A Fabrication of the Truth (10 page)

BOOK: A Fabrication of the Truth
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Chapter Fifteen

I felt different the next morning in school. I let my guard down more and it made me feel a bit lighter. The whole truth wasn’t out, but at least I could express my feelings for Dalton. Keeping your feelings in was never a good idea. In the hall, Dalton stopped and looked at me, a smile creeping across his face. I walked over to him. I really wanted to jump into his arms and never stop kissing him, but I contained myself.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to…you know…”

I knew what he was getting at, so to answer him, I stood on my toes and put my hand on his neck, pulling his lips to mine. He smiled at me through our kiss. My stomach did all kinds of wild flips. Our lips pressed harder together and Dalton drew me in to him – then we heard someone clear their throat.

“I see you two have sorted things out,” Caroline said.

With my hands still on his neck, I turned toward Caroline. “Yes, we did.”

“That’s a good way to start the day,” Dalton said, taking my hand.

“You guys have been together, what? How long? And you’re already barf-inducing.”

“Don’t be jealous,” I said.

Dalton dropped my hand and squeezed me in a hug. He took in a breath, then let go of both me and his breath. “I should get to class.”

“Okay, see you later.”

He kissed me on the top of my forehead and took off down the hall. I swore there was a spring in his step.

“I kind of am jealous,” Caroline said.

“I think I’d be jealous of me, too.”

Caroline shoved me in the shoulder, and we got on to class.

***

Dalton met me by my locker at the end of the day, my new reality waiting for me. Dalton and I were officially together, and it was exciting, but still a little scary. But then I looked at Dalton, his hands shoved in his pockets, his lips moving a little—I think he sang to himself—and any fears I had vanished from my mind.

“I have a doctor’s appointment tonight,” he said as I approached him.

“Okay,” I said. We hugged and then something dawned on us.

“Would you ride the bus home with me?” he asked.

“Definitely.”

***

The bus ride was all sidelong glances, smiling, and hand holding. I felt so relaxed and happy, despite everything he told me the day before. It just felt good having my feelings out there, being with him, even though we had to keep it secret outside of school. And despite Dalton having an appointment, I did actually see him briefly that night – just feet away, through the window next door – such a small distance that somehow felt like miles. Dalton rested his chin on the windowsill with his hands clasped on top of his head. He looked happy. Then I saw a figure in the doorway behind him.

“Close that window, Dalton. You’ll catch a cold.” His sister pushed past him and pulled down the window – I ducked down, hopefully in time.

I got a text seconds later:

She asked whom I was talking to.

What did you say?

No one – told her I was singing to myself. Supposedly, I’m not allowed to open the window anymore.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

See you tomorrow.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

I held my phone to my chest and smiled. I was so enamored with Dalton. I didn’t want to wait until the next day to see him, but I had no choice, so I closed my eyes and hoped I’d find him in my dreams.

***

Once again, Dalton and I sat side by side on the bus coming home from school. The bus smelled like old hot dog water and the driver couldn’t control the breaks – every stop flung me into Dalton’s side. One guy dropped his groceries, reaching for a pole before he lost his footing from the bus driver’s subpar driving skills. Dalton occasionally glanced at me and smiled, but then put his serious face right back on. He wouldn’t let go of my hand.

“Come over,” he said.

“Have you been smoking crack?”

Dalton laughed. “No, but there is about a three hour window today where nobody besides me will be home. It doesn’t happen very often.” He squeezed my hand.

I thought about it for a quick second before I spoke. “Okay, I’d love to.”

 

We got off the bus and walked over to his lola’s house, under trees that already lost some of their leaves, the sky overcast as a wind blew. Dalton let us into the house. It was the first time I was ever in there. It felt odd, but thrilling knowing that I shouldn’t be there.

“Best to go to my room. Then we can lock the door.”

I nodded and followed Dalton up the small wooden set of stairs that led to the second floor. Their house was almost an exact replica of ours, only flip-flopped. I walked up the stairs and studied the two portraits hanging on the wall – one of Hailey and one of Dalton.

“This is exactly how I always remembered you,” I said, taking in the picture of Dalton – his black hair all standing up straight trying to reach the sky, his lips turned up ever so slightly in a smile.

“Yeah, that’s my sixth grade school photo.”

“It’s kind of weird that an old one is so prominently displayed.”

“My whole family has been kind of weird ever since I was eleven. I mean, granted, they were never that normal to start, but after then…”

“I don’t blame them, really.”

Dalton nodded and pointed to a door right in front of him. I climbed the rest of the stairs and walked down the short, wood-paneled hallway.

“My room,” Dalton said, ushering me in.

“Looks in transition.” The room was full of stuff, but the yellow walls stayed bare – clothes hung out of duffle bags, books sat on the floor, some boxes were still taped shut.

“Yeah, I don’t know how much I should settle in,” Dalton said, scratching the tip of his nose. “My dad’s supposed to be gone three months, but he said there’s a possibility of extending that, so I don’t know.”

“That stinks.”

“Yeah, but we need the money. That’s why he took the position. All my medical bills have tapped us dry.”

“Well, that stinks, too. What about your mom?”

“Um, I think she kind of hates me right now,” Dalton said, looking down at the hardwood floor.

“Marisol said she went because she needed a break or something.”

“Yeah, a break from me. We got into this really bad fight, and I said something that really upset her.”

“That’s no reason to run away.”

“It was really mean.” Dalton sat down on the edge of his bed with his hands pressed together between his knees.

“Still,” I said, sitting down next to him.

“I told her when I die, I hope it’s in front of her and that it ruins the rest of her goddamn life.”

“Harsh…but she left you. I’d think she’d want to spend every possible minute with you that she could.”

Dalton’s face fell. “I might not die, you know. I could have years longer than expected. Medical research could come up with something.” He looked sad when he said it though, like he didn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Dalton. I didn’t mean it like that.” I lay my head on his shoulder.

He sucked on his lip and nodded his head a little.

“It’s just that you’re her son. She should never want to leave you.”

“I always tell them to pretend that I’m normal, carry on how they usually would. That’s what they’re doing. She just needs some time to think, clear her head. I’m a lot to handle sometimes.”

“But at least your mom will come back.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m lucky.”

“You’re the most unlucky, lucky person that I know.”

“How I’m the most un-rebellious, rebellious person that you know?”

“You’re a walking contradiction,” I said.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Want a snack?”

“Okay, sure.”

 

Chapter Sixteen

Standing in their kitchen, I felt like I’d get in trouble at any moment. Dalton searched through the cabinets while I looked out the window over the sink into the backyard – a simple patch of grass, much like ours, but his lola had flowerbeds on two sides of the yard. We just had a tool shed.

“We have SkyFlakes, bread, peanuts, or dried mangos. Take your pick.”

“What are SkyFlakes?”

“Pretty much saltines,” Dalton said, handing me a foil packet of crackers.

“SkyFlakes it is.”

“Something to drink?”

“Water would be just fine.”

“Boy do I know how to treat a girl – crackers and water.”

I smiled at Dalton and we headed up to his room with our snacks.

I sat down on his bed, leaning up against the headboard. Dalton sat cross-legged next to me.

“I want to know everything about you, Lexie,” Dalton said, ripping open a package of dried mangoes.

“Okay.”

“So start talking.”

“Well…my full name is Alexis Annalise Stein.”

“That’s exactly what I was going to guess,” he said with a totally straight face. He was fantastic at making jokes without cracking a smile.

“And yours?”

“Dalton Fernando Reyes.”

“That’s a good name. Sounds important.”

“Thanks. I like yours, too.” Dalton leaned in and gave me a kiss on the lips. The kiss started out soft and slow with his hand gently touching my jaw, then I reached up and put my hands on the back of his neck, drawing us a little closer. He dropped his mangoes, and his hands were in my hair, holding the back of my head – and the kiss deepened. Our mouths parted – his tongue explored my teeth and I sucked on his lip. We pressed so close together that our legs entwined, and it was like we became one. We were that kiss.

His kiss wouldn’t calm all my fears and anxieties about life, nor would it make everything better. No, I didn’t believe kisses could do those sort of things, but kisses could do many other wonderful things. His kiss sparked something new, awakened things in me both physically and emotionally. I could keep it with me always, like a thimble in my pocket.

It made me realize that I never wanted to let him go. It also made me hyperaware that I was a girl – one that had desires. It made me think about having sex for the first time. I tried not to think about boys like that. I never wanted to let anyone get close enough, but things were so different with Dalton. I wanted to bare my soul to him, let him see the very essence of my being, and that kiss just added to that.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like I was going to jump his bones right there, but I knew that when the time came, he’d be the one. The tingling throughout my body was a pretty good indicator.

Ours hands caressed and explored each other’s bodies – his hands on my back, mine on his butt, his thumb brushing across my breast and my reaction of a stuttered breath. I held him tighter and our lips crashed together. My heart beat fast – I couldn’t control my breathing and his body pressed so close to mine. He was so warm, his arms and back so firm – and then we heard a noise.

Dalton bolted up to sitting. “Oh, shit.”

“Someone’s home,” I said.

“Crap, crap, crap,” Dalton said under his breath.

“So, okay, what happens if we get caught?”

“If I mess up again, they said they’d send me away. Therapeutic boarding school or one that takes medically fragile students. Luckily, they haven’t found one yet that caters to both, but if they have to, they’ll pick a side…” His eyes widened and he shook his head.

“And off you go.”

“We have to get you out of here.”

“Will you explain to me what exactly a therapeutic boarding school is, and the whole medically fragile thing?” Even though I was pretty sure that related to his heart transplant.

The stairs creaked as someone walked up them. “Dalton,” a female voice called.

“It’s Hailey. The closet.”

I got off his bed and into the closet. Dalton closed the door on me and I could hear him throw himself onto his bed.

“Dalton,” Hailey said again, knocking on the door.

“What?”

“Just making sure you’re home.”

“Where else would I be?”

“The library, school…hopefully only somewhere that you’re supposed to be.”

“Alas, I’m on my bed.”

“What are you doing just lying there? You feel okay?”

“Yeah, just a little nauseous still.”

“That happens when they increase your meds.”

“I know – doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“It’s for the best, Dalton.”

“I know, Hailey.”

“Want me to sit with you?”

“No, but thanks. I kind of want to be alone.”

“Okay, get me if anything else feels off. You did good, telling Lola and Lolo. They’re proud of you, and so am I.”

“Thanks.”

I heard the bedroom door shut, and opened the closet door. “You weren’t supposed to hear any of that,” Dalton said.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“What happened?” I asked, the two of us still standing on either side of the closet doorway.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, not tonight?”

“I have an appointment.”

“Doctor?”

“Actually no.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Maybe, soon.”

“Okay, let’s get me out of here then.”

Dalton opened his bedroom door a crack and looked out. “I think she’s in her room,” he whispered. He opened the door more and motioned over his shoulder at me. We tiptoed to the stairs, pausing when a floorboard squeaked. I followed Dalton down the stairs and was just outside the kitchen when his sister’s bedroom door opened.

“Hey, Dalton,” she called.

“Yeah?” he said, shoving my shoulder, so I stumbled back into the kitchen.

“Dad’s on the phone. I don’t know why he doesn’t just call yours. He talks to me for like a minute and then asks for you.”

“Can’t help it if I’m the favorite.”

“Shut up, you ass. Come get the phone.”

“Be there in a sec.”

Hailey’s door opened, and she came out into the hall. “He’s right here, Dad,” she said into her cellphone.

Dalton sighed and motioned with his hand behind his back to the back door. I nodded, and he went to get the phone from his sister. I walked across the small kitchen. Unlike ours, theirs had been updated – tall cabinets and granite counters – but unfortunately the backdoor seemed to have not been involved in that process. It was the original, old wood door. I unlocked it and pulled, but it stuck, and when I pulled again, it made a loud groaning sound. I tried again, biting my bottom lip. It was like opening a door to some ancient crypt. I was too scared to try it even more. I heard footsteps and darted down a small flight of stairs into the basement, which was also similar to mine and my grandma’s – low ceiling, paneling, tile floor. But the difference came with how it was set up. It seemed they used it as a bedroom, most likely his lolo’s and lola’s. I could hear Hailey in the kitchen. I scooted further into the basement and texted Dalton, making sure my phone was on silent so Hailey wouldn’t hear it when Dalton texted me back.

Trapped in basement.

Crap. Hold on one sec. Still talking to Dad.

You need to get the backdoor open for me.

Okay.

After a bit, I heard Dalton call his sister’s name. “Kitchen!” she yelled.

I heard Dalton’s footsteps.

“Where’s my phone?”

“On your dresser.”

“Why didn’t you just give it back to me?”

“I don’t know – I stuck it on your dresser. I think somebody was calling as I walked away.”

“Sometimes, Dalton, you’re so dense.”

“And sometimes, you’re a witch.”

“Go get my phone.”

“No.”

“God, you’re so annoying.”

“I hear it buzzing. Whoever tried to call might be texting you.”

I could hear Hailey’s footsteps leave the kitchen. I tiptoed up the basement steps as I heard Dalton enter the kitchen.

“You might be as good of a liar as me,” I whispered.

Dalton shrugged and opened the back door. I slipped out under his arm and I could hear Hailey yelling at him as I darted away.

BOOK: A Fabrication of the Truth
2.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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