by Krystal Wade
The Charmings roasted marshmallows with Haley, then watched movies in their home theater. They were nice, relaxing, happy things that good families do, that loving families do, that families not like Haley’s do.
Somehow, she and Chris made it back up to his room, tucked themselves into his little nook, each under a blanket, laughing at something stupid he said.
“I’ve got an idea.” Kicking off his shoes, Chris stretched his long legs and cracked his fingers. “How about we play a game of Truth or Dare—without the Dare?”
How could this guy be the same guy who kids accused of drunk driving, or crashing people’s cars, of burning fields? So innocent. Funny. Young. She laughed. “You go first.”
Smiling, he asked, “Why do you always look caught up in a dream at work?”
Simple question. Simple answer. “I’ve spent my entire life around candles, around smells, around the knowledge of what burning candles do for people. So, of course, it’s always been my dream to operate Berkshires, especially village stores where it’s Christmas all the time, where any smell that reminds a person of a special time in their life can be found on our shelves, where magical smiles collide with emotions and spark those memories.”
And because Mom lives inside those walls.
“So, you’re saying you love the store?”
Haley rested her head on the beanbag, staring at Chris while a candle flickering on his nightstand nearby caught at the edge of her vision. “Thought it was my turn?”
Chris waved dismissively. “By all means, ask away.”
“Why do you hang out with the jerks from the Academy when you’re clearly nothing like them?”
He stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath, then met her eyes and relaxed. “You remember when I asked you how you do it? How you make people like you?”
“Yes, and it’s still my turn!”
“Not cheating. I swear. It’s just that my father has that same ability. I don’t. I don’t measure up to you or him, not even an ounce. And yet everyone expects that I’ll take over Berkshires one day, but I’m not sure that’s what I want.”
Glancing away, Chris clammed up again, like maybe this was too difficult to talk about, like maybe she pressed him too hard, too fast. Maybe she wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.
“We can talk about something else if you want.”
“No.” He turned back to her, cheeks flushed. “It’s just… embarrassing. I spend more time doing what I think people expect of me than doing what I want. People expect me to be popular at DA, so I hang out with pieces of shit, I listen to them, and they all make up ludicrous stories about me that I don’t bother rebutting. This is what’s expected of a rich boy who has everything, right?”
“What do you want?”
But it wasn’t her turn to ask, and Chris wagged a finger at her. “My turn. Why do you hate me?”
Heat crept up Haley’s neck, up her jaw, into her scalp, and looking up at him now, at the light scruff on his face, those bold blue eyes, the innocence, she said, “I don’t know.”
Chris cupped her cheek, fingertips at her temple, behind her ear, and rubbed his thumb across Haley’s cheekbone, so warm, so personal, confident, nice. “Could you figure it out and let me know?”
Butterflies got caught up in a tornado, whipping around Haley’s stomach and chest. He stared at her lips, licking his. He was going to kiss her. Chris freaking Charming, the boy who had everything she used to but more, was going to kiss her.
“Knock, knock,” Mr. Charming said, pushing open the door and driving an invisible divider between Chris and Haley. “Oh, I apologize. Your mother and I are heading out for the evening.
Time for Haley to leave, too. No way could she handle any more embarrassment, desire, or awkward moments today. “I should go.”
“Don’t leave on our account, Haley.”
“Thank you, Mr. Charming, but I need to get back before my Dad. I’ve had a lot of fun tonight, and it means so much to me that you’ve allowed me this—”
“She’s trying to say we’re awesome, isn’t she, Chris?”
Chris grinned and slipped an arm around Haley’s waist, leading her to the door. “Yes, Dad. I believe she is. I’m going to follow her home and make sure she arrives safely in that hunk of junk.”
Mr. Charming gripped her shoulder. “See you soon, Haley?”
“Yes, sir.”
The whole drive home, Haley couldn’t get the remnants of Chris’s touch off her skin, and she didn’t want to. She bit her lip and pinched her arm. Even as Chris walked Haley to her door, she couldn’t let that lip go.
“I’m home safe.”
Chris moved closer, trapping Haley between him and the siding. He placed his hands on either side of her head and whispered, “You’re right. You’re home safe,” then winked and took off into the night.
Goodnight, Chris Charming.
See you soon.
aley stumbled to her room in a happy daze and changed into a pair of cotton pajamas, ignoring the emptiness of the house, the eeriness that came from the lack of TV noises and the missing smell of alcohol. Dad probably traded drinking at home for drinking in bars. Lots of alcoholics drank in bars. Lots of them abandoned their families.
Not worrying about that right now!
She twirled and fell backward onto the bed, right onto another note. Thank yous were in order for Amanda, for all the heart-to-hearts she’d had with Jocelyn. Clearly, the girl had ways of getting through to Joce. And, come to think of it, maybe she had ways of getting through to Haley, too. What did Amanda suggest? Tell Joce everything about that night? Maybe Haley should come clean about Dad and the abuse he enjoyed doling out.
Not yet.
Haley wasn’t ready for that big of a step. What if the truth pushed Joce away, or even further than she already was?
Tearing into the note, Haley’s happiness dwindled down a couple notches. Something was different. Joce’s handwriting pushed hard through the paper, the red letters formed with sloppier, harsh lines.
“Glad you had fun, but I did you a favor and you didn’t follow through. What gives?”
What gives?
A drop of something red sat mysteriously next to the question mark. Did Joce break the pen in a rage? And what the hell was she mad about?
“Jocelyn?” Haley folded the note and ran around the house. Time to ask point blank what’s up. Haley opened every door, checked the den, the kitchen, the cold concrete basement, and Dad’s room. “Hello? Jocelyn? If you’re here, come out. Please?”
Silence.
Joce wasn’t home.
Heart pounding, Haley headed back toward her room for the phone but stopped at the kitchen. There was a note on the dry-erase board: Out with Amanda.
She took a deep breath and laughed at herself.
Got ur note. We need 2 talk.
Haley sat on the edge of her squeaky mattress and chewed her nails while waiting for a return text message. Dad still wasn’t home. Joce acted out of character all day, and now she was out late on a school night.
Maybe Haley should call the police and report Dad’s disappearance? But then, Joce had just seen him last night. Had Dad even been gone twenty-four hours?
Haley’s phone vibrated, jolting her right out of her thoughts. She screamed and dropped the cell, cursing herself for her stupidity. Chris’s name flashed on the cracked display.
Perfect. “Hello?”
“You okay?” Chris wheezed the question, almost like he couldn’t catch his breath but had to speak, sirens blaring and people shouting in the background.
“Yeah, fine. You? What’s that noise?” Haley squeezed the edge of the bed for support, the sounds carrying her back to the car accident, to the metallic smell of blood, to the flashing lights of the fire trucks and ambulances.
“Saw someone running from the house when I got home. The alarms were going off, so I called the police.” A door slammed, muffling all the noises, and Chris said, “That’s better.
Sitting in my car now.”
“Burglars?” Breathe in. Breathe out. The sound of sirens brought Haley back to the accident. Mom’s hair floating around her head. Hanging upside down. Stuck in the seatbelt. Haley’s ears ringing. “Anything missing?”
“The police said whoever it was never made it inside. They’re just checking the property to make sure he isn’t lurking, then they’re taking off. I think they’re on edge because they still don’t have leads on who murdered the cable guy.”
Lurking. Watching. Like the feeling Haley always got and Dad always knowing what she was up to.
“Haley, you’re forgetting to breathe again. It’s easy, just inhale then exhale. Please don’t hyperventilate on me.”
Digging fingers into the springy mattress, she said, “Chris?”
“She breathes!”
“Not joking. Just… can you listen for one second?” Haley saw her reflection in the dresser mirror, wide-eyed, pale, and restless. She couldn’t believe she was about to tell him— “I haven’t seen my dad since early Saturday.”
An awkward silence stretched and grew between them, a silence that allowed the muffled sounds of police to filter through the phone and make Haley even more nervous.
“Are you telling me you think your dad tried breaking into my house?”
Oh God. What was she trying to tell him? How could he get her to say anything? “No. I don’t know. He seems to know what I’m up to most of the time, without me telling him. But, no, I don’t think he’d do that. It’s just… he’s not perfect, Chris, but this is rare for him.”
“I’ll talk to my dad to see what he thinks we should do about yours.”
We. Such an odd word in Haley’s life, the girl always alone, always figuring out problems with little help and carrying weights too heavy for one person to carry. “Thanks.”
“I have to go. Someone’s knocking on my window and giving me the evil eye. Guess the cops have more questions, after all, hopefully not about the Callahan’s because that was not me. I was just the unlucky bastard who called that fire in. Hope they don’t think the rumors are related to this… dammit, they probably are.” He sighed, giving Haley time to process what he was doing: revealing himself, his true self to her.
Danger. Danger. Danger.
“Do you want me to come over when the heat is gone?” Laughing, Chris said, “To make sure you’re safe, of course, from the murderer slash lunatic on the loose.”
“I’ll be okay.” Better if he wasn’t here. “No need for a knight in shining armor.”
“I was so hoping to don my shining armor, too. Even rented a horse.”
Haley smiled and barely recognized her own reflection. “Didn’t you say you have to go?”
“Right. Want to hang out after school tomorrow?”
Several alarms went off in her head, not the house alarms or the police sirens, but the he’s-getting-too-close kind. “I have homework.”
More like makeup work for sleeping in class and ruining a relationship with the teacher.
“Okay. Good night, Haley.”
“Good night, Chris.”
Haley turned on some music to chase away the loneliness creeping into her thoughts and curled into a ball to fall asleep, pushing Chris out of her mind, Joce, and Dad. Everything was okay. But when she woke up, she found Jocelyn trembling and sleeping next to her.
Next to her!
Not okay, not at all.
“Joce, wake up.” Haley nudged Joce’s shoulder. “You’re still wearing your clothes from yesterday. You’re starting to freak me out.”
Joce sat up and rubbed her eyes, face pale and void of makeup, entire body shaking, her blonde hair a tangled mess. “Sorry for last night—and now. I got in late and didn’t feel like changing.”
“Or like sleeping in your own bed?” Haley propped her back against the wall, hugging a pillow to her chest, afraid to look at her sister. “What’s going on, Joce?”
Jumping to her feet, Joce narrowed her eyes. “What makes you think something’s wrong? I try to do nice things for you, and you assume something must be wrong. I sleep next to you because we’re sisters and should probably be closer than we are, and you want to know what’s going on, push, prod, force. Can’t I just try?”
“Hey, I’m sorry.” Haley grabbed Joce’s arm and pulled her back down, clamping her wrist so she couldn’t run away. “It’s just that talking to you is like trying to storm the White House. You’re totally locked up and guarded, guns swinging. You don’t usually come to me.”
Joce yanked away from Haley’s grip and stared up at the ceiling, arms crossed. “The White House? Really? Screw you. I could say the same thing about you, and you never come to me. I hate that analogy. Sometimes I hate you. But I try, dammit. Do you hear me? I try.”
Ouch.
Joce reminded Haley so much of Dad, the way he dished out anger before he turned to the bottle, the way he’d tell Mom he loved her one minute and then lash out the next, how he’d play catch with Haley and then tell her she was stupid for missing the ball. Mom would talk to him at dinner, ask him about his day, and he’d usually scream and tell her to stop being so pushy and demanding, to stop treating him as if he was useless.
Haley could only pray Joce didn’t venture down that same path. “You’re going to hate me, but are you on drugs or something? Are you drinking?”
“I… I… What?” Joce clenched her fists at her sides. “If you think I’m ever touching booze, then you know nothing about me, then you’re a worse sister than I could ever be.” Tears streaked Jocelyn’s cheeks. “I’m worried about Dad, and you think I’m a drunk. He’s never disappeared, Haley, never. I don’t care how much he drinks, how mean he is, his alcoholism has never driven him away from us.”
From you.
“Don’t you care? Don’t you worry? Or are you so self-focused that you didn’t notice? He loves you, Haley, and you throw his disease in his face. Hell, I love you, and you throw Dad in my face. You throw Mom in my face.”
Jocelyn ran out of the room, hands covering her eyes, then slammed the door, leaving Haley alone, as usual. This was the first time since Mom died that Joce admitted any sort of fear, any sort of loss, at least in a tangible way that Haley could relate to.
“Joce.” Haley darted across the hall and knocked on her sister’s door. “I love you so much, probably more than you’ll ever truly understand, or maybe even accept. I want to move on, be friends, be close and share beds and clothes and help you with boys—like you’ve helped me with Chris. I’m sorry I’ve kept things from you. I’m sorry I kept Mom’s house from you, or the fact that she wanted to leave Dad. I’m sorry I was with her when she died. God, I’ve never been so sorry in my life.”
“Tell me about it, the night Mom died. What happened?” Joce whispered from the other side of the door. “What happened in the car?”
Haley sank to her butt, leaning her forehead on the wood, heat welling behind her eyes. “There are so many things Mom made me promise never to tell. So many things she wanted to protect you from. I can’t give you everything, not without feeling like some kind of traitor, but I can tell you that we were on our way to Amanda’s.”
Joce gasped.
“To get you. Mom had had enough of Dad. She didn’t… feel safe.”
“But you never made it.”
The light turned green, and Mom said, “I’ll fix this.”
Haley glanced at Mom, tears blurring everything, everything but the headlights careening toward them. “Look ou—”
A car slammed into the driver’s side door, pushed their BMW so hard, so fast that it flipped, ear-piercing screeches of metal and asphalt drowning out their screams…
“No. We never made it. We were trapped, upside down. Mom knew, Joce, she knew she was dying. I knew she was, too. But someone pulled me out of the car, and before this person could get back—”
“The car exploded.”
Haley pressed her fingers against Joce’s door, wishing
for someone real and warm to cling to. “The car exploded.”
Heat, horrible, painful heat seared Haley’s skin. Chunks of debris blasted through the air and lodged in her arms and legs. She ran toward the fire only for someone to hold her back. “Mommy. Please, someone, anyone, please, help her. Please.”
“It’s too late. I’m sorry.”
Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
Lanky warm arms wrapped around Haley. Joce. She’d opened the door. They held each other for several long minutes, sniffling on each other’s shoulders.
“Thank you,” Joce said, falling back to her butt. She glanced up to the clock on her nightstand, bit her lip and pulled away, then rushed out of the house, calling over her shoulder. “See you after school.”
What the hell?
Not going 2day. Throwing herself onto the bed, Haley contemplated following up her text to Christine with a visit to her stash of pot. Maybe she was right and getting high would take away the pain, the confusion.
Not wise, Haley-loo-boo. U have Mr. T’s test 2day.
Meet u outside in five
“She’s bi-polar.” Haley slipped out of her jean jacket and shoved it into her bag, the sun so high and warm she’d melt if she kept the thing on any longer. Cars zipped past, blasting music and rumbling everything around with the bass. Younger kids ran along the side of the street or rode home on bikes. The world never stops, even if you do. “That, or someone strapped a bomb to her chest and told her to confuse the hell out of me. She didn’t show up for any classes. And it’s not like the administrators can call home and ask Dad if she’s okay. He’s out on his bender or whatever it is that drunks do.”
Christine brought her joint to her lips and sucked in with unnecessary emphasis, reckless with even the way she held the thing in public. One day, someone would catch her. She swore she didn’t care. “Maybe you should both try my medication.”
Haley glared.
“What? Do you ever see me all anxiety-ridden like you? And I hardly ever treat my parents with the kind of animosity Jocey-poo”—Christine shook her head—“That doesn’t work. I like the sweet, innocent Jocelyn insult much better.”
