Charming (11 page)

Definitely a pool of sweat under Haley’s hand. She should stay right where she was, forever. Yeah, that would be easier than carrying on a conversation with these two, these two people who invited her to do everything with them as a family. Why? Mr. Charming said because they’d known each other forever, but Haley and Chris hadn’t been friends. Why send him?

“You’re right, Chris. They’d think of you as an overgrown ape.” Mr. Charming patted Haley’s shoulder. “You up for a game of Scrabble? I think I can take you.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. Nope. Not working.

“Haley, you do realize that air is a necessity for life? Right?” Chris jabbed her ribs. “I heard she was, like, Mensa smart. If she can’t figure out how to breathe, though…?”

“I’m fine, just…” Overwhelmed. Confused. Grateful. Stupid. “Thank you.”

“For insulting your intelligence?” Chris held his thumb to his ear and pinky to his mouth, a sign for a phone. “Dad, call Mensa and let them know they should tear up Haley’s application.”

Regaining control of her lungs, Haley said, “It’s an application test, so there’s nothing for them to tear up because I haven’t taken it.”

“Welcome back, Miss Tremaine.” Mr. Charming stopped in the doorway of the library. “I’ll collect my lovely wife and meet you two in the family room, by the fireplace, without a crowbar. Ha. We should play that game next, assuming I don’t have to walk from the room with my tail between my legs.”

“You ready to go kick some old people ass?” Chris offered his arm and leaned so close she smelled nothing but his cologne. “And you asked me why?”

“I’m sorry?” she asked, linking her arm through his.

“You’re sorry you asked me why, or did you not hear me?”

Haley sighed. “I’m not positive what you’re referring to.”

“Oh”—he pointed to the coffee table his parents were sitting around, bowl of popcorn in the center, few cans of soda and glasses of ice—“I mean, you asked me why I’m so nice to you. You thought it’s because I wanted to hurt you, but I’m nice to you, Haley, because I like you.”

So dangerous. Chris Charming was so dangerous. The way he looked at her, looked
into
her, as though he saw her pain, her panic attacks, as if he knew every deep dark secret, and didn’t care. Definitely dangerous.

And she liked him too. She knew she should run, but her legs refused, her heart screamed at her to stay put. So she did, and they played Scrabble, and Chris beat her, terribly.

“Important question,” Mrs. Charming said, staring into the empty bowl of popcorn with a cocked, brown eyebrow.

Mr. Charming leaned forward on his elbows. “Go on.”

“Marshmallows or
Clue
?”

Haley, Chris, and Mr. Charming all shouted, “Marshmallows,” at the same time.

“
Clue
it is.” Mrs. Charming pulled the game from the entertainment center along the far wall, earning three very tired groans. “Oh, fine. Marshmallows. Let’s go outside.”

“Any time you want to ditch my ‘rents, just let me know,” Chris whispered, tugging Haley back as they followed his mom and dad toward the back deck.

“Are you kidding?” Haley longed for more interaction with them, for a lifetime of it. “I’m adopting them.”

He caught her gaze, held it, long and hard and knowing.
Danger
.
Danger
.
Danger
. “Why would you need to?”

“You kids coming?” Mrs. Charming asked, poking her head around the door.

“Be right there, Mom.” Chris knocked Haley’s chin, just a slight tap of his knuckles, a gentle, sweet, friendly gesture, one that made her cower away from him. “Don’t answer. Not if you don’t want to. It’s none of my business.”

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.