Bound Together (8 page)

“So what you’re
trying to say
is
that
there’s more to you than playing football with your Neanderthal friends?” I asked.

“
Some days I wish there wasn’t.”
He rubbed his hand across his hair several times, looking deep in thought. I spent more time than I’d like to admit analyzing his comment and wondering what it might mean.

“Is there more to you than trying to be
invisible
at school?” he asked, pulling me from my thoughts. “What are your hobbies?”

“Hobbies?” I scoffed.

“Yeah, those things you do in your free time,” he clarified.

I had to really concentrate to come up with something. “Well, if I get the time
I guess I like drawing or maybe taking a bath.”

“
Seriously?” His face was slack.

I rolled my eyes.

“
Wow, sounds exciting
.”

I didn’t know why I even bothered trying to talk to him.
We didn’t say anything else to each other for the rest of the flight.

We landed in New Jersey for our layover and to change planes. I reluctantly succumbed to Amanda’s advances and had lunch with her at an overpriced Chinese place in the airport food court.

She whipped out her itinerary and lined up her multi
-
colored highlighters in the center of the table
between us,
talking excitedly while I concentrated on my fried rice. I watched
her
shuffle through the pages of research that she’d cross
-
referenced against the itinerary and
the
outline for
her
paper.
It looked like maybe Matt was going to be more low
-
key to hang out with than I’d first assumed.

She stopped talking and was looking at me expectantly. I swallowed down a bi
te of egg roll. “Listen, Amanda
—
I’ll probably just be with Matt most of the time
. We haven’t even figured out what our paper’s on yet.”

“Oh.
” She looked down and twirled her
spork
in her chow
mein
noodles.

*****

On the flight to
Paris
I sat in between a middle aged man and woman near the back of the plane. Matt was seven rows in front of me. I could see the top of his head poking above all the others. He had the window seat this time, and no
w
I didn’t feel so bad that I’d taken it from him on our last flight. I fished the stick of gum he’d given me right before we boarded from my pocket and settled back for the long flight over the Atlantic.

Chapter Ten

Matt

After
landing and getting our luggage, we
got into
a shuttle
for the thirty minute drive into
the city of
Paris. My head throbbed and between the happy
chatter of my classmates and the
driver’s swerving,
the only thing I concentrated on
was
not getting sick as we barreled down the highway into the city.

I opened my eyes when the van came to its final stop.
Our hotel was a
simple nine-
story
pale stone building with
an
arched front door, awnings
over the windows and a
dark wooden floor
in
the
lobby.
Mr. Rhinehart reminded us
we had a few hours to rest in the hotel,
or sight see nearby
before
a trip to the National Museum of
History
and then a group dinner tonight.

After a
quick
check
-
in process, Bobby and I found our room. It was a tiny corner room with two
narrow
beds, a
wardrobe and a flat screen TV mounted on the wall. The tall window billowed with white sheer
curtains.
I face
-
planted onto the bed
near
the window, not even bothering to remove my shoes.

“So I’m
gonna
go out for a bit,” Bobby said.

I grunted and waved one hand blindly over
my head, hoping he understood
t
hat
meant,
‘cool see
ya
later.’
”

I heard the door open and sounds of laughter and talking
as Bobby met up with the others out in the hall.

*****

The pounding in my head intensified and pulled me from sleep. I cracked one eye open
and multi
-
colored lights flashed
before my eyes
, even after I closed
them
again.
Sometimes sleeping helped me to get rid of a headache, but not today. The flight and jet lag must have been a perfect combination for a migraine.
I
realized the pounding was
n’t
coming from
inside my head, but instead against
the door. Bobby must have
forgotten
his key.
I got up and stumbled for the door, opened it and then fell back onto the bed.

“Um, hello?”

I looked up and saw
Zoey
standing in the open doorway. The light flooding in from the hall created a halo around her. “Shut the door,” I said into my pillow. I h
eard the door click softly and
was grateful.

“Come on, everyone’s going to the museum.”

I didn’t move.

“What the big, strong, Matt
Parker
is too jet
-
lagged to go out?”

I groaned and rolled over onto my side into the fetal position.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice softer than before.

“Migraine,” I replied without opening my eyes.

“Oh.
” She hesitated for a second.
“
A
nything
I can do
?”

“My meds. They’re in my bag.” I motioned to the suitcase I’
d
dropped at the end of my bed. I heard her come
c
loser and opened my eyes to watch her crouch down and unzip my suitcase. She carefully moved my boxers aside and dug in between the stacks of T
-
shirts until she found the pill bottle.

“Is this it?”

I nodded and held out my hand.
“Thanks.” I squeezed my hand around the bottle and let
my hand hang limply off the bed, working up the energy to actually open it.

“Do you need me to get you some water or something?”

“That would be awesome,” I whispered.

She pushed my shoulders back until I was lying against the pillow. “Just try and relax. I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes passed and
Zoey
knocked softly on the door
.
I
pulled myself out of bed to go open
it. I stood ther
e, steadying myself against the door frame, squinting into the light. She put her arm around my waist and guided me back to the bed. I sat
down
, leaning against the headboard for support. She opened the pill the bottle and handed me one, then
brought
the
opened
bottle of water to my lips. I closed my eyes and swallowed the pill down.
I didn’t know what caused the sudden change in
Zoey
, or why she was being nice, but
I wasn’t about to complain right now.

“Thanks,
Zoey
.” I leaned my head back and closed my eyes again.

“Anytime.”

“I guess you have to go now,” I said,
not
meeting her eyes.

“I can’
t just leave you here alone.
”

I was quiet, trying to figure out what she meant.

“
I already told Mr. Rhinehart that you weren’t feeling well and that we’d meet up with everyone later
But if you don’t want me here, I could pr
obably still catch up with them.
”

I opened my eyes again.
Zoey
was sitting next to me on the bed, her blue eyes full o
f concern. “I want you to stay,” I said softly.

“Okay then.
” She stood up and moved to the end of the bed and removed my shoes and set them neatly beside my suitcase.

I scooted down on the bed and laid my head against the pillow. I felt like shit, my neck was stiff, my palms were cold and sweaty and I was nauseous. I really hoped I wouldn’t get sick
in front of her. She sat down across from me on Bobby’s bed and looked at me. “Thanks for taking care of me,” I said.

“It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

I didn’t have the brain capacity to try and interpret what that meant.
I
nstead, I
concentrate
d
on my breathing, but the room
continued to
spin
,
and while headaches normally helped me feel closer to John, I just felt alone and really far from home.

I knew she wasn’t the type to worry about keeping up appearances, so I knew she wouldn’t judge me for letting my guard down right now and so I did.
“
Zoey
?” I said without opening my eyes.

“Yeah?” she whispered.

“Can you come lay with me?”

She hesitated.

“Please.
I think it will help.
” I reached a hand out towards her.

I felt the bed shift as she sat down next to me on t
he narrow
mattress
and reluctantly lay
down next to me.
She kept her body rigidly balanced on the edge of the bed, so that we weren’t touching, but after a few seconds, I inched in closer.

The second I felt her against me, an easy calmness washed over me.
I curled my body around hers and felt
grounded
by the way our chests rose and fell together, stopping the
room from
spinning.
It should have felt strange to be lying here with
Zoey
Marshall
, but the thing that worried me the most was that it didn’t.

Chapter Eleven

Zoey

Well that was the str
angest two hours I’d ever spent
—
in Matt’s arms in a hotel room in
Paris
. Just wait until Morgan heard this story. Th
ere was nothing sexual about it
—
it had been like taking care of one of my brothers. Lord knows Charlie had asked me to sleep in his room countless times when we were growing up. He had an intense fear of monsters all of second grade. That’s all this was, Matt at his weakest, altho
ugh I was a little surprised he’
d let me see him at his most vulnerable.

I’d gone into M
om
-
mode, nothing more. At least I’d felt useful for the first time on this trip. I wasn’t used to only being responsible for myself. And I did kind
of
like it when he closed his eyes while I raked my fingers through his hair
to massage his scalp
.

He’d woken up i
n a completely different state
—
bright eyed and ready to go see the city. He kept apologizing about making me miss our first excursion of the day, but I honestly didn’t care that much. After we checked into the hotel, I’d taken off on my own to get away from Amanda and walked
up and down the block
our hotel
was one. The fear of getting lost kept me from going too far, but I’d sat down beside
a fountain and
became enamored with the details of this place that felt so completely differe
nt than anything at home. Cocky
pink
-
footed pigeons danced at my feet, and
people
everyone
were
effortlessly cool in tailored shirts and trim-fit jeans. Paris had a coolness factor, an air to it that dared you to try and become a Parisian. The charming shops along the uneven cobblestone street bore names like B
rasserie
, Patisserie. And there were
sidewalk cafés
galore where people lingered over bottles of wine, cigarettes and conversations that sounded all the more fascinating spoken in their accented French.