Inquest (17 page)

He shifts on
the bed. He barely moves at all, and it might have been simple
coincidence, but his arm moves just far enough to press up against
mine. “Not alone,” he says.

More silence.
The noise of cars racing down freeways and bullets flying around
the TV screen suddenly becomes very annoying. I just want to hear
Milo.

“We could
always go together,” he finally says. “There would be a lot of
witnesses, so I doubt the Guardians would try anything. Anyway,
people seeing me at a dance will be more earth shattering than you
showing up. They’ll probably forget you’re even there.”

“It would
really piss Lance off, too,” I offer.

Milo’s mouth
twitches, almost smiling. “Most likely.”

My insides are
dancing with delight, but I haven’t said yes, yet. Seeing Lance
twisted up with jealousy would be satisfying, but it really doesn’t
sound like a good idea to put myself out there like that. Plus,
making Lance mad isn’t the reason I wanted Milo to ask me. I don’t
like it that they fight so much as it is. If either of them gets
hurt, I would never forgive myself.

Milo is
incredibly hard to figure out with his brooding, casual, sarcastic,
teasing mishmash of personality traits. I…think he likes me, but he
refuses to really show it. He always finds some way to joke or
tease his way out of any situation that feels even remotely
intimate. If all he wants is to be friends, I need to know that.
Not to mention, the last time I went to a dance, it was with Lance.
He’ll be there for sure, but it won’t be with me. I’m big enough to
admit that will hurt. I don’t really want to go to the dance, but I
do want Milo to ask me. Silently, I wait.

“Plus,” Milo
says quietly, the emotions he’s holding back from me quivering on
the point of breaking out, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a dress,
maybe even with your hair curled, or something. I’d like to see
that.”

Relief is
quickly overruled. “I don’t curl my hair,” I say abruptly.

Milo turns.
“Why not?”

“I just
don’t.”

I realize my
mistake as soon as he sits up. His slate grey eyes lock with mine.
“Why don’t you curl your hair?” The stubborn, relentless look in
his eyes is convincing. He is not going to let up. “Why?” he asks
again.

“I’m
not
curling my hair,” I say, just as unwavering as he
is.

He pauses for
a moment. “But you’ll go to the dance with me?”

“Yes,” I snap
without thinking.

Leaning back
against his pillow with a bored expression, Milo says, “I’m not
taking you unless you curl your hair.”

“What?”

“You heard
me.”

He is going to
regret this. I can be just as stubborn as he can. “Cut your hair,
then,” I demand.

“Huh?”

“Cut your
hair, and I’ll curl mine.” Let’s see how
he
likes being put
on the spot.

Wrong
again.

Milo shrugs.
“Okay.”

“Wait.
What?”

He runs his
fingers through his hair and lets it fall back down in a tangled
mess. “It is getting a bit long, isn’t it? The dance starts at
nine.”

Completely
unable to speak, I open and close my mouth several times without
uttering a single word. Milo leans back on his pillow and closes
his eyes. The movie plays on regardless of the fact that neither of
us is watching it anymore. I slump against the headboard in defeat.
How did he just do that?

“You know, if
we’re going to do this right, I should probably take you out to
dinner before the dance. I’ll pick you up at seven instead,” Milo
says. “Oh, and don’t forget you’ll need a dress.”

“A dress?” I
ask, though it sounds more like a squeak than actual words.

“It is a
formal dance.”

Oh crap, it
is. I haven’t worn a dress since…since my dad’s funeral. I don’t
even own a dress anymore.

“And, before
you ask,” Milo says, “I don’t do dress shopping. But you can take
my little sister with you, if you want. She loves that kind of
stuff.”

It takes a
moment for his words to really sink in. “You have a sister?”

“Yeah, Celia.
She just turned fifteen a few weeks ago.” His eyes are still closed
as he moves his arms behind his head. Content, and a little smug,
he looks as if he plans to stay there forever.

“You never
told me you had a sister.”

“You never
asked.”

“Why haven’t I
ever seen her at school?” I ask. Surely he’s not one of those jerks
that refuse to acknowledge his siblings at school.

“Celia goes to
a charter school for performing arts. She’s a really great
dancer.”

“Do you have
any other siblings?” I ask, glad to know he’s not a creep after
all. I still can’t believe he’s never mentioned his sister to
me.

Milo finally
opens his eyes. “Nope. Do you?”

“No, I’m an
only child,” I say. My mind starts working again and his off-handed
comment about his sister finally catches back up to me. “You want
me to take your sister shopping. So, you’ve told her about me?”

“Uh-huh. She’s
been bugging me for weeks to meet you. Just tell me what day you
want to go and we can pick her up from school, or you two can go
out this weekend. She’ll be pretty stoked.”

She knows Milo
has been hanging out with me, but if she’s excited to meet me…”So
you didn’t tell her about who I am, though?” There’s no way she’d
want to go shopping with me if she knew.

Milo surprises
me again. “No, she knows. She was a little worried at first, but we
talked about it, and she’s fine about us, now, although, she has
been feeling a little left out since I’ve been hanging out with
you. It sucks being at home with just the parents.”

Celia being
fine about “us” and Milo choosing to spend time with me over a
sister he obviously cares about very much is not lost on me. I feel
a little lightheaded suddenly, but I don’t let that stop me.

“I feel bad
that you’ve missed out on time with Celia. I didn’t mean to keep
you away from her.” And I really have. Milo leaves early to come
pick me up, comes to my room right after school to supposedly do
homework—not that he ever does—and doesn’t leave until late every
night.

“Celia
understands,” Milo says. His carefully concealed emotions aren’t
washing over me, but there is a tense vibration hovering around him
that he must not be aware of. “But maybe after you two get to know
each other some, you wouldn’t mind if she hung out with us once in
a while.”

“Of course,
Milo, I’d love that.”

His tension
vanishes completely as the corners of his mouth turn up. Eyes
closing again, Milo seems to sink into the bed with relief. I let
my own smile spring into existence. He was worried that I wouldn’t
want his little sister around. They must be very close. Sweet,
adorable, I just can’t think of the right word to describe Milo
caring that much about his little sister. It makes me want to curl
up next to him and pull his arms around me. Not only is Milo
willing to accept me, it would appear that Celia is too. Two down,
seven billion to go.

“Do your
parents know about me?” I ask suddenly.

Milo’s eyes
pop open. “Are you kidding me? We don’t talk much, normally. I’m
certainly not telling them about you.”

“Oh,” I say
dejectedly. I guess that was too much to hope for.

Pushing up
from his pillow, Milo looks at me. “It’s not because I’m hiding you
from them, or anything. Everyone at school already knows we’re
friends. It’s just that, my parents…they wouldn’t be able to handle
this. And they’d take it out on you. I don’t want that to
happen.”

I don’t really
know what to say. It was stupid to hope his parents, the ones who
treat him so badly, would welcome me into their home. My mom is, in
general, a pretty awful person, but she’s my only family. I hate
her for abandoning me, but I still miss her. I miss belonging to
someone.

Before I can
wallow too much, Milo’s hands grip my waist and pull me down to the
bed with him to finish watching the movie. “Celia’s free this
Saturday if you want to go shopping.”

“That sounds
great,” I say.

I don’t even
realize I’m lying on his shoulder until his arm curls around me.
The despair that had started to puddle inside me melts away. I
nestle against him feeling closer to complete than I have in a very
long time. It’s pretty far from Milo actually admitting to any
serious feelings for me, but he certainly knows how to make me feel
better.

Chapter 15

Sporting
Chance

I fell asleep
in Milo’s arms that night. If somebody’s car alarm hadn’t woken us
both up around midnight, we may not have woken up at all. It was
the latest Milo had ever stayed with me. He claimed it was worry
about Seekers that made him linger even after we woke up, but it
was the first night he hugged me before he left. Every night after
that, he stayed late and wrapped me up in his baggy
sweatshirt-clothed arms every time he came or left. Every hug eased
a little more of my doubts about him, and I didn’t resist.

This morning
is no exception. Celia stands by Milo’s car as he greets me with a
hug. It’s shorter than usual and he shoves his hands in his pockets
as soon as he pulls back. His quick glance over at Celia explains
his brisk greeting.

“Celia, Libby.
Libby, Celia,” Milo says.

Celia finally
steps away from the car and approaches me. “Hi, Libby. It’s nice to
meet you.”

“It’s nice to
meet you, too, Celia,” I say. “Are you ready for some serious
shopping?”

She grins just
like Milo. “Always.”

“Great, ‘cause
I really need some help today. I’ve never actually bought a dress
before. My mom always just picked them out for me,” I say.

“Wow, Milo,”
Celia says, looking at her brother, “you weren’t joking about
her.”

Milo nods and
slings one arm around her shoulder. “I wouldn’t lie to you about
something as serious as shopping, Celia. I know it’s practically
your entire life.”

She punches
him lightly in the gut. “It’s only about sixty percent of my life.
The other forty percent belongs to boys.”

“It better
not.”

“Whatever. Are
you gonna get outta here, or what? Libby and I have work to
do.”

More at ease
after his playful banter with Celia, Milo comes back to my side.
His hand lightly presses against the small of my back. He leans
close to me, and asks, “Are you sure you don’t want me to tag
along? This one can be a bit of a terror when it comes to dresses
and shoes.”

“I thought you
didn’t do dress shopping,” I say.

“Only under
extreme circumstances. This may qualify.” His mouth is so
tantalizingly close to my skin. It’s heartbreaking not to have him
move an inch or two closer and press his lips against my temple.
I’m tempted to just close the distance myself.

Celia is too
quick, though.

“Go, Milo. Go
play your video games, or crawl around in your Jeep. Go do whatever
it is nerds like you do and let us girls shop.”

“Jeep?” I ask,
turning to face Milo. “You’re not going rock crawling without me
are you?” I am instantly jealous that he would even consider
leaving me behind. Out in the hills is the only place I get to see
the real Milo. Out there he laughs and jokes, no sign whatsoever of
the shuffling nobody he pretends to be at school. I don’t want to
miss that.

Smiling at the
slight whine in my voice, Milo grabs my pouting chin. “No, I’m not
taking the Jeep out without you. I’m going to play a little
Call
of Duty
with some friends from back home, and maybe do some
research.”

I don’t even
have to ask what he’s going to research. Seekers. It’s what we’ve
spent all week doing. Without any luck whatsoever. The internet and
library didn’t hold a single clue. The Guardians are too careful
for that. I know who I could have called. He would have known the
answers, I’m sure. Lance’s dad lets him in on what secrets and
suspicions he can because he is so sure his son will follow in his
footsteps. I wanted to call Lance, but I didn’t. Even bringing up
the option pissed Milo off.

He thought I
was crazy given how Lance treats me at school. Maybe if I had told
him about Lance watching me and him stopping Angus, he would have
reconsidered, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. If I did,
I’m sure he would have heard the hope that Lance hasn’t completely
abandoned me in my voice. I’ve thought about calling Lance without
telling Milo a million times this week. Every time I pick up my
phone and try to dial my fingers seem to freeze up. Maybe that’s
for the best. If I’m wrong about Lance, my calling him will only
make things worse.

I know more
searching won’t do Milo any good, but if he wants to do something
that can only improve his study habits, I’m not going to stand in
his way. “Well, have fun with all that,” I say. “We’ll see you in a
little while.”

His expression
seems doubtful of my time estimate. Really, though, how hard can it
be to find a dress?

“You girls
have fun,” Milo says. He walks over to his little sister, pulls her
into a one armed hug and drops a kiss on the top of her head.
“Celia, go easy on her, okay?”

She sniffs
derisively and hugs him back. Then he walks over to me. I get a hug
with both arms, and very nearly a kiss on the top of my head as
well, but I think that might have been out of habit with his
sister, because he stops before actually making contact. I’m not
quick enough to suppress a sigh. I’m not sure how Milo interprets
the sigh, but he pulls me closer for a few wonderful seconds. And
when he does pull back his hand comes up to my cheek. My own hand
reaches up to cover his hand, my eyes locking with his. Smiling as
he trails his hand down my cheek, he turns his palm up to catch my
hand.