Solstice (11 page)

“I don’t mind,” he says.

“It’s my mess,” I say. Kind of like this whole situation between me and Reese and Shayne is becoming. A tangle in my mind.

Shayne shakes his head and finishes cleaning the glass off the floor. He reaches for the flowers, but I take them first.

“I’m not a big fan of cut flowers,” I say.

“I know.” And his words echo truth, like he really does know. Like he can see behind my eyes. Which makes me a bit insecure. My thoughts have always been my own.

I move around beside him and set the flowers in the sink, and when I turn, he’s looking right at me. I don’t say anything. And I don’t move. His eyes settle on my face, and unlike Reese, Shayne has no confident outer shell. He’s wearing his inner self on the outside. Like he’s baring his soul to me.

The silence grows with each second until he reaches up and touches my hair.

“You have it down.” He twirls a piece of my curly hair around his finger and then lets it go, watching it bounce back.

I feel my face flush but know with the darkness he can’t see it. “Yeah, I—”

I see his outline nod. “I know. Your date. Did you have fun?”

“I wished it were you instead.”

And the second the words are out, I can’t believe I’ve said them. He’s going to think I’m a pathetic, desperate girl. He probably has girls flocking around him at every turn.

Shayne lets go of my hair and brushes his fingers against the skin of my tattoo. “I wish it were me instead, too.”

My face betrays me, because a grin starts to form there no matter how cool I attempt to act. And Shayne must see it because he smiles, too.

“The coffee’s ready.” I walk back toward the ice cream table. I’m not looking behind me, but his footsteps echo on the tile floor. He’s following me. Which still seems unreal. I sit in the purple seat and leave the yellow one open for him. Both face the forest of plants I grow. I slide one of the cups closer to him. “Do you like it black?”

“It’s the only way to drink it,” he says. When he sets his mug down, I notice his eyes travel back to Reese’s flowers, but he doesn’t say anything.

I’m so tempted to reach out and touch Shayne’s face. He’s so close—just across the table from me. “Are you guys friends?” I ask.

Shayne takes another sip of his coffee. “Reese and I?”

I nod and set my hands on the table to keep them from shaking.

Shayne’s hand moves toward mine, as if he wants to take it. But he doesn’t.

“It’s a complicated situation,” Shayne says.

I open my mouth to ask more, but his hand lifts off the table and his fingers move to my lips. “And not the conversation I want to have with you.”

I don’t move a muscle because I don’t want his hand to leave my mouth, but it does, so I take a sip of the hot coffee to again clear my mind. “What conversation do you want to have then?” I ask.

Shayne leans back into the heart shape of the chair. “Tell me the funniest thing that ever happened to you.”

My mind starts churning as I attempt to piece out something funny that’s happened to me in my life. “How about a different topic.”

“There must be something.”

“I haven’t led a very funny life.” Between homeschool and moving, humor’s been a low priority. But I don’t want him to think I’m a total bore.

He purses his lips. “You have a whole lifetime ahead of you to change that.”

My heart skips at the thought of my future. And I’m reminded I am eighteen now. I need to get away from my mom. “How about you?” I say. “Tell me something funny about your life.”

Shayne seems to consider this for a moment. “You’ll think I’m horrible.”

“No way,” I say.

“Promise?”

I nod.

“Okay,” he says. “There was this time when I was little. I was hanging out with my best friend. And, well, my father had this one clock that he just loved. It was huge.”

“Like a grandfather clock?”

His arms circle way up toward the ceiling. “Way bigger. It was as tall as this room. My father’s got this fascination with time. Can’t get enough of it. He has about a million clocks and spends every waking hour making sure they’re perfectly synchronized.”

“Sounds like a fun hobby.”

“More like an obsession,” Shayne says. “Anyway, this one day, my dad was gone, and my best friend was over, and we climbed to the top of the clock and changed it so it would be a few seconds off.”

I can almost picture Shayne at the top of a huge grandfather clock. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You wouldn’t think so, but the first time it chimed after all the others, my dad couldn’t believe it. He checked and rechecked all those clocks for days. And then he finally got them synchronized up again.”

I know where this story is going. “So you changed it again.”

Shayne nods. “The first time he thought it was a malfunction. But then, after the second time, he set up security everywhere. And then he waited.”

“So what’d you do?” Every word draws me in and connects me to him. I wish I’d been a part of the experience.

Shayne shrugs. “We changed it again.”

“But what about the security?”

He finishes his coffee and sets the mug down on the yellow table surface. “Sure, it got harder, but that only made it more of a challenge.”

“Did he ever find out it was you?”

“Nope. In fact, it kind of drove him crazy until one day I went into the room and the clock was in a million pieces.” He seems to consider this for a moment. “He’s probably still working on fixing it.”

“There’s no way I can top that.” It’s a way better story than Reese shaving his sister’s head. I trace my finger around on top of the coffee mug and say a silent prayer Shayne won’t leave.

But he pushes his chair out and stands up. “It’s really nice here. Kind of like your own private oasis from global warming.”

The Botanical Haven is a nice place to live with the vivid colors of all the living things around me and the peace of the greenhouses out back. But I know I’m not meant to live with my mom for the rest of my life. I stand up also, and though we’re still across the table from each other, it’s like we’re only inches apart.

“I want to move out.”

His muscles visibly tense. “Where do you want to go?”

“California maybe. To college with Chloe. I want to study law. But my mom wants me to stay here and go to UT.” Without even realizing I’m doing it, I take a step closer to him. And he does the same. And then we really are only inches apart.

“It’s beautiful here,” he says and touches my arm.

My breath catches in my throat. “Maybe when my mom’s not around.”

His eyes meet mine, and each second that passes stretches into eternity. I hold his gaze, and even though my heart is pounding out of my chest, I don’t look away. And then Shayne leans in and kisses me. His lips brush mine for only a second, and it’s so soft, it’s more like a whisper. The kiss is exquisite—a perfect moment tucked into my oppressive life. Reese’s kiss had been all about the physical, but Shayne’s is empathic. Like in its simple motion, my soul is bared.

He pulls back and looks at me. And I’m sure he’s trying to gauge my reaction. I stand still but my mind is going a million miles an hour. Before tonight I’d never kissed a guy, and now I’ve kissed both Reese and Shayne. I remember my conversation with Reese about soulmates. And I’m hit with the overwhelming sensation that Shayne, not Reese, could be mine.

“Your mom should go away more often,” he says.

I laugh in an attempt to relax, which isn’t going to happen. “My mom should go away permanently.”

When I say it, his face falls into a cynical grin. “If only life were that easy.”

“Do you want another cup of coffee?” I want him to sit back down and stay here forever.

He shakes his head. “I need to go.”

I open my mouth and am about to ask him to stay, but then I remind myself that I don’t want to sound pathetic. “Are you sure?” It’s not like my mom goes away every weekend.

He looks at me, and his eyes tell me he’s not sure. That he wants to stay here as much as I want him to. But his words disagree. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze, and I know I can’t stop him from going.

He lets go of my hand and walks to the door. I watch him from where I stand, and then he’s gone. And I’m left in the dark alone.

I walk to the cash register, move behind the counter, and sink to the floor. It’s only after I sit there for ten minutes that I’m able to clear my head. Sweat pours off me, but I can’t stand up and put the fans on. My legs won’t hold me, and my dress sticks to me around my thighs.

I don’t move until his presence evaporates, and only then do I head back to the sink where the pink calla lilies rest. I still feel life within the exposed stems. Weakening, but they can last longer—if I want them to. An odd urge to smash them hits me. To throw them in the compost pile and pretend my date never happened, but I can’t do that. Moving around the Botanical Haven, I look for the perfect vase. And I move into my routine, there in the dark, watering and taking care of the plants.

A
fter Shayne leaves, I hardly sleep; Tanni keeps invading my dreams. I toss around on my cotton sheets, hoping to find a position to keep her out, but she comes back each time with her empty eye sockets and words of doom.

I know her words aren’t true. But they repeat over and over in my head—a haunting mantra. I will see Chloe tomorrow. We have plans. She’ll call in the morning.

I wake before the alarm, clicking it off and checking for messages. My mom hasn’t called, which is so far from her normal overbearing nature, I wonder if she lost her FON. I think about texting her to make sure she’s okay, but I don’t want my father to see any messages I send. Maybe I’ll text her later, or maybe even tonight after bedtime.

I relax and think about the night before. Thinking of Reese leaves me disoriented. I know it’s wrong to cut flowers and drink under age, but I loved breaking the rules. It was intoxicating and frightening all at the same time, and made me want to do more. He offered up a reckless freedom, one that my mom would kill me if she knew about. Not that she’d be any happier about Shayne. When I think of him, a comforting warmth runs through me, and I keep him in my mind the whole time I’m showering and getting dressed, hoping the memories never fade.

It’s not until I push the button on the coffee machine that Chloe calls. I mute the tube and answer.

“We still on for today?”

The sound of her voice sings into my ear. I know she won’t die. She’s my best friend. I touch my tattoo with my free hand, and run my fingers over the imprint. But as much as I want to get out, all the reporters have been talking about this morning is the heat bubble they’re sure is going to form around the city.

“Have you seen the news?” I say. “Maybe we should stay inside.”

I can almost hear Chloe shake her head. “No way, Piper. We are not staying inside the first day of your freedom.”

I glance at the tube and see Councilman Rendon talking with an image of a disperser missile inset behind him. I don’t have to hear him to know he’s convincing the world the missiles are safe.

“You could just come over,” I suggest even though I don’t want to stay in either.

“Turn it off,” Chloe says.

“What?”

“The tube. Turn it off now. You need to stop watching the news,” she says.

“But they’re predicting the bubble will form before noon.” And my thoughts go to my mom. Will she be safe from the heat wherever she is?

“So it gets hot,” Chloe says. “It’s hot every day. Just turn off the news and get ready.”

“Fine.” I click off the tube, and my mind quiets down instantly. Maybe I should watch less bad news.

She says she’ll be by in a half hour; shuttle routes don’t make it much easier than that. I have so much to tell her. About Reese. About Shayne. I can hardly wait. But when Chloe hangs up, Tanni’s voice returns.

I push it away, and grab a nectarine, cutting it with a knife and pulling out the seed. One benefit of owning the Botanical Haven—we grow lots of fruit, so even with the Global Heating Crisis, shortages are never a concern for us. It’s sweet and juicy, and when I take a bite, the juice runs down my chin. I think of Shayne barely kissing me, but he’s quickly replaced by Reese. Had he really told me he loved me? Had I really enjoyed his kiss so much?

When I see Chloe walking up, I check the temperature. One hundred and thirteen. Still in the safe zone. I can only hope the reports are wrong. Still, the second I step outside, the heat punches me like a fist.

“It feels hotter than a hundred and thirteen,” I say.

Chloe shoots me a look. “We’re not staying in.”

“Right,” I say. “We’re not staying in.” I clip my water bottle on my shorts and hand Chloe one of my mom’s herbal heat suppressors. They’re brown disks that look like cow patties, but my mom swears they help the body process heat better.

Chloe wrinkles up her nose. “Those things are disgusting.”

“They aren’t that bad,” I say, and force it into her hand. I already had two this morning. Chloe’s right; they taste even worse than they look.