Pieces (2 page)

But she didn’t want her past and present to come together. She didn’t want to date Finn, even if he did have gorgeous eyes and skin and a wicked tattoo. Oh, hell, who was she kidding?

“I’m sorry,” she said with an apologetic glance at him. “I can’t date anyone right now.”

Finn shrugged. Naomi expected disappointment to fill his eyes, but he seemed fine. In fact, he seemed pleased. He was probably the kind of guy who loved the chase. “Alright, as long as we can still be friends.”

“Of course!” The last thing she wanted to do was lose him. The truth was he was her only friend outside of Jesse. The only other person she could possibly consider a friend was her housemate, and that was pushing the definition. Becca was studying law. Since she was rarely home, they hardly ever had meaningful conversations.

“Good thing, then.” Finn gave her a warm smile and left to refill somebody else’s coffee cup.

Naomi picked up her pencil and continued drawing. After a moment, she snuck a glance at Finn. He was a nice guy. He didn’t steal jewelry. He didn’t kidnap people. He turned around, catching her gaze. A smile spread across his face as he passed by. When he was gone, her shoulders slumped. He really was great, but at the same time, it was sad how low she had set the bar for “nice guy”.

II

May

C
LASSES WERE ENDING SOON. NAOMI SPENT
as much time as she could at the library, studying for exams. She skipped going to the café two Wednesdays in a row, knowing if she saw Finn again she would give in to meeting him for a drink or a movie or hanging out. Something other than their happy conversations while she ate her almond cake and drank her iced tea. On the third Wednesday, her birthday, she woke up and stared at the clock. Eight-thirty. Sunlight filtered through the half-closed blinds, falling across her nightstand where her phone sat covered in a thin layer of dust from the past few days. She hardly ever took the phone with her. She never called anyone and nobody called her, except for her mother.

“How are your classes, honey? Are you meeting nice people? Have you met with your counselor this month?”

As much as she had grown to love her mother recently, their relationship still felt awkward, a child learning how to walk, always falling and skinning its knee. The awkwardness wasn’t a problem as far as Naomi was concerned. At least she knew her mother loved her now. At least they could talk to each other.

She picked up her phone and brushed off the dust as she thought about the dimple in Finn’s cheek. Then she thought about Jesse and his red hair and all his freckles. He was so not her type, but her heart beat faster every time she thought about him. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted to belong to him. He was strong and knew what he wanted—to change for the better. He had turned himself in after setting her free, and that was no small matter. She didn’t know anything about Finn. Compared to Jesse, he was probably boring.

But even boring sounded good right now. It was her birthday and nobody cared. Jesse cared, of course, but there was nothing he could do sitting in a cell. He wasn’t even allowed to send her a card or letter. Her mother might call her later. Becca might bring home a cupcake or something, if she remembered. Last year they had stayed up all night watching old 1980’s sitcoms and eating French silk pie from the Java Lounge. That was because Naomi had told Becca it was her birthday. This year, she didn’t feel like reminding anyone.

She remembered her birthday with her kidnappers. Jesse had given her an iPod. That was the same night Eric and Evelyn’s father had died in prison of a heart attack. That was the night she had started falling in love with Jesse. She recounted the kidnapping events to her counselor, a woman named Stacy Richards, every third Friday of the month. When she talked about the memories, they sounded ridiculous.

“Your situation was not normal,” Stacy said the last time they had met. “Most kidnap victims are physically abused. These people wanted to ... adopt you, in a way.”

“They wanted to keep my mouth shut,” Naomi answered, annoyed that Stacy was confused. She wasn’t supposed to be confused. She was her counselor. She was supposed to know everything.

“Oh, I understand that, Naomi. In fact, I think it’s excellent progress that you answered my comment in such a way. It shows you’re understanding the situation for what it was.”

But no matter how much Naomi spilled her fears and thoughts to Stacy, it never felt real. So many counseling sessions over two years. Everyone wanted to fix her, but she wasn’t sure she was even broken.

She brushed off the last of the dust from her phone and stared at the date glowing on the screen. Her birthday. Twenty-one. She was no longer in the awkward teen years and no longer in the limbo age of twenty. A serious adult now. Adults felt alive and important, and whether Jesse was here or not, she needed to feel alive, to share her feelings with someone outside of Stacy. She needed a friend. Someone. Anyone. Her life had become—or maybe it always had been—pathetic and lonely. The only time she had ever felt otherwise was with Jesse, and all he was at the moment was a memory.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she looked at her backpack stuffed with books and papers. To hell with all of it. Her class started in an hour, but for the first time in two years she didn’t want to go sit in a classroom. She wanted to go to the café to see Finn.

“G
OOD MORNING
,” Finn said after she sat down and pulled out her sketchbook. Her heart pounding, she looked up and stammered, “Almond cake and—”

“Iced tea, of course,” he finished for her. Today he wore a faded blue T-shirt and a pair of jeans ripped on the left knee. Somehow, this worked with his personality and the surfer hair. She had asked him at one point if he surfed, and he had laughed. “Only once, but the water was freezing, even with a wetsuit. Not sure I’m a fan.”

He was smiling at her. “Anything else you want to order?”

She kept her attention on his eyes, avoiding the coffee carafe in his hands. She wouldn’t let her memories ruin what she wanted right now. She suddenly wondered if her two-week absence had lessened Finn’s attraction to her, but as quickly as she asked herself the question, she noticed a sparkle in his eyes that put her both at ease and on edge. What a fine line this was. She valued his friendship, but keeping it on the friend level was going to be difficult.

“No,” she said, trying to smile.

She looked at her phone sitting next to her sketchpad. If her mother called about her birthday, she didn’t want to miss it. She wasn’t sure if that was incredibly sentimental or incredibly naive for someone turning twenty-one.

“Wait,” she said, reaching out her hand before Finn turned to leave. “I think I want something else.”

His half-smile widened as he looked down at her hand receding into her lap. “Oh?”

She could do this. She could. She was strong now, like Stacy was always telling her. She could keep everything in line.

“It’s my birthday today.”

Finn’s smile widened even more, a grin deepening his dimple. With a nod, he urged her to go on.

She swallowed. “And I’m going to get chocolate cake instead of almond cake ... and I ... I’ll take you up on your offer.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “Drinks are fine, if that’s what you want to do, but don’t go getting any ideas I want to date you or anything, because I already have a boyfriend. This is just as friends, like you said before.”

His smile fell, but not so far as to make him appear dejected. Perhaps a little shocked.

“A boyfriend? Have you had a boyfriend the whole time I’ve known you?”

He didn’t sound upset. He shouldn’t, she realized. She could tell he wasn’t implying it was wrong for her not to have told him. He was simply surprised. “Yes, I have,” she said, picking at a fingernail, “but he doesn’t live here, and I never get to see him, so it’s complicated.”

That was putting it lightly.

“I see.”

She knew he didn’t really see, but who cared?

“So, tonight, then?” she asked. “Are you free?”

“I am.” He glanced at his watch. “How about nine? I’ll pick you up.”

This was it. She was doing something, and it didn’t involve Jesse. He would want her to be happy and make friends.

“That sounds great.” Ripping a piece of paper from her sketchpad, she wrote down her address and phone number and handed it to him.

S
HE TRIED
on eight different outfits before deciding on a boring pair of jeans and a tight black shirt with a scoop neck. It was a safe outfit. It didn’t scream
‘sleep with me!’
She hoped it whispered
‘hey, let’s hang out.’

She looked at herself in the mirror and remembered the bedroom in the house, the smell of Evelyn’s rain-scented fabric softener on the sheets. She remembered curling up next to Jesse in the evenings. He had been sleeping with her for a few nights before he decided to help her escape. Being with him in her room was her fondest memory. She knew it sounded terrible when she admitted to Stacy, “I loved sleeping with my kidnapper. I know that makes me sound like a freak. Maybe I am a freak.” But Stacy hadn’t treated her like a freak. She had said she understood the whole falling in love thing and that what had happened to her over the course of a year justified her decisions at the time. Naomi wasn’t sure if that was true or if Stacy said crazy stuff like that to get her to talk.

“Are you
going out
?”

Becca stood in the doorway, her jaw dropping open as she watched Naomi fasten half her hair up with some bobby pins.

“Yes, but it’s not a date.”

“But you never go out. Ever.”

“Yeah, well, I am now.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you look hot. Does he know it’s ‘not a date’?” She made air quotes with her fingers to emphasize Naomi’s own words.

“I don’t look hot.” She turned sideways, checking out her profile. Maybe her jeans were a little form-fitting, sexy and tight over her butt and thighs. And her shirt hugged her too, but what else was she supposed to wear? Sweat pants and an extra-large T-shirt?

“Do I?” she asked. “Really?”

“Yes, you do.”

“Well, crap. He’s just a guy—a friend. We’re hanging out. It’s my birthday.”

Becca clapped a hand to her forehead. “I forgot it was your birthday! I’m sorry.” She had pale skin and short black hair Naomi was sure she dyed. Her lips were deep red. She was going to make an intimidating lawyer someday, like a day-walking vampire ready to take anyone down.

“I didn’t expect you to remember. I found something to do tonight, so don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so, but happy birthday, anyway.”

“Thanks.”

A knock on the door sent Becca into a frenzy. “Is that him? He’s coming to pick you up? That means it’s a date, I hope you know. What’s his name?”

“Finn.”

“Got it.” She spun around and raced downstairs, her footsteps pattering like a scurrying mouse.

Looking at herself again, Naomi decided to stick with her outfit. Finn was waiting by the door when she walked down the stairs. He was wearing the same clothes as earlier. That was a good sign, but now she realized she shouldn’t have changed.

“This is a nice place,” he said, looking around. “Like, super-nice.”

Naomi shrugged. She had forgotten how lucky she was to have rich parents who paid for her to rent an entire house, and a nice one at that. Becca’s parents weren’t bad off, either. A lot of the time she forgot what lengths people would go to in order to get money so they could live comfortably. That was what her kidnappers had done. It had all been about money and comfort in the end.

She thought about Jesse in a small cell with cinderblock walls. A hard bed. Crappy food. At least he would have time to read. He loved to read. But she had heard horror stories of prison and how awful inmates were to each other. And here she was, living in her fancy house, going to Harvard, and now heading out on a date with a guy she knew wanted to be more than friends. Her world seemed so shallow all of a sudden.

“You ready to go?” Finn asked.

She nodded. “Drinks, right?”