Payback, page 16
Caleb sighs. “Because if you talk to Dr. O, Belk, or anyone else, Margot’s going to send an anonymous note to Dr. O announcing that she’s alive, and that you and she are scheming against him.”
Geri sinks in her seat, jaw clenched.
“I want to see her.”
“After this trip.” Caleb turns back to me. “That was the deal, right?”
My smile is back and at full wattage. “It sure was.”
“I hate both of you,” says Geri.
It really is a terrible loss.
We’re distracted by the ding of a bell, and the flight attendant gives a series of announcements about wearing your seat belt, and where the lavatories are, and how oxygen masks will be dropping from the ceiling if we “lose altitude.”
“Does that mean crash?” I say, a little too loudly.
Caleb pats my leg. “Statistically you’re more likely to be eaten by an alligator.”
“Also something I’d like to avoid.” I think I might be shouting. I don’t mean to, but the engine is really loud.
But then the plane is pulling back from the gate, and we’re heading toward the runway, and I’m forced back into my seat as we pick up speed.
This is happening. I’m flying out of Sikawa City for the first time in my life.
“Ow.” Caleb chuckles.
I glance over, and his fingertips have turned white from the force of my grip. He’s smiling, though, and I’m smiling, and then I feel it, the sudden shift as the front of the plane rises and lifts off the ground.
I must make some kind of riding-a-roller-coaster sound, because the next sound I register is his laughter. I can’t look over, though; the runway is shrinking into a tiny strip of gray, far behind us. The cars on the highway look like ants on a mission, and the houses make swirling neighborhood patterns like designs etched in the sand.
Up we go. Up and up and up, until I’m sure we’re going to poke a hole straight into the sky. As the plane evens off, the houses become pinpricks. Baseball fields and parks become thumbprints, and the river turns into a silver ribbon, shimmering in the sun.
It’s incredible.
From here, the city is beautiful. The ugliness is untouchable, too far away to see. All of our problems have become microscopic, and what’s left of them inside me slides out of knotted muscles into the scattered clouds below.
I turn to Caleb, desperate to see if he feels it too, but he’s not looking out the window. He’s staring at me, a quiet, secret kind of smile playing on his lips.
“Hi.” I’m not sure if I say the word out loud, or if it’s only a breath.
“Hi,” he whispers back.
I lean closer, releasing his hand to crumple his sweatshirt in my grasp. The small blast of air from the nozzle above moves his hair the slightest bit, and the greedy urge takes over to touch that too. Then, even that isn’t enough. His hair, the frames of his glasses. My fingertip trails a line down his nose and around his jaw and over his slightly parted lips.
A soft, golden light warms me, fills me. Nothing can hurt us up here. We belong to the sky. We don’t even exist to those below.
I lean closer, and my nose brushes his. Our lips touch, and explore, and draw open. It’s easy kissing him. It’s the rightest thing in the world. I close my eyes, and imagine us somewhere else, alone, and when I open them he’s staring back in understanding.
Geri makes a little huff and turns away, focusing entirely on the book in her hand. She reminds me where we are, and that the things I want have to wait.
So I rest my head on Caleb’s shoulder, finding the perfect place in the crook of his neck. He presses kisses against my hair and forehead, and then we watch our hands weave and unweave and weave again, all across the sky.
* * *
OUR PLANE LANDS at the Baltimore airport two hours later. It’s sunny outside, and a white blanket of fresh snow covers the rooftops of the buildings we pass in our taxi. The roads are wet and shiny, and not even the traffic on our way into the city can stifle my thrill.
It’s like Sikawa, but not. The skyscrapers still stab through the clouds, smashed so closely together it’s like they’re weeds, competing for the sun. People rush by, huddled in their big coats. Car horns and distant sirens fill the air.
“I sent Belk a message that we’re here and heading to the hotel,” Geri says sourly. “Just us girls, obviously.”
“Thanks,” I tell her, impervious to her bad mood.
Caleb let me sit by the window, but he leans close, peering out over my shoulder. I am equally as aware of the strange new sights flashing around us as I am of his hand on my thigh.
“Look,” he says, pointing through the jungle of brick and metal to a white stone fortress bracketed by columns. “That’s the Peabody Library. It’s supposed to be amazing inside. Five balconies. A huge glass skylight. They call it the Cathedral of Books.”
“Which is useful to anyone … because…” Geri examines her nails on the far side of the seat.
I grin at Caleb. “I love that you know that.”
My cheeks heat. I didn’t mean to say love. Did he catch it?
Maybe it’s okay that he did.
“It’s from the 1870s,” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Gross,” says Geri. “Get a room.”
Caleb leans closer, his nose brushing the shell of my ear and sending a hot jolt straight to my belly.
“There’s a building on Light Street that’s classic art deco,” he whispers, his breath moving my hair. “I read it was built in the 1920s.”
“Wow,” I manage.
“Vomit,” says Geri.
I curl my fingers around Caleb’s, watching the way his gaze dips down to where we touch. We’re far away from home, and no one cares that we’re holding hands—no one but Geri, and she can’t do anything about it—and suddenly I want to see that art deco building. I want to kiss him inside it, in front of all the people walking by. I want to walk down the street with my hand in his, and go out to dinner, and see a movie, and be us.
The us we are supposed to be. The us that isn’t worried about Dr. O.
We reach the hotel, a huge tower of blue-green glass right on the winter-gray water of the Inner Harbor. The lobby is like something out of a dream, even after living in Vale Hall’s mansion. Sandy marble floors, so glossy I can see my own reflection. Chandeliers of glass baubles and twisting silver. An enormous vase of white flowers cascades over the edges of a table in front of reception.
“Whoa,” I say.
Caleb smirks. “A definite step up from the bowling alley.”
“I’m sure they’ll have a nice couch for you to sleep on,” Geri mutters, then crosses to reception.
Heat sears up my neck. Even if Caleb sleeps on a pullout sofa, we’ll be spending the night in the same room. The last time—the only time—that’s ever happened was after the Wolves got ahold of him and he was beaten and zonked out on Pete’s illegal pain pills.
I suddenly hope that couch is big, and that Geri’s a very heavy sleeper.
I hang back with Caleb, unsure what to say to the man behind the counter. It’s better for Caleb not to make himself too noticeable anyway, but soon Geri’s heading back, looking even crabbier than before.
“The room’s not ready,” she says. “And we need to get to campus for the visit soon. I guess we’re just going to have to get ready in the spa.”
“Sounds awful,” I say, mimicking her superior tone. “Don’t they have anything nicer?”
Caleb snorts.
Geri marches off without another word, and after cringing at Caleb, I jog after her.
The spa turns out to be bigger than a house, with cedar lockers, steam showers, and the heady scent of lavender. I didn’t really expect to change before going to campus, but since Charlotte managed to pack approximately forty-seven outfits, I decide it can’t hurt anything.
I pull on a fresh pair of jeans, these a little more formfitting than the ones I was wearing this morning, and a soft red sweater that hugs my hips. This isn’t just a visit to a movie set, it’s a business meeting. I need to appear mature, thoughtful enough to gain Damien’s trust. My hair is still holding the same gentle waves from the morning, so I let it be, and trace black eyeliner and mascara around my eyes. As I paint the cherry gloss over my lips, I wonder if Caleb will notice the subtle change.
I still can’t believe he’s here.
I manage to finish before Geri, who’s decided to flatiron her hair for the second time today and put on knee-high black boots with her tights and knit dress. With a belt fastened around the small pinch of her waist she looks like a vengeful pixie. Maybe it’s this place—this whole city—but before I can think it through, I tell her she looks really nice.
“I know,” she says, clearly not needing my input.
We repack and leave the spa, finding Caleb near the doors of the lobby. He’s changed too, into a light blue button-down shirt that contrasts with the black bomber coat Henry got him earlier this fall. His dark jeans skim the lean muscles of his legs, meeting his shoes, the same as mine, and before I catch myself, I’m walking faster, the pull of attraction like a magnet seeking its match.
His eyes grow wide as we approach, but he’s not looking at Geri. It’s like the lights have gone dark, and there’s a spotlight shining on me alone.
“That’s a…” He swallows. “Red sweater. Your sweater is very red.”
So are the corners of his jaw.
“I definitely think you’re college ready,” I tell him. He covers his face with his hands and groans.
We leave our bags with the concierge and take another taxi to a place called College Park. Caleb’s hand stays in mine the entire ride, his thumb making slow, tantalizing circles over my knuckles. We drive under an archway bearing the words University of Maryland, and pass by old, redbrick buildings, and crisscrossing concrete paths. Students not much older than we are carry backpacks or satchels, some listening to music, some laughing with their friends. We’re dropped off in front of the library. It’s not quite as glorious as the Peabody downtown, but it’s still monstrous, and for a glancing moment, I can see myself going to school here.
I have to survive high school first.
As the taxi pulls away, we walk toward a group of students and parents gathered on the stone steps beneath the spindly, gray branches of a naked tree. A youngish-looking guy in a Santa hat is holding up a sign that says “Campus Tour” while he talks to a girl and her mom, and as we head toward them, a new kind of wanting burns inside me.
I’ve never been on a college campus before. Not even Sikawa’s local community college. This is so different from anything I could have expected, even from movies. It’s like its own city inside a city. A completely separate world.
And as I’m walking toward the tour guide, my heart a buoy bouncing in my chest, I hear the two words that send me crashing down to earth.
“Bloody Brynn!”
CHAPTER 16
I spin toward the voice, an old, remembered anxiety clawing to the surface of my skin, but it dissipates in seconds as the boy I’ve known my entire life leaps off a stair to our left and strides toward us.
“Marcus?”
This guy looks like he could be Marcus’s twin brother. His face is the same—his buzzed fade and bright blue eyes I would recognize across the universe. But his smile is wider, and his jeans actually fit, and when he lifts his arms to give me a hug I can see the hint of an actual belt sticking out beneath the bottom of his gray wool coat.
“You weren’t lying!” I’m crushed in his embrace before Caleb can grab my hand to pull me back.
“When I got your message, I thought this might be a trick,” he says. “No way Bloody Brynn’s coming to see me. But here you are! And damn, you look good, girl.”
He steps back to size me up, chin resting on the check mark made by his thumb and index finger, and I can’t help it. I laugh.
“I didn’t think you got the message,” I say, remembering the text I sent before I fell asleep last night. My eyes dart to Caleb, who looks at Marcus like he might start throwing punches.
It occurs to me that the last time these two saw each other Marcus had just outed me to Grayson—my mark—and Caleb had sped across town to save me.
It wasn’t a particularly friendly meeting.
“Um, Caleb, you remember Marcus,” I say, motioning awkwardly between them.
“This is the guy.” Marcus points at him, amused, and part of me withers and dies.
“I hope so,” says Caleb stiffly. He holds out a tentative hand, which Marcus grabs, only for the sake of pulling him into a hug.
The difference in Marcus hits me again. He’s happy. There aren’t bruises beneath his eyes from sleepless nights, or taut lines around his mouth from stress. He isn’t trying to act hard or assert his place.
He’s just Marcus.
I smile so wide my jaw feels like it might break.
“And who is this?” Marcus practically pushes Caleb aside when he notices Geri, arms crossed, hip cocked, and lips pulled in a tight frown.
“This is Geri,” I say. “We go to school together.”
“Geri.” Marcus tries on the name, a wicked grin tilting his lips. “I didn’t know there were any angels named Geri.”
“Are you kidding me?” I’m not sure who she’s more annoyed with—Marcus, Caleb, or me. She spins toward the tour guide and stomps away.
“Watch yourself,” I say. “She’s got claws.”
He winks at me. “All my favorite people do.”
I snort, but I can’t help feeling bad. Geri’s a pain on her best days, a viable danger on her worst, but I’ve been a third wheel before, and it’s not fun.
“Welcome, visiting students!” calls our Santa tour guide, and when he runs through our names to see if everyone’s arrived, I raise my hand. The group takes off, and with a tilt of my head, Marcus, Caleb, and I follow. I can see Geri just ahead, scribbling something in a journal she’s taken out of her purse.
Either she’s writing me a hate note, or she’s really taking this seriously.
“So you’re going to college, huh?” Marcus slings an arm over my shoulder, the way he used to do when we were home, before everything fell apart.
My gaze flicks to Caleb, who is scowling on my other side, hands in his pockets.
“Probably,” I say, and realizing I owe Caleb an explanation, I say, “I sent Marcus a message before we left. I didn’t think he got it.”
“My aunt takes our phones after dinner,” he says. “Lucky she didn’t see all the nasty things you wrote.”
My head cranes in Marcus’s direction, but he only squeezes me tighter and blows out a tense breath.
“Marcus, I miss you. Marcus, I want you back. I’m coming to Baltimore to get that—”
I shove him hard enough he nearly falls, but rights himself in a burst of laughter.
“I didn’t say any of those things,” I tell Caleb, whose scowl is deepening with each passing second.
“Yet.” Marcus is still laughing. “But I’m keeping the hope alive.”
“I don’t blame you.” Caleb shakes off his tension with a shrug. “Some people are worth waiting for.”
We both glance at him.
“Not that I advise you doing that,” Caleb tells Marcus. “I’d rather you move on, if it’s all the same.”
Marcus smirks, and then cracks up. He juts a thumb in Caleb’s direction. “He’s all right.”
“Yeah,” I say, blushing.
Caleb tilts his head toward the group, now stopped in front of a massive brick building. “I’m going to see how Geri’s doing.”
“Put in a good word for me!” Marcus calls as Caleb walks away, then he hugs me again. After a moment, I hug him back, giving in to the familiar steel of his arms and the new spicy cologne he’s wearing.
“It’s good to see you,” he says. “It’s like being home, without the worst of it.”
He’s right about that.
The group moves on, and I fall into step beside him, smiling again at how good he looks.
“Your aunt takes your phone after dinner, huh?” I ask.
He grins. “She says conversations after dark lead to bad decisions.”
“Oh, wow.” I laugh. “You like living there?”
“It’s all right.” He says this like I would say the Four Seasons is all right, and that makes me even happier. “I’m retaking junior classes. Got a B-plus on my French test last week.”
“You’re taking French?” I don’t even know who I’m talking to.
“Oui,” he says. “Je m’appelle Marcus. Où se trouvent les toilettes?”
My mouth drops open.
“That’s pretty much all I know.”
As the group moves on he tells me about his aunt, who’s strict but nice, and his cousins, who are trying to talk him into going out for track in the spring. He has a curfew—which is negotiable for special occasions as long as he checks in. His mom is doing well, and is planning to move out to Baltimore by February so they can live together.
“Guess we both got out after all,” I say, but the words are hollow. I may have moved to the north side, but I’m still playing chess with a monster.
“I don’t know,” he says thoughtfully. “Baltimore’s got its own Devon Parks.”
I narrow my gaze his way. He’s pulled his life together, he doesn’t need to slide back into old habits.
“Relax,” he says. “I’m just saying, Devon Park’s a place. You give it hate, you give it power. I didn’t realize that until I left.”
“And this place?”
“Well,” he says. “I’m trying to give this place something else.”
“That’s deep.” I don’t know if I’m more awed or shocked at his sudden depth and transparency, but I like it, all the same.
“I go to school now, remember?”
“Oui.”
He smirks, and this time when his arm goes over my shoulders, I wrap mine around his waist.
“So this guy—Caleb. He decent? Or am I going to have to teach him some manners?”
