Catch (7 page)

She won the next round, which increased her
pile of cards just a bit. She repeated her last question as she
straightened her stack. “So, what about me? What did you mean, I
‘happened’?”

Chewing on his bottom lip, he folded his arms
and leaned back in his chair. She liked the way his hat shaded his
eyes. They were light and dark at the same time as he looked at
her. “You called your phone. I heard your voice. I realized what
I’d been doing to other people by stealing their stuff—how wrong it
really was, even if it felt like the easiest option. I knew I
couldn’t keep doing it.” His eyes found hers, and she stared into
the light gray pools and then down to his lips.

“What are you going to do?” she
whispered.

“I’m going to apologize to my father and get
my life back.”

“But you said you wouldn’t have a life if you
do that. What kind of life is that—living under someone’s
thumb?”

He shook his head. “You’re tricky, Miranda …
sneaking in all these questions when I’m feeling so
vulnerable.”

Another hot blush blossomed on her cheeks. “I
don’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Let’s keep going.” He turned
over his next card, and she followed right after him. It was
another pair. She won the round again, and it looked as if their
piles were equal now. This game could go on for hours.

Before she could even repeat her last
question, Ollie leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.
“I’ll find a way to make it work with my father,” he said. “He’s
the only family I have that cares I exist.”

Miranda looked down as he reached forward and
traced a finger up her arm. Since when had they become this
intimate? Since, like, three seconds ago, apparently. She didn’t
mind. He seemed so alone, so sad. What would it be like to live
without her family? It was a foreign concept to her. Here she was,
perfectly fine in her life. Loved, taken care of, but given her
freedom at the same time. That was … well, it was something she
would never take for granted again. What made her more depressed
than anything else was wondering if Ollie would give up any chance
of such a thing if he gave in to his dad.

“I don’t think you should,” she said softly.
“I think it would be a mistake to throw yourself into that life if
you know it’s not going to make you happy.”

He smirked. “Who says it won’t make me
happy?”

She realized she didn’t know Ollie at all,
and it made her sad. She wanted to know everything about him. She
wanted to hold him and press her lips against that soft spot on his
neck, right there above the collar of his T-shirt. Time seemed to
stop for a second as she relished his touch on her arm. Then he
pulled away and she returned to reality.

“What about freedom and risks and mistakes?”
she asked. “What about finding someone you want to be with?” She
almost gulped down that last part, but let it come out.

“I don’t know,” he grumbled. “I don’t know
what I want, where I want to go. And I don’t have anyone in my life
who understands. When you grow up with a lot of money, you’d be
surprised how hard it is to make real friends. You know, people who
aren’t just there to use you. Even ones who start out meaning well
… something always happens and it turns sour over one thing or
another.” He studied Miranda’s face so intently his eyes were like
lasers trying to pierce through her. “Which probably means this
whole thing with us—whatever it is—isn’t going to end well.”

She laughed and his gaze broke. “You’re
penniless, Ollie. I can guarantee I’m not using you. Besides, how
many friendships have you begun by stealing? This isn’t exactly
typical.”

His face broke into a smile. “Well, I’m not
completely penniless. I’ve managed to hold on to a little
money.”

“
Stolen
money,” she retorted in a
teasing voice.

“Not all of it’s stolen. Besides, I’m
returning your stuff, aren’t I? Wait, so are you … are you saying
we’re friends?” He spoke the last word as if it was a sacred thing.
To him, it probably was.

She returned his smile and leaned back in her
chair. Taking a sip of coffee, she nodded. “I’d like to be.”

“Well, that’s …” He shook his head and took
another bite of his pastry. “That’s really great,” he said softly
through his chewing.

He was still holding the pastry close to his
mouth, and she noticed his scars once again. That would be her next
question, but she’d have to wait because Ollie won the next round.
Her heart pounded as he tapped his front teeth with a fingernail.
“What’s your greatest fear?”

“My greatest fear? That seems like a vague
sort of question.”

He shrugged. “I’m curious. A person’s
greatest fear can say a lot about them.”

“Well, um …” A hundred things raced through
her mind. She could say it was being trapped in one place forever
like her parents, but that would be a lie because she feared deadly
viruses and plane crashes more than that. In all reality, she
wanted safety. Staying in one place could guarantee that. But she
also craved excitement and adventure and had always dreamed of
breaking out of her shell. To her, safety and excitement were akin
to oil and water. Was it possible to have both?

“Wow, lots of thinking for this one,” Ollie
interrupted her thoughts. “Is it a complicated question?”

“It’s a complicated answer,” she replied as
she looked into the bottom of her coffee cup. Was she really going
to spill her darkest fear to a guy she barely knew? For some
reason, she wanted to do just that. “I think it’s ending up alone,”
she said, looking across the table into his eyes. She let them act
as an anchor. “But it’s not that I’m afraid of
being
alone …
because I’m not. I like to be by myself. It’s more like I’m afraid
that I’m going to die alone, that I’m going to look back and see
that nobody ever wanted me enough to stay with me, or that I was
too afraid to want someone enough to stay with them … that I’ll end
up valuing safety more than the rewards of risk.”

Ollie blinked. His expression was serious,
almost shocked. “My father once told me everyone dies alone,” he
said with a crack in his voice. “But I don’t want to believe
him.”

She tried to swallow and realized how dry her
mouth had become. “Should we keep going?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

They kept playing. Ollie’s stack grew
thicker, and Miranda laughed when he commented that he’d finally
eased back into his groove. When they hit another pair, Miranda
squeezed her eyes shut as she turned over her fourth card. Ollie
had a queen. When she opened her eyes, she grinned. She’d put down
a king.

“Nice,” Ollie laughed. “Hey, do you want more
coffee?”

She glanced at her empty cup. “Are you trying
to avoid my question?”

“Just stalling,” he admitted, and grabbed her
cup. When he returned, she had gathered all her winning cards and
was thinking about how she’d ask him about those scars. She took a
sip of the rich, hot coffee and swirled it around in her mouth as
Ollie settled back into his chair.

She nodded toward his hand. “Can you tell me
what happened?”

He looked confused for a minute then glanced
down at his hand. “Oh, that.”

“It looks like it was painful.” As she sipped
her coffee, she studied the raised, white flesh spread in a large
spider web pattern across his knuckles.

“The cuts were pretty deep,” he explained as
he studied the scars. “But if I had to do it all over again, I
would.”

“That sounds like an interesting story.” She
smirked. “That’s a subtle hint to tell me, by the way. I’m really
curious.”

“Oh, I can tell you. It’s nothing, really. I
had a girlfriend a few years ago and her ex found us at a party one
night. He tried to attack her with a beer bottle and I got in the
way—on purpose, of course.”

“Wow … that’s amazing, Ollie.”

He laughed. “Why? I did the right thing, even
if she did leave me a month later.”

“I’m not sure any of my old boyfriends would
have done something like that for me,” she said, watching Ollie rub
the scars as if he was remembering how much it had hurt.

He lifted his attention to her. “Then they
didn’t deserve you.”

When Miranda returned to the hotel room, it
didn’t seem anyone had missed her. It was two-thirty and she was
full of coffee and pastry and sugar. She was high as a kite. Ollie
was her friend now. The guy who stole her purse was her friend.
That was so strange, but cool at the same time. She pulled off her
T-shirt and slid into bed, thinking over everything Ollie had said.
After he told her about the scars, none of their questions were as
serious as they had been earlier. Things like favorite colors and
foods. Nothing too revealing. She figured they were both exhausted
from sharing all that emotionally draining information.

Her phone buzzed, and she snatched it off the
nightstand to see another message from Ollie.

When can I see you again, Miranda?

She looked down at her sleeping sister. Julia
was the whole reason Ollie was her friend now. If she hadn’t dialed
Miranda’s cell phone number that day, none of this would have
happened.

Tomorrow, I hope. When do I get my pictures
back?

All in good time, my friend. All in good
time.

When she woke in the morning, she showered
and stood in the bathroom to blow dry her hair. She couldn’t stop
smiling at herself in the mirror. Ollie had told her the truth
about everything. At least, it seemed like he had. He was so
genuine and open. Was it possible things could happen with him? A
real relationship that wouldn’t end up breaking her heart?

“You’re certainly happy today,” Miranda’s
mother said as she came into the bathroom and started applying her
makeup. “What’s going on?”

Miranda grinned. “Oh, nothing. Just got your
camera back last night.”

“What?” Gabriela turned around, as if the
camera might appear in front of her. “Where?”

“It’s on the dresser.”

“Right here, honey!” Miranda’s father yelled
out. He appeared around the corner, holding up the camera. “Appears
to be in perfect condition. How did you get this back?”

She gave them both a cryptic smile. “He’s not
really a thief. I mean, he is, but he’s not.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Gabriela
scoffed.

“He’s going to return everything by the time
we leave. That’s all I can say. So there’s no use in reporting
him.”

Her dad’s face crinkled in confusion. “What’s
going on, Manda? Do you know this guy?”

“I do now. Just trust me, okay? Everything is
fine.”

She knew they would drop it, and they
did.

They spent the day as a whole family, since
her dad had the day off from the convention. As they ate lunch and
went on some rides, Miranda considered staying home and forgetting
about college altogether. Her mom seemed so stressed sometimes when
it came to Grammy, as if losing all those pictures in the flood was
more about losing a part of herself and needing to find it again
some other way. Miranda wondered if staying home might be for the
best. Moving away was just another thing that would make her mom
feel like she’d lost someone important. Would staying help, though?
Julia wasn’t going to stick around forever, either. For today,
Miranda decided, she would savor being with her family, even if
Julia kept complaining that she missed Gavin so much she was going
to die.

“I think I’m starting to understand,” Miranda
said as they took their seats for an afternoon magic show at one of
the hotels.

Julia leaned closer. “Understand what?”

“Missing someone.”

Julia grinned. “Ah-ha. You have things to
tell me. I saw your note on your pillow last night, by the way.
’Fess up, sista.”

Miranda laughed as the lights dimmed and the
show began. “Well, not now, but later I will.”

She tried not to think about Ollie and how
much she was starting to like him. She wanted him to touch her
again so she could feel that shock of excitement run through her.
She wanted to show him not everybody in the world was out to use
him or exert power over him. He didn’t have to steal in order to
triumph over his father, and he didn’t have to give in to his
father’s little game in order to survive. There had to be another
way.

“Let’s go see the Bellagio fountains,”
Miranda’s dad said as they were walking to a monorail station so
they could ride back to the hotel. Miranda kept staring at her
phone, wondering why Ollie hadn’t messaged her at all today. She
had texted a few messages to him, but there had been no response.
There was a dim spark of hope that she might run into him at the
fountains in front of the Bellagio, but it was a very dim spark.
She sent him another text anyway.

Dancing water.

That had to be easy enough. She wasn’t sure
if he’d show up in front of her family, though. Maybe tonight they
could meet for coffee again.

“So, Miranda,” Gabriela said as they walked
down the sidewalk toward the Bellagio. “I forgot to tell you that
I’ve decided to write a memoir.”

That was random. Miranda looked at Julia, who
shrugged.

“About your whole life so far?”

“About my mother—every memory I have of her.
There was that time she took me to the orange orchard and we found
a stray tabby. We kept that cat for fifteen years before it died.
My mother loved cats more than anything in the world.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Miranda said,
curious. “You hate cats.”

“I know! Isn’t that funny? We used to fight
over that tabby all the time, how its fur would get on
everything
and I constantly had itchy eyes.”

“Well, Mom,” Miranda said as they neared the
fountain, “I think that’s really great—about the memoir. I want to
read it when you’re done. I want to know what she was like. You’ve
never really talked about her.”