Always and Forever (16 page)

His face had filled out and his hair was stylishly cut, but his eyes were as dark and soul-piercing as she remembered. “Hop in,” he said.

The van was carpeted in blue and outfitted with a small table and cushioned benches. “Looks like a home on wheels,” she told him.

He chuckled. “In case I don’t pay my dorm bill, I’ll always have a place to stay.”

His jeans hid his artificial leg, and she looked away immediately, afraid he’d think she was staring. “How did you find me?”

“I watched the school empty and kept an eye out for the pretty girls. I’d almost given up.”

“I had Brain Bowl drill.”

He glanced to the side. “Actually, I’ve waited for you before, but you always seemed to be with that girlfriend of yours.”

“Jory.” Melissa wasn’t sure if she was flattered or not. “You could have called and come by my house.”

He ignored her comment. “And then I saw you out front once with some blond-haired guy who looked pretty important to you.” Her cheeks flushed, remembering how she and Brad had attempted to
sidestep each other but wound up nearly colliding. “So I was right. He
is
important,” Ric said when she didn’t respond.

His condescending tone was irritating. “Ric, this is really silly. There’re a hundred guys at Lincoln High.”

“But only one you care about?”

She leaned forward, suddenly angry. “I think I resent this. You have no right skulking around the school, spying on me.”

He drove with one hand and reached over and squeezed her shoulder with the other. His tone was apologetic. “I was just checking out my competition, Melissa. A guy has a right to know what he’s up against.”

“There is no competition,” she said icily. “Brad Kessing is nothing to me.”

Ric’s grin was wide. “Good. Then there won’t be any obstacles to our relationship, right?”

“We have no relationship,” she told him, wishing he’d never come for her.

“I hope we will, Melissa,” he said.

It seemed to Melissa that dating Ric was inevitable. And once she got over her initial animosity toward him, she really did have a good time with him. Her mother was hesitant at first. “He’s older than you,” she’d said. “I’d rather see you date some boy from your junior class.” Melissa didn’t have the heart to remind her that most boys from her school avoided girls with cancer.

Michael, however, was more adamant. “Why the hell is he interested in a sixteen-year-old? Can’t he get girls his own age?”

“He likes me. Is that a crime?”

“He’s almost my age, for God’s sake.”

“You’re not my father, Michael. I’m old enough to choose my own dates.”

“If he comes on to you … ”

“Forget it. He’s really just a friend.”

Jory, on the other hand, had been philosophical about the matter. “I think you should date him and have a good time. Go enjoy yourself, but don’t forget: I want details of every date, every party. Do I make myself clear?”

Melissa did tell Jory everything, but she also wrote in her journal.

Melissa did not write in her journal about the first time Ric kissed her because it would have seemed too juvenile and because the kiss was hard and deep, serious and a little rough. He tasted faintly of beer, and her heart thudded like a jackhammer. She didn’t want him to know how limited her experience was in that area, so she returned his kiss with far more passion than she felt. He pulled away, studied her briefly, then kissed her again, this time more lightly. He said, “You give me hope, Melissa.”

“Hope for what?” She was grateful for the surrounding cover of the night so that he couldn’t see the faint tremors in her hands.

“For us, of course.”

“I thought we were just having fun, Ric.” Rock music drifted from the fraternity house as they stood under the sprawling oak tree on the front lawn.

“We are. But there’s fun and there’s fun.”

She brushed aside his innuendo. “And I thought you were attracted to my fine mind.”

He chuckled and locked his arms around her waist. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned because of having cancer, it’s to go after what you want in life.”

“Why?”

“Because life’s too short to stand around and wait for things to come your way.”

She leaned into his palms, which rested in the small of her back. “Are you ever going to forgive life for dealing you cancer?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes narrowed in the moonlight.

“Ever since we first met, you’ve seemed really mad about what’s happened to you. Why are you so angry all the time, Ric?”

“Why aren’t you angrier?” He fired back.

“I am angry. Every time I go to the clinic and see those little kids and know what we’re all going through together, I get very mad. But being mad doesn’t change it.”

“And being so accepting doesn’t make it any easier,” he challenged.

“I don’t think I’m accepting of it, Ric. I’m not sure what I am about it.”

“I know one thing you are,” he said, his voice softer, smoothing over the anger that had reared between them.

“What?” She asked suspiciously.

“You’re pretty.” He brought his mouth to hers.

She caught her breath. “Don’t do that.”

“Why?” He traced the outline of her lips with his finger. “Sometimes I think this is all there is, Melissa. Feeling, hearing, tasting, seeing … What else can there be?”

She slipped from his grasp and waited for her pulse to stop racing, her blood to stop pounding in her ears. “I don’t know what else there is, but I just think there’s more.”

His expression grew cynical. “Well, even if there is ‘more,’ this is where I want to start—with what I
can touch and hold on to.” He took her by the waist again and pulled her against him. She felt the hard outline of his body against the length of hers. Where their legs touched, she sensed his prosthesis through her jeans, and Ric relaxed his hold, knowing that she felt it. “Sometimes I forget my leg isn’t there,” he said. “Even a year after the amputation, I can still feel pains in my leg, still feel my foot. Ghost pains they call it.”

Eager to help him forget, she said quickly, “I remember my hair in the same way. I sometimes reach to lift it when I sit down like I used to do so it wouldn’t get caught on the back of a chair. And when I brush my wig, I often drop the brush because I expect my hair to be longer. Just for a moment I wonder why it isn’t. Then I remember.”

Ric fingered the tips of the wig. “This doesn’t feel false,” he whispered, burying his face in the side of her neck. “And it smells like you. Like fresh flowers.”

The tingling sensation started in the pit of her stomach and diffused through her body with the warmth of his breath on her skin. “Thank you.”

His mouth found hers again and this time his kiss was long and slow. She slipped her arms around his neck and let him stroke the contours of her body. She felt like satin inside. “We’re a lot alike, Melissa.”

He’d told her the same thing months before, when they’d been in the hospital. At the time, she’d resented the comparison. Now, she agreed with him. Their illness bound them together with invisible bands and they
were
alike. More alike than she and Brad would ever be. “Let’s go inside,” she said to him while her mind swirled and spun with the sensations his touch was arousing.

“All right,” he said, his voice husky. “But I won’t
always let you back off this way, Melissa. I’m not some high school kid, and I know what I want.”

Melissa understood, but she didn’t know what she wanted. She only knew she
wanted
. Deep inside her heart, she wanted.

“So how’s college life?” Jory asked, taking a bite of apple.

“Why do you ask?”

“We never talk about you and Ric, that’s all. I’m curious.”

Melissa picked at the thick pile carpet in Jory’s family room, ignoring the VCR movie that blared in the background. “There’s not much to talk about.”

“Come on, Melissa. You can talk to me. I’m not your mother. Haven’t I spilled my guts about every date I’ve had this year? I expect the same courtesy from you.”

Melissa smiled. “I don’t know what you want to hear. I’ve told you all about the frat parties. I’ve told you where he takes me, what we do.”

“But not how you
feel,”
Jory said. “Do you care about him?”

“In a way,” Melissa said.

“Ugh! You talk but you say
nothing!”

“It’s a good trait for a lawyer to have,” Melissa joked. She knew she was putting Jory off and it bothered Melissa because they’d shared everything over the years. But these were thoughts and feelings she’d never known before, until Ric had brought them out. She couldn’t talk it out, she couldn’t share it, not even with her best friend. Jokingly, she raised her right hand and said, “I solemnly swear to tell Jory Delaney all my future plans from this day forth, so help me Hannah.”

*  *  *

By the middle of March, the Brain Bowl drills were going like clockwork. Melissa and Brad and a science whiz named Lyle Vargas were the backbone of the team. She hadn’t really known Lyle until Brain Bowl started, but she liked him. He was not only sensitive to her, but he seemed to like Jory, and Melissa thought they would make a nice couple if only she would give him the time of day.

Melissa was sure that the Lincoln High Brain Bowl team had a shot at advancing through the round-robin. Following a grueling practice session in late March, Melissa trudged out onto the grassy area in front of the school and looked around for Ric’s van. It wasn’t parked in its usual place, which meant he was late. She crossed her legs and dropped to the ground, running her palm over the spring growth of fine green grass. The soft blades reminded her of the hair sprouting beneath her wig.

The sun beat warmly on her shoulders, and she could smell the rich, loamy earth she sat on. She saw someone approaching and squinted. The girl stopped a short distance from where Melissa was sitting.

Melissa tried to place the face.
Sarah
. The girl waved, and a bronze Firebird pulled up alongside of her. But it wasn’t the car or its driver that caught Melissa’s eye. It was the gleaming gold ID bracelet locked on Sarah’s wrist. Sarah was Brad’s girl.

Brad drove off and a lump wedged in her throat. “This is stupid!” she said out loud, standing and dusting her jeans furiously. Hadn’t she known for months about Sarah and Brad? It was silly for her to react to it.

A horn blew and Ric hailed her. She jumped into the van, slamming the door hard. “Who rattled your cage?” Ric asked.

“No one. It was a long day.”

“Brain Bowl didn’t go well?”

“I said it was a long day. Don’t go reading something into nothing.”

Ric shrugged and pulled away from the curb so fast that the tires squealed. “How about a hamburger?”

“Mom’s expecting me for dinner.”

“How about going out later to the library at the university? I’ve got a research paper to get moving on.”

“I need to spend some time at home. Mom’s starting to get on my case about going out all the time.”

“You’re avoiding me.”

She gritted her teeth. “I just need some time to myself, Ric. That’s all.” Without warning, he pulled the van onto a small, dusty road that wound its way into some woods. “Where are you going?” she snapped. “I told you I needed to get home.”

He ignored her until they reached a clearing and he shut off the engine. Opening her door he hauled her out. “Come on. Let’s walk.”

“Ric … please, I don’t want to walk.”

Taking her elbow, he led her along, past trees dripping with Spanish moss, toward a river, where he stopped and turned her to face him. “It’s nice out here, Melissa. I sometimes come here to study and think.”

Still angry, she took a few deep breaths before scanning her surroundings. Wild azalea bushes burst with fuchsia and pink blossoms, and water gurgled over rocks. “You’re right. It’s very pretty out here.”