Arranged (12 page)

“I’m sorry –”

“You’re not! You’re just gonna get in and go do whatever you want because you can. Because you’re not stuck between them. But I am, Rose. I am!”

“I –”

“No, you know what? Just go.” Riley turns away. “Just fucking go. Be happy and leave us behind. Let them fall apart.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I snap. “What do you want me to do, Riles? Drop out of school and come home and try to keep Mom and Dad together?”

“All this started with money.” Riley grits his teeth. “I could get a job, you could get two. Hell, high school blows. I’ll drop out and get a job or two –”

“Don’t!” My voice pitches so high I’m almost screaming, but I lower it. “Don’t you dare. Stay in school and study and start thinking about college, okay?”

“What’s the point?” He laughs despondently. “Mom and Dad can’t help even a little, I’m not good enough at baseball to get a scholarship, and I’m not smart enough to get all the fancy scholarships you did –”

I hold up a hand. “Don’t. Don’t even think like that. I’ll figure something out, okay? You’ll see.” I feel like crying, but I keep my voice steady. I can’t let him see me weak. I’m the last stronghold he has now that Mom and Dad are weak. I give him a half-hearted smile.

“Trust me. It’ll all work out. I’ll make it work out.”

Riley heaves a sigh, and I hug him before getting in the car and pulling out of the driveway. He watches me go, illuminated by the porch light and looking sadder and older than ever.

~~~

LEE

~~~

My chest feels lighter.

It’s insane, the way Rose can do that. I didn’t even know the pressure was there until I talked to her for the first time. Eleven years. Eleven years of not knowing how she was or if she was happy. I moved on – I had to. But a part of me was suffocated by the idea of her and I never meeting again. I was haunted as a kid, plagued by the beautiful blonde girl I knew Rose had to have grown up to be.

When we met in the dorms with me pretty much butt-naked, the pressure let up for the first time in years. When I saw her for the first time, everything fell into place. Clicked. I felt so
right
until her and her deliciously coconut-smelling-self disappeared around the corner, and then I felt wrong again. Not-whole.

I didn’t even know it was her until I asked Dad what she looked like. He wanted me to come here to get her to marry me. I came here to see if she was happy.

She wasn’t.

I asked around after we bumped into each other – Rose Jensen, a girl nobody really knew but had seen. The boys think she’s passable, with an emphasis on her hotter face. They’re idiots – all of her is beautiful. She just hides it behind textbooks, smartass remarks, and ambition. The girls thought she was nice, if a little quiet. They’d seen her at one or two frat parties, dragged there by her roommate, but she never stayed for long, and if she did, it was to help her drunk roommate back to their dorm. She didn’t date, and I couldn’t track down any of her friends. I didn’t plan to – I was creepy enough already just transferring to this school for her. But by some stroke of luck, the pierced-everything girl in my Psychology class – Jen - knew more about her than anyone. They were good friends. Jen told me what I needed to know; Rose was the friendly, good-grades sort of girl. Straight-A’s but not a socially stunted nerd. Pretty, sweet, smart, but entirely overlooked by boys because she doesn’t stand out to them and taken for granted by her friends because she helps them without asking for anything in return.

Rose doesn’t even know what she does for me. But now that I’ve told her about the creek, I feel better. Everything I’d been keeping inside me was let out. Now she knows how our pasts tie together. But that’s only half of the whole deal.

She has no idea how much I really care for her.

I groan and slap my forehead. I’m starting to sound like a sappy idiot from a chick flick. Grace, pulling on her shoes and a fur jacket, shoots me a look.

“As entertaining as watching you beat yourself up is, should I be asking if something’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” I run my fingers through my hair. It’s dry and smells like chlorine from practice. Coach ran me hard, because he could tell I was distracted. Hell yeah, I was distracted! I’d been anxious to get home from practice before the damn Fed-Ex guy arrived. I shoot a look at the package – it’s huge and sits in the middle of the living room.

“You’ll be okay with all the ribbons and shiny pink paper?” Grace smirks. The package is surrounded by bolts of wrapping paper I’d bought earlier, all of them pink.

“Her name’s Rose,” I growl. “It’s not like I think she’s a girly-girl or anything. The color just fits her name, right?”

“You don’t know her favorite color?”

“Does it matter?” I frown. “The presents inside are what matters.”

“Oh, listen to you,” Grace’s smirk gets huge. “Talking about how appearances don’t matter. What happened to the Lee who said; ‘
A girl’s
boobs tell
you all you need to know about her
’?”

“It’s called growing up. You might’ve heard of it.” I flop on the floor and start wrapping the presents.

There’s a silence. Grace’s feet pad over, and something light touches my head – her hand. She bends down and kisses my scalp.

“I’m happy for you.”

I don’t push her off. Other brothers might push their sisters off. But this is the first time she’s touched me since Mom died. No hugs. Not even a pat on the hand. But now, the warmth behind her touch is undeniable.

Maybe I’m not the only one doing the growing up.

Grace quickly snaps back into business mode. “I’ll be gone for two weeks. Guam. If Rose comes over, give her the envelope on the counter, okay?”

“What is it?”

“Nosy,” Grace clicks her tongue. “If you paid any attention to my photoshoots, you’d know.”

“Know what? Is this about the shoot you forced her to go on?”

Grace lifts her rolling bag over the carpet. “If you really want to know, check the magazine on my desk. The middle-ish.”

“She’s in a magazine?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Grace laughs. “You must’ve noticed – she has quite the figure. The director liked what came out. She’s not career model material, and I’m sure if I offered she’d turn it down. She’s odd like that.”

“Nothing odd about not wanting to become a clothes-horse,” I grumble.

Grace laughs and checks her phone. “Oh, my cab’s here. Don’t forget to water my plants, okay? Bye!”

She darts out the door with a lip-glossed smile. From the patio I watch her cab pull away and into the night.

I haven’t wrapped many presents. Presents weren’t a thing growing up in our house after Mom died. Christmas came with the same present every year from Dad – a crisp fifty euro note. Dad told our relatives to send us things he could return easily and get the money for. Grace gave me her euro note every year and told me to keep it. Said she didn’t want anything from Dad. Ever.

I’d always wanted the beautiful wrapped presents other kids had. I wanted the glittering piles of green and red and blue under the Christmas tree. I wanted Dad to smile and Grace to laugh.

I was a pretty stupid kid.

I shake my head and scratch my thumb on the tape teeth just as the doorbell rings. I suck the skin free of blood and answer the door.

“Kiera?” My eyes widen. “What are you –”

“Lee!” Kiera’s blonde hair and overpowering perfume assaults my face. She pecks me on the cheek and her gloss leaves a sticky mark. I wipe it off and frown at her as she flits about the living room, her tight jeans and silk top leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Wow! Grace totally redid the living room, huh?”

“Kiera, I’m really not –”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.” She pouts her lips and settles on the couch like a languid cat, all slender limbs and perfect nails. “But I figured you could use a pick-me-up visit! You know, like the one you gave me a few weeks ago.”

She winks, and I sigh.

“Kiera, look. I…I’m involved. With someone.”

“Oh, I know.” She fluffs her hair. “And she’s sitting right here waiting to become even more
involved
.”

I rub the space between my eyebrows. “Jesus, Kiera. Don’t make me spell it out.”

She stands and makes her way to me with that same cat-like grace. She laces her arms around my neck and pushes our chests together.

“C’mon, Lee. We’ve been doing this for what, seven months now? You can’t leave now. I know every nook,” She runs her hand down my bicep. “And cranny of you. I know how you tick. You and I are good at this thing.”

“This thing,” I tear away from her. “Is over.”

“Is it?” She laughs. “I know you, Lee. You want sex. A lot of it. Whenever you can get it. You want it comfortable and easy and with girls you know. You have one-night stands sometimes, sure. But it feels better when it’s with me, doesn’t it? Because you know how to make me sing. And I know how to play you like a violin.”

I clench my fists. “It’s over. Get out.”

Her face contorts, but she smooths it over quickly and picks up her purse. “You’ll call me. I know you will. Whoever this new girl is, she doesn’t know you. You like things easy. You’re a coward. Challenge isn’t your style. And new things are challenges. Always.”

I narrow my eyes at her retreating back. She doesn’t shut the door behind her. I walk up and slam it, but I can still hear her laugh in the hall. God, she infuriates me. Sure, we’d had some good times. I liked her. Used to like her, back when she wasn’t such a haughty bitch. She’s smart and beautiful, but now that we’ve known each other for a while, that smartness and beauty turned into vindictive, cutting insight and cruel sexuality. That’s what time does to relationships. Contorts them. You take the person for granted and forget why you liked them to begin with, and they twist you around yourself just to get a reaction. That’s how it’s always been with me and girls. That’s why I’ve never stayed with one girl for very long. They tear each other, or me, apart trying to get me or keep me.

Would my thing with Rose become that?

No.
I shake my head. That’s impossible. Rose isn’t like the girls who fought each other after school in the cafeteria for my attention. She’s not one of the girls who catcalls me in the street about how hot I am. She never once stopped and stared lustfully at me, looked at me like a piece of meat. To Rose, I’m annoying. And a pervert. She doesn’t think I’m perfect just because of how I look. And I could kiss her for that.

Kiss her and lean her over the table and slide into her –

“Get it together,” I hiss to no one. I’ve gotta get these presents wrapped before I call her, and I can’t call too late, or she’ll think I’m just trying to get her over here for sex and then she definitely won’t come. I don’t want her to think she’s some booty-call I buzz in the middle of the night. No. This has to be perfect. I can’t let her down. I have to show her, undo all the bad things she thinks about me.

Kiera’s wrong. I’m not a coward. I like challenge. It’s not going to be a problem between us, sex. At least I don’t think so. She doesn’t have experience, I know that much. I have experience, but it’s not like I can use it. She’s not one of the girls I sleep with in passing. She means so much more to me than that. I don’t want to mess this up. Is my experience going to be good enough?

Am I going to be good enough?

I sigh and cut a ribbon and nick my finger on the tape teeth again. I suck my thumb to get the blood off and let out a nasty swear no one hears but me and the pink wrapping paper.

Chapter Seven

In Which Lee Montenegro
Seduces Me Through Cookies

The drive to L.A. seems endless, but the deep blackness of the highway gives me the space I need. By the time I park on Grace’s street it’s already past midnight. I check my phone – two in the morning. I stand at the apartment lobby door, pressing the buzzer and stomping my feet to keep warm. No answer. I text Lee. No answer. I call him, and it goes to voicemail. I sigh.

“Hey Lee, it’s me, the girl you made drive down here after a long day? I’m going to have to sleep in my car if you don’t come down and let me in.”

After a minute of mind-numbing cold, I turn just as the door buzzes open behind me. I take the elevator and Lee’s already waiting in the hall, barefoot and in dark jeans and a sweater, his hair mussed and hazel eyes sleep-clouded but concerned.

“I fell asleep, shit, I’m sorry –” He starts. I smile and lean into his arm.

“It’s okay. C’mon. Show me this surprise.”

The sleep cloud evaporates from his face and he lights up. He pulls me by the hand into the apartment and I barely have time to take off my shoes before he whisks me into the kitchen. Five boxes – some long, others short and small – line the counter in messy pink wrapping paper.

“It’s separate, but it’s actually just one thing,” Lee says. “The wrapping job is shitty, I know.”

“You didn’t have to –”

“Just open them!”

With shaking fingers I unbutton my coat and throw it aside. I start with the smallest package – a pastry bag with dozens of different detachable tips for frosting decoration. It’s not some cheap brand, either, but the professional chef kind the owner of Bistro Miel uses.

“Whoa,” I murmur, turning the bag over. “This –”

“There’s more!” He points eagerly at the rest. “Open them all!”

I tear into the other packages – a set of incredible, high quality knives, a heavy-duty pewter rolling pin, a chocolate melting pot, a steamer for puddings and soufflés, and a set of rose-patterned crème brulee dishes.

“It’s for your baking.” Lee smiles. “I know you don’t start culinary until next year, but think of them like an early Christmas present. The guy said they’d last a long time, and they’re easy to clean, and –”

I don’t know when I started, but I’m crying. Thick, hot tears roll down my face and drop into the rose dish I hold. I put it down before my shaking hands drop and break it.

“Thank you. But I don’t think…I don’t think I’ll need these anymore.”

I hear Lee stand and something warm presses into my shoulder, turns me around to face him gently.