure her.

  Penelope is playing outside when we pull up to the house.

  “So…I’ll see you on Monday,” Gwen says. It seems like she wants to say more, but she doesn’t.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I tell her. The moment I’m out of the car, Penelope comes running toward me. Her hair is in a purple headband, and she’s wearing a white dress covered in purple flowers.

  “Hi, Raielle,” she yells at me before dissolving into mysterious giggles.

  “Hi there. I heard your favorite color is purple.”

  “No,” she says, shaking her head. “My favorite color is purple and pink.”

  “Oh, sorry. My mistake.”

  “How was your day?” Chloe asks, coming around the side of the house wearing gardening gloves. Penelope runs up to her and lingers close to her.

  “Fine,” I reply, eager to get inside.

  “Who was that driving you home?”

  “Just a girl from school.” My backpack is weighing me down, and my stomach is grumbling with hunger. I smile at them and head for the door. I’m assuming it’s okay to take food from the kitchen although no one has said as much. I find an apple and a soda in the refrigerator, and I bring them down to the basement with me. I sit down on my bed and bite into the crunchy fruit. Back home, I would come home from school, start my homework, and begin making dinner for Mom and me. I always made dinner because she was too tired to do much when she got back from work. She cleaned houses in the morning and in the afternoon she worked part-time in an insurance office.

  The apple gets stuck in my throat when the last image I have of her flashes at me. Before it can unravel me, I quickly try to replace it with another memory, one where she’s happy and smiling. I remember my birthday party again, and I wish I had more memories like that. I put the apple down and pull out my books.

  By the time Chloe calls me upstairs for dinner, I’ve put my memories of my mother away and most of my history assignment is done. We sit down together at the kitchen table just like last night and probably like they do every night. I feel calmer now that I’ve been to school and I know what to expect there. That is until I glance up and notice the tightness around Kyle’s eyes. He catches me looking at him and changes his expression to a neutral smile. Rather than making me feel better, his grin causes my stomach to twist. I wonder if he’s having second thoughts about my being here. I haven’t interacted with him much since I’ve been here, and maybe he’s disappointed in me. If he is, will I be sent back to San Diego or will I be turned over to Social Services here? My appetite is gone, and I begin pushing my food around on my plate.

  “You’re not in the clean plate club,” Penelope says, pointing at my dinner with her fork. “Mom says you have to finish all of it if you want to be in the club. Even if it tastes yucky.”

  Across the table, Kyle laughs. “Your mother doesn’t make any yucky food, Penelope.”

  Chloe doesn’t react. She just keeps eating silently.

  “She makes green beans,” Penelope says. “Those are very yucky.”

  “Those are very good for you,” Kyle tells hers patiently.

  “Do you like green beans, Raielle?” she asks.

  “Sure,” I say, even though I don’t like them much. “They have lots of vitamins.”

  “What’s a vitamins?” she asks, blinking her round eyes at me.

  “It’s good stuff that helps you stay healthy and strong.”

  “Will it help me run really fast?”

  “Yup, and jump really high, too,” I answer, smiling at her questions.

  “I love jumping,” Penelope exclaims. “Can you make me some green beans, Mommy?”

  Chloe’s fork stops on the way to her mouth. “Of course. I can make them tomorrow.”

  “Yeah! Green beans tomorrow.” Penelope claps her hands.

  Chloe and Kyle level expressions of pleased disbelief at me as I try to do a better job of eating my own dinner.

  Once Penelope is taken down from her booster seat and told to go play, I stay in the kitchen and offer to help
Chloe with the dishes. When Kyle stays behind, I know he wants to talk to me.

  “What did you do for lunch today, Raielle?” he asks.

  I put my plate in the sink and turn to him. This question isn’t what I was expecting. “Um, I just got some studying done in the library. I was told that was okay.”

  “What did you eat for lunch?” he asks.

  I feel like I’m in trouble, but I don’t know why. “Um…”

  Beside me, Chloe clears her throat and opens one of the kitchen drawers. She withdraws a cell phone and a five dollar bill. “I was supposed to give these to you this morning before you left. I’m sorry, I forgot.”

  “Oh,” I say, looking at the items in her hand.

  Kyle takes the cell phone from her. “It has texting and a basic phone plan. Actually, the texting is pretty basic, too. So, keep that in mind. The money was supposed to be for lunch today.” The clipped way he describes these items, and the tension in the air, make me believe he’s mad at Chloe for forgetting to give them to me.

  When I don’t reach for the items, Kyle takes my hand and places them in my palm.

  “You don’t have to give me these,” I protest. “I’m going to look for a job.”

  Chloe and Kyle glance at each other. “You don’t need to get a job, Raielle,” Kyle says.

  “But I’ve always had a job.” My gaze travels between them. I’ve just gone from wondering if they want to send me away to being given my first cell phone and the first five dollars I didn’t have to earn myself. As my relief sets in, I can feel my pulse pumping in my ears. I’m surprised to realize how much I didn’t want to be sent away.

  “I know you’ve had to be independent for a long time,” Kyle says. “But things are different now. I want you to concentrate on settling in. I want you to be a kid for a while and see how it feels.”

  I don’t respond. I can’t do what he’s asking. I don’t know the first thing about being a kid. And all I can think about when he says that things are different, is how they used to be. “Have you spoken to the police in San Diego?” I ask. “Do they know any more?”

  Chloe appears uncomfortable and starts washing the dishes. Kyle shakes his head at me. “I called them this morning. They don’t know anything else. But she will be buried tomorrow. They told me that. Would you like to go to church or something to say a prayer for her?”

  I shake my head. A church is the last place I would go if I wanted my mother to hear me.

  On Saturday morning, Chloe leaves to take Penelope to gymnastics. Penelope is beyond excited, leaping around the living room in her pink leggings and purple T-shirt. Once they’re gone, Kyle asks if I want to take a ride to the hardware store with him. I know I should go so I can spend time with him, but I chicken out and beg off. I spend the rest of the morning angry at myself and at the inexplicable nerves that overtake me at the thought of getting to know my own brother. I resolve to say yes next time he asks me to do anything with him.

  Later on, I go outside to the front porch to get some reading done for school. I’ve just cracked open my textbook when a black truck pulls into Myles’s driveway. Lucas Diesel and another guy climb out just as Myles comes out of his house to meet them. They all have on grey uniforms and matching baseball caps.

  I’m thinking about ducking back inside when Myles spots me.

  “Hey, Raielle. Come here for a minute,” he calls, waving me over.

  At this point, I know that retreating into the house would be lame even though it’s my preference. I put my book down and walk across the grass to his yard. I can feel all their eyes on me as I approach.

  “Raielle, these are my buddies, Lucas and Jake.” Myles takes me by the arm and walks me over to them.

  I try not to notice that Lucas is eyeing me with that same inscrutable expression he wore yesterday. In contrast to that, Jake smiles and steps right in front me. “I’m always happy to meet a pretty girl,” he says. He has a dark buzz cut and thick eyebrows that arch appraisingly over his bright green eyes.

  I shake his hand and smile despite the cheesy line.

  “Back off,” Myles says, jokingly pushing Jake away. Then he snaps his fingers in the air. “Wait a minute. I forgot. You already know Lucas. I hear he saved you from a run-in with Hurricane Hailey.”

  I raise my eyebrows at Hailey’s nickname and at the fact that Myles knows what happened in the school hallway. “Actually, I don’t know him. And I didn’t need saving yesterday.” I turn to address Lucas for the first time. He fills out his uniform quite nicely, and it takes all my willpower to keep my eyes on his face. His presence has an impact on me. There’s no denying that. I’ve never felt anything like this, and I’m trying to tamp down on it. I wonder if he feels it, too. If so, he’s giving nothing away. I only hope I’m not either. “But I do appreciate what you did,” I manage to tell him.

  Lucas is about a head taller than I am which means I have to look up more than I normally would to make eye contact with him. Right now, his cool blue eyes are intent on mine. I decide if he ignores me and turns away again, I’m going to give his back an obscene hand gesture along with a piece of my mind. But he doesn’t ignore me. I almost wish he had when his full lips curl into a half smile. Gone is the indifference, replaced by a glint of humor as he takes me in, his eyes roaming over my face and hair. That’s when I realize that my messy curls are piled into a bun on top of my head and I’m wearing one of my mom’s old concert T-shirts I found in my duffle bag, The Cars written in shiny blue block letters, over torn ratty jeans.

  “We’re heading over to baseball practice,” Myles says, pulling my attention back to him. “Do you want to come with us?”

  I continue to ignore the way Lucas is making my heart flutter. “To watch you practice?” I ask Myles.

  He nods. “The season is almost over. You should come. Lots of girls hang out in the bleachers to watch us practice.”

  I chuckle and roll my eyes at him. “As much as I’d love to admire you along with your other groupies, I think I have to wash my hair.”

  Myles feigns shock, placing his hand over his chest, pretending I’ve wounded him. I’m pretty sure I hear Lucas laughing softly under his breath.

  “Your loss,” Myles shrugs, making a miraculous recovery. He grabs a bag from beside the garage door and makes his way to the truck.

  I turn back toward Kyle’s house. “Good to meet you guys,” I call over my shoulder.

  “Raielle.”

  I stop as the familiar voice from yesterday speaking my name sends shivers through me. I swivel my head around to see that both Myles and Jake are in the truck now, but Lucas hasn’t moved. “You’re welcome,” he says.

  I watch, rooted to the spot, as he gets into his truck, backs out of the driveway, and pulls away without ever glancing at me again.

  “Tell me how you’re doing,” Kyle says, lowering himself onto the end of my bed.

  I close my calculus book and place it beside me. “I’m good,” I say, and I think it’s the truth, considering. I spent the day catching up on schoolwork. My calculus teacher gave me some extra work to prepare for a test next week. I spent most of the day completing it.

  “Classes seem okay?” he asks.

  I nod.

  He runs a hand across the back of his neck and seems hesitant. “My father is coming over Monday night for dinner.” He watches me for my reaction.

  I’m actually curious to meet the husband Mom ran away from and never wanted to talk about. “Okay,” I say.

  “Good,” he nods. “He’d like meet you. But I told him that he shouldn’t talk about Angela if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  The truth is I’d like to ask him some questions about why she left. I’d also like to ask Kyle about the tension I’ve felt between him and Chloe. If she made an honest mistake forgetting to give me the phone and the money, why was he angry with her last night? Unless, it wasn’t a mistake. Unless he thinks she did it purposely because she’s not okay with having me here. But I won
’t ask him because I don’t really want to know the answer.

  Sunday passes quickly. The Dean family wants to picnic in the park, and they tell me that my presence is requested. Since I decided to say yes to everything they invite me to do, I go. But once I’m there, I mostly sit quietly, unsure of what to say. They don’t seem to notice as they enjoy the sunny afternoon, watching as Penelope runs after other kids and any dogs that happen by. I’ve noticed that she can’t sit for more than a few minutes. I guess that’s typical for a three-year-old. Even though I feel like a trespasser among them, they don’t act as though I am, and by the end of the afternoon, I’m surprised to find that I’m enjoying myself.

  But come Monday morning, I’m relieved to be leaving for school. I’ve never been with a family that spends so much time together. I understand it’s a good thing and that it’s probably normal, but I’m used to being alone. The constant company is overwhelming and by Sunday night, it felt stifling.

  I shoulder my backpack and stop by the kitchen to say goodbye to Chloe and Penelope. Kyle has a long commute into Albany. He’s usually gone before I make an appearance upstairs in the morning.

  “Bye, Raielle,” Penelope tells me. She has milk dripping down her chin and there are Cheerios all over the table and on the floor below her chair. I wonder how hard it could be to get the Cheerios into her mouth.

  Chloe smiles at me and hands me an insulated blue lunch bag with a smiling Dora character on the front. I arch a brow at her.

  “I told Mommy you could use that one,” Penelope says. “I use the purple one.”

  “You realize I’m in high school, right?” I ask Chloe.

  Chloe shrugs a shoulder. “It’s all I’ve got. I can buy some brown bags next week if you want. I packed you a turkey sandwich, an apple, some cookies, and a juice box.”

  I thank her and chuckle to myself as I place the bag in my backpack. When I look back at Penelope, she raises her spoon of milky cereal, bypasses her mouth, and dumps it onto the floor. When she’s see me watching, she dissolves into giggles.