Inheritance (8 page)

She looked at him in surprise. “Like a house party?” She wasn’t really friends with Eric Chung’s group, and she wasn’t really into house parties, either.

“Yeah.” He smiled at her, and she swore her heart skipped a beat. Who was she kidding? She would go to a party with David.

“Sure, I’ll go.”

“How about I pick you up at seven?”

She gave him a puzzled look. “But Eric lives near you. Why don’t I just meet you there?”

His eyebrows rose briefly. “Because I’m asking you on a date.”

Her stomach flipped. She felt like a dork. “Oh, sorry. I mean, okay.”

He shook his head slightly, as if he thought she was funny, and reached out to smooth a piece of hair away from her eyes. His fingers lingered on her cheek, light as a feather. Her breath caught in her throat. And just like that, both his hands were in her hair, cupping her head, tipping her face up to his while he bent down to kiss her. His mouth was warm and firm on hers, his hands steady, but inside she felt him trembling like a butterfly on a leaf. She put her hands on his waist, drawing his body against hers. She felt the tail of his shirt hanging loose from the back of his jeans, and she ran her fingers under it and the T-shirt beneath, touching his skin. He shuddered in a long, twisting shiver that ricocheted through her, making her legs wobble. She pulled him closer so that she wouldn’t fall. He pushed her gently against the wall of the tower. The ledge pressed against the middle of her back, a hard edge above which was nothing—only the air over the city. A delirious confidence filled her. If she tumbled out of the tower, she would surely float, as if she were made of cloud and sky rather than flesh and bone.

A phone rang, the unfamiliar peal echoing loudly in the tower. David was still kissing her, paying no attention to it, but she realized something was vibrating in her left front pocket. The phone that Amber had given her. “David,” she said, breaking away from him.

“What?” He looked dazed.

She pulled out the phone. Dr. Brand’s name showed up on the tiny screen, and the world seemed to crash to a halt. “It’s Dr. Brand,” she said, staring at the display.

“Are you going to answer that?” David asked.

She flipped the phone open with nervous hands, nearly dropping it as she lifted it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hello, Reese? This is Evelyn Brand.”

“Um, hi.”

“We’re having a press conference on Thursday at Angel Island, and we’d like to invite you and David to come. We’ll be giving tours of our ship. You can bring your parents if you’d like.”

“Thursday?”
I could see Amber again in three days
, Reese thought, and she immediately felt guilty. She turned away from David, looking down at the palm trees that marched along the Dolores Street median. “What time? How are we supposed to get there?”

“We’ll have ferries departing from Fisherman’s Wharf at ten
AM
. Can I expect the two of you? We’d really like to have the opportunity to explain everything to you.”

Reese hesitated. David came to stand beside her. “We’ll think about it.”

“All right,” Dr. Brand said. She didn’t sound surprised. “You can give me a call at this number when you decide. And, Reese, we really do hope you’ll come.”

“Okay. Bye.” Reese ended the call and stared at the phone for a second before looking up at David.

“What’d she say?”

Reese relayed the invitation.

“Do you want to go?” he asked.

She put the phone back into her pocket. She knew that her reluctance to go was all about her issues with Amber, but facing that right now—with David only a couple of feet away—made panic shoot through her. “I don’t know.” She rubbed a hand over her eyes, and when her hand came away it was smeared with eye shadow. “Crap. I have to go wash this off. Can we talk about it later?”

He seemed surprised, but he said, “Sure. It’s on Thursday, right?”

“Yeah.” She headed for the stairs, struggling to hide her sudden anxiety.

On Wednesday Reese’s new phone rang as she was
pulling on her jacket.

“Oh my God, that is so loud,” Julian said.

“I just got it. I haven’t fixed it yet,” Reese said, tugging it out of her pocket. It was her third phone in two months. She had lost the first during the car accident on Area 51, the second at Blue Base. Her dad had given her this one before he dropped her off at Julian’s house that morning. The only people who had her number were her parents, Julian, and David. She answered the phone. “Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” David said.

“Who is it?” Julian asked. “We’re going to be late.” They had arranged for their friend Madison to pick them up to go shopping.

“It’s David,” she said to Julian. “What’s up?” she said into the phone.

Julian rolled his eyes and sat down in his desk chair.

“Did you decide whether you want to go to Angel Island tomorrow or not?” David asked. “My parents have been asking, and I think I want to go.”

“Oh.” She was still uncertain. She wanted the information as much as David did, but the idea of seeing Amber made her nervous. “I can’t really talk right now,” she said instead of answering his question.

“Why? What’s going on?” He sounded concerned.

“Nothing. I’m going shopping,” she said without thinking.
Crap
. She hadn’t meant to tell him. She wanted to find something to wear for their date on Friday night, but she didn’t want him to know. She worried it made her look as if she was trying too hard.

“For what?”

“For a—a thing. Julian’s waiting for me. Let me call you in a couple hours, okay? We can talk then.”

“All right.”

When she hung up the phone Julian said, “Boyfriend keeping you on a short leash?”

She gave him a pointed look. “You did not just say that.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Let’s go. Madison’ll be mad if she gets there and we’re late.”

On Monday night, after the Sophia Curtis interview, Reese had stood in front of her closet and stared morosely at her clothes, trying to figure out what she could wear to the party. She kept thinking about the people who would be there—David’s friends,
probably his ex-girlfriend—and how inadequate her wardrobe was. She couldn’t show up at Eric Chung’s house wearing jeans and a stupid T-shirt. She had called Julian.

“I don’t think I’m the right person to help,” he told her.

“What do you mean? You always help me find stuff to wear.”

“I find weird T-shirts. You’re going on a date. With a guy. I think you need girl help.” He sounded a little annoyed, but she didn’t think to ask why.

“You won’t go shopping with me?” she said, feeling panicked.

“I didn’t say that,” Julian said, giving in. “Why don’t you call Mad?”

Reese went shopping with their friend Madison Pon all the time, but rarely for clothes for herself. “Yeah, I guess that could work.”

Madison was more than happy to help—especially once Reese revealed the reason behind her request. She then had to explain, in detail, how she and David had gotten together, although she omitted everything about Amber. Reese told herself that Amber had nothing to do with this, and it wasn’t like Madison would think to ask, but Reese still felt a little guilty about not telling her.

It was only after talking to Madison that Reese realized going shopping was more complicated than it used to be. Since her parents wouldn’t let her go anywhere on her own anymore, she told them she was spending the day at Julian’s house. Julian agreed to sneak out with her via the alley that ran behind his street, and Madison was picking them up a couple of blocks away.

She was already waiting in her lime-green VW by the time
they arrived, breathless from sprinting down the alley. “You’re late!” she said, but she looked more excited than upset.

Julian climbed into the backseat and said, “She got a call from her boyfriend.”

Madison grinned. “Oooh, really? What did he say?”

Reese glared at Julian and tugged her baseball cap farther down over her head. “Nothing. Let’s go—we have to be back here by four thirty.”

Madison laughed. “All right. Let’s find you an outfit for Friday night.”

Haight Street was lined with thrift stores and head shops, clumps of street kids smoking, and tourists who stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to take photos. As Reese, Julian, and Madison wove their way among pedestrians and the smell of pot smoke, Reese kept her head down and hoped that nobody would recognize her. Madison pushed open the door of a thrift shop, the bell jingling. “Come on, let’s try this one first,” she said.

Reese and Julian followed her inside. It smelled like used clothes—that combination of mothballs and other people’s lives that always made Reese wonder who had worn these things before. Madison dived into the first rack, quickly flipping through blouses of every color and combination. Reese pulled off her sunglasses and wandered back to the accessories and began to dig through a pile of hats. Madison was at her elbow almost instantly.

“No,” Madison said sternly. “Focus, Reese. You need a skirt
and a top.” Madison dragged her back to the rack full of blouses and began to hold them up to Reese, while Julian looked on.

“Ew,” Reese said, pushing away an orange shirt with pink flowers on it. “I’m not wearing that.”

“You need to have a more open mind,” Madison admonished her, but hung up the orange shirt. “Just try some things on and we’ll see what looks good.”

Fifteen minutes later Reese was in a dressing room with an armful of shirts. The first was a clingy red tank top with lace edging that made her chest look huge. She opened the dressing room curtain and shook her head at Madison and Julian. “This is not me.”

Madison tugged the curtain aside and gave her an appraising look. “Wow. Yeah, not you.”

Julian poked his head over Madison’s shoulder, making a face. “Yeah, no.”

“I told you,” Reese said.

“Try on the blue one,” Madison said, pulling the curtain shut again. But the blue one was too tight; the purple too loose. As Reese struggled into a billowy white shirt with armholes in very strange places, Madison said, “I can’t believe you’re dating David Li. It’s so crazy.”

“Why is it crazy?” Reese said indignantly. “I’ve been friends with him for a while.”

“You’ve been his debate partner. That’s different. Besides, as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been like ‘I’m not dating anyone ever!’ What changed your mind?”

Amber?
But Reese said, “I don’t know.”

“Hey, I’m gonna go look at the belts,” Julian called.

“Okay,” Reese and Madison said in unison. Reese finally got the white blouse on. It made her look like a cross between the Pillsbury Doughboy and—no, that was bad enough. She took it off without showing it to Madison.

She pulled on a gray flannel shirt with black piping as Madison peeked through the curtain.

“I did not pick that shirt out for you,” Madison said.

“I know. I did.”

“It’s not sexy enough.”

Reese buttoned the shirt and looked in the mirror. It fit well. “I like it.”

“You would.” Madison pulled the curtains open and reached out to unbutton the top two buttons.

“Hey!” Reese cried.

“Cleavage,” Madison said. “You have some. You should take advantage of it.”

“I don’t have cleavage.”

“You have more than me.” Madison pointed at her size-A cups and gave herself a mournful look in the mirror. “Guys don’t like these.”

“You’re not dating the right guys.”

Madison smiled. “Yeah, probably not.” She studied Reese for a moment longer and said, “All right, you can have the shirt. But you have to wear it with a miniskirt.”

Reese groaned.

Two shops later, they compromised on a jean skirt. It was shorter than Reese was used to, but at least it wasn’t one of the
plaid schoolgirl skirts that Madison kept pushing on her, and Julian approved. “Looks good,” he said, flashing her a grin. “Guys like skirts.”

“You’re gay. How would you know?” Reese teased him.

His eyebrows rose, and he opened his mouth to say something, but then shook his head. “I’ll let you off the hook this time because we’re friends. I’m gonna go look around.”

As he sauntered out of the dressing room, Madison gave Reese a questioning glance. “What was that about?”

“I don’t know,” Reese said, confused. Was she not allowed to make gay jokes anymore? Shouldn’t she have more of a right now that she had dated a girl? Or was Julian pissed at her for dating David? She felt uneasy—as if she had done something wrong, but she wasn’t sure what it was.

As Reese put her own clothes back on, Madison tried on a flowery summer dress. “Reese, can you help me zip up the back?” Madison called. Reese pulled on her baseball cap and went into Madison’s dressing room. Madison was waiting with the dress hanging open, and Reese’s memory flashed back to that afternoon with Amber in her bedroom, trying on her red dress. Taking the dress off. Reese swallowed and zipped Madison up.

“So you and David have this mental connection now,” Madison said, looking at Reese in the mirror. “Like telepathy? Is that true?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell what he’s thinking when he kisses you?”