Reckoning (21 page)

“What about your dad?”

“He sells medical equipment to doctors and hospitals. He’s gone a lot, traveling for work. So I usually only see him on weekends. It’s actually kind of weird when he is home. I’m just not used to it, you know?”

“Yeah. My dad works a lot, too. But he’s always home every night, and on the weekends. For me, it’s my step-mom who’s gone all the time.”

“What does she do?”

“She designs computer systems for businesses, so she’s always traveling. Sometimes out of the country for a week or more. So I know what you mean when you say it’s weird when they’re there.”

I take a sip of water. “So have you thought about where you want to go to college?”

“Yeah! I’m definitely going to apply to California State at Long Beach, and probably Temple. They both offer sports medicine degrees. And there are some others I need to look into. Maybe Colorado State. What about you?”

I shake my head, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I honestly have no idea. I’d love to do something with music, but I can’t play anything! Or maybe something art-related. I like to draw, but I don’t know if I’m that good.”

“I’m sure you’re better than you think you are. Your talent probably just needs some formal training. Or you could always just get a Liberal Arts degree, with a concentration in Art and then turn it into a career in photography or something.”

I look at him in astonishment. “You should be a counselor.”

“I know. I sound like one, right?” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “It’s just that I’ve read a
lot
of college brochures lately.”

“I guess I need to start putting more thought into it. But right now, I just don’t know.”

“Until this year, I really wasn’t sure what I wanted to do either.”

“What made you choose sports medicine?”

“A love of sports, I guess. Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to play professionally. Lacrosse or baseball. But I’m just not
that
good. I mean, I can earn a spot on a high school team easily enough, and probably college, but professional? No way. And I like the idea of helping people, so it seemed like a good idea.”

“What’s your sister studying?”

“Marketing and public relations. Which is good. Maybe she can promote me when I’m out of college.” He grins.

“That’d be cool.” I draw a line through the condensation on my glass. “It must be nice to have a sibling.”

“Yeah, I guess. I never really thought about it. Megan’s just always…been there, you know? So I don’t know anything different. You don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

“No. Just me.”

“That’s all right, though. This way you get all the stuff.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I suppose. But it’d be nice to have a brother or sister. Although Rachel’s pretty much like a sister already.”

“Sometimes that’s even better. To have someone that close to you who’s not family. Then you don’t have to mess with all the usual crap that can go along with it.”

There is a slight change in his voice and I look at him, wondering if there is more to that statement than he was willing to share.

“You want to get out of here?” he asks, finishing the last of his Coke. Glancing at his watch, he says, “We still have an hour before you have to be home. We can go for a drive. There’s this really cool place I’d like to show you. You can’t beat the view.”

_________

Rick leans against the grill of his truck and reaches for my hand, drawing me closer to him. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

And it is. After leaving the restaurant, we’d headed west, quickly leaving Denver and its sea of lights behind as we climbed steadily into the foothills. At first, I’d thought he was taking me to Lookout Mountain, a popular spot for viewing the city and the flat expanse of plains beyond, and I’d worried that I wouldn’t make it back home on time. But he’d turned onto a secondary road and fifteen minutes later pulled into a small, gravel parking area. Now, as I gaze down the sloping and barren hills to the glowing lights of the downtown skyline, the lights of the surrounding suburbs stretching out until they fade into the distance, I feel a strange sense of calm.

“It looks prettier at night, doesn’t it?” I say. Whenever I see this view during the day, I get the unsettling impression that the area is about to be swallowed by the flat and empty horizon stretching limitlessly to the east. And that if you walked into that sea of nothingness, you would be lost forever. But with the curtain of darkness enclosing the boundaries, it looks safer, settled.

My eyes lock onto the cluster of buildings that comprise downtown, one floor after another reaching for the sky. They are like the heart, the pulse, while an endlessly twisting and spreading mass of roads and highways make up the veins and arteries, spreading life in every direction. If I listen closely, I can almost hear it – breathing in and out, groaning as it spreads and stretches, contained only by the darkness surrounding it.

“It’s more centered,” I say softly, unconsciously voicing my thoughts. “Like it won’t be swept into the void.” I can sense Rick looking at me, probably thinking I’m completely deranged. I shake my head, laughing lightly. “Sorry. Sometimes it just seems so…open out there, you know?”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” he says, “but I can see what you mean. Maybe that’s why I like it here at night. But for something really cool, you should see it at dawn. It’s amazing then.”

I look at him in surprise. “You’ve been up here at
dawn
?”

“My dad and me came up last summer. We were going to hike one of the trails on Mount Zion and we headed out really early so we could beat any afternoon thunderstorms. The sun was just coming up when we drove by here. It was incredible. The entire horizon was orange and yellow and the sky was this purple color. And it was still just dark enough so you could see all the lights. You seriously have to see it sometime.”

“I’d like that. I love sunrises.”

“I know.”

I smile, pleased he remembered. Then, for some odd reason, I wonder how many other girls he’s brought here, showing them the same view. I quickly push the thought aside, not liking the images that accompany it. And besides, it’s really none of my business.

“I like to come up here once in a while, just to get away,” he says. “It’s a nice place to just sit quietly.” He wraps his arms around my waist and I lean back against his chest. “And I thought you might like it.”

“I do,” I say, my heart racing. “Thanks for sharing it with me.”

“Sure.” His warm breath stirs the hair beside my face. “I had a good time tonight.”

“Me, too.”

“But, you know…I’ve been keeping a pretty close eye on the streetlights.”

I tense, turning to look at him warily, then relax when I see the grin on his face. “No doubt,” I say, pretending to join in the teasing. “You never know what might happen next with me around.” Although I say it lightly, my stomach clenches. Because there is too much truth in the statement.

“Exactly. I kind of like that.” He lifts his arm and gently brushes my hair over my shoulder before turning me to face him, his hands coming to rest on my waist. “You know, I really like you, Kat. Just being with you. I mean, I know we don’t really know each other that well, and it’s only been, like, what? A few days?”

I nod, scarcely believing this is happening.

“But, I just…I don’t know…I feel different when I’m with you.”

“I really like being with you, too,” I say, my voice a little unsteady. My heart hammers in my chest.

“I’m really glad we met up again.” He pulls me closer. “I’m not trying to rush things, but I’d really like to see a lot more of you, if that’s OK.”

I nod, trying to keep a ridiculous grin from spreading across my face. “That is…totally OK.” I place my hand on his chest, nervously fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“Cool,” he says, his hands sliding down to my hips.

He tilts his head slightly to the side and leans towards me. I breathe in, inhaling the subtle smell of his aftershave and shampoo, the fragrance of laundry detergent in the fibers of his shirt, the slightly salty tang of his breath. I close my eyes and feel his lips touch mine, soft and warm. His kiss is firm, but gentle, his lips parting just enough to make my heart pound even harder.

I’ve kissed only two other boys before. One in junior high, but that had been more of a nervous peck than a kiss after an awkward and prolonged date that I’d spent the entire evening wishing I’d never agreed to. The other had been last year, with a guy from my English lit class that Rachel had convinced me to go out with, but it had been so wet and sloppy I’d been grossed out for a week.

This is nothing like either one. It feels…perfect.

He pulls away and takes a deep breath. “I guess I better get you home. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

The last thing I want to do is go home, but I know he’s right and reluctantly get back in the truck.

Just before eleven, he walks me to my front door. “Tonight was fun,” he says, his fingers intertwining with mine.

“I had a great time,” I say, gazing into his eyes.

He reaches for my other hand. “Maybe we can go to a movie or something this weekend.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll call you. We’ll set something up.”

“OK. Good luck with the job tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

He steps closer and bends his head to mine. The kiss lasts longer this time, his tongue just brushing mine before we pull apart. The blood soars through my veins, and I take a deep, steady breath, licking the taste of him from my lips.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he murmurs, squeezing my hands.

“OK. Goodnight.”

He steps off the porch and starts toward his car, then turns around and dashes back up the stairs to give me one more lingering kiss before driving off.

I lean against the front door and exhale loudly, unable to keep the smile from my face. Is this really happening? Is it possible? Sitting down on the porch swing, I wrap my arms around myself gleefully, thinking about the evening, and that we want to see a lot more of each other. I hug myself tighter, a stupid grin spreading across my face.

Can it really be this easy? This uncomplicated? Relationships are supposed to come with conflict, aren’t they? The long, rocky road to love and all that. At least they always did in books and movies. And in the drama of my classmates dating lives. But maybe it doesn’t have to be like that. Maybe this will be the exception and it really can be as simple and straightforward as boy meets girl, and the rest follows.

I think about how well Rick and I get along, and how much I enjoy being with him. Maybe there really is something to that whole chemistry thing Rachel is always talking about.

I lean back with a sigh, smiling happily. Can things get any better?

No
, the voice inside my head says.
But they can certainly get worse when you flip out in front of him.

The smile leaves my face and I square my shoulders. That isn’t going to happen. Not now. Not ever. Because now I have even more reason to make sure no one ever knows about the things I see and hear.

The sound of a car engine approaching draws my attention to the street. Glancing to the left, I see Lovell’s Range Rover pulling up to the curb. Not wanting to be seen, I slide down in the seat and watch furtively over the porch railing.

He gets out of the truck and opens the back door, pulling out a non-descript, oversized brown box, like the ones that contain boots in a shoe store.

He glances up and I duck my head. I hear his footsteps cross the sidewalk and I cautiously peek back over. He unlocks his front door and disappears inside, taking the box with him. A few moments later, the basement window glows with light.

Overcome with curiosity, I stare at the window. What
does
he do with his time anyway? And why is he bringing back a box at eleven o’clock at night? I have an overwhelming urge to creep over and peek inside the window.

Standing up, I move quietly away from the swing, reaching a foot out to the first step. I glance to the left and the basement light goes out. And then it dawns on me just what I’m doing. Shaking my head in disbelief, I turn back to my front door and go inside.

Nibbling on my breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast the next morning, I watch my mom out of the corner of my eye. She is sitting across from me, sipping her coffee in between bites of toast and strawberry jam, scanning the newspaper while the voice of a CNN reporter drones in the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, I plunge in. “Hey, Mom?”

“Hmm?” She turns a page of the newspaper.

“Since I have my license now, and I’d really like to look into getting a job, I’d like to buy a car.” I take a bite of eggs, nearly swallowing them whole as I wait for her reaction.

She looks up in surprise. “A car?”

I nod, smiling confidently. “Yeah. I mean, it makes sense, right?”

Her brows draw together. “I don’t think so, honey. You’re awfully young to think about having a car. Give it a year or so. You
just got
your license.”

“But if I want a job, then I need some way of getting back and forth. And I’m sure you don’t want me to just sit around all summer.”

“A job is fine. But there are other ways of getting there. I’ll take you or you can take the bus. You don’t
have
to have a car.”

“You know I can’t always rely on you to get me back and forth. What if you’re out somewhere or have to work late?”

“Then take the bus.”

“Mom, come on. I don’t want to have to rely on the bus, either. I’d like to have at least a little independence.”

She looks at me in exasperation. “This is because of Rachel, isn’t it? Because she got a car.”

“No! It has nothing to do with Rachel. This is about
me
.”

My mom sighs and lays the paper aside, looking at me over the top of her glasses. “I knew the moment you told me that Rachel had a car that it was only a matter of time before you would start saying you needed one, too…”

“Mom, forget about Rachel.” I speak slowly, trying to remain calm and rational. “I want a car for me. So I can get a job, get where I need to be without being dependent on someone else.”