Harkham's Case (Harkam's #1) (24 page)

Once his dad found out he’d paid for those expensive concert tickets with his credit card, it was taken away. Well, that was fine. He figured out a free way to celebrate today in a way he thought she might approve of.

Everything was in place. Hopefully she’d cooperate.

He stepped into Calculus, and he had to stifle a giggle when he thought of his secret plans.

“Hi,” he said, tucking his head down to hide his explosive smile.

“Adam, you’re giddy. What’s going on?”

He shrugged and sat down. A second later, he snagged her hand and put it in its proper place.

“My mom told me the other night you stopped by two weeks ago in the evening. Why didn’t you tell me?”

The bubbly, laughing feeling inside quieted. “She was unhappy I was there, and it was almost three weeks now—not two weeks ago. She said she told you to stay away. But you’ve ignored her. I’m glad you did. Is that wrong?”

She shook her head and bit her lip through a smile. Her lip popped out of her teeth’s hold. “It’s not wrong. You’ve got a bit of a naughty streak in you, and I love it at times.” She pulled her hand back and leaned back in her chair, tipped it a little and chuckled.

“I should be bad? That makes you happy?” His head and eyes both followed her as she leaned back further, then rocked back and forth on a chair that was supposed to be stationary.

“You don’t have to be anything but you.” She dropped the chair with a slight thud. “Speaking of which, I have something for you for having to deal with my dragon of a mom.” She opened up her backpack and showed him two of those half-sized cans of soda.

“I can have those?”

She nodded. “But . . . I want you to always eat a full meal beforehand with lots of protein in it. Then you can have only one. So spread these two out over two days. If you do it the way I’m telling you, there should be less of a shock to your system. Sip it—no chugging. And this time, I hope you’ll figure out a way to get rid of the evidence before your sister finds it.”

“I could chuck it out the window and into the pool. Sometimes homeless people wander through our alley and toss stuff into our pool.”

“No. They might ask you about it, and you’re no good at lying.”

“Am too!”

She chuckled and went on, saying, “Where’s someplace you go in your house that your family doesn’t?”

“The piano. Nobody touches it. They hate it.”

She bobbed her head several times in increments. “That sounds perfect. And then maybe on the day the recycling’s being emptied, you can find a way to stuff it down into the bin where nobody can see.”

“I can do that. I can, Mari! You’re the best!” He lurched forward and hugged her tight.

“Not the best, really—just know how to be a dealer.” She snickered.

He let go of her and tuned into the beginning of the lecture, but before long he wanted to be closer to her.

The lights went out for a slide show.

Adam scooted near her without a sound.

Mari paid no heed.

He pushed her hair over her shoulder, and still she was paying attention to the lesson.

This was perfect. Her birthday should be awash in clever, clandestine kisses. He leaned in, kissed from her ear to her collarbone. It was done so slowly, with such precision, no one could have heard it.

That was until Mari moaned softly.

He covered her mouth with his hand, slid his other sneaky hand between her legs and kneaded at her thighs.

She began to weave around in her seat like she was losing her balance and might fall off.

So, he slung a leg over her lap to keep her in place.

He nipped and sucked at her collarbone, continued to play between her legs, getting dangerously higher and higher.

She tilted her head away from him, making the area easier to access.

When the lights went on, he didn’t care. He slowly pulled away and reveled in the way her eyelids were half closed and how she wore a lazy smile.

“At lunchtime, I want you to come with me somewhere.” He cleared his throat and fought off a triumphant laugh.

Her eyebrows rose.

“It’s on campus—I promise.” He crossed his heart and grinned.

“Okay.”

He could barely sit still after she agreed. The class finished up, and they dutifully attended honors Senior English.

He found ways to touch her in secret places some more, but it was harder to do with the lights on.

It didn’t matter, though. He was having fun making her feel good on her birthday.

The best part was she had no idea why he was doing this to her.

When the bell rang, he dragged her behind him.

“Where’re we going?” she asked.

“You’ll see . . .” He breathed hard—the numbers were edging their way into his mind. His nerves jumped about. What if she hated this and thought it was immature?

“My arm may fall off if you keep up this pace,” she teased.

He giggled like a kid. “It won’t. I need you to have both arms for what we’re gonna do.”

“What’re we gonna do?” Her voice went up in pitch.

“Hmm . . . Looks like rain.” He cleared his throat.

He could feel her behind him, angling her body to look up at the sky. “It’s sunny as usual,” she disagreed.

“No, definitely.” He held out his other hand, palm up like drops were landing on it. “It’s gonna rain. And that’s good—you told me in the first week I came here you liked to have rain and blue water. You also said you liked real green grass.” He smothered another giggle with his free hand.

“Adam . . . What’s going on?” She pulled back on his arm, but it did nothing to deter him.

“We don’t have much time to enjoy it, so you should walk faster.”

They stopped behind the fenced-off playground for the preschool kids they had here.

Adam signaled to his brother hiding behind a bush with a hose.

There was an umbrella, two rain slickers and a medium-sized plastic shoe box with a lid on it, sitting on a bench.

Adam grabbed them. He helped her put on the slicker, and as soon as it was secured, the fake rain began.

She mentioned fake green grass, but said nothing about disliking fake rain. So, he brought her the weather she wanted.

Mari turned to him in awe as he placed the umbrella over her head.

“You did this for
me
?” Her eyes were so big and beautiful, they were like inviting silver, flickering candles. Almost reminded him of Christmas.

“Yeah. It’s your birthday, and I love you.” He blinked and looked down but kept the umbrella steady.

She grabbed the umbrella out of his hand and tossed it to the ground. They were both being sprinkled on, but he was good with it because she threw herself at him and wrapped him up with her body.

“Thank you,” she whispered, rocking him back and forth.

He squeezed her with one arm and tugged on the ends of her long, now-damp hair with his other hand. It was fun to do that.

“I usually hate my birthdays,” she admitted.

He knew that but kept it to himself.

She let go, put her palms out and walked in a slow, turning circle, experiencing the false rain from every angle.

He picked up the shoe box on the ground and grabbed a handful, then tossed it at her.

Grass clippings from his lawn that was always irrigated were sticking to her slicker. “You’ve never come over to sit on my lawn with me, so I brought it to
you
.”

She burst into giggles, and he was uncertain if tears were on her cheeks since there was hose water on her head, dripping down.

“You are too good to be real.” She pulled off the rain slicker and the hose stopped.

Good. Zach’s instructions were to keep her clothes dry if he could.

“Sorry your hair got wet. But I’m prepared.” Adam rocked in place a little bit.

Zach came out of the bushes, handed him a blue towel and left.

She waved at him with a big, goofy grin and then turned to Adam. “You wanna dry my hair for me?”

“I . . . I d-don’t know how.” He choked on his words and extended the towel to her.

“It’s not like you can mess up this rat’s nest. I don’t do anything with it. And if it’s wet, people will think I was at PE or something. Nobody’s gonna notice.”

“O-okay,” he stammered.

She turned around, and he slipped one hand under her hair. It was much darker while wet, but he liked that, too.

He sandwiched her hair between the towel, rubbed, but only enough to space out the strands—not hard enough to pull or hurt her.

After he was done, he set the towel down. “Was this enough for a birthday gift? I didn’t know what else to get you. I don’t have any access to money right now.”

She turned around to face him. “You already bought me concert tickets, and you’ve changed my days so they’re like walking on clouds with an angel.”

He smiled and bit the insides of his cheeks so he could keep from saying something dumb.

“No, not walking. Flying. I think you put me on your back between your wings and then soar as high as you can with my weight burdening you.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she kissed him.

She pulled away after a short moment and said, “Perfect. This was the perfect gift. The best birthday present I’ve ever had.”

And with that comment, he was the one flying. All these weeks that he’d kept this umbrella, the rain slickers and towel in his car for inclement weather was not wasted. He was glad he’d made that note that first time she wore a tank top and covered it up with a sweater.

She was wrong about one thing, though—
she
was the angel—not him. Never him. He had no idea how to fly without her.

* * *

After Mari’s birthday about a week ago, things were different. She found it harder to distance herself from Adam. He was a new drug—a new potent addiction. He made her feel better than anything she had ever snorted, shot up, smoked or drank.

He said the most beautiful things to her, making her almost believe she was redeemable. It was nice to live in his dream world for a while. It gave her a sense of peace she hadn’t ever really known.

And right now, she was about to hurt him. It couldn’t be helped.

She drove up to his house after dinnertime and parked in his driveway. Her whole body was shaking with electrified nerves. If only she could stuff him in her suitcase and take her with him.

She sat slumped over her wheel for several minutes trying to give herself a pep talk, but it wasn’t working. If anything . . . she was more determined to just skip town and not say a word—all to avoid seeing that look of devastation in his eyes that would be inevitable.

She sighed, opened the car door and when she slammed it shut, she jumped from how loud it was.

Her legs dragged as she approached his front door. She barely knocked once when the door was flung open.

“You’re here!” he yelled with his eyes all lit up.

He took a huge step forward, picked her up and hugged her so tight she could barely see straight.

“Yeah, I came to see you. I can only have a short visit, though.” She patted his back lightly.

He set her down and beamed at her with those gleaming, perfect white teeth. She could almost see his matching radiant white halo over his head. Why did he have to be so damn perfect? It would be easier to do this if he wasn’t.

“Can I come in?” she asked, nerves shooting through her like bolts of lightning.

“You can always come in my house!” He took her hand but let her lead the way. He was patient with her.

Another trait she envied of him.

When she was inside the living room, his father stepped in and joined them.

He sighed and a look of disappointment crossed his eyes, then settled in his tight jaw. “I know you two are still friends, but I have to say, Mari, I don’t really approve. Especially of the cigarettes.”

“I know, sir. I wish I could say I was working on quitting, but I’m not. It’s the least of my problems.”

He motioned for her to sit. “Then tell me about these problems. I need to know what my son’s gotten himself involved in.”

She sat down, heaved a great sigh and looked him straight in the eye. Now was as good a time as it would ever be to give him the basics of how low-down and filthy she was. “I know Adam’s life got turned around at age twelve—”

“We’re not going to discuss him—I want to hear about who
you
are. Start telling me, or you’re leaving . . .” His eyes were stern, crinkled at the corners, but it made him look wise, not mean.

“I wasn’t going to talk about him. I just was going to say that was how old I was when things went to hell for me, too.” He glared at her use of the word
hell
. “Sorry . . . I’m a little nervous.” She swiped at her face with her free hand. Adam was seated on her right, holding the hand closest to him tightly to the side of his thigh. “I was babysitting, and there was an accident. The baby girl died. This was during a summer I was visiting my dad in a little town where he lives in northern Utah. I’m actually here to say goodbye to Adam because that’s where I’m gonna be for all of this next week during fall break.”