Lately, I have all the privacy I could want and it’s sort of hellish.
When Morgan’s dad comes back, he seems exhausted and I regret some of my resentment over being delegated. I can’t imagine what kind of problems would plague a CEO, so I should cut him some slack. It’s not like I’m entitled to his time and attention.
I’m just … lonely. I miss my mom and dad. And Jason.
“Productive day?” I ask.
He stares at the meal I’ve laid out. “Is it a special occasion?”
“Huh?”
“Normally when I work late on the weekend you make me eat alone.”
Maybe I’m too sensitive, but there seems to be a major rift between Morgan and her dad. “Oh. I guess I’m trying to be more understanding. How am I doing?”
“Great,” he says, smiling, but his eyes are wary and watchful.
He doesn’t say much as we eat but I can tell he’s preoccupied. Asking doesn’t yield any results, though. Mr. Frost only says, “I’ll take care of it. You focus on feeling better, okay?”
“Sure,” I mutter. “I’ll just sit quietly and watch my flesh knit together.”
That doesn’t faze Mr. Frost. “On that note, you have an appointment Tuesday morning to get your stitches out. Flint will take you.”
“I’m fine to drive myself. I’ll take it easy, I promise.”
Hesitating, he looks me over as I pick at my roasted vegetables and tofu. Since my lack of appetite might mess things up, I take a huge bite and smile. My head’s still swirling from what I learned from Nathan, so it’s an effort, but it seems to reassure Mr. Frost. I can tell his resolve to keep me like a caged bird is weakening, though.
I press the advantage. “Do you want me to develop a phobia of driving or something? The longer you keep me from getting behind the wheel—”
“They say you should get right back on the horse that threw you, right?”
I’m not sure that applies if the “horse” in question killed your best friend, but since I want the freedom Morgan flaunted, I don’t object to his analogy.
“What time’s my appointment?” I prompt.
He finally gives me the info and reminds me it’s at the clinic where I had the checkup before, like I’m brain damaged in addition to being banged up. I swallow a cranky retort and promise to be there on schedule.
“You sure you don’t want anyone with you? Wanda can—”
“No, I’m good. But I’ll miss the first few periods of school. Don’t forget to call that in.”
“I’ll e-mail the principal and the attendance secretary now.” Mr. Frost gets out his phone and from that point on, it’s like I’m not even there.
I don’t want to sit with him. I don’t want to eat. I just want to run. And I’m not even sure why. A haunting sweetness drifts to me on the air-con breeze, a familiar woman’s perfume; I’ve smelled it twice before, but I still can’t remember the name. My knee starts to jog.
Need to go, now. I mumble an excuse, but he doesn’t look up from his screen as I hurry upstairs. Once the bedroom door shuts behind me, an odd sense of sanctuary steals over me. The tightness in my chest recedes and I let out a long, slow breath.
Is this how Morgan felt?
Sitting down at the desk, I get out the list I made and draw a line through the first question. Now I know what secret Nathan and Morgan shared, and I kind of wish I didn’t. I also cross off the blackmail issue. It’s a profound relief to realize that there isn’t a sketchy individual about to send incriminating evidence to Mr. Frost. While I’m all for Jack Patterson being punished, I can’t take action until I at least try to finish what Morgan started. Whatever my misgivings, however conflicted I feel, I owe her that much.
The rest of the weekend, I rest and work on projects I have no idea how to complete. With a miserable pang, I think about all the science and math I’m missing. Instead of studying what I want, I’ll turn in substandard work and try to talk the teachers into going easy on me. From what I’ve seen, Morgan’s good at that.
Monday, I avoid Nathan and hang out with the art kids.
In this clique nobody seems to be dating anyone else, which is what usually kills a group. First comes the hook-up, then the ugly dump, and then the circle takes sides, and pretty soon nobody is talking to anyone else. These guys have been hanging out since freshman year and I don’t remember anything like that.
“When are you inviting us over?” Oscar asks, out of the blue.
I can’t tell if he’s joking. “I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, so how about Wednesday?”
They all seem astonished for, like, ten seconds and then Eric says, “Are you serious? That would be amazing.”
He’s had a crush on Oscar’s younger sister, Kendra, for, like, six months. Everyone knows about it but either Kendra hasn’t gotten the memo or she’s ignoring it. Maybe he’s afraid to make a move because Oscar is one of his best friends. My throat tightens when I recall how Morgan and I watched Eric circling Kendra at Emma’s party a few weeks back. Like a slightly evil sports announcer, she ran such hilarious commentary that I almost peed my pants laughing.
He’s got a beer. Now he’s chugging it. He’s watching her from across the yard. Is this it, ladies and gents? Eric is heading for Kendra. He might speak, he might—oh, no, a last-minute choke and he’s veering off.
Those moments are gone forever; I’m alone in Morgan’s skin. The pain of it washes over me until I don’t know why everyone at the table can’t hear the screaming in my head. It’s so loud, it practically deafens me, but they’re excited, making plans to hang out at the mansion on Wednesday night. I let that wash over me, wishing I could escape like Morgan did. Then I cut that thought down to the quick because it seems like I think she did this to me on purpose. For all I know, it’s something I did, this life I stole.
Thankfully lunch ends soon and I muddle through another day. Clay messages me as I exit my last class. You have your car today?
Yep, I send back.
After gathering my stuff, I head out the front doors into the sunshine. I’m astonished to see him shove off the bike rack and saunter toward me, offering a brilliant smile. “Thought so. If you didn’t talk your dad around by now, well…” He answers my unspoken question next. “I bummed a ride. Since I’m off today, I figured we could do something.”
“Like what?”
He steps into my space so smoothly that I don’t recoil. Clay drops a soft kiss onto my mouth and then unloops my backpack from my shoulders. He doesn’t seem self-conscious about carrying it, though it’s definitely a feminine design. I lead the way to the VW and unlock it, still waiting for an answer as to what he wants to do.
“I’m more interested in what you want.” Like he hasn’t just dropped a massive bombshell on me, he opens the door and gets in.
It feels like forever since anyone’s asked that. The fact that Clay is helming the question, that’s messing with my head. I consider as I start the car.
“How about the mall in Anderson?”
“Is there something specific you need to buy?” he asks.
“Not really. I just want to get out of Renton. Walk around a little, maybe get a drink.”
“Sounds good. I’m all yours today.”
“Yeah?” I’m happier to hear that than I should be but I can’t staunch the thought, At least somebody is.
“Definitely. Remember, I promised to make it up to you if you checked on Nathan on Saturday. And he seems to be doing better now.”
“That was nothing.” As we talk, I pull out of the parking lot and head for the highway.
He brushes the hair away from my face lightly, so gentle that I can hardly believe that he has a bad reputation. “It was something to me.”
I find myself softening toward him, and before I know it, I’m saying, “You know, Nathan and I are having dinner at Liv’s house on Thursday. It might be … bad. Do you think … could I stop by India Ink if I need to see you, afterward?”
His breath hitches, barely audible over the air-con vents blowing chilly air. “When you put it like that, you could do pretty much anything you want, sweets.”
“So that’s a yes?”
He nods. “Close to closing, it’s usually just me and Blue, and she won’t say anything if you swing by.”
“It’s not against the rules?”
“Nah. You just never showed any interest before.” The soft way he says it makes me think maybe he wishes otherwise. He studies my profile for a long moment before adding, “You’re different somehow. Since the accident.”
My heart skips a beat. “I am?”
“Yeah. I feel like an asshole for asking, but … have you changed your mind about us?”
“What do you mean?” There’s a sinking sensation in my stomach.
“Don’t mess with me,” Clay says quietly. “It’s not funny. You know damn well I’m wondering if you want a real relationship now.”