The Forbidden Heart (9 page)

I did begin to really like being with Steve, but I still couldn’t see a long relationship
with him. To his credit, he never got too emotional, never said “I love you” or even
something like “I really like you, Roxy.” Maybe he realized how little that mattered
to me. We just had a thing. In fact, I told him he made love like someone brushing
his teeth.

“What’s that mean?” he asked.

“You do it like it’s simply something that has to be done. You’re afraid of cavities.”

He thought a moment, missed the point, and shrugged. By now, he had decided not to
take anything I did or said seriously, anyway. It was as if he went in and out of
a dream when we were together. I really questioned whether he thought about me the
day after or pushed me aside for fear he might miss an important point in political
science class.

However, the night my father threw me out, I went directly to Steve’s apartment. After
I had packed, I stopped to look in on Emmie for a long moment. There was a good chance
I wouldn’t see her again for some time, maybe ever. I wondered how she would react
to that. We weren’t very close. There were just too many years between us, and my
father did his best to keep me from doing too much with her without either my mother
or him around. I could count on my fingers how many times I had taken her somewhere
in the city without one of them. I wasn’t to be trusted.

She didn’t stir. She looked like a little doll some other girl had tucked into her
bed. I thought her teddy bear was looking at me suspiciously. I touched her hair softly
so as not to wake her, whispered good-bye, and then descended the stairs. Mama came
to the door of the living room. She looked out at me standing there with my suitcase
and shook her head. She seemed unable to speak. It was hard for me, too, but I managed.

“Have a good life,” I told her, and walked out.

It was overcast and dreary, but even if it weren’t, the street never looked as dark
or as empty to me, even though there were people walking on both sides and the traffic
was heavy. I did feel a little dazed, but I wasn’t hesitant. I walked with determination
to the corner and hailed a taxi to take me to Steve’s apartment building. When he
opened the door and saw me standing there with a suitcase, he looked about as amazed
as anyone possibly could.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m here.”

“With a suitcase? For how long?”

“As long as you’ll let me stay,” I said.

His amazement changed quickly to a look of worry. “Er . . . I could get into trouble
if you were here more than a night. You are underage, Roxy. You’re not quite eighteen.
You know I know the truth.” He shook his head and put up his hands. “Look, I’m not
ready or able to do something like this,” he said. “What did you do, run away from
home?”

“Sorta,” I said.

He shook his head. “Go home, Roxy. This is a mistake that you’ll regret.”

“I guess it is,” I said. “Too bad,” I told him, and left him standing there in his
doorway looking quite relieved.

I took the elevator down, walked through the small lobby, and stepped back into the
street.

And that’s how it all began.

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Pocket Star Books

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Following the death of Virginia Andrews, the Andrews family worked with a carefully
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are
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ISBN 978-1-4767-5585-4 (ebook)