Night Sky (11 page)

“You are…dangerous,” she whispers in my
ear.

I try desperately to stop
my mouth from pulling into a grin.
I need
to be cooler than that.

“Come on. Show me to your room.” She picks
up her bag from the counter, and I know she’s purposefully keeping
her eyes off mine.

“And pick up where we just left off?” I
slide my fingers down her back. Her shirt is as soft as it
looks.

“I’m starting to rethink the whole honesty
thing,” she teases.

“So now what?” I sit on my bed patting the
blanket for her to join me.

“I called your mom.” She’s still
standing.

“What?”

“I needed to know what to bring for
dinner.”

“What?” Why is this so confusing? I don’t
care that she called my mom. It’s just…

“Fresh Mex. Chicken burrito with black
beans. Right?” Her dimples show that she’s trying really hard not
to smile, but failing miserably.

“Wow, yeah.”
Thanks Mom…and Sky.

“And every Guy Ritchie film ever made. We
can start with his first, or your favorite, or throw them up in the
air and see which one lands closest to the TV.”

“I like the second option.” She can’t be
serious, but I can’t wait to see what she does.

“Okay.” She pulls out two handfuls of movies
and tosses them into the air—without pause or hesitation.

I duck. “Ouch!” One hits me on the head. I
probably should have known Sky well enough to see that coming.

“That one hit the TV.” She leaps off the
bed.

“Okay, I guess we start there.”

“
RocknRolla
.” She smiles, holding up
the cover.

“Perfect.” I watch her every movement—her
smile, the way she easily crouches in front of the TV.

“Is this okay?” She looks over her shoulder.
“I mean…I realize I sort of burst in on you.”

“I haven’t seen you in almost a week, Sky.
This is perfect. Just you being here.” It hits me again—Sky and
me—us. These touches of her uncertainty and vulnerability make me
feel better. She seems invincible most of the time.

“Good.” She slides the movie in.

“There’s no way I can eat this burrito by
myself. Want some?” It’s in a box inside her bag, making my room
smell edible.

“Picnic?” She looks over her shoulder.

“I’ll be right back.” I run into the
kitchen. The crazy part of me wonders if she’ll still be in my room
when I get back.

She is.

We get through a monster
burrito,
RocknRolla
and
Snatch
.
It’s late and I’m seriously considering skipping school tomorrow.
She’s on one side of my bed. I’m on the other. We each have a
pillow and I’m wondering how I’ll ever be able to let her go home.
It’s close to midnight, and we both keep yawning.

“Are you okay?”

She means about Dad leaving, but how do I
even start to answer that question?

“I don’t know what to do for Mom. She seems
sort of out of it.”

Sky smiles. “I didn’t ask about your
mom.”

We lay in silence. “I
don’t know.”
At least, I’m being
honest.

“You know, I don’t really know my dad.”

I nod.
That seems worse. Or maybe better, now that mine’s screwed us
over so royally.

“I always wondered why he didn’t take the
time, you know?”

“He just doesn’t understand what he’s
missing.” I smile.

She grins. “The same applies to you,
Jameson. It’s not our fault when our parents do crazy things.
They’re just people. We all make mistakes. We all have flaws.”

“I guess.”
But shouldn’t Mom and Dad be a step above that or
something?

“I’m sorry, it’s really late. I should go.”
But she doesn’t move—at all.

“I don’t want you to.”

“Will your mom care?” Her voice is slow,
hesitant.

“No.” I don’t know if she will or not, but
right now—I don’t care.

“I’ll stay a little longer, but you’re not
allowed to touch me.” She points her finger at me in warning.

“Why do you get to make the rules?” I scowl.
But really I’m teasing, and we both know it.

“Because if you made the rules there would
be no rules, and we’d both be in too deep before we get to know
each other.” She scoots closer until our noses are almost
touching.

“That makes no sense.”

“We fit together too well,
Jay.” Her breath is warm against my face.
What will it feel like when she moves away?

“That also, makes no
sense.” How can you fit together
too
well
?

“What I mean is that we fit together, and
when we touch I want to touch more, but everything will be better
if we hold off and get to know one another first.” She reaches
forward, and I immediately take her hand.

“You’ve gotten all philosophical on me.”

“I just want this to be good.” Her fingers
squeeze mine.

“What to be good?” I want her to say it.

“Us.”

Us.
The word hits my chest. “Me, too.”

She moves her face, just slightly. Just
enough for me to decide it’s okay to kiss her again.

This is now officially the best night of my
life.

TWELVE

Monday
: Attend student government meeting. Help Sky with math.
Spend some time kissing by the pool. Mom’s nearly unresponsive, but
she keeps promising me there’s nothing I can do.

Tuesday
: Wrestle through the school day. Resist girlish urge to
write Sky’s name all over the margins of my notebook—I’m mostly
successful. Get annoyed that Sarah barely speaks to me anymore. Go
for a swim with Sky and beg her to change the rule about no kissing
or touching in the pool. No success. Spend some time kissing
next
to the
pool.

Wednesday
: High five Matt over
finally asking Kaylee on a date—and her actually saying yes. Pick
up Sky and meet her Nana and Papa during a very awkward
conversation in their living room. Her Papa doesn’t speak. Spend
some time kissing Sky
on my
bed,
while pretending to
watch…I don’t remember. Mom is still walking around like a
zombie—swearing there’s nothing I can do.

Thursday
: Say good morning to Sarah.
Get a dirty look from Eric. Listen to Sarah apologize. Not caring
if his arm is around her, because I don’t even notice…most of the
time. Go for a short walk with Sky and the pompom pretending to be
a dog. Spend time kissing on my bed.

Friday
: Tap my pencil on my notebook all day waiting for the school
week to come to an end. Sky meets me at my house at five o’clock.
We spend most of the night on the Las Vegas strip, doing very
little talking and lots of kissing. Wish we were in my
bed.

Saturday
: Yeah…it’s gonna take more
than a few words to sum this one up.

“I’m all recovered from last night. So
what’s the plan for tonight?” She’s smiling while standing on my
front porch.

“I…don’t know.” How do I tell her that all I
want to do is roll around on my bed? I want to feel her close to
me, her lips on mine. I mean, I love talking to her too…it’s just
her body’s all I’ve been able to think about. I love how she feels
next to me.

“Okay.” She walks past me into my house.

I step up behind her, sliding my arms around
her waist breathing in the vanilla scent of her hair.

“So, you
did
have plans?” She
turns her head so I can see her profile.

“I just wanted to stay in
tonight.”
Is that honest
enough?

“What for?” She turns to look at me,
crossing her arms.

Now, I’m not sure what to
say.
It’s all about being honest,
right?
“I’ve been thinking about you…all
day…all week. Since we met, I can’t stop thinking about you. I want
to feel you close to me, that’s all.”

She takes my hand and
looks down at the floor. “Us being together—isn’t about getting to
the next
level
,
Jay. It’s about really being together.”

I’m trying to figure out what the difference
is.

“Why don’t you do your thing tonight, and
I’ll do mine and we’ll meet up again in a day or two.” Her voice is
calm and relaxed, but her words cut into me.

Find some breath to
speak
. “I…”

“Would you like to walk me home?” She’s
still standing, in her fluid way of being still, looking way too
relaxed.

I’m at a loss for
words.
This is her telling me that she
doesn’t want to see me.
“I
guess…I…”

She moves toward the door.
“Spit it out, Jay.” But she smiles, so I guess we’re
good
…I think.

“Why don’t you want to be around me? Did I
do something wrong?” I’m confused as hell.

“Not…wrong…” She opens the front door and
steps through.

“Then…”
What
? I take a few long
strides to catch up.

“Just take a day or two and think about the
whole going further versus being together thing.” She looks at me
briefly over her shoulder and continues walking.

“Sky, wait.” I feel desperate, I can’t
imagine spending my night without her.

She takes my hand in hers. I guess this
means we’re okay, but I’m not feeling okay. I’m feeling like she
doesn’t want to be around me. I don’t know what to do. I try to
sort out the difference between taking it to the next level versus
being together…mostly I’m just confused. Now, we’re at her house. I
haven’t said anything. I haven’t done anything.

“Can I come in?” I ask.

“Are you
brave
enough to come
in?” She smiles at me, probably remembering our last meeting with
Nana and Papa.

“Yep.” I smile back.

I follow her up the stairs
into the living room of the split-level house. It’s quiet and dark.
But the best part is…we’re alone.
Alone
can be such a beautiful word.

“Wanna see where I actually live?”

“Sure.”
Her room? A piece of Sky…
I smile to myself, knowing I’m a bit of a nerd for thinking
this.

We head to the basement.
The ceiling is low and we pass through a collection of old wood
paneling, random furniture, and stacks of boxes. I’ve never seen
her room. How much time have we spent together and I’ve never seen
where she lives…where she hangs out. I feel bad.
Am I taking the time to get to know her the way I
should?

Then it hits me. I’m an idiot. “That’s what
you meant.”

“What?” She stops and faces me.

“Time together…learning
about one another…and not the way
I
think about most. The way that’s…um…actually
important.” I feel kinda proud of myself.

Her smile is wide. “Yeah…like that.” Her
door opens and it feels like we’re entering another world.

“I painted the walls.” She stops a few steps
inside her room.

The walls are deep brown, like the forest.
Her window is small. The whole wall around the head of her bed is
covered with small wooden carvings.

I recognize the shape. “Totems?”

“Yeah.” She nods, staring at the wall. “My
brother made most of them.”

“They’re amazing.” I step closer. The detail
is incredible. Most are at least a foot tall and three inches wide.
There are faces from top to bottom and nearly all have wings. The
features are exaggerated, but I can pick out a few animals among
the faces like a bear and a bird. “A raven?” I reach out to touch
one painted black and white.

“The raven is a
mischievous one.” She smirks as she sees where I’m pointing.
These are real to her—important.

“Is it just decoration? Or is there some
meaning?” I only glance at her briefly. Some are light wood, like
driftwood, others are darker. Some are painted in bright colors
like red and white while others are faded and worn. The collection
is sort of staggering. I reach out and trace my finger across the
face of one. The wood is smooth, expertly carved.

“Wings are protectors. A lot of them were
given to me as gifts of protection from my clan.” She looks at the
wall with me. “But like I said, most are from my brother.”

“What do you need to be protected from?” I
watch her closely now.

Her gaze leaves the wall, just for a moment.
Our eyes catch. “Dreams.”

“You have trouble with dreams?”

“A lot.” She nods.

I sink. The weight settles
in my chest…my stomach…my legs. I didn’t know this about
her.
I should have known this about
her.
“I’m sorry.”

“It has to do with things that feel out of
my control.” She sits down at the top of her bed pulling a small
woven blanket onto her lap.

“Can I sit?” Suddenly the detail on the wall
doesn’t need the attention that the detail in her face does.

“Of course.” She may be sitting, but it
almost looks like she’s curled up in a ball, as if she’s trying to
make herself small enough to disappear.

I sit on the foot of her huge bed and pull
my feet up.

“Your heritage is important to you.”

“Yes.” Our eyes meet.

“Why don’t you talk about it?” I ask.

“You bring it up, things I’ve heard and
remember from home, and you don’t even realize you’re doing it.
It’s like you know the deeper me—Night Sky and flying and…but
you’re still getting to know about me.” She doesn’t break our gaze,
but leans back against the wall. “It’s why I like being around you,
Jay.”