Here With You (8 page)

"I've seen how they treat you. They've been acting mean to every new girl since kindergarten,
but if it makes you feel more special, they're especially mean to you."

"Great," she muttered, hitching her bag closer.

"They feel threatened by you."

She rolled her eyes. "Right."

"They do." He touched her arm. "You're smarter and prettier than they are."

Her stomach twitched nervously and she froze, not sure what to do or how to reply.

Aaron just smiled at her. "Let's go inside so we're not late."

Nodding mutely, she followed him in.

She spent all of class staring at his head, wondering why he was so nice to her. She
had no answer for it.

Rachel stared at the friend request, not sure what to do.

Aaron Hawke wants to be friends on Facebook.

Why? He had plenty of friends. He didn't need her. Boys like him didn't hang out with
social pariahs like her.

She pulled out the lyrics she'd written and looked at them. She'd sat outside Romantic
Notions today
but
there wasn't any sign of Griffin Chase. She
needed
to talk to him. She knew if she asked him to use even one line of her poem it'd be
enough to change everything.

Her email pinged with a new message. Frowning, she looked at her inbox.

It was from her dad. She stared at it, stunned. He hadn't sent her an email since—

Well, it'd been a really long time.

She clicked it open.

———————————————————

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: In case you don't remember, this is your father.

Dear Rachel,

I thought maybe you and I can go out to dinner one of these nights. Maybe Friday?
We can catch a movie afterward.

The thing is, I never see you. I know this is my fault, and I'd like to fix it. Our
world was crushed after your mom died. It was my job to put it back together, but
I didn't know how to do it. I thought I lost everything when Wendy died, but I was
wrong. I still have the world, because I still have you.

I'm sorry. I should have tried harder. I want to change this. Maybe you can meet me
halfway? I think your mom would have wanted that.

Love,

Dad

———————————————————

Rachel stared at the letter. There were so many feelings inside her—all of the stages
of grief that
the
therapist had taught her, only all at once.

But the two biggest were sadness and anger.

He didn't know what mom wanted. Mom wouldn't have wanted to move to San Francisco
—everything
was in New York. Mom would have hated it here, with all the slow-walking, happy people
on the streets. She'd have hated the
–sons
as much as Rachel did. And you couldn't even buy a decent bagel here.

The only thing Mom would have wanted was a special song for her, sung by Griffin Chase.
Rachel knew that, and she was going to make it happen.

She swallowed her tears. She wouldn't cry. Tears didn't help. They only made you feel
sick. She had to do something.

She deleted the email.

She'd find Griffin Chase. She would.

Chapter Eight

"Lottie Chase called me yesterday and told me Grif had been back to visit," her mom
said. "Actually, she mentioned that he
was on his way to
San Francisco."

He'd told her he'd gone home to see his parents.
He'd driven the
old tank
he'd lovingly restored
in high school
. She couldn't believe he still had that old Chevy
.
He'd told her a true love lasts a lifetime. It had to be true love if he manufactured
excuses for road trips just to drive it.
"Yes, he showed up the night of Valentine and Ethan's wedding."

"To visit you."

Switching on the light in the storeroom, Rachel shook her head at her mom's eager
tone. "It's not like that, Mom."

"What is it like, sweetheart?"

"His creativity's flagging and he needs some encouragement. That's all." She opened
a box, looking for tissue paper.

"And sometime in the past year you've become a creativity coach?"

"With all the different jobs I've had, it shouldn't be such a surprise," Rachel replied
dryly.

"You'll find your way, Nicole." Her mom's voice was firm and confident.

If only she could feel that sure about it. Her parents always reassured her that everyone
had a purpose, it just took some people longer to find theirs. At this rate, Nicole
was going to be in her eighties before she figured out what she wanted out of life.

"Are you still drawing?" he mom asked.

This again. She sighed. She thought of the sketchpad she had out on the counter. Sometimes
when it got slow, she worked on designs. "A little bit."

"You're a talented artist, sweetheart. Maybe you should go back to art school. I hear
there are excellent schools in San Francisco."

"And be poor and without means all my life?" She gripped the phone between her ear
and shoulder and lifted a box away to get to the one behind it. "No thanks."

"You're so talented. It's just a shame to waste it."

"You're my mom. You're supposed to think I'm talented."
A-ha—found it.
She withdrew a stack of burgundy tissue. "Remember how Lottie used to post Grif's
drawings on the refrigerator?"

Mom laughed. "I felt so bad for the poor boy. His drawings were awful."

"He couldn't even draw
h
angman." Nicole grinned, remembering how much he'd hated art. But he was a genius
with music and had always known what he wanted.

"I think it's fantastic that Grif is visiting you," her mom said. "You two were so
close at one time, it'll be good for you to get to know each other again. I always
thought you two were meant for each other."

Rachel sighed as she kicked a box out of her way. "It's not like that, Mom."

"What is it like, Nicole?"

She had no idea. That kiss, the handholding, the flutter of anticipation in her belly
whenever he walked in the room... It defied reason.

The front door bell chimed, proverbially saving her. "Mom, I have a customer. I have
to go."

"Love you, sweetheart. Your dad sends his love, too. Give Grif a kiss from me."

Her lips weren't going anywhere near Griffin Chase, but she just murmured in assent
and disconnected the call. Taking the stack of tissue paper, she went back out to
the front.

Bull, Ethan's friend, stood at the counter, looking like his namesake in a china shop.
He was big, but
his size was magnified when he was
surrounded by such femininity. "This is a surprise," she said as she carried the tissue
behind the counter.

"Hey, girl." Bull
flipped a page of her sketchpad
. "Did you draw these?"

B
lus
hing, s
he quickly confiscated it, closing it and stowing it under the register. "They're
nothing really."

"They don't look like nothing, but, hey, what do I know?" He shrugged and handed her
a thermal to-go cup. "I brought you a smoothie."

"That's so"—she tried to find a word as she accepted the cup—"nice. Thank you."

He laughed, deep from his belly. "At the gym, I'm kind of known for my smoothies.
Try it. You'll like it."

Uncapping it, she took a tentative sip. She blinked in surprise. "This is good."

"Told ya." Grinning, he leaned on the counter and looked around. "Love the digs. If
I knew you worked here, I'd have come sooner."

"You didn't know me sooner. We only met at the wedding." She tipped her head and frowned
at him. "How
did
you know I worked here?"

"Valentine told me." He shook his head. "She had some crazy idea that you and I would
be good together."

Nicole shook her head. Thank goodness Valentine had decided to stop matchmaking. She
really had no skill for it. "Valentine means well."

Bull pointed a finger at her. "I meant it when I said you're not my type. You're too
young and too scrawny."

"Scrawny?" She couldn't help grinning.

"I like my women with a little meat on them. I like something to hold on to." He looked
around. "I'm not dating anyone right now, but maybe when I am
,
I can come back and buy her things. That green bra over there rocks."

She looked at where he pointed, to the sassy emerald satin demi and garter. "That's
really nice on."

"Which brings me to the reason I came by. Griffin Chase."

Nicole groaned. "Not you, too."

He held his hands up. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Did I look that disgruntled to see him?"

"No, you looked wary but hopeful, which is why I wanted to check on you." Bull leaned
in, his finger right in her face. "He may be one of the greatest musicians since Springsteen,
but that doesn't mean he's allowed to walk all over people."

"Grif isn't going to walk all over me." Touched, she took Bull's hand and squeezed
it. "You're sweet for caring."

"Of course I care." He puffed his chest out. "You're the best girl of my best man's
best girl."

"I
think I
actually understood that," she said with a grin.

He chucked her with his fist, surprisingly gently for someone who beat up other men
for a living. "It's my smoothie. It adds brain power."

"I'll be sure to drink
all of
it then." Hopefully it also added fortitude, to give her the strength to resist the
temptation of having Grif so close.

Chapter Nine

Rachel hated chemistry. It was a lot of letters and numbers jumbled together and none
of it made sense.

But lately she had another reason to dread going: Aaron was in her class.

She dragged her feet down the hall, wishing she could skip. But Laurel Heights High
was strict about attendance, so she wanted to save getting in trouble for when she
really needed to play hooky.

Looking at the ground, she scuffled into class and slinked onto her seat at the back
lab table. She hoped no one noticed her.

But her hopes were dashed when Lydia, who sat next to her, looked up from her textbook
and said brightly, "Hey Rachel."

Mumbling something in return, she tucked her chin into her chest as she got out a
notebook—not the one her mom got her—and worked on the lyrics she wanted to give Griffin
Chase when she met him again.

Most people would have gotten the clue. Lydia wasn't most people. "Did you finish
the homework for today? If you want to check your answers, I have mine here."

Coming from anyone else, the offer would have been a kiss-up. Lydia, though, was just
enthusiastic about science and friendly despite Rachel's lack of interest.

She didn't get it. She'd have thought Lydia was just clueless, but after sitting next
to her for weeks, she realized Lydia was just
nice
. "I'm okay. Thanks," she added as an afterthought.

"No worries!" Lydia flashed her perfect white teeth and then asked the geeky boy who
sat across from them about some sort of compound.

Rachel watched him light up with nerdy interest. Shaking her head, she checked out
the rest of class as the final bell rang.

Aaron Hawke stared at her from across the room.

She looked away quickly, her heart beating. She let her gaze dart over to him again.
His lips were curved in a smile this time, like he knew she had a secret, and he knew
what it was.

Blushing, she turned away and caught Madison giving her the evil eye. Confused, Rachel
looked away.

Praeger, their chem teacher, clacked a stirrer against a flask. "Settle down, class.
Today we're going to delve into the scintillating world of exothermic reactions, so
I'll assign your new lab partners and we can get to it, huh?"

Frowning, she turned to Lydia. "New lab partners? I thought we were paired for the
rest of the year?"

Looking perplexed, Lydia lifted her hands up. "Apparently not?"

The teacher began reading names in tandem. "Ostrinsky and Parma, James and Brown,
Sardoff and White, Rosenbaum and Hawke, Fishman and—"

Hawke? Her gaze jerked up to Aaron's. He just grinned at her.

Lydia leaned over. "You're with Aaron Hawke. You don't know it yet, but you're so
lucky. Not only is he cute, but he's the smartest boy in class."

"I'm something," she said, gathering up her books. "I'm just not sure lucky is the
right word."

"You're right." Grinning, Lydia handed her her bag. "Especially if Madison retaliates."

"Madison?"

"She's got a wicked crush on him."

Rachel stopped packing her things. "What?"

"I thought you knew." Lydia blinked at her owlishly. "That's the reason Madison and
her crony have been giving you such a hard time. Although I don't know why you have
to pay for the fact that he likes you."

"He doesn't like me," she said automatically. She glanced at Madison, who had
kill
written all over her face.

"Uh-huh," Lydia said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes.

She slowly made her way across the room, conscious of Madison's death glare as she
dropped the bag and perched on the seat next to Aaron.

"Hey." He nudged her with his elbow. "You could look a little less like you're being
led to the gas chamber."

She gave him a baleful look. "I'm in chemistry."

"But look who your lab partner is."

"Feeling modest today?" she mumbled, leaving her notebook closed so he wouldn't see
her lyrics.