Avra's God (6 page)

Avra caught the sweatshirt. “Thanks!” She
clutched the sweatshirt to her, breathing in Cisco’s scent, then
slipped it over her head. Yeah, more was going on with them than
Cisco spilled.

He elbowed Kallie. “You won’t sing with me
because you’re chicken.”

“So, what if I am?”

“Seems to me that if you’re not going to sing
with us, you shouldn’t criticize,” he said.

“Ooooh,” Kallie screeched. “I haven’t
criticized. Besides, you
asked
me, remember?”

He grinned at her. “Relax, Kal, I’m just
pushing your buttons. Bring it on.”

Kallie crossed her arms.

He followed her gaze across the parking lot.
The sun ducked out from behind the clouds sparkling on the easing
rain.

“You did fine. The vocal coaching is
working.”

Jesse let out the breath he’d been
holding.

Kallie watched the steam rise off the
blacktop as she headed toward home. She wished she hadn’t told
Jesse she walked for exercise. A ride home would feel good about
now.

If she didn’t already know Jesse’s ego was
supersized, she’d think he needed her praise. Why had he asked her
to be the band’s consultant? Who ever heard of a band having a
consultant? But, she wouldn’t question Jesse about it. She wanted
to be part of the band, but not on stage—a nut case voice major who
didn’t like to perform.

She turned the corner onto Magnolia Street,
glad for the shade now that the temperature had returned to normal
after the rain. Maybe she should rethink a few things in her life.
Like why she hung out with Jesse when she didn’t want him to get to
her heart.

Cisco rubbed down the side of the black
Camaro with a soapy rag. He glanced over the hood at Kurt. “Sweet
car. Hanging with the church car wash wasn’t such a bad idea.”

Kurt ducked down to scrub the hubcap. “Told
you.”

Something stung Cisco’s arm. “Hey! What the—”
He grabbed his arm.

Avra stood nearby holding a rat-tailed towel.
“Got you back for mud-sliming my nose.” She gave him a satisfied
smile. “Now we’re even.”

He rolled up his T-shirt sleeve. “No way,
Avra. I didn’t cause you bodily harm. Look at that welt. It must be
the size of a baseball.”

“Quarter.” But she looked uncertain, eying
the angry stain on his arm.

He pointed at the splotch. “I need a little
TLC here.”

Avra blushed.

Cisco tapped his finger on his arm. “Come
on.”

Panic flashed across Avra’s features as she
stared at his arm. She took a deep breath and planted a loud kiss
on his skin. “Big baby.” She stalked away.

“Now that’s what I call even,” he said to her
back, savoring the feel of her lips on his skin.

“I haven’t seen a move that good since
college,” said a guy in his late twenties with close-cropped blonde
hair. “Tad, college-career pastor.” Tad held up a hand for him to
slap.

Cisco squinted down a couple of inches at the
wiry pastor. A pink scar zigzagged from a cheekbone into his hair.
The guy looked normal enough. He slapped Tad’s hand. “Cisco.”

“So, you think fast on your feet. How good
are you on the basketball court?”

“Is that a challenge?”

Tad hiked a brow. “Could be.”

“I’ll take you.”

“You’re on. Tomorrow, four p.m., at the old
junior high courts.”

Voice lessons evolved into Saturday afternoon
duets of Jesse’s songs with Kallie. Fine by him. There were worse
ways to spend a Saturday. About nine hundred million. And his
singing was getting better.

Kallie’s eyes warmed and fastened on Jesse’s
as they captured an elusive harmony. One hand, one foot, kept time,
while Kallie’s hair swayed behind her.

Sweet, sweet September sun shinin’ down.

Splashin’ light on things I hide inside
...

As their voices faded, Jesse reached for
Kallie’s hand, grasping for the musical bond that lingered in the
air between them. He ignored the wariness in her eyes and led her
down the steps of the shed, out the door to the clearing, and into
the filtered light of the pine-canopied woods. He memorized the
foreign feel of Kallie’s sweaty smooth hand in his.

They stepped from the pine needle-strewn sand
onto the jagged sidewalk. The river scent beckoned Jesse toward the
slow-moving water. They walked in silence, as though speaking would
shatter the mood the song had woven. Summer-scorched grass crunched
under their feet, then turned lush as they neared the water.

Two ducks skimmed across the water and
sloshed to a landing in front of them. Jesse and Kallie settled on
a rock on the riverbank, their fingers threaded clumsily
together.

The wind lifted her hair away from her face.
He studied the sun-washed green of her eyes, the warm tan on her
cheeks, and the glint of sun on her glossed lips. But she gazed
toward a flock of birds settling on the trees across the river. The
birds startled and pitched into the sky like black confetti.

Kallie tilted her head toward him, looking at
him for the first time since the song ended. He took a deep breath
and leaned toward her. Kallie’s eyes widened. His fingers tightened
on hers. Her lips were soft, motionless under his. He pulled away
and grinned, tasting triumph and strawberry. Behind her the ducks
splashed through a clumsy takeoff.

Kallie stood, her fingers pulling apart from
his. “It’s getting late.” She hugged her arms and rubbed them with
her hands against the chill in the deepening afternoon.

A car door slammed in the distance—like the
door that just slammed between them. He rubbed the back of his
neck.

Kallie walked ahead, her arms clenched across
her chest. She couldn’t have said “Don’t touch me” louder than if
she’d screamed it.

The sun bounced off her hair, and then she
stepped into the shadow of her house. He stood in the sun watching
her. She put her hand on the doorknob and darted a look at his
eyes.

“Bye.” Her voice was flat.

“Later,” Jesse said to the empty step. The
guys on campus were right. Ice Queen.

Jesse kicked a stone down the walk and into
the street. What was eating Kallie? He sure wasn’t getting an
answer anytime soon. Fear rose in his throat. She didn’t want to
take things to the next level. What if she wouldn’t go back to what
they had?

The sun glinted off the cool green water that
foamed on the shore. October marked the tail end of swimming season
if you were a native. The aroma of hot dogs floated in the air from
a stand, up-wind, nudging Avra toward consciousness. She woke with
her face smashed into her calc book. Moaning, she craned her cheek
off the page. She squinted at Kallie and rolled onto her side.

Kallie smiled. “Some calc tutor you are. I’m
going to have to dock your pay.” She smeared another layer of
lotion on her cover-girl-tanned stomach.

Avra rubbed her aching back and sat up. She
shook the sand out of her book.

Kallie stared at the rolling waves, her brow
creased.

“What’s up?”

Kallie raked her hair out of her face. “Jesse
kissed me.”

“Oh?”

Kallie looked back at the water. “I’ve
imagined that kiss since I met Jesse, but when it was over I wanted
to wipe it off with the back of my hand.”

“Uh ... maybe he hasn’t had much
practice.”

Kallie shook her head. “I don’t care whether
it was a perfect kiss. I just doubt he meant it. I bet he’ll be
hanging out with his harem on Monday morning like every other
morning.” She filled her lungs with air and let it out. “I was
hooked before I even saw him—when I heard his music—his heart.”

Avra watched two seagulls chase each other
across the waves. “Maybe he feels the same connection and that’s
why he kissed you.”

“Doubt it.” Kallie gritted her teeth. “In a
couple of weeks he’ll be over me
and
our friendship.”

“Or, maybe not—”

Kallie fired a shell at a beached jellyfish.
“Yeah, right, like that ever happens. My dad—Exhibit A.”

Avra touched Kallie’s arm. “I’ll pray for
you.”

Kallie glanced sideways at her. “God cares
about my love life?”

Avra slid her textbook into a canvas bag. “He
loves
you
. So, He cares about the things you care
about.”

Kallie lifted one brow. “Pray for a safe guy,
one who doesn’t have the power to annihilate me.”

“Come on, let’s swim.” Avra stood and dusted
the sand off her thighs and the seat of her navy Speedo.

“No way. There could be a shark, stingray, or
even an octopus in the water. Where do you think they got the
barracuda mascot for the high school?”

“Sissy.”

Kallie slipped her MP3 player ear buds into
her ears and lay back on her towel. “In more ways than one.”

Avra turned and ran toward the surf, winging
a prayer heavenward for Kallie.

Drew shouted at her from up the beach. She
looked over and waved. Kurt and Cisco stood beside him.

She ran through the churning water, diving
into a wave at her waist. She plunged into a second wave and
stroked toward deeper water. She put her feet down on the sandy
bottom. Waves sloshed against her chest. The wind whistled in her
ears, and diamonds of sun glinted from the water all the way to the
horizon.

Something soft and strong clamped around her
waist from behind. Kallie’s octopus sprung to her mind—a giant,
sci-fi creature—and she wrenched away with all her strength.

“Avra!” Cisco held his hand to his lip. A
tiny trickle of blood ran toward his chin. “You didn’t have to deck
me.”

She panted and pressed her palm against her
racing heart. “You didn’t have to scare me to death! I thought you
were Kallie’s octopus.”

“Kallie’s what?”

Avra reached for his chin and wiped the blood
off with her thumb. “You’re bleeding. Now we’ll have sharks.”

Cisco licked his lip. “I’ve woken up with
worse than this after a night of partying.”

She looked at him to gauge whether he was
serious.

“Yeah, puking in the sand—my head rolling
around like a bowling ball, my skin burned tomato red, tighter than
a flipping rubber band.” Cisco swam out beyond the wave break.

She followed. She touched bottom and felt the
sand recede beneath her toes as she stood. “Why did you get that
wasted?”

Cisco shoved soggy corkscrews of hair from
his face. “For a few hours I could forget.”

“Forget what?”

He shrugged. “Pop’s freak-out—ditchin’ Mamá.
I could forget that we moved into the projects, that Mamá’s
breakin’ her back cleaning schools.” Cisco hurled a hunk of seaweed
toward the horizon. It sloshed into a wave ten yards away.

“I’m pretty sure killing brain cells with
alcohol won’t make the pain go away.”

He treaded water as a wave rolled through.
“Your point is—I’m just gonna
be
whacked, goin’
nowhere.”

She watched a seagull take off. “You’re going
somewhere
.”

Cisco jabbed his chin at her in challenge.
“Where?”

“Where do you want to go?”

Cisco focused on the clouds. “I want a
life
—a family that works. Not the family I was born into.”
He darted a look at her, then stared hard at the horizon.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting a happy
family. That’s what everybody wants.”

“Ha! Not the guys in Computer Science. In
last week’s PowerPoint presentations, they said they want hot
girls—not marriage—and definitely not kids.”

She arched her brows at him. “And you told
them what you just told me?”

“What? Are you
loco
? I told them I
wanted a fast car, homemade chocolate chip cookies—and a hot
girl.”

She shot him a smug look. She’d picked up a
thing or two living with brothers.

He shrugged. “Nobody cares what I do
anyway.”

“I care.” It was out before she realized
she’d said it.

“Yeah, that’s why you gave me a fat lip.”

She splashed him.

He walked toward her in the chest-high water,
arms dragging behind. “Repeat after me, Cisco is not an
octopus.”

She scooted away, grinning. “Cisco is a
barracuda.” She dove and sprinted for shore.

His hands grabbed at her feet. When her
fingertips brushed the sand, she put her feet down to stand. But
Cisco lunged and tackled her. They fell into the sloshing waves,
laughing.

Cisco’s arm clamped around her middle, his
skin slick against hers. His breath warmed her neck, melting her
desire to break away.

A wave crashed behind them, tumbling them
further toward shore. Her backside planted hard in the sand. Her
legs flowed over Cisco’s.

They sat nose to nose, Cisco’s arm still
gripping her waist. He smirked as though he’d planned it that
way.

Her eyes widened. She felt the blush crawl up
her face.

He grinned and squeezed her tighter against
his chest. “What’s the matter, Avra, am I in your personal
space?”

Her heart raced as she sucked in her
breath.

His grin faded, his eyes searching hers. His
gaze dipped to her lips and returned to reading her eyes. Water
channeled around them and retreated.

His eyes warmed and softened, reminding her
again of hot fudge.

He relaxed his grip.

She didn’t move. Finally, she remembered to
breathe. She scooted a couple of feet away and wrapped her arms
around her knees, her senses reeling. Cool water rushed in where
Cisco’s body heat had been. The wind dried the water from her
shoulders and arms, peppering her skin with goose bumps.

Cisco leaned back in the surf. “Are you
blushing because I embarrassed you?”

“No,” Avra said too quickly, then,
“Yeah.”

“You’re such a together girl. It’s kind of a
challenge to get you flustered.” He stood and reached a hand out to
Avra to pull her up. He held on to her hand. “And I kinda like your
personal space.”