Charge (Electric Series #1)

by E. L. Todd

Taylor shrugged. “Not sure. But she wants to keep seeing him.” Suspicion settled in her eyes. I recognized it because I’d seen it so many times myself. “I guess that answers your question.”

  Jared suddenly walked into the bathroom, not saying anything more.

  What was that about?

  “Alright. I’ll see you later.” Taylor walked past me and headed to the door.

  I walked out with her because I had no choice. “Bye.”

  Once we were outside and the door was shut behind us, I expected her to interrogate me about the change in our relationship. One moment, we were inseparable. And now, we were distant.

  “Good game, huh?” she asked as we walked down the hall.

  That was the last thing I expected her to say. “Pretty tense.”

  “I love sports, but they’re so heartbreaking at the same time. Kinda makes me hate them.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  We got into the elevator and slowly rode it down to the lobby.

  I expected her questions, her concern. But it never came.

  “How’s it going with Clay?”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “He’s really behind. We meet every single day after school, and I still don’t think that’s enough.”

  “There’s always the weekend.”

  “Nah. I’m not giving up my weekends too.”

  She pulled out her phone and read a text message. A smile stretched her lips from ear to ear. She typed a response then shoved her phone back into her purse.

  I saw everything in the reflection of the doors.

  The doors opened, and we walked through the lobby to the sidewalk outside. Her apartment was in the opposite direction from mine, and we were about to part ways.

  “I’ll see you later, Volt. Have a good week.” She immediately turned around and walked away.

  What the hell?

  Did she not miss me?

  She didn’t think my distance was weird?

  She didn’t expect me to walk her home?

  What was going on?

  How could she not care?

  “Taylor.”

  She turned around, gripping her purse on her shoulder. “What’s up?”

  I had her full attention, and I tried to think of something to say. There were a million things I wanted to share with her. She was the only person I could talk to, and I wished I could tell her about these strange feelings I had for her. She would be able to help me figure everything out and what I should do about it. But she was the one person I couldn’t tell. “Want me to walk you home?”

  “Nah. I got it.” She turned around and kept walking.

  I stood there and watched her go, counting every step as she walked away and left me behind.

  What was wrong with me?

  ***

  I worked with Clay for an hour, and we were still on the vocabulary section of the SAT. Since he couldn’t read, he couldn’t complete the subject. So I had him read every sentence in the SAT prep book and work out every vocabulary word. When he recognized words he’d already seen before, he was able to remember them and spit them out easily.

  But we still had a long way to go.

  I was dreading the math section. Absolutely dreading it. Most kids struggled with math in some capacity, and that was perfectly fine. But I suspected he couldn’t do much more than add and subtract.

  Poor kid.

  He rubbed his temple at the end of the session. “Fuck, my brain hurts.”

  “What did I say about cussing?”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “You’re just making it worse.”

  “Sorry…” He grabbed his backpack and put all his stuff away. His stomach rumbled loudly under the table, and we could both hear it.

  “Better run home and get some dinner.”

  “Yeah…” He got out of the chair and shouldered his backpack. “I’ll see you later, Volt.”

  “Alright, kid. Good work today.”

  He waved and walked out.

  I closed up the office because I was the last one in the building. I used to leave just after lunch, but since I’d taken on Clay, I had to stick around. It cramped my style, but it was temporary. Clay needed help, and I knew I was his only hope for some form of a better life.

  I left the building and started walking to my apartment. After I passed a few blocks, I saw a familiar bike leaning against the wall in an alleyway. It was gray and rusty—and the chain was about to fall off.

  Clay must be around here somewhere.

  I stopped and peeked down into the alleyway, and that’s when I saw something I’ll never forget.

  Clay pulled out a Styrofoam container directly from the dumpster and opened the lid. He examined soggy fries and leftover chicken inside, and after a few seconds of deliberation, he began to eat it.

  My heart broke.

  “Clay.” I entered the alleyway and snatched the box out of his hand.

  He stepped back and tried to brush it off. “I was looking for food for my dog.”

  “No, you weren’t.” I tossed it into the dumpster. “Don’t lie to me. You’re wasting your time.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, putting up his walls to protect himself from my judgment.

  “Why are you eating out of a dumpster?”

  He shrugged.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “I was hungry. Obviously.”

  “Do you have anything to eat at home?”

  He shrugged again. “Not really.”

  “Your dad doesn’t make you anything?”

  He shook his head. “No. There’s no food in the house.”

  The blood drained from my body as the depression hit. I knew Clay wasn’t well-off, but I didn’t realize things were this bad. Maybe that bruise on his face was exactly what I thought it was. “Does he hit you?”

  “No.” He blurted it out without hesitation. “He doesn’t hit me. We’re fine.” He took a step back, his head bowed.

  “Clay, are you lying to me?”

  “No.”

  “What did I say about lying?”

  “I’m not lying,” he argued. “Don’t call social services. You’re wasting your time.”

  Now I was even more confused. How did he know about social services? Why would he lie and say he’s not being hit if he is? I’d never been in this position before, and I didn’t know what to do. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”

  “I don’t need your charity.” He walked to his bike, keeping his back to me.

  “It’s not charity.” I followed behind him and grabbed him by the shoulder. “I’m only trying to help you.”

  He looked up into my face, inexplicable rage marked into every feature. “Maybe you grew up rich, but not everyone is so lucky. You don’t need to pity me or look down on me. I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure you can, Clay. But when a door opens, walk through it.”

  “What?”

  “Just come with me.” I released his shoulder and headed to the sidewalk.

  “I don’t have a lock for my bike.”

  “No one will see it. And if it’s gone, I’ll loan you mine. I never use it.”

  ***

  I got him the most fattening and delicious meal I could find.

  We went to Mega Shake and ordered burgers and fries. It was much better than any leftovers he could find in an alleyway.

  Just thinking about it made me sick.

  He was apprehensive to eat at first, but once he took the first bite, he couldn’t help himself. He devoured the entire thing in less than five minutes. Grease and dressing were all over his fingers, and he licked it off.

  Thankfully, I told him to wash his hands before he ate.

  “Pretty good, huh?”

  He nodded, still sucking his fingers.

  “You want more?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m pretty stuffed.”

  His stomach was probably smaller than a walnut at this point. “If
you ever need anything, you can always ask me, Clay.” I wasn’t going to let this kid eat out of a garbage can. I wouldn’t let any kid resort to that.

  He wiped his hands with a napkin.

  “I mean it, Clay.”

  “I heard you, Volt.”

  The more I helped him, the more he resented me. I understood he wanted to make his own way in life, and he was embarrassed about being so far down on the economic ladder, but he shouldn’t feel so ashamed.

  I opened my wallet and set a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “That’s for lunch tomorrow.”

  He eyed it without taking it.

  “I’ll give you more every day.”

  “What am I supposed to do with it?”

  “Buy lunch at school. What do you normally do?”

  “Nothing…”

  “They don’t have a lunch program there?”

  “I dunno. Everyone makes fun of the kids who are on it… I’d rather not eat.”

  How was he functioning right now? No wonder he couldn’t pay attention in school. He was malnourished and starving all the time. “Take the money and buy lunch.”

  “I’m not taking your money. I couldn’t use it anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  “They use lunch cards. You load it with money at the office and then use a card.”

  Even schools were going digital. “Then I’ll take care of that tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want your money.” He shoved the twenty back to me. “I’m fine without it.”

  I shoved it back. “I’m not taking it, Clay. You may as well keep it.”

  He eyed it for a long time before he pocketed it.

  “I’ll pay for the card and leave it at the office. Pick it up at lunchtime.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” he whispered.

  “I know I don’t, Clay. I’m doing it because I want to.”

  He stared at his empty tray, his mind somewhere else. “This is the first time I’ve felt full since… I can’t even remember the last time.”

  I didn’t know my heart could break that many times in a row. “You’ll never be hungry again. I promise.”

  “I’m not your problem, Volt. You don’t need to make me your problem. I’m just some poor kid that will die in a ditch someday. No one will remember me, and no one will even notice when I’m gone.”

  It was one of the rare times I was speechless. No one had ever floored me with their words. The misery in his voice was difficult to listen to. It made me want to do anything in my power to make him happy, even rip off my own arm. “That’s not what’s in your future, Clay.”

  “It’s not?” he asked sarcastically.

  “No. You’re going to go to college and make something of yourself. You’re going to have a happy life with a beautiful girl and some kids one day. You’re going to live happily ever after. This moment, right now, is going to be forgotten. Not you, Clay.”

  ***

  Taylor was always in my dreams.

  I expected her to be naked and on all fours, but that wasn’t the case. Sometimes, she was lying next to me on the couch, her long hair resting on my arm. Sometimes, we walked through a meadow holding hands. Sometimes, she laughed—just laughed.

  What did that mean?

  The more I pushed her away, the more I obsessed over her. Her absence only reminded me how much I needed her. The loneliness was worse than ever before, and I wasn’t sure who I was anymore.

  I wanted to tell her about Clay. This was the first situation I couldn’t handle on my own, and there was no one better to ask than a great teacher. Actually, there was no one better to ask—period.

  I showed up at her classroom at the end of the day and checked my appearance before I walked inside. I wore a navy blue suit with a colored tie, and I worried I didn’t look my best. I never cared what women thought of my appearance before because they always seemed impressed no matter what I was wearing, but now I couldn’t stand the idea of looking anything less than the perfect man—at least for her.

  Pushing her away made me value our friendship even more. It was an amazing sensation, to be this close to someone without feeling pain. I hadn’t had a relationship like that in…a long time. I didn’t want to lose that. Actually, I couldn’t afford to.

  I walked inside with the intention of being normal. Taylor was just my friend and nothing more. These feelings would go away if I bottled them down hard enough.

  Taylor was wiping down the whiteboard when I stepped inside. She wore a loose bright blue dress with a pink cardigan. Flamingo earrings hung from her lobes, and the heels she wore were safari themed.

  She looked cute as hell.

  I used to think her clothing was strange and a little dorky, but now I loved it. She stood out in the crowd, being unnaturally beautiful and unique. She didn’t care what anyone thought of her, and I loved that about her. Actually, I preferred these outfits to the skintight stuff I told her to wear to bars and clubs.

  Because it was who she was.

  She set the eraser on the edge then turned to the desk. That’s when she noticed me. “Oh, hey.” She rested her hand against her chest and released a sigh of relief. “You scared me for a second.” She chuckled at her own reaction.

  I could do this.

  It’s just like old times.

  She’s just my friend. My gorgeous and amazing friend…but just my friend.

  Think clearly.

  “You should be James Bond with moves like that,” she said with a laugh.

  I came closer to her desk, trying to think of something witty to say in response. My eyes focused on those rosy cheeks, and I imagined my fingers running across her smooth skin until they rested on her lips. Then that image changed, and I was kissing her against the desk, hiking her up until she was sitting on it with her legs around my waist. “I miss you.”

  Fuck.

  Goddammit.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  I hadn’t blinked since I uttered those words, and now the room fell quiet in intensity. I didn’t expect her to say anything back. What could she possibly say to that? I came here determined to resume our friendship, but instead, I ruined it.

  Like an idiot.

  Her eyes softened as she examined me, seeing the sincerity in my eyes as well as everywhere else. Her lips parted slightly, reminding me of the gentle kisses we once shared. “I miss you too.”

  Liquid softness spread across my heart, giving me the greatest amount of pleasure I’d ever known. I never expected her to say those words, so I wasn’t prepared for how they would make me feel. Cloud Nine was a real place, and I just landed.

  “I just assumed you had a lot on your mind and needed some space.” She stood at her desk and watched me with affectionate eyes. They were bright like usual, containing the secrets of the world deep inside.

  I never needed space from her—just these ridiculous feelings. “I’ve just had some stuff going on…” Now I was even more convinced that these emotions were here to stay. All I could think about was the enchanting tone of her voice, the way her hair fell around her face like she was about to walk into a photo shoot, and the hypnotic way her eyes fell on me. I kept picturing her in my bed, but not naked and wet. She wore one of my t-shirts and a pair of boxers. Her lips were red and puckered from kissing me like she loved me. And I was just watching her sleep.

  “You want to talk about it?” She sat in the chair behind her desk.

  I couldn’t tell her what was really going on. If I did, it would just make things awkward…or at least more awkward. And if I told her how I felt and she felt the same way, it would be a moot point—because I couldn’t offer her anything. Maybe these feelings were real and not superficial, but that didn’t mean I wanted a commitment. Right now, I was just focused on making them go away.

  I pulled up a chair and sat across from her. “I caught Clay eating out of a dumpster.”

  It took her a second to react, and when she did, she wasn’t shocked—just heartbrok
en. “Oh, no…”

  “I gave him some money to pay for food at school, but he said they run on a card system. So I loaded one with enough cash to last him until he graduates. And I bring food to our lessons now so I know he gets dinner.”

  “That’s so sweet of you, Volt.”

  No, it wasn’t. I wasn’t doing it for any kind of recognition. I wasn’t doing it because it made me feel good. I was doing it because…I cared about this kid. “I asked if his dad hits him, but he said no. I feel like he’s lying.”

  “Why would he lie?”

  “That’s the thing…I don’t know. There is no reason. If you were in an abusive household, wouldn’t you want to be taken out?”

  “I would think so,” she whispered.

  “I haven’t seen any bruises lately so…maybe he’s telling the truth.”

  “I hope so.”

  “But if this kid isn’t getting food, and he has to hide the fact he’s being tutored…I can only assume the worst.” Two things were weighing me down at the moment. The first one was my feelings for Taylor. They didn’t die down during our time apart, and they definitely flared up when we were together. The second thing was Clay. I worried about him constantly, fearing what went down when he was home with his father. No kid should have to struggle like this, and my heart kept breaking over and over. I wasn’t an emotional guy, but Clay brought out the worst in me.

  “Wait until he trusts you. Then ask him again.”

  “Kids like Clay don’t trust anyone. That’s how they survive.”

  “But you’ve gone above and beyond for him,” she whispered. “You aren’t just another grown-up. He knows you care about him.”

  I hoped he realized that. Because I suspected I was the only person who did care about him.

  “I’d like to meet him…if there’s ever a time.”

  “You would?”

  She nodded. “He doesn’t have a mom in his life, right?”

  I shook my head. “Not that I know of. It sounds like just the dad is in the picture.”

  “Every boy needs a mom…no matter how strong they are.”

  I could attest to that. Growing up, I was a momma’s boy. And frankly, I was still a momma’s boy. “I’ll give him some more time to get used to me before I bring in someone else. He’s very timid around people, like if he draws too much attention to himself, he’s going to be punished in some way.”