Thin Love (11 page)

Keira lowered her guitar, pulling her fingers from the frets in order to give her cousin her full attention. “Not that I know of. Why?”

“You cleaned my junk.” Leann glanced around the room. It had taken Keira an hour to put away Leann’s things, to organize her cousin’s mess so that their room didn’t look like a tornado had touched down in it. It always bothered Leann when Keira did this, as though the tidiness was some sort of insult to the weird, unkempt way Leann filed her belongings. “Your stuff is always sorted because you’re an OCD clean freak, but you cleaning my shit? Something is up.”

“Nothing is up, calm down.” Keira picked up her guitar and strummed a few notes, not eager to hear the big deal she knew Leann would make about tonight. She didn’t look at her cousin’s frown or the way she tapped her foot against the carpet, the soft pat of her dance shoes not making a sound. There would be suspicion, Keira knew, and quite a bit of warning because that’s what Leann did when she thought Keira was being irresponsible. She had never understood why her cousin, who was only six months older than her, always felt it necessary to treat Keira like a kid. Maybe it was because Leann got to experience life a bit more. Maybe it was because Leann’s mother wasn’t as controlling, as overbearing as her own.

Whatever the reason, Keira’s cousin was wary on her behalf. Always. When she didn’t immediately explain her reasons for cleaning up Leann’s mess, the girl sat next to her on the bed. “Well?”

Keira looked down at the fret board, plucking out a soft, sweet melody she hoped would calm her cousin. “Um, Kona Hale is coming by to watch
Les Mis
.”

She didn’t notice Leann’s reaction, too focused on the notes under her fingers and so she was a little shocked that Leann grabbed the neck of the guitar, stopping Keira’s fingers. “What?” she asked her cousin.

Keira wanted to laugh at Leann’s wide eyes. “Did you say Kona Hale?” At Keira’s nod, Leann dropped her hand from the guitar and leaned back. “I don’t think I can wrap my brain around the fact that you are going to have a real live boy in this room, not to mention that boy is CPU’s resident whore.”

“Leann, we’re working on a project together. There will be no whorish activity going on.”

The older girl seemed doubtful, suspicious, and then annoyed when Keira rolled her eyes and returned her attention to her guitar. “Keira, you don’t know what kind of person he is. Besides, I thought your mom has been after you about Mark Burke.”

“She keeps trying to get me to go to the hospital and accidently run into him when he’s there doing his internship.
‘To have lunch with Steven, oh, look, it’s Mark.’
But I haven’t gone yet.”

“Is he ugly?”

“No idea, Leann.”

“Well, he might be better than Kona Hale, at least.” When Keira ignored her, Leann threw a plain, blue pillow at her.

“You really think that of every guy on campus, I’d pick him?”

“He is pretty.”

“Oh, he’s gorgeous, but I’m not stupid.” She adjusted her body, turning toward her cousin with her arms resting on her Gibson. “And I’m not blind. I know how Kona operates. I also know that he’s not interested in me. Not like that.”

Keira didn’t like the look Leann gave her. It was pity and sympathy and all the things that she never wanted to see on anyone’s face when they looked at her. Especially not Leann. Her cousin knew this. She knew that above all, Keira wanted to be free from the control that had weighed her down her whole life. She knew that Keira wanted to make mistakes because she’d never been allowed to before.

So Leanna did what she always did when there was tension between them. She pulled on the end of Keira’s long hair and gave it a tug, gentle, but just enough to tell Keira she was sorry for doubting her.

“Bitch,” Keira said, her head down and gaze still focused on her guitar.

“Brat,” Leann returned and she stretched her legs across the bed and nudged Keira with her foot. “Play me that sad song.”

Keira knew what she meant. Leann had been requesting that same song for months now, ever since she and her boyfriend Michael started sleeping together. Leann was happy it happened, she’d told Keira that much, but she suspected that her cousin missed that sex was one experience she’d never get to have again for the first time.

There were smooth grooves on the fret board; slight dips that Keira’s father had made over the years. They were wider than Keira’s fingertips, but whenever she played her father’s guitar, she felt close to him. It was like reaching through the ether and touching him, paying tribute to the hope, the heartache he’d laid down on that instrument. Keira’s own emotion, the sliver of hope that lived in her heart, came through with every note, with each line of lyric that left her mouth.

He’d taught her to play at eight and by nine, she was as good as he’d ever be. He told her she had a natural ability, that he wanted her to never forget what it felt like with the music in her mind, swelling her heart the very first time she played.

She never had.

Keira’s voice was low, an alto with a hint of a rasp, and it followed the notes, slid along B flats and Cs like she was trying to catch up to them, to make them settle.

She didn’t watch her fingers when she played. That was a habit of a newbie guitarist Keira had long since abandoned. Eyes closed, the vibration of the guitar against her chest, and then Keira was taken over by the words, by the refrain in her mind, flickering from her throat.

Her lyrics were a spell, magic woven from her father’s blood that she would never be able to define. She didn’t know why the sounds in her head never matched the notes she played or where those haunting, melodious words came from, why they fit together so perfectly.

Little girl I used to be

Shadows covered broken dreams

Forgot the promise I made to me

And then, Keira reached the bridge, climbed through the music like it was a mountain. She didn’t have to watch Leann’s expression to know that there were tears in her eyes.

No first kiss

Small last breath

Little girl gone, put out to death

The song continued, weaving through that small dorm room and Keira felt the bed move, the tremble of Leann’s body as she tried hold back her shuddering breaths. When the vibration from the last note ended, Keira finally looked at her cousin, shaking her head at the sloppy way Leann wiped her face against her thin sweatshirt.

“Damn. You’re too good for CPU.”

“You’re biased.”

“Of course I am, but I mean it.”

Keira didn’t let Leann’s look stagger her. It was a compliment she’d heard from her cousin for months, years before when they were eleven and Keira had written her first haunting melody, her very first lyric filled with melancholy.

Leann looked at the door when the knock sounded and offered Keira a glare, her emotions transformed in moments. “Be good,” she told her before she jumped off the bed and grabbed hold of her bag. “I have rehearsal until ten.
Ten,
Keira.”

“Are you still here?” She waved her cousin off and leaned her guitar against the footboard of her bed.

Kona’s smile appeared when Leann opened the door. He dwarfed Leann, was at least a foot taller than her, but that didn’t seemed to bother her cousin in the least. The girls shared that ‘you can’t intimidate me’ gene.

Kona heard the music before he knocked. The voice had him resting against the doorframe, listening. He knew it was Keira singing, her natural tone evident in each note. Just the sound had him punch drunk.

The door opened and Kona’s gaze shot down to the petite girl in front of him. She looked a lot like Keira; they both had the same fierce scowl, the same fine, pale skin, but this girl was bolder, her eyes sharper as she glared at him.

“Kona Hale.” Leann said his name like a curse, each syllable a dirty clip that she didn’t seem to want on her tongue.

“What’s up?”

“You tell me.” Her eyes lowered, her gaze sliding down past his hips before she jerked her attention back to his face. He caught her meaning, didn’t find her stupid joke funny.

“Leann, leave him alone,” Keira said, moving her cousin aside so Kona could walk into the room.

Keira’s cousin whispered something to her, something Kona thought might be a warning, but Keira pushed Leann toward the door before he could make out the threat.

“Well, kids, have fun.” Leanna stepped up to Kona, eyes fierce again, mouth quirked in a humorless smirk. “Not too much fun you hear me, Hale?” She looked behind Kona, at Keira putting her guitar up. “My cousin is a good girl. I expect her to still be a good girl when you leave here.”

“Jesus,” he said, barely able to finish the word before Leann slipped out of the door.

“Sorry.” Keira’s face had gone blotchy and pink again and Kona smiled at her expression. “She’s a little overprotective, but she’s harmless,” she said, waving her hand to direct Kona toward the foot of the bed. He followed her, rested against the make-shift sofa of thick cushions and pillows as Keira opened the cover and slipped the DVD into the player.

“It’s cool.” It wasn’t the first threat he’d ever received from overprotective friends. God knew, it wouldn’t be the last.

His eyes moved around the room, watched Keira as she knelt in front of the TV, skipped through the intro. She sported well-worn jeans and when she bent to lift the remote higher, Kona had to shift his gaze from the pale skin that peeked between her waistband and the tight t-shirt she wore. He was torturing himself. He knew it and he wondered if Keira had any idea what just being in the same room with her did to Kona. He doubted it. The girl had no idea the power she had. She had no clue how badly he wanted her, how being near her had him forgetting every steadfast rule he’d given himself about women.

Blinking away the image of that skin, Kona shifted over, made room for Keira when she sat next to him. The area was comfortable and Kona figured that the girls seemed to have set it up when the common room downstairs didn’t invite shared TV watching. Their set was decent, not really that big, but the color was great. At that moment, Kona could really concentrate on the damn TV or the music spilling out from the speakers.

Keira smelled different, another flowery scent he couldn’t place and he tried hard to keep his inhales short and brief, to focus on what was happening on the screen. But damn it was hard. It was also giving him a headache.

“The quality in this one isn’t the best.” Keira leaned against the cushion and kept rambling. Kona didn’t care, he liked how excited she seemed to be as the music started growing louder. “The librarian told me they had to convert it from a VHS because the company doesn’t sell the ’85 London original cast version, which sucks because aside from seeing it live…” she trailed off, stopping when she looked up at Kona. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m good.” He tried for casualness, not wanting Keira to know how she was affecting him, how just the excitement in her voice had him fighting back the smile that threatened to split across his face. He rested back, slid down on his elbow and moved his long legs in front of him. They nearly touched the TV.

As the musical began, Keira sat up, lifted the remote to increase the volume. Eyes wide, she started to explain the premise, her smile growing and Kona didn’t stop his grin this time. “So Valjean is prisoner 24601. He’s been in prison for nineteen years and is being paroled by Javert, who is a total bastard. But he’s going to have to display a ticket of leave, which means he’ll be shunned because he’s an ex-con.”

“How’s he supposed to eat or work if no one will help him?”

“The Bishop of Digne offers him food and shelter.”

And then, despite the completely lame idea that Kona is sitting in a girl’s dorm room, not touching her, having her seemingly more interested in a bunch of stuffy singing actors on a stage, Kona lets the music pull his attention and then, just as Keira said, the story, and the girl, completely infected him.

“That was the saddest fucking thing I have ever seen in my life.”