Bloom (4 page)

Reece’s biggest problem—as Colton saw it—was that he had never really had any true ambition. When he became old enough to realize that he could get away with not working a day in his entire life—thanks to the copious sums his parents raked in every year—he decided to become a “student of life”, casting aside all responsibility and doing his best to live every day as if it were his last. Usually, that meant throwing as many parties as possible and drinking himself into unconsciousness, but every once in a great while he did something
really
stupid just to mix things up.

Colton had barely been able to tolerate that crazy lifestyle before he got his new job at the shipping depot and was even less tolerant afterward. The long hours left him exhausted and the only thing he wanted to do when he got home from work was sleep. Reece had done his best to be respectful, which for him meant one or two halfhearted attempts to keep the noise level to a minimum, followed by willful ignorance that there was ever a problem in the first place.

It was getting to the point where Colton was seriously considering moving out and finding his own apartment. There was no way he would find a place anywhere remotely as nice as where they were staying now, but he could see himself in a mid-grade studio apartment with a decent view of the city sometime in the very near future.

He probably would have moved out a lot sooner, but he and Reece had been friends for almost five years and Colton felt like he owed him a little more time to get his act together. In high school, Reece had jumped on the back of a bully that was standing over Colton and kicking him repeatedly in the stomach. The bully—Kyle Hanoway, the biggest linebacker on the school football team—easily plucked Reece off his back and threw him to the ground. Reece shouted insults at Kyle the whole time the gorilla of a football player was kicking the two skinny kids lying on the ground. Eventually a teacher saw what was happening and ran over to separate the flailing mass of arms and legs.

Colton and Reece became quick friends and stayed close throughout high school. They had their fights, as all friends do, and when Reece moved to New York City right after graduation, he left an open invitation for Colton to come join him. After things with his own father had deteriorated past the point of repair, Colton took Reece up on his offer and moved to Parkchester, bearing witness to his slow but steady decline into alcoholism and self-loathing.

Colton was just opening the front door to his apartment building when Reece walked out of the lobby elevator. He was wearing tennis shoes—a rarity, since he almost always wore sandals—and runner’s shorts.

“Uh-oh,” said Colton as he walked into the building.

Reece smiled and spread out his arms so Colton could admire his new clothes. His blond, messy hair hung down over his eyes and stuck out in random clumps. “Uh-oh?” he said. “I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

“You don’t exercise.”

“It’s never too late to start.” He walked past Colton and slapped him on the back. “Come on, I need your help with something.”

“Man, I’m tired and I need to eat. I just want to go upstairs and relax.” He tried to keep walking toward the elevator but Reece grabbed his arm and steered him back to the front door.

“Plenty of time for that later, amigo. This is important. You only live once, right?”

“The last time you said that you went missing for three days,” said Colton.

“And I have one of the best stories in the world because of that experience. No regrets!” He pushed Colton through the doorway. “Come on, this way,” he said. He made a laughable attempt to stretch his arms and legs before walking away at a brisk pace.

Colton sighed and jogged to catch up. “I hope we’re going to get food,” he said.

“In a bit. First there’s a little project I’ve been working on.”

“Can you at least tell me what it is?”

“If I did, you wouldn’t help me.”

“Probably not,” said Colton. He sniffed the air. “Are you wearing cologne?”

“Half a bottle. Nice, right?”

“You smell like gasoline. And your hair looks ridiculous.”

“It’s called ‘bedhead’, genius. It’s a real thing and chicks love it.”

They turned onto Third Avenue toward Melrose. Colton had only been to that area once or twice, and he looked around at all the buildings as Reece hurried down the sidewalk.

“What’s the big rush?” asked Colton, jogging to keep up.

Reece looked at his watch. “It’s almost shift change and we might miss her.”

“This is about a
girl
?”

“Of course it’s about a girl! You think I would buy all of these crappy clothes for no good reason? Give me a little credit.”

“Gee, I just thought maybe you wanted to, you know,
exercise
?”

“We both know that’s not gonna happen. Wait! There it is.” He stopped and pointed to a building across the street. Independent Records sold used albums and the latest indie releases, and attracted a wide variety of clientele, from business executives who had never expected to grow up and become nine-to-five office workers to young, tattooed, pale-skinned teenagers who laughed at the thought of one day wearing a suit and conforming to an establishment.

“She works in there?” asked Colton.

“Maybe say it with a little less disgust next time.”

“Oh, give me a break. Can we just get this over with so I can go home? I’m starving.”

“Okay,” said Reece, turning to face him. “Her name’s Jenna. I have it on good authority that she likes guys who exercise, but also guys with a little bit of a bad streak.”

“‘Good authority’? You just described every girl, ever.”

“So you’re my wing-man. Whatever I say to her, just agree, even if it’s a huge lie. And try not to act like a nerd. And don’t hit on her. I got dibs.”

“What are you going to say?”

“I dunno yet, but I’ll think of something.” He waited for a break in traffic and jogged across the street.

Colton imagined Reece getting clipped by a passing car—not enough to seriously injure him, but enough to make him want to abandon his scheme. It didn’t happen, so Colton hurried over to the other side of the street and stood next to the front door of the record store.

He looked at Reece and gestured inside. “After you.”

Reece winked at him and held two fingers up to his neck, pretending to check his own pulse as he walked into the store. Colton shook his head and followed him.

“There she is,” said Reece, nodding to the counter.

Colton saw a petite young woman with short, dark hair and heavy eyeliner. She was reading a magazine that must have been extremely boring because she looked like she was about to fall asleep standing up.

“Not bad, actually,” said Colton.

“Not
bad
?!” said Reece. “What an insult! Like I’d do all this for anything less than ‘amazing’.”

“Okay, fine, she’s amazing. Now what do we do?”

Reece stretched his arms. “Follow my lead.”

He walked over to the counter and waited until the girl looked up from her magazine. “Yeah?” she said.

“Hey,” said Reece.

She waited for him to say something else.

“I just got done working out,” he said. “Now I’m gonna go work out some more.” He turned around and looked at Colton, who was hanging back out of embarrassment. “Right, Colton?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, he works out all the time.”

Reece seemed happy with his response and he turned back to the girl. “So, I was wondering if you have any music that’s good for that.”

“Good for what?” she said.

Reece scratched his neck nervously.

“You know, exercising,” he said. “Keeping the old heart rate up. My parents are rich, by the way.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” He turned around and whispered to Colton. “Plan A is a dud. Move to Plan B.”

“Plan
B
?” whispered Colton.

“I can still hear you guys,” said the girl.

“Grab and go!” said Reece. He snatched a handful of CDs from a stack next to the register and ran toward the exit.

“Hey!” said Colton.

“Hey!” said the girl.

“Be my wingmaaaaaan!” shouted Reece as he ran out of the building.

The girl dropped her magazine and picked up the phone next to the register. “I’m callin’ the cops,” she said, raising her eyebrows at Colton as if she were daring him to try and stop her.

“Aw, man,” said Colton. He ran out of the store and followed after Reece.

Riding his bike around the city every day gave Colton the endurance to catch up with him easily. Reece was huffing loudly as he ran down the street, CD cases in hand.

“What is the matter with you?!” shouted Colton.

“She likes bad boys, remember?” Reece smiled and held up the CDs. “Look what I got!”

They split apart to pass a slow-moving elderly man on the sidewalk.

“Are you insane? You can’t get arrested again!”

Reece had been arrested twice since turning eighteen; once for being drunk and disorderly
underage
(he drank half a bottle of whiskey and stumbled out onto the street in the middle of the night to scream the wrong lyrics of his favorite songs to the entire neighborhood) and once for grand theft auto (the Porsche belonged to Reece’s father, who didn’t think it was as funny as Reece assured him it was). The local police knew Reece’s father well, as he represented a lot of the city cops in civil defense cases. The boys in blue could only protect his delinquent son for so long, however, and threatened to let Reece sit it out in jail with a permanent mark on his record if he ever pulled something stupid again.

Stupid like stealing a bunch of CDs in a moronic attempt to impress a girl.

They ran past a street that would have taken them directly to their apartment building. Colton slowed down but Reece kept running.

“Where are you going?!”

Reece stopped and looked around the street. He was breathing heavily and people were staring at him. His eyes lit up and he smiled when he saw a police car turn a corner two blocks down and drive toward them.

“There!” he shouted, pointing at the car. He turned around and ran back toward the record store.

Colton looked down the road which led to their apartment and wished he was asleep in his bed, then watched in disbelief as Reece almost knocked over the old man they had passed earlier on the sidewalk. The police car’s lights flashed and a loud
squawk
echoed from their loudspeaker.

Colton sighed and ran after his friend.

He caught up a couple blocks down.

“Hey!” he said. He reached out and grabbed Reece’s shirt. “We need to get off the road!”

Reece shook off his grip and kept running. “We’re almost there!” he said. “She has to see them chasing me or it was all for nothing.”

“You’re going to end up in
jail
, Reece!”

“Not today!” he said.

He knocked on the big glass window on the front of the record store as he ran past. He waved at the girl inside and pointed to the police car. Colton was surprised and infuriated when she genuinely smiled and tried to hide a giggle.

“I don’t believe it,” he said.

“That’s why I always get the girl!” Reece called over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s ditch these creeps!”

He rounded the next corner and ran down an alley. Colton followed, looking back as the police cruiser screeched to a halt on the sidewalk. Two police officers scrambled out of the car.

“This way,” said Reece.

They turned left at the end of the alley and kept running. Colton didn’t recognize the area and had no idea how to get back to their apartment. Reece turned a sharp corner and ran across the next street.

“Are they gone?” he shouted.

Colton looked back. “One of them is.”

They ran into the narrow alley on the other side of the road. At the end, the missing cop reappeared, breathing hard.

“Uh-oh,” said Reece.

That’s what I said,
thought Colton. He and Reece both stopped in the middle of the alley, fighting to catch their breath. The two cops were running toward them, one from each side.

“Now what, Einstein?” said Colton. He knew there was no way to get out of the alley. Not both of them, anyway. He thought about Reece’s police record and the time he would spend in jail if he got arrested. He thought about the time in eighth grade when Reece, who had barely known Colton, jumped on the back of a bully to try and stop him from breaking Colton’s ribs.

“Now…” said Reece, “…I dunno.”

“I do. Follow me and don’t stop.”

Colton quickly sized up the running policemen and picked the smaller of the two. He ran down the alley as fast as he could, gaining distance between himself and the police officer behind him. Reece was doing his best to keep up.

“You’re crazy!” he said with a smile.

The cop in front of them looked surprised that they weren’t giving up.

“Don’t move!” he yelled as he reached for the taser holstered to his belt.

Colton was too fast. He turned around at the last second and fell backwards into the officer. His momentum was strong enough to knock the cop to the ground. Colton fell with him and pushed his elbow into the cop’s stomach as they hit the asphalt.

“Keep going!” he shouted to Reece.

Colton tried to scramble away but the police officer wrapped one arm around his neck and kept him pinned down.

Reece looked down as he ran past, then turned the corner and disappeared. The second cop ran up and side-stepped around his partner, but Colton stuck his leg out and hooked his foot around the man’s ankle. The cop stumbled forward and fell against an aluminum trashcan face-first, crushing in the middle. He rolled away from the can, groaning and holding his head.

The cop who had the iron grip around Colton’s neck squeezed it even harder.

“This is gonna be the worst day of your life, pal,” he said.

Colton didn’t doubt it for a second.

5

H
aven lay in her bed fully dressed, blankets pulled up under her chin. She stared at the glowing red numbers on her alarm clock: 9:17 p.m. Her parents were still awake; still walking around downstairs, opening and closing cabinet doors and turning the kitchen sink on and off. Haven groaned in frustration and sat up to look out the window. Kayla was sitting in her car—a rusty, twenty-year-old Volvo—in the shadows near the end of the street, waiting for Haven to sneak out of the house.