Aven's Dream (36 page)

“Thank you,” I said, taking the snack.

I ate quietly, unable to dismiss the encounter with James.

“Did I miss something at lunch today?” I asked.

“Ignore James,” Will said with bitterness in his voice.

When I looked at him searchingly, Will’s face softened.

“He was being spiteful. That is just James.”

But I couldn’t help thinking that James’s hatred wasn’t so much generalized hostility toward the world, as it was a singular hatred for me.

“He must really hate me,” I muttered.

“It’s not you. His grief and loneliness have made him bitter. Before I met you, I was more like him than you could imagine. I never thought I would find happiness like this. He will come around. It will just take time.”

Everyone kept saying that, but it seemed highly unlikely.

The next day at school, things were better. Sort of. James remained conspicuously absent during lunch, which made it easier introducing Gen and Edmond to everyone else. Part of me had been hoping that Will and the others would blend in better if they were camouflaged by the rest of us. Instead, they just appeared even more exotic. I wasn’t sure where
I
belonged now. I had drifted into a parallel universe again.

“So are you going to the dance?” Amy asked Gen, breaking the silence.

I smiled gratefully in her direction, noticing that even the guys were hesitant to look directly at Edmond, but that probably had to do more with his intimidating size than anything else.

“I can’t wait,” Gen said, enthusiasm momentarily animating her perfect features. “By the way, I love the dress you picked out for Aven.”

“Thanks,” Amy smiled.

During our shopping expedition, Gen had forced me to show her the dress Amy had picked. When silence settled over the table again, I wondered if it was going to remain this way forever—because I definitely wasn’t the chatty conversation-starter type.

“Hey, Will. Where’s the other guy who was with you guys yesterday?” Sean asked.

I shot Sean a sharp look, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“He’ll show up eventually,” Will shrugged.

But he didn’t.

James managed to avoid us—or more likely me—for the rest of the week. But I had bigger things to worry about with my driver’s test coming up. As the day approached, Will offered to let me take the test in the Aston, but I decided against it. Instead, I had my dad pick me up from school Friday afternoon. Will insisted on following us, probably assuming I would crash and need to be dashed to the emergency room. The thought brought back memories that made the acid churn in my stomach, and I couldn’t help thinking of the real reason I had delayed getting my license.

It was the night the highway patrol had come to our house to inform my dad that a drunk driver had crossed the double yellow line on Coast Highway, killing my mom.

She had been teaching a night class at a community college nearby, and two nights a week, she would come home after I was asleep. That night, I had sat up in bed, my entire body racked with pain—and I had known then. But I had forced myself to believe it wasn’t true, that it was only a bad nightmare. After going back to sleep, I was startled awake again, this time to the sound of the doorbell. Downstairs, I had seen the flashing blue lights through the window and the officers in the doorway, their faces braced for the crushing misery of those whose loved ones were never coming home.

In the moment he had turned to face me, my dad had seemed like a ghost, like his soul had been ripped from his body. He had held me, whispered that it would be all right, but I had known then that only half of him was left. After that night, I hadn’t known how much of me was left, either. I wanted desperately to keep my mom in a happy place, but the memories still caused the gaping hole in my heart to ache.

My dad shook my shoulder gently, and when I looked around, I saw that we had reached the parking lot of the DMV. Will appeared and opened the passenger door for me, and the three of us walked toward the squat building tucked inside a dilapidated strip mall a few blocks from downtown. The interior of the DMV was even more miserable than the outside. The air itself seemed gray and dim under the terrible fluorescent lighting. The grim scenery did nothing for my nerves. Rushing through the application, I waited in an uncomfortable plastic chair for my number to be called, only vaguely aware that Will was watching me closely. My breathing was shallow, my palms damp. The only good thing I could think of right now was that, despite a thick layer of gray clouds, the rain had taken a brief vacation from its constant assault.

When a monotone voice called my number, Will offered me his hand, and we walked over to the counter. A nervous-looking man with a bad comb-over stood waiting with a clipboard. I moved toward him unsteadily, feeling like I was having an out-of-body experience.

“Ms. Casey?” the man said, consulting his clipboard.

I nodded.

“Do you have your completed application and proof of insurance for the vehicle in which you plan to take the exam?”

He sounded bored, like he had already delivered this speech fifty times this week, which was possible. My driver’s test was nothing special to him. I handed him the paperwork and my dad’s proof of insurance for the Volvo. Giving the papers a cursory look, he grunted before attaching them to the clipboard. When I followed him to the parking lot, Will followed silently a few paces behind. We reached the car, and the man gave Will a sharp look. Will looked back at him for a moment before the man turned quickly and hurried to the other side of the car without a backwards glance.

Will put his hands on my shoulders before bending down to kiss my forehead. Suddenly I felt much calmer, like Will had sucked the nervousness right out of me. He opened my door, and I climbed into the driver’s seat. I hadn’t driven much since the summer, and it felt foreign to be behind the wheel of more than a ton of steel. The sound of the engine made me wince when I turned the key in the ignition.

As I pulled cautiously out of the parking space, the man with the clipboard—his nametag read Phil Johnson—relayed curt instructions. I concentrated on signaling and checking my mirrors compulsively as I drove through surface streets. I executed a three-point turn, and before I knew it we were headed back to the DMV parking lot.

My last task was to maneuver the Volvo in between orange cones, presumably to see if I could park without mangling other people’s cars. Backing out of the space again, I was surprised when I managed not to hit a single cone. Phil Johnson smiled wearily as I parked the car in an empty section of the parking lot.

“Congratulations. Bring these papers to the counter, and they’ll issue you a temporary license.”

“I passed?” I asked in disbelief.

“You got a ninety-seven,” he replied, getting out of the car.

“Is that good?”

I followed after him in a daze.

“A hundred is the best you can get,” he called back before disappearing into the building.

I stood there, stunned. I jumped when a hand touched my shoulder.

“How’d it go?” my dad asked.

Turning, I saw Will and my dad standing next to me.

“I-I passed,” I said.

“What’s wrong? You don’t seem too excited,” my dad said.

“I’m still in shock, I guess.”

“You wanna drive home?” he asked.

“Um, maybe. It still hasn’t sunk in yet. I’m going to turn in my papers.”

Will followed me inside to the counter.

“I thought you were going to lose consciousness,” he said.

His tone was humorous, but I could hear the underlying tension in his voice.

“I was a little nervous,” I admitted.

“A
little
?”

“Okay, I was having an out-of-body experience.”

“I noticed. I was ready to pull you from the car.”

“You followed me?” I asked in disbelief.

“Do you blame me?”

The person in front of me moved away, and I stepped forward. I handed over the paperwork, and the woman behind the counter pointed around the corner. When I got to the painted line on the floor, she snapped a picture of me before printing a provisional license with a grainy black and white picture of me.

I
had
hoped to get the real thing, a little plastic card with my name and picture, but I would settle for being able to say I was legally allowed to drive before my eighteenth birthday. As we walked outside, my dad tossed me the keys to the Volvo, and Will grudgingly moved away from us toward his car.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“I should be. It’s your car now,” my dad smiled.

“
What
?” My jaw dropped open.

“You’ll have to get a job, of course, to pay for gas.”

“Dad, this is too much,” I whispered.

He waved his hand, gesturing for me to get in the car.

“It’s time I traded up, anyway,” he laughed. “Will and his friend Gen made me realize I could use an upgrade. I’ve had the Volvo since you were five, Aven. It’s time to pass the torch.”

I sat down in the driver’s seat and smiled. He had a point, and I wasn’t about to complain
too
much about a free car.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s too late for second thoughts. I already picked up the replacement this morning.”

My eyes narrowed.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“Since the dean announced raises for faculty,” he said.

I bit my lip.

“Thanks, Dad. Really. I love it. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Well, it’s no Aston Martin,” he said wryly.

I drove carefully on the way home and was startled when I didn’t see Will’s car out front. I did, however, see an unfamiliar silver Volvo in the driveway. My dad’s upgrade. I parked behind the new car, and a second later, the Aston pulled up at the curb. He must have followed us the entire way home, going out of his mind creeping along at my pace. I grinned at him when he walked up to us.

“Will, are you staying for dinner?” my dad asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“I had something earlier, but I’ll stay if you don’t mind.”

My dad opened the front door, and we followed him in.

“I’ll let you kids get things ready while I finish up in the office,” he called over his shoulder as he headed upstairs.

Kids
. I bit back a smile.

“Are you picking up Mrs. Hendrix?” I called when my dad reached the landing.

“Seven-thirty sharp.”

I hurried to let Darcy into the back yard. In the kitchen, gathering ingredients for the pasta sauce, I studied Will stealthily as he sat at the kitchen table. His eyes were still a beautiful, liquid sapphire color.

He rose and appeared next to me in one of those blindingly fast motions that took my breath away. When he took the knife from me and began chopping the vegetables, I scowled at him. Sighing, I turned to the cupboard to retrieve cans of tomato sauce and spices. A second later, he sat down at the kitchen table, and I paused, leaning against the counter.

“Is it getting better, being around me?” I asked.

“
Better
implies that any moment with you has been less than perfect.”

I frowned at him.

“You know what I mean.”

“Being with you makes me happier than I imagined possible. I could never ask for anything more than that.”

“So that would be a big, fat no.”

I turned back to finish making dinner, reflecting on my conversation with Gen over the weekend—specifically the part about Will wanting me to become like him. I had been hesitant to bring it up with Will, mostly because I didn’t know how I felt. Plus, I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid that she had been right or wrong about him wanting me to become like them.

After dinner, when my dad left to bring Mrs. Hendrix and Angel home, Will asked if I wanted to go to the movie theatre in town. I nodded, baffled by his sudden interest in something so
human
. When my dad walked back in, Will went over to the closet and retrieved my jacket.

“Mr. Casey? Is it all right if I take Aven to the movies? I promise to have her back by eleven.”

“Sure, you two go ahead.”

I studied Will, wondering if he was using mind control on my dad. Then again, even on a Friday night, my dad was always eager to work or read. Besides, I could feel my dad’s relief now that his reclusive daughter finally had a social life—even if that meant he had to worry about boys.

“Have fun,” my dad said as I kissed him on the cheek.

As Will and I walked outside, it occurred to me that we really hadn’t been on a normal
date
. Not that anything about us was ever going to be normal. Walking toward Will’s car, I zipped up my jacket. It was just short of freezing outside, but still dry. I sat down in the passenger seat and looked over at Will when he appeared in the driver’s seat.