Landlocked (A water witch novel) (17 page)

9

I had never ridden in a convertible. My aunt and uncle thought they were dangerous, and as we made our way through town, I couldn’t help but agree. The buildings and people whipped by without metal frame or window separating us.

“What’s the matter?” Jaron asked, stealing a quick glance at me.

“Nothing, why?”

“Really? Nothing’s wrong” he said, raising one full eyebrow up questioningly. “You are just as tight as piano wire all the time, right?”

I realized I was sitting pencil straight and my shoulders were hunched upward. I tried to shake off my anxiety and relax. “It’s just, I haven’t ever been in a convertible,” I said, trying to make it seem like I wasn’t a complete coward. “And I’m not used to the feeling of not having a nice metal frame around me.”

He pulled to the side of the road and looked over at me. “You think you need a cage for protection?”

“No, I don’t need a…” I tried to think of a way to defend the way I was feeling, but his choice of words had taken me by surprise. From an outsider perspective, I guessed the life that my aunt and uncle had provided for me resembled a… “Cage.”

“Good,” he said before leaning over to me. Sliding his hand behind my neck, he worked his fingers into my thick hair. “You need to do this every now and again,” he whispered shakily.

Adrenaline pumped through me at his touch and my scalp prickled with sensation at the attention it was getting. “Do what?” I asked, sure that I would do whatever he said.

“Let your hair down,” he said, pulling the elastic out of my hair, sending my long locks cascading over my shoulders. His eyes lit up with want as he watched. “What are you doing to me?” he asked absentmindedly, searching my face.

“I think I should ask you that question,” I said, leaning into him.

His fingers tightened around the roots of my hair, tilting my face up to him. His warm breath tickled my lips and I couldn’t wait to taste him again. Muscles flexing, he pulled me to him. A car horn blared behind us, making us both jump. I looked over my shoulder and saw Clarissa wearing an impatient face behind the wheel of her car.

“I forgot she was following us,” I said lamely.

He smiled wide. “Me too. Let’s get moving. I think I need something to keep my hands busy when I’m with you, or… they end up on you. What are you doing to me?” he asked again with a laugh.

“I’m not sure, but whatever it is I’m not going to stop.”

“I hope you don’t,” he said and peeled out, pulling back onto the road.

As we made our way onto the highway, the speed increased and blew my hair back, making me glad we didn’t have anyone in the backseat, as my hair would have been slapping them in the face. The wind filled my ears and didn’t make for easy conversation. But it wasn’t uncomfortable to be in silence with Jaron for an hour. Quite the opposite. As I got used to the feeling of the breeze in my face, I began to relish the free feeling of driving un-encompassed. It was almost as good as swimming in open water. Jaron glanced over at me every few seconds as if he was making sure I wasn’t going to disappear on him. I could almost hear his question running again and again in his mind: What are you doing to me?

The ride ended too soon and he pulled into the gas station at the edge of town, which was where I was supposed to jump into Clarissa’s car and ride the rest of the way home with her. But I was having a hard time making myself get out of the car. “I’ll see you at school, right?”

“Yes, unless you want to see me before then,” he said, biting his lip.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve noticed that you don’t have a car, so… I was thinking that I could drive you to school Monday morning, if you want me to,” Jaron said as he inspected his shoes.

I had never seen him look so bashful, and it was almost too adorable to stand. “I’d love you to, but I’ll have to clear it with my aunt and uncle first.”

Clarissa pulled in behind us, and Jaron jumped out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. Popping open the door, he took my hand and gently helped me out of the car. “Do you clear everything with your aunt and uncle?” he asked.

I pursed my lips.

“I’m not trying to tease you, just curious…”

I thought for a moment. “Well, I didn’t clear this ride, or our late night swim with them.” I paused embarrassed at the thought of talking about that with him, even though he knew every detail already.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said, pulling me against his hard body. “Your list of decision that are only yours is pretty small… mind if I add one more un-cleared moment to the list?”

I nodded and he melted into me. One of his arms wrapped around my waist and the other hand found its way to the nape of my neck. He pulled away much too soon, and my lip fell into a pout. “I could and would kiss you all day, but we do have an audience.”

My mouth fell open and I put my hands over my face. After a few seconds, I gathered the courage to glance Clarissa’s way. I was sorry I did. Her mouth was open and her eyebrows were raised in completely shock, and as mothers like to warn children, somehow her face was stuck in the horrified state. I gave an apologetic look to Jaron and started walking quickly to her car.

“Let me know if I can pick you up on Monday,” he said, waving to me.     

I cringed at the thought of having that conversation with Sylvia and pulled open the passenger side door. Jaron rounded the Mustang’s bumper and winked at me before leaping over the door and into his seat.

“Is his door broken or something?” Clarissa asked obviously annoyed.

She had at least tried to shake off some of her astonishment. “Sorry about that,” I said, looking back out the windshield as Jaron drove away.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Maribel.” She groaned. “At least not yet. Sometimes, in fact most times, relationships end in hurt. And I just don’t want to see you get your heart broken.”

“Why do you think that I’ll get my heart broken?” I asked.

She narrowed her eyes, watching Jaron’s taillights in the distance. “He’s good at hiding it and he’s good at deflection, but I haven’t learned one thing about him. Who are his parents? Does he have brothers and sister? Where is he living?” She trailed off. “I mean, do you know any of those things? Does he ever talk about himself?”

I didn’t know the answers to any of her questions, but that didn’t mean anything. “Just because he doesn’t like to talk about himself doesn’t mean he’s hiding something, Clarissa.”

“It isn’t just that he doesn’t go on and on about himself. He turns a straight question around. Like at dinner. You asked him about his twenty question’s round with Dylan, and he said he learned about you, not divulging anything about what he was asked or what he told Dylan…” she said, looking out the window again at the now far off glowing lights that looked like red eyes in the darkness. “It’s just odd.”

We drove home in silence, I wasn’t mad at Clarissa for being herself and saying exactly what she was thinking the moment she was thinking it, but I was a little annoyed that Jaron hadn’t given me anything to calm her worries. If he had told me even a few things about himself, I could have said, “Oh Clarissa you silly thing, he lives on Sixth Street with his parents and two dogs and a younger brother.” But he hadn’t. The only thing he'd really told me about himself was that I was doing something to him. I knew exactly what he meant by that, because he was doing something to me as well. Waking me up. My senses were heightened and lights seemed brighter, colors more vivid. But could he really feel the same way I did if he wouldn’t tell me about his past, or present. Any question he asked, I would answer without hesitation. My walls just didn’t know how to be up around him.

“We’re here,” Clarissa said in an unsure voice. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I was just—”

“No, I’m not upset at you. All you ever do is tell me what’s on your mind. I’m just thinking,” I said, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “It is weird that I don’t know anything about him, and I’m scared of…”

“Scared of what?”

“Well, I’m scared of the way that I feel. I’m not rational around him. I can’t look at him and think this is someone I’m just getting to know. I look at him and think, this is an old friend that I’ve been waiting for my whole life.” I sighed. “What are you supposed to do if you get too attached too soon? How can I keep myself from getting hurt if he isn’t who I think he is?”

Clarissa turned off the engine so she wasn’t idling in front of my house. “I wish I had an answer to that, but I don’t. I mean, I think you’re already in too deep to not get hurt if it turns out bad. Look at how you are around him. We just need to hope that he’s a good one, and if your taste in boyfriends matches your taste in best friends, then he’ll be a-mazing,” she said with a grin.

“True enough,” I said as I nudged her.

“Just try to be smart. I know that it’s probably a hard thing to do around a man that looks that good. Remember, it’s easier to be smart around boys if both parties have their clothes on.”

“Clarissa!” I shoved her playfully. “Have I ever had a hard time keeping my clothes on?”

“Well, no. But, and this is a big but, you never had Jaron around before.”

She did have a point, I was going to have to really try to keep my head on straight around him, I knew exactly what could have went down on the lake had Jaron not been a gentleman and pulled away. Part of me was frightened by the thought, but a new part of me relished it.

“Well, I better get inside. Let me know if I need to do anything for your debutant ball,” I said, clambering out of the car.

“Don’t forget these!” Clarissa hissed. I turned back, and she was holding up the bag containing my shoe box. “Your alibi, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” I was really, really bad at sneaking around. Thank goodness I had Clarissa around. “See you Monday.”

Clarissa drove down the long winding drive, and Dylan was at my side quicker than I thought humanly possible.

“We were starting to worry,” he said putting an arm around my shoulder.

“I’m pretty sure that you and Sylvia are always starting to worry. That’s one of your two settings, starting to worry and worry,” I said, smiling up at him.

“You’ll understand someday,” he said, guiding me up the stairs.

“What do you mean?” I asked before opening the door.

He opened his mouth to speak then paused. He looked out over the lawn with worried eyes then back to me. “Just that, you’ll have kids of your own one day and you’ll see why we worry… especially when they grow into teenagers.”

“Where’s Sylvia?” I asked, having not seen her in the living room.

“Well, she decided to cook dinner for you—”

“Oh no!” I whispered. She was hands down the worst cook ever. Cooking was the single thing that my aunt wasn’t above and beyond average at.

“No need to whisper. She’s out buying some pizza. Her creation didn’t turn out,” he said with a chuckle.

“Pizza sounds good. I’m going to go get washed up.” I walked out of the living room and stopped at the kitchen on my way to the stairs. The stainless steel pots were all hanging above the copper covered island. The stove was clear and the countertops uncluttered. This was not how a kitchen looked when Sylvia tried her hand at cooking. I sniffed the air, trying to pick up a hint of any cooking smell lingering, but there was none. Sylvia hadn’t been cooking, so why the story? If she wasn’t out of the house just to get a pizza, then why was she gone? I had lied to my aunt and uncle today with the sole purpose of riding in a car with a boy, a thing that teenage girls everywhere did every day. My uncle had lied to me about Sylvia cooking, but why? I was about to go back into the living room to ask. We had always been an open family, but I remembered what Clarissa had said about them needing some alone time. And maybe that was it. Sylvia needed to escape the cage that was our existence sometimes too.

I went upstairs to my room and started getting ready for a shower. I pulled a comb through my hair, which was tangled like crazy from the ride over, and unhooked my bracelet, not wanting to get it wet. It shimmered in the golden glow of the light fixtures. I turned it this way and that in my hand, watching the iridescent surface shine. It really was perfect, if it wasn’t for that terrible charm. I put it to my face for close inspection. The haggard thing had a flat nose and small but noticeable fangs, the eyes of the creature were too large like mine. I looked at its smooth muscular torso, which lead to its scale covered snake like tale. I searched for a way to simply unhook the charm, but didn’t find one. I’d have to see if Sylvia had a tool in her jewelry making kit to detach the retched thing. I placed it on the vanity top and hopped into the shower. In the hot water, I contemplated why Jaron, and my own uncle and aunt, were a mystery to me.