Stupid Boy
Page 52
I smiled. “Harper.”
Clara nodded, patted my hand. “Thank you for letting me talk about my Sam. Can you come back some time? And feed the ducks and talk some more?”
I gave her a genuine smile. “I’d really like that, Clara.”
Her green eyes glittered. “So would I.”
Later that night, as I laid awake in bed, I thought about Sam and Clara. I wondered why she was so lonely? I decided Sam must’ve died, but what of her children? Or grandchildren? She was sweet and kind, and I couldn’t imagine having a grandmother like her. I’d spend as much time with her as I could, had I been that lucky.
But I wasn’t that lucky. I had Corinne Belle. She was not sweet. Not by far.
Clara, though, had given me hope. Maybe with a little time, things could mend between Kane and I, and we would be able to continue our…what was it? Relationship? All I knew was that I did want it to continue.
Despite my hopes, though, Kane remained silent. Day after day, night after night, I waited, but he never called. I felt like I was on auto-pilot at school, meandering around campus with my fake smile and façade. It was wearing thin on me, I could tell. Becoming harder and harder to convince others that I was some happy-go-lucky, wealthy and well-loved Texas society girl who had everything going for her. With Murphy consumed with her budding relationship with Josh, it was easier for me to keep to myself without question. Inside though, I felt antsy. Cornered. Like I had no idea where to go or what to do next.
It was a week and a half before classes let out. Despite a few disgruntled Deltas who wanted revenge on the Kappas, I’d wiped the Dare from my mind, with everything else that was going on. The foreboding trip I had ahead of me to Belle House; Kane’s attack and, most of all, his shunning of me. That hurt the worst. But I think I understood it, really. Wouldn’t I do the very same thing? I couldn’t deny the hurt, though.
I felt as though that, because I’d seen what had been done to him, his scars, it had in some way caused a riff between Kane and I. As if he somehow connected me to the scar. Of course, these were all scenarios in my mind, but I played each and every one out until the ache it left in me was almost unbearable. I missed him. Missed him more than I’d ever missed another human being in my life.
It was as if he were gone.
“Are you okay?” Murphy asked, suddenly by my side. It was Friday—a week after Kane’s accident. Had it already been that long? We’d been at the soup kitchen for the past two hours, bringing in donated canned goods. It was the last load for the holiday.
Murphy wore a Silverbacks ball cap on her head, and her lob was pulled into two pigtails that stuck straight out on each side. She peered closely at my face. “You look as if you might have a bit of the collywobbles.”
That did bring a small smile to my face. “I’m fine.” Of course I wasn’t. Luckily, Kane’s attack had been kept hush-hush. I hadn’t even told Murphy about it. She couldn’t do anything about it anyway, so why burden her?
“Well, there it is.” She grinned. “That lovely smile I’ve gotten quite used to.” She stretched. “Right! Off I go.” She elbowed me. “Unsure if I’m on the piss or on the pull, but either way,” she said, winking, “cheers.”
“Bye,” I answered, and watched her bounce toward Josh’s truck. He leaned against it, arms crossed in front of him, and when she saw him she ran and leapt straight into his arms. They kissed, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and I could only shake my head as they fell against the fender of his truck, laughing and kissing some more. Turning back to the last box of canned goods, I loaded it inside the soup kitchen, waved goodbye to the kitchen staff, and turned to head out.
Kane stopped me dead in my tracks.
Words wouldn’t come; I could only stare at his battered face, still black and blue but now turning yellow in some places on his cheekbone. Beneath his shirt I could see the bandages there, binding his broken ribs. Inside, I shook; tears burned my eyes.
“We should talk,” he said, and his eyes were already talking, already speaking loud things I didn’t want to hear.
“All right,” I answered, and simply…waited. I didn’t know what to do, where to go, what to say—
In the next second, his hand was on my jaw, his lips were against mine, and I drew in the breath he exhaled. “I’ve missed you,” he breathed, and deepened the kiss.
And I let him.
“Are you okay?” I asked, the taste of spearmint still on my tongue from Kane’s kiss.
He nodded as we walked. “Better now.” He looked at me, linked his fingers with mine. “Brax and Gracie left for the weekend.” He rounded on me, his gaze steady, clear. “Will you stay with me?” He tucked my head under his chin. “Please?”
I lifted my head and offered him my mouth, which he took, tasted slowly, and sighed against me. “I’ll meet you there in an hour.”
It was the longest hour of my life. I hurried through a shower, a change of clothes, drying my hair and make-up. My eyes roamed my closet; everything was too formal. Murphy had offered free reign of her closet so I ran to her room, found a pair of worn, faded jeans with a hole in the knee, a navy ribbed tank, and a solid red long-sleeved shirt that had snaps for buttons. Grabbing them all I ran back to my room, and by the time I’d slipped each garment on, I was in love.
How had I not worn jeans my entire life?
I looked at my footwear; no go. Nothing went with the extreme casual dress-down I had on. Running back to Murphy’s I found her black Uggs—I didn’t think she’d kill me—slipped them on and again. Fell. In. Love.
Clara nodded, patted my hand. “Thank you for letting me talk about my Sam. Can you come back some time? And feed the ducks and talk some more?”
I gave her a genuine smile. “I’d really like that, Clara.”
Her green eyes glittered. “So would I.”
Later that night, as I laid awake in bed, I thought about Sam and Clara. I wondered why she was so lonely? I decided Sam must’ve died, but what of her children? Or grandchildren? She was sweet and kind, and I couldn’t imagine having a grandmother like her. I’d spend as much time with her as I could, had I been that lucky.
But I wasn’t that lucky. I had Corinne Belle. She was not sweet. Not by far.
Clara, though, had given me hope. Maybe with a little time, things could mend between Kane and I, and we would be able to continue our…what was it? Relationship? All I knew was that I did want it to continue.
Despite my hopes, though, Kane remained silent. Day after day, night after night, I waited, but he never called. I felt like I was on auto-pilot at school, meandering around campus with my fake smile and façade. It was wearing thin on me, I could tell. Becoming harder and harder to convince others that I was some happy-go-lucky, wealthy and well-loved Texas society girl who had everything going for her. With Murphy consumed with her budding relationship with Josh, it was easier for me to keep to myself without question. Inside though, I felt antsy. Cornered. Like I had no idea where to go or what to do next.
It was a week and a half before classes let out. Despite a few disgruntled Deltas who wanted revenge on the Kappas, I’d wiped the Dare from my mind, with everything else that was going on. The foreboding trip I had ahead of me to Belle House; Kane’s attack and, most of all, his shunning of me. That hurt the worst. But I think I understood it, really. Wouldn’t I do the very same thing? I couldn’t deny the hurt, though.
I felt as though that, because I’d seen what had been done to him, his scars, it had in some way caused a riff between Kane and I. As if he somehow connected me to the scar. Of course, these were all scenarios in my mind, but I played each and every one out until the ache it left in me was almost unbearable. I missed him. Missed him more than I’d ever missed another human being in my life.
It was as if he were gone.
“Are you okay?” Murphy asked, suddenly by my side. It was Friday—a week after Kane’s accident. Had it already been that long? We’d been at the soup kitchen for the past two hours, bringing in donated canned goods. It was the last load for the holiday.
Murphy wore a Silverbacks ball cap on her head, and her lob was pulled into two pigtails that stuck straight out on each side. She peered closely at my face. “You look as if you might have a bit of the collywobbles.”
That did bring a small smile to my face. “I’m fine.” Of course I wasn’t. Luckily, Kane’s attack had been kept hush-hush. I hadn’t even told Murphy about it. She couldn’t do anything about it anyway, so why burden her?
“Well, there it is.” She grinned. “That lovely smile I’ve gotten quite used to.” She stretched. “Right! Off I go.” She elbowed me. “Unsure if I’m on the piss or on the pull, but either way,” she said, winking, “cheers.”
“Bye,” I answered, and watched her bounce toward Josh’s truck. He leaned against it, arms crossed in front of him, and when she saw him she ran and leapt straight into his arms. They kissed, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and I could only shake my head as they fell against the fender of his truck, laughing and kissing some more. Turning back to the last box of canned goods, I loaded it inside the soup kitchen, waved goodbye to the kitchen staff, and turned to head out.
Kane stopped me dead in my tracks.
Words wouldn’t come; I could only stare at his battered face, still black and blue but now turning yellow in some places on his cheekbone. Beneath his shirt I could see the bandages there, binding his broken ribs. Inside, I shook; tears burned my eyes.
“We should talk,” he said, and his eyes were already talking, already speaking loud things I didn’t want to hear.
“All right,” I answered, and simply…waited. I didn’t know what to do, where to go, what to say—
In the next second, his hand was on my jaw, his lips were against mine, and I drew in the breath he exhaled. “I’ve missed you,” he breathed, and deepened the kiss.
And I let him.
“Are you okay?” I asked, the taste of spearmint still on my tongue from Kane’s kiss.
He nodded as we walked. “Better now.” He looked at me, linked his fingers with mine. “Brax and Gracie left for the weekend.” He rounded on me, his gaze steady, clear. “Will you stay with me?” He tucked my head under his chin. “Please?”
I lifted my head and offered him my mouth, which he took, tasted slowly, and sighed against me. “I’ll meet you there in an hour.”
It was the longest hour of my life. I hurried through a shower, a change of clothes, drying my hair and make-up. My eyes roamed my closet; everything was too formal. Murphy had offered free reign of her closet so I ran to her room, found a pair of worn, faded jeans with a hole in the knee, a navy ribbed tank, and a solid red long-sleeved shirt that had snaps for buttons. Grabbing them all I ran back to my room, and by the time I’d slipped each garment on, I was in love.
How had I not worn jeans my entire life?
I looked at my footwear; no go. Nothing went with the extreme casual dress-down I had on. Running back to Murphy’s I found her black Uggs—I didn’t think she’d kill me—slipped them on and again. Fell. In. Love.
