Authors: Maria Rachel Hooley
Tags: #Angels, #love, #maria rachel hooley, #Romance, #sojourner, #teen, #teenager, #womens fiction, #Young Adult
“
That depends on what you
call ‘fun.’” A group of students stand in our path, forcing us to
move to the side to brush past.
“
Not watching the grass or
basket weaving, that’s for sure.”
Kane chuckles. “We go out to the Cherokee
National Forest a lot. Do some camping. Go swimming in the Tellico
River. That sort of thing.”
“
Figures,” I
mutter.
“
Meaning?” Another narrow
passage through students. Doesn’t anybody go to class?
“
There’re no bowling alleys
or movie theaters here, are there? Nothing even remotely resembling
the modern world.”
He shrugs. “Basically.” At this point, he
gestures to a classroom to my right. “That’s our math class. Ms.
Martin is pretty strict. You definitely don’t want to get on her
bad side.”
I want to burst out laughing because Jimmie
has unknowingly placed me in yet another small town where I’ll
stand out like a rose bush blooming in December. Camping and
fishing aren’t exactly on my list of preferred activities, so this
could definitely be one long senior year.
“
What about cemeteries?” I
ask as we head into the classroom, our bodies sandwiched between
two other small groups.
“
Graveyards? Why?” He’s
looking at me like I’ve suddenly morphed into a green-skinned
monster.
“
What—you have something
against them?”
He shakes his head. “Not sure how to answer
that, Lizzie.”
I chuckle; his confused expression says it
all. “No, I’m not some freak. I like to take pictures of statues,
and sometimes I find cool ones in cemeteries, that’s all. Feel
better?”
“
Definitely.”
Although I figured we would beat Sarah and
Jayzee, they must have passed us in the hall because in the back of
the room I see the two of them sitting across from one another,
whispering. We slide into our seats behind them, and they giggle at
our arrival.
Kane kicks the back of Jayzee’s chair.
“What’s so funny?” Although he pretends to scowl, I can tell he’s
just giving her a hard time.
“
Nothing.”
“
Really?” He leans forward
and gooses her sides just as the bell rings. The teacher, a woman
in her mid-twenties wearing a soft, flowing pink dress, waves a
chiding finger at him.
“
Now, Mr. Bristow, this
isn’t the place for that kind of nonsense.”
“
What kind would you
prefer?” he asks, offering a good natured grin. “Oh, sorry, Ms.
Martin. Too much fun this summer, I guess.” He clears his throat
and leans back in his seat, his long legs edging into the
aisle.
She nods at him, accepting his apology, and
takes roll. Soon after, she begins going over her class procedures,
and even as I jot down notes, I still feel Kane watching me, his
dark eyes carefully studying my profile. I’m wondering if he’s just
an ace student or if he’ll eventually apply himself to the work
instead of watching me.
At any other time I probably would have been
ecstatic to meet a guy like Kane, someone who seemed pretty decent.
But right now, as I stare ahead at a blackboard covered with notes
I really don’t care about, all I can think about is Lev and how
unfair it is he’s gone. Same song, different verse, I know. I just
miss him, and I don’t see that changing any time soon.
The rest of the day blurs together, and I
notice that Kane shares a lot of the same classes I do. Still, he’s
not so intense as Griffin was my first day at Hauser’s Landing. I
have enough room to breathe, even though I know Kane’s
interested.
After school, Sarah and Jayzee invite me to
go to the park and hang out. Apparently Kane likes shooting hoops.
At first, I’m not sure because Jimmie might react to me not getting
home, even if I am trying to be good and make friends. Then again,
he’s been in Knoxville spending a whole lot of time with Theresa,
so how is he going to know whether I go straight home after school?
I could definitely use some unwinding.
So, after the final bell rings and I shove my
books into my locker, I find Jayzee and Sarah together in the
hallway and walk with them a couple of blocks from the school to
the park, where there’s a basketball court. I’m on the verge of
asking about Kane when I see he’s already arrived, playing against
an equally tall and formidable-looking guy with hair so dark it’s
almost black. It’s a sunny, still day, and even though it’s late
afternoon, the heat clings to us like am extra layer of skin. In
fact, Kane and his partner, who couldn’t have been here more than
ten minutes, have already shed their shirts, revealing deeply
bronzed skin from hours spent outside. The muscles in their arms
and chest are tightly sculpted and each movement accentuates their
build.
The girls and I walk over to a line of
benches and sit, clearly watching the guys. Although Kane isn’t
paying any attention to me, I’m sure he knows I’m here.
“
Who’s that?” I
ask.
“
Colin,” Sarah replies, her
voice wistful and dreamy, just like her eyes as she watches
him.
Jayzee laughs and shakes her head. “They have
a…thing… if you couldn’t tell.”
“
Yeah, that’s pretty
clear.” I study Sarah as she watches her boyfriend. She raises one
hand to her mouth and begins biting her nails, so focused she
doesn’t even realize when she’s bitten past the quick, causing
blood to darken beneath the nail and rise to the surface. Weird.
Most people bite their nails when they’re worried about something,
but I’m not sure I sense worry in her.
“
Is that the guy Scott was
giving you grief about?”
She nods. “Yep. Not that he’s even met Colin.
He thinks he knows everything.” Her expression hardens, and she
starts chewing her nails even harder, baffling me as to how she
doesn’t feel pain. Aside from that, at least there is one person on
my side about Scott. He does think he knows everything.
“
Did you ever notice
anything weird about him?”
Before Sarah can answer, the ball slips from
Kane’s fingers and shoots off the court toward us. While Sarah and
Jayzee start to duck, I reach up and catch the ball.
“
Nice!” Kane shouts, giving
me an approving grin.
I launch it back at him, and he snatches it
out of the air like the ball belongs in his hand, making me suspect
the boy plays more basketball than not. For a moment, I keep
staring at him, even after he goes back to playing and I sit back
down.
“
What do you mean by
weird?”
Unsure how to put what I really want to say,
I shrug. “I don’t know. Something about him just seems strange.
He’s totally different than anyone I’ve met before.”
Sarah shrugs and finally takes a break from
chewing her nails. “He’s a control freak—likes the ball in his
court, if you know what I mean.”
“
Do I ever,” I mutter,
shaking my head. “How long have you and Colin been going
out?”
“
Six months.” She smiles
brightly. “Isn’t he amazing?”
Although I can tell she’s totally stuck on
him, I’m not quite as enamored. For one thing, although I can’t
really say I see anything unusual about him, something inside tells
me he’s different. Then again, something inside once told me that
no matter what, Lev would always be there. Sure. Whatever.
“
So what do you think of
Kane?” Jayzee asks, and even though her voice is casual, her
question feels anything but.
“
I don’t know. Seems nice
enough.”
“
Nice enough?” she shoots
back, turning her full frown at me as though she can’t believe I
just said that. “Did you even check out the packaging? Or are you
blind?”
I shrug. “So he’s cute. What do you want me
to say?”
Not answering, she turns back to the boys.
Their skin is slicked with sweat, adding a sheen to their bodies,
accentuating the muscles all the more. Kane dribbles the ball and
rushes toward the goal. Although Colin raises his arms, trying to
block the shot, Kane lobs it over his palms, and the ball arcs
slowly into the basket.
The guys come toward us. Sarah offers Colin a
bottle of water, and Kane picks up one beside Jayzee. He smiles at
me while taking a drink, trying to catch his breath.
“
So,” Kane begins, “How do
you feel about getting together on Friday night and renting some
DVDs?”
“
They rent those here? How
progressive,” I retort, unsure how to answer. I don’t think I’m
ready to date, no matter how cute Kane is.
“
Yeah, smartie, they do.
Come on. We always get together on the weekends, usually at
Jayzee’s place.”
So it’s not a date, not that that really
helps me because I’m still Grounded Girl, the superhero with no
life. Mmmm. Would Jimmy know?
The point is suddenly mute as Griffin
suddenly drives up and nods for me to come to his vehicle. “Oh,
great,” I mutter, grabbing my book bag.
“
Who’s that?” Jayzee asks,
obvious interest in her voice.
“
A friend,” I retort,
waving as I head toward Griffin.
“
What are you doing,
Lizzie? Aren’t you supposed to be grounded?” Griffin meets me
halfway, and while his tone is light, I can tell he’s
worried.
“
Yeah, well, Jimmie always
worries about me making new friends. I knew I’d be home before he
would.”
At that moment, Griffin
looks over at the group, first at Kane
and
then at Jayzee. I’d swear his pupils suddenly dilate, but then
again that’s probably just me seeing things again.
“
Who is that?” he asks, and
without clarification, I know he’s referring to Jayzee. Part of me
wants to give him a hard time, but the other part suspects he won’t
hear it.
“
That’s Jayzee,” I mutter.
“Now please close your mouth before you drool all over your nice
shirt, Griffin. Let’s go home.” Although he lets me lead him, he’s
still looking at Jayzee, and Jayzee’s looking back.
Chapter
Nine
“
What did you say her name
was?”
It’s the third time Griffin has asked me
about Jayzee, and I’m thinking he’s got brain damage. What else
explains his slack jaw at the sight of her and his apparent
inability to retain something as simple as a two-syllable word?
The whole drive home, he’s been distant, only
giving me an acknowledging “mmhmm” or “yeah” when he sensed a break
in the conversation that needed some kind of response.
“
Her name is Jayzee,” I
snap as we pull into the driveway. “And the moon is made of blue
cheese.” I stare at him, wondering if I’ll get a response I can
deal with, like “Blue cheese?”
“
What an unusual name,” he
murmurs, staring straight ahead.
I sigh and get out. No point. At length, he
follows me to the door and goes to the spare bedroom while I head
to my own room, trying to sort through everything. In the back of
my head, I feel thoughts of Kane nagging at me, trying to make me
focus on him, but I refuse. He’s a nice guy, I tell myself. But I’m
leaving it at that.
No, what’s really disturbing me is Griffin’s
reaction to Jayzee, which reminds me of Jimmie and Theresa, and
while both women are beautiful, I don’t see the allure that seems
to blind them both to everything else. I sit on the bed and grab my
literature book, figuring I’ll do a little not-so-light reading and
get it over with.
Griffin knocks at the open door and slips in.
“You wouldn’t happen to know Jayzee’s phone number would you?”
“
867-5309.” I rattle off,
but when he starts to scribble it down on his palm, I say, “I was
joking, Griffin. I don’t have a clue. I just met her.”
“
Oh.” He’s staring at his
palm as though wishing that number were real. “Can you get
it?”
He turns his gaze toward me for the first
time since seeing Jayzee, and even so, I can see the distraction in
his wistful gaze, as though I’m not really here in his mind. He’s
all about Jayzee now.
“
Probably. But I don’t know
why you’re so interested. She’s not exactly your type.” I push the
bangs back from my face.
“
Oh, and what is my type?”
He leans against the door molding, his gaze sharp and penetrating.
As he stands there, he appears a stranger. I recognize his Izod
shirt and Dockers shorts. I see the gold watch draping his wrist.
Everything about him seems like Griffin, but his eyes are
different—distant somehow—and I struggle with trying to understand
the sudden shift. I know things weren’t great for him at home, but
is he really in that big of a hurry to hook up with the first
pretty girl he meets?
No, that’s not it. It’s more than that. I
don’t know how I know, but I do.
“
I don’t know. Just not
her.” I can’t take this weirdness. I slam the book shut and brush
past him.
“
Where are you going?”
Griffin asks.
“
To get some fresh air.” I
grab my purse and head for the front door, waiting for him to say
something about Jimmie or grab my arm, but he doesn’t. So I stride
out the front door, and crawl into my Jeep, well aware the window
is still broken but not really caring. Come winter if it’s still
broken, I’m sure I’ll get more than a little upset, but right now,
the air outside burns with August, so it’s not like a pane of glass
is going to matter. The added ventilation might even
help.
Even as I start the engine and back out, I
keep expecting Griffin to come running out of the house, and it’s
hard to believe I’ve escaped, even after I’m driving down the road,
heading toward the cemetery to snap some pictures of the statues.
Maybe it’ll help me relax; I need that. There’s just too much
weirdness in my life for my own good. Besides, there’s something
refreshing about feeling the air ripple through my hair as I
drive.