Aven's Dream (15 page)

“I have an obligation to protect those who might be harmed by my past.”

I nodded once.

“Got it,” I snapped. “You’ve got a big, bad past, and I’m an obligation.”

I turned and looked out the window, where the rain had begun to sheet against the glass.

“By coming after you, he was hoping I would do something reckless. He thinks …” Will sighed. “He believes he’s found my weakness.”

I wasn’t following his logic.

“I don’t understand,” I said, feeling, yet again, like I had missed an integral piece of the conversation.

“Don’t you?” Will asked, turning to search my face for something.

We had entered the parking lot at school, and Will pulled smoothly into a space several yards from the other cars, cutting the engine. Through the darkly tinted windows of the Aston Martin, I could have sworn I saw the first hint of sunlight breaking through the clouds even as it continued to rain, but that wasn’t possible. I had seen the last of the sunshine when summer ended, I was certain.

Will turned toward me, staring until my cheeks burned and my breathing became shallow. Something in his eyes put me on edge. Even more so than usual—but not in a good way this time. He exhaled and turned away. It had seemed like he was about to say something, but stopped short in a way that I was becoming aggravatingly used to. The air in the car thickened with tension, and when Will finally looked back at me, his expression made me uneasy. I couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

“My dad’s leaving Saturday for Colorado,” I blurted in my desperation to break the awkwardness that was building. “I just thought I should tell you because, well, you know.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. I looked down, bewildered by his sudden apathy. My eyes burned, and I blinked. Maybe Will had decided that he didn’t care what happened to me. I couldn’t keep up with his freakishly unpredictable moods. Charming one second, irritable the next.

Suddenly the door popped open, and I looked up at Will, wondering how the hell he had gotten from the driver’s side to the passenger door without me noticing. I stepped out of the car and squinted up at the sky. It
hadn’t
been my imagination. It was still raining, but the clouds were parting enough to let through the first glimmer of sunlight even as my mood plummeted.

Will walked me to class, and the remainder of the day passed without incident. But I couldn’t shake my growing sense that something had changed with Will. Lizzie chattered excitedly in study hall, asking a million times if I thought Sean liked her, and I assured her—multiple times—that Sean had been at his charming best during lunch. Groaning inwardly, I prepared myself for an inevitable repeat performance of this enthusiastic and excessive interrogation by Sean about Lizzie’s interpretation of lunch.

Sean didn’t disappoint me.

He nearly knocked me over when I got to Journalism. I was still surprised that my accidental attempt at matchmaking had been such a success. Even better, Sean never mentioned Allison Monroe once the entire period. He was too busy asking questions about Lizzie. I couldn’t help thinking it was a little like Romeo forgetting Rosaline only moments after seeing Juliet.

My hands shook when the custodian showed up to fix the door hinges and replace the broken window. Mr. Blake had already posted a flier seeking information about the supposed vandalism. I couldn’t say anything, though. Anyone I told would think I was crazy. Besides, I still didn’t actually
know
what had happened.

I thought about Will’s compulsive protection detail and singular attention to my wellbeing. He had said he was
obligated
to protect those who might be harmed by his past, but I didn’t want to be anybody’s obligation, and certainly not Will Kincaid’s. Eventually it would start to hurt too much knowing he was only around me out of guilt.

Will’s image was burned into my memory like a brand. I could recall every time we had touched during the past two weeks—or any time we had come even close, by accident or not. I forced myself to stop thinking about it, afraid that this train of thought would only cause me more pain.

Then, with a sudden ache, I remembered what Will had said about opening the floodgates, and I was afraid it was too late.

T
he skies over Winters cleared overnight, causing me to wonder if Sean had been wrong all along about the monster storm he was predicting. At first, I thought the sunlight might be a good sign, and when I got to campus, I found myself turning toward the sun like a flower, enjoying the bright, natural light.

Then I saw Will. He was standing beneath the awning. He looked perfect, as usual. Then I noticed he was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. A frisson coursed through me at the sight of him. I couldn’t identify the emotion that had taken hold of me. Nerves? Excitement?
Fear
? I walked up to him not knowing what to say.

“Hi,” I said, aware that I was even more uncomfortable now that I was standing in front of him.

“Hi.”

His tone made me nervous. It was mocking and cold. I was used to him being moody, but this was different. It was like I was staring at a different person. Without a word, I started walking to class. When I glanced to my left, he was there walking beside me, but I could tell he didn’t want to be. What was with that? Male PMS?

It took half the day before it finally hit me. Will knew how I felt about him. He could probably see it in my face. I must have looked like a desperate puppy looking for attention. And he obviously didn’t feel the same way. He was just sticking around because of a sense of responsibility, which only made me hate the faceless man from the Journalism room even more.

I was about to say something in fourth period, but the look in his eyes stopped me cold. Then, instead of confronting him after class—what would I even say?—I walked to the cafeteria before doubling back to my favorite spot with my copy of
For Whom the Bell Tolls
. Yeah, part of me was worried about weirdo stalkers, but even more than that I wanted to escape Will. Actually, I wanted to escape being Will’s obligation. If he was getting sick of following me around, then I would stay out of his way. Sitting on the stairs and taking off my jacket, I opened the book and took a bite of my apple.

“
Enjoying the weather?
”

My apple dropped to the ground, and when I looked up, I saw Will sitting on a car about ten feet away. He was still wearing the sunglasses from this morning.

“Yeah, I am,” I said as I flipped back to the page I had lost, ignoring my dropped apple and hoping Will would take the hint to go away.

Was it my fault that I had fallen for him when he was following me around? I glanced up and jumped when I saw the car he had been perched on was now empty.

“Aven,” Will whispered.

I froze. Will’s voice had come from behind me. Whipping my head around, I saw him sitting on the steps above me, which was impossible because he would have had to pass by me to get there. I would have seen him, heard him.

“How did you—”

“How did I what?” Will smirked.

“Are you always this freaking moody when the weather gets good?”

“
Good
is a matter of opinion, not objective fact. I’ve presented myself to you as the
good
guy, but what if I’ve been lying to you?”

My skin prickled as I turned to face him, and I didn’t enjoy the fact that he was sitting above me.

“
Are
you lying?”

He shrugged.

“I have a question for you.”

“Which is?” I asked, trying to figure out why he was being so damn strange.

“How did you feel yesterday? When you were in the same room as him?”

I shivered as Will leaned toward me.

“A little like I do right now,” I whispered, feeling another tremor of fear flow through me.

When Will smiled, I grabbed my backpack and jumped up.

“You know what? If you’re being a total jackass because you think I’ve got some adolescent crush on my fearless protector, then you can cut the act, all right?”

I spun away from him and headed back toward school, trying to keep from crying. Will had been strange, mysterious, charming—but never mean. Not like today. And if he was going to continue following me around and acting like an asshole, then he could do it from a distance.

I pretended Will didn’t exist, and he stayed out of my way until fourth period on Friday, when he was right behind me the entire period. At lunch, I went to the cafeteria with Sean, Matt, and Jeff. In fifth, Lizzie was bouncing up and down in her seat. She and Sean had tentative plans to go to the movies on Saturday night at the theatre in town—which Sean hadn’t mentioned during lunch.

When she begged me to come to her house on Saturday to help her pick out an outfit, I promised I would if my dad didn’t leave too early for his trip. Apparently the clear weather had caused Sean to have amnesia about his dire storm predictions for the weekend. In Journalism, I pounced.

“When were you going to tell me about your date?” I demanded playfully.

Sean shrugged.

“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Matt and Jeff.”

“So you really like her?” I asked, smiling.

He nodded.

“She’s really cool.”

This made me feel better.

“What’s with you and the new guy?”

Sean’s question made me sink down in my seat.

“I told you—nothing.”

“Nothing,” Sean said skeptically. “Really. Then why did he go from escorting you into History to you guys glaring at each other? Are you hooking up with him?”

I shook my head vehemently.

“
No
!”

Sean raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay. I’m just saying … You don’t get that bent out of shape about someone you don’t care about.”

I scowled at him and got up to work on my article for the rest of the period. When the bell finally rang, I walked out of class and stopped as soon as I caught sight of Will. My stomach dipped anxiously as I studied his perfect features. I could see his face was drawn. He looked paler, and his normally bright blue eyes looked almost grayish. Without saying anything, I started walking toward the buses, annoyed when he fell in step with me.

“I’ll be at your house at seven-thirty. Don’t leave the house this afternoon. Please,” he said.

I was about to protest, but I stopped abruptly when he stared at me. There was something undeniably troubling about his appearance. He was still devastatingly gorgeous, but maybe too much so. Like a statue. Perfect and unyielding. I looked away from him as he walked away. Getting on the bus, I tried to make sense of the sudden change in him. He had spent all this energy fulfilling whatever he thought his obligation was only to get pissy about it
now
because he thought I had a crush? Then why was he insisting on coming to dinner tonight? It didn’t make sense.

The bus dropped me a block from the house, and I looked to the sky, only to find dark storm clouds already moving in on the short-lived sunlight. I rushed up the front stairs and opened the door, locking it behind me before yelling up to my dad.

“Dad! I’m home!”

“In the middle of something, Aven. I’ll be down in a minute,” he called back.

Instead of waiting for him to come downstairs, which might never happen, I ran up and poked my head into his office. He was at his desk, bent over a stack of papers. I went over and wrapped my arms around him. He turned to look at me.

“Everything okay?” he asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Great,” I said, struggling to make my tone as bright as possible.

I smiled and turned toward the door, calling over my shoulder to Darcy, who leaped up from where he had been sleeping at my dad’s feet. He trailed after me, looking hopeful, as I went down the hall to my room. I unloaded my bag and glanced at my running shoes, which lay abandoned by my closet door. At my desk, I turned on the computer, listening as the maple tree tapped my window at an increasingly frenetic pace. I sighed. That tree had turned out to be a pretty reliable bad-weather predictor.

After staring at the blank screen for a few minutes, I got up and padded down the hall with Darcy trailing behind me. I headed downstairs, wanting to make sure that my dad had actually gone to the grocery store before leaving for Colorado. Still absorbed in his work, he didn’t even look up as I passed. In the kitchen, a fresh baguette from the bakery sat on the countertop, and when I swung open the refrigerator door, I was pleasantly surprised to see that my dad hadn’t forgotten anything on the shopping list. I smiled at the sight of one small addition.

A miniature chocolate cake sat on the shelf. The cake and frosting were dark chocolate, my favorite. Any other time, I would have been tempted to sneak a slice before dinner, but my stomach protested at the thought of food, which wasn’t a good sign. I looked down when Darcy yipped, realizing that he had been conditioned to expect a walk as soon as I got home from school.

“Sorry, buddy. No walk today,” I said dully, remembering my promise not to leave the house.

Taking out a can of dog food, I mixed it with kibble and poured it into to the bowl in the corner. Then I looked at my watch. The thought of sitting down to do homework on a Friday afternoon wasn’t appealing. After a brief debate, I decided to put my nervous energy to good use and clean. The task seemed far healthier than obsessing over Will’s sudden coldness. I decided to start with my room, based on the tiniest possibility Will might see it. But that got me wondering how many fathers would let their teenage daughters up to their rooms with a guy who looked like Will Kincaid. Either way, my dad and I didn’t have any practical experience with situations like this since I had never dated. Not that it mattered. Will wasn’t coming over as my date.

My room needed little in the way of cleaning. I eyed my surroundings critically for the first time since we had moved. The room was stark. There wasn’t any clutter, or anything else, for that matter. My mom’s desk contrasted with the random assortment of furniture—a nightstand, twin bed, and dresser, all from World Market. We had sold or donated most of what had made the house in Irvine home. My dad had claimed it was easier to move with less stuff, but really, I thought it was because he hadn’t wanted to bring all those memories with us.

A clean start
.

Apart from a quilt on the bed and freshly painted walls, my new room was almost devoid of personal touches. A few boxes of unpacked books remained in the corner. Not that my room in Irvine had been very different. My dad insisted that I must have been a nomad in another life since I refused to put up so much as a calendar on the walls. I kept things simple. No posters, no concert tickets. Just a framed black and white print of a photograph my mom had taken years ago during a camping trip to Yosemite.

Putting away the folded laundry, I returned downstairs after swapping my jeans for a pair of sweats. After cleaning the counters and sink in the kitchen, I swept the floor before moving to the living room where I dusted and vacuumed the rug.

My dad was still in his office when I returned to my room to sort through the slim clothing selection my closet offered. I happened to be allergic to clothes shopping, and my mom had dubbed me the most indecisive shopper on the planet. Still, with the change in climate, I had subsidized my modest clothing budget with gift cards that I had been hoarding from birthdays and holidays.

Digging into the back of my closet, I found the three-quarter length sleeved scoop neck blouse I had purchased over the summer. It was a deep blue that contrasted well with my hair. The shirt was a sharp contrast to the more muted hues of my regular wardrobe, and when the school year had started, I had realized with no small amount of regret that the shirt would probably never make it out of my closet. It wasn’t me. It was just too …
conspicuous
.

But tonight seemed like just the occasion for something outside my comfort zone since tonight was probably going to be light years from comfortable. Picking up the shirt, I set it on the bed with a pair of my nicer jeans. Darcy followed me, less excited than before, as I went back downstairs to get started on dinner. Sighing, I realized that the poor dog probably hadn’t been outside for hours, so I opened the back door and watched him trot off to pee on the bushes lining the yard.

The wind had picked up and was whipping through the trees, making an eerie howling noise. I shivered and made sure to bolt the door before it could swing open and scare me to death. I hoped futilely that my dad would come downstairs soon to watch the sauce while I got ready. Will’s abrupt mood change made the thought of having dinner with him a strange combination of terrifying and oddly exciting.

My dad wandered into the kitchen just as I finished putting together the salad. The sauce was already simmering, and I asked if he could keep an eye on things while I got ready. He settled at the kitchen table with the paper, and I reminded him that Darcy was outside before I raced upstairs to grab my robe from the bedroom.

By the time I stepped into the shower, I was really hoping that the hot water would calm my nerves and slow my pulse, which sped up every time I thought about Will showing up. After a few minutes, I grudgingly turned off the hot water and stepped into the chilly bathroom, where I took the time to blow-dry my hair. Self-consciously, I dabbed on lip-gloss and some eye shadow before inspecting my appearance in the mirror, trying my best to ignore the scruffy robe.