Keep You From Harm (8 page)

“Maybe if you gave him a little encouragement, he wouldn’t act that way.”

“I don’t want to encourage him. Besides, I was being perfectly nice to him today. He was friendly this morning and everything was fine before he did a one-eighty back to jerkdom again.”

“There it is,” Gwen said, pointing to a small storefront on the first block of the small downtown area.

The place is called Scoops and it has a red and white striped awning. “Is it a good idea to open an ice cream store in a place that’s freezing cold most of the year? Do people want ice cream during the winter?”

Gwen parallel parks her car in front of the store. “Ice cream isn’t a seasonal thing. The Dairy Queen in Ridgeton is packed all year round. Look, there’s a Help Wanted sign in the window.”

Gwen waits in the car for me while I go inside. It’s a typical ice cream shop with some round café tables and a large counter that lines the entire right side of the store. Beneath a glass top are metal tubs filled with colorful ice cream flavors. Beside it is a topping station table.

The girl behind the counter gives me an application to fill out. When I hand it back to her, she tells me she’ll pass it on to the owner. Her complete disinterest doesn’t give me much encouragement.

“S
he’s
not here to be our free babysitting service, Chloe,” Kyle says.

“I know that. But we did take her in. She could help out a little. Babysitting so we can go out for a change isn’t asking too much of her.”

I’m hovering on the landing that leads to the basement. They obviously don’t know I’m standing here. I was on my way up when I heard them, and their tone made me pause.

“At least ask her,” Chloe pleads.

“I’m not asking her. She’s going to feel obligated to say yes. I don’t want to put her in that position.”

“You’re being ridiculous, the way you tiptoe around her.”

Penelope comes around the corner and spots me. “We’re having pizza for dinner, Raielle. Do you like pizza?”

With that, both Kyle and Chloe turn to see me standing there. Kyle rubs a hand over his face while Chloe moves quickly and starts setting the kitchen table. When we sit down to dinner, everyone is quiet. After a few moments, I say, “I wouldn’t mind babysitting.”

Kyle sighs. Chloe continues cutting Penelope’s pizza slice into tiny bites. “Thank you, Raielle,” he says.

“How about this Saturday night?” Chloe asks.

My pizza pauses on the way to my mouth. “I actually have plans this Saturday. But I could do it any other time.”

“What are your plans?” Kyle asks curiously.

I glance at Chloe to gauge her reaction, but her attention is back on Penelope. “My friend Gwen and I are going to a place called Atlas. Myles and his friends are going, too,” I add.

“Who is Gwen?” he asks.

“A girl from school. She just moved here last year.”

“Atlas is an all ages club with live music,” Chloe tells Kyle. “My friend Maya used to work there.”

“Is this Gwen driving?” he asks.

I nod, wondering where this is going.

Kyle clears his throat. “I’m glad you’re making friends, Raielle. Just make sure you’re home by midnight. I think that’s a reasonable curfew.”

I nearly smile at how uncomfortable giving me a curfew makes him. For some reason, his discomfort makes the curfew fine with me.

T
he
rest of the week passes quickly. Lucas isn’t rude anymore, but he isn’t exactly warm and fuzzy either. He says hello and sometimes we walk between classes together, but our conversation is limited to homework, as in “did you finish the English assignment”. It’s awkward, but I don’t know how to fix it, and I don’t think he does either. For all I know, he doesn’t even want to.

I avoid the main stairwell at the end of each day, instead going out of my way to take the back stairs. I don’t know who brushed by me that afternoon, but I don’t want it to happen again.

There is one piece of good news this week.

“Do your friends get free ice cream?” Gwen asks at lunch on Friday. I got the call last night. The afternoon before, I had an interview over the phone with Stacy, the owner, and the next day she hired me to work three afternoons a week, including Saturdays. I wanted more hours, but that’s all she has right now.

I take a bite of my turkey sandwich. “Let me work there for a while before I begin subsidizing your ice cream habit.”

“When do you start?” she asks.

“Next week. I work Tuesdays and Thursdays from three to seven and Saturdays from one to five.” I haven’t told Kyle and Chloe yet. I know Kyle won’t be happy but I have a feeling Chloe won’t mind my being out of the house more.

“How will you get back and forth?” Gwen asks. “Is your brother letting you borrow the car?”

I shake my head. “I’ll walk.”

Her eyes go wide. “At night? By yourself?”

I chuckle at her reaction. “It’s only a few miles and seven o’clock isn’t late. I walked home through downtown San Diego much later than that.”

“What if it’s raining?”

I shrug, unconcerned.

“I’ll pick you up,” she says.

“What?” I put down the chip I was about to bite into. “You’re not picking me up. Thanks, but no.”

“I can’t believe he won’t let you borrow the car,” she says, not letting this go for some reason.

I sigh. “Look, I haven’t asked them. I don’t have a license anyway. So it doesn’t matter.”

She blinks at me like what I said doesn’t compute. “You don’t have a license?” she asks incredulously.

“Who doesn’t have a license?” Myles asks from behind me.

“Raielle,” Gwen says, turning to look up at him.

“You don’t have a license?” Myles repeats with disbelief.

I roll my eyes at them and start shoving the remains of my lunch into my bag. “We never owned a car. So, I never learned to drive. It’s not a big deal.” I stand up trying to indicate the conversation is over.

He and Gwen follow me out into the hall. “Raielle never learned to drive. She doesn’t have a license,” Myles muses. I turn around to see who he’s talking to. I turn right back when I see that it’s Lucas.

“It’s a rite of passage. It’s a major milestone in a teenager’s life,” Myles continues as he walks behind me.

“You should sign up for driver’s ed,” Gwen suggests. “I think it’s after school. You’ll have to take the class with all the sophomores though,” she snickers.

“I’m not taking driver’s ed. I don’t have time.” We’re standing at the doors that will take everyone in different directions. I’m about to push my way through them to escape.

“You don’t need to take a class. I can teach you,” Lucas says.

I turn and practically gape at him.

“That’s a great idea,” Gwen says with barely contained glee.

Myles places a hand on my shoulder. “You should get your license, Raielle. You may not own a car now, but you’ll want to be able to drive someday.”

I glance at them. Gwen and Myles smile supportively, but Lucas narrows his eyes at me, like he’s daring me to accept his offer.

“Fine,” I answer, my eyes on his, meeting the challenge I see in them. I won’t admit to them that I’ve always wanted to get my license. If it were Gwen offering instead of Lucas, I’d be jumping up and down right now. “Thank you,” I tell him, not sure why he made the offer in the first place. I’m already regretting accepting it despite the traitorous parts of me that are gleeful at the idea of spending more time with him.

Myles squeezes my shoulder before releasing it. “Are we going to see you guys tomorrow night?” he asks.

“We’ll see you there,” Gwen replies.

I never got around to telling Lucas I didn’t need a ride from him. I’m wondering if he’s annoyed about it when he reaches out and touches my arm lightly.

“We’ll make arrangements later,” he says. Then he and Myles disappear through the doors. Predictably, Gwen bounces on her feet with a huge conspiratorial grin.

“You could have offered to give me driving lessons,” I accuse.

“No way. You’re not on my insurance. My parents would flip out if I let you drive my car. Besides you got a better offer.”

“That’s a subjective opinion,” I mumble, hoping it doesn’t turn into a total disaster.

I
decide to wear black corduroy leggings, black knee-high boots with a moderately high heel, and a long-sleeved blue sweater. I feel calm and in control, but I’m exposing as little skin as possible to reduce the likelihood of anyone brushing against it.

“You look nice,” Chloe says as her eyes travel over me.

“Back by midnight, right?” Kyle reminds me.

I nod.

“You have your cell phone?” he asks.

I nod again.

His eyes move over me. “Where?”

“Right here.” My hands are empty, but my leggings have some back and side zipper pockets. I tap them for Kyle. Earlier, I had to ask him to loan me ten dollars for the cover charge. He handed it over easily enough. But now that I have a job, I feel better knowing I can pay him back, or at least not have to ask him again.

A car horn beeps outside. “I’ll see you later,” I call as I head out the door.

Gwen rolls down her window and yells “Sexxxy laaady!” at me. I’m thankful I heard Lucas’s truck leave earlier. I can only hope that Kyle and Chloe did not hear that.

“Shout a little louder. I don’t think they heard you in Albany,” I tell Gwen as I climb into her car and try to see her in the dark. “What are you wearing?”

“Black.” She cranks up the radio as she pulls away from the house. She’s got her iPod plugged into the dash. Again, a Disturbed tune plays, and I wonder if she owns any other music. Maybe something written in the last decade? But I do recognize the song. It’s “Remember”. I swallow the lump in my throat when the chorus begins. My mom used to listen to this when she was having a rough time. Instead of making me upset though, I’m grateful for the reminder of her. I hardly thought of her at all today and that realization fills me with remorse.

“Do you have some kind of ID?” Gwen asks. “Even though it’s all ages, I think that actually means something else when Isolation plays. They say fuck a lot and I think Chad dropped his pants once.”

My mouth hangs open. “Are you serious? Isn’t that indecent exposure?”

She shrugs.

I shake my head and tell her that I do have ID. I don’t tell her my only ID is a fake though. Apollo had it made for me so I could get into clubs to see a band he was backing. The band was actually pretty good. I just hope the bouncers here don’t balk at my phony California ID.

Atlas is a mob scene. Cars line the street for blocks as we approach it. A blue and red neon sign with the club’s name flashes over the door casting a garish glow over the crowd of people waiting to get in. “Oh my god,” I mutter, eyeing the line.

“I’ve heard people come from all over. Isolation has a decent following around here. Where the heck are we going to park? There!” she yells, spotting a car leaving.

Once we’re on the sidewalk, I realize how tight Gwen’s black jersey dress is. Though it covers her from neck to knee, it leaves little to the imagination. She’s paired it with black combat boots, and she’s pulling it all off with her usual aplomb. In my heels, I tower over her as we join the masses by the door.

The night is unusually warm. Heavy rain clouds hang low in the sky, thickening the air with moisture. “Hey, that’s Myles up there,” Gwen says. “He’s waving us over. Come on.” She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the front. People shoot us dirty looks as we bypass them.

“You made it,” Myles grins at us. April has her hands wrapped around his waist. “Lucas and Jake are already inside. April wanted to wait for Sophie and Kellie, but they’re unfashionably late. So, we’re heading in.”

The bouncer is a tall serious guy with a severe flat-top that’s gelled into spikes. He glances at everyone’s ID and lets them pass. But he holds up his hand to me. He takes my ID from my hand and examines it. I stand calmly watching him. Finally, he hands it back to me, fastens a green band around my wrist, and lets me pass. Once inside, I pay the cover charge and locate everyone waiting for me by another interior door.

Myles’s eyes go directly to my wrist. “You’ve got a twenty-one and over bracelet. You can get us all drinks.”

“I’m not getting anyone drinks.” I try to rip the band off but it won’t give at all.

Gwen gets my attention and ushers me through the next door. The moment it opens, a driving rhythm assaults me, pulsing all around us. The club is dimly lit, and the people inside are moving shadows as they bounce to the music.

“This must be the opening band,” Gwen yells beside my ear.

We make a path through the crowd so we can see the stage better. Once it’s in view, I see an overweight guy dressed all in leather screaming his guts out into the microphone. It actually looks a little painful for him. Gwen turns to me and pretends to stick a finger down her throat. “Let’s get something to drink,” she suggests.

When we reach the bar, Gwen pushes me in front of her.

“Stop manhandling me.” I raise my voice to be heard over the din. “I don’t have any money for drinks anyway.”

“It’s on me. Get us a couple of sodas.” She shoves some bills into my hand.

I roll my eyes at her and wait to be noticed. It doesn’t take long. “What can I get you?” a seriously built bartender in a black Atlas T-shirt asks me. The girls around me, who have been waiting longer, turn to me and scowl.

“A Diet Coke,” I reply. He raises his eyebrows in surprise, but quickly pours the drink and hands it to me. I deliver it to Gwen and give her the change.

“Where’s yours?” she asks, taking the cold glass from me.

“I didn’t want one.”

She narrows her eyes. “How about we get some real drinks next?” she asks. “Would you want one of those?”

I shake my head at her and watch as she purses her lips in mild annoyance.

“You’re handy in a crowd, California girl,” Myles says beside me, flashing his dimples. “We spotted you towering over everyone from across the club.”

Behind Myles I see Jake, who has Kellie glued to his side, and Lucas who I’m actually not towering over despite my heels. He is heart-stoppingly handsome tonight in a black long sleeve jersey that fits him like a glove putting an impressive amount of muscle on display. His dark hair is pushed off his face revealing the hard planes of his brow and cheeks. When my eyes find his, I feel a jolt at their intensity. He’s like a laser fixed on me, and my whole body starts to heat.

I glance away and take a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. I can’t maintain eye contact with him when he looks at me that way, with a hunger I know I must be misinterpreting. For all I know, he’s angry with me again for no good reason. That’s when I notice Sophie pressed against his side.

“Oh my god,” Kellie screeches pointing at my wrist. “You’ve got a bracelet. You’ve got to get us some lemon drops. Those are so yummy. Right, Soph?”

Sophie frowns at me. “Yeah,” she answers. Obviously, she wants a drink. She’s just sorry she needs me to get it for her.

I shake my head. “I’m not getting anyone drinks.”

Kellie’s mouth drops open. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.” I’m really starting to regret using my fake ID to get in here, but it’s the only piece of identification I have. I’m not completely opposed to drinking. I’ve had a drink or two at a party. But my experiences with my mom have obviously influenced me. I would never buy alcohol for her when she asked, and I won’t buy it for anyone else either.

“How did you even get that bracelet?” Kellie sneers as she begins reaching for it.

Before she can touch me, a large hand wraps around her arm and stops her. “Leave her alone,” Lucas says.

Kellie yanks away from him and lets her glare travel between us. Then she mumbles “such a fucking waste” and steps back, dismissing us.

Lucas disengages himself from Sophie and takes my wrist in both of his hands. Gently, he slips his fingers beneath the bracelet and begins to tug it downward. My eyes flick up and catch his. “Make a column with your fingers,” he says. His face is only inches from mine.

I squeeze my straightened fingers together and Lucas manages to slide the bracelet down and off. He shoves it in his pocket and rubs my wrist.

I clear my throat and try to find my voice. “You keep saving me from rabid blondes,” I tell him.

“You keep pissing them off,” he answers.

“Well, thanks…again.”

“Why did you get it if you don’t want it?” He arches a curious brow. We’re nearly eye level with each other. He’s still a few inches taller than me but he’s leaning down, creating an intimacy between us in the crowded club.

“My only ID is a fake one. Haven’t you heard, Lucas? I’ve got a checkered past.”

He tilts his head at me. “Yeah, I’ve heard. But I think you’re a good girl at heart.”

I can feel his warm breath on my face. He’s looking at me like he knows me, and I smile to cover the nerves that are making me jittery. “Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my rep,” I reply.

His eyes, so dark in the dimly lit club, shift to my lips.

My breath freezes inside my lungs. When his gaze moves up again, what he sees in my eyes makes his nostrils flare. I wonder if the attraction I’m feeling is written all over my face. Suddenly, he squeezes my hand and releases it, leaning away from me.

“Come on guys,” Myles says, jolting me back to earth where I realize our friends are standing there watching us. “Isolation is on.”

I allow myself to be herded toward the stage again. But my racing heart won’t quickly forget what it’s like having Lucas so close, looking at me like the connection I feel to him is real, and he feels it, too. Gwen is beside me now, and I soon lose track of him. The place is too packed to get close to the stage, but we stake out a spot in the middle of the crowd and watch as the band strolls on.

A thundering cheer erupts, and I grin as the energy in the room skyrockets. I figure out who Chad is right away. He swaggers up to the microphone, his guitar swinging down past his hips. His tank shirt displays the tattoo sleeves I’ve heard about, and his bald head reflects the stage lights. He yells a countdown into the microphone and on four the music begins to pound. Chad takes his place in the center. When he opens his mouth, I’m amazed at his voice. Everyone was right. The band is really good.

The crowd begins moving, and fists start to pound in the air. Gwen turns to me expectantly. I smile and nod at her. My gaze flicks from Chad to the rest of the guys on stage. He’s flanked by two more guitar players. When my eyes land on the bass player, they widen. I recognize him. His long stringy hair is pulled back into a ponytail. I can only see his profile, but I know I’ve seen him before. I continue moving to the music, my eyes staying on the bass player until he finally turns in my direction. I gasp and take a step back, bumping the person behind me who gives me a little shove back. I know where I’ve seen him. But how can it possibly be him? I stand frozen in place not sure what to think.

“You okay?” Gwen yells at me.

I don’t answer. I stare at the man I saw talking to Apollo in front of our building in San Diego. But I need to get closer. I need to be sure. Rudely pushing through people, I inch my way forward. I vaguely hear Gwen calling me, but I keep moving, ignoring the dirty looks and the aggressive shoves. I’m only a few feet from the stage when I feel hands on my arms urging me back.

“What are you doing?” Gwen yells in my ear.

The crowd is rougher up here. They’re forming a pit, and Gwen slams into me nearly knocking me down.

“Let’s move back,” she pleads, tugging on my arm.

“Do you know the other guys in the band?” I ask. “Do they go to our school?”

She shakes her head. “I think they’re older.”

When I get slammed into again, I decide there’s no need to stay up here. I can wait until they’re done and then try to talk to him.

As we move back, I begin to pick out familiar faces from school. Hailey and Tucker are here with Tucker’s friends from history who spoke to me that first day. In front of them is Lucas. He’s not watching Isolation though. His eyes are panning the crowd. Beside him is Sophie who is leaning into him. I dart my gaze away from her and ignore the pang I feel. Next to them are Jake and Kellie. Kellie is sitting piggyback on Jake, her chin resting on the top of his head. I glance at Gwen, and her slumped shoulders tell me she sees them, too. It appears we both have crushes on guys who are taken. But while Jake seems perfectly content with Kellie clinging to him, Lucas is paying no attention to Sophie.

I take Gwen’s hand and lead her toward the edge of the crowd. I want to be near the door when the band exits the stage. We stand listening to the music for nearly another hour. The room is considerably hotter now. Condensation lines the walls, and my back is moist with perspiration. Finally, after a finale that rocks so hard, the entire clubs shakes, Chad yells “thank you” to the cheering crowd and heads to the side of the stage.

In the sudden quiet, my ears begin to ring. I squeeze against the wall to get to the door before the band disappears through it. The bass player is the last one off. When he passes, I reach my hand out and grab his arm. He’s dripping with sweat, and my fingers slide over his skin. Finally, he turns. He glances at my hand on his arm and then up at me. He stops moving, and his eyes grow wide. I can see it in his face. He recognizes me, too.

Before I can say anything, a thick arm wraps around my waist and hauls me backward. The bass player seems to regain his senses, and he quickly disappears through the open door. I struggle to push the arm down and off me. “Let go!” I yell in frustration. I’m carried back to the bar area and unceremoniously dumped on a stool.

“No touching the band,” the bouncer says, pointing his finger at my face. “Unless they ask you to.” Then he winks and turns away.

I immediately stand. “What the hell was that, Raielle?” Gwen demands. Behind her, I see the rest of the group moving toward me. Most of the crowd is shifting the other way, in the direction of the exit now that the show is over.

“If I was going to throw myself at one of them, it wouldn’t be that skanky guitar player,” Kellie grimaces.

I ignore them all and start moving toward the stage door again. This time, it’s Lucas’s hands on my shoulders that stop me. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I have to talk to the bass player.” I try to move around him, but he moves with me.

“Why?” He’s leaning down, placing his face in front of mine.

This time, I avoid eye contact with him. I don’t know what to tell Lucas. Just saying that I recognize the bass player from San Diego wouldn’t justify my reaction. But he reacted the same way to me. His reason for being outside my old apartment building has something to do with me. I can feel it.

“He wasn’t interested in you. Get over yourself,” Sophie says to me, tugging on the waistband of Lucas’s jeans in an attempt to pull him away.

Lucas clenches his jaw and removes her hand. “We are not a couple, Sophie. Please stop acting like we are.”

She gazes up at him, and her eyes fill with tears. Lucas sighs heavily.