Target on Our Backs
Page 43
I jump at the unexpected voice behind me... right behind me. So damn close I can practically feel the warm breath against my neck. Swinging around, I look at Naz. "Oh, hey! What are you doing here?"
"Came to see you," he says casually before motioning down the street, in the direction Rowan jetted off to, repeating his question. "Friend of yours?"
"Rowan's my history professor, actually."
"Huh. On a first name basis with a professor, are we? And what exactly did Rowan want?"
"He was just talking to me about my paper."
I shake it in his face, showing off the fat, red A+ on top of it. Naz snatches it from my hand, eyes glossing over the paper. "You wrote down exactly what I said."
"Yep," I say, absolutely no shame.
He laughs, handing it back. "It's nice to know I've still got it."
Taking my bag off, I fold up my paper and shove it in. I try to put the bag back on then, but Naz grabs a hold of it, taking it from me.
"I can carry my own stuff, you know."
"Nonsense."
Nonsense.
That's his response.
I almost take offense to it.
Reaching over, I snatch my bag back, ignoring him as I put it on.
Nonsense, my ass.
He laughs again, reaching for me, pulling me toward him. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."
I roll my eyes at that.
I was feeling queasy earlier, and I still feel like I could sleep for a damn year straight, but at least I haven't thrown up today. Knock on wood.
"So do you have any classes this afternoon?"
"Math... English..." I eye him warily. He knows my schedule. He had it memorized before me. "Why?"
"Thought we could spend some time together this afternoon," he says, "if you weren't too busy."
I'm equal parts flattered and suspicious. I love when he wants to spend time with me, but I'm not an idiot. I know when Naz is up to something.
I have enough practice at this point to tell it.
"Never too busy for you. Do you want to grab some lunch or something? Hang out? Maybe take a walk?"
"A walk is perfect."
Yep, definitely up to something.
We don't take walks.
I motion past us, down the sidewalk, toward Washington Square Park on the corner near the school. It's as good of a place as any to walk to. Naz takes my hand, something that surprises me, even though it probably shouldn't. We're married, for Christ's sake, but still… he takes my breath away sometimes with the little things.
It's busy in the park, as it usually is at this hour, as students come and go between classes. We find an empty bench near the entrance and sit down on it. I drop my bag by my feet, kicking it to the side, away from Naz, so he doesn't get any bright ideas about trying to carry it again.
He takes care of me enough as it is.
"Have you thought about it any more?"
His question catches me off guard.
I'm not sure what he means.
"Have I thought about what?"
"About leaving New York."
"Oh." My insides twist at that. Have I thought about leaving? Sure. I think about it at least once a day, sometimes more. But have I made up my mind about whether or not I want to? Well, that's where I'm just not as sure…
Memories haunt me here. Every time I turn a corner, they're there, lingering, lurking, a reminder of everything that happened, the things he did, the things I caused. I know it's not all my fault, not at all, but I'm not blameless. Silence implies consent. I've heard that said so many times. If you don't speak up about something, you're letting it happen. Acquiescence. Living here, there's no way we can ever really have a fresh start. We're covered in permanent marker. We can't erase our black marks… not in New York.
But to actually leave means walking away from the only place I've ever thought of as home. It means leaving the people I care about, leaving my best friend, saying goodbye to Naz's father. Am I ready for that? It means leaving behind the good memories I've had here along with all of the bad. Because there's been a lot of bad, yes… but there was still so much good.
"Oh," he repeats after a moment of silence. "Should I take that as a no?"
"I don't know," I say with a sigh. "I just... is it a mistake? I don't want it to be like we're just running away from our problems, because eventually they'll catch up to us whenever we stop running, you know?"
"Yeah," he says. "I know."
"I just wish someone would give me some sort of sign so I know what the right thing to do is."
"The right thing, Karissa, is whatever you want to do. There's no wrong decision here."
I want to believe that.
But it doesn't feel that way.
"I don't know," I say. "I don't know what I want. I'm happy here, but I just wonder if maybe we'd be happier somewhere else."
He says nothing to that.
I don't know what he's thinking.
I wish he'd be the one to make this decision.
But he puts it on me, and that's a lot of pressure, because despite what he says, I fear there might be a wrong decision here.
And knowing me?
I'd be the one to make it.
"Hey! Guys!"
Melody's voice is unmistakable. By the time I look up, she's already right in front of me, dragging a flustered looking Leo along with her, her hand locked in his so tightly he nails dig into his skin. He doesn't put up a fight, but he doesn't seem very enthusiastic about it for some reason.
"Miss Carmichael," Naz says casually. "Nice to see you again."
"You, too." She gives him a brief once-over. "Stylin' and profilin' as usual, I see."
Naz glances down at himself, brow furrowed slightly, like maybe he doesn't know what the hell she means.
"Hey, Mel," I chime in, to spare him from that conversation. If he asked, she'd probably only confuse him more. "What are you guys up to?"
"Heading to grab some lunch," she says. "Oh! Why don't you join us? That would be awesome, wouldn't it?"
I start to decline, as Leo nervously rubs his neck with his free hand, but Naz interjects before anyone else can say anything. "I think that's a wonderful idea."
Uh… okay.
Not the response I was expecting, especially after the conversation we'd had about him making friends. He glances at me, raising his eyebrows, awaiting agreement. I shrug, because really, who am I to decline at this point? He's already said yes.
"Sure," I say. "Where are we going?"
Melody turns to Leo, smiling proudly, knowing she accomplished one hell of a feat getting Naz to agree. "Where to?"
He hesitates, glancing between Melody and me, his eyes never greeting Naz. "Wherever you want to eat, love."
"I know a place," Naz says, getting to his feet. He stands right in front of Leo, a mere few feet between them. He casually fixes his tie, eyes right on the boy, not once looking away. Leo still doesn't look at him, but it's obvious he notices, with the way he fidgets, pulling Melody closer, trying to look unflustered, but man… he's a mess.
"Came to see you," he says casually before motioning down the street, in the direction Rowan jetted off to, repeating his question. "Friend of yours?"
"Rowan's my history professor, actually."
"Huh. On a first name basis with a professor, are we? And what exactly did Rowan want?"
"He was just talking to me about my paper."
I shake it in his face, showing off the fat, red A+ on top of it. Naz snatches it from my hand, eyes glossing over the paper. "You wrote down exactly what I said."
"Yep," I say, absolutely no shame.
He laughs, handing it back. "It's nice to know I've still got it."
Taking my bag off, I fold up my paper and shove it in. I try to put the bag back on then, but Naz grabs a hold of it, taking it from me.
"I can carry my own stuff, you know."
"Nonsense."
Nonsense.
That's his response.
I almost take offense to it.
Reaching over, I snatch my bag back, ignoring him as I put it on.
Nonsense, my ass.
He laughs again, reaching for me, pulling me toward him. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."
I roll my eyes at that.
I was feeling queasy earlier, and I still feel like I could sleep for a damn year straight, but at least I haven't thrown up today. Knock on wood.
"So do you have any classes this afternoon?"
"Math... English..." I eye him warily. He knows my schedule. He had it memorized before me. "Why?"
"Thought we could spend some time together this afternoon," he says, "if you weren't too busy."
I'm equal parts flattered and suspicious. I love when he wants to spend time with me, but I'm not an idiot. I know when Naz is up to something.
I have enough practice at this point to tell it.
"Never too busy for you. Do you want to grab some lunch or something? Hang out? Maybe take a walk?"
"A walk is perfect."
Yep, definitely up to something.
We don't take walks.
I motion past us, down the sidewalk, toward Washington Square Park on the corner near the school. It's as good of a place as any to walk to. Naz takes my hand, something that surprises me, even though it probably shouldn't. We're married, for Christ's sake, but still… he takes my breath away sometimes with the little things.
It's busy in the park, as it usually is at this hour, as students come and go between classes. We find an empty bench near the entrance and sit down on it. I drop my bag by my feet, kicking it to the side, away from Naz, so he doesn't get any bright ideas about trying to carry it again.
He takes care of me enough as it is.
"Have you thought about it any more?"
His question catches me off guard.
I'm not sure what he means.
"Have I thought about what?"
"About leaving New York."
"Oh." My insides twist at that. Have I thought about leaving? Sure. I think about it at least once a day, sometimes more. But have I made up my mind about whether or not I want to? Well, that's where I'm just not as sure…
Memories haunt me here. Every time I turn a corner, they're there, lingering, lurking, a reminder of everything that happened, the things he did, the things I caused. I know it's not all my fault, not at all, but I'm not blameless. Silence implies consent. I've heard that said so many times. If you don't speak up about something, you're letting it happen. Acquiescence. Living here, there's no way we can ever really have a fresh start. We're covered in permanent marker. We can't erase our black marks… not in New York.
But to actually leave means walking away from the only place I've ever thought of as home. It means leaving the people I care about, leaving my best friend, saying goodbye to Naz's father. Am I ready for that? It means leaving behind the good memories I've had here along with all of the bad. Because there's been a lot of bad, yes… but there was still so much good.
"Oh," he repeats after a moment of silence. "Should I take that as a no?"
"I don't know," I say with a sigh. "I just... is it a mistake? I don't want it to be like we're just running away from our problems, because eventually they'll catch up to us whenever we stop running, you know?"
"Yeah," he says. "I know."
"I just wish someone would give me some sort of sign so I know what the right thing to do is."
"The right thing, Karissa, is whatever you want to do. There's no wrong decision here."
I want to believe that.
But it doesn't feel that way.
"I don't know," I say. "I don't know what I want. I'm happy here, but I just wonder if maybe we'd be happier somewhere else."
He says nothing to that.
I don't know what he's thinking.
I wish he'd be the one to make this decision.
But he puts it on me, and that's a lot of pressure, because despite what he says, I fear there might be a wrong decision here.
And knowing me?
I'd be the one to make it.
"Hey! Guys!"
Melody's voice is unmistakable. By the time I look up, she's already right in front of me, dragging a flustered looking Leo along with her, her hand locked in his so tightly he nails dig into his skin. He doesn't put up a fight, but he doesn't seem very enthusiastic about it for some reason.
"Miss Carmichael," Naz says casually. "Nice to see you again."
"You, too." She gives him a brief once-over. "Stylin' and profilin' as usual, I see."
Naz glances down at himself, brow furrowed slightly, like maybe he doesn't know what the hell she means.
"Hey, Mel," I chime in, to spare him from that conversation. If he asked, she'd probably only confuse him more. "What are you guys up to?"
"Heading to grab some lunch," she says. "Oh! Why don't you join us? That would be awesome, wouldn't it?"
I start to decline, as Leo nervously rubs his neck with his free hand, but Naz interjects before anyone else can say anything. "I think that's a wonderful idea."
Uh… okay.
Not the response I was expecting, especially after the conversation we'd had about him making friends. He glances at me, raising his eyebrows, awaiting agreement. I shrug, because really, who am I to decline at this point? He's already said yes.
"Sure," I say. "Where are we going?"
Melody turns to Leo, smiling proudly, knowing she accomplished one hell of a feat getting Naz to agree. "Where to?"
He hesitates, glancing between Melody and me, his eyes never greeting Naz. "Wherever you want to eat, love."
"I know a place," Naz says, getting to his feet. He stands right in front of Leo, a mere few feet between them. He casually fixes his tie, eyes right on the boy, not once looking away. Leo still doesn't look at him, but it's obvious he notices, with the way he fidgets, pulling Melody closer, trying to look unflustered, but man… he's a mess.
