Malice (27 page)

She was prettier than the pictures he’d been given to study. That was a relief. She was taller than average. Her long hair was nearly the same melted-chocolate color as her eyes. Her cheeks were rosy from running, making them stand out against her flawless, olive-toned complexion. She was passably attractive. Still, she wasn’t anything like the girls he was interested in. By comparison, she was really quite dreary.

Not that it mattered.

The idea wasn’t for
him
to be interested in
her
.

Ava
needed to be interested in
him
.

He thought back to when he’d first started studying her.

“Look at this,” he’d said as he tossed the file to the side in disgust.

“I don’t have to look at it, I’m the one who compiled it,” Rafe had smugly reminded him. “I did the leg-work, you get the hands-on portion.”

“This girl? She teaches Sunday School to a bunch of snot-nosed twerps, delivers meals to the homebound and sings in her church choir. Did I also mention she’s an honor student? Most disgusting of all? She teaches a yoga class, the Golden Grannies,” he’d snorted, “down at the senior’s center. What kind of sick person wants to watch a bunch of wrinkly old sacks twist themselves into pretzels? There is something seriously demented about this chick.”

“Exactly. She clearly has an appreciation for the pathetic. Which is precisely why Father chose
you
for the task.”

Rafe’s words echoed in his head, adding to his own, never-ending private chorus of degradation. Rafe was probably right.

Ava.

She was so tangled up in her little goody two-shoes role of taking care of him, the poor, hapless, injured stranger. It never occurred to her to ask if he’d managed to cause any damage to the other guy. But there he was standing in front of Gabe, on the wide cement patio that led into his house. If Gabe looked bad, well, even freshly showered,
he
looked worse.

Gabe’s lip was split open and his right eye had nearly swollen shut. But it was the other guy’s nose, his usually straight, perfect nose that made Gabe’s split lip quirk up into a smirk.

“Busted?” Gabe asked as he allowed a cocky grin to take over his face.

“Go to Hell,” Rafe muttered.

“Only after you, big brother,” Gabe said as he slipped into the house, letting the heavy front door swing shut behind him.

“If envy is one of the seven deadly sins, I am truly damned,” Molly admitted with a content little sigh. She had positioned her lawn chair so that she could maximize her absorption of sunshine. It was still early spring. The last muddy patch of snow was gone. The chill in the air was not. She pulled her sunglasses down even as she pulled the collar of her jacket up.

Ava smiled at her friend. “You don’t need to be envious. You can come out here any time you want. You know that.”

She had inherited the cabin from her grandfather. He, like his son, her father, had also been a pastor. In his retirement years, after Ava’s grandmother had passed away, he had chosen to move into the small cabin to enjoy the beauty and solitude of nature. It was nestled right off the shore of a small, pristine lake. Her grandfather had fished year round on that lake. Right up to the day he died.

Ava was his only grandchild and he had left the cabin to her in his will. She wouldn’t have legal possession of it until she was eighteen but for all intents and purposes, it was hers. 

As cabins went, it was small—one bedroom—and sparse. She’d made the best of it, making it her own the past two years. The walls had all been painted a stark white but she’d spent weeks choosing just the right colors. Now every room was repainted, new curtains hung and new rugs tossed across the wood floors. Just last fall she’d dug up a flower bed in the front. The tulips would be the first to bloom but Ava was sure that was still several weeks away.

It was the perfect place to spend time with her friends. They had privacy.
Like
their own private club house
.
But for big girls
, Molly liked to say. They had spent many weekends out here. An air mattress tossed on the floor of the bedroom to accommodate Ava and her two best friends. Her sister, Grier, liked to tag along on these all-girl weekends but typically chose to sleep out on the sofa.

“You’re so lucky,” Molly insisted. “If this place were just a tiny bit bigger, I’d be begging you to let me be your roommate this summer. Or,” she said, favoring Ava with a conniving grin, “you could get rid of that queen size bed and put in bunk beds.”

“And feel like I’m living at summer camp?” Ava said with a laugh. “I think I’ll pass.”

She would be turning eighteen shortly after graduation. Molly assumed she would move in the day after her birthday, because that’s what she would do, if she had the opportunity. Ava wasn’t so sure. She was close to her parents and would be going away to college soon enough. Whether she moved into the cabin for the summer was still debatable.

“Wouldn’t you be scared out here all alone?” Julia asked. “It’s so secluded.”

This was true. The cabin was almost half an hour from town, nestled back into a thick pine forest. But Ava, like her grandpa, enjoyed the solitude. It was the daily drive she wouldn’t enjoy. And she planned on working at The Sugar Shack as much as her boss would allow over the summer.

“Oh, sweet Julia,” Molly chided. “If it were in town you’d worry about peeping Toms. Or a car crashing through the dining room.”

Julia gave Molly a grumpy look but didn’t try to protest.

“So, Ava, who is this strange boy Grier was telling us about?” Molly asked as she squirmed into a sitting position.

“Grier didn’t like him,” Julia interjected.

“Of course she didn’t. Grier doesn’t like boys. Or anyone else for that matter,” Molly decided.

“She’s just cautious around people she doesn’t know,” Ava said in her defense. She didn’t know Grier’s background well because of the simple fact that Grier refused to discuss it. Grier had been appearing at the Sunday service for months before Daniel and Leah St. Clair realized she was homeless. After convincing Grier to meet with a social worker with them, and after it was determined that they were not going to be able to find Grier’s mom, they had agreed to take Grier into their home. That had been several years ago. Grier was welcomed there for as long as she needed.

She was a year younger than Ava. As much as Ava wanted to form a close bond with Grier, it was difficult. This was not for lack of trying on Ava’s part. Ava often had to wonder if Grier suffered from some sort of social ineptitude or if she chose to be socially repellant as some sort of self-preservation mechanism.

Today she had insisted on coming to the cabin with Ava and her friends. Once inside the cabin, Grier had looked around in annoyance, as if remembering how loud three other girls could be. When Ava pulled out the blender and her friends crowded into the small kitchen, Grier had insisted they all leave. Immediately.

“‘Cautious’ my pleasantly plump derriere,” Molly scoffed and Ava smiled. Molly was curvy and proud of it. She was also just as defensive of Grier as Ava was. She enjoyed teasing Grier but was viciously protective if anyone outside of their tight little group dared to try. Not that it mattered. Grier did not seem to be wired to notice, let alone care what anyone else thought of her. “That girl has the social grace of a toddler.”

“Grier!” Julia pleasantly called out, alerting Molly to her arrival.

“Here are your drinks,” Grier said as she trudged down the path that led from the cabin to the lake. She held out freshly blended tropical smoothies to Ava and her friends.

“You remembered to add rum to mine, right?” Molly asked.

Grier stared at her, uncomprehending.

“It was a joke,” Molly told her.

“It was?” Grier asked. “It was not amusing.”

“No, it was not,” Julia agreed, giving Molly a sour look.

“Thanks, Grier,” Ava told her. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit out here with us? It’s not too bad if you find a spot of sunshine.”

“Will you be engaging in the same insignificant chatter as always?”

“Absolutely,” Molly told her with a grin.

“Then no,” Grier decided, retreating back to the empty cabin.

“Tell me again, why was she so adamant about coming along?” Molly asked. She was not really expecting an answer. Grier was always insistent on being part of the crowd. She just never wanted to actually be
in
the crowd.

“Because she’s Grier,” Julia reminded her with a smile. Grier was Grier and to those who knew her, that was often explanation enough.

“So, this boy who showed up at your house last week?” Molly asked. “Which, by the way, I am hurt that I had to hear about it from Grier on the way up here. This is the kind of thing that I expect you, as my friend, to share with me.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Ava assured her. “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

Molly ignored her comment. “The way Grier described him he sounds dangerous. Was he dangerously attractive?”

“Oh, please,” Julia moaned. “The poor guy got beat up on Ava’s front lawn. And all you care about is whether or not he’s
cute
?”

“Well…
yes
,” Molly unabashedly admitted. “If I don’t ask about that, then what am I supposed to ask about?”

“Oh, gosh,” Julia huffed, “how about the fact that some strange guy was creeping around Ava’s house!? What if he comes back? What if he robs the place? Or worse? What if he comes back and attacks Ava…or Grier?”

“Whoa! Rein it in, Nervous Nellie!” Molly cajoled.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that not one but two strangers were hovering around the St. Clair’s?” Julia wondered.

“No, it’s not odd. It’s a public street. People we’ve never met pass by all the time. Probably dozens of them, maybe even hundreds of them every week. So, that means possibly thousands of strangers pass by every year. They just aren’t usually confronted with a reason to stop.” Molly feigned a bored yawn. “Do you know what I
do
find odd? Grape flavored bubble gum.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Julia sputtered.

“It doesn’t even freshen your breath. Therefore, it’s pointless. Just like the turn you took in the conversation. Now, back to the boy,” Molly insisted, relentless as ever.

“His name was Gabe. He saw the guy lurking. He tried to chase him off but they got into a scuffle. I came along, Hercules started sniffing, Mrs. Fitz started yelling and that was the end of it,” Ava told Molly.

“Did you call the police?” Julia demanded.

“No. Gabe didn’t want me to. The other guy was long gone. Grier thought we should but by that time, Gabe was gone too. I would’ve been the only witness. I convinced Grier that it seemed pointless because I didn’t see the guy lurking, I just saw them fighting.”

“That would’ve been the perfect excuse to get his contact info! Please, tell me you got something from him?” Molly moaned. “Last name? Phone number?”

“He was fending off some lurker, not signing up for speed dating!” Julia scoffed.

“Speaking of speed dating,” Ava said to Molly with a knowing smile. “Oliver asked me if you were going to be in charge of the kissing booth at the school carnival.”

“Oh, nice. Real nice segue,” Molly pouted. “I get it. You don’t want to talk about Gabe.”

Ava laughed. “There is nothing else to say about him.”

“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “It’s just that new blood in this town is such a novelty. I can’t help but be curious. So,” she said, breaking into a grin, “what exactly did Oliver say?”

“Is there really going to be a kissing booth?” Julia asked in alarm.

“Noooo,” Molly told her. “You don’t have to worry about a germ-a-palooza.”

“So why is he asking about a kissing booth?” Julia wondered.

“I think it was his not very subtle way of saying he’s interested in Molly,” Ava explained.

“Julia, you are so preciously naïve,” Molly said as she reached over and tousled her friend’s hair. “Maybe you should run along and see if you can play Barbies with Grier.”

Julia, used to Molly’s banter, stuck out her tongue. “You are so mean!”

“And Oliver is so adorable. What did he say? Exactly?” she asked as she leaned forward, waiting for Ava’s response.

“Well, I had to tell him that even though a kissing booth was in the suggestion box more than once, Principal McDaniel didn’t think it was an appropriate station for an elementary school fundraiser. But I saw how disappointed he looked so I just gave him your phone number and told him he better use it.” Ava smiled wickedly. Molly, for once, was speechless.

“Oh, no, you didn’t,” she said when she finally rediscovered her voice.

“Oh, yes, I did,” Ava admitted. “That was this morning. So you should probably be expecting a phone call before the weekend.” For all of Molly’s brazen talk, when it came to Oliver, she was unusually shy. They had been flirting back and forth all year but that was as far as it ever got.

Julia cleared her throat and grabbed her notebook. “This girl talk has been fun and all but we did agree to discuss the carnival. Ideas? Anyone, anyone?” she asked as she poised her pen over a blank page.   

“Oh, right, the carnival. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Molly complained to Ava as she plastered a grumpy look on her face. “I am perfectly happy with a C+.”

Ava didn’t know what, exactly, it was about Civics. It was just so
boring
. She was having a terrible time keeping up a decent grade in the class. Her only saving grace was that Mr. Risland was a huge advocate of community service. He generously handed out extra credit to those who reached out to help in the small, close knit community of Hunter Falls. However, he did make you work for it. Volunteering for a few hours at the fundraiser wouldn’t cut it. You had to be on the planning committee. Then you would be graded by your peers on your level of participation.

In an effort to keep up her grade in that class, Ava had found herself involved in a variety of community events throughout the past year. She’d volunteered at the senior center, the soup kitchen and the animal shelter. Somehow, she had even found herself heading up a committee that raised donations of peanut butter for the local food shelf.

This was above and beyond her participation in her father’s parish, which was something that was expected of her. Not that she minded her responsibilities in her father’s church. She enjoyed singing in the choir and she adored the preschoolers that were in the Sunday School class that she taught. The problem was that all of these activities kept her extraordinarily busy.

Pastor St. Clair assured her it was good for her soul. Her mother advised her it was good for her college applications. Her friends—meaning mostly Molly—reminded her it was good for social ostracism. Between her job, her Civics volunteering and her work at the parish, she hadn’t had much time for anything else.

The carnival was the last community service project of the year. Hunter Falls Elementary was in desperate need of a new playground. All of the money raised would be donated to the cause. Once the carnival was behind her, she might actually have some free time to live her life a little bit.

Molly let out a little sigh of defeat. “Okay, girlies, the carnival is next weekend. We’ve decided on fifteen different booths. The school’s Parent Teacher Association will pick up and deliver all of the donations to the school. We don’t need to worry about decorating or set up because Jenna and Kira’s group is taking care of that.”