Wraith (17 page)

I
MANAGED TO SURVIVE
a very awkward and quiet family dinner before I escaped to my room. My parents, not in the mood to be around me either, suggested I go
right up and start my homework—they’d do the dishes alone. My father turned on the radio, which is essentially code in our house for, ‘we want to talk about Jane, but don’t want her to hear’. I had no interest in what they had to say under the loud music either, so I ran as fast as I could up to my room and closed the door tight behind me.
If I could, I’d possibly stay in here forever.

The instant the door clicked, I heard my name and turned to see Evan in the corner. I walked past him and dropped my stuff on the desk.

“Hey.”

He didn’t reply I glanced at him and saw the anger and hurt visible on his face. I could handle my mom being upset and even Connor, but not this. Not Evan.

“I’m sorry.” I pressed my fingers into my eyes, trying to keep the tears back. I needed to stop crying. I was such a girl.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why’d you do it? I told you he was dangerous.” His voice was clipped and angry.

I sighed and sat in the desk chair. “Because this isn’t right, Evan. You, me…this can’t go on forever. I thought maybe if I found your mom and told you she was okay or helped her or something you could move on.”

We sat in heavy silence. The tension grew between us as time passed. If he wasn’t going to change his position on this, I had nothing else to say. Picking up my book, I flipped it open to my assignment.

Three passages into the Korean War, he broke the silence. “Did you see her?”

“I did.”

“How did she look?” His concern was palpable. “Was she okay?”

“I guess, I mean, nothing was wrong that I could see. He wouldn’t let me talk to her.” I suppressed a shiver at the thought of him. “I tried.”

Something flashed behind Evan’s eyes and he muttered under his breath so low I couldn’t make out the words. “Were the girls there?”

I shook my head. “Not that I could see. But it was a school day.”

“Good. I’m glad they’re still in school. Things can’t be that bad if he’s letting them go.”

He didn’t sound convinced.

I swallowed and tapped my pen on the desk. “Thanks for sending Connor after me.”

He looked surprised. “He told you?”

“Yeah, after I asked how he found me.”

“He’s a good guy, Jane,” he said.

“I know.”

“Can you tell me about him? John? I’ve never met someone so scary before.”

“Okay,”
 
he said, brushing the hair away from his eyes.

Evan sat down on the floor beneath my chair. He crossed his legs and I could see the frayed edges of his jeans, worn down from use in his past life and the smooth soles of his sneakers. “My dad wasn’t a great guy. He pretty much abandoned us, but my memories of him aren’t bad. He just wasn’t cut out to be a dad, I guess. Three kids and a wife weren’t in his plan. My mother didn’t make the best choice in men, but John,” he said, fingering the peeling leather of his shoes, “he was awful.”

He stopped, gaining courage, I suspected, to continue. He grasped my foot and messed with the laces of my shoe, tying and untying them with precision. It was a difficult task for him. When he was ready he said, “He always made me feel uneasy. It was like there was an unspoken competition between us, like he was challenging me for my mother’s affections. I always knew she loved me and my sisters—that was never the issue. The problem was more how she saw herself. She just seemed to feel like she didn’t deserve better, when really, she did.”

I wanted to touch him and make him feel better, but I couldn’t. Our weird, confusing, double standard of contact was annoying, but there was nothing I could do.

“The last time he beat her…it was horrible,” he said, dropping his head even lower. “I took the girls to their room and we turned up their little kid music and read books. We pretended like we couldn’t hear the noises from the other room. I never, ever want to hear something like that again.”

“What happened? What did you do then?” I asked, feeling horrible for even assuming he should or could do something.

He shrugged. “She was alive, but he crossed a line that time. She had bruises everywhere, all over her face and neck. Later, when he was done, I heard him leave.” Evan looked at me, worry lines around his young eyes. “His truck was always so loud, we could actually hear him blocks away. When I came out and found her, she was just in this heap on the floor. Her lip was cut and swelling. The skin around her eyes…” He winced. “She had horrible bruises for weeks. I wanted to take her to the hospital, she could barely stand, but she just wanted to go to bed.”
 

He tied my shoe in a tight knot. “I didn’t see her the next morning. I was so scared but hoped she was okay and asleep or something. There was no way she could go to work. John never came home that night. His truck was gone when we got up the next day. I got the girls to school and halfway through the school day a social worker showed up and took us to her office downtown. This woman kept saying everything was fine and that we would see our mother soon. And we did. Later that day we met up at the shelter.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“Jane,” he said, looking up, “I know I keep telling you this, but it’s not sinking in. John is the most dangerous person you or I have ever met. He is calculating and cold. He hurt her in ways people couldn’t see. But that time he lost it. Completely and totally lost it. He doesn’t care about the police—he ended up coming after us anyway.

“Maybe we can call the police? Or the social worker? What about Ms. Crawford?” I tried.

“No,” he said, sounding older than his years. “You don’t get it. If he thinks you know something or have something on him, he won’t stop until it’s resolved. You need to drop this.”

My stomach churned at the thought. “Okay.”

“Don’t go back there again. Promise me.”

“I won’t.”

The tension from earlier dissipated between us and I went back to my homework,
pretending everything was okay. It wasn’t, but
we spoke a little about the day and school—he even asked me about Connor and our upcoming ‘date’. We avoided the more loaded topics.

Later, I climbed into bed, turning off the lamp and rolled onto my side, settling into the darkness.
Before I drifted off, his hand covered mine. It was cold and smooth.

Out of the dark he asked, “Do you really want me to leave?”

I opened my eyes, but was unable to see anything. “You know that’s not what I want. Not the way you mean it.”

He squeezed my hand. “Later,” he called, the coolness of his presence shifting away from me.

“Later.”

“S
O, I HAVE SOME
changes in our plans for this weekend,” Ava said, sliding into the seat next to me at our lunch table.

I spoke around a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Yeah?”

Ava unloaded her lunch bag, methodically organizing her food in front of her. Julia and I shared an amused look. We found this compulsive side of our friend endearing. “The shelter called and they would rather us come on Sunday instead.” She sounded a little defeated. I understood. Without an excuse there was no reason for our double date.

“Okay, what time on Sunday?” I secretly hoped Connor wouldn’t be able to go. I knew I’d promised to keep him in the loop, but I was uncomfortable taking him there for ulterior motives.

“About noon,” she said, opening her yogurt and rummaging in the lunch bag for a spoon.

“Okay.”

We sat together, amid the buzzing crowds in the cafeteria like we did every day. Julia’s nose was in her phone while I worked peanut butter off the roof of my mouth. Ava had a notebook out and read while licking pink yogurt off her spoon.

“What do you think we should do about Saturday?” she asked, looking up from the paper. She said it nonchalantly but I knew better. “You and Connor, you’re going out anyway, right?” Julia put down her phone, a sudden interest in the conversation.

Not really
, I wanted to say, but how did I explain that? I couldn’t. Not now. But Ava had a date with Christian on the line, and I knew she was looking forward to it.

“Let me text Connor and see what he says,” I offered.

I tapped out a message:

Shelter meeting mov’d til Sun.

Thoughts 4 Sat?

I glanced over at his table, where he was surrounded by friends. Allison was there, hovering as usual, and inserting herself in the middle of their group. I fought the coil of jealousy in the pit of my stomach.

From my seat I could see him pull out his phone and check my message—his eyes flicked to mine. His thumbs moved across the keys and in an instant my phone vibrated.

Still on-Pick u up at 5.

I stole another look at him. His lips curved in a smirk, but he kept his eyes on his friends and away from my table. It was his way of giving me space.

And then it hit me. I didn’t want space today. I wanted him.

K

I didn’t even have time to put my phone down before it buzzed again.

wanna ride home?

I bit my lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

Yes

Again, I caught his eye but turned away before I embarrassed myself further.

“What did he say?” Ava asked and I relayed the text. A giddy grin appeared on her face and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, what’s going on with you two?” Julia asked, putting her phone on the table. That was a first.

“I don’t know,” I said, somewhat truthfully. “We’ve been hanging out a little. The other day we went to the museum after school.”

“I’ve never seen you talk at school, though. What’s with that?”

Ava leaned her elbows on the table. “They do, too. I have class with them and they talk a lot.” ‘A lot’ was a bit of a stretch, but I appreciated her support. “Just because they don’t mark their territory in the hallway every day doesn’t mean nothing’s going on between them.”

I coughed, almost choking on a pretzel. Thankfully though, this seemed to appease Julia, and she and Ava launched into a full discussion of clothing and hair choices for Saturday. I listened with little interest until they focused on my wardrobe.

“You should wear your hair down, Jane,” Julia said, reaching across the table to tug on my ever-present ponytail.

“You think?” I asked. Ever since it had grown out I wore it back, proud that it was long enough. I fingered the ends and thought about it.

Ava swallowed a gulp of water. “And wear those dark jeans. Those look great on you.”

“Yep,” Julia said. “They make your ass look amazing.”

“What?” I touched my butt. My butt could be described many ways; big, round, curvy, hippy…but not amazing.

“It’s true,” Ava said.

Note to self: Wear Awesomeing Butt Jeans.

The girls continued around me and I couldn't help but forget for a moment all the bad stuff from earlier in the week. Evan's mom and her creepy boyfriend. Connor's anger. It was a bright spot in the middle of a dreary week and I planned to bask in it.

B
Y THE TIME CONNOR
was supposed to pick me up for our date, I’d managed to work myself into quite the typical girl frenzy. I was working at my parents’ shop, wishing the time would go by faster, but instead it just dragged.

I’d dressed before my shift, yet found myself in the bathroom adjusting the shirt and sweater I had chosen. More than once I cursed myself for not bringing an alternative. The truth was, it was a good thing I was at work and not home because I would have changed a dozen times by now. Insecurities kept flooding my mind. My nose was too small, my hips too wide (despite butt-awesomeing jeans), my voice too loud. I was flooded by nerves and so many ridiculous thoughts that I almost called and backed out of this stupid date. Ava would kill me and Connor would have shown up anyway. I had a feeling no one ever told him ‘no.’

As I dusted and rearranged the pottery near a large, over-sized antique mirror, I caught myself checking my reflection more than once. I had redone my hair so many times that my father asked if I had a problem.

Oh, I had a problem all right.

My problem was that at any minute my not-boyfriend was coming to pick me up for some kind of quasi double date and I was freaking out. I’d been on dates before. Grace’s boyfriend Drew set me up more than once with his friends so we could all go places together, but I never cared for them like I did for Connor. Not at all. 

The door opened and my heart seized. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, but when I looked over, two women browsed near the front of the store.

“Get it together, moron,” I said to myself.

My dad walked out of the back room. “What’s that, honey?”

“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

He stepped over to the counter top and shuffled through some papers. “When’s your date getting here?”

Oh.
God.
“Not a date, Dad.” Just a friend. Just. A. Friend.

Iwantedhimtobemorethanafriend.

He chuckled to himself, causing my defenses to flare, but I knew better than to get into it with him. I was just happy they were letting me go out after getting caught the other afternoon. I started to change the topic when I saw his eyes focus behind me and I turned to see Connor standing a foot away.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” I said, trying not to notice how fantastic he looked. And calm. He looked calm. He always looked calm.

“Hi,” he said again and I ducked my head to hide the goofy grin on my face. Could we be any lamer?

My dad cleared his throat. “I’m Mr. Watts, you must be Connor.”

Connor stepped around me and I watched as he offered his hand to my father. How horrible to be a boy and go through this...this assessment. Connor hadn’t shaved, but I could see that the back of his hair was still damp from showering. I could smell the soap. I wondered if my father noticed these things. Probably not.

“Yes sir,” he said while pumping hands. “Nice to meet you.”

Well, who knew? Connor Jacobs had manners.

My dad released his hand, pleased.

“Where are you going tonight?” Dad asked, looking between the two of us.

“We’re meeting Ava and Connor’s friend Christian at the Thai place, remember?” I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. Getting hostile wouldn’t help anyone. I did impatiently begin shuffling my feet in the direction of the door, hoping everyone would take the hint.

“Okay, then. Midnight?” he prompted.

I rolled my eyes and began to protest, but Connor stepped in. “No problem, sir,” he said, those inexplicable manners peeking out from under his typical air of smug overconfidence and bad boy charm. He lifted his chin in my direction and asked, “Ready?”

“Yeah, let me get my stuff.” I moved behind the counter and took my bag off the hook underneath and grabbed my coat.

On the way out of the store I stopped and gave my dad a quick hug so he would know I wasn’t too annoyed. The minute we got outside I said, “Who taught you such fine manners?” I bumped him with my elbow.

He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. “My mother, of course. I was raised in the South. It’s in the water. Like sweet tea or grits.”

I hummed. “I suppose it’s true.” There were still certain expectations for a well-raised boy, at least in front of adults.

He led me to his car, taking long strides ahead to open the passenger door for me. I paused before climbing in, pushing my back against the metal frame. “Aren’t you pushing this a little, with the door and everything?”

He shrugged. “No. It’s what I always do when I take a girl on a
date
.” He emphasized the word.

I tried not to show any emotion to his declaration. I swallowed. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, resting his arms over the top of the door.

“So what else should I expect?” I asked trying to be brave, yet feeling overwhelmed from his closeness and his words.

His eyes narrowed in thought, but then without warning he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. His lips moved gently and his mouth was warm and soft. He tasted like mint toothpaste and smelled like detergent and it was nice. Really, really nice.

He pulled away and smiled, slow and lazy. “What was that?” I asked, trying to retain some composure despite the fact that it was impossible.

“You asked what to expect. I was definitely going to do that tonight.”

Speechless at his unwavering confidence, I just turned and sat in the car. I used the time between Connor shutting the door and closing his own to catch my breath and will the redness from my face.

He cranked the car and he fiddled with the radio, eventually stopping on an acceptable station. Without facing me, he asked, “Was that okay?”

Was he crazy? “Yeah.” 

That same slow grin crept across his mouth, and I could feel one on my own. I pretended to act nonchalant when he passed over the gearshift, and I allowed him to lace his fingers with mine.

He looked over and said, “I’ve been wanting to do that since New Year’s Eve.”

Me too, I thought, but I wasn’t brave enough to say it. “Took you long enough.”

He rubbed his thumb across the outside of my hand. “Oh yeah. I’ve regretted it every day since.” He moved his hand to shift gears but immediately came back. “Drunk and stupid. I’m glad you gave me another chance.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m not really sure I had a choice.” 

With his eyes forward and his hand wrapped in mine he said, “Me either.”