From Where I Watch You (17 page)

He eyes me and nods before he lets out an irritated sigh. “Sure. Kell Bells?”

Kellen starts telling me what to do but I already know and I’m not listening to her. I’ve watched them paint and I know how to do it. I don’t need anyone to tell me.

I take the brush and dip it, making sure to leave a half-inch of brush showing, like Dad told Kellen.

My hand is shaky but I set the brush down on the wood like I’ve seen my sister do. I smile because its fun and I look up at my Dad. His arms are folded and he watches my hand like I could stab someone with the paintbrush.

“Same direction your sister went, Kara. Nice and easy.”

I nod and it looks good to me, but when I go to dip the brush again, it slips and bounces off the edge of the can, splattering paint everywhere and sinking into the bottom of the can. Only the top of the handle pokes out of the paint.

“Dammit, Kara, that’s enough—you’re done! Go get yourself cleaned up.”

17.
Break it all into pieces.

..........................................................

“Hey!”

When I look up, there’s Justine, already sitting down beside me, already lighting up a smoke. She sucks down a big drag. “Well, that was fun! He is a prick and he deserves that, even though I’ve worked for much worse.” Ash falls from her cigarette as she exhales. With her other hand she wipes under her eyes.

“Were you crying? Did you hear what I said to Sniff?”

She’s smiling, but wiping her eyes again. Movement catches my eye. Jason walks from around the corner of the store and stands there, watching us, probably waiting to tell Dickhead, so Justine will wind up fired.

“I heard you—all of us did. I laughed so much the tears just poured out. Good Lord, you only told him what we all want to say. Course now you’re on my shit list because I won’t be seeing you anymore.”

“I’ll visit, Justine.”

Jason turns and looks at us again before he heads inside. Crap, I better get out of here.

“We both know you’ll never come in again. Sniff will meet you at the door and tell you to scoot the fuck on out, just like he does for the people who bounce checks.” She takes another drag. “So, tomorrow’s the day of your big trip?”

“Yup.”

“Your mama still doesn’t know?”

“Nope.”

“Listen, take my number and call me if you need anything. I’m giving you my pepper spray.” She pulls a small bottle from her purse and gives me a quick demo on how to use it. “Oh shit, I almost forgot.” She fishes for something else in her pocket and hands it to me. “Here you go!”

“Where did you get this?” I whisper. I find myself staring at a blue-gray envelope. I don’t want her to suspect anything so I take a breath to calm myself down. “Justine?”

She stubs out her cigarette before answering. “Found it at my checkout stand about an hour ago. Open it! Maybe it’s a love letter from that Charlie who gives you the twinkle in your eye.”

An hour ago I wasn’t even there. Someone knows my schedule. Knows where and when I work.

“It showed up when I ran back to pee. When I came back, voilà.” She waves her perfectly manicured nails over the envelope. “There it was. Woulda given it to you when you came in but I forgot.”

“Was Charlie in? Before I came to work?”

“No idea. All I know is it just showed up.”

I stuff the note in my pocket. I sit there with her, unsure of what to do, where to go. I have to tell her about the stalker, about the notes I’m getting. She’ll know what I should do.

“Justine, I . . .”

She gives me one last squeeze before she heads inside. I watch, mad at myself for not telling her and also for feeling a weird sadness that I no longer belong to Crockett’s and all its gourmet pretentiousness.

Justine turns to wave and blow a kiss, and I wish my own mother would listen to me the way she does. Just once.

TEN MINUTES LATER I
creep into the backdoor of the café. The note sits, red-hot, in my pocket and I want to run upstairs. But as difficult as it is, I decide to hang out and be extra cheerful to Mom so she won’t ground me for life when I get back from the contest. Maybe then one day she’ll finally remember me as a good girl, not the one who ran off to another state without permission.

When I look out into the café, I’m surprised because Noelle’s sitting out there—not with Mason, but with Noah Bender, the guy in the letterman jacket. I quickly sit down at the counter, back turned, because neither of them has noticed me yet.

Mom slides a coffee across the counter to me. “Why aren’t you working?”

“I don’t work today.”

“Hmm.” She stares at me, nodding, and it’s hard to keep the eye contact. “Your schedule says that you do. So where were you then?”

“Um, they had too many clerks so I got sent home because I, uh, told Justine I had cramps.”

Seconds tick away and her silence makes me think she found out that Dickhead almost fired me.

“Well then. What a blessed gift of an afternoon you’ve been given. So are you baking? Charlie’s in back.” She smiles when I reflexively look toward the kitchen door. “Why don’t you go say hi? He’s been asking about you. Have you changed your mind about him?”

“Changed my mind about what, Mom?” I act like I have no clue what she means, but I’m not sure how to answer this even to myself.

“Kara, he likes you and you like him, right?”

“Mom!” I whisper.

“What, sweetie? He’s a doll. I see a lot of young men come in here with their girlfriends and they don’t look at them the way he looks at you. Now that doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want with him. You know I’ll not condone sins of the flesh. If—”

“Mom!” I hiss again, cutting her off. “Stop trying to play matchmaker. Isn’t that God’s job anyway?”

Bonus points. The smile that spreads across her face confirms it.

She pulls a fake zipper over her lips as she bends over to whisper in my ear. “You’re right, sweetheart. Everything is in His hands. I won’t say anymore!” With that, she twirls away.

A FEW MINUTES LATER
Noah gets up and leaves, so I go sit with Noelle.

“Hey.” Her voice is tired, unenthusiastic.

“Why was Noah sitting with you?” I ask.

“No reason. I saw him walk by, so I banged on the window and told him to come in.” Noelle squints at me. “Hey, you look different. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

She stares at my face. “No, not nothing. Something’s different.” Now she’s interested. The sparkle is back.

I roll my eyes and sip my latte.

She slaps her hand down on the table and whispers, “You’ve done it? With Charlie?”

“Wow, no, and can you lower your voice, please?” I take a peek at my cell even though I know there aren’t any messages. “And for your information, I just kissed him.”

“Oh hell.” She takes out her nail file and gets busy on her thumbnail. “Okay, well, it’s a start.”

“We had a fight.”

She scowls. “Why? God, Kar, why would you fight with him? He’s a great guy. And he’s hot now. Not all scrawny and skinny and—”

“It was about Hayden. I think Charlie saw me kissing him.”

Noelle’s eyes bulge. “You did what?” she asks, the scowl now wrestling with a smile.

“Hayden kissed me and Charlie saw, and he wasn’t happy.”

“Well, no shit. What the hell are you kissing Hayden for, Kar?”

“Hayden is . . .” I still feel like I have to defend him to her and I don’t know why that hasn’t changed. “You know I’ve always had a crush on him. It just happened. I—”

“And I’ve always had a serious hard-on for the bartender at the Moon, but I’d never actually let him stick his tongue in my mouth because he’s disturbed. Just like Hayden.” She grabs her head and massages her temples. “I need aspirin. Did he—and I mean Charlie—do anything else? Touch your boobs or try to get into your pants or anything?”

I sigh. “Of course not. We were outside.”

When I look up, there’s Kellen—standing right behind Noelle, almost leaning on her shoulder. Her mouth is open a bit, her lower lip extended slightly, just like how my dad used to look when he was concentrating on something. She stares past me. It’s as if Kellen’s just another customer in the café, but no one sees her, not even Mom. Then she’s gone.

“Subject change, please,” I tell Noelle.

“Fine. Will you help me cook tomorrow? Maybe bake some cookies, too? Mason’s parents are out of town and we’re having a little get together. I’m actually in the mood to make some food instead of ordering pizza.”

“I leave tomorrow. For the contest.”

“What contest?”

My jaw drops. I stare at her in disbelief. She has no clue what I’m talking about.

She shrugs dramatically, emphasizing her cluelessness. “Kara? What? Oh.”

“Are you so self-absorbed you’ve forgotten the biggest event of my whole life? I can’t believe it.”

Noelle closes her eyes and massages her temples and I think maybe an apology is coming. But I can tell by how she exhales that it won’t happen. More than likely she’s wondering how she’ll manage anything in the kitchen for her party if I’m not there.

I feel myself clenching up. “Maybe you could be a real friend and stop ignoring the stuff that matters to me, because there isn’t much of it.”

“You know, Kar,” she replies while she grabs her purse and stands. “You’re the one ignoring me these days, for Charlie and that psycho.” She takes two steps toward the door before turning back to me. “Good luck with your contest.”

Then she’s out the door and I’m not even mad. I just don’t care anymore. Looking around the café, I have a weird feeling. Maybe one of these people is writing the notes. But I don’t know any of them, and they don’t know me. The only people who do know me have been around forever. And even they only know pieces of me.

UPSTAIRS IN THE APARTMENT,
I feel restless, wishing it were time to leave for the airport. I strip and climb into the shower, letting the steamy water relax muscles that have been tense since I received the envelope and even tenser since Noelle stomped off, but it doesn’t really help.

Fresh and clean, pajama pants and a T-shirt on, I shove in my earbuds, set the iPod to shuffle, and start packing. Thankfully I don’t have to take much: clothes, personal stuff, and my favorite decorator tools—plus, of course, my designs and recipes. Snowflake Sugar will provide everything else, all of the things I can’t afford to buy at Hill Kitchen.

Mom left a note: lasagna in the freezer. I pop it in the microwave and watch TV while it cooks. I grab a quilt from the ottoman and when I turn around, there’s a shimmery mass that turns into Kellen. She’s not even there long enough for me to tell her to get lost, and tonight I just can’t be bothered with her.

I move to the window and think about the note in my pocket. I think about what Mom said about Charlie and how he isn’t like other guys. Really, he’s too good for me.

Noelle has never asked me why I hate Kellen so much. She’s never asked. But Charlie has asked, over and over. He’s the only one who has.

I peek out the window to see if Charlie’s bike is still there, tied to the vine maple like it is when he works. When I see it, I pick up my cell and text him.

If u want 2 no, come 2 my door now.

I creep downstairs, hoping to hear him knock, but scared I will.

Knock, knock.

“Hey.” He nods once when I open the door. “Your mom says I can take my break right now.”

I remember his face when he was so angry with me and when he stared up at my window. “Um, I’m ready to tell you. About Kellen. About what happened.”

June: Thirteen-Year-Old
Carrot’s
Kara’s Summer
Fun
Before High School

I read a little before bed, but I must have fallen asleep pretty fast because I wake up sometime later with the book on my pillow. With the Fourth of July a couple of days away, people are shooting off fireworks down the street, even though it’s illegal. A red flash lights up my room at the same time I hear a creak out in the hall. Kellen must be home. I turn over to watch out the window while I try to fall back asleep.

I hear the creak again, the familiar warning that someone is about to enter my room. It’s not like Kellen to come in and tell me she’s home. She only tells me when she’s sneaking out that I better cover for her or she’ll kick my ass.

The old wood floor groans at the end of my bed.

Someone is in my room.

My heart starts to flutter and then it’s beating in my ears. It must be Kellen, of course. I feel like the small tremors running through my body are now transferring to the bed, making it shake as I try to lie there and pretend to sleep. There’s no sound but the popping of fireworks and the wild thudding in my chest. The floor right next to my bed groans. The bed creaks and someone sits down and I hope it’s Mom, coming back early. But I know it’s not Mom. Or Kellen.