Burn Girl (10 page)

Durango was a small enough town that even if people didn't know my name, they knew of the “burned face” girl. Just as we all knew of the Rasta chick who carried a half-dozen hula hoops around town, sometimes selling them, sometimes just putting on a show. Just as we all knew of the lanky, homeless guy with the humongous backpack who rode the city's red trolley from one end of town to the other all day long. Would I ever get used to being so visible?

One place I didn't mind the attention was the Book Nook.

In one of my sessions, Jane had asked me to name something real in my world. I wish I would've remembered to mention James, one of the booksellers.

He was Cody's older brother, although I'd only learned that by accident one afternoon recently when Cody was doing his homework at the counter.

I'd known James a while, thanks to Mo's and my frequent visits, and he'd become an important part of my life. I counted on him to be at the Book Nook weekdays from 4 to 9 p.m. I counted on him to recognize me and greet me like a long-lost friend. He'd never once asked about my scar.

When he looked at my face, he looked directly into my eyes, making me feel like I was the only customer in the store and the only girl in the world. Although twenty-three, James looked more my age. A tall man-child with a sparse blond beard that never got its act together. I could see why Mo would crush on this guy.

I didn't admit to her that it was nice to see Cody at the store some days. I felt less self-conscious there than I did talking to him at school.

When I entered the store today, James was working on a window display. His brother wasn't around.

“Arlie! What's happening, girl? Where's your sidekick?” He had been juggling an armful of books but set them down when I walked in.

“Mo's at the dentist.” I pointed at my teeth as if the words had been ambiguous, then I cringed at my stupid move. Hopefully, my embarrassment didn't show too much.

“My bro's not here,” he said. “He went across the street to Magpie's for a smoothie. I could text him that you're here.”

My face burned hot. “I'm not here to see Cody.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”

To get him off the subject, I asked him about his window display on organic gardening and water conservation. While we chatted, a late-model Mustang slowed near the store, catching our attention. It was robin's-egg blue with dark, tinted windows. After a few seconds, the car peeled out. Customers turned at the sound of the screeching tires.

“What an ass,” James muttered.

“You know that guy?”

“Nah, but he came by the store yesterday. Just looked through the window but wouldn't come in.”

“How do you know it's the same guy?”

“He parked that sweet ride out front. I asked him if he was looking for someone. Then I tried to strike up a conversation about his car, but he just ignored me. Like I said, he's an asshole.”

James turned his attention back to the display so I left him to his work. I made my way to the back wall and sat cross-legged on the floor, skimming through books whose covers caught my eye. Frank had mentioned he loved sci-fi so I decided to check out a few series he'd recommended.

Lost in thought, I barely noticed the pink Uggs standing in front of me.

“Cody only talks to you because he can't see how hideous you look.”

There was no mistaking that voice.
Brittany
. Still on her personal crusade to make me feel like I didn't belong, although I don't know why she wasted the effort. I was more and more comfortable at school, so it was easier to ignore her and her friends now that I was making my own.

“Is there something you want?” I scanned the back cover of a book in hopes she'd leave me alone.

“You're pathetic to think you have a chance with him.”

Mo had been right. Brittany was in some imaginary competition with me for Cody's attention. I ignored her and kept my head low.

“I bet you're a drug addict like your dead mom. Why don't you take her lead and put us out of our misery?” She toed my leg.

I exploded from the floor, knocking her against a bookshelf. In a flash, she scrambled to her knees and slapped viciously at my face. I covered my head to block her blows. When I managed to shove my knee into her stomach, she grunted and fell to her side, giving me a clear shot at her ribs.

James and another bookseller reached us within seconds and pulled me off.

“What's going on here?” James asked, holding my arm.

“Bitch!”
Brittany struggled against the other bookseller, who wasn't about to let go. “I'm going to call the police.”

“You started it!” I shouted.

“Arlie, why don't you leave. Now, please.” James pointed toward the door of the shop.

I bolted, dodging a handful of startled customers and the looming shelves in my path. My lungs burned as I took off down Main, first one block and then another. I slowed to catch my breath, looking behind me to make sure Brittany hadn't followed … and hoping that James had. That's when I noticed the blue Mustang again.

It crept along so slowly that cars had to go around it. I quickened my steps and the car seemed to match my stride. I turned to get a look at the driver, but the windows were too dark. I could only make out that the driver was male and wore a ball cap.

When he revved the engine, I broke into a run and cut across the street, ducking into the alley that ran parallel to Main Avenue. The Mustang pulled a U-turn to follow me. Even though my legs felt like jelly, I kept running until I saw the entrance to the downtown parking garage. I climbed the stairs two at a time and hid near the railing.

From that vantage point, I saw the Mustang enter the alley, but it kept going, eventually turning back onto Main and heading south. The back license plate was partially caked in mud, but I could tell it was from New Mexico. I waited until the car was out of sight before leaving the garage.

Deep breathing couldn't stave off the panic attack coming on.
Get a grip, Arlie. It was just some jerk
. I turned north onto Main and began running again. I had to get home.
It can't be Lloyd. There's no reason for him to be in Durango. Don't be stupid
.

I slowed to a walk. It was hard to run and breathe and cry at the same time. I neared Buckley Park, jogging the last few steps to the trolley shelter.

Sitting alone on the bench, just a few feet in front of me, was Cody. He held two plastic cups filled with something pink like smoothies or maybe shakes.

Not this
. I willed myself to back up slowly and run the other way. Yet my legs wouldn't cooperate. All energy had been expended on my escape from Brittany and then the Mustang.

“Arlie? Is that you?” He scanned my general direction.

“How'd you know it was me?” I wiped my tears and straightened my shirt.

“I recognized your perfume,” he said.

“I don't wear any.”

“Well, you don't have to wear perfume to have a certain smell,” he said.

“I smell?”

“That's not what …”

“Doesn't matter.” I sat next to him on the bench and waited for the next trolley that would take me up North Main and away from the discomfort I felt.

“You okay?” Cody leaned in a bit too close so I slid a few inches down the bench.

“Why do you ask?”

“I thought I heard you crying when you ran up. And you're breathing really weird.”

His super-acute senses unnerved me. I could lie and say no, but I was sure he'd sense that as well.

“No big deal,” I said. “I was at the bookstore and Brittany decided to pick a fight. I guess the school day wasn't long enough for all the harassment she had in her.”

“What happened? You all right?”

I wasn't all right. Adrenaline still sickened my stomach and weakened my legs. I was embarrassed by the fight with Brittany, but more upset that James had kicked me out of the bookstore. I didn't want to talk to Cody about it—and definitely not at a trolley stop near a busy park.

“Seriously. Tell me,” he said.

“Nothing important. You waiting for someone?”

“Huh?”

“The smoothies. You have two of them. Unless you're just extremely thirsty.”

“Oh, yeah. James texted that you were in the store so I thought I'd buy an extra and wait here for you. I hear you drink one almost every day for lunch. I figured you must really love them.”

He handed one over and I took it, even though the gesture confused me. Who told him what I had for lunch?

“How did you know I'd be taking the trolley?”

Cody's cheeks colored. He took a long draw on the smoothie and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“James also texted you weren't with Mo today. So she wouldn't be giving you a ride.”

My world wobbled. Cody recording me singing, the fight with Brittany, and now this weird, planned encounter—I couldn't take much more and my shaking hands proved it.

“I hope I didn't creep you out. I wasn't trying to be stalky. I just wanted to talk to you somewhere besides school.”

“I'm just a little overwhelmed,” I said. “Give me a second.”

We sat in silence for a minute or two, which was awkward, but a better kind of awkward than figuring out what to say to Cody.

“I'm sorry if I've upset you,” he said weakly.

“No, no, it's okay,” I stuttered. “I'm still shaken up by Brittany. James had to pull her off me. He probably hates me.”

“Don't worry about my brother. He thinks you're cool. I just can't believe Brit got physical.” His knuckles turned white from clenching the edge of the bench.

I looked up the street, half expecting to see Brittany coming after me to finish what she'd started.

“You hurt?” he asked.

“Just embarrassed I let her get in so many punches. Although I did get in one good blow to the gut and two to the ribs.”

“When I get to school tomorrow, I'll talk to her. She can't go around bullying you.”

“No, please don't!” I begged. “That'll make it worse.”

Cody rubbed his still-bruised lip from the row with Nick. “Fighting's not what it's cracked up to be, is it? Maybe we both need karate lessons.”

His joking helped my breathing return to an acceptable rate. At least one that would allow me to speak if I could find the words.

“Your brother is something else,” I finally said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, he's making all kinds of assumptions. Like you wanted to see me today.”

“He didn't assume anything. I told him I wanted to see you.”

My breathing accelerated again and the adrenaline-fueled nausea returned.

“I mean … you seemed kind of angry the other day in English and then you skipped choral practice. I don't have your phone number and I don't know where you live, so this was my best chance to talk to you alone,” he added. “Hey, are you okay? You're breathing funny.”

I reddened to think he could read my emotions by listening to me breathe. I held my breath but felt even closer to passing out. I cringed at the audible whoosh of air from my lungs.

“If you don't say something, I'm going to call nine-one-one,” he joked.

I exhaled deeply a couple of times and managed to calm myself enough to speak coherently. “Nothing's wrong. I'm just having the strangest day of my life, and I have no idea how to act or what to say.”

I slumped with exhaustion.

“Then let's not talk for now,” he said. “Let's sit in the park and finish our smoothies.”

He found my hand on the first try and led me around the trolley shelter and onto the cool, green grass. We headed to the back edge of Buckley Park, which had the most sun. The angle of the grassy slope made it perfect for lying back and surveying what everyone else in the park was doing.

I placed my hand so close to his that I swore I could feel a charge between us. What would it take for him to reach over as confidently as he had in the trolley shelter? I kicked off my sneakers and pulled off my socks. The cool grass felt great between my toes.

“Do you like the smoothie?” Cody asked. “I didn't know what flavor you'd like so I went for boring strawberry banana. I had them add ice cream so it wouldn't be too healthy.”

My gut clenched. My first instinct was to lie, but Cody deserved better.

“Yeah, about that …” I began.

“Oh. You didn't like it.”

I noticed that his usually smiling lips had turned down.

“No, it's not that at all. It's hard to explain. Not a lot of people know …”

Cody sat up on his elbows. “Know what?”

I let out one long, low breath. “I can't taste or smell anything.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I have a medical condition of sorts. It's like my taste buds don't work. I can feel texture and sense temperature, but flavors? Nada.”

“Jeez, that's horrible. I can't imagine how hard that must be.” Cody cocked his head slightly more toward me as if he wanted to listen more intently.

“It can't be as hard as being blind,” I said.

Cody went silent and I wondered if I'd offended him in some way. I just didn't want him to feel sorry for me. I didn't do pity well.

“I don't know. I get by okay, but not being able to taste a cheeseburger and fries? Or pizza? Hell on earth.” His playful smile told me I hadn't put my foot in my mouth after all.

“Let's just say we both got bum deals and leave it at that,” I said. “At least my condition is the best diet aid ever.”

Cody laughed heartily. “Yeah, James said you were slim.”

“He did, did he?” I liked that James noticed and thought to comment on it to his brother.

Immediately, Cody turned purple. Not pink. Not red. Purple. At least I saw the full range of embarrassment the guy could feel.