Perfectly Ridiculous (12 page)

“You're in luck. My honor is fine and not in need of defending. Regardless of what Libby thinks of me.”

“Would you touch my face again? That was sweet, and I want to take something good home from Argentina that doesn't come in the form of cotton bandages.”

I allow my fingers to gently graze his cheek and he winces. “The green of your eyes is even greener with the black eye. Very hot, but I'll take the regular green to have you not beaten to a pulp.”

He laughs again. “Stop it!”

“Were you robbed?”

“Pablo's stepfather found me.” He says it simply, as if he deserved the beating. “Something tells me Pablo's mother wasn't all too happy to find the little guy missing.”

“But he's okay?”

“Pablo's fine.”

I brush the backs of my fingers softly along his hand and marvel at how brave J.C. was through all this. He didn't know the law, but it didn't stop him from doing what was right. I honor him for that, and I wonder if he hadn't been here if I would have tried not to notice Pablo's bruise. If I would have run from the conflict because of Libby and her beliefs about me. In short, I wonder if J.C. wasn't sent here to show me what a hero looks like.

I've never been more myself and tried less with a guy, and it feels fantastic to actually be liked for who I am—but I have to keep in mind that it could be the head injury, am I right? He's changed my whole outlook on life in two days. I never want to struggle to be accepted again. Not with someone I consider a boyfriend.

Then I notice his expression. He's got that leaving look I've grown accustomed to.

“J.C., you didn't bring me all the way out here to tell me you're not coming back with me to the mission, right?”

He's silent, and I feel my eyes springing moisture. He takes my hand in his, which puts me at ease. “You'll be fine. I'll see you at school in a month and a half. You can find your own trouble without me. But I can't go back to the mission for obvious reasons. If Pablo's stepfather is around, Libby will get blamed for all of this. Plus how do I explain coming back from the clinic looking worse than when I went in?”

I grip his hand. “Please, J.C. You have to come back. You can just hide out in the house like you've been doing. I'd recognize Pablo's stepfather and I'd warn you.”

“I wanted to say goodbye to you in person. That's why I asked you out here. Six weeks and we'll be together again.”

“Libby doesn't like me, and you're the only thing that's made the work there bearable.”

“It's five days, and if I thought you were in any danger, I wouldn't leave.”

I grin at the idea but, against my better judgment, decide to complain more. “I'm not working with the kids. I'm in that kitchen all alone and I still have five days left. Can't you just convalesce in the kitchen like you've been doing? Maybe sneak me a peck on the cheek now and again?” I give him my best puppy dog eyes.

His eyebrows rise and fall. “That hurt. I do like the idea of you taking care of me, I'm not going to lie. But it's not safe for me to be seen at the mission. Pablo's stepfather doesn't know where I found Pablo or why I took him to the clinic, and that's best. In fact, he tried to accuse me of taking Pablo and hurting the boy myself. Luckily, Pablo had already shown them what happened and kept saying ‘Papa,' so I was free and clear. He trusted the officer right away, and he'd already told the nurse his story when I was with him. His bruises were too old to be from someone who took him that day regardless. I probably wasn't even in the country when they happened.”

“What's going to happen to Pablo?”

“He's safe. He's with the authorities, and they had a female police officer who was so nice to him. She brought him a stuffed animal, so he snuggled into her just like he did you and me. With all the Latino charm that kid has, he's going to have few troubles in life once he's away from this stepfather of his. I don't think Pablo's mom is actually married to the guy. She'll have to get rid of him or risk losing Pablo.”

“I'm so happy to hear it.”

“The reason I brought you out here is so that I could see your face before I left Argentina, and also I wanted to tell you what to say to Libby so that she doesn't know about any of this. Plus I told you I was going to call, and I wasn't about to ditch you after that tool didn't show up with the candy.”

J.C. still has hold of my hand, and right now I can't imagine leaving him here in a foreign hospital by himself. “I was angry that he didn't show up with the candy because it was a pattern. I do what I say I'm going to do, so maybe I expect too much of others.”

“I do what I say I'm going to do. Except I can't come back like I promised, so I wanted you to know why. There's no telling what that guy is capable of. He pummeled me when I left the clinic. Actually waited for me and had some idea I was there. The cops were right behind me and they arrested him, but not before the guy got his meaty fists on me from behind.”

“The cops had too many doughnuts?”

“I know, right? My grandmother is getting my flight home rescheduled, but I need to get back to town tomorrow. I can't run the risk of going back to the mission because if Pablo's stepfather sees me there, the mission could take the brunt of his rage, and we all know that would not end well.”

“For Libby or Pablo's stepfather?”

“Good point. If it's not too much to ask, I want you to call your friend, what's-his-name. The one who didn't show up. I want you to ask him to come and take me to Buenos Aires. He can pick up my stuff and the rental car and come get me.”

My joy dies. “I just told you he's not reliable, but if he does come, it will be in his own car. Maybe one of the other guys can take the rental back to the airport when they go.”

“That works for me. Besides, this guy won't let you down twice. Not when you tell him what happened. His country's honor is at stake. He has to know you don't dis a beautiful girl twice.”

I bypass his compliment in favor of worrying about Max's reliability. “What if you miss your flight? Max is always late.” Naturally, I don't mention the fact that it's totally weird to have two guys I've kissed by choice (Chase, my kindergarten crush, kissed me in some kind of funky mercy move in the school quad) in the same vehicle and capable of comparing notes.

“Yeah, Max. He can go by the mission, pick up my stuff, and not raise any suspicions with Libby. If Libby sees me like this, she'll know we were lying to her.”

“But my parents are in town. They could—”

“No parental units.” J.C. shakes his head.

“J.C., you're being ridiculous. Did you get hit in the head?”

“I did, actually. A couple of times, but this isn't the end for us, right? We're going to see each other in Malibu in a month and a half. We'll each go to the business student mixer, maybe dance or share some punch . . .”

“That would be nice.”

“I'm not meeting your parents looking like a thug on the bad end of a street fight. Plus I can't wear shoes because my foot looks diseased from a scorpion sting, so they might think I have some rare disease and assume it's something I could give to you. I think you'll agree that's not the best way to introduce myself to your parents, wouldn't you?”

“I can go back and get your stuff. I can drive you. I'll just turn in the rental car and get a shuttle or something back.”

“Yeah, and Libby will be more than likely to sign your scholarship paperwork with all that time off, won't she?”

“What about Claire?”

“Your chaperone?” he asks. “I want Max.”

“In a weird way, I think Libby wants me to get caught being up to something. Why would she send me out to pick you up all by myself if she didn't?”

“So you'll find Max? Here's my cell number. Give it to him and tell him I'll pay him whatever his time is worth.”

“You don't think that's . . . I don't know, kind of weird?”

“Weird? Why? He's from here. You know him. You won't vouch for me that my story is true?”

“Of course I will, but Max dumped me. At least I think he dumped me, I'm not exactly sure. What makes you think he'd want to do me a favor?”

“Leave that to me. He didn't dump you. He isn't reliable, right?”

“Well, I thought we had a romance and apparently we didn't, and he could have had the courtesy to tell me on Skype, but he waited and just ditched me one night in Argentina. I think.”

“So he's an idiot. He can still drive and he knows where the mission is. Two things in my favor. And if he thinks he's still your boyfriend, I'll set him straight on that account too. See? It's all good.”

“I don't know how to reach him,” I point out. “He never gave me his cell phone number.”

“Claire can email him on her smartphone. I'll bet she has a way to find him.”

“You have an answer for everything.”

“I know, isn't it great?” J.C. grins. “I've been waiting around all day. I had nothing to do but think, and this is the plan I came up with. A taxi would have to take me back to the mission. If one of you leaves the mission, it will only raise Libby's suspicions, and like I said, she's better off ignorant all the way around.”

“I was sort of hoping the stepfather was innocent.”

“Me too. Wait a minute, why?”

“Because he looked like a child abuser. I was thinking that made it too easy, the fact that he looked like what I pictured a child abuser to be.”

“I don't know if they have a version of our cop shows down here, but I guess TV gets it right sometimes. Though I know from my mother's practice, abusers come in all packages.”

“What if I can't find Max?”

“Then I guess you'll have to do it. At least bring my stuff here. Then I could catch a car to Buenos Aires, but I really don't want to take the chance, Daisy. If something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself.”

I nod.

“You'd better get back. Libby will be looking for you.”

Instinctively my body pulls closer to J.C.'s. It doesn't want to move. For the first time in my life, I think romance doesn't have to be so hard. Sometimes it blossoms out of a natural friendship and an inexplicable bond.

“You have to go, Daisy.”

I stare into his one good eye and still can't explain how I got here. How I feel such a loss after two days. He leans in toward me and gently presses his lips to mine. I kiss him back gently so as not to split his lip again and stand awkwardly. “How will I know you're okay?”

“I'll find a way to let you know. Do you have a pen?”

I dig through the drawer beside him and find a golf pencil, then write down his information. His cell phone, his home phone, his address, his Facebook name, his Skype account. Basically, any way he can possibly be tracked down, I now have it.

“There's a reason all this happened.”

I nod, unable to talk for fear I'll blubber.

“Call me the minute you get stateside.”

I press my lips to his one last time and suddenly feel nothing has ever been wrong in the world and never will be again. This is what it feels like to be loved back. I hope, because it's fantastic and sans drama.

My Life: Stop—July 8 and 9

Random factoid: Nice guys don't always finish last.

I was numb to the fear of entering Libby's lair. I felt no pain as I relived J.C.'s gentle kiss and heard his soft words again in my memory. But it was none of those things that made me believe J.C. is special. It was his actions, pure and simple. He stepped up to the plate when he had every reason not to. He overlooked the humiliation of calling Max because it was better for everyone if Max found his way back to the mission and kept Libby in the dark as to the dangers lurking just outside the compound.

I was dancing a waltz from a 1950s musical by the time I got to the mission's door. Holding on to J.C.'s secret has made me feel special and important, as if I'm a special agent on assignment. Anything I can do to steer clear of my reality is a bonus at this point. So important, in fact, that I didn't even want to tell Claire what I was up to, but that proved impossible since I had to reach Max, and she had the international cell phone that made emailing him possible. Because Claire has everything that makes life easier. I'd say, on average, her life has to be a good 99.8 percent easier than mine.

I emailed Max, and within an hour he emailed me back. (Go figure. Maybe he's feeling guilty.) He's picking up J.C.'s stuff and then J.C. Why now? Why does Max come through for me when it's the most awkward situation for me?

Guys. I will never understand them!

Libby's calling, gotta run.

So now it's morning. It doesn't seem like J.C.'s presence is missed by anyone but me, and since Libby is not all that interested in me, she never asked about J.C. But considering he was my only company in the cold cave, I miss him more than I could have imagined. And not in a romantic, pathetic way either. Just in an “I'm lonely and no one here likes me” way.

Claire and Libby seem to be besties for reasons I can't fathom. I actually hear Libby giggling at Claire's jokes and it's like a slap in the face. I know that's totally immature, like Claire can't be friends with her and friends with me, but hello! The woman has totally threatened my college education unless I meet her exacting standards.

Incidentally, I do realize that it's stupid to call my journal a travel journal. I could be anywhere. Coming through the beautiful but crowded center of Buenos Aires and passing the water and palm trees was the extent of the travel portion of my first international trip.

My fortunes do not change. Trouble follows me, and if I've learned anything about traveling, it's that I bring my luck with me. Which is a good lesson, I figure. It's going to save me a lot of money in the future, as I won't be traveling. I can just stay at home. I know it's not scriptural to believe in luck, and technically I don't, but I sure seem to have this thing I don't believe in and a lot of it.