A Matter of Heart (24 page)

“Y
ou can't pretend last night never happened,” Alec says.

Well, no sense breaking into this slowly
. “I'm not,” I say. “But that doesn't mean it should have happened.”

He steps close enough to trace a finger across a fresh scratch on my wrist. A tremor races through me. My throat is so dry, I can taste the dirt as if we're back on the trail. “I had too much beer. I wasn't thinking.”

“And what are you thinking now?”

I look into his eyes. I'm thinking how much I love the way he looks at me. How much I want to kiss him again, now, without all the confusion and pain of last night. I'm thinking that if my days are numbered, then I want to spend them with him. I want to feel the things he feels, the things he can make me feel.

But this is a complication I don't need and I can't handle.

He's still waiting for an answer, so I take a breath and I tell him the truth. “I'm thinking that I don't know what to do about you.”

He raises his eyebrows in question. “Why can't we just see what happens?”

“It's…complicated,” I say. Also the truth. “There's Connor…technically we haven't even broken up.”

Now the eyebrows slant down as if he's angry. “Really?” Before I know what he's doing, his hand is around my neck. He leans in, brushes his lips softly against mine.

My knees wobble. I let out a tiny moan.

He pulls back. “You don't kiss me as if you have a boyfriend.” And then his other arm is around my waist and I shouldn't…I shouldn't…but I melt into the heat of his mouth. Our lips fuse together, his kiss turning harsh as if he needs more. My fingers tighten around his neck and I understand because I want it too.

When he breaks the kiss, we're both out of breath. He rests his forehead against mine, and his voice is thick and heavy. “Holy shit, Abby. What do you do to me? We're at the gym. The kids could come out again.”

“Then maybe we should go somewhere else.”

He pulls back, shock written all over his face. I've shocked myself too. But maybe there's a way to make this work.

“What happened to complicated?” he asks.

“Yeah, about that.” I step back out of arm's reach. “We have to keep this”—I gesture to him and me—“separate from swimming.”

He pushes back his hair. “What do you mean
swimming
?”

“We both have State on Friday.”

He shakes his head and the hair falls forward again. “You're not swimming, Abby. Tell me you're not swimming.”

“Yeah, Alec, I am. Nothing crazy,” I say quickly. “I'm just going to do the fifty.”

“How? You're on beta-blockers.”

“It's only a fifty.” My impatience with him is already back. This is what I was afraid of. “I'll get a good jump and it's halfway over.”

He tilts his face to the sky and I hear something that sounds like a curse in Spanish. Then he's glaring at me, a finger pointed like he's my mother or something. “You can't compete on heart meds, Abby. And you can't risk swimming without them. You know it and I know it.”

I fist my hands, trying to keep my anger under control. I have to convince Alec that what I'm doing—what he
thinks
I'm doing—is okay. “Would you just listen?” I begin. “This is exactly what I mean about things getting complicated. I want to do this, Alec. It's not about winning or being the fastest because I know I'm not one hundred percent while I'm on the meds. But all these kids we teach, they know I'm competing at State. Miley just told me she's coming to watch. Do you want her to see that I've given up? Do you want all of them to think that?”

He looks down and I know I've got him, because I know
him
. He couldn't stand having the kids think that about him, either. I wait until he's looking at me again, and then I say, “I need to do this without you interfering or giving me worried looks or asking me how I am every five minutes. I'm not going to do anything stupid,” I add before he can ask.

He's quiet. I force myself to hold his gaze, to hide my fear. So much rests on how he reacts.

Then I see his shoulders relax and I silently melt with relief.

“Okay,” he says. “I guess if it's okay with Coach, I won't worry. It's just…seeing you last night freaked me out.”

“I was still dealing with the news. I'm handling it better today.”

“Really?” he asks.

“Really.” And there's truth to the word, enough that he nods.

“Then we're cool,” he says. “I'll just, uh, cheer you on.”

“That would be nice,” I say.

“So?” he asks. “Complication solved?”

In answer, I reach for his hand. He squeezes my fingers and I feel impossibly good.

“You want to hang out later?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I do.”

This is so completely insane. Yesterday I was getting ready to meet Connor at a party.
Yesterday
. I shudder at the thought of what I very nearly did with Connor last night. What I nearly lost. And it would have been a loss. Connor cares only about himself. I'm more than a little angry, I realize, as if the feeling has just registered. I'm angry at the way Connor treated me—the way he dismissed me.
Me
. Maybe it's seeing the way Alec looks at me—seeing how special I am in his eyes—that has reminded me of who I am. My pride prickles to life and along with it a tiny bit of satisfaction. On Friday, I'm going to show Connor just how special I am. And then we'll see whose heart is broken.

Alec is grinning. There's a bad-boy slant to his lips. It makes me want to kiss him.

“You ever experience a Fiery Blood Sunset before?”

“I'm not sure I want to,” I say.

“Come on, Lipman. Live a little dangerously.”

I laugh at the irony. I can't help it. “I'm in.”

Something fires to life in his eyes and his breath hitches. He looks like he wants to swallow me whole. I sort of like it. “Pick you up around five?”

“How about I meet you here,” I say. “Otherwise, my parents will ask a million questions.”

He works his fingers around mine, rubs his thumb over the sensitive skin of my palm. “Sounds like a plan.” Then he gives me a quick kiss on the inside of my wrist and heads for the men's locker room.

My skin tingles as I watch him go. Well, why not. No regrets, right? I rub a hand over my stomach, where things are feeling a little fluttery. It's not a bad fluttery, though—it's more like the feeling I get just before I climb up on the blocks before a big race. Nervous, but also controlled, my mind full of what's coming. As I think about it, that's where I am in the grand plan. Gathering myself, nearly ready to climb the blocks.

It's all coming together. I'll need to talk to Jen, tell her not to repeat what I told her last night about making up my new swim times. I'll tell her Dad wants me to swim the 50-meter free and so I'm going to. On beta-blockers, of course. I don't want to lie to Jen, but I have to. And she'll say she understands, even if she doesn't. That's what you do when your best friend has a fatal heart condition.

I can't swim at the gym or the school—can't take the chance that Coach or Alec will see me. The community pool ought to
be perfect. J.D. won't even be there in the late afternoons. I run through it all in my mind. There's just one more thing I've got to do today and one thing to do tomorrow. Then I wait for the gun to go off.

When it does, I'll be ready. Whatever happens.

I
walk through Walgreens the way I have a hundred times before. But today I'm not here for more sunscreen or a tube of mascara. I pass by people and imagine how they'd watch me if they knew. How they'd tell their families, “I saw her that day…. She looked so calm.”

I hit the section with medicines and turn down the first aisle. I had no idea there were so many types. Eyedrops, arthritis creams, sinus medicines, antifungals. Something for everything. Except hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. I haven't found that aisle yet.

I round another corner and stop. There they are. Stacked four rows deep under the sign
HEADACHE RELIEF
. I skip over the bottles of Advil and Tylenol. Ignore the stack of orange aspirin. Bending down, I pull out a bottle of generic baby aspirin.
I shake the bottle and study the pills through the see-through label.

Tiny, white, round.

Just like my beta-blockers.

My damaged heart pulses in my throat as I carry the bottle to the checkout counter.

A
lec is leaning on his blue beater when I pull in beside him at the gym parking lot. He's wearing a black tee, faded jeans, and scuffed sneakers, and he's got the angle of his lean perfected like he's a model in a car ad. All he needs is a pair of sunglasses to make the picture complete, but I'm kind of glad he's not wearing any. I like his eyes. I like how he watches me as I get out of the van, lock the door, and drop the keys in my purse. I'm wearing a plain Henley over my jeans, but it's red and I know it looks good against my tan. I blew out my hair and took time with my eye makeup, and I can still taste the berry gloss on my bottom lip. I feel beautiful tonight, and I'm not sure if it's me or just the way he's looking at me.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Always.” I open the door of his Honda, trying not to compare
it to Connor's BMW. I slide into the seat beside him. The fabric is wearing thin and the dash has some cracks from age and sun, but the car is spotless. Dad once told me a guy's car is his first girlfriend and I should pay attention to how he takes care of it. If I go by this, I'm in good hands. A warm shiver runs through me at the thought of being in Alec's hands. Life has been stressful the last few days. Now I just want to feel something good.

“Where are we going to watch?”

He cocks an eyebrow at me as he pulls on his seat belt.

“The sunset?” I say, reminding him. “Isn't that the plan?”

He gets this sloppy grin on his face. “
Fiery Blood
Sunset.”

He shifts the car into gear and I buckle up. I'm guessing we'll head back to the trail where we were the other night. I sneak a glance at the backseat, expecting to see a blanket or a cooler, but it's empty. In the trunk, maybe?

But Alec doesn't take the turn toward the mountains. Instead, he drives us through the town of Guadalupe, where Jen and I come for the best carne asada tacos around. Alec pulls in at the farmers' market. “Stocking up on supplies?” I ask.

He doesn't answer, only leans across my body, brushing my stomach with his arm, and pops open my door.
Oh my
. Every nerve in my body is suddenly humming.

“Come on,” he says. “I promised you a sunset.”

Inside, I follow him through aisles of canned goods and more aisles of crated fruits and vegetables until we reach the back. There's a small kitchen there with a tall white counter and a glass refrigerated case filled with fruits I can't even name and two glass blenders.

An old man with white hair and a striped shirt buttoned up to his neck is sitting on a stool, reading a paper. He stands when he sees us. “
Hola
, Alec,” he says. He smiles, his face wrinkling like a fan.

“Hola,”
Alec returns. “I've brought a friend.”

“I see,” he says.
“Bonita.”
He nods at me and I nod back. Then he asks Alec, “The usual?”

“Dos, por favor.”

Then it dawns on me. “A Fiery Blood Sunset is a smoothie?”

“It's not just a smoothie,” he says in mock horror. “It's a religious experience.”

I roll my eyes and watch as the man begins pulling papayas, oranges, and mangoes from the case. He adds more ingredients at the back counter and after a minute in a blender, he comes back with two Styrofoam cups.

When he hands me mine, I pull the wrapper off the straw and take a sip. I'm preparing a fake smile for the man's sake, but then the smoothie hits my tongue and I'm impressed. This is good. Really good. “Wow,” I say. “It's got a bite.”

“That's the secret ingredient,” Alec says. “Tabasco sauce.”

“It is why we are a hot-blooded people,” the man says, and then he winks. I grin, already liking him. He shuffles back to his seat and his paper, but he gives me one more look. “You come back any time and I'll make you another.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I will.”

And then Alec drives us back to the mountain trail where we were last night. He parks in the same dirt lot, empty now except for a few dusty red solo cups. I fill my mouth with the sweet spiciness of my Sunset as the real one begins off to the west. The
clouds look like they've been dipped in red paint. “Two sunsets at once,” I say. “Not bad.”

His seat creaks as he shifts toward me. “I thought I'd impress you with my romantic nature.”

“You? Romantic?”

He taps his chest. “I come from a very hot-blooded people.”

I laugh. “That I believe.”

His smile fades. “You look beautiful.”

“Better than last night, at least.”

“You kidding?” He shakes his head. “I nearly fell down the stairs when I saw you at the party. That tattoo?” He raises his eyebrows. “Holy hell.”

“I thought it was a nice touch.” I smile, remembering how Jen pretended to shoot herself over the idea. We laughed so hard I can hear it inside my head.

And just like that, new tears are gathering in the corners of my eyes. The tattoos were a part of before. Laughing…a part of before.

“Hey,” Alec murmurs. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I take a drink, letting the icy cold wash away the heat in my throat and chest. “Bad memory is all. And I don't want to talk about it.”

“Okay. But you know we can, right? Talk about it?” He sets down his drink and wipes his palms on his jeans. “You can trust me is what I mean.”

I shrug, giving myself a second. I'm too close to tears. “Really?” I say, making my voice light. “A week ago, you thought I was cheating.”

“I was
afraid
you were cheating. There's a difference.”

“And if I had been?”

“I'd still be with you right now.” His eyes are almost fierce as he watches me.

The sky is darker now, the red hanging just above the crest of the hills. I set down my empty cup, and even though it was cold, my palms are warm.

“I don't want to rush you, Abby. I know this is new. It's just…”

“What?” I ask.

The fading light is behind him and all I see is the curve of his cheekbones and dark eyebrows above shadowed eyes. “It doesn't feel new. It feels…good.” Then he mumbles, “Shit. I'm not good at this.”

His uncertainty tugs at me more than any words he could have said. “It feels good to me too,” I tell him.

“So we'll hang out. See what happens?”

His gaze is so intent. It's as if he's looking into a future of us. I want to follow him there, but how can I think about that now?

I look away, rub a finger along the edge of my cup, and collect a drop of smoothie. If he knew what I was planning, that I've been lying to him. I start to put my finger to my lips, but he stops me, leans forward, and kisses my finger. My mouth goes dry as he sucks the tip between his lips and tastes the bit of smoothie.

Oh my
. My stomach is tight and loose all at the same time. And I think,
I'm here now. We're both here now. Why think about anything else?

He slides his hand under my hair and around my ear. His palm is warm and urges me forward. I close my eyes and then
his lips are opening over mine. There's something almost reverent in his kiss. As if it's a promise.

Inside of me, something hopeful and strong rises in answer. I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm here now.

I kiss him like there's no tomorrow.