Chapter Three

Ruby

Not his type? What did he mean? Did he think I was a slut? Or was it the piercings? I knew his type, judgmental to the max. All the people on the top looked down on the rest of us. And in our school. Luke Sinclair was at the top of the top.

Well screw him, I thought as I huddled against the door, my hand resting just above the handle in case I need to make a quick get away.

Come on Ruby, I thought to myself. This was Luke Sinclair. Perfect boy. Mr. Nice guy with a touch of tough. Luke would never result to force. He didn’t have too. I’d bet my last nickel that all he had to do with most of the girls around here was smile that deadly smile of his and cock his head to the side and the girls would melt at his feet.

Well, not me. I wasn’t his type, remember. What he really meant was that I wasn’t going to fall for his BS charm so why bother.

A blast of hot air from the heater hit me like a soft pillow. I sighed internally and let the warmth settle over me. Gritting my teeth, I had to fight to keep my eyes opened. It was like all of the day’s craziness came crashing down on me and all I wanted to do was slip away into dreamland.

Luke pulled out of the parking lot and turned right, forcing my mind back to the present reality.

Keeping my hand close to the handle, I glanced over at him. The blue light from the dashboard cast him in a strong shadow. Highlighting his high cheekbones and furrowed brow.

He glanced over at me and gave me a weak smile before focusing on the road. My stomach turned over as an awkward silence grew between us.

That silly silence that just ate at my gut for some reason.

Luke, being Luke Sinclair, was oblivious, Just another day in perfect Ville for him.

At the light, he took a left and headed out of town.

“So, why aren’t your parents home,” I asked, desperate to break this wall of silence.

“They’re visiting my Aunt Charlotte in Portland.”

“Oh,” I responded and once again the quiet fell over us like a wet blanket. Didn’t the boy know how to keep up a conversation?

I was about to ask him another question. About what, I have no idea, when we turned into Lakeland Estates.

So typical Luke, pure middle class. Nice homes with nice lawns. Not the rich part of town. That was over by the lake on the east end. No, but far from poor.

I could tell just by looking. The parents had jobs, the kids were fed each and every night before a hot bath and a comfortable bed. Parents who read stories to their children and made sure to attend every little league game.

The kind of place with neither nannies nor drug dealers

Pure Americana.

My heart hitched for some unknown reason as I bit back a snarky comment. I’d gotten warm and didn’t want to end up spending the night behind a dumpster.

Luke pulled into a driveway and turned off the engine.

“Come on,” he said, nodding towards the gate on the side of the house. “We’ll go in through the back.”

What? Was he afraid I would contaminate his home if I stepped into the main house? The shock of pain that flowed through me made me want to punch something.

Seeing my frown, he laughed gently and shook his head.

“It’s the way I always go in, It’s habit. I don’t like disturbing my parents. Or worse, getting grilled with a hundred questions about my day. So, I just use the back.”

Okay, I could live with that explanation.

The cold air punched me as we got out of the car. Reminding me instantly of what I was avoiding. I might be nervous for some totally unknown reason. But I wasn’t going to freeze to death tonight. Not unless he tried something.

He held the chain link gate open for me and motioned me through. When we got around the back of the house, I saw that the lower level was a daylight basement set up. Just like half the homes in this town.

Too many hills and not enough flat land.

Sliding the glass door open, he flourished a hand wave and motioned me in.

I hesitated for a moment as I stared into the darkness. This was Luke Sinclair, but this was also the unknown. I’m not an idiot.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped in, Luke followed and hit the light switch.

I almost barked out a laugh with relief.

A guy’s man cave if I had ever seen one.

Along the far wall a long dirty cream couch that looked older than Miss Anderson’s dentures and about the same color. Across from it, A fireplace and up on the mantle, a huge flat screen TV. Off to the side, three different gaming consoles. One for each manufacturer.

On the beaten coffee table open cans of Mountain Dew and empty packages of Doritos.

Yep, a guy’s paradise. It even had that unique guy smell. Not sour, but firm. I had a strong feeling that his mother had given up keeping this place clean a long time ago.

“There’s a bathroom back there,” he said, pointing to a door at the end of the room. “And here,” he said opening a cabinet door under the stairs, “Are some sheets and blankets,”

He pulled out two fluffy quilts that looked like they’d been made by someone’s grandmother. I gulped a little. I’d never had a grandmother, let alone a grandmother made quilt.

Our eyes locked onto each other for a brief moment. A second in time that made my insides curl up. We continued to stare into each other’s eyes as if lost. As if the world did not exist.

Then he broke the moment by stepping forward and handing me the blankets.

Taking them from him, I stood there and examined the room. Fighting to shake off this weird feeling that kept crawling up and down my spine.

I knew he had said I wasn’t his type. But come on, I was a girl, he was a guy. We were alone in his house, his parents were gone. Wasn’t this the spot where he casually mentioned sharing a bed. Maybe suggest I owed it to him for saving my freezing butt.

I stood there and clenched my jaw tight before I said something I shouldn’t.

For the briefest of moments, I wondered what I would do if he did say something like that? I thought about how cold it was outside. I thought about how warm and comforting it was in here. And hey, I’d done a lot worse things in my life.

But, Luke didn’t make a move. No innuendo, no sly, or even teasing comment. He just smiled and said, “goodnight.” As he turned and headed up the stairs.

Did he really plan on letting me sleep down here all alone? Wasn’t he worried that I’d steal his stuff? There had to be a couple of hundred dollars worth of video games alone.

I watched him march up the stairs as my world shifted just a little. What had happened? I could feel my forehead crease into a deep frown as I tried to figure it out.

Coming up blank, I sighed heavily and started making up the couch. I guess I really wasn’t his type.

The thought made me laugh. Yeah right Ruby, You’re about as far from what interests Luke Sinclair as a girl can get.

And it’s a good thing, I told myself more than once that night.

.o0o.

Luke

I didn’t get any sleep that night. It was like I’d swallowed a gallon of pure caffeine. My mind refused to turn itself off. All I could think about was the girl downstairs and the trouble she was in.

Sighing, I turned over and punched my pillow into shape. Glancing at the alarm clock for the thousandth time, I shook my head. If I didn’t get to sleep soon, I’d be paying for it all day.

Luckily, sometime in the early hours of the morning, I must have finally drifted off because the alarm pulled me out of a sweet dream about a mystery girl who thought I was the best thing in the world. Smart, cool, and sexy. She laughed at my jokes with real laughter, not the fake kind girls used sometimes, and she looked at me like I was important to her.

I’d spent the dream trying to get a look at her face. But every time I moved, something would get in the way, A bookcase, a black truck, a gray horse. Something was always between me and the girl. Stopping me from doing what needed to be done.

Hitting the alarm a little harder than I should have, I rolled out of bed and tried to shake the cobwebs from my mind. It was going to be a long day. I could feel it in my bones.

I’d woken up in a grumpy mood. Unusual for me. But then, three hours of sleep will do that to a guy. Then I remembered the girl downstairs and suddenly the world didn’t seem such a terrible place.

After a quick shower, I glanced outside to see a two-inch covering of white snow. Just enough to need shoveling. Sighing to myself, I donned jeans and a flannel shirt and grabbed my jacket off the back of my chair.

Coffee, I needed coffee.

Once I got a pot going in the kitchen, I glanced over at the basement door and paused. Was she awake? I wondered, as I put my ear to the door and listened.

Nothing. Was she even still there? Where would she go, you idiot, I thought to myself as I hurried back into the kitchen for that first cup of coffee.

As I stood leaning up against the counter, sipping the coffee, I flashed back to the night before. It was obvious that Ruby was avoiding her step father. And by that fiasco in the diner, and the primal fear in Ruby’s eyes, it was obvious why.

The thought made me shudder and my grip on my cup tightened. The guy needed to be pounded into the ground. No doubt about it. Preferably long and slow so it hurt all the way down.

What must it be like for her? I wondered. No safe place. Nowhere to turn. Especially for a girl like Ruby. There was no way she’d ever go to the authorities. No way she would ever admit she needed help. Nope, not her. Miss independent.

Shaking my head, I started gathering the things I needed to make breakfast.

A strong urge to impress her suddenly washed over me. I didn’t know why. But I wanted to see her smile when I served her a breakfast fit for a queen.

She might not even still be there, I told myself before I got started. No use going to all this trouble unless you know for sure.

Using that as an excuse, I went to the basement door and knocked a couple of times, then waited.

No answer. It was like a world of emptiness behind the door.

Shaking my head as I pushed down the rising anger inside of me, I cracked the door open and said, “Ruby?”

Nothing.

Sighing, I stepped down a few steps then peaked under the overhang to see her sleeping on my couch.

My heart started beating again as a smile creased my lips. She was adorable. Buried under my Nana's quilt, her hands folded under her cheek. She looked like an angel. Soft and safe. So different than the normal Ruby Miller look.

As I turned to sneak back upstairs, her eyes fluttered for a moment then opened to catch me staring at her.

My cheeks grew warm with embarrassment, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking at her. Something about her was so different. So arresting. A conflict of appearances, an angelic face pierced repeatedly. Soft, warm eyes, topped with bright purple hair. None of it should have worked, but somehow, she pulled it off. Making herself interesting, mysterious, and … different.

Finally, gathering what common sense I had left, I said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. But breakfast is going to be ready in a few minutes.”

She didn’t move, just continued to stare at me.

“If you want any,” I said over my shoulder as I scurried up the stairs.

I’d barely gotten the bacon going when Ruby stepped into the kitchen, the quilt wrapped around her like a queen’s cape.

“Want some coffee?” I asked, holding up the pot.

She shot me a look of pure disdain. As if I had asked her if she wanted to continue to breathe.

I filled a mug and placed it in front of her.

“I didn’t know what you liked, So I thought bacon, French toast. We’ve also got a dozen different cereals if you’d prefer. But I’ve sort of already started the bacon.

She just looked at me over the top of her cup as she took another sip. Probably trying to figure out why I was babbling like a river at full flood.

“You cook?” she asked with as tone of disbelief.

I laughed, “My mom always insisted I know how. Plus Jimmy’s been letting me man the grill occasionally. So, yeah, I promise not to poison you.”

Ruby simply nodded and focused on her cup of coffee.

“So, did you sleep well?” I asked, again unable to shut up.

She slowly shook her head as she answered, “Are you always this happy in the morning. You do know that most people are miserable at this hour of the day.”

I smiled as I turned over the bacon. Good, we were back to our normal argumentative selves.

“Some of us have been up for a while,” I said. “I’ve got to go clear the driveway of snow …”

“It snowed?” she asked with surprise as she stood up to glance out of the kitchen window.

“Just a couple of inches.”

She shuddered and sat back down, taking another deep drink from her coffee cup.

A soft meow stopped me from continuing our discussion. Our cat jumped up onto the seat next to hers.

“Hello,” she said to the cat with a smile as she began stroking the cat’s head. “What’s your name?”

“That’s Mrs. Beasley,” I said, “Don’t ask me why. It’s my mom’s cat.”

The evil feline glanced at me like I was yesterday’s hair ball, then closed her eyes as she sank into Ruby’s caress. A sudden thought of what it would be like to have Ruby caressing me, flashed through my brain, setting off a dozen different emotions all at once.

“Hello Mrs. Beasley,” Ruby purred to the damn cat, “Aren’t you a sweet thing.”

I snorted as I shook my head while I flipped the toast. We, the cat and I, had an unspoken agreement to tolerate each other’s presence in the house because we both loved my mom. But I swear there were times, the cat was seriously thinking of kicking me out.

As I placed the plate of food in front of Ruby, I swore I heard the cat purring. An ability I had always assumed had been bred out of her line generations ago.

Ruby glanced up at me and smiled. For just a brief second I saw the true Ruby, and it was earth moving. Then, just as quickly, it was gone as her smile dropped and her eyes became guarded.

“Thanks,” she grunted.

I laughed and shook my head, “Is it just me you hate, or all men,” I asked as I dished up my own plate.

“Men,” she answered around a mouth of food. “But don’t take it personally. They have at least one redeeming quality.”

“What’s that?” I asked, knowing I was probably falling into a trap of pure hate.

“They aren’t women,” she said as she took another bite. “Girls are worse.”

Okay, this was interesting. “Why are men better than women? I asked.

She stopped eating for a second and looked at me very seriously.

“Because when men lie to you, at least they are honest about it.”

I could feel my brow narrow in a deep frown. That made absolutely no sense.

Seeing the doubt registered on my face, Ruby continued, “When a guy lies to you, which is most of the time by the way. You know why. He’s lying because he wants to get into your pants. You know it, he knows it, and he knows that you know it. But when a girl lies to you, it could be for any of a dozen different reasons. And because you don’t know why she’s lying, it’s harder to figure out the truth.”

I leaned back into my chair and slowly shook my head. In a weird kind of way, it almost made sense.

“Not every guy is trying to get into your pants Ruby,” I said with all seriousness.

She simply cocked a questioning eyebrow and looked at me like I was the village idiot.

“Well, most aren’t,” I tried.

The eyebrow rose even higher.

I laughed, “Okay, probably most are, but not all of them.”

She relented and returned to her food. “The ones that lie are,” she said.

“Hey, I’ve never lied to you,” I said as if that was a significant achievement.

She looked at me strangely for a second and slowly shook her head. “Not yet,” she said as she took another bite.