Out of the Blue (12 page)

He heard footsteps softly over the tile and knew Jason was coming. He knew what he’d say, didn’t want to be told off. He already knew he’d messed up. What was the point? Maybe he’d get fired from this stupid job. Who wanted it anyway?

“I asked Molly out.”

“You what?” Justin said, slowly turning to face Jason. He threw the cups he’d been stacking on the ground and stalked over to him.

“You heard me,” Jason said. “I hardly host anymore anyway.”

“What were you thinking? Asking out a guest?”

“Oh, cause you didn’t?” Jason smirked. He walked past Justin and nudged the mess of cups with his loafers. “You should pick this up.”

“Screw you,” Justin said. But he knelt and started putting pieces into other cups. He stood up to grab napkins. When he got them, he came back and knelt to wipe up the mess. “Eff this,” he said. “We should have a maid or cleaning guy or something.”

“We would have if you hadn’t always compulsively cleaned it yourself.”

“If you want a job done right—”

“Right.” Jason said. He squatted beside Justin. “Is it not okay if I take her out? I don’t want to intrude. Didn’t seem like you wanted to be around her though. Even if you do act weird.”

“I was at work,” Justin said. “How can I treat her differently?” He stood with his hands full of garbage and moved carefully to the garbage can behind the bar. “And since when is me acting weird something new?”

“You should bring that over here,” Jason said, after Justin dumped his load in the can. “Make it easier.”

Justin didn’t. He walked back over. “It’s done anyway.”

“Fine.” Jason walked with the last couple napkins and cups over to the garbage.

Justin fell back on the couch and lay, looking at the ceiling. “You should turn the stars on.”

“You should go home.” Jason said. “I don’t think you’re well.”

“Think Hope will fire me?”

Jason perched tentatively on the arm of Justin’s couch. “No. I know she won’t,” he said. “She loves you.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Why are you so constipated about emotions?”

“I have my reasons.”

“All right.” Jason said. “So any tips for taking Molly out?”

Not likely, Justin thought. “She hates ice cream. And the beach.”

“Noted,” Jason said. “Anything else?”

“She likes weird anime.”

“Ah,” Jason said. “Me too.”

“Even ones where the boys look like girls?”

“Sounds interesting, I’ll have to get her to show me some.”

“Boo,” Justin said. “She’s also a neat freak about her living room. And it’s all brown.”
And she’s wonderful,
he wanted to add. She deserved more than he could give her, so he’d let Jason go for it. He didn’t have to make it easy for him though. She deserved someone who would work for it.

“We’re going out tomorrow.”

“Sheesh, that’s fast,” Justin said. “You like her so much? She’s just a plain little bookworm.”

“I find her delightful,” Jason said. “Really innocent. I can tell she thinks I’m this harmless intellectual. Looking forward to messing with her head.”

“You’re messed up,” Justin said. “Watch out, Nicole and Sean will beat you if you mess with her.”

“I’ve been training with Sean at his dojo,” Jason said.

“Really?” Justin sat up. “Jealous.”

“You should come by sometime.”

“Naw.” Justin turned away from Jason into the couch. He had homework to do. He should get home, get to work. All he wanted to do was mope and contemplate sabotaging Jason’s date.

“It’d be good for you,” Jason said. “Part of your new manly routine?”

Justin scratched his nose. “Peh. The hair backfired anyway.”

“What were you hoping to accomplish?” Jason shook his head. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” He brushed the lines out of his trousers and folded his arms. “I’m glad you’re okay with me dating Molly. I hope you’ll get some rest and be okay in general.”

“Thanks dude,” Justin said. And when he thought of asking Jason if he remembered what it was like when they first started, he realized Jason had already left. But Justin could remember. It’d been so different then. And he’d been desperate. Now he just felt lame. He hoped Hope had gone home by now. He didn’t need a lecture.

He walked to her office, listened against the door for a moment then went in. He didn’t have a computer. He kept his laptop at school and worked there. He didn’t want to be traceable. He opened his email, hoping his TA had sent out the most recent project. Instead at the top of his inbox, he saw a message from an unknown address. He didn’t want to open it, but he couldn’t stop his fingers.

“I found you. I’m coming. And if you don’t stay away from her, I’m coming for her too.”

Justin stared. Blinked. Stared. Dug his nails into his palm, and tried to plan. Someone knocked on the door and he rose to open it.

Molly rifled through her anime discs. Nothing looked interesting. She thought about what she had said to Nicole about wanting Justin out of her life and whether it was true. She looked at one of the blond girly men on one of the DVDs, and decided maybe it wasn’t.

The stairs to her bedroom creaked slightly, and the air smelled stale. Her bed waited for her, soft and inviting, but she went to the bathroom instead, to look at her hair. Maybe it wasn’t as nice as she thought, and that’s why Justin hadn’t noticed.

No it was. She watched it shimmer in the light, surprised at the different colors that showed when it wasn’t fluff ball mousy brown. She looked up to study her face. What kind of a face would a girl have to be with Justin?

She planted her hands on the counter then turned around to lean against it, away from the mirrors, but towards other mirrors on the closet door. Mirrors everywhere. How did Justin feel when surrounded by mirrors? What was it like for everyone to think you were beautiful?

An image came to her mind, of a small blond boy, and red fingernails threaded through his hair. Grabbing it. She pushed off the counter and slammed her hands against it as she fell again. After something like that, wouldn’t being beautiful be a bit scary?

She thought back to those years that seemed disproportionately important. To that day he’d leaned over and seen her manga. She’d been hiding in a sweatshirt so big a quarterback would have found it roomy. She knew something about hiding anything you thought would draw attention. What did you do if it was your face? If your face was so stunningly beautiful it’s all people saw?

An image of her slamming her face into a rock made her smile and realize she was much more of a coward than Justin. She thought about what Nicole said. Something about how he might just be afraid?

She flopped on the bed and stared up at the spackled white texture. She searched for patterns in it. There a face, there a dog. Justin had never acted like that. She thought up to the preceding moments and analyzed what had been different about them. She saw Nicole berating him over his hair, saw herself complimenting him. Saw herself with her done up hair, saw herself with makeup, coming just to see him, smiling at him.

When had whatever she felt for him changed to sexual interest? Maybe that scared him. She sat up and rubbed her temples. She ran through a dozen scenarios in her head, and began to see that whenever Justin was comfortable, someone seemed to be insulting or teasing him. She wondered what the woman who abused him, though he hadn’t put it in those words, was like. It had sounded almost loving. Was that how he felt it was? Then why did he seem so afraid?

No, afraid wasn’t it. And Molly was getting tired of running circles in her mind. She knew she’d be pressing on him more, but she wanted to know, wanted answers to some of her questions. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. She pulled out her phone. Found his number.

She texted. “You still awake? I want to talk.”

She plopped the phone beside her on the bed and rolled over. Nothing. Was he upset? In bed? Hadn’t he said he sometimes stayed late at the club after everyone left? She knew she would if she was in the same position. Just to look at the star ceiling. She wondered if she could somehow sneak in there and see him …

“I’m at the club.” The phone beeped as the words appeared. “Would love if you came to visit.”

Molly squinted at the screen. Not what she expected. Still, she’d get an apology from him, or an explanation from him, as soon as she got there. She put back on her shoes, no socks, and ran down to get her jacket.

Chapter 7

J
ustin woke to a foggy darkness that slowly turned light. He blinked. Blinked again. His eyes stung, he meant to reach up and rub them, but couldn’t move. He felt his wrists together, tied, behind a chair. He blinked faster, tried to speak, but his voice felt slow, and he couldn’t push the words together. Like he was underwater. Thoughts were starting to come together, vague images. Molly’s face, sad, and an email. He pulled at his ties. He remembered a knock at the door. The fog was becoming white and brown, and something moving in the background. Behind that, blue. He was at the club?

“What’s going on?” He heard it like a drunk said it. What happened to his voice? What happened to him?

“I hit you when I came through the door.”

The voice chilled him. Annoyed him. Angered him, but oddly, didn’t scare him. Velvet smooth, deep, touched with a western accent.

“I thought your thing was little boys.” He tried to focus on the blurry person who had to be Valerie. The woman who took him in, in more ways than one. He smiled at his dirty joke. Somehow, even tied to a chair, facing this monster, he didn’t feel any worse than he did before. In fact, sometimes the worst happening to you was exactly what you needed to stop fearing it. Nothing she could do to him could hurt him now. He was grown enough to pin her as disgusting. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that though.

She came close enough that he could make out her face, watched it become clearer second by second. “You’ve always been the exception.” She put a leg up and over and straddled his lap. “You’re even more beautiful now.”

He turned his head to the side, wondering and pleased that he felt unaffected. Why had he even run five years ago? He should have just let her find him. They could have settled this earlier. He could have started to live his own life, after making sure the cops got her. The thought made him uncomfortable. How did one admit such a thing to the cops? Oh well, it didn’t matter, nothing mattered except the realization that she didn’t own him. No, not even tied to a chair and sitting on his lap.

“I invited a friend here,” she said, leaning in cheek to cheek and stroking the side of his face with one nail. “I hope you don’t mind.”

He wished the sluggishness would subside at a faster rate. A friend like the ones from his childhood? Perhaps a male friend like she’d threatened? Because he’d run? He shook his head, hoping to hit hers, and hoping to shake off the drowsiness.

“What do you mean?” He worked at his hands. “You crazy—” He wouldn’t let fear into the equation. He wasn’t a little boy anymore. Despite a part of him that was screaming from the back of his aching head, this didn’t threaten him. This was the last chance she’d have at him for a while, so she’d better enjoy it while she could. Maybe he could enjoy it too, if he could just get out of his ropes and get his hands around her neck.

She pulled his face to hers, brushed his hair out of his face. “I hate what you’ve done to your hair. You’ve ruined it. Was it to punish me?”

He didn’t speak. Her face finally came into focus and he started to feel sick. Felt like he would throw up, the way he used to. She’d hit his head against a desk when he did. He wondered at everything he’d gone through alone. It’d never occurred to him that someone would believe a foster kid no one wanted over a woman like that. He wondered if throwing up now would get the same treatment.

“You’re still as vomit worthy as ever,” he said, letting his stomach heave. “I think I’ve got a present for you, you heinous—”

“And I think you know what will happen if you do.”

“You just couldn’t let me go,” he said. “You know you’ll be caught this time? Then it will be over for me. And just starting for you.”

She adjusted herself to sink further onto his lap. She cradled his face, came forward and rubbed her nose with his. “You’ll always be mine.” She pulled him against her bosom. “My son.”

Maybe it was the headache wearing off, but his fortress was crumbling around him. Those words. So tender. So kind. The way she held him, her hand around his neck. He was safe. He was home. He’d never left. She’d never touched him in a wrong way. Just the family he’d wanted.

Then dark memories intruded, rising faster than the bile in his stomach, and he pulled back from her violently. He shook his head, desperate to be away from her, tried to move forward to headbutt her. She stepped away and let him shake alone in the chair. He felt blinded, panicked. The room looked clear now, her face looked clear now, and he could now see lines around her mouth and eyes. They reminded him of Jason, but seemed in a position that was put there by evil rather than intelligence. How had this face ever been kind to him? Even still, he was torn between the desire to pull off her head and to rest in her arms. It wasn’t fair to confuse a kid like that. He acknowledged the hurt kid in him but tried to stay in control as an adult.

Why had she waited so long to turn bad? Why had she waited until he loved her? Why did she have to make it so confusing? He could stand the abuse, he could stand the pain, but he couldn’t stand that she’d mixed love in that toxic mess, and made him disgusted by love even now. Even when it came from someone like Molly. He’d been awful. Not that he loved her in that way, but she hadn’t deserved what he’d said, how he’d treated her, simply because she’d been looking at him with the same smile, the same love that Valerie did. Love didn’t have to turn toxic, did it? Maybe it did.

He heard a knock on the door. He looked to Valerie, opened his mouth.

“Told you we’d have a friend.”

“Justin?”

He heard the voice and recognized it even quicker than he usually would have because he’d just been thinking of her. Molly. His whole body went numb.