Junk Miles (11 page)

“
Don’t.” I put my hand on his.

“
Why?” he asked, his lighter in mid-air.

“
I don’t want to breathe your smoke while I eat.” I pushed his hand back down. “It ruins the taste of the food.”

“
Are you kidding? Look around this bar. There’s more smoke than actual air in here.” He shook his head. “If it bugs you, I won’t.”

“
Thanks.” I smiled around a forkful of dense, perfect crepes.

Without his prop, Saxon didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. He drummed on the tabletop, fidgeted with the utensils, made a big production of fixing the cup of coffee he drank in a few gulps. He tapped his feet, then drummed again. After a few minutes of his rotating distractions, I gave up.

“
Smoke, then!” I finally said. “Just let me eat in peace!”

He grinned. “You make me edgy.”

“
Nicotine makes you edgy. Don’t blame me for your bad habits.”

“
You’re the worst of my habits by far,” he muttered.

I ignored him, finished my meal, and felt disgustingly stuffed. The poor air was difficult to breathe, and it made me feel a little nauseous.

“
Do you want to head back?” I asked.

“
Alright.”

I put up the hood on my sweatshirt and zipped my jacket. It was cool and a little damp out. The clean, cold air felt good in my lungs, and I had to strong-arm the urge to run. Saxon was leaning over the counter, taking care of the bill. I was glad he brought money with him; I had nothing at all on me. When he came out of the café, I realized how much I liked the way he looked, a little wild and a little like he had a really bad idea he was going to try to convince me to go along with.

“
There’s a park there.” He pointed. “If we walk along the outer loop, we’ll take the long way back to the dorms. Will you walk with me?”

He asked to be polite. He knew I would follow him.

We walked in silence, the huge, black trees making a dark tunnel around us. The moon was only visible once in a while, through the long, gnarled branches that stretched over our heads.

“
I want to smoke.” His voice punctured through the quiet.

“
I don’t want you to.” I didn’t expect it to make any difference to him at all.

“
I won’t if you’ll hold my hand,” he said stiffly, waiting for me to shoot him down.

I wanted to. But what kind of deal was that? He shouldn’t smoke anyway. Why was I contemplating bartering with him at all?

I could see the dark silhouette of his face, could see the hazy puff of his warm breath in the cold air, and I knew that he was nervous.

I reached my hand out and my fingers grazed his. He reached out and caught my fingers at the tips. He pulled me closer, ran our hands palm to palm, then opened his fingers, pressing them between mine. His hand was big enough that it stretched mine a little to hold on to his.

“
I thought I’d be able to move out of your orbit for awhile, Blix,” Saxon said into the cool night. “I tried to get you out of my system. I really wish I managed to do it.”

“
You keep saying that.” He squeezed my hand. I squeezed back. “I’m really happy with Jake.”

“
That’s what makes this particularly fucked up.” Saxon moved his thumb along the skin on the back of my hand. “I want you and Jake to be together. I want you to work. I feel like giving you up is the only way I can make things even.”

“
That’s crazy and you know it. Your father is the one to blame.” A few months before, Saxon told me a secret that made sense out of all his infuriating actions; he and Jake shared a father. Jake had no idea. In fact, Jake lived with a man who he assumed was his dad, and they barely talked in general, let alone about potential family issues. There was a good chance Jake was the only one who didn’t know the truth. I left it up to Saxon to tell him. Or not.

“
My father isn’t here.” Saxon ground the words out bitterly. “But I am. And I screwed Jake so many ways, it should make me cringe. Yet here I am, finding a new way to screw him.”

“
Jake knows you’re here. He’s not worried.” It was a stretch, and neither one of us believed it.

“
I know I shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t be holding your hand and taking you out and flirting with you. But whether I do it or not, I want it and so do you. So what’s the difference?” His voice was silky, convincing. I had to stay above it.

“
There’s a huge difference. Everyone has urges, but you can’t just act on all of them. Acting on them is what separates good people from bad.” I was sure I was right.

“
Not acting on them is what separates the martyrs from the plain old humans, Brenna.” We stopped in the middle of the path. There was no one else around, just Saxon and me and the fog of our breath mingling between us in the barely moonlit night.

“
I’m not a martyr.” I looked at his shadowed face.

“
Yes, you are.” He took a step closer, overshadowing me. “You’re in high school. Why do you feel like you have to cling to Jake so damn hard? Don’t you want to be a little more sure before you promise yourself to someone when you might have feelings for someone else?”

“
I don’t want to be with you.” My voice was faint in the dark.

“
Yeah? Cause that’s where you are right now.” He took my other hand, and held both hard. “When you started dating Jake you kept telling me you weren’t his girl. You said you were your own person. But that wasn’t true, was it?”

“
It was. It is,” I countered.

“
It’s not. Because something in you is attracted to me. But something about Jake keeps you away. Don’t disagree with me. I’m right.” His voice was firm and soft.

“
You aren’t.” I tried to jerk my hands away, but he held tight. “I want to stay away from you because you make me nervous.”

“
I make you nervous because I make you feel something strong. And you don’t think you should feel so much for two guys at once.” He was telling me what I was thinking, and I felt like he was right, but I knew that I wasn’t thinking clearly.

“
I agreed to be friends,” I said in my defense. “I spent the night out here with you. How scared could I be?”

“
I don’t really want to see how scared you are.” Saxon pulled me so that I was pressed against him. “I want to see how brave you are, Blix. How far are you willing to take this?”

“
I can’t.” I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

“
You have to,” Saxon growled. “If you don’t, you’ll stay faithful to Jake, but you’ll always wonder. That’s no way to be.”

“
I don’t wonder with him. Stop this now.” I looked around for someone, something to break this spell. How could we be in the middle of one of the most populated cities in the world, but be so completely alone?

“
You lie.” His mouth was so close to mine, our breath mixed.

“
Let me go.” I twisted my hands, but he held tight.

“
Coward.” Saxon said it like it was a fact. It wasn’t the first time he’d called me that, and I knew that, even if it had a ring of truth, it also had a strong line of conniving challenge to it.

Abruptly, I broke away and started back on the path. Saxon followed. We kept walking, and we didn’t hold hands this time. My hand felt cold without his. Soon we were back at the dorms.

“
Hurry in,” he said flippantly.

“
I had a nice time.” I raised an eyebrow. “You’re a pretty moody friend, Saxon. You’re as much trouble as a boyfriend.”

“
If I’m going to be that much trouble, shouldn’t you at least reap some of the boyfriend benefits?” His voice was low enough that no one else would hear him in the hall.

My back was pressed on the door of my room and he had me caged in with his arms. I lifted my face and kissed him on the side of his mouth, very softly. He closed his eyes and pressed into me. He pushed off the door and smiled at me, then shrugged. “It’s a beginning,” he said ominously.

He turned down the long hallway and was gone. I went into my room, where the full moon had aligned itself directly with my window. I changed into my pajamas and fell onto my firm mattress.

Then I got back up and paced in the cool blue light, my feet chilly against the scuffed wood floors. I checked the clock. It was almost two in the morning Paris time. It was eight at night. Jake was home, and I could call him. It would clear my head.

I picked up my phone, but threw it back onto my bed before I could connect the call. Why didn’t I want to call him? He would help things make sense again. It would be simple.

Maybe that’s what I was afraid of.

Because this wasn’t simple. A few hours ago I had been so happy in Jake’s arms, Saxon didn’t even enter my head. Now, one night later, I couldn’t get Saxon out of my mind. What did that mean? I chewed on my bottom lip until it felt sore, and reached for the phone again.

I picked it up and squeezed hard.

Had I rushed things with Jake?

Was it fair if I swore I was in love with him, but spent all of my time in Paris imagining what it would be like to kiss Saxon? Was Saxon right about the fact that I would always wonder?

I sat on the bed heavily and held my pounding head in my hands. I rubbed my temples in an attempt to stop the full-blown migraine that crept up on me. I wanted this to be easy. I wanted to know for sure who I loved and why. I wanted to be in love without a hint of doubt.

But I realized that I could want as hard as I liked; the reality was already messier than I liked. I was in over my head, and this was day one with Saxon. My brain felt scrambled, my heart thumped heavily in my chest, and I had a panicked feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to maneuver this without screwing up big time.

I took a deep breath and yanked the sheets back. I snuggled down obstinately, intent on getting good sleep and rethinking this in the morning with a clear head. Maybe it would all make sense then. My eyes closed slowly, and my last thought was that the moon was pouring too much light in my room.

Before my mind could even process my gripes about the over-bright room and the unsettled feeling thinking about Jake and Saxon left me with, I was sound asleep.

Chapter Six

The next morning, it was Mom who woke me up. I was so happy to see her face over me in the sun-bright room. The ghosts of the previous night’s worries tried to rear their ugly heads, but I slammed them into the back of my mind and resolved to focus exclusively on exploring Paris with my mother.

“
Morning, Bren.” She smoothed my hair back. “We’re going to the Museum of Modern Art this morning. Are you ready for some Fauves?”

“
Yes.” I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “Just keep my away from the Dada. I’m in no mood for all that nonsense.”

“
I love a kid who can swipe a whole artistic movement away with one grumpy morning proclamation. Come down to the kitchen. Lylee picked up fresh croissants and I’ve got hot chocolate on the stove.” She smiled and kissed my forehead.

She wore her emerald green sweater and a herringbone wool skirt with a pink scarf. She looked like she belonged in Paris, and it made me feel a weird, warm pride. I got up and jumped in the shower down the hall, which had terrible water pressure, then wrapped myself in my towel and ran to my room. I shivered as I toweled off and dressed.

I wore my gray button-down shirt dress and red leggings with my new gray Chucks. I pulled my hair back in a high ponytail and tied on a red scarf as a headband. I made my makeup heavy and sprayed on some of the perfume Jake had gotten me, something sweet and citrusy that I had loved when I sprayed it at a mall counter. He had remembered, and, typical Jake, made sure I had it for Christmas. I grabbed my pea coat and headed to the kitchen.

Lylee looked chic and pretty in a black dress with giraffe print flats on. “Good morning, Brenna. You look adorable. My son will probably spend the entire day mooning over you.” She smiled, and I saw Mom grimace a little.

“
Saxon will be fine.” I glanced in mom’s direction, but she was stirring the hot chocolate with quiet intensity. “There will be a lot of stuff more interesting than me to check out at the museum.”

“
You assume my son is as highbrow as you are.” Lylee sighed. “With any luck, you might rub off on him.”

“
Talking behind my back again, Mom?” Saxon appeared out of thin air. His hair was shiny and damp, hanging a little in his black eyes. He had on a tight Killers t-shirt with a thermal under it and dark jeans. He was wearing Chucks, too.

“
Doesn’t Brenna look so pretty today, Saxon?” Lylee raised her steaming mug in my direction.

It was pretty obnoxious. I knew it made Mom more than a little uncomfortable, and I thought that should be obvious, but Lylee was oblivious.

He looked me up and down, and I felt extra irritation race through my veins.

“
She always looks pretty,” he said finally, somehow drawing anything nice out of the words entirely with his flat, bored tone.

“
Mom says we’re heading to the Modern Art Museum.” I tried to ignore it when Lylee rolled her eyes a little at Saxon. I had that feeling you get when someone who’s sure she’s cooler than you is making fun of you for being so square. I bristled a little.

Mom brought me a cup of hot chocolate and I thanked her. “I’m so excited,” Mom gushed. “Some of Brenna’s favorite Matisses are there. I can’t wait to see them with her.”