Wraith (12 page)

“You?”

He swung back and forth for a moment and then stood and stretched, running a hand over the thick, curling hair on his face. “Shaving. At least once a week.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s your resolution?”

“Yeah.” He laughed with me. “My mom hates it. I thought maybe I would do something for someone else.”

I stood next to him and narrowed my eyes as I considered his scruffy jaw.

“What?” he asked.

“Will it be gone next time I see you?” I asked.

“Yes. Tomorrow…well, today. It’ll be gone today.”

Courageous under the dim porch lights I removed my glove and tentatively motioned to his face. He granted permission by jutting his chin forward and I cupped the bottom of his jaw, stroking the fine hairs covering his face with my thumb.

“It’s softer than I thought,” I said, dropping my hand like it was on fire.

His hand caught mine and he squeezed. “Happy New Year, Jane.”

“Happy New Year.”

W
HEN I WAS THREE
years old, my mother and I went to the grocery store. I don’t have many memories from that age, but I do recall standing in the middle of the automatic doors on a hot summer day, feeling the air conditioning pour out while my mom talked to another woman. She also made a big deal of pointing out the little girl with this woman who wore a shimmery Cinderella costume, including glittery blue shoes. I remember looking at my own shoes, dingy plastic flip flops, and coveting hers immediately. The first thing she said to me was, “I have more princess shoes at home. Do you want to come over and see them? I have yellow Belle ones, and green Tinkerbell ones, and red for Snow White and…”

I remember gaping at her, fascinated by the sheer amount of words that left her mouth in such a rush. That girl’s name was Grace and we would be in pre-school together. Little did I know, she would end up being my best friend.  

That was 14 years ago, and now Grace and I were sitting on my bed. Well, I was sitting, she was stretched across the bed, pajama-clad legs dangling off the side, ignoring the fact she was lying on candy bar wrappers and at least two magazines.

“Get off the potato chips!” I said, tugging the bag from under her elbow.

She moved just enough to release it, but was too busy flipping the pages of my yearbook to care.

“What about him?” she asked, pointing to picture of a kid in my geometry class.

“Um…no.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m pretty sure he’s gay.”

“What? Why?” she asked.

“Because,” I took the book from her and flipped two pages further and pointed at a kid in the third row of photos, “this is his boyfriend.”

Grace peered at the picture. “No. Way.”

I heaved off the bed and crossed the room. “I hate this song,” I said, thumbing through my iPod to change the music. I walked past the corner Evan usually occupied and wondered where he went after I banished him for the night.

Grace had come down for the weekend to visit. We’d spent the day shopping in the area near my parents’ gallery before eating out at a tapas restaurant. Luckily, her parents had no issues with her having a car, and she had been driving a small Toyota for the last year. At home, it didn’t take her long to find the yearbook on my bookshelf. The heavy book was from the year before—I wasn’t even in it since I missed picture day at the beginning of the year.

“How about this guy? He’s cute.”

I dropped back on the bed, bouncing the mattress under my weight. Holy crap. It was Connor. He must have taken the picture before he left school last fall. I snorted. “Yeah, that’s a no, also.”

“Why? He’s really cute.” She actually stroked his picture.

Yes, he was. “Yeah.”

I picked up a magazine. “So, how’s Drew?”

Grace looked up with a dreamy expression. Drew was her boyfriend, and they had been together for two years. They were joined at the hip. He was out of town with family for the holidays, which was the only way I got her to come for the entire weekend.

“He’s good.” Her freckled nose wrinkled when she said it and her neck turned a little pink.

I’d noticed the ring on her finger earlier, but hadn’t said anything. “Is that new?”

She held out her hand and I analyzed the ring. It was made of silver and wrapped around her finger like a vine.

“He gave it to me for Christmas.”

I fingered it, pushing it around to see all sides. “It’s really pretty.”

“Thanks,” she said withdrawing her hand. She settled her brown eyes on mine. “Come on, you have to like someone at school. Tell me.”

I blinked, breaking contact. I felt guilty keeping secrets from Grace. We’d been best friends since that day in the grocery store, but I couldn’t tell her about Evan. No one could know. I’d learned from that mistake, but there was no reason not to confess my crush on Connor.

“Well, there is a guy…” I lingered, going for dramatic effect.

“Shut up! I knew it. Who?” She shoved the yearbook at me.

“Believe it or not it was bachelor number two.” I turned the page and pointed my finger at a younger, much less serious-looking Connor in the book. I studied the picture closer. He may have been stoned.

“Oh! Yeah, not surprised. Like I said, he’s hot.” She inspected the photograph for a second longer. “So what’s going on with him? Have you made a move?”

“No!” I said, louder than necessary. Grace was fearless. Drew was two years older than us, but she was the one who asked him out in the first place. “We are friends, though,” I confessed. “And he’s a year older now. He looks better than that, believe it or not.”

“Are you regular ‘friends’ or are you we-really-want-to-hump-each-other-with abandon ‘friends’? There’s a difference and I need to know.”

My face burned and I punched her in the arm. “Grace!”

She shoved me back. “Ow! That’s gonna bruise, and oh my god! You totally want to hump him!”

“Shut up!” I said, faking my rage because I definitely wanted more than friendship but less than, well, humping. For now. “He kind of almost kissed me the other night. On New Year’s Eve.”

“Almost? What does that even mean?”

I sighed. “He was drunk. And I was afraid he didn’t mean it.” I examined my hands. “I kinda freaked out, but it was still good.”

“So you chickened out.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

I tried to act offended, but it didn’t work. She knew me too well. “Yeah, I chickened out.”

“He likes you back.”

“Maybe.” I twisted the thin flannel of my plaid pajama pants between my fingers. “I don’t know.” And I didn’t. He seemed like he liked me, but what did I know? He could just be a major flirt. I’d seen him with Allison, but when he was with me it was different. I rolled my eyes at myself. I’m sure Allison thought it was different with her, too.

“Guys suck. You should just ask him.” She pulled her hair out of the elastic band. I walked over to the dresser and picked up my hair brush, handing it to her before I sat back on the bed.

“No. It’s just…it’s complicated.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You know I don’t believe in wasting time. If you like him, go for it. Who can it hurt?”

I knew the answer.
I
could get hurt. But Grace didn’t know how vulnerable I was these days. I wasn’t the strong girl she knew from before. I was the girl who saw things, and cut off all my hair, and was attracted to boys who vandalized property. “I’m playing it by ear for now. Okay?”

She stared at me for a moment, but her face softened and she backed down. “Okay, but I expect updates.”

“Updates…yeah I can do updates.” But it was a lie, one more to go on top of all the other lies. Connor and I were too twisted—too meshed. There was no way to tell if he liked me for me or if he just wanted someone to confide in. Plus, there were other girls, like Allison, vying for his attention, and there was no way I could compete with that.

I reached for the bag of chips and shoved a handful in my mouth before swallowing it all down with soda. “So what did you get Drew for Christmas?”

“Oh, my god! You won’t believe it!” Grace started, and I lay back on my bed listening to my best—living—friend talk about the boy she loved.

S
KIRTING AROUND THE GUY
in front of me, I dropped my brushes into the sink and washed them carefully. Winter term had started, and in Art we had moved from drawing to painting, which was awesome, but required a bit more prep and clean up during class.

I felt a nudge on my shoulder, and looked up to see the profile of Connor’s face. His clean-shaven, smooth, angular face. A smile crept across my lips, but I didn’t speak. I wasn’t exactly sure of the protocol here.

We’d been back at school for three days, and this was the closest he had come to acknowledging me. He hadn’t stopped his staring, although now it wasn’t filled with hostility as much as amusement or interest perhaps, but we hadn’t spoken since New Year’s Eve. I could have been angry or upset, but I wasn’t. I hadn’t decided how I wanted to handle this, either. The two of us publicly announcing a friendship or anything else at school would have been certain drama, and neither of us wanted the attention.

I definitely didn’t. Being a freak was bad enough. Being a freak with a psychopathic, albeit hot, friend was beyond social suicide.

So for now, we stood side by side, running our brushes under the stream of water for a couple of minutes before he shook off the excess water into the sink and returned the brushes into their container on the counter. I swear there was an intentional foot graze. By him, not me. Ducking my head, I bit my lip to keep hidden the wide grin threatening to rip across my face.

The water turned scalding and I jumped, rushing to make it cooler. Another classmate took Connor’s place, and I too squeezed the remaining water from my brushes and put them away before walking back to my seat.

Regardless of the circumstances of my new relationship with Connor, having another friend was a welcome change. I climbed onto my stool next to Ava, who gawked at me in shock.

“What was that all about?” she whispered, inclining her head toward Connor.

A small laugh escaped. “I have no idea—but I promise I’ll let you know when I do.”

T
HE FOLLOWING DAY,
I was finishing up an assignment in English when a finger trailed across my desk. Connor walked through the row of desks and over to the teacher’s, where he placed his paper. He turned and arched an eyebrow in my direction. I tried to keep my internal swooning to a minimum.

“He likes you.” The cool rush of air that followed Evan, blew by my seat. I hadn’t seen him in days. Well, that wasn’t true. I’d seen him but hadn’t spoken to him. He lurked around the edges, always when someone else was around, and made his presence known without actually being available.

I tried not to take it personally. I was aware now of some of his hardships and where he went when he wasn’t with me. Plus, there was the simple fact I had two new things on my mind. Helping Evan, and this
thing
between me and Connor. I was looking at them both in a different light.

“Maybe,” I said.

“He does. And even though I admit it makes me a little jealous—for you to spend time with someone else,” he clarified, “I think it’s good. It’s a good thing.”