by Misti Murphy
"What do you need me to do?"
"Well, the gutters on the house need cleaning up, and there are a few loose sheets of iron on the roof here. Plus a heap of odd jobs your Mom wants done. It’s too much for me to manage on my own, but I don’t want to get someone in. What do you say?"
The wrench still clutched to the sump nut, I paused. Dad had never asked for help. Of course, I’d been told to do my chores, and I’d helped with the cars, but that had always been about teaching me how to be an adult, so when I left home I would be able to fend for myself. This was different. He was, in his own way, asking for my help. A fluttery feeling not unlike the one I’d had this morning started in my chest, but the knot in my gut made it unpleasant. Last year, he’d done the same jobs he was describing with a bounce in his step and energy to burn, this year that energy had been replaced with a quiet tiredness. Not that he would admit it.
"How was school?" he asked, interrupting my realization of how mortal he was.
I didn’t know what to say. "There's a new girl."
"Straight to the girls are we? Tell me about her."
I moved the oil tray closer. "There's nothing to tell. She's going out with Zack." The wrench slipped into the black filth pouring from the GTO’s sump. "Damn it."
It wasn’t a big deal, and my outburst was directed more at the idea of Zack with Clo than the disgusting wrench and the state of my shirt.
"You like her, and she's with your best friend. I can see how that could be difficult."
"Yeah, I kind of like her, and besides, he’s a douche." The thick black liquid slowed from a steady stream to a spattering of drops.
"I heard about his shenanigans over the summer. I can't say I'm impressed. Glad to hear you can see that. It isn't the type of man I've raised you to be."
"She’s a nice girl. I don't want to see him hurt her." Even if I hadn’t been attracted to her, I think I would have still been worried about her decision to date Zack.
"Not much you can do. You guys hang in the same group don't you?"
"Yeah." I replaced the nut and slid the oil tray out from under the car.
"I guess you could try to be her friend, and be there when she needs someone. Depends on how much you care."
"Maybe." I stayed under the car, letting the chill of the concrete seep into my muscles. Could I do the friend thing, when I couldn’t manage to talk to the girl? Still, Dad was right. She would struggle to make friends with the other senior girls while she dated Zack.
"Good. Come here."
I pulled myself from under the car, and wiped my hands on a rag Dad tossed to me. The state of my clothes would just be another reason for Mom to yell. Dad opened the door of the car and grabbed the keys. "Your birthday's next week, and it's time you stopped driving my car."
I cocked my head. Was Dad hiding something? There were no other cars in the garage. Dad pressed the keys into my hand. "I expect you to look after her."
"You're giving me the car?" I couldn’t believe he'd hand over the keys to his pride and joy.
Dad clapped me on the shoulder. "Happy birthday. I have my work truck, and you love this old girl more than I do. Don't tell me you don't."
Dad was giving me the GTO. Holy shit, I wanted to hug him, but that wasn’t our style. "Thanks, Dad."
"I guess you better finish that oil change so you can take it for a drive." Dad patted my shoulder, and left me to enjoy my present.
Chapter Four
"I took my father’s advice, not because I wanted to be her friend, or because I wanted to watch Zack make her fall in love with him, but because he had never steered me wrong before. To be honest, being friends with Clo seemed too hard. I couldn’t stop wanting more. I watched her fall in love with Zack, and funnily enough, he seemed to fall in love with her, too."
December 2004
I trekked along the road that led out of town. Mom was always riled up, and Dad would let it slide for a while, before he’d start biting back. I couldn’t remember the last time they hadn’t been yelling at each other about him looking after himself.
For most of my life, they hadn’t argued at all. Now, it was all they did, and more often than not, I would hike the trails to get out of the house.
I adjusted the collar on my jacket, pulling it up over my ears in an attempt to keep the cold at bay, and shoved my hands in my pockets.
"Wait up, Orion." I heard her voice from behind me, before Boulder blew past me in a flurry. The brindle mutt was splattered in mud, his jowls hanging open, and his tongue flopped out the side. He didn’t stop. I turned to wait for Clo to catch up.
"Where are you off to?" she said, breathless, her cheeks rosy from chasing Boulder, and the sting of the bitter wind.
"Nowhere." I shrugged. "I needed some fresh air."
"There’s a storm coming." She looked up at the sky, watching the clouds thicken and grow darker.
"Yeah."
She fell into step beside me. "Boulder’s made me chase him all morning."
I whistled and called the mutt, and he turned and loped in our direction, a huge doggy grin on his face. "Heel boy."
"He likes you," she said, and I shrugged again. One day I would have to talk to her, the shrugging thing was getting old.
"Can you get him to sit for me?"
I stared at the dog. Boulder wagged his tail and sat.
Clo clipped his lead to his collar. "I wish I could do that."
"We should head back." I didn’t want to go home, but it was going to rain. The wind began to whip around us, sending her hair flying in a messy halo. She shivered, and I considered offering her my jacket, but I wouldn’t be able to get the smell of her out of my nose if I did.
Her house was three blocks from mine, and it was pouring when we made it onto her front porch. Thunder rumbled overhead, shaking the ground as she stared up at me and my world tilted on its axis. It would be so easy to kiss her. Breaking eye contact, I contained the urge.
When she opened the door, Boulder threw himself inside, almost knocking her off her feet, and I reached out to catch her. She felt fragile in my arms, like she needed someone bigger than her to protect her. I tried to think of excuses not to let her go when she regained her balance, but her warmth and supple had me tongue tied.
"Thanks." She followed the dog into the house, calling out over her shoulder, "Aren’t you coming?"
I hovered in the doorway while I decided whether to stay. My desire not to go home won, and I followed her into the living room. A TV, bigger than any I’d seen, took up the far wall, and expensive leather couches filled most of the space. Dirt, and oil from working on cars was embedded in my skin, and the idea of leaving smudge marks on the couch made me cringe. Shifting from foot to foot, I shoved my hands in my pockets while she went to the kitchen, shrugging out of her jacket on the way.
She popped her head through the archway. "Do you want a soda?"
"Sure." I trailed behind her.
"You’re always quiet," she said. "We spend so much time together, but I barely know you."
"I’m, just, me."
She handed me a bottle. "Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do, besides hanging out with Zack and Chris?"
With a flick of her wrist, she twisted the lid from her soda and took a sip. My eyes glued to her, I struggled with my own drink. All thumbs, I huffed out a breath and finally got it off. My cheeks heated, and I took a long gulp of my drink only to choke on it. I couldn’t swallow around the lump that formed in my throat when I tried to talk to her. Anyone else and I had no problems, but with her it seemed I was tongue-tied.
"Are you okay?" She set her drink on the counter and moved to thump my back.
"I like cars," I stuttered, not able to deal with the idea of her touching me when I couldn’t do the same.
Her laugh was musical, and I wanted to tell her it was beautiful. "My dad’s teaching me how to fix them. I enjoy working on them. Seeing how they work."
"I don’t know anything about cars.
" She cocked her head to the side. "I love to read, and cook."
"Me too." It might not have been the complete truth, but I could make a mean sandwich. "I mean I like to cook. I’m not much for reading. I kind of suck at English."
"Oh." She tapped a finger to her lips. Perhaps, it had never occurred to her that not everyone was good at English. "Do you need help with our class work?"
"No." Yes. "Maybe." I wished I hadn’t admitted that I wasn’t as smart as her. The way she gazed at me made me want to tell her I was joking, but I needed her help. And the thought of spending more time with her made it easier to ask for help. "If you wouldn’t mind dealing with my dumb ass, then that would be great."
The rain turned into the storm we’d been waiting for. Lightning flashed, brightening up the sky and the house echoed with the sound of thunder.
"Will your parents be wondering where you are?" she asked.
"I don’t think so." They were probably still fighting, or not talking to each other. Either way, it didn’t matter. I was eighteen, and with that had come a lessening of parental control on my life.
"What about your sister?" She opened the pantry, and pulled out a bag of chips.
"She’s at a sleepover."
"Okay then. Do you want to watch a movie?"
I nodded, and followed her, thinking I would have to sit on one of those damn couches, and be worried I was wrecking the leather. Instead, she led me upstairs to her bedroom. Moving about the room, she organized our little picnic and chose a DVD while I stood frozen in the doorway. This was new territory for me, and I leaned against the door, swallowing. Her room was a mess of girly stuff. The walls were covered in posters of actors and boy bands.
I tried to ignore her bed, sitting in the middle of the room, but my gaze kept returning to the lacy white comforter and pillows. It was a bed, nothing more, where she slept, naked. Shaking my head, I hoped to clear the image. Hell, she’d wear pajamas. In my mind, those pajamas didn’t appear. I could still see her naked on the bed. Shit! The last time I’d been unable to reign in my thoughts had been embarrassing enough. There was no way I wanted a repeat performance of that day. Either I had to leave or suck it up and think of this as my sister’s room. Putting one foot in front of the other, I joined her on the bed to watch the movie.
I couldn’t have said what movies we watched. It was both torturous and pleasurable to be that close to her. We talked at times, or she did, and I’d added a word or two, but when I left her house close to midnight, she hugged me and told me she was glad we were friends.
I raced home in the rain, not caring I was getting drenched, or shivering. She was my friend and I’d be damned if I didn’t want to make it more.
Chapter Five
"I couldn’t understand why she loved him, especially when there had been signs he wasn’t the boyfriend he pretended to be. I didn’t know what to do with them. I guess I was too selfish to be willing to upset the balance of my friendship with Clo."
January 2005
"Happy Birthday." I handed Clo her present. It wasn’t much, but after I bought the parts for the GTO, I didn’t have much left to spend. "It’s only something small."
She took it and gave it a squeeze, before tearing into the gold paper. "I’m sure I’ll love it."
I was pretty sure she would. If I’d been her boyfriend, I might have gotten her jewelry, but I knew this would speak to her inner nerd. The paper fluttered to the floor, and she unfurled the dark blue material. "Oh my gosh. You got me the Tardis."
"It’s a poor assimilation, but I didn’t know what else to get you."
"I love it." She bounced. "I’m going to go put it on."
"Hello, Orion." Mrs. Williams smiled as she came out of the study. "Do you know when Zack will be here? We’re ready for dinner."
I shook my head. "Maybe practice ran late."
Fluttering her hand in the air, she headed toward the kitchen. "That’s all right. I’m sure he’ll be here soon."
"I guess." I had no idea if practice, or something else, kept him from being with Clo on her birthday. Wasn’t it time he let her go? So she could be where she was meant to be, with me.
Clo bounded down the stairs, wearing the T-shirt I’d bought her. It hugged her figure, and the blue contrasting against the deep auburn of her hair made her eyes stand out more than usual. My mouth watered as I racked my mind for the right words to tell her how amazing she looked. That wasn’t supposed to happen over a T-shirt. A boring pathetic gift shouldn’t have been the hottest thing I’d seen on her, but it molded to her perfectly.
Mr. Williams glanced at his daughter as he stepped out of his office. "Your mother said dinner was ready."
"What about Zack? He isn’t here yet." Clo pouted.
Mr. Williams stared at me. "This isn’t him?"
"No, Dad. This is—"
"So who are you and what are you doing with my daughter?" The intelligent glint in his gaze as he assessed me made me wonder how many bodies he’d buried in the woods.
"Orion, sir. We’re friends." I concentrated on returning his gaze, and tried not to stare at his feet.
"Friends?"
"Yes, Dad. Orion’s my best friend." Clo tucked her hand into my elbow.
"Right," he drawled, darting a glance between the two of us. "Why don’t you have friends that are girls?" Then he turned on his heel and headed into the dining room, calling over his shoulder, "Dinner is now."
"Your dad is... scary," I whispered, hoping it would come out comical, and not how I felt. "I mean, really scary."
Clo took my arm. "No. He’s a pussy cat."
Mr. Williams stood drumming his fingers on the back of his chair when we entered, and pointed to the one beside him. "Orion, you can sit here and we can have a chat, man-to-man."
Since when had family dinner counted as a birthday party? I nudged her with my knee, and she gave me a tight smile while Mrs. Williams served dinner.
"So you’re not the boyfriend?" Mr. Williams asked.
I was sure we had already established the fact that I wasn’t, but his shrewd gaze seemed to see straight through me. I shifted in my seat. "No sir, I’m not."
"How is it you’re such good friends with my daughter, then?"
"We hang out with the same group of people, and she’s been tutoring me."
"You’re friends with this Zack fellow, who’s dating my daughter?" he interrupted, before I could finish answering his first question.
"You could say that." Not that I would.
"What do you mean?" Mr. Williams asked.
"We grew up together."
"Right." The way he drew that one word out was disconcerting. "Are you in the habit of getting close with your friends’ girlfriends?"
I choked as a lump wedged itself in my throat, and reached for my drink.
"Dad." Clo rolled her eyes. "You know how hard it is for me to make friends. The girls at this school are super cliquey."
He turned his gaze to her. "I just don’t understand why you make friends with these guys who want more than your friendship."
Oh fuck, did he have me pegged. Clo blanched, and then her cheeks heated and she hung her head, her hair cascading to cover her embarrassment.
I cleared my throat. "It’s not like that Mr. Williams. I have a lot of friends who are girls. Clo and I, we just get along really well. That’s all."
He cocked his head to the side, considering my answer. "She does seem to have trouble making friends."
I expected more. I waited for him to continue, but he turned his focus to his dinner, silent for the rest of the meal.
Mrs. Williams seemed to go the opposite way. She filled the silence with random remarks about her day at the spa. Clo kept her head down, and pushed food around her plate without putting any in her mouth.
Mr. Williams pushed his plate away, drawing everyone’s attention to him. "Genevieve, get the cake."
"Clo hasn’t finished dinner, and Zack isn’t here. Shouldn’t we wait?"
> "I’ll be having a talk to that boyfriend of yours." He pointed a finger at Clo.
That was a conversation I wouldn’t want to be at the receiving end of. I glanced at my watch. Mr. Williams turned to his wife. "I have to get back to work. Can we, at least, cut the cake?"
Clo jumped up and cleared the plates, and her mom went into the kitchen, returning with a cake box.
She lifted the lid to reveal a chocolate cake with Happy Birthday scrawled over the top in pink icing. Clo hated chocolate cake. How did they not know that about her? Her dad, in his gruff manner, cared, but he was too busy to spend time with her, and her mom seemed too wrapped up in herself.
My parents drove me crazy. My sister was an annoying brat, but our family dinners were loud and happy, and birthdays were bigger. For Clo, it was the one night she got to have dinner with both her parents. I squeezed her hand under the table.
When her father left, Clo took my hand and led the way to her room. "I’m sorry for making you come. I hoped with you and Zack here, it wouldn’t be so uncomfortable, but I was wrong. It was worse."
I held onto her hand until she pulled away. "This is normal for your family?"
"Every birthday." She sat cross-legged on the bed and patted the spot beside her.
"And the chocolate cake?"
"Every birthday."
She had to be lonely in this big house with parents who were too involved in their own life to even realize who she was. It made it easier to understand why she’d fallen for Zack. His attention, any attention, was more than she got at home. If she let me, I would show her how much she deserved to be loved.
She glanced at the window. "Where do you think he is?"
"I don’t know." Splayed out on the bed beside her, I tugged her down next to me. Zack needed to bow out of the picture instead of stringing her along. She deserved better, but I didn’t want to be the one to make her suspicious. I couldn’t be the one to make her sad. "How about I stay until he shows up?"
"Okay." She snuggled into me, resting her head on my shoulder, and began to flick through TV channels. "How about Vampires?"
