Blackbird: The Complete Series, page 11
I go to turn the ignition off but hesitate. “Want me to leave the air conditioning on?”
“You had it on?”
Her smile eases whatever’s heavy in the air between us, and I’m grateful for it.
“Don’t even say it…I know in this junker it probably feels more like someone’s blowing warm air in your face than air conditioning.”
“I love this truck, it’s a classic.”
“I actually like being the only guy in the county who has to roll his windows down manually.”
“Like I said, classic.” She’s twisting a lock of hair around her finger, distracting me when she says, “We don’t need AC tonight, and anyway, running it while you’re idling drains the battery and wastes gas. No need for that.”
“Is that so?” I need to get a little closer, suddenly grateful this rust bucket has old school, single bench style seating. “Guess you know a lot about cars?”
“I know nothing!” She squeals when I pull her close to me. “I can’t change a flat tire.” A flush is crawling across her collarbone and up her neck. “Or change the oil.” She licks her lips and lowers her voice to a whisper. “I don’t even know where the antifreeze fluid goes.”
Leaning in, I whisper back, “Then I’m going to teach you everything.”
I’m committed to moving at a slow pace, but she takes matters into her own hands. I suspect she wants to prove to me that she is, in fact, doing fine. She’s in my lap, legs astride mine, and it’s all I can do to keep my hands from deviating from the path I’ve made, slowly running them up and down along her sides from hips to ribs. “You’re beautiful,” I tell her, overcome with how much I want her, want to be anywhere she is.
“You don’t have to say that,” she whispers.
I pull back an inch, studying her. “I know I don’t. I said it because it’s what I feel when I look at you.” Raising her chin, I kiss her once and then tell her again, “Charlotte, you’re beautiful.” Her uncertain smile cracks me wide open, physically hurts me. I pull back some more. “Hey, do you think I’m attractive?”
“What?” She’s stalling.
“Do you think I’m handsome, good looking, easy on the eyes, guapo?”
“Ugh!” She leans back, both hands braced on my shoulders. “You know you are!” Shaking her head and frowning, she adds, “You know every girl in the school would kill to be with you.”
“I seriously doubt that, but I don’t care about them…I want to know how you see me.”
Her eyes soften. “I think you’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“I’m gonna have to agree with you.” I trap her wrists in my hands as she goes to beat on my chest, her effort weak as her body shakes with laughter.
“Are you seriously that conceited?”
“No, I’m just proving a point.” I draw her hands up to my mouth, inhaling her scent before I place a kiss on the inside of each wrist. “You told me you like what you see and I believe you. I need you to believe me when I tell you what I feel and what I see when I look at you.”
She nods. “I’ll try.”
“Do you really not see what I see? Hell, every guy I know thinks you’re hot. It’s not like it’s even something that’s up for debate.”
“Stop,” she pleads, cringing.
“No,” I whisper, leaning my forehead against hers. “I can’t look away. Do you understand?”
She moves to slide in closer, but I shift her hips back before taking her face in my hands and bringing her lips back to meet mine. This, where we are right now, this will be enough. I’m leaving in less than three months, and I’m not taking this so far that we’ll both be worse off for it after.
We head back towards home a few minutes later, her hand in mine as I drive. And it’s good, it’s easy with her. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to talk or to listen the way I do when I’m with Charlotte. She wants to know everything: my favorite bands, whether or not I like working at the hardware store, what my mother’s maiden name is. She’s full of questions, and for the first time in my life, I want to answer.
“Where exactly do you live.”
“Not far from Tyler. We’re on Dutch Lane.”
“And we refers to?”
“It’s just me and my mom at home.”
“Oh.” Her brow furrows. “And when you leave?”
“She has a boyfriend, Henry. He’s a nice guy. And she’d never leave this place anyway…Not while Timmy’s still here.”
“How long is his sentence?”
“He has three years left…No chance of early parole.” When she drops her gaze, I look over and lift her chin. “That’s not on you, ok?”
“Can’t help it, I feel guilt by association. But I want you to be able to talk to me about Timmy, about your family, about all of it.”
“I hate that he’s in there. The place is an absolute shithole and the system sucks. Sometimes I just need to put it out of my mind. Other times I use it to push me, to reach for things that I hope one day can help him, help my family.”
“You want to be a lawyer.” It’s not stated as a question.
I turn the ignition off when I pull into the spot next to hers. Charlotte’s car is the only one left in the library’s lot. “I’m majoring in economics because I think it will give me the broadest education and best preparation for the LSATs. My plan is to take summer classes and winter break credits also. I plan to finish my undergrad in three years, then on to law school.”
“You’ve got it all figured out.”
“I guess Freud would say I crave security and stability?”
She pinches her thumb and forefinger close. “Maybe just a little.”
“Do you know what you want to do?”
“Not yet.”
“You’re a talented dancer. Ever thought about making a career out of it?”
She tilts her head in the most adorable way. “I enjoy dancing but I don’t see a future in it.”
“I do.”
“My mother was a theater major. I’m not about to hang my hopes on a dream.” I understand that I have no place sticking my two cents in when she adds, “I need a degree that will allow me stand on my own two feet.”
“I get that, I do.”
We’re quiet for a bit, but it’s a comfortable silence.
“Chocolate chip or blueberry tomorrow?”
I lift her hand up and kiss the back of it, grateful for her caring nature. “I’m not working tomorrow. I’m visiting Tim with my mother.”
“Oh,” she says, looking down at the hand I just kissed.
“I’ve been picking up some shifts after school lately too, trying to save more. Normally I’d never give up a weekend shift, but my mother wanted to squeeze in an extra visit this month and I don’t like her going there alone.”
“You’re a good son.”
Her praise makes me uncomfortable, because a good son wouldn’t be deserting his mother, leaving her here to deal with everything alone. Come August, I’ll be doing just that.
She nudges my knee with hers. “So I’ll see you at school on Monday?”
“Meet me by my locker before first period?” She looks surprised. Does she think I’m planning on hiding this, hiding her? “Hey,” I pull her in closer, “I can’t just drop by your house, or even walk down the street in your neighborhood holding your hand. When I can be with you, I’m going to be.”
She nods, looking at me with those big brown eyes. “I’ll be there.”
She’s the one who leans in first and kisses me. I’m the one who breaks the kiss a minute later, holding her to me, breathing in as I nestle into her hair. “Charlotte.” I say it just because I love the sound of her name.
We stay like that for a minute, just holding on, before I go around to her side of the truck and help her out. “I’ll follow you home.”
“Don’t be silly.” She’s grinning and so am I. We probably look like two lovesick fools to anyone passing by, but I couldn’t care less. “I’ll see you Monday,” she says, getting into her car.
I already know I won’t be able to wait that long.
Chapter Eleven
Charlotte
I sit in my driveway, reading through several texts from Daisy. Do I want to go to the mall later? It’s later already. Much later. And BTW, Sarah’s coming too. Thank the Lord for Sarah. We’re getting burgers at The Ground, meet us. Nope, still full from the burger and cheese fries I had before. Sienna and Skylar are here. All the seniors are here. No, not all the seniors. Simon isn’t there. Simon’s been with me. And then I get to the best text, the one from Simon that just came in:
I should be back by four. Can I see you tomorrow?
I type back yes without hesitation.
Maybe I should be playing this whole thing with Simon smarter, but the truth is that I don’t know how to play. I don’t know the best angle, don’t know how to play hard to get, don’t know how to make him fall at my feet. I know nothing except that I want to spend every minute with him. And when I’m not with him I’m thinking about him.
I should be wary. We’ve gone from avoiding and dancing around one another for months, to diving right in head first. I don’t know much about relationships—correction, I know nothing—but I’m afraid that moving at this breakneck pace has crash and burn written all over it.
But I can’t stop what’s already started. I don’t want to stop it, or slow it down for that matter.
And I don’t want to think about how this will end.
I smile my way through the Sunday morning shift. And I don’t even care that the living room is filled to capacity when I get home, Wes among the crowd. I bring my change of clothes into the bathroom, lock the door and ignore the people who are knocking, too lazy to use the bathroom on the other side of the house. I take my time in the shower, blow my hair smooth and straight, dress in my favorite jeans and a snug tee, and put on some lip gloss.
I’m at the end of your street. Which house is yours?
I figured I’d be meeting him someplace neutral again, hiding. But no, Simon came here, right into enemy territory. I drag in a breath, scared for the both of us, but at the same time I’m on cloud nine. He’s fearless and I love it.
I’ll be right there.
I’m excited and breathless and happy when I see him smiling at me from inside of his truck. “Were you about to knock on my front door?”
“I was taking my lead from you.”
“Today? Maybe not such a good idea.”
“The whole gang’s there?”
“Afraid so.”
“Want to hang out at my house?”
“Um, sure.”
“My mother’s making lasagna.”
“You think she’ll be good with—”
“I told her about you,” he says, taking my hand as soon as I click my seatbelt into place.
“You did?” I can’t mask my surprise. If he told his mom about me, then he likes me. Like, for real likes me.
“Yeah, you goof.”
“How did it go today?”
He shifts his attention back to the road. “You don’t want to know.”
“You don’t have to leave me in the dark. I really do want to know.”
I was feeling brave when I said the words, but the ensuing silence and the hard set of his jaw seems to suck the air from small space we’re sharing. He scares me when his mood shifts. I can’t think of anything to say, and I hate the chill in the air as much as I hate my own insecurity. I feel small next to him.
A minute passes before he slows at the intersection and turns to me. “I’m sorry. It’s just that there’s no way to put a positive spin on it. He’s got his arm in a sling one time, eye swollen shut the next. That place is hell on earth.”
“Can you—”
“There’s nothing I can do.”
Simon
I’m poisonous. Or it’s this thing, the scarlet A, the shitty circumstances that come along with being born a Wade in this town. The past and the actions of others are capable of ruining everything good.
Me and Charlotte? We haven’t even started and I feel it’s got the power to end us.
I don’t want it to. I want this girl sitting next to me to smile and be carefree. I want to be the one who makes her feel that way. I want to be unburdened and relaxed, like everyone else my age. But today was a shitty day.
Timmy’s using again. Maybe it started with painkillers prescribed by the prison infirmary, but prescribed or contraband doesn’t matter—he’s using. He was shifting in his seat and acting distant today, looking over his shoulder every few seconds, on alert, paranoid. His fragmented attempts at conversation were dominated by pie in the sky bullshit. Today it was some absurd “business plan” he came up with to open a bike shop. I have to hold back from smacking my own forehead when he asks my mother—dead serious—if she wants to be an investor.
I hate that fucking place. I hate every guard, I hate the warden I’ve never laid eyes on, I hate the governor, the president—I just exist in a state of hatred.
I don’t know how to compartmentalize this part of my life. I want to keep it from her, and I can’t help but feel angry when she pries. But I know the anger is because I feel so damn weak, so powerless to do anything about it. There is nothing I can do to help Timmy right now, and that makes me feel pathetic.
“There’s nothing I can do.”
She doesn’t say anything, just reaches over and eases one hand off the steering wheel, lowering it down onto the seat and covering my hand with her own.
“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to snap like that.”
Her thumb drags back and forth over the top of my hand, soothing me. “It’s all right, Simon. I understand.”
And I know she does.
The air is still heavy between us when we pull up outside my place. Seeing my home through her eyes doesn’t do anything to get me out of my funk. Most people in our development keep their places tidy, but a few have given up. Being house proud in a trailer park is sort of ridiculous, I get it, but in that moment I want to hide the cinderblocks and discarded tires that litter the area in front of a neighboring unit. Then I take in the welcome mat, the flowery curtains and the wreath on our front door. The homey touches used to please me, but right now it looks like lipstick on a pig.
She pulls me out of it. “I’m excited to meet your mom.”
I smile at her because I know Charlotte is more nervous than excited, and she’s doing a shit job of hiding it. “My mom baked an apple pie in your honor.”
“Really?”
“Yup. This is monumental…I’ve never brought a girl home for dinner.”
She side-eyes me, grinning. “So I’m the first?”
“The first.” I’m dead serious but she laughs as she hops down out of the truck.
I guide her up the steps but then pull her back against me once we reach the landing. Before I open the front door, I rest my chin on her head and exhale. “Thank you for that…You make me feel better when all the bad shit starts weighing me down. I just don’t want you to have to bear that for me.” I turn her to face me. “I’ll do better.”
She shakes her head and swallows. “You saved my life, Simon, so please don’t ever apologize or think your troubles are some kind of burden.”
“I didn’t save your life.”
“You did” She leans over and kisses me softly. “That day and every day since.”
Chapter Twelve
Charlotte
Daisy is drifting away, and I’m a terrible person because I’ve barely given our disintegrating friendship a passing thought. I’ve officially become that girl—the girl who drops her friends once a boy comes into the picture.
Sarah and Daisy practically had to scrape their jaws off the pavement that first Monday morning when Simon snuck up behind me and kissed my cheek in front of everyone. Everyone. My knees nearly gave out, but I somehow managed to keep it together, sucking in a breath as a smile stretched clear across my face.
She wanted to know. And while Sarah breathlessly asked question after question, Daisy said nothing, quietly studying me. When we were alone during our last period class, she stopped me when I started talking about a paper due the following week. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” She looked more hurt than curious.
“He, um, kissed me at the party Friday night, and well, I’ve gotten to know him since I’ve been working at the diner and everything.”
“You looked…together.” Shaking her head, she said, “Like, it’s three days later and you’re a couple?” I didn’t answer. Didn’t like the line of questioning. “I mean, I always knew you had a thing for him, but,” Daisy met my eyes and smiled, “he looked like he was positively on cloud nine when he kissed your cheek this morning.”
I let out a breath, thankful that she wasn’t looking to challenge me or question the very idea of Simon being into me. I was doing enough of that myself. What does he see in me? Does he really think I’m beautiful? Is any of this even real? I was self-doubt central, so I certainly didn’t need anyone else chiming in with more skepticism
“What is it like?”
“What is what like?”
“What is it like when Simon kisses you?”
I told her inconsequential things, let her in a little but not much. And Daisy was easily entertained because she knew nothing of boys. I used some generic word like amazing, selling it by whispering the word as I moved in close so that no one else could hear. But I didn’t tell her what it really feels like. That was mine, something I wanted to lock in a special box and hold close to my heart. And how can you explain the feeling anyway? It sounds crazy and dreamlike because it feels that way too. A feeling in your chest, a tingling sensation that extends out to the farthest point of every limb and beyond. Light, like your body is hovering above ground. Weightless, carefree and…happy. How can you explain it to someone who’s never been there herself? You just can’t. After that first kiss I was older than Daisy, years older. And we could never go back.
