Safe and Sound (8 page)

 
What did you assume about Jack?
her
conscience chimed in. Lola made a face.

 
“
You
don’
t even know me
,” Lola reminded
him
.

 
Jack paused.
“
Right.
Anyway, she’s a sophomore. Pretty little blond with big brown eyes.” Lola scrutinized his
face and hair.
Jack laughed.
“Yeah.
She looks nothing like me, lucky kid.
She loves to sing and she has the sweetest voice.”

 
Lola was shocked by the depth of
feeling
she heard in his voice.
She wouldn’t have thought him capable of such feeling. One mor
e assumption she would have
gotten wrong.
She’d told him he didn’t know her. But she also didn’t know him.

 
“What’s her name?”

 
“Isabelle.”

 
She made a mental note to find out who Isabelle Forrester was.

 
“What exactly was I like last year, may I ask?
According to
you
, that is.
”

 
“You may.”

 
“But you won’t answer?”

 
“I can answer. I just don’t know if you want to hear it.
”

 
Lola pressed her lips together. “Go ahead.”

 
Jack glanced at her, one side of his mouth lifted. His eyes
gleam
ed in the dark with
wicked
intent.
“Okay. You thought yourself above others.”

  “
I never—“

 
“What am I like?” he interrupted.

 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 
“Oh, come on. Yes, you do. Tell me. I’m waiting,” he added when Lola said nothing.

 
“I don’t know anything about you.”

 
“But you thought you did, earlier,” he pressed.
“I could tell by the look on your face.”

 
Lola shifted. “Okay, fine. I thought things and I was wrong.
Same as you.
But
I never thought I was better than anyone.”

 
“Sure
,
Goody Two Shoes,” he mocked quietly.

 
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”
Frustrated, Lola turned her he
ad away, staring into the night
. Maybe she had been like that, but she was quickly learning it was wrong to do so.
With a few spiteful remarks
Roxanne had shown her that.

 
“So,
Lola
, what do you like to do?”

 
It was such an unoriginal,
normal
question Lola
gave a surprised laugh
.
Twice in one day, both in Jack’s presence.
Strange.

 
“What do I like to do?
” What did she like to do anymore? Last year that question would have had lots of answers: shopping, dancing, watching movies, hanging out with her friends. This year she had one answer.

 
“I like to write.”

 
Jack reared back.
“Really?”

 
“Yes,
really
.
Why is that so hard to believe?”

 
“What, like, sappy love stories?”

 
She felt her face heat up. “
No
. Like,
poems,
and stuff.” Lola
waited
for his laughter. It never came.

 
“Can I read one sometime?”

 
Lola froze. No one had ever asked to read her work; no one had ever
read
her work. Lola didn’t even know if anyone knew she
liked
to write.

 
“
If I can see one of your drawings.”

 
It was Jack’s turn to go still. “Uh…”

 
Lola nudged his shoulder. “
Fair is fair
.”

 
After a moment, he blew out a breath. “Okay.”

 
“But it can’t be one of those creepy ones you always draw.”

 
One side his mouth quirked up.
“Example?”

 
She shifted
, the rock digging into her sensitive flesh
. “You know, like demons and zombies and whatever else you draw at school.”

 
“So you’re a fan, are you?”

 
“Not exactly.”

 
“Yet you know my work.
Must be
a fan
.”

 
“Whatever.”

 
He leaned back and propped his head with his arms. Lola did the same. They watched the stars and an occasional plane
fly
overhead
in the sky. It was a comfortable
quiet
and Lola felt more at ease than she had in months.

 
She didn’t have to pretend everything was
okay;
she didn’t have to be on guard. Lola could just…
be
.
Though he’d never asked about her life at home, Lola still felt like he knew, and accepted, and didn’t judge.

 
“You can come here whenever you need to, Lola. I’ll be here,” Jack said after a long silence.

 
Those words warmed her
. She didn’t say anything, but a small smile took hold of her lips.
Lola didn’t feel so alone anymore.

4

 
Lola bolted upright in her bed. Her eyes shot to the clock and she moaned. She’d overslept. Lola rushed arou
nd the room, throwing on a
blue
shirt and jeans
. She quickly brushed her hair and teeth.

 
She
paced outside her mother’s bedroom door. If she didn’t get a ride, she would be late. She had her driver’s license, but there was only one vehicle and it was
Bob
’s. No way would he let her take it.

 
Lola couldn’t believe the luck she’d had last night.
She’d heard
Bob
snoring away in the bedroom
when she
’d
got
ten
home
after midnight
.
             

 
Now, because of her sleeping late, Lola was going to stir the beast before the beast was ready
to stir, which would make it so much worse
.

 
You should have known.

 
She chewed her lip as she stared at the cracked white paint of the door. There was one rule she knew better than to break: never distur
b them when the door was closed. But Lola co
uldn’t afford another detention
the very next day after getting her first ever.

 
Lola swallowed and hesitantly knocked on the door. There was no response so she knocked again. She heard
Bob
curse and the door flung open.

 
He glared at her. His thin hair stuck up in tufts and he had on a pair of boxers. Lola recoiled from the sight and smell of him.

 
“What?” he snapped, hands gripping either side of the door frame.

 
“I…I overslept and…” Lola gestured with her hands, avoiding his gaze. “I’m going to be late if I don’t get a ride. Can I please get a ride to school?”

 
Bob
moved so fast Lola had no time to react. He shoved her into the hallway.
“You little
moron
!
Can’t even get your
ass
to school on time.
God
damn
it!”

 
Lola stumbled and fell against the wall. “I’m sorry,” she got out through
lips numb with fear
.

 
Spittle flew from his mouth as he yelled, “You’re
gonna
be sorry!”

 
Lola flinched back, but she wasn’t fast enough. The crack of his hand against her fac
e jerked her head to the side.
She fell against the wall and put a hand to her face, the coolness of her palm at odds with the burning flesh.

  Her
breath left her in short gasps and she stared at the brown carpet, her body trembling. She stayed like that, waiting.

 
“Get your ass to the car.” He kicked the door open wider and went inside the bedroom.

 
Lola briefly closed her eyes. She grabbed her backpack from the floor. She didn’t look into the bedroom, didn’t check to see if her mother was awake and had witnessed what had just
happened. She was sure she had.

 
She hurried down the hallway with her head lowered. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. Lola carefully shut the front door behind her, the cool air stinging her already tender flesh.
She
forced her legs to keep moving though they wanted nothing more than
to
collapse beneath her.

 
Her
hand
s
shook and she didn’t get the black Buick’s door open until the second try. She gingerly sat on the dirty seat. Fast food wrappers and soda cans
crumpled
under her feet. It smelled like body odor and Lola put a hand over her nose and mouth.

 
As she
sat there waiting, a low moan
escaped
her. It sounded like a wounded animal and Lola was stunned that such a noise could come from her. Her face hurt, but inside was what hurt the most. Helplessness cocooned her. Lola felt so lost. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and let the sobs overtake her.

 
Footsteps reached her ears and she quickly wiped her eyes, being careful around her sore eye and cheek.

 
Bob
, dressed in a blue shirt with holes, red and black plaid pajama pants, and snow boots, climbed into the vehicle. He didn’t look at her, didn’t say a word.

 
Lola pressed her body against the door, trying to get as much space between them as possible without him noticing. She jumped from the car as soon as he pulled up to the curb.

 
She hurried up the steps that led to Morgan Creek High
, careful not to look at anyone.

 
Rachel waved at her from her locker.
She had on a short jean skirt and black blazer with knee-high boots.
Her short brown hair was a disarrayed mess that looked fashionable.

 
Lola waved back, but kept walking. She unlocked her locker, shoved her backpack inside, and headed for the art room.

 
“Lola! Wait up.” Rachel fell into step beside her, offering a bright smile.
“
How was detention? Mr. Welsh is such a jerk.”

 
“It wasn’t so bad.” An image of Jack’s mocking smile floated through her head. Lola felt something weird in the pit of her stomach and shook her head.

 
“
I’m glad you survived
.
”
Rachel offered a smile Lola didn’t return.
“
So, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out this
weekend?
My family is going to some
dumb movie Saturday night
I refuse to go to. We haven’t hung out forever.
A sleepover would be fun. What do you think?
Want to?” Rachel spoke
quickly, her words jumbling together
.

 
Lola looked at Rachel, shocked by the invitation.
Rachel looked so hopeful. Maybe she could have a night with no worries, maybe she could forget for a while.
You can’t.

 
Rachel leaned closer, eyes widening.
“
What happened to your face?”

 
Lola’s pulse picked up and she averted her face.
“Nothing.
Why?”