On Edge (9 page)

“I know, Manu. Okay. First things first, though. I'll find out who put your character up on the wall and I'll buff it tonight.”

“Why? I kinda wanna see it.”

My enthusiasm seemed to bother him for some reason. “No, you don't.”

“I'm sure it will look cooler in person instead of on a cell.”

“LL,” he said in all seriousness, “there are only two reasons why someone would throw up a piece of you—to either make a tribute or bring you down.”

“Psh. Why would anyone wanna bring me down? Unless they're on the gymnastics team.”

“They may not be after you. They might be after your brother, and you by extension. He's made a few writer enemies out there.”

I tried not to get freaked out by what he was telling me, but the possibility couldn't be denied.

Still, if he was right, and this was an attempt to declare war, I wasn't sure I could continue on. It was better to find other reasons.

“I think you're too worried about this,” I said. “Maybe it's real simple, like someone trying to set you up, or out our relationship. The fact is, you don't know.”

“No one knows about us! The only one who saw us together is Decay, and his focus is nature. He's not as ‘all city' as he would need to be to make a piece like that. I dunno, I guess it's possible he did some talking to the crew.” He sighed and reached down, cupping the side of my face. “You're right. I don't know what's going on, but I'll figure it out and make it gone. If your brother takes issue with you over this, let me know and I'll meet with him.”

How cute! He didn't actually say “no one messes with my woman,” but I heard it anyway. And the cutest thing of all? He actually thought it was possible to talk to Warp and walk away unscathed.

Eleven

I shouldn't have been surprised that by the time I got home, Warp was waiting for me in the living room, happily livid.

I wished I would've taken Liv up on her offer to come play mediator between us again, but I was tired. Tired of tiptoeing around Warp and his bipolar behavior. If he was determined to lecture me, then I'd be equally determined to let him know where he stood.

“Emanuella! Who the hell are you involved with?”

“I'm sick of this conversation, Warp.” I tried to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm and turned me to face him. His lips were curled in a snarl, nothing like the brother I had known years ago…when we were all happy and learning to live again without my mom.

Warp was heading back to that ugly place.

“I'm sick of you not telling me shit!”

“I tell you nothing because you can handle nothing!” I squared off with him, having to look up a little to meet his enraged eyes, but I managed it. I wouldn't be bullied. “Every time Pops leaves, you get worse than usual. Like you're afraid I might suddenly turn newb and get myself hurt.”

“This spray-portrait of you is why you need to be dealt with. You're into something and you won't tell me what. You're not letting me protect you just like Mom never said anything to Pops about how fucked in the mind she was. You can't bottle up like that, Emanuella!”

“Give me a break.” I rolled my eyes. I loved my mother. I missed her very much. But Warp had a habit of using her death to berate my behavior, and I was pretty sure she'd want me to give him a verbal smackdown for it. “You always try to use Mom against me, like that will make me tell you my innermost secrets. Mom was ill. She couldn't handle her thoughts. She died because something was wrong with her head. Not because she didn't share her feelings often enough. I'm not going to sit here and let you try to guilt me into giving you a story I don't have.”

“There is a story. I ain't dumb. I told you I'd figure shit out, and you know what? I already found out the paint used on your portrait is only sold at one store. Did you know that?”

“No I didn't, Detective.”

“And guess whose crew is closest to the locale? That Haze asshole and his buddies.”

“So what?”

“I'm just saying, stay away from him.”

My instinct told me to tell Warp to mind his own business and stay out of mine but that would only ensure he stayed glued to my ass. “Does that make you feel better? Saying that? Coming at me with all of this flimsy evidence? Do you hear yourself? You found out the paint used is sold at a store that Haze's crew uses. Like no one else could Google map their way to the store, genius?”

Warp's lips pursed. “Don't push me, Emanuella.”

Don't push him? I could barely see, I was so angry. Stumbling for something potent to say, I pulled out Haze's words from earlier and used them as a weapon. “I will push you, Warp! Because someone has to. And I'd rather it be me than someone you piss off.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about you looking for trouble.” He was about to blow me off, but I was too mad to let that happen. “You ever stop to think if I get hurt, chances are, it will be your damned fault?”

He flinched and dropped his grip on my arm.

“No, I doubt you've thought about that at all.” Shaking my head, I shouldered past him. As far as I was concerned, the conversation was over.

***

“I'd offer to skip Government but you'd probably only stand me up again,” Liv said, walking to fourth hour the next day. She tried not to sound too bitter about my disappearance the day before.

Fail.

I knew it bugged her because she'd been one-word-Wanda on the walk home and to school in the morning. I hadn't realized she could be so touchy, but I guess I couldn't blame her. She'd told me her parents didn't want to be around her, and maybe she thought me ditching her for one hour meant I was no better than her parents.

My heart added an extra beat to its rhythm thinking about the reason I stood her up, but I was able to maintain normalcy and continue the conversation. “I'm sorry about that. But hey, what good is a gymnastics scholarship if scraping by is all I'm ever going to do? Study hall is important.”

Liv smirked, but dropped it. “Speaking of gymnastics, I heard that girl, Wenda, got shot in a drive-by last night.”

My face became anemic. I know because I felt every drop of blood ooze down my body and settle in my toes. “Oh my God. Are you kidding me?”

Liv looked at me as though shocked I'd ask something so stupid. “Not something I would joke about, Ellie. What does it matter? She's not dead, she's in the hospital, she's luckier than the freaks on the heart wall. A kneecapping is better than dead.”

I knew some of the dead gangbangers by reputation only, but this bit of violence concerned someone in my squad. “Shot in the knee? God, her career is over. She must be crushed. I should go check on her and send her flowers or something.”

“Screw that, Ellie. She bad-mouthed you behind your back, led the other girls into keeping secrets from you—like the meet-up with the new girls on the team, I say you sign a ‘from all of us' card and get over it. Besides, she was jealous of you before. How do you think she's gonna feel knowing that she can't compete for a long time if ever again?”

How do you tell someone you wish them well when they'd gone out of their way to make your life hell? Liv was right. Any gesture I might make would be perceived badly. “Wow. It feels kinda weird.”

“Yeah.” Liv shrugged. “I just hope your dad doesn't find out when he gets home. He'll put you on lockdown and we'll never go out again.”

***

I knocked on the door and felt the familiar warmth of his hand snake around my wrist and tug me into the closet.

After spending an entire evening fantasizing about his mouth on mine, and an entire night dreaming about it, the reality was rather mind-jumbling.

I barely had the time to draw in a breath before he kissed the sense from me, steering his mouth to the left and then to the right, searching for my response, which I was only too happy to give.

We came up for air at some point, but not until well after our lips were swollen and our hands probably numb with our death-grips on each others' clothes. I couldn't be sure, but I suspected my Imagine Dragons tee had wrinkles at the small of my back to match the ones I had ironed into his shoulders with my fists.

Whoops.

“Thanks, I needed that,” I admitted, and snuck another kiss to his chin.

He ran a finger down the bridge of my nose to the tip. “Glad I could service you.” He grinned. “Having a bad day?”

“I'm having a weird one. One of the girls on my team, Wenda, was shot in a drive-by.”

“Jesus. I'm sorry, Manu.” He leaned his head against mine.

“I'm sorry she was shot but it feels weird because we don't like each other much.”

As if he knew what I needed, he shrugged. “You didn't shoot her, and you're not wishing she were dead. It's okay to not care that she got shot.”

“I don't know if I can say I don't care. I don't know how to feel about it. I know…it sounds psychotic, but a part of me feels…responsible. I wanted to strangle her myself, I wanted bad things to happen. I…”

“Hey,” he comforted, smoothing his hand up and down my back. “You're not friends. She made you angry, wasn't very nice to you, and you wanted her to get what she deserved. That's normal! You can't blame yourself because this massive shit-hill of a city made it so. The truth is, the people in power don't wanna look down at the kids getting shot, beat up, and dying at their feet, because of this school merger. They don't wanna admit they're to blame, which they are. It's not us, Manu. It's them, and until they turn the tide of violence, shit like this is gonna keep happening. You're not to blame because you didn't like her,” he repeated. “It sucks she was hurt. Leave it at that.”

I nodded and enjoyed his comfort in silence, trying not to think of anything but what he'd said and allow it to wash my guilt away.

Of course, after twenty or so minutes, I could only handle so much of his nearness before my thoughts turned to picturing him naked.

Whoa. I blushed and decided to hide it while fidgeting with the shoulder strap of his doctor's bag. “So, planning on going out tonight? I was going to invite you to meet up with Surge and me at Tucker Park.”

“I wasn't able to go out and erase your character last night. I'm going to do it today while everyone is here at school.”

I laughed. “And how do you plan to sneak past the hall Nazis?”

“I don't have to. My parents are cool. I told them what I wanted to do and they called me out.”

Well, that was weird. My father would turn purple if I asked to skip school, and then he'd dip into his lecture on why rules and structures were important in the real world. I loved my father, but sometimes he really did try too hard. I guessed it was because he wanted more for us than what he had.

All parents say that, but only some obsess about it. Pops was a definite obsess-er. “So, you'll meet up with us tonight? Six-thirty-ish, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good, Manu.”

Apparently he didn't plan to wait the whole hour, anxious to get the deed done. His lips brushed over mine again and I was lost. Sometimes, I suspected his mouth was covered in some addictive substance. I could never get enough and right after a kiss ended, I wanted another, and another, and another.

Sadly, the make-out session was short-lived.

“Tonight then,” I said, once the thrill of his kiss died down and I could breathe. With a nod he ducked out of the closet.

Five minutes later, I was outside of Liv's Government class dancing the cha-cha until she noticed me and came out to play.

Twelve

“Maybe he ain't coming. He heard it was gonna be me, and instead of admit he was scared, he decided he would give you some lame-ass excuse tomorrow.” Surge walked across the monkey bars. When he came to the end he did a little turn, while dropping down through the small square. His hands gripped the bar at the last second, jerking his descent to a halt. He proceeded to swing from one bar to the next, the way the apparatus was intended to be used.

“I told him you'd be here, dork. He'll be here,” I said without certainty. I didn't think like Surge. I knew Haze wasn't afraid of him. But that didn't mean Haze didn't run into the law while trying to clean up some graffiti. The irony almost made it impossible
not
to have happened.

While I rested on the parallel bars, draped across them like a sheet on a couple of clotheslines, I watched as Surge effortlessly moved from one side of the monkey bars to the next before making the leap to the nearby catwalk.

The best place to learn parkour was a small arena, and playgrounds were the best, as long as you didn't make a bunch of noise that provoked the neighbors into calling the cops.

I knew that the difference between parkour and freerunning was spelling to most people, but to me, freerunning seemed a little more specific to what we actually do. If you were going from one point to another out in the world off the beaten path,
that
was freerunning. The rest of the terminology debate was lost on me. The flow and the freedom I felt while practicing was all that mattered.

“Looks like he's decided to brave the Surge,” Surge said looking off into the shadows.

I lifted my head in time to see Haze wandering up, his doctor's bag hanging between his shoulder blades.

Surge gave a little show by jumping off the catwalk onto the poles of the swing set, his legs spread and feet docked to hold himself up without effort. Showing off for the new guy. Was he trying to intimidate Haze or impress him?

“Hiya, stranger,” I smiled and let the top of my body free-fall, depending on my knees to hold me up. Using the momentum of my swing, I straightened my legs and landed on my feet, heading toward him.

I hoped I looked as impressive as Surge, but didn't have to worry much as I saw Haze's eyes take on a mix of respect and something a little more primal. He probably felt a lot like I did when I saw what he was capable of doing with a few cans of spray paint.

“Sorry I'm late,” Haze mumbled, eyeing Surge as he pulled me in for a quick hug. I'd told him Surge knew about us, but I couldn't blame him for being too cautious.

Stepping away from me, Haze held his hand out to Surge, who clasped it without hesitation.

Bonus! Good sign. I was surprised at how easily they seemed to take to each other, before I realized neither had let go of the other's hand. They kept squeezing, waiting for the other to cry uncle.

“Ugh! Really?” I stepped into their embrace, forcing them to let go. “Unbelievable.”

“Calm yourself, LL,” Surge said with a grin. “We're letting each other know where we stand.”

Haze grinned and I found myself wanting to smack the both of them.

“Must be one of those jokes where I'd need a penis to get it,” I said.

“Let's get started,” Haze said and clapped his hands together with enthusiasm. I briefly wondered if he'd be that excited after his first hospital visit.

Right before I turned away, I noticed a crack in Haze's smile and made a note to ask him about it. He arrived late and not in the best of moods. Something was up.

***

Once Haze started bleeding, we called it a night. For the last few hours Surge and I showed him the basic concepts of parkour, from ideals to moves, then we stood back and watched him jump around on all the activities of the playground without a routine. After all, improvisation and quick-thinking breed the strength of mind needed to freerun. Or so Ander often told those he taught.

But all the quick-thinking in the world can't save the inevitable face-plant or, in Haze's case, the introduction of nose to metal pole.

Cussing, he landed flat on his back, his nose trickling blood. I winced and ambled over, ignoring the snickering from Surge.

“Welcome to the fun stuff, bro. I'll let LL play nurse while I run to the store for ice and some mango smoothie goodness. Either of you two want?” Surge pointed two fingers at us while walking backwards. Haze shook his head and I nodded. “Cool.” Surge waved and scaled the playground fence.

I turned my eyes back to Haze. “You all right? Feeling woozy or anything?”

“I'll live, LL. I just haven't had a bloody nose in a while. A tournament when I was in sixth grade, I think. I forgot how much it sucks.”

“Is it broken?”

“My pride? Yup.”

I thwapped his arm. “Your nose, freak.”

He wiped his nose across his sleeve and stared up at me with a grin. Blood smear and all, he couldn't help but remain hot.

“Nah. I doubt it will even bruise noticeably. Which is good. Hard to get girls with a battered face. Might hurt when I put on my respirator, though.”

“Get girls, huh? I think you're wrong about that broken nose.”

Laughing, he sat up and pulled me by the hem of my hoodie onto his lap. “I only care about getting one girl.”

“Getting something you already got seems like overkill.”

He buried his hand in my hair and brought my mouth down to his, kissing me while laughing. I'd never been kissed that way before but there was no question I loved it. I loved everything where he was concerned. And his lips made me forget all about asking after his earlier frown. Which could mean only one thing:

I was the queen of all fools.

***

Haze waited for Surge to come back with ice and my smoothie before he gave me a quick kiss and claimed he had to go. I chewed on the inside of my lip, coming to terms with my feelings for Brennen Craig while watching him leave.

Once he was out of sight, Surge came up behind me and squeezed my arms into my chest until I involuntarily squeaked.

I laughed and sent a warning elbow into his ribs.

“Harsh, girl!”

I knew he wasn't as hurt as he pretended. Especially since he stumbled back and clutched his middle like I threw a UFC punch.

“Yeah, yeah. So what do ya think?”

Surge stood up straight, his Oscar performance interrupted by my question. He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth and then shrugged. “I don't know, LL. I just met the guy. Unlike you, holing up in some school closet for hours every day, I haven't had the time to form an opinion.”

I shook my head at him and cracked open my smoothie.

“I'm serious, baby girl! I'm not as convinced as you that he ain't the one that painted your face for all to see. Some of my cousins are the best writers in Cali, so I know a thing or two a'ight? I know that they all can tell who did what by the style. Everyone is different, like Monet is different from Van Gogh. The lines, the style…it looked a little like the clouds we saw Haze painting on the wall that day.”

“Come on.” I groaned, folding my arms across my chest. “You saw his work for like, a second. There are similar styles between some artists that would need closer inspection to see the differences. Besides, do you really think he'd ruin a chance for us to be together by making an homage to me on a noticeable wall? I mean, I don't know exactly what he feels, but I'm pretty sure he likes me enough not to cause problems for me.”

I walked over and sat down on one of the swings, drawing my hood up over my hair. The single strand of blue waved across my nose, unruly as ever, reminding me of the piece causing me so much grief. I always said the lock had a mind of its own. I kinda wanted to give it a personality all its own, too, which is why I dyed it a vivid color.

I shivered when Surge sat down on the swing next to me, but my reaction had nothing to do with him. When the sun goes down, the late September nights became downright cold.

Of course, coming out of the winter, I always thought the same temperature was tee-shirt weather.

“I didn't mean to make it sound like he don't like you, girl. I just think maybe he likes you too much.”

Surge probably took my silence as anger, but I felt fine. His suspicions about Haze meant he cared about me, so I wouldn't hold a grudge against him.

“Sounds like you think he might want to start trouble with my brother or something.”

“That ain't off my map completely,” he admitted, “but I see the way he looks at you, and that's what makes me a little concerned is all.”

“Paranoid, you mean.”

“Well, Ander will kill me if I let something happen to you. That's enough to make me a little 'noid, I'm saying.”

“Yeah, I get ya. It's all right. Keep your eye on him if it makes you feel better, Surge. I want you to be comfortable with this.” I leaned on the chain links of the swing and rested my chin on my grip so I could stare over at him. The genuine concern I saw in his face humbled me. “I'm glad you're my friend.”

“I'll remind you of that if I have to tackle your boy like a 'roided quarterback.”