Just Me (13 page)

“
I thought the party was the present.”

“
Only part of the present,” I said.

“
You didn't have to get me anything, Lark.”

“
I know.” Resting against the back wall was a large rectangular parcel wrapped in brown paper. Retrieving it, I offered it to him. “Happy birthday.”

“
You really didn't need to do this.”

“
I know, but you must admit it's fun to have something to open.”

He grinned. “Ab so-fuckin'-lutely.”

He unwrapped the package to reveal my painting, Mainstream, which I had had framed. He stared at it for so long I worried that maybe I had been wrong about his reaction to the painting that day in the art room. I tried to explain the reasoning behind the gift.

“
I thought it could be another visual reminder for you to hold fast to your dreams.”

He moved so fast, lifting from his chair and pulling me into his arms. He buried his face in my hair.

He didn't say anything at first, seemingly lost in his thoughts, but then his head lifted and our gazes lock. The rawness of his voice spoke to the emotions burning through him. “I've never been given anything so incredible.”

“
It fits you,” I said.

He touched a lock of my hair and a grin tugged at his mouth, “A little bird told me your birthday is coming up. November 7th, right?”

“
Yes.”

“
Good to know.”

“
You don't have to do anything. Hanging with you and the gang is enough for me.”

“
I'll take that under advisement.”

“
Why do I get the sense that you are already plotting?”

He framed my face with his hands, “Because you know me so well. Thank you for tonight and for your painting. I really do love it.”

“
Happy birthday.”

He responded by kissing me.

***

The smell of oatmeal raisin cookies drew me into the kitchen to find Deena and Carol making a huge mess. Lucky for me, they were just pulling a tray from the oven. I adored their oatmeal raisin cookies.

Carol saw me first and smiled in greeting. “Hey, Lark. You're just in time.”

“
What's the occasion?” I asked while settling on a stool at the kitchen island.

“
Cheerleading social,” Deena said.

“
Where's Aunt Kim?”

“
My uniform's a little too big, so she's taking it in for me.”

Not sure why that hurt, but it did. “Oh.”

“
There's plenty of cookies, do you want some?”

“
Please.”

As I was reaching for a cookie, Carol asked, “Is that boy who picks you up in the morning your boyfriend?”

My face grew warm at the joy of sharing such a girl moment with my cousins. “Yes, he's my boyfriend.”

“
Oh, Lark. He's so beautiful,” Deena said dreamily. “What's his name?”

“
Bastian.”

“
And he drives a motorcycle, that's so sexy.” Carol climbed onto the stool next to me and added, “Are those tattoos on his arms real?”

“
Yes.”

“
Wow, I bet that hurt.” Deena took a bite from her cookie. “What's he like?”

“
He plays soccer and likes to work on cars. He's smart and funny. Kind, like down-to-the-bone kind.” A glance at the girls made it clear they wanted more. “He makes my knees weak and my heart pound. When he kisses me, I never want him to stop.”

“
Oh, man.” Deena sounded dangerously close to whining. “You're in love with him.”

“
I really am.”

“
And him?” Carol asked.

“
Fell just as hard.”

“
You're so lucky,” they said in unison and Carol added, “I wish I had a boy like that. Mom would never approve.”

An icy chill worked down my spine and I glanced behind me to see Aunt Kim standing in the doorway. She clutched Deena's uniform so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

“
Lark, you must have homework to do. Go do it. Girls, let's clean this up so we can start dinner.”

My attention turned back to the girls, “Thanks for the cookie. Those are my fave.”

“
Anytime, Lark,” Carol said, but I was already halfway out of the room.

The look my aunt gave me as I passed had the hair on my arms standing on end. Not sure what it was I did this time, but I felt her glare until I was out of sight.

The following weekend I helped Bastian move into his apartment. His landlord had been reluctant at first to rent to a teenager—feared the noise and potential trouble Bastian may cause in their quiet building. His attitude shifted though when Bastian handed him the first and last months’ rent plus security deposit in cash. It was unclear if the landlord's change of heart was due to learning Bastian held a job that paid enough for him to afford the apartment, or if it was just that the payment was in cash. Having a trust fund certainly came in handy.

His new place was both close to school and the garage where he worked. The second floor, two-bedroom-one-bath unit seemed really cozy. He even had a fireplace and I couldn't wait for winter to curl up with him in front of it. A pang of sadness shot through me that his parents couldn't see the gift that they had in him. Never knowing my dad and losing my mom when I was so young, to see parents willingly and intentionally neglecting their child was both inconceivable and heartbreaking. Today was a good day for him, so I turned my thoughts to pleasant ones.

He had ordered a sofa, a bed and a television, so the day we were unpacking his boxes, the delivery trucks came one after another. Once we had most of his stuff unpacked, he ordered a pizza. After we ate, we relaxed on his new sofa.

“
There's one more thing I want to do,” he said rather cryptically before he moved from the sofa and disappeared into the second bedroom. He came back into the living room holding my painting, a hammer and a picture hook. “I want to put it on that wall so I can see it when I'm sitting here.”

I was overwhelmed at the sight of him doing something so commonplace. He wasn't just hanging my painting. He was moving me into his apartment too. He confirmed this when he said, “You're turning eighteen. The door's open any time you want to move in.”

My blood actually sizzled in my veins just thinking about moving in with him and where that would lead. The most wickedly sexy look flashed over Bastian's face. Clearly he was thinking the same thing. “I absolutely want you in my bed but until you're ready, there is a second bedroom.”

I had to keep myself from agreeing immediately. I wanted my life as entwined with his as possible, but there was a part of me that held back because of Dominic's warning.

“
I want to…but I'm just not there yet.”

“
There's no rush, I'm not going anywhere.”

And even as I smiled in reply, I couldn't help the feeling of foreboding that slithered along my skin.

***

The weeks that followed Bastian's move flew by, and before long Halloween had arrived. The school was hosting its annual parade and dance.

Though I had attended these dances every year, I never dressed up for them. This year, my last year, I broke from tradition, but I was keeping my costume a secret. Bastian, learning that I wasn't going to share, decided he wasn't going to share either. Poppy and Sophia tried in vain to guess my costume as we sat in the lunchroom.

“
A blue crayon.”

I looked at Sophia like she had horns popping out of the top of her head. “What am I, two?”

“
A taco,” Poppy said.

“
I don't even like tacos.”

Bastian's long legs stretched out in front of him as he listened, a grin tugging at his mouth.

“
Black Widow from the Avengers?” Sophia guessed.

“
I could definitely get behind that costume,” Bastian said; my eye roll at him was instinctual.

“
You aren't going as something dorky like a water molecule or DNA are you?”

“
Sophia, where are you getting these ideas?” Poppy asked.

“
They were some of the ideas I had and rejected.”

Chuckling at Sophia's confession, I said, “You'll see it tomorrow night.” I was excited about my costume. The meaning of it would be lost on everyone but Bastian.

The look on Bastian’s face made my stomach flip flop. “And I'm really looking forward to that,” he said.

***

The night of the dance, I had the pleasant surprise of Deena and Carol appearing in my door eager and smiling.

“
Can we help you get ready?”

Despite my aunt's behavior toward me, the girls had always been kind, if a bit distant, but since my uncle vowed that things would be different, the girls were also making an effort. Knowing this, it was still unexpected, but welcomed, when they did. “I'd really like that.”

“
Are you a mermaid?” Carol asked, while she fingered the light fabric of my costume from its spot hanging on my closet door.

“
A siren.”

“
Like the ones who lure men to their deaths out at sea?” Deena asked.

“
Yeah.”

The girls didn't get it, but Bastian would. My costume was a turquoise halter dress fitted in the mermaid fashion and even flared a bit at the bottom. I found a pair of jeweled sandals from the local Goodwill to wear with it. I wanted to curl my hair and tuck a few silk flowers into it, but I was struggling with the curling iron.

“
Let me do that.” Deena took it from me and with the practiced moves of someone far more acquainted than me with the activity, expertly got to work on my hair.

“
Turn to your side so I can work on your makeup.” I noticed the frown when Carol saw my unimpressive collection of makeup. I didn't generally wear it, so I didn't see the need to dip into my savings to buy it. “You've got no foundation or liner. Lark, you don't even have lipstick. I'll be right back.”

With the seriousness of her expression when she left the room, you'd think we were discussing food shortages in third world countries.

“
Do you have any preference for where these flowers go?”

My eyes found Deena's in the mirror. “No, whatever you think works.”

“
Cool.” She looked almost nervous when she added, “This is fun. We should do this more often.”

The feeling of belonging turned my voice a bit hoarse. “I'd really like that.”

My uncle had offered to drive me to the dance, but he was running late. The girls were now doing homework after having spent an hour helping me get ready. It was nice bonding with them, but it also had me reflecting on the kind of relationship my mom and aunt had shared. Had they been close? Did they paint each other's nails and gossip about boys, and if so, why hadn't my aunt noticed the change in my mom? Why hadn't she tried to understand the cause?

Grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter, I was just taking a bite when my aunt walked in. The expression on her face was so similar to the one Jennifer Ross had given Bastian on the night of his birthday dinner that I had absolutely no problem understanding what was going on in her head.

“
That's a bit revealing for a school function, don't you think?”

Self-consciously, I glanced down at myself. “No.”

“
Once you're labeled a slut, it sticks.”

The apple piece I had been chewing on went down the wrong pipe, and as I coughed to get it out, she stayed rooted to the spot just across the kitchen from me. My throat felt raw by the time I was able to breathe again.

“
Are you sleeping with that boy? You must realize that boys don't take girls like you seriously.”

Rage and hurt warred inside me. “And what kind of girl am I?”

She gestured with her hand, “Pretty on the outside and shallow on the inside. You're the girl they play with, not the one they marry; my girls, on the other hand, are prizes. You keep that boy away from them because once he's had his fill of you, he'll set his sights on them. He's nowhere near good enough for them.”

And it was comments like this that drew into question her sanity. Was she serious? The idea that Bastian was only using me, or that he would move from me to the girls, who were so much younger than us, was so ridiculous I couldn't bring myself to be angry about that comment. However, I did object to her opinion of me. “I'm not shallow.”

“
That's what your mom said too, and look how that turned out.”

I slapped her hard across the face. Really, I didn’t, but the image in my head was so life-like, it was oddly satisfying, watching her head snap back from the blow. I didn't know if I was more angry at the idea that she could sound so blasé about her sister, or because she compared me to my train-wreck of a mother.

How words passed my lips when I choked on rage was a mystery. “Don't worry, I'll keep Bastian away from the girls.”

Fueled by my anger, I turned, grabbed my coat from the hook, and walked right out the back door. It was cold, but I was so angry I hardly noticed. My feet carried me back and forth across the driveway as my temper stewed. I had half a mind to walk back into the house and slap her for real, but it would only land me in trouble. My uncle pulled up ten minutes later.