Strains of Silence

by Strains of Silence (retail) (epub)

  “I don’t know,” Lenka whispered. “But I’m here.”

  Kasia could only nod.

  ~*~

  When Kyle pulled in the next day, Lenka ran out and dove into the back of his car.

  Kasia would have to ride shotgun. She climbed in. This is not a date. This is not a date.

  Kyle shot Lenka a smile in the rearview. “Good afternoon, ladies. What’s first on the to-do list?” At least he didn’t mind her sister tagging along.

  “I need to buy a few travel adapters and batteries for my camera.”

  “Your parents gave you the go-ahead, huh?” He turned onto the main road.

  She leaned into the upholstered seat. “Not yet, but I’m getting ready anyway.” If they did forbid it, would she fight for this? Or would she give up?

  “You’ll be phenomenal.”

  She crossed her legs and picked at a thread on her sandal. “I’m sure I’ll learn more than I teach.”

  “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

  Kasia shrugged.

  Kyle eyed her for a minute but then reached over and turned up the stereo. He must’ve understood that, sometimes, not talking was better.

  ~*~

  The three of them made their way around the store, found the things on Kasia’s list.

  Kasia parked the cart next to the register and started unloading. Until she spotted Forearms walking toward her and the batteries fell out of her hands.

  Somehow he was more handsome every time they met.

  Her stomach turned acrobat, and she spun toward Kyle, tried to keep her face from view. “Who’ll be at your party tonight?”

  Kyle tilted his head and looked past her. Her ploy must’ve failed. Forearms had seen her.

  “I’m startin’ to think there must be a God after all. Seems like Somebody sure wants us to keep running into each other.” His baritone voice with that drawl.

  She turned slowly, tried to meet his eyes and miss everything else about him.

  “Good to see ya, Auburn.”

  “My name is Kasia, Forearms.”

  He laughed hard, his voice almost musical. She bit the tip of her tongue, determined not to participate. He ducked his head a little. “Did you just call me Forearms?”

  “What? No.” Oh, sweet mother. She had, hadn’t she?

  “I sure thought that’s what I heard. I don’t mind though. At least I know you think of me enough to give me a nickname.” He eyed Kyle.

  Kyle’s stomach pressed against her elbow. Right. Stake your claim. She couldn’t possibly be an independent person here. Kasia wanted to pound her head against the cash register.

  “Anyway, I’m on my way back over to school. Just stopped in for a cola.” Forearms held up his stupid bottle. And flexed.

  Welcome back to high school. She tossed a travel adapter on the belt.

  She shrugged, but a smile kept trying to bypass her defenses.

  “Maybe when I move here, we’ll get a chance to have that glass of sweet tea at the same table next time. My treat.”

  “You’re moving here?” Well, crud.

  “Just had lunch with Oconee State’s new coach. I’m transferring to play ball.”

  She put the luggage tags down and faced him. “What kind of ball?” Please don’t say soccer. Then her whole family would be interested in this guy.

  “Baseball.” He unscrewed the lid of his cola and took a few long pulls. The cashier was entirely too distracted by him.

  “Hm. Not really a fan.”

  He grinned, pointing at her. “You’re kind of merciless, you know that?”

  Kyle chuckled behind her.

  Forearms narrowed his eyes and screwed the lid back on his drink. “That’s cool. Some days I can’t stand baseball. See y’all around.” He gave her a nod and walked off.

  “Who was that?” Lenka’s fists were on her hips.

  “I can’t remember his name. He changed my tire once and thinks I owe him a date.”

  Her sister frowned. “Can we say ‘cocky’?”

  Kasia glanced at Kyle.

  He stepped back a foot and slipped a casual hand in his pocket. “Want to choose the songs for the playlist on my next indie show?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Forearms who?

  11

  Radio stations—music—had always held the power to win her over. Truly, Kyle’s skill and taste had impressed Kasia. But even after a day crammed with positives, as she drove past Blake’s on the way to Kyle’s party, her whole body tensed.

  She parked, dropped her keys in her bag, and stood to stretch. Her skin absolutely crawled.

  Kyle got out of his car and walked over. He spoke, but Kasia heard nothing.

  Blake had to be watching her. “I’ve got to hurry inside—restroom.”

  Kyle nodded but missed the note of urgency. So did Lenka.

  She tried again. “Is anybody up there yet?”

  “Yeah.” He scanned the area. “I see a few cars…A.J.’s there, it looks like.”

  “I’m gonna take off, then.” She darted across the lot like a four-year-old scrambling up dark basement steps.

  Shutting herself in with all the nonchalance she could muster, Kasia found A.J. making a few cheesy birthday posters. She dropped her bag. “Let me color that while you do the next one.” A.J. handed over the marker.

  A few minutes later, Kyle popped his head around the corner. “I want to have a little worship session with everybody tonight. Would you help me pick the songs?”

  A.J. stood. “I’m going to hang these.”

  Kasia followed Kyle into the main room and joined him on the sofa. They paged through his binder. So full of her favorites—“Yearn” and “Sovereign over Us.” And there—“Wholly Yours.”

  The song he sang at Common Grounds.

  “Feeling ready for Peru?”

  Kasia rested her head against the back of the couch. “As soon as I can. I need this.”

  “How long have you wanted to do mission work?” He rested an arm behind her.

  She scooched forward. “Mama used to teach ESL classes to other immigrant families through our church. She let me hang around, and—after a year or so—when I turned twelve, she let me lead a group of kids. Just conversation, but I loved it.”

  “Bet you were pretty amazing even then. Determined, for sure.” Kyle touched her shoulder, his fingertips strange against her skin.

  Her ears warmed, and she turned to let her gaze wander over the faces of the new arrivals. “I loved the people. I made friends more easily with them than the kids at school, even. But my heart has always been…”

  “You’re compassionate.”

  She wished her hair were down so she could hide behind it. Too much attention.

  “It’s cool.”

  “Mama and Tatuś always joke that I’m either going to marry someone of a different ethnic background or live abroad. I’m entirely too fascinated by other cultures. Could be the Polish-American thing.”

  He grinned. “So, live abroad, huh?”

  Time to make sure Mama’s cookies were out. Actually, Kasia hadn’t seen them. “Excuse me, Kyle. I need to check something.”

  Their cookies weren’t on the counter or the table. Lenka must’ve forgotten them when Kasia dashed out of the parking lot. Oh. She’d have to go out to the car for them.

  Anxiety nailed her as she approached the door, and her hand stilled on the knob. Maybe someone would go with her. Her eyes scanned the room. Almost everyone was involved in something.

  Kyle would take it as interest.

  She caught Lenka’s eye and pointed outside.

  Her sister held up a finger. Evidently an important conversation.

  It was broad daylight. Seriously, Kasia could walk down the steps to her car all by herself. She opened the door, peered out. Blake’s car was nowhere in sight. It would take…what? Two minutes? She signaled again to Lenka that she was stepping out and, finally, felt brave.

  Prou
d of herself.

  She closed the door and walked to the top of the steps, glanced around. Just an older woman carrying some groceries. Kasia jogged down and crossed the lot toward her car, keys in hand. This was the first time she wished Mama and Tatuś had sprung for a new keyless entry fob. When they’d bought the used car for her and the fob was missing, neither thought it mattered. A manual key worked just as well. If she was honest, until now she hadn’t thought it mattered either. She picked up her pace toward the car.

  When she reached it, she eyed the container on the center of the back seat and stuck the keys in the door. She ducked inside, grabbed the cookies, and stood up.

  Eye to eye with Blake, with only the car door between them.

  “Didn’t you get my note?”

  The sadness in his voice pulled the air out of her lungs. “I did. I wasn’t ready to call.”

  “I thought the bracelet would make you remember.”

  She always seemed to hurt him and had to hustle to make it better. “What you wrote sounded…like you were asking me to call if I wanted to. I felt like I had a choice.” She left the words in the air for a moment. “Didn’t I?”

  A mirthless laugh tumbled out. “Of course you had a choice. What kind of person do you think I am?”

  She’d been tossed on the waves of his temper too many times to answer.

  “I guess I’m not used to having to work so hard for your attention.”

  “If you respected me a little more, I might not mind these chats, but I…don’t trust you.”

  “Wait. You don’t trust me? What about how you’ve made me look to my parents? How do you think I felt when I had to tell my mother you were through with me?”

  “It hasn’t been easy for me either.” This conversation was going nowhere good. “Blake, I’ve got to go.”

  “Just a minute!” He stomped his foot like a five-year-old.

  She held up a finger. “One.”

  “What?” He scowled, eyes on fire. Wounded Blake was no more.

  She swallowed but held steady. “You have one minute. I have somewhere to be, and if I’m not back, people will come looking for me.” Please let that be true.

  “Listen to me for two freaking seconds!”

  She cast her gaze around, embarrassed. Her hand clutched the car door, ready to close it.

  “We were it for each other. I won’t watch you fall for someone else!”

  “I’m not! Blake, I don’t want to be with anyone. I just want you to leave me alone.”

  His hands scraped through his hair.

  “You’re scaring me.”

  “You act like this is so easy. Just forget everything and go on like we never existed. Well, I can’t do that. I won’t—” His fist careened into the window of her driver’s side door. Before she could make sense of it, a splintering pop sounded and her stomach was sprayed with tiny pieces of glass.

  She staggered back, dropped the plate of cookies.

  Dark red blood painted Blake’s knuckles. He bent in pain, held his wrist.

  Shattered. Her window was shattered. She absently picked a shard of glass from her T-shirt and saw three angry, sticky stripes of crimson across her wrist.

  When she lifted her gaze to Blake’s face, for the briefest moment, she caught a hint of regret. But then his eyes met hers and something in them hardened. Everything crawled to a stop. Kasia’s mind buzzed in panicked confusion, images disjointed and distorted.

  Breathe in. Kasia turned her back on Blake and planted a hand on her sun-warmed trunk.

  Breathe out. She stepped out of the parking place—the car door and splintered glass the only barriers between her and Blake.

  Breathe in.

  Lenka’s voice shouted her name from the balcony.

  Breathe out. The car door slammed. Metal and glass crunched behind her. Blake was on her heels.

  Breathe in. Kasia moved toward her sister’s voice. A motorcycle roared into the lot.

  Breathe out.

  Tires squealed and the stench of hot rubber burned her nostrils. “Kasia! Look out!” She turned. Jayce.

  His bike could’ve crushed her.

  Breathe in. Kyle thundered down the stairs and across the pavement.

  Breathe out. Kyle. Lenka. A.J. Jayce.

  Breathe in. Where is Blake? Her frantic heartbeat drowned out all other sound.

  Kasia rotated exactly once, desperate to absorb the scene. A.J. open-mouthed. Kyle with his hand on crying Lenka. Jayce next to his bike right in the middle of the lot.

  And Blake beside her car, chest heaving. Fear filled his eyes.

  Kyle stepped in front of her then, his body her shield. Her pulse hammered in her skull.

  Jayce lunged at Blake, and Blake dodged him, hit the back of her car.

  “Yeah, ya better be afraid, you little—” Jayce charged, barreled toward the man she had almost married. Almost spent forever with.

  Kyle turned toward her, but Kasia dropped to her knees on the blacktop and watched the threadlike trail of blood trickle down her arm.

  Breathe.

  ~*~

  The crunch of gravel under the tires jerked Kasia back to the real world.

  She opened her eyes.

  Langston Falls.

  This was not how she pictured her homecoming. From her own passenger seat, she blinked. The last several hours blurred in her mind.

  Lenka drove Kasia’s car up their long driveway toward the old stone church and turned hard left toward their house. The side porch light glowed, and the screen door swung wide. Tatuś and Mama came down the steps to meet them followed by an eager, scampering Samson.

  Kasia opened her door and heard the hiss of the engine, the crickets.

  Mama asked if she was all right, while Samson pranced a few feet away, head cocked.

  Tatuś bent down and met her eyes. “Cześć, córeczko.” Sweet daughter. He offered a hand. She took it, watched his hand enfold hers. He tugged her out of the car.

  He wrapped his arms around her. “It’s good to have you home.”

  She gripped the soft cloth at the back of his button-down, shut her eyes, pushed the evening from her mind, and soaked in her daddy’s affection while she could.

  He squeezed her shoulder as he let go. Too soon.

  “Let’s get you inside.” His stubble scratched her temple as he kissed her hair. “I’ll get the bags, Lenusiu. Daj mi klucze.” He held up a hand.

  Lenka tossed him the keys and followed Mama inside. Samson pressed his wet nose to the back of Kasia’s knee as she watched Tatuś turn away, keys in hand. She bent to pet her Lhasa Apso. “Samku,” she whispered. His doleful eyes were another reminder she’d been missed.

  She stood and followed Mama and Lenka up the steps. They left their shoes next to the door, each of them slipping into a pair of house shoes.

  Kasia kicked off her flops on the other side of the doorway, next to her dad’s soccer ball. She stood barefooted on the cool linoleum, grit under her toes, and breathed in the aroma of home in late spring, freshly picked mint leaves and lemons.

  “Czy chcesz herbatę?” Mama asked.

  “No thank you.” Hot tea always meant conversation. “I’d rather…can I just go to bed?”

  There it was—the exchange of anxious glances. Kasia couldn’t make herself care.

  Without waiting for a response, she shuffled down the hall, took off her shorts, and climbed into bed. The bed Tatuś had built for her.

  Home.

  Her eyes closed. Just being here overwhelmed her.

  ~*~

  Moonlight filtered into Kasia’s bedroom window. The bedside clock said 1:13 AM. Cocooned in the soft blanket, she couldn’t shake the chill in her core. A tub of ice wouldn’t feel much worse. She swung her feet off the mattress and sat up, shivering.

  Something stiff and uncomfortable gripped her right arm. A bandage.

  “Kosh?” Lenka’s voice spoke into the quiet. “You awake?” Why wasn’t Lenka across the hall in her own
room?

  Kasia leaned toward the foot of her bed. Lenka stretched out on her sleeping bag, her face lit by the moonglow. Samson snuffled on the floor beside her.

  “I guess I’m awake. Aren’t you cold?”

  Lenka sat up. “I’m fine. Do you need something?”

  “I’ll get it.” Kasia padded over to her dresser and dug through her bottom drawer, pulled out a heavy flannel she’d stolen from her dad. Not quite as comforting as his worn Chicago hoodie, but it’d do. “Why are you down there, Lenka?”

  “I just wanted to stay with you—in case you needed somebody. Didn’t know if you’d feel like being alone or—”

  Kasia forced out a bitter laugh. “Alone is dangerous.” Her gaze fell to her arm, wrapped tightly. Kasia plopped back down on her bed and pulled on the soft red socks Busia had knitted her last Christmas.

  She perched at the edge of her mattress, silent for a while before she scooted back. Once her pillow was arranged comfortably behind her, she hugged her knees to her chest and scanned the room. The walls needed painting—something drastic. “I’ll be glad to get away.”

  “I bet.”

  “Think they’ll be fine with Peru?”

  “I don’t know.” The silence was strained for a moment before a snore ripped through it, and Lenka chuckled softly. Samson.

  “Did you bandage my arm, Lenka? It’s probably a stupid question, but—the whole evening’s fuzzy.”

  “A.J. ran upstairs and got Kyle’s first-aid kit, because he wouldn’t leave you. We might have overdone the bandage a little. It was only a nick, but Kyle didn’t like seeing you bleed.”

  “Thank you. For that and staying with me for the police report.”

  “Like I’d miss that. I needed to hear what happened.”

  “Do you really think I have to get a restraining order?”

  “I don’t know. Probably.”

  “They could let me get a plane ticket and get out. Blake won’t bother me in Peru.”

  “Not my call. But I think you need to have one in place when you come back.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Kasiu? Don’t you think you should try to get some sleep?”

  “I guess. I never sleep well anymore.” She laid her head down on the pillow, squished and fluffed it until it was just right. “What did Jayce do to Blake?”