True Bliss (2 page)

She couldn't help smiling at him. "I guess. Why did you drop out?"

His clasp tightened. "Family thing. I thought I was proving something. It was dumb."

"You're back now," she said, feeling sorry for him, for the anger she saw in the sharply drawn lines of his face. "It's no big deal."

Sebastian looked into her eyes. "I've never done this before."

She wasn't sure what he meant.

"I mean ... I've never felt I wanted to get to know a girl the way I want to know you."

Bliss resisted the temptation to make another check for spies.

"Say something." He settled his free hand on top of hers. "You let me hold your hand. You can't totally hate me."

"I don't! I like you." She couldn't believe she'd said it.

Sebastian's smile widened. The smile showed strong, square teeth, and made gold flecks glitter in his green eyes. "That's cool. Gee, I can't believe . . . Hey, d'you want to take in a movie?"

Bliss's mind went blank.

"I don't know what's showing. Don't go to movies much."

"I can't." But she wanted to. Bliss dragged her teeth over her bottom lip. "My folks—"

"Sure." He grimaced and released her hand. "It was a dumb idea anyway."

"My folks don't let me go anywhere unless it's somewhere they set up," she told him in a rush. "I'd like to go to the movies with you. I really would. But—"

"You mean it?"

She nodded emphatically.

This time his smile spread slowly. Bliss felt her own smile in response—and a ripple of excitement.

"You're free this period every day."

Bliss swallowed. "Yes."

"We could kind of make this our time . . . Lunch and the fifth period. If you want to."

She didn't trust herself to say anything.

"We could go somewhere. Maybe to the library. The Seattle Public Library. We could study together."

Bliss laughed.

His grin became wry. "Sounds out of character, huh? I pull down pretty good grades. They'd be even better if I put some effort in."

"You look different when you smile. I didn't think you ever did that."

"Never had much reason." He wasn't smiling now. "You could consider it a service project—helping big, bad, Sebastian improve himself—at the library."

"I don't know."

"You're afraid people will see us together and start talking."

"No. I go to the library. There's almost never anyone from school there."

He dipped his head to look at her again. She liked the way he did that. "So, Bliss, will you come tomorrow?"

"I shouldn't."

"You can drive your car and I'll use my wheels?"

"I don't know."

"What's to lose? We'll hardly even be able to talk. We'd get shushed."

"I guess you're right." Why shouldn't she choose her own friends? Why shouldn't she do some of the things other girls did?

"Tomorrow then?" He frowned a little, and she saw his throat jerk. "Public library?"

"Yes."

* * *

Twelve weeks today.

Every day for twelve weeks—except for weekends and school vacations—they'd met during lunch and the fifth period. Mostly they went to the library, but they'd also gone to a little beach park occasionally. Today was cold, especially for May. They'd be at the library again.

There wasn't time to go to his locker. Sebastian slung his gym bag over his shoulder and made a dash for the parking lot.

As always, the crowd in the corridor parted to make way for him. They didn't know him, but they'd singled him out for a lousy rap he hadn't earned—unless keeping to himself was a sin.

He had to get to the lot before Bliss drove away.

Bliss, Bliss, Bliss. He could close his eyes and see her face. Hell, he saw her face every moment, awake and asleep. How could all these jerks have missed what a babe she was, how terrific-looking she was?

His good luck they had missed the signs, not that any of them was her type.

And he was?

Yeah, he was. Bliss said so, and it was true.

He shoved open an orange door leading from a corridor beside the little theater to athletic fields and the parking lots.

The sky was a pale, steel gray—clear, swept free of clouds by the steady wind that bent soldier-precise lines of firs between parking strips.

Wearing her puffy red parka, Bliss hurried toward her car.

"Hold up." Sebastian ran down the steps from the back of the building. "Hey, Bliss! Wait for me!"

She heard him and spun around, and stood still.

He knew, even before he drew close enough to see, that she'd be frowning, that she'd be worried something was wrong. They had an agreement never to draw attention to their relationship, not at school, not anywhere.

Sebastian broke into a run, lowered his head and pounded toward her.

"What is it?" He heard the panic in her voice. "Sebastian! What's happened?"

He reached her, caught her around the waist and lifted her off the ground. Into her neck he said, "Have I told you what a terrific kisser you are?"

She held absolutely still for a moment, then pummeled his shoulders with her fists. "You rotten, evil person. You low, wormy, sneaky, critter. You—"

"Ooh, I hate it when people swear."

Bliss thumped him again. "I didn't swear. You frightened me. And if someone sees us like this we'll never hear the last of it. Let me down. Now. D'you hear me? Let me down."

He dropped her as suddenly as he'd picked her up and she let out a strangled, "Oomph!" before grabbing at his sweatshirt to steady herself.

Sebastian held her hands against his chest. "First you don't want me to touch you. Then, when I let you go, you maul me. What's a guy to think?"

She drew her hands away as if they burned, but she smiled that sweet, soft smile that lighted up her blue eyes. He'd never known another girl with dark red hair and blue eyes. If the rest of those morons had taken the time to check behind her glasses, they'd have found out what they were missing.

"I'm going to make you wear sunglasses all the time, Bliss. Dark sunglasses. Very dark."

"Huh?" The palm of her right hand slid beneath his hair to feel his forehead. "Are you sick?"

"Nope. Ain't got no whee-heels," he sang, mimicking the heartbroken voice of a country singer. "Ain't got no whee-heels. I'd go to the lib-brar-ree wi' my girl, but I ain't got no whee-heels."

The crunch of approaching footsteps on gravel injected a shred of caution into his up mood. Smoothing his expression he looked over his shoulder and saw Chuck Rubber—who actually thought his name was macho!—and Crystal Moore. Pausing every few steps to perform mouth-to-mouth with enough

suction to syphon a fifty-gallon tank empty in about a second, they bore down on Bliss and Sebastian. Sebastian looked at Bliss and put a finger to his lips.

"Hey, you two," he said cheerfully. "Don't suppose you've got jumper cables?"

Chuck—the school's prize running back—leered at Sebastian and said, "Some of us don't need jumper cables, Plato." He gave Bliss far too long a look. "Hi, there, Chilly, baby. This guy putting the make on you?"

Sebastian took a step toward Rubber, only to experience a jab of pain when Bliss "accidentally," stomped on his foot.

"I've got cables," she said, sounding out of breath. "I expect that's what you were going to ask me about, Sebastian."

He read the plea in her eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, that was it." There wasn't time for these idiots anyway. "I'd appreciate borrowing them."

"Sure." Bliss turned on her heel and walked rapidly toward the BMW.

"Run along," Rubber said. "When the little rich girl calls, the big poor boy follows."

Crystal must finally have felt the approach of danger. She wrapped both hands through Chuck Rubber's arm and pulled. "Come on, Chuck," she wheedled. "You promised we'd have some fun. Come on."

Rubber looked down into her violet eyes, and lower, and Sebastian decided against any close examination of the guy's bodily reactions. He could almost feel the pressure inside Rubber's fly.

"Here they are," Bliss called. "I think."

Pawing mindlessly, Crystal and Chuck trotted away, climbed steps to another strip of cars, and hurried out of sight.

"That's enough time wasted," Sebastian said. "Let's go."

Bliss made him hide in the back seat while they drove from the campus. Once on the city streets, he sat up and leaned over her shoulder. "Hey, sweetheart. Don't drive so fast. I scare easily."

"Don't joke around. That was too close back there. Where's your truck?"

Sebastian whistled soundlessly before saying, "In the shop."

"How did you get to school?"

"Bus."

She laughed. "School bus? That must have been something. It's a wonder they let you on."

"Not the school bus, smarty. Metro bus."

The drive to the library took only minutes and, unbelievably, a parking space opened up as they arrived.

For the first time, Sebastian walked up the steps and into the building at Bliss's side. He felt waves of anxiety coming from her.

"Loosen up," he told her. "Nobody's taking any notice of us."

"I wouldn't care if they did. I'd like it if they did, except for the row I'd face if someone told my folks they saw me here with a guy."

Sebastian didn't tell her what he thought of her parents. "Newspapers. I need to look up something in yesterday's New York Times."

"Really?"

"Really. I'll tell you about it."

As soon as she was seated, with her books spread before her, Sebastian got his newspaper and sat opposite. He opened the paper, held it up, shook it a couple of times, and let it drop on top of the book Bliss was reading. He pored over a small article at the bottom of a page.

"Psst!"

"Hmm?" He controlled his desire to grin.

"Psssst!" Bliss hissed. "Sebastian."

Several, "Shushes," sounded around them.

Sebastian continued to read. He reached under the paper and sought Bliss's fingers. When he looked up, she was staring at him.

He smiled at her. God, he loved her. He really loved her.

Gradually her lips parted and her eyes widened.

Sebastian withdrew his hand, shook the paper mightily and folded it. "Ready to go?"

Her mouth remained open. "Sebastian!"

"Shush!"

She sent the irritated man to her right a dazed glance.

Sebastian got up, went around the table, and sat beside her. He put his mouth close to her ear and whispered, "Well, what d'you say?"

"How ... I mean, where did you get it? Oh, Sebastian, I don't know what to say."

On the ring finger of her left hand he'd placed a simple gold band with three small but pretty diamonds at its center. From his pocket he took the box. Flipping it open, he showed her what was inside. "This is the match. The wedding ring."

Tears slid silently down her cheeks.

"Hey." He rubbed them away with a thumb. "Did I make you unhappy?"

"No. Happy."

"Then you will marry me?"

"I want to."

"Listen. I know we'll have to wait till you're eighteen. That's about a month, right?"

She nodded. "My folks will—"

"Flip. Yeah, I know. So you won't be able to wear the ring when they might see it. I got this, too." He produced the gold chain he'd bought. "You'll only wear the ring on your finger when we're together—until we're married. You can put it on this around your neck for the rest of the time. Okay?"

He heard her swallow.

"I'm going to work, and go to college. Study business. We'll make it fine. Your folks will come around once we're married."

Bliss rested the ring against her lips and swiveled in her seat to face him. "Either they'll come around or they won't have a daughter. I get to choose who's most important in my life and I choose you."

He wanted to yell. Instead he hugged her—and ignored the tuts and shushes.

"Sebastian, I know I'm not supposed to ask, but how did you manage to buy the ring?"

"I stole it."

She jerked away, her mouth opening again.

He shook his head and chuckled. "No, I didn't. I bought it. And you shouldn't ask. We'd better get back to school before we're late. When we're in the car I'll put the chain on for you."

A little unsteady, Bliss got to her feet and started pushing her unread books back in her bag. She paused and looked at him. "What's wrong with the truck?"

He shrugged and returned the paper.

When he returned, Bliss caught his sleeve. "You always fix your own truck."

"Not this time." He offered her a downturned grimace. "Don't think the old jalopy's going to recover at all. Terminal, so the people in the shop said."

"Oh, Sebastian, you fibber. You sold it, didn't you?"

He took the book she held and tucked it into her bag. "We really have to hurry."

"Didn't you?" Her pointed chin jutted toward him. "You sold your truck."

Lies didn't belong between people who intended to spend a lifetime together. "It was old. It's good for me to walk more anyway."

"You sold that truck you love to buy the rings. Admit it."

Sebastian kissed the ring on her finger and looked into her eyes. "I sold the truck to buy rings for the girl I love more than anything in the world."

Evening hadn't taken all the sting out of the day's sultry late-June heat. Bliss wiped the back of a hand over her damp brow and opened the car window a crack.

Ahead of her, across Western Avenue, the homeless people

drifted into Victor Steinbrueck Park to stake their overnight claims to grassy beds with a water view. A few couples and families remained, stretching their Saturday outings.

The sun had begun to slide lower over Seattle's Elliott Bay. Already, on the far side of the bay, the Olympic Mountains showed in black outline against a sky turned the color of molten lava and ribbed with trailing scarves of purple cloud.

Bliss clutched the wheel and straightened her arms. This was the night. The night and the time. Tonight she and Sebastian would leave Seattle and they wouldn't come back until it was too late for anyone to challenge their marriage.

Marriage. They were going to be married. The ring she so loved, but had been forced to hide in the weeks since Sebastian gave it to her, was on her finger now. The few possessions she'd absolutely had to bring—not enough to be difficult to get out of the house without comment—were in the trunk.