Flee (8 page)

“What's so funny?” Blake asked, noticing my smile.

“I was just feeling sorry for Chad. He seems to have set Callie off about something.”

“I've known her since we were eight. It's not often that she loses an argument. She has a mind like a prosecuting attorney. My dad always joked that she acted more like his flesh and blood than I did. She'll have Chad for lunch.” She swiped absent-mindedly at the tears forming in her eyes and then forced a shaky smile. “So maybe she'll let me have her leftover Chinese she mentioned last period.”

“Do you like Chinese?” I asked. “I'm getting a little tired of cafeteria food myself. Want to spice it up a bit? We could go pick up some Chinese. I know a good place not too far from here. If I call ahead, it should be ready when we get there.” I watched her carefully for her reaction, grateful when her shaky smile turned genuine. I didn't want to push her too far.

“We would have to eat it in the car to make it back on time, but I'm game if you are.” Seniors were allowed off campus for lunch but seldom went. Forty minutes wasn't a lot of time to get anywhere and back without risking a tardy.

“Yeah, I think I'd like that. Would you like me to drive? That way you could call and order while I watch the road.” We had reversed directions now and were headed to the parking lot. I glanced at her Mini Cooper.

“Um, I don't know if I'll fit in your car. Have you ever noticed how small it is?”

“Yeah, dork, that's why they call it a mini. And you'll fit just fine. Joe fits. My dad fit.”

“It's a great car, but let's take my truck. That way I can drive, and you call and order? Besides, I know where we're going.”

She stuck her tongue out at me, but followed me to my truck.

“So, don't tell Coach, but I'm going for some deep fried grease.” I scrolled through my contacts until I located the number I wanted and then handed her my cell phone. “I'd like General Tso's chicken and an egg roll.”

Blake snorted, clearly amused. “You have food on your speed dial?”

“I'm a guy, aren't I?”

“Well, I'm a girl, but I don't have the mall on my speed dial.”

“What would be the point of that? Hello, mall? My blood sugar is low, and I'm light headed, and I think I might pass out, so I gotta know. Do you have black heels in a size seven?”

Blake laughed. “Apparently you've never had a shoe emergency.” She pushed talk and put in our food order. I groaned when I heard her selection, and she glanced over at me, confused.

“You don't approve of my choice?” She hung up and looked at me, her voice soft and uncertain.

“Tofu and edamame over rice noodles? How many calories is that, like ten?”

“And you're concerned about my caloric intake because…?” She didn't sound annoyed, though. I took that as a good omen and continued.

“Okay, please don't take this the wrong way, because you're stunning, but you could stand to gain a little weight. You run several miles almost every morning, and then you pick at food like a little bird. It's not healthy.” I glanced at her to make sure I hadn't gone too far. She didn't look upset, just contemplative. She stared out of the window for a moment, her fingers absentmindedly tracing a design on the glass.

“Food has no taste for me. It hasn't since February. It's just something I have to do, like brushing my teeth. Sometimes I forget to do it at all. Drives Joe and Mary crazy. And since I don't get any pleasure out of it, I just choose healthy things. I have honestly never given any thought to how many calories I'm consuming. I just eat something because it's time to eat, and then I move on.” She stared straight ahead now, her hands in her lap clenched together. “So you think I'm too skinny?”

“What I said is that you're stunning, and I meant that. No girl could compete.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but her blush gave her away. “But I'm concerned that you don't eat enough and your body isn't getting what it needs. Can I ask you a question?”

She nodded.

“Is that uniform new, or did you wear it last year?”

“It's old. I haven't bought anything new in a long time.”

“That's what I thought. Have you noticed how loose your skirt is? You spend half the day pulling it back up to your waist. One of these days it's just gonna slip to the ground around your ankles. I'm not sure Wade will be able to handle that sight.” Blake laughed, and then her expression turned serious again. “Let's make that our goal. Let's work to get your clothes to properly fit. So unless you promise to begin eating like a horse, at least temporarily, I'm not going to run with you anymore. That's just asking too much of your body.”

She pouted, her bottom lip sticking out adorably.

“Does it have to be a whole, big horse? How ‘bout a Shetland pony?”

“Deal,” I said. “But no biting. I had a Shetland pony once. He was mean.”

We were at the restaurant now. I put the truck in park and went in to pick up our food. When I returned, I found her with her seat leaned back and eyes closed. Climbing in quietly, I placed the bag on the console between the front seats, backed the car out of the parking space, and drove back to school carefully, avoiding unnecessary bumps. Maybe a ten-minute power nap would sustain her for the rest of the afternoon.

When we arrived back at school, I nudged her arm gently. She groaned and stretched, keeping her eyes closed. “I could just start sleeping in your truck. It seems to have the same effect on me as you.”

“Not a bad idea. It's available any time you need it.” I checked the first container and handed it to her, along with a package of plastic ware, then opened the other container, braved a bite, and tried not to grimace.

“This is your food,” she said, staring into the container on her lap.

“Try it. Maybe you'll like it. Either way it'll fill you up more than this.” I made a face at my fork. She laughed and made a move to swap containers, and I held mine up and away from her. “Absolutely not, or no running tomorrow. Remember, Shetland pony. I'll eat this. You eat that. It's my version of taking a bullet for you, only much, much worse.” I tried to stab a piece onto my fork. What was tofu anyway? “Don't tell any of the guys on the team you saw me eat this. I would be totally emasculated.”

She took a bite of the chicken, and then stabbed another piece with the fork and held it up to my mouth. “We'll share, then.” That sounded like the best idea I had heard in a long time. We ate silently, trying to complete our meal in the remaining time before the next class. As I chewed I watched the truck's air conditioner blowing her hair softly around her face, noting the circles under her eyes weren't quite as dark as they had been when we'd met. Either way, she was beautiful. I fought the urge to grab her hand and concentrated on eating. With five minutes to spare, we gathered our trash.

“Fortune cookie?” Blake asked, pulling one out of the bag and handing it to me.

I opened it and read the contents silently. “Since when did fortunes turn into proverbs or quotes from literature? Whatever happened to an old-fashioned
'Good luck will come your way this week'
?”

“What does it say?” Blake asked.

"
‘Love asks me no questions and gives me endless support.'
"

“That's Shakespeare.”

I made a face at her.

“What?” she said, “You would prefer
'Deny thy father and refuse thy name'
?”

I stumbled and awkwardly caught myself.
She doesn't know. She couldn't
know. Stay calm
. “Ha ha. Open yours.”

Blake opened her cookie, read the tiny paper, and then quickly crumpled it up and shoved it in her pocket.

“What?” I asked. “Is the world going to end tomorrow? You should tell me, you know, because that will completely change my plans for today.” Blake shook her head no, pursed her lips and glanced at the clock on the dashboard.

I decided to let it go. “We should go in, it's late.” We got out of the truck and headed back toward the school building. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore my sudden attack of nerves, I spoke.

“Blake, I was wondering, since Friday night's game is an early one, would you like to come over to my house afterward and hang out for a while? You're kind of my best friend here, and I'd like the chance to spend some more time with you.”

For a moment I had the thrill of experiencing her striking green eyes staring into mine, then she quickly looked away, her hair falling across her face and shielding her expression. Her hand moved to her pocket and the paper in it crinkled. When she spoke, her voice so soft I had to strain to hear.

“I'd like that a lot. I guess I should check with Joe and Mary, though. I haven't really left the house much. I don't want to send them into shock.”

“I already cleared it with Coach. He said to have you home by midnight.”

“You asked Joe's permission?”

I nodded, embarrassed.

“You really are an old-fashioned gentleman, aren't you? In that case, sir, I accept your invitation.” She bowed a little, her eyes twinkling, then linked her arm through mine and headed to the academic building.

Callie was waiting for us by the double doors. “Where'd you guys disappear to?” She eyed the containers, and her lips turned out into a pout. “You got Chinese without me?” She was apparently trying to look offended, but she couldn't stop a big smile from spreading across her face. When Blake turned and threw our trash away, Callie silently high-fived me.

“You had leftover Chinese already, Callie,” Blake reminded her.

“Not the same as fresh, especially when it comes to egg rolls.”

“There's plenty of tofu left if you care to dig it out of the trash,” I replied, winking at her.

“No,” Callie said, wrinkling her nose. “I think that's the proper place for tofu.” She glanced at the clock hanging on the hallway wall. “Alright, Blake, try not to be get too excited about it, but it's time to get to calculus.” They turned, Blake waving goodbye to me and Callie calling out, “Next time, Reyna, I expect some sesame chicken.”

“Sure thing, McClure. Heaven forbid I get on your bad side like Chad.”

I dodged her rapidly thrown paper ball and turned toward Latin class, trying to not groan. It wasn't one of my favorites.

“Soccer Boy?” Blake's voice, soft and shy, came from behind me. I turned to face her.

“Ya?”

She looked down, her cheeks flushed pink. “Do you really think I'm stunning?” she whispered.

“Absolutely,” I replied without hesitation.

A big smile quickly spread across her face all the way up to her wondering eyes, which now shone as if she had discovered something new.

“Surely you've been told that before?”

She shrugged. “It never mattered before.”

Behind Blake, Wade leaned up against the lockers, his shoulders slumped and his face sad.

The bell began to ring. Still blushing, Blake turned and ran toward calculus. I entered Latin, missing her already.

Blake

I sat on the floor between my bed and The Box. I hadn't pulled anything out of it since the night I removed the framed picture of Dad and me. I hadn't meant to pull anything out of it tonight, but I was restless, hyped up with the knowledge that Mateo had asked me out. The box seemed to be calling to me. And so I found myself sitting beside it, my hand on the lid, willing myself to reach in.

I should be asleep. I wished I were. It was three in the morning and I had been staring at this stupid box for an hour. I was restless. I seemed to always be restless away from school.
Away from Mateo
, my heart whispered to me. I rested my head on the edge of my bed, the soft puffy comforter my mom had purchased for me surrounding my face. It was soothing, a small reminder of Mom, but what I really wanted was to see her face to face.
Oh, Mom, I finally have a boy I want to talk with you about and I can't
. Life was so unfair. I closed my eyes and tried to figure out my feelings for him. My head had been a jumble of confused and negative emotions for so long. Now thoughts of him moved through my mind like spring, bringing life to parched, dead places.

This is my happy place
.
Just try to stay here and draw upon that strength to conquer this box
. With eyes tightly squeezed shut, I took a deep breath and stuck my hand in, feeling around until I came into contact with something soft and fuzzy. Brody's stuffed BearBear. Wincing, I willed myself to pull it slowly out, deeply breathing until it was free, and I could hug it without looking. I could almost smell his sweet baby smell, see his chubby little arms hugging it in his sleep. It was heartbreaking. What I
could
smell was a faint hint of my mother's favorite perfume. She had slept with this bear, too, almost every night for months after Brody had died. Tears began to rapidly work their way down my face, and I struggled to stifle the sobs that threatened, to keep Joe and Mary from hearing me. It felt like I was drowning. This was a familiar feeling. I'd been in this place so often in the last seven months. I had lived in this place, given in to despair, wanted it to take me, wondering what I had left to live for… but tonight it was different. Suddenly I didn't want despair to take me. I had an anchor. A beautiful, compassionate anchor, and I wanted to live. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to know Mateo more. If I died now, I would never have that chance. I desperately wanted that chance.

Why was that
? Three weeks ago I could barely come up with a reason to drag myself out of bed. Now I couldn't wait to get to school. From the first moment we had officially met and I had looked into his eyes, I had been drawn to him. Within days he had become my lifeline, and I could feel my soul respond. I tried to tell myself it was just because he was the kindest, most considerate and selfless person I'd ever known; that my heart, lost so long in darkness, needed his light. He seemed to sense that, and selflessly he allowed me to soak in it. But I knew it was more than that for me. I didn't just need him. I loved him. This thought made me a little crazy, because I was pretty sure he didn't love me back. He was careful around me; careful with what he said, and with just a few exceptions, careful not to touch me. Everything he did or said to me seemed to say
please don't get the wrong idea.

And that was just as well, or so I tried to convince myself. It scared me to think that he didn't love me back, but it scared me even more to think that he might. He deserved the best, and I was damaged goods. Hurt. Broken. Sad. Needy. Mateo should have better than me. He needed someone who could make him laugh and bring him joy. I had as much joy as the Grinch before Christmas right now. Maybe my heart was also two sizes too small. Maybe it would always be. As if that weren't enough, there was this huge irrational fear that me loving Mateo and him loving me was dangerous for him. The people I loved didn't seem to be able to survive. That thought was sobering. Should I stay away from Mateo for his sake? Could I?

I stood up, still clutching BearBear, and took a deep breath. With a soft kiss to his worn, fuzzy head, I placed him on my bed and closed the lid on the box. That was enough for one day. I crawled beneath my covers, clutched BearBear, and drifted back to sleep.