Ask Me (13 page)

“Don’t trouble yourself with your mother,” Gran murmured. “You have me. I’ll help you, Aria. I promise. I’ll share everything I know. We’ll do this together.”

My eyes moistened, but I smiled. Funny, Will had said the exact same thing. All of a sudden, there were people I could trust. Stranger still, they’d been there all along.

Gran and Granddad tried to talk me into helping out with the stand again on Sunday, but I refused. I told them I had homework, but mostly I wanted to be alone to think. Plus, Jade’s service was later in the afternoon. I wasn’t entirely sure whether I wanted to go or not, but I felt like I should.

Once they finally left, I turned on some music to fit my mood. It was a playlist with Death Cab for Cutie and Radiohead with some old school Thelonious Monk. If Granddad had been home, he would have laughed at me and put on “something you could tap your feet to.” But I wasn’t in the mood for laughter, either with me or
at
me. I picked up
Hamlet
and started reading on to the next act. Tragedy was something I could relate to.

I had just reached the scene where Hamlet learns Ophelia is dead when there was a sharp knock at the door. I jumped and dropped my book. Was it Will? He hadn’t said anything about coming over, but I couldn’t imagine
who else it could be. No one ever came to visit us. I ran to the door and made myself stop before I got there long enough to pat my hair down. I took a deep breath and steadied myself. I was probably being stupid. Watch it be some Jehovah’s Witness or something, way off the beaten path.

I looked through the peephole. It was Alex.

He definitely didn’t have any religious tracts in hand. He must have run. I hadn’t heard his huge old Chevy, and his dark curly hair was damp with sweat. What was he doing here? I hesitated for a moment, but he’d probably heard my book fall to the floor. I couldn’t hide now.

He knocked again, louder this time, and I jumped. I opened the door and stood in the doorway. He didn’t need to see into our tiny little living room.

“Aria,” he said at the same time I said, “Alex.”

It was my house, so I cleared my throat and asked the obvious. “Why are you here?”

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t be able to stop you,” I said. Crap, there I went again. He frowned. I sounded like such a bitch. “Come on in,” I said and opened the screen door, too.

“Are you sure?”

For heaven’s sake, would he stop asking questions? “Today I am sure of nothing, tomorrow drifts in mist. Someday soon you will open a door, and I will walk through.” I held up my hand before he could respond to that, whatever
that
was. “Just come in,” I said.
“Please.”

He stepped through, close enough to me that I had to step back or risk coming in contact with him. I could smell
the sweat on him, and it was more earthy than disgusting, which surprised me. It wasn’t a locker room smell. Mostly, he smelled like
guy
to the nth degree.

I let the screen door swing shut but left the front door open. Alex stood in the middle of our tiny living room looking like a giant come to visit. He was just so
solid
. I was used to being the big one in the family. I got my height from my dad’s side of the family, and Gran and Granddad both had shrunk over the years.

“You want to sit?” I gestured at our old brown couch, though looking at it, I almost doubted it would hold him.

“I ran,” he said. He took out a blue and white patterned handkerchief and wiped at his forehead then stuffed it back into his pocket. It looked just like the old-fashioned ones Granddad always carried. He never went anywhere without one. Maybe it was a guy thing. “I’m a little sweaty.”

Like I hadn’t noticed. He was like a gladiator or something but more real than Hollywood could ever be. “That’s okay. It’s old.” Not that I’d needed to draw attention to that, but it was what it was.

He sat down, and the couch let out a massive creak but held. I stayed where I was near the door. I hadn’t turned the music off, and suddenly the introduction from
Carmina Burana
came bursting out of the speakers. I’d had an opera phase a few years back when I’d first looked up what my name meant. We both jumped, and I ran to turn it down.

“Sorry,” I said and shrugged. “Um, nice,” he said. “Very, uh, bold.” I nodded but didn’t say anything. I was pretty sure he hadn’t come to chat about my love of music. Friday
night seemed like a dream. Having him here in my living room didn’t feel real. He finally cleared his throat and got to the point. “I came to apologize.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“No, it is.” He looked down at the floor and used the toe of his sneaker to flip the edge of our raggedy throw rug up and down. “I know what drinking can do. I know better. I just …”

“It happens,” I said. I’d never been drunk, but goodness knows it was a sport with some of the kids at school. I knew more than I wanted to about hangover cures and praying to the porcelain god. Tank was a true disciple, on his knees on a regular basis.

He brought his head up and stared at me, hard. “Not to me,” he said.

I didn’t have a response to that. Obviously, it
had
happened to him, but I wasn’t going to push it. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here to tell me that.”

“I wanted to say thank you, too,” he said, looking back down at his feet. “For getting me home.” If he kept worrying our ratty old rug, it was going to fall apart.

“You’re welcome,” I said.

Silence fell between us. I didn’t know what he was thinking about, but I was remembering how it had felt there in the dark with him, in the woods. Would a guilt-ridden murderer come to my house to apologize? It didn’t seem possible, unless what had happened with Jade had been an accident.

But you can’t accidentally stab someone. Not three times.

I took a few steps toward the door before I even thought about what I was doing. I had to say something. “I guess I should thank you, too,” I said. “For … for sticking up for me.”

He shook his head. “You already thanked me for that. It’s no big deal.”

Maybe not to him. “And I wanted to say I was sorry, too.”

“What—”

“Stop.” I cut him off before he finished his question. I didn’t want to have to go into a long spiel of what I was sorry for. There were too many things. “I’m sorry for that thing I said about your dad the other day. I didn’t mean anything bad by it.”

He was quiet for a moment more, a silent and unmovable bulk on our couch. “I hope you’re right, actually.”

“You do?” There I was, asking more questions.

“Yeah.” His eyes were dark and unreadable. “I am not going to be my dad. I’m not. I’m going to get out of here.”

“So what were you doing drunk in the woods?” Oh, God, what was I, some kind of inverse oracle today? I couldn’t believe I’d asked him that. I remembered how broken his voice had sounded as he’d told me how we were the same.
No one wants us
, he’d said.
We’re both on the outside looking in. We want to get out of this shithole town. And we’re both alone
. Was I alone now? I had Will. Will knew me. He knew my secret. I had someone.

He flushed a deep red. “That was the first time I’ve ever done that,” he said. “And the last.”

“Of course,” I said, nodding like some kind of idiotic bobblehead doll. I had to get him out of here before I
either asked or answered something else stupid. “Um, anyway, I really need to get ready for Jade’s service so …” I jerked my head toward the door.

He didn’t get up, but at least he stopped messing with the rug. His eyes were still on mine though, dark and intense. “One more thing,” he said. “Stay away from Will.”

I froze. What the hell was that supposed to mean? And what business was that of his? What did he know? “Alex, I think you should go,” I said firmly. “I’m really busy.”

“I mean it,” he said, standing up. “You should stay away from Will. He’s bad news.”

“And what, you’re good news?” Wasn’t he the one who’d told me to run from
him
, Alex, just two days ago?

“No, I’m not.” He took a step toward me, and the phone rang.

It was a rare occurrence in our house. I nearly jumped out of my skin. He flinched, too. I scrambled to find the phone buried under a couple of yellowing newspapers by Granddad’s favorite chair, glad to have an excuse to end the conversation. “Hello?” I said, watching Alex as he stood there watching me.

“Missed you at your grandparents’ stand today,” said Will.

“Oh,” I said and then I couldn’t think of anything else to add. It seemed forever since I’d seen him, even though it was only yesterday. I looked away from Alex, uncomfortable. He was too close, and our phone was one of those old clunkers. Could he hear who was on the other side of the line?

“So,” Will said when it became obvious I didn’t have
anything more to contribute to the conversation, “would it be all right with you if I came over? Gran said it was okay, and you could use some cheering up anyway. I could drive you to Jade’s service later.”

“Whether it will be okay or not remains to be seen. The future is not yet clear, but you’ll arrive in twenty-two minutes and seven seconds,” I said. I smacked myself in the head.
Stupid
. I looked at Alex again and narrowed my eyes at him.

“Will,” Alex said, not a question but an accusation. He grimaced, almost as if he were in pain.

I shook my head and pointed at the door. It wasn’t any of his business. But he didn’t move. Will laughed in my ear, the sound jangly and discordant over the phone. “I see it works over the phone, too. Okay, I’ll see you in twenty-two minutes and seven seconds then.” He hung up, still chuckling.

Well, at least I knew exactly how much time I had to get Alex out of here and to clean up a little. I hung up the phone. “Alex, really, you need to go.”

He watched me for a long moment, his brown eyes inscrutable, and then finally went to the door. “I’m serious,” he said. “Stay away from Will or you’ll regret it, just like Jade.” He opened the door and let it bang shut behind him. I went to the window and watched him run down our drive, his stride long and easy. I hoped he’d be far down the road by the time Will drove over.

I straightened up our small living room and opened the window. It was probably only in my head, but the room smelled like Alex, all sweat and earth and sunshine. I switched the music to something more cheerful, too, leaving it low in case some more opera showed up in the playlist. I didn’t have time to change clothes, but there wasn’t anything better for me to wear than the pale blue sundress I was in anyway. At least the color suited me. I was in front of the mirror pulling my hair into a loose ponytail when I heard Will’s car hit the gravel on our driveway. I opened the door and met him on the porch.

He was wearing a crisp white shirt and black slacks. He looked clean and new, especially out here where everything was old and grey. There was a speck of grit on his shirt, probably kicked up from our drive. I brushed it off before I thought about what I was doing.

“Sorry,” I said. “It’s really dusty out here. Gets into everything.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “You know, you’re always apologizing for something. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

I opened my mouth to say sorry again and stopped. How lame was I? Apologizing for apologizing too much.

“So, can I come in? I promised your grandfather I’d be a perfect gentleman.”

“You can,” I said in what I was coming to think of as my prophetic voice, a little deeper than my normal tones. It seemed to be more obvious when I wasn’t trying to conceal myself. And I didn’t have to conceal myself with Will. “But we probably ought to sit out here. We don’t have any air-conditioning. Sorry.”

I winced as he shook his finger at me. There I went again. It’s not like it was my fault we were too poor to have air-conditioning. Well, it kind of was. Gran and Granddad had lost a lot of money when they’d sold their retirement place in Tarpon Springs. The housing market had been terrible, and they’d had to take a huge loss after they’d saved for so long to be able to buy it. It had always been their dream to retire somewhere warm after living in upstate Michigan for so long. Our little shanty house in Lake Mariah had been all they could afford. But that was neither here nor there. I shook my head and vowed to not say I was sorry for anything else again today.