All the Little Lights
Page 24
“We don’t have school tomorrow, either. Their AC is broken, too.”
“Guess it’s goin’ around,” she said, unhappy. “You need to find someplace cool to rest. The upstairs is worse than it is down here.”
I set my glass on the sink and then walked past the thermostat in the dining room, tapping it as if that would do any good. It didn’t move, and the dust and heat were choking me, so I pushed out the front door and sat on the swing.
Occasionally a light breeze would blow through the lattice on each side of our porch, providing a momentary break from the stifling heat. I gently pushed off from the wooden slats of the porch, rocking back and forth, waiting for the sun to set, watching cars drive by, and listening to the screams of kids a few blocks down—probably the ones with an aboveground pool.
The chains creaked in a slow rhythm, and I leaned back, glancing up at the dust-covered cobwebs on the ceiling. Something touched the bare skin just above my right knee, and I yelped, sitting up.
“Sorry. I was walking by and saw you sitting here. Thought I’d stop.”
“Walking by from where?” I asked, rubbing my knee.
The girl before me frowned. “Down the street, dummy. You wanna watch a movie tonight?”
“I don’t know, Tess. We’ll see.”
Tess was seventeen like me, homeschooled, a little quirky and blunt, but I enjoyed her visits. She stopped by when she was bored or when I needed a friend. She had a sixth sense that I appreciated. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and she wore what looked like hand-me-downs from her older brother, Jacob. I’d never met him, but she talked about him so much that I felt like I had.
She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “How’s things?” She didn’t look at me when she spoke, just stared down the street toward where she lived.
“Okay. Elliott is back.”
“Oh yeah? How’s that going?”
“I’m still mad. Althea says I shouldn’t be.”
“Althea is pretty smart, but I’m going to have to disagree. I think you should stay away from him.”
I sighed. “You’re probably right.”
“I mean, all you really know about him is that he likes cameras and leaving.”
I swallowed. “He use to like me.”
Tess frowned. “How are you going to explain to Minka and Owen that you’ve decided you can have friends after all?”
I smiled at her. “I have you.”
She mirrored my expression. “Yes, you do. So you don’t need Elliott.”
I made a face. “No, I don’t. I wouldn’t chance going through that again anyway.”
“I remember. You’ve just started getting over him, and then he shows up. Pretty cruel if you ask me.” She stood. “I should go. Jacob is waiting on me.”
“Okay. See you later.” I leaned back, closing my eyes, letting another breeze flow over me. The boards in the porch creaked, and I could tell even with my eyes closed that someone had stepped in front of me. The sun was shadowed, making the dark even darker.
My eyes popped open, and I squinted. Elliott was standing over me with a large fountain drink in each hand. The Styrofoam cups were dripping with sweat, and a cherry stem was poking out from the lid, lodged under the plastic.
He held one cup in front of my face. “Cherry limeade.”
“You promised,” I said, staring at the cup.
Elliott sat beside me, sighing. “I know. But you said it yourself . . . I break promises.”
He held out the drink again, and I took it, sealing my lips over the straw. I took a sip, tasting the ice-cold, tart lime and too-sweet cherry syrup, the carbonation bubbling on my tongue.
“I’ve missed you, whether you want to believe it or not. I thought about you every day. I tried everything to get back to you. I’m sorry about your—”
“Stop talking,” I said, closing my eyes.
He waited for a while, then spoke, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “How’s your mom?”
“She deals with it in her own way.”
“Is Presley still . . . Presley?”
I chuckled and looked at him. “You’ve been at school for a whole day. What do you think?”
He nodded once. “I think yes?”
“You’ve got to stop doing that,” I said.
“What?”
“Speaking in questions. The way your tone goes up. It’s weird.”
“Since when did you stop liking weird?”
“Since my life became its definition.”
“You want me to watch my tone?” He nodded once. “Done.”
Elliott looked like he’d spent his time away living in a gym. His neck was thick, his jaw square, and the curves of his shoulders and arms defined and solid. He moved with more confidence, gazed into my eyes for too long, and smiled with the kind of charm that came with arrogance. I liked him the way he was before: gangly and awkward, soft-spoken and quietly defiant. He was humble then. Now I was looking at a boy who knew he was attractive and certain that single trait would earn him forgiveness.
My smile faded, and I faced forward. “We’re different now, Elliott. I don’t need you anymore.”
He looked down, frowning but not yet defeated. “Looks like you don’t need anyone. I noticed Minka and Owen walk by, and you didn’t even look at them.”
“So?”
“Catherine . . . I left all my friends, my football team, my mom . . . I came back.”
“I noticed.”
“For you.”
“Stop it.”
He sighed. “You can’t stay mad at me forever.”
I stood, tossing the drink at him. He caught it against his chest, but the lid popped off, and red liquid splashed his white shirt and face.
I spat out an involuntary laugh. Elliott’s eyes were closed, his mouth open, but after the initial shock, he grinned. “Okay. I deserved that.”
It wasn’t funny anymore. “You deserve a soda in the face? My dad died, Elliott. They carried out his body on a gurney while I watched, in front of the whole neighborhood. My mom mentally checked out. You were supposed to be my friend, and you just . . . left me standing there.”
“I didn’t want to.”
Tears burned my eyes. “You’re a coward.”
He stood, a head and a half taller than me. I knew he was staring at the top of my head, but I wouldn’t look at him.
“My mom came to get me. I tried to explain. She saw the ambulance and police car and freaked out. She forced me to go with her. I was fifteen at the time, Catherine, c’mon.”
I craned my neck, narrowing my eyes at him. “And since then?”
“I wanted to call, but you don’t have a phone, and then mine got taken away. I was angry about the way they made me leave. I snuck a couple of phone calls to my aunt to check on you, but she refused to go to your house. She said things had changed, that your mom wouldn’t speak to her anyway. I was caught halfway to Oak Creek a week after I got my car, and my dad put a forty-five-mile-per-hour governor on it. I tried to drive here anyway, and they took my car away. I tried talking all my friends into driving me here. I tried everything to get back to you, Catherine, I swear to God.”
“That means nothing to me. There is no god,” I grumbled.
He touched his finger to my chin and gently lifted it until my gaze met his. “The second my parents told me they were getting a divorce, I asked to come live with my aunt until it was settled. I told them I didn’t want to spend my senior year in the middle of their war, but we all knew the real reason. I needed to get back to you.”
“Guess it’s goin’ around,” she said, unhappy. “You need to find someplace cool to rest. The upstairs is worse than it is down here.”
I set my glass on the sink and then walked past the thermostat in the dining room, tapping it as if that would do any good. It didn’t move, and the dust and heat were choking me, so I pushed out the front door and sat on the swing.
Occasionally a light breeze would blow through the lattice on each side of our porch, providing a momentary break from the stifling heat. I gently pushed off from the wooden slats of the porch, rocking back and forth, waiting for the sun to set, watching cars drive by, and listening to the screams of kids a few blocks down—probably the ones with an aboveground pool.
The chains creaked in a slow rhythm, and I leaned back, glancing up at the dust-covered cobwebs on the ceiling. Something touched the bare skin just above my right knee, and I yelped, sitting up.
“Sorry. I was walking by and saw you sitting here. Thought I’d stop.”
“Walking by from where?” I asked, rubbing my knee.
The girl before me frowned. “Down the street, dummy. You wanna watch a movie tonight?”
“I don’t know, Tess. We’ll see.”
Tess was seventeen like me, homeschooled, a little quirky and blunt, but I enjoyed her visits. She stopped by when she was bored or when I needed a friend. She had a sixth sense that I appreciated. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and she wore what looked like hand-me-downs from her older brother, Jacob. I’d never met him, but she talked about him so much that I felt like I had.
She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “How’s things?” She didn’t look at me when she spoke, just stared down the street toward where she lived.
“Okay. Elliott is back.”
“Oh yeah? How’s that going?”
“I’m still mad. Althea says I shouldn’t be.”
“Althea is pretty smart, but I’m going to have to disagree. I think you should stay away from him.”
I sighed. “You’re probably right.”
“I mean, all you really know about him is that he likes cameras and leaving.”
I swallowed. “He use to like me.”
Tess frowned. “How are you going to explain to Minka and Owen that you’ve decided you can have friends after all?”
I smiled at her. “I have you.”
She mirrored my expression. “Yes, you do. So you don’t need Elliott.”
I made a face. “No, I don’t. I wouldn’t chance going through that again anyway.”
“I remember. You’ve just started getting over him, and then he shows up. Pretty cruel if you ask me.” She stood. “I should go. Jacob is waiting on me.”
“Okay. See you later.” I leaned back, closing my eyes, letting another breeze flow over me. The boards in the porch creaked, and I could tell even with my eyes closed that someone had stepped in front of me. The sun was shadowed, making the dark even darker.
My eyes popped open, and I squinted. Elliott was standing over me with a large fountain drink in each hand. The Styrofoam cups were dripping with sweat, and a cherry stem was poking out from the lid, lodged under the plastic.
He held one cup in front of my face. “Cherry limeade.”
“You promised,” I said, staring at the cup.
Elliott sat beside me, sighing. “I know. But you said it yourself . . . I break promises.”
He held out the drink again, and I took it, sealing my lips over the straw. I took a sip, tasting the ice-cold, tart lime and too-sweet cherry syrup, the carbonation bubbling on my tongue.
“I’ve missed you, whether you want to believe it or not. I thought about you every day. I tried everything to get back to you. I’m sorry about your—”
“Stop talking,” I said, closing my eyes.
He waited for a while, then spoke, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “How’s your mom?”
“She deals with it in her own way.”
“Is Presley still . . . Presley?”
I chuckled and looked at him. “You’ve been at school for a whole day. What do you think?”
He nodded once. “I think yes?”
“You’ve got to stop doing that,” I said.
“What?”
“Speaking in questions. The way your tone goes up. It’s weird.”
“Since when did you stop liking weird?”
“Since my life became its definition.”
“You want me to watch my tone?” He nodded once. “Done.”
Elliott looked like he’d spent his time away living in a gym. His neck was thick, his jaw square, and the curves of his shoulders and arms defined and solid. He moved with more confidence, gazed into my eyes for too long, and smiled with the kind of charm that came with arrogance. I liked him the way he was before: gangly and awkward, soft-spoken and quietly defiant. He was humble then. Now I was looking at a boy who knew he was attractive and certain that single trait would earn him forgiveness.
My smile faded, and I faced forward. “We’re different now, Elliott. I don’t need you anymore.”
He looked down, frowning but not yet defeated. “Looks like you don’t need anyone. I noticed Minka and Owen walk by, and you didn’t even look at them.”
“So?”
“Catherine . . . I left all my friends, my football team, my mom . . . I came back.”
“I noticed.”
“For you.”
“Stop it.”
He sighed. “You can’t stay mad at me forever.”
I stood, tossing the drink at him. He caught it against his chest, but the lid popped off, and red liquid splashed his white shirt and face.
I spat out an involuntary laugh. Elliott’s eyes were closed, his mouth open, but after the initial shock, he grinned. “Okay. I deserved that.”
It wasn’t funny anymore. “You deserve a soda in the face? My dad died, Elliott. They carried out his body on a gurney while I watched, in front of the whole neighborhood. My mom mentally checked out. You were supposed to be my friend, and you just . . . left me standing there.”
“I didn’t want to.”
Tears burned my eyes. “You’re a coward.”
He stood, a head and a half taller than me. I knew he was staring at the top of my head, but I wouldn’t look at him.
“My mom came to get me. I tried to explain. She saw the ambulance and police car and freaked out. She forced me to go with her. I was fifteen at the time, Catherine, c’mon.”
I craned my neck, narrowing my eyes at him. “And since then?”
“I wanted to call, but you don’t have a phone, and then mine got taken away. I was angry about the way they made me leave. I snuck a couple of phone calls to my aunt to check on you, but she refused to go to your house. She said things had changed, that your mom wouldn’t speak to her anyway. I was caught halfway to Oak Creek a week after I got my car, and my dad put a forty-five-mile-per-hour governor on it. I tried to drive here anyway, and they took my car away. I tried talking all my friends into driving me here. I tried everything to get back to you, Catherine, I swear to God.”
“That means nothing to me. There is no god,” I grumbled.
He touched his finger to my chin and gently lifted it until my gaze met his. “The second my parents told me they were getting a divorce, I asked to come live with my aunt until it was settled. I told them I didn’t want to spend my senior year in the middle of their war, but we all knew the real reason. I needed to get back to you.”
