Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Since the chili is for tomorrow, we should grab something easy for dinner,” I said as Mom grabbed a cart.
Our fridge was pretty bare, but I really just wanted something fast so we could get to the game early.
When I’d told Len at lunch that we’d be there, he’d actually whooped. Apparently, they were expecting low attendance due to curfews. Even Mirae and Jene said they’d try to make it.
“Sure,” Mom said. “But remember we’re on a budget.”
I nodded and looked for ideas as I followed her. I’d just picked up a jar of pasta sauce when I caught the unmistakable scent of goth girl’s heavy perfume. My heart kicked into overdrive as I casually glanced up.
She stood at the end of the aisle, watching me.
Our gazes locked.
Sam said she wasn’t the killer and hadn’t seemed too concerned about her when I’d shown him her picture. That meant I wasn’t in any immediate danger then, right?
Then she glanced at Mom.
My heart froze. Fear crawled up my spine.
Goth girl’s gaze shifted back to me, and she nodded meaningfully toward the next aisle before walking that way.
Follow her or stay and risk Mom?
I carefully set the jar back on the shelf, took several quiet, calming breaths, and turned to Mom.
“I’m going to go look at cookies.”
“Fine, but no buying them, Clarity. I mean it.”
I waved that I understood and followed the perfume trail two aisles over.
She was there, staring at the cookie selection like she was considering her options. I joined her, keeping an arm’s length away, not that I thought that would keep me any safer.
“Still looking for a job?” I kept my tone conversational and my voice low as I picked up a package of date cookies.
“That’s not what I’m looking for.” Her voice was soft and surprisingly girly for how she dressed. I didn’t remember that from the ice cream shop.
“Then why were you at the library that day?”
She turned toward me, any pretense of shopping gone.
“It was you,” she said.
“Me? You think I—” I dropped my voice with a whisper. “You think I did that? I think you did that.”
She huffed a sigh. “Neither of us did it. But I think you saw something I didn’t. We need to talk. But not here. Find a way to meet me tonight. Alone. You say where and when, and I’ll be there.”
“I’m not stupid. I’m not meeting you anywhere alone.”
A glint of impatience flickered in her gaze.
“I don’t have time to play with you, human. You and your mom could be in danger. It left, which means it knows you saw something. I need to know what. Meet me while I’m asking nicely.”
Her words carried a hint of growl at the end, but that wasn’t why I was actually considering meeting with her. It was her impatience. Despite it, she was asking to talk, even after openly calling me human. If she wanted to hurt me, no one in this store could stop her.
“How much time do we need?” I asked.
She visibly calmed.
“Fifteen. Maybe twenty minutes.”
“There’s a football game tonight at the school. You’ll need to get through security, so don’t bring the knife. I might be able to give you ten by the bathroom at halftime.”
She nodded and walked the other way.
“Clarity?” Mom said from behind me, making me jump. “Who was that?”
I shrugged and held up a package of cookies with a hopeful smile.
“I’ll share them with Sam.”
“No.”
“What if I said they’ll help distract me from wanting to make out with him?”
“He’d probably ask me not to buy them,” she said even as she tossed them into the cart.
I grinned despite my conflicted feelings, and followed her to the checkout.
Was I taking a risk by meeting goth girl tonight?
Yes.
But she’d said we were in danger, not just me. And I knew it had to do with whatever killed Mr. Clint. If I wanted to know what, I had to meet her.
Mom and I spotted Sam waiting in our driveway at the same time.
“That doesn’t look good,” she said. “I wonder what happened.”
I’d happened. He’d felt my fear and could probably still feel my nervousness.
“We might need a minute to talk alone, again,” I said. “Would you mind if we used my room instead of going to his house? I don’t want to be late for the game.”
“After the cookie comment, I think I’d prefer your room.”
I flashed her a grin.
Sam opened my door, his gaze locked on mine as I got out.
“Do you mind carrying the groceries in?” Mom asked him.
His gaze narrowed on me, and I knew he’d felt my amusement despite my straight face.
“Of course,” he said.
I hurried inside, taking the few extra seconds to think through what I would say.
Lying was out, obviously. If he suspected anything, he’d be more overprotective than Mom and never take me to the game.
Or worse, he’d tell Mom. So I’d need to distract him with things that were true, but not the reason for what he felt.
No problem. I was great at deflecting what I didn’t want to talk about.
“Set them on the table, and I’ll take it from there. I think Clarity wants to talk to you. Five minutes, tops,” Mom said. “Take the cookies. You might need them.”
She tossed them to Sam, who looked completely confused. I laughed.
“Come on. I’ll officially show you my room. The new window’s pretty nice.”
The spark of regret I felt from him had me grinning until the door shut and he pinned me against it.
His kiss was everything…except long enough.
He nuzzled my neck when I tried to keep going.
“Talk, Clarity. Why were you afraid at the grocery store?”
I huffed a sigh even as I felt a jolt of nerves in my middle.
My own nerves.
“I thought I’d like being able to feel what the other is feeling, but now, I’m not sure.
What happens when I’m really embarrassed about something and don’t want to talk about it yet?
You’ll know I’m embarrassed, and you’re going to want to understand why to help me not feel embarrassed, right?
That means talking about things before I’m ready. That’s…intimidating.”
He lifted his head, his gaze questioning.
The nerves spiked, right on cue, and my face flushed.
“For example, the cookies you’re holding aren’t something my mom would normally buy.
Like, ever. I always try, though. They’re cookies.
They’re delicious.” My face grew warmer.
“But so are you. So I asked if she’d get them so I could eat them instead of you.
Basically. I’m rephrasing. But you get what I mean, right? Some things, I just—”
He kissed me again. Aggressively. Hungrily.
It melted away my nerves and everything else that had distracted me from my need.
My need to touch him.
To taste him.
Just…him.
When he finally broke the kiss, I was dazed and breathing hard. His tender gaze swept over my face, lingering on my lips. His thumb brushed my bottom lip.
“I love you, Clarity, and everything you feel. If you’re not ready to talk about something, just tell me. I won’t push, unless I’m worried. Deal?”
“Deal. Seal it with another kiss?”
“How about a cookie?”
I wrinkled my nose at him.
“How about a room tour then?”
“Fine, but I think we should open the door for that.”
He agreed. With the door open, I showed him my room, including my collection of books and my childhood memories.
He lingered at the picture board Mom had made for me.
Holidays. Birthdays. Funny, quiet moments.
Mom had captured so many. It was like a glimpse into my past—one Sam couldn’t seem to get enough of.
“Who wants to take over chopping this onion?” Mom called.
We worked together to get the chili simmering, ate our quick dinner, and headed out to the football game with plenty of time to spare.
My nerves ebbed and flowed as Sam drove, and I knew I needed to give some explanation.
“This is the first time I’ve gone to a school activity,” I said.
“The haunted house was a first for me, too. Before you moved in, I spent most of my time reading. I didn’t really talk to anyone at school.
I knew their names, but—” I shrugged. “I don’t know why I didn’t join in.
Belonging wasn’t important to me. It still isn’t.
But I think I might regret it if I don’t make an effort before I graduate. ”
“Is that why you’re nervous?” he asked. “You’re not used to hanging out with them.”
“It’s more than that. I’m nervous about the future.”
One hundred percent the truth, but more of the immediate future than a generalized one.
“Mom goes to work and comes home,” I continued. “She doesn’t go anywhere fun. Just the grocery store and the dispensary. She was always on me to make friends. To do more with people my age.”
Successful deflection.
I shot him a grin and kept going.
“Until you moved in, obviously. You were the exception to the friend rule.
“But she never made any effort to make friends herself. Once I move out, she’ll be alone, even if we are right next door. I want her to make friends.”
“So you’re going to make friends first,” Sam guessed.
“Try to.”
“I think you already have. The group at the haunted house liked you. They included you in their conversation. And at school, everyone says goodbye to you.”
“They do. But so do the teachers. I wouldn’t consider them my friends. Aren’t friends people you want to hang out with more? People you’d randomly contact to go do something fun? Or maybe even not-so-fun stuff if you want the company?”
He parked in the lot, which had a fair number of vehicles in it for a supposed low-attendance game, and turned toward me.
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh? Why?”
“I didn’t realize how you felt and haven’t supported you spending time with other people.”
Guilt hit hard.
“No.” He cupped my cheek. “You don’t need to feel guilty about anything. Thank you for being hon—”
My attack kiss was both a preventive and a persuasive measure.
By the time I pulled back, I was straddling his lap and rethinking the necessity of being on time.
His hands kneaded my hips as he stared up at me.
“Do you have any idea how much you tempt me?” he asked roughly.
“Ditto.”
He gave me another swift kiss then opened the door, somehow getting out with me. He set me down, gave me one last kiss, and took my hand.
“Let’s go find your friends.”