Just Like Fate (13 page)

After school, I hurry home and drop my bag in the entryway,
then grab an apple from the kitchen and head upstairs.
“Mom?” I call, but she doesn’t answer. “Mom?”
No one seems to be home, so I go to my room and take
off my school clothes. Simone and I split up to check in at our
respective houses and change into costumes—we’re going to
watch a scary movie at her place, then hit the haunted house
at the community center. But fresh off an afternoon of cute
text exchanges with Joel—he can’t wait to draw me again, he
can’t wait to kiss me—I’m planning on stopping by his place
to invite him along. I want to spend time with him, but also,
as I look at myself in my gingham dress, red shoes, cape, and
mask, I can admit that I want him to see me in my costume.
Superhero Dorothy is awesome.
I can’t help but smile as I spritz a little perfume on my
wrists, imagining Joel kissing them again. Feeling like it’s
something that Dorothy might wear, I take Gram’s necklace
from its white box I have stashed in my closet and put it on.
When I see the
N
resting against my skin, I’m filled with comfort, ready to make this Halloween unforgettable. Ready to
spend my first Halloween with Joel Ryder.
Twenty minutes later, nerves are mingled with excitement
as I turn onto Joel’s street. I park a couple houses down from
his so I can check for lipstick smudges on my teeth without
him seeing me. I climb out of the car, shivering a little: Fall
always seems to change to winter on Halloween, even though
it’s seemed colder than usual since . . . I stop, a wave of sadness washing over me. It’s been cold since Gram died.
I’m still thinking about Gram as I make my way down the
sidewalk, touching absently at the necklace, and it isn’t until
I’m right in front of Joel’s house that I glance up.
I freeze.
Lauren is standing on Joel’s porch while he stands in
the doorway, his hand on her arm. Her long, wavy dark hair
is unmistakable. The moment is intimate. And when they
embrace, the moment is heartbreaking. I want to sink straight
into the ground and disappear, but then Joel glances over Lauren’s shoulder to see me standing there. In a superhero mask
and sparkly red shoes. His eyes widen, and I expect him to
call to me. To walk past his ex-girlfriend and invite me in.
But instead our gazes just lock, and after what feels like
forever, but is probably less than fifteen seconds, I force myself
to turn around and leave, rushing to the car before Lauren can
see me running off with my cape between my legs. I’m humiliated. Hurt.
And the minute I pull away from his house, I take out my
phone to send him one last text at the stoplight.
LEAVE ME
ALONE
, I write. And then I turn it off so I won’t have to see
his reply.

I’m panicked, rushing toward the college center as my bright
green boots clop on the pavement. I hear several snickers, but
more whistles, as I pass people walking around campus, but I
ignore them. After all, I am dressed as Sexy Robin—which, if I
wasn’t so worried, would be completely humiliating. Actually,
it’s still really humiliating. I yank open the heavy glass door of
the building and nearly kill myself on the slippery tile floor as
I get inside.

About twenty minutes before he was supposed to pick
me up, Chris called me at my dad’s house from the infirmary.
Turns out that my boyfriend had been too impatient to wait
for the elevator and decided to take the stairs—at bat speed.
He fell down the last flight, injuring his leg. If he’s okay, I’m
going to kill him.

“I’m looking for Christopher Drake?” I say to the girl
behind the information desk. She looks up and then presses
her lips together to hide her smile.

Seriously going to kill him.
“Yep.” My costume consists
of knee-high green boots and a green sequin skirt with a red
bustier. I’m wearing a denim jacket, but still, it’s over the top.
Simone helped me order it online, and when I first put it on,
I nearly covered myself with a blanket. Simone swore it didn’t
look trashy—just “cutely sexy.” Judging from the looks I got
jogging through campus, I’m not sure she was telling me the
truth.

I thank the girl at the desk after she gives me directions.
Before I walk away, I ask, “So . . . he’s okay, right?” She takes
a while to answer, and I feel my entire body sway with worry.

“I’m not sure,” she says, glancing at her computer, then
back at me. She must tell from my expression that I’m not
exactly taking this well. She reaches to put a warm hand on
my arm. “Hey,” she says soothingly. “I’m sure he’s fine. If not
they would have sent him to the ER.”

That’s true.
I nod, thanking her, and then let my heart settle down. I can’t always expect the worse. This isn’t like with
Gram. It doesn’t always end in tragedy.

I walk inside the large room with paper-covered exam
tables. There are several people in varying degrees of injury.
One guy is moaning, clutching his stomach. Another one has
an ice pack over his face. Halloween on campus—it’ll probably only get crazier as the night goes on. It doesn’t take me
long to find Chris, laid up with his foot wrapped in Ace bandages. At that moment he looks over, his eyes a little glassy
from what I guess are painkillers, and smiles.

“You are certainly a sexy Robin,” he says in a raspy voice.
I bite back my laugh and start toward him, the clicking of
my heels drawing the stares of several other patients. “Don’t
you dare be funny until you tell me you’re all right,” I say, stopping at this side. He’s still wearing a muscled Batman chest
plate, a bright yellow belt.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m fine.” Chris lets his head fall back.
“Although I really did have my heart set on sweeping the costume contest circuit.” Even now, looking completely pathetic
and sorry, Chris makes light of things. I wonder if he’ll always
do that—even when things aren’t so funny. I reach to brush
his blond hair to the side, and he closes his eyes. I want to
lean down and kiss him better, relieved he’s okay. But instead
I just sigh.

“Does it hurt?” I ask, motioning to his leg.
“Right now? No.” He sits up, looking pretty dazed. “Hairline fracture near the ankle. No treatment but to stay off it for
a few weeks.”
That doesn’t sound like fun, but at least he’s not in the
hospital. At that thought, I swallow hard and force a smile.
“So can you go home?” I ask him. I exhale when he says yes
and calls for the nurse.

I open Chris’s door for him as he crutches in. Looking away,
I drop his prescription on his desk while he changes. When I
turn around, he’s shirtless in a pair of basketball shorts. I can’t
deny that my pulse quickens: He’s incredible.

I watch as he hops over to ease into bed, wincing a few
times as he settles under the sheets. When he’s done, he looks
in my direction.

“Come cuddle with me,” he murmurs, although his
tone leads me to believe that isn’t exactly what he’s thinking.
“Come love me, Caroline.”

“Are you sure you’re even injured?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Stop being cute,” I say, slipping out of my jacket and

boots before joining him. Chris puts the blanket over my
shoulders, taking me by the waist to turn me toward him. He
slides his knee between mine. My costume is uncomfortably
tight, but the heat of Chris’s skin is intoxicating. I curl up next
to him, comfortable—not pressured or anxious.

“I’m sorry I ruined Halloween,” he whispers. “I’ll make it
up to you next year.”
Next year.
“Deal,” I say, not acknowledging that would
imply we’ll still be together in a year. Chris shifts, his every
movement making me a little crazier. His hand grazes my hip,
and finally I can’t handle it anymore.
I take his arm and pull him closer—sliding underneath
him as he adjusts. Chris pauses, looking me over like he’s surprised that we’re in such a compromising position. But my
heart is racing and my body is tingling. I reach to put my hand
on his chest and feel his heart pounding, too. He rests on his
elbow, coming incredibly close to me as he brushes back my
hair.
“Christopher,” I murmur when he doesn’t make a move.
“Just kiss me.”
“I don’t want to ruin this,” he says more seriously than I’d
ever expect him to be capable of.
Does he not see how nuts I am for him?
Before I can rethink
it, I lift my head to kiss him. He tastes like candy and boy and
something so right I can’t even put it into words. As he deepens the kiss, I make a soft sound and Chris pulls back with
a wicked grin. “You’re fun,” he murmurs. When I laugh, he
carefully flips us over to take the pressure off his leg. I kiss him
again until we both can hardly breathe.
I’m not sure how long we spend kissing, but it’s not until
I hear my phone buzzing across the room that I glance at the
clock. It’s gotten really late.
I straighten and stare down at Chris as he reaches for my
Robin belt buckle to pull me back to him.
“Are you going to try and get me naked now?” I ask with
a smirk.
“I’m still playing hard to get,” he says. When I don’t
budge, he sits up and kisses low on my neck. Then he leans
back to look at me. “Unless, of course, you want to get naked.”
“I was supposed to be home an hour ago.” I give him a
quick peck. “Ask me again next time.”
“Uh, I believe you’re the one who asked.”
“True. Well, then, I’ll ask again next time.” I kiss him once
more before climbing up, smoothing down my ridiculous costume.
I grab my things and zip up my boots, looking over my
shoulder to see Chris blinking slowly like he’s falling asleep.
“You better call me,” he says as if he’s a one-night stand
I’m walking out on.
“I would,” I say teasingly, “but I’ll probably be too busy
making out with strange boys on park benches.”
He chuckles. “Guess I was wrong about you.”
I walk back over and lean down to give him a slow, sweet
kiss good night. I practically have to drag myself from the
comfort of his arms, the safety I feel when I’m with him.
I’m so happy—so not myself as I climb into the elevator.
I can’t stop smiling, laughing to myself like I’ve gone completely mad. And as I cross the lobby, I realize why: I’m pretty
sure I’ve fallen in love with Christopher Drake.

Enraged, hurt, and humiliated by Joel—
he just
stood
there with
Lauren!
—I drive in the rain without thinking to the place I feel
safest. I end up parked in front of Gram’s.
You’ll help me figure it
out
, I think to her. And then I remember that she’s dead.

And this time, for the first time, I cry.
In her driveway, my tears soak the superhero mask until
I rip it off and toss it onto the seat next to me. I cry for every
second that I haven’t since Gram died nearly three weeks ago.
I cry for her. I cry for Joel. I cry for everything.
When the car windows fog up from my outburst, I get out
and go inside. I’m shocked by the emptiness of the place, how
barren it looks with all of Gram’s stuff gone—not in boxes, but
actually gone. I guess I hadn’t thought about what it’d look without her possessions. But what it looks like is nothing. Bare floors.
Naked walls. Discolored spots where things sat or hung for years.
In the isolating quiet, I turn on my phone, intending to
call Simone, but see that I have four texts and two missed calls
from Joel. I read the texts:
CAROLINE, SERIOUSLY, THAT WAS NOT WHAT YOU
THINK.
I’M AT YOUR HOUSE; WHERE ARE YOU?
I’M WAITING FOR YOU HERE. I HOPE YOUR MOM
DOESN’T CALL THE COPS ON ME.
TEXT ME. PLEASE.
In my hand, the phone rings again. “Aren’t we persistent
today?” I ask bitterly.
“Finally,” Joel says, sounding relieved. “Why’d you take
off like that? I texted you right away—and I tried to follow you,
but you were NASCAR driving out of my neighborhood.”
I’m not in the mood for jokes. “I wasn’t about to stick
around and see you and Lauren defaulting on your breakup.”
“Defaulting?” He laughs. It’s such a rarity from him that
for a moment, my insides soften. But then I remember feeling
humiliated. I don’t respond.
“Listen, Caroline. I’m sorry, but it’s not what you think.
And if you give me five minutes to explain, you’ll see that I’m
not the bad guy here.”
Then why does it feel like you are?
When I’m quiet, he keeps talking. “Where are you right now?
I want to see you. You know I don’t like talking on the phone.”
“At my grandmother’s,” I admit. I walk over and open the
front door, then step outside. “Where are you parked?” I ask,
looking in the direction of my mom’s house.
“Right across from . . . Oh, I see you. Okay, I’m coming
over.”
I don’t say good-bye: I just end the call. Then, instead
of waiting on the porch like an advertisement for neediness, I
turn and walk inside, leaving the door wide open behind me.
When I hear the floorboards creak, I turn and see Joel. He
doesn’t look sorry. He just looks sort of amused.
“Nice outfit,” he says, his dark eyes sparkling. I cross my
arms over my chest in response. He nods, getting that I’m not
backing down.
“I owe you an explanation,” he says. “It’s not what you
think. Lauren was having a thing with a friend.” He pauses; I
stare. “Okay, yeah, she’s not thrilled about the breakup. She
wants to get back together.”
I grip my arms tighter.
“But we’re
not
,” Joel says quickly. I like how much he talks
when I don’t—I’ll have to stay quiet more often. “I told her
that. I told her that we’re done for good. I like someone else.”
“Joel,” I say harshly. “After Friday night at your house,
you basically ignored me at school. Maybe you’re not getting
back together with Lauren, but you aren’t exactly with me,
either. At least not in public.”
“You know why I don’t want to put things out there just
yet,” he says, raising his voice. “It’s too new, and I just ended
things with Lauren. People would—”
“What?” I snap. “What would people do? God, Joel, why
do you care anyway? Unless you’re lying about what I saw
today—unless things aren’t over with her.”
“I told you Lauren and I are done and we’re done,” he says
defensively.Then he takes a deep breath.“I don’t want to hurt her.
She’s still into me and this,” he says, waving his hand between us,
“would hurt her. I may not want to be with her, but I don’t want
to wreck her either. Surely you can understand that.”
I can, but I don’t say it. I’m so confused, and being here at
Gram’s makes me think about her, her words.
Be careful who you love, Caroline. Never let them take too
much.
Is this what she meant? Because right now, raw and
hurt, I think that maybe I am in love with Joel—but it’s nothing like I thought it would be. It’s insecurity and heartache,
disappointment tempered with the occasional high. If I don’t
stop it . . . I wonder if he’ll somehow wreck me, just the way he
says he doesn’t want to wreck Lauren.
“You have to go,” I tell Joel suddenly, trying to channel
Super-Dorothy. “I need time to think . . . and I can’t do that
with you staring at me.” I push past him and head toward
the front door. Joel walks out after me, and when he’s on the
porch, I lock up the house.
“Caroline,” he says, touching my arm. And I realize it’s
the same way he was touching Lauren’s. I brush him off and
hurry down the stairs, processing the fact that I’m dissing the
guy I’ve liked my whole life. But I need to decide whether I
believe what he said about what happened with Lauren. And
then I need to decide just how much longer I’m willing to be
his secret.