Contractor (36 page)

back up to her face. "…you made that?"

"Just wanted an excuse to put it on." She

bit her lip. "…so, what do you think?"

"I think that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever

seen."

"Then do something about it."

He swallowed. "…I didn’t…um, my

wallet’s in my room."

"…stupid." She flicked a small package

at him. It hit him in the forehead and fell to

the bed.

Once he saw what it was, he grabbed

her hand and pulled her onto the pillows. She

yelped and collapsed on top of him. He

stopped her laugh with his lips.

****

The next day, Rachel told him that things

between her and Eleanor were stiff, but

cordial. Eleanor was acting as if nothing had

happened. Rachel held out hope that Eleanor

was quiet because she was rethinking things.

Daniel wasn’t holding his breath.

With Eleanor’s choking vines clipped

away, their relationship blossomed even

faster. For a while, Daniel had been afraid it

would suddenly stop, that she’d get bored, or

he’d find something about her he disliked,

but it never happened. None of his worries

came to pass. Rachel was endlessly

dynamic. He never knew what would happen

when he went to her room. A lot of times she

just jumped him—though she was

progressive enough to do it in plenty of

places besides their rooms. He started

feeling the expense of all the condoms.

But that was secondary. Sometimes he’d

go in and end up dancing with her to 80’s

music. They went to a few parties together.

Sometimes they would simply sit and enjoy

the silence. He liked those times the most—

both of them wrapped up in a blanket, him

with a book, her working a needle through

her latest doll. Apparently, when she

accumulated a batch large enough to fill her

closet, she donated all of the toys to charity.

And that was the kind of person she

was. She had twice his heart. She was a

place to warm his hands at, a source of

support when he felt chafed and cold. It

reminded him of Felix. She was better than

him. She was something he was willing to

fight to protect. She was something that made

being a contractor—being a monster—a lot

easier. Because even if he was, he could take

comfort in the fact that they would never

have to be.

October brought the first snowstorm to

Boston. It had been very cold the week

following the Vorid dome, so the snow stuck

without melting. The city looked like a maze

of gingerbread covered in frosting.

They went out to take in the wintry

sights. They walked to Boston Common

hand-in-hand. She had a big white winter

jacket. Her red hair was vibrant against the

snow. He watched her breath steam out in the

cold, brushing over her face. He felt like he

could stare at her all day.

Their path wound through the park

grounds. The storm had let up to tiny flurries;

flakes drifted around their shoulders. Far

from the road, they plodded along between

silent trees weighted down by snow. It felt

like something reserved for Christmas Eve,

not a random day in autumn.

She plucked her hand free from his and

fell into the snow on her back. She started

sweeping her arms and legs to make a snow

angel. After brushing a space clean, she sat

up and turned to inspect her work. "Hmm.

It’s ok."

"Yeah," Daniel said. "Except for the

third arm you gave it when you propped

yourself up."

"All the cool kids are doing it."

Daniel nodded sagely. "Yeah, I heard

about that. Apparently mutant angels are all

the rage."

"Let’s see you do better, smartass."

"I don’t have to make an angel," Daniel

said. "I’ve got one standing right here."

"Aww." She turned on him with big

green eyes and a bright smile. "That is the

sweetest -"

He caught her in the shoulder with a fat

snowball. Her jacket deflected most of it, but

the spray caught the side of her cheek. She

stumbled a step back and spluttered. "You

fucking jackass!" She bent down to make her

own weapon. He got her right on top of the

head with his second shot.

She shrieked and charged at him. Daniel

tried to get space, but he tripped on a tree

root buried under the white fluff and fell

down. She fell on his torso, pinning him with

her legs. Her handful of snow was promptly

shoved down into his jacket collar.

"Shit!" He scrambled to scrape it out

before it melted. "Cold! Cold!"

"Serves you right." She straddled his

chest and watched him struggle with a

vengeful grin.

Once he’d gotten what he could off his

skin, he fell back and looked at her. "…hmm.

Can’t complain about the view."

"I should have known better than to let

my guard down. I saw your eyes shifting ever

since we got in the park."

"That obvious, huh?"

"It’s you," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I have to expect

the worst."

Daniel flipped her over and kissed her.

They stayed like that for more than a few

seconds, then he helped her up when the cold

started seeping through. He brushed the snow

off her hair. "You are an angel."

"Don’t think I’ll forgive you that easy."

He smiled and took her hand. They started

walking down again. "Can I ask you

something?" she said.

"Ask me anything."

"Did you ever have a girlfriend before?"

She leaned on his jacket. "I just get the

feeling you have more experience than me."

"Once."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Aaand?"

"…sophomore year, I dated a girl in my

high school’s orchestra."

"Wait, what? You never told me you

played an instrument."

"Cello," Daniel said. "My mother was a Cellist. She taught me since I was…five or

six. She was going to teach Felix, too, but…"

"She passed away," Rachel finished.

Daniel nodded. "So, your girlfriend?"

"We dated for a year, actually. We were

very close. But when my mother died, I…"

He stopped, sighed. "I basically turned into

an asshole for a while. I didn’t put anything

into the relationship. She tried to snap me out

of it for a while. Her friends kept telling her

to dump me. Eventually, she did. We never

spoke again after that. I…think I regret that."

"Thanks for telling me." Rachel hugged

him tighter, but offered no further judgment

on his old relationship. "So, were you any

good at the cello?"

"I was pretty good. First chair."

"I get the feeling you’re playing it

down."

"…I stopped doing that, too. At the same

time."

"It hit you hard, didn’t it?"

"Yeah," Daniel whispered.

"Why did you stop?"

"I think you pretty much hit the nail on

the head."

"I want to hear it from you."

Daniel saw a bench on the side of the

path. He lowered himself down. Rachel

tucked in next to him. "I tried," Daniel said.

"Every time I picked it up it reminded me of

her. I couldn’t get through a song without

crying. So I stopped. I couldn’t take it."

"…I see."

"You have an opinion," Daniel said.

"It’s your decision. I don’t have a right

to say anything about it."

He looked at her. "What you have to say

is important to me."

Rachel smiled. She looked at that

ground for a moment, composing her words,

then up at him. "The cello reminds you of

your mother. But that’s not a bad thing. It’s a

good thing. It’s what she passed down to

you. It’s something that holds all your

memories together. You shouldn’t avoid it.

You should cherish it."

Daniel looked to the sky. His eyes

followed a snowflake as it flittered and

swayed to the ground. It landed on top of a

drift against the base of a tree.

People cherished their memories. Mrs.

Faldey had her pictures, her classrooms of

children. Jack had his old backpack covered

with pins and stickers. Rachel was speaking

from experience—she still sewed, still did

what her mother had taught her. She hung

onto that even through Eleanor’s insistence

that it was just a childish hobby.

But what did he have?

"I think you’re right, Miss Ashworth.

Thank you."

"You’re welcome." She kissed him on

the cheek. "Besides, I want to hear you play."

"Huh?"

"Put your money where your mouth is,"

she said. "Play me a song. I’d like that."

"…then I will." He kissed her. "Hey,

Rachel?"

"What?"

Daniel had intended to say three very

specific words, then, but for some reason,

his mouth felt full of mud and his tongue felt

like dried sandpaper. He licked his lips.

"Mind if I kiss you?"

"You don’t have to ask."

He kissed her again. She kissed him

back.

Eventually, they made their way back to

the dorm. Rachel was eating dinner with

Eleanor that night, so Daniel collected a few

friends for the cafeteria. Before they left, he

looked up the number for a music store

downtown, but it turned out that renting a

cello was a bit expensive.

He spent the night running back to

Aplington.

****

The next day, Daniel sat in his room, his

feet over the edge of his bed. His cello case

rested on his lap. He’d dusted it off.

He hadn’t been able to open it yet.

The door opened. Daniel glanced up.

Jack walked in and threw his backpack on

the ground. "Classes were balls today. I hate

macroeconomics. It’s drier than a mummified

pussy."

Daniel snorted. "Yeah."

Jack looked back over. He eyed the

sleek black case. "That an instrument?"

"Cello."

"…your mom’s? The one you

mentioned?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

"Mmm."

"Did your dad bring it or something?"

"He sent it," Daniel lied. "Came while you were gone."

"So you gonna stare at it or play it?"

Daniel fingered the latch on one end.

"I’m just…taking my time."

"Why now?" Jack sat at his desk,

opposite Daniel. "You got the bug? Feeling

inspired?"

"…people…have things." He patted the

case. "This is my thing."

"It’s your thing."

"Yeah."

"That’s probably the least articulate

explanation I’ve ever heard," Jack said.

"Yesterday, Rachel and I went out in the

snow. And we were talking, about a few

things, and I told her about the first girlfriend

that I had. She was in orchestra too. We

broke up a little after my mom died."

"I’m telling you, man," Jack said.

"Bitches be crazy. She went and dumped you

when you needed her most."

"…I kinda deserved it, from the way I

was acting. It wasn’t the day after. She tried

for a month or two."

"Gee, a whole two months. How noble."

"Don’t talk shit about people you don’t

know, ok?"

"…sorry."

"…it’s alright," Daniel said. "I was just as responsible for it. She didn’t have any

obligation to drag me out of…whatever it

was. But she tried a good long while

anyway. But whatever. That’s over. I already

like Rachel better than I ever liked her, I

think."

"So the orchestra subject brought up you

playing the cello," Jack prompted.

"Yeah. She wants to hear me play."

"It doesn’t seem like you want to do that

very much."

Daniel shrugged. "It seemed like a good

idea at the time. Now it’s…"

"You know," Jack said, "I don’t really like Rachel, Daniel. I think she’s hiding

something from you, something big.

Something she’s got no business hiding,

that’s going to hit you worse than…I dunno.

But it’s not good."

Daniel felt his jaw clench. Jack was an

observant son of a bitch.

"That being said," Jack continued, "in this case, I think she’s right. But don’t do it

for her. Do it for yourself. Play because you

want to."

Daniel sat there for a time.

He snapped open the case. Jack watched

him as he lifted the cello free of its red

velvet padding. He set the tip on the floor,

propped the instrument between his legs, and

raised the bow to the strings.

His first notes were hesitant. Careful.

He played with pegs for a minute, tuning it

by ear.

And then he played. Something simple,

something easy. A lullaby he knew by heart.

He finished. He let the bow rest on the

ground.

Jack clapped slowly. "Hey, man. Not

bad at all."

"…thanks, Jack."

Jack looked at Daniel. "You’re the one

that helped me realize I have to live for

myself. Not for someone else. So…just

returning the favor, I guess."

"You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,"

Daniel said. "I…thanks for putting up with