Shadows (22 page)

I
pocketed
the
money
into
my
jeans
without
looking
at
the
amount;
she
always
gave
me
too
much
in
the
first
place.
“Thanks,”
I
mumbled.

She
leaned
forward,
a
twinkle
in
her
eyes.
“So…this
morning
I
saw
something
interesting.”

God
only
knows
with
her.
I
smiled.
“What?”

“Have
you
noticed
that
there
are
two
kids
about
your
age
next
door?”

My
inner
golden
retriever
kicked
in
and
my
ears
perked
up.
“Really?”

“You
haven’t
been
outside,
have
you?”
She
smiled.
“I’d
thought
for
sure
you’d
be
all
over
that
disgusting
flower
bed
by
now.”

“I
plan
on
it,
but
the
boxes
aren’t
unpacking
themselves.”
I
gave
her
a
pointed
look.
I
loved
the
woman,
but
leave
it
to
her
to
somehow
forget
that
part.
“Anyway,
back
to
the
kids.”

“Well,
one
is
a
girl
who
looks
about
your
age,
and
there’s
a
boy.”
She
grinned
as
she
stood.
“He’s
a
hottie.”

A
tiny
piece
of
egg
caught
in
my
throat.
It
was
seriously
gross
to
hear
Mom
talking
about
boys
my
age.
“Hottie?
Mom,
that’s
just
weird.”

Mom
pushed
off
from
the
counter,
picked
up
her
plate
from
the
table,
and
headed
to
the
sink.
“Honey,
I
might
be
old,
but
my
eyes
are
still
working
fine.
And
they
were
really
working
earlier.”

I
cringed.
Double
gross.
“Are
you
turning
into
a
cougar?
Is
this
some
sort
of
midlife
crisis
I
need
to
be
concerned
about?”

Rinsing
off
her
plate,
she
glanced
over
her
shoulder.
“Katy,
I
hope
you’ll
make
an
effort
to
meet
them.
I
think
it
would
be
nice
for
you
to
make
friends
before
school
starts.”
Pausing,
she
yawned.
“They
could
show
you
around,
yes?”

I
refused
to
think
about
the
first
day
of
school,
new
kid
and
all.
I
dumped
my
uneaten
eggs
in
the
garbage.
“Yeah,
it
would
be
nice.
But
I
don’t
want
to
go
banging
on
their
door,
begging
them
to
be
my
friend.”

“It
wouldn’t
be
begging.
If
you
put
on
one
of
those
pretty
sundresses
you
wore
in
Florida
instead
of
this.”
She
tugged
on
the
hem
of
my
shirt.
“It
would
be
flirting.”

I
glanced
down.
It
said
MY
BLOG
IS
BETTER
THAN
YOUR
VLOG
.
There
wasn’t
a
thing
wrong
with
it.
“How
about
I
show
up
in
my
undies?”

She
tapped
her
chin
thoughtfully.
“That
would
definitely
make
an
impression.”

“Mom!”
I
laughed.
“You’re
supposed
to
yell
at
me
and
tell
me
that’s
not
a
good
idea!”

“Baby,
I
don’t
worry
about
you
doing
anything
stupid.
But
seriously,
make
an
effort.”

I
wasn’t
sure
how
to
‘make
an
effort.’

She
yawned
again.
“Well,
honey,
I’m
going
to
catch
up
on
sleep.”

“All
right,
I’ll
get
some
good
stuff
at
the
store.”
And
maybe
mulch
and
plants.
The
flower
bed
outside
was
hideous.

“Katy?”
Mom
had
stopped
in
the
doorway,
frowning.

“Yeah?”

A
shadow
flickered
over
her
face,
darkening
her
eyes.
“I
know
this
move
is
hard
for
you,
especially
before
your
senior
year,
but
it
was
the
best
thing
for
us
to
do.
Staying
there,
in
that
apartment,
without
him…It’s
time
we
started
living
again.
Your
dad
would
have
wanted
that.”

The
lump
in
my
throat
I
thought
I’d
left
in
Florida
was
back.
“I
know,
Mom.
I’m
fine.”

“Are
you?”
Her
fingers
curled
into
a
fist.
The
sunlight
coming
through
the
window
reflected
off
the
gold
band
around
her
ring
finger.

I
nodded
quickly,
needing
to
reassure
her.
“I’m
okay.
And
I’ll
go
next
door.
Maybe
they
can
tell
me
where
the
store
is.
You
know,
make
an
effort.”

“Excellent!
If
you
need
anything,
call
me.
Okay?”
Mom’s
eyes
watered
on
another
long
yawn.
“I
love
you,
honey.”

I
started
to
tell
her
that
I
loved
her,
too,
but
she
disappeared
upstairs
before
the
words
were
out
of
my
mouth.

At
least
she
was
trying
to
change,
and
I
was
determined
to
at
least
try
and
fit
in
here.
Not
hide
in
my
room
on
my
laptop
all
day
like
Mom
was
afraid
I’d
do.
But
mingling
with
kids
I’d
never
met
wasn’t
my
thing.
I’d
rather
read
a
book
and
stalk
my
blog
comments.

I
bit
my
lip.
I
could
hear
my
dad’s
voice,
his
favorite
phrase
encouraging
me,
“Come
on,
Kittycat,
don’t
be
a
bystander.”
I
squared
my
shoulders.
Dad
had
never
let
life
pass
him
by…

And
asking
about
the
nearest
store
was
an
innocent-enough
reason
to
introduce
myself.
If
Mom
was
right
and
they
were
my
age,
maybe
this
wouldn’t
turn
out
to
be
such
an
epic
fail
of
a
move.
This
was
stupid,
but
I
was
doing
it.
I
hurried
across
the
lawn
and
across
the
driveway
before
I
chickened
out.

Hopping
onto
the
wide
porch,
I
opened
the
screen
door
and
knocked,
then
stepped
back
and
smoothed
the
wrinkles
out
of
my
shirt.
I’m
cool.
I
got
this.
There
is
nothing
weird
about
asking
for
directions.

Heavy
footsteps
came
from
the
other
side,
and
then
the
door
was
swinging
open
and
I
was
staring
at
a
very
broad,
tan,
well-muscled
chest.
A
naked
chest.
My
gaze
dropped
and
my
breath
sort
of…stalled.
Jeans
hung
low
on
his
hips,
revealing
a
thin
line
of
dark
hair
that
formed
below
his
navel
and
disappeared
under
the
band
of
the
jeans.

His
stomach
was
ripped.
Perfect.
Totally
touchable.
Not
the
kind
of
stomach
I
expected
on
a
seventeen-year-old
boy,
which
is
how
old
I
suspected
he
was,
but
yeah,
I
wasn’t
complaining.
I
also
wasn’t
talking.
And
I
was
staring.

My
gaze
finally
traveling
north
again,
I
noted
thick,
sooty
lashes
fanning
the
tips
of
his
high
cheeks
and
hiding
the
color
of
his
eyes
as
he
looked
down
at
me.
I
needed
to
know
what
color
his
eyes
were.

“Can
I
help
you?”
Full,
kissable
lips
turned
down
in
annoyance.

His
voice
was
deep
and
firm.
The
kind
of
voice
accustomed
to
people
listening
and
obeying
without
question.
His
lashes
lifted,
revealing
eyes
so
green
and
brilliant
they
couldn’t
be
real.
They
were
an
intense
emerald
color
that
stood
out
in
vibrant
contrast
against
his
tan
skin.

“Hello?”
he
said
again,
placing
one
hand
on
the
doorframe
as
he
leaned
forward.
“Are
you
capable
of
speaking?”

I
sucked
in
a
sharp
breath
and
took
a
step
back.
A
wave
of
embarrassment
heated
my
face.

The
boy
lifted
an
arm,
brushing
back
a
wavy
lock
of
hair
on
his
forehead.
He
glanced
over
my
shoulder,
then
back
to
me.
“Going
once…”

By
the
time
I
found
my
voice,
I
wanted
to
die.
“I…I
was
wondering
if
you
knew
where
the
closest
grocery
store
is.
My
name
is
Katy.
I
moved
next
door.”
I
gestured
at
my
house,
rambling
like
an
idiot.
“Like
two
days
ago—”

“I
know.”

Ooooo-kay
.
“Well,
I
was
hoping
someone
would
know
the
quickest
way
to
the
grocery
store
and
maybe
a
place
that
sold
plants.”

“Plants?”

For
some
reason,
it
didn’t
sound
as
though
he
was
asking
me
a
question,
but
I
rushed
to
answer
anyway.
“Yeah,
see,
there’s
this
flower
bed
in
front—”

He
said
nothing,
just
cocked
a
brow
with
disdain.
“Okay.”

The
embarrassment
was
fading,
replaced
by
a
growing
surge
of
anger.
“Well,
see,
I
need
to
go
buy
plants—”

“For
the
flower
bed.
I
got
that.”
He
leaned
his
hip
against
the
doorframe
and
crossed
his
arms.
Something
glittered
in
his
green
eyes.
Not
anger,
but
something
else.

I
took
a
deep
breath.
If
this
dude
cut
me
off
one
more
time…My
voice
took
on
the
tone
my
mother
used
when
I
was
younger
and
was
playing
with
sharp
objects.
“I’d
like
to
find
a
store
where
I
can
buy
groceries
and
plants.”

“You
are
aware
this
town
has
only
one
stoplight,
right?”
Both
eyebrows
were
raised
to
his
hairline
now
as
if
he
were
questioning
how
I
could
be
so
dumb,
and
that’s
when
I
realized
what
I
saw
sparkling
in
his
eyes.
He
was
laughing
at
me
with
a
healthy
dose
of
condescension.

For
a
moment,
all
I
could
do
was
stare
at
him.
He
was
probably
the
hottest
guy
I’d
ever
seen
in
real
life,
and
he
was
a
total
douche.
Go
figure.
“You
know,
all
I
wanted
was
directions.
This
is
obviously
a
bad
time.”

One
side
of
his
lips
curled
up.
“Anytime
is
a
bad
time
for
you
to
come
knocking
on
my
door,
kid.”

“Kid?”
I
repeated,
eyes
widening.

A
dark,
mocking
eyebrow
arched
again.
I
was
starting
to
hate
that
brow.

“I’m
not
a
kid.
I’m
seventeen.”

“Is
that
so?”
He
blinked.
“You
look
like
you’re
twelve.
No.
Maybe
thirteen,
but
my
sister
has
this
doll
that
kinda
reminds
me
of
you.
All
big-eyed
and
vacant.”

I
reminded
him
of
a
doll
?
A
vacant
doll?
Warmth
burned
in
my
chest,
spreading
up
my
throat.
“Yeah,
wow.
Sorry
to
bother
you.
I
won’t
be
knocking
on
your
door
again.
Trust
me.”
I
started
to
turn,
leaving
before
I
caved
to
the
rampant
desire
to
slam
my
fists
into
his
face.
Or
cry.

“Hey,”
he
called
out.

I
stopped
on
the
bottom
step
but
refused
to
turn
around
and
let
him
see
how
upset
I
was.
“What?”

“You
get
on
Route
2
and
turn
onto
U.S.
220
North,
not
South.
Takes
you
into
Petersburg.”
He
let
out
an
irritated
breath,
as
if
he
were
doing
me
a
huge
favor.
“The
Foodland
is
right
in
town.
You
can’t
miss
it.
Well,
maybe
you
could.
There’s
a
hardware
store
next
door,
I
think.
They
should
have
things
that
go
in
the
ground.”