Transparent (22 page)

Seth protects me, fights for me even when I’d rather give up, treats me like a real person, not an invisible girl. He’s not manipulating me—he’s reacting to my emotions because he can see me, inside and out.

Seth cares about me, and I care about him.

I burst into sobs, and Miles wraps his arms around me. “Seth likes me.”

Miles pulls back. “What?”

“Seth. Brady was just his wingman, and I totally read it wrong and everything blew up. But I like him, too, and I can’t face him.”

He laughs. “Is that all?”

“I’ve never done this before!” I feel horrible for half lying to him, but Seth has kept all my secrets, so I should do the same.

“It’ll be fine.” He kicks my shoe. “You already know he likes you. I totally approve.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You can’t run because of that. Seth is a good guy, and I don’t think Graham’s lying. You’ll never be safer than you are here.”

I sigh. “Why do you have to be right?”

“C’mon, I’ll drive you there.”

Even though I feel sick, I can’t help but smile.

Miles opens the car door for me, but I can’t seem to move. Seth’s house is right there. Somewhere inside, he’s probably installing cabinets or painting walls or whatever else you do in renovations. What if he sees us out here and freaks? What if he’s changed his mind?

Now that I realize how much I care about him, I’d rather not see him if he doesn’t like me anymore. I already feel stupid enough after running away, especially since he put it all on the line.

You were fixing me.

The thought makes my face warm. If I weren’t so mad and freaked out, hearing that probably would have been incredibly romantic. It should have been. I should have let go of all my fears. But I ran. I hurt him. How am I supposed to face him again?

Miles holds out his hand. “Are you coming?”

“Do I have to?”

He sighs, leans over to unbuckle my seat belt. “Yes. You do. I kind of hate saying it, but he’s perfect for you. You
need
him.”

I shove him away. “Punk.”

He laughs. “C’mon! You can’t tell me you don’t like him. I’ve seen how you guys are. Haven’t you always wanted this?”

It’s true, but wanting and having are different things. Now that it’s a reality, I can’t idealize it anymore. “Yeah, but—”

The front door slams, and I whirl around, heart pounding. It’s not Seth. It’s Brady. He walks down the path, his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground, as if he’s trying to act chill. It doesn’t work. He’s biting his lip. “Long time no see.”

“Uh-huh,” I manage to get out.

Brady turns to Miles. “That’s quite the black eye.”

“Probably the best I’ve ever had.” My brother pushes me forward, like he knows I might bolt any second.

I haven’t
prepared
for this. If I had it my way, I would have spent lots of time getting ready.
I would have removed leg and underarm hair, dressed up in something nice, tried to tame my wild mane. But here I am in freaking Christmas-patterned pajama bottoms, a hoodie, and a grungy white tank.

Seth will think I look like crap. I
have
to look like crap.

“So, did she tell you?” Brady asks Miles warily.

“I told him Seth liked me,” I say, hoping he’ll get that I didn’t tell Seth’s secret.

“Ah.” He nods, clearly relieved, and heads for the house. When I don’t follow, Miles drags me with him.

The place is starting to look like a home. A nice one with personality and class, but not over-the-top like Dad’s penthouse. So Seth has been busy the last couple days. “He’s waiting for you out back.”

“Okay.” My heart pounds so hard it hurts. I force my feet to go forward, and I’m out the door before I can change my mind and run.

My breath stops when I see their backyard. It’s prettier than I expected. White paper lanterns light the patio awning. Flowering vines climb up the posts. Tall trees shade most of the lawn, which is as manicured as the front. There are rosebushes everywhere and in every color.

Seth leans on the porch railing, and I freeze when our eyes lock. I’m not sure what makes me blush more—the fact that he’s really looking at me or that I completely forgot how cute he is. He’s wearing a nicer shirt than usual, making me feel even grungier. The blue color matches his eyes exactly. His hair’s almost red in the fading light.

I missed that shy side smile more than I thought. It makes me want to run over and hug him, cry on his shoulder, and feel his arms around me. But I don’t. Not after the way I acted. So I attempt humor. “Your water bill must be insane with all those roses.”

His smile grows. “My mom loved them. She planted every single bush. Have to keep one thing to remind me of her.”

I nod, unsure of what else to do. It’s still weird that he sees my reactions. I wonder if I should try to hide them, but I’m not sure I can.

He pulls out a chair for me. “Do you want to sit?”

“Okay.” I can’t seem to get my words out after that. There’s so much to say and no good place to start. He watches me, and I can’t help but worry I have something on my face.

He frowns, looking away. “This is really hard for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not you, really. There’s just a lot to get used to. I have to think about things that never mattered before.”

“Like?”

I sigh. “If I’m sweating like a pig or eating like one. Then there’s every facial expression I’m not used to people seeing, and this feeling of … I don’t know, being exposed, naked,
visible.
It’s scary.” I hug myself, a wave of it coming over me. I miss hiding. “And you’ve seen me actually naked, haven’t you, in the desert?”

His face goes bright red. “Yeah, but that time was unavoidable. It’s not like I spend all my time undressing people. When I was younger, clothes were hard to hold on to. Trust me, it’s not pleasant to see your old, fat second-grade teacher naked.”

I can understand that, though it’s not completely comforting. “But how do you see through? How can you, um, keep my clothes on but see through my invisibility?”

He shrugs. “It’s hard to explain, but I guess it’s like layers. I can peel off different layers or put them back on. Some layers—thick ones—are harder to get through. I get killer headaches if I spend too much time using it to see through thick walls and stuff like that. But your invisibility is nothing. It’s hardly there, thinner than a spider’s web. I have to work hard to see you invisible, actually.”

“Huh.” I always felt being invisible was more like being surrounded by a cement barrier. “That’s why you didn’t realize who I was that first day.”

He nods. “To me, you were just some beautiful girl walking into class.”

“Whatever.” I wish he couldn’t see me blushing.

His fingers wrap around mine tightly, sending goosebumps up my arm. I peek up at him—his eyebrows are pinched with concern. “Fiona, I know this has to be hard, and I’m sorry I messed up so much and made it worse. I probably can’t understand at all, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about.” His eyes run over me, and his face softens. I can tell he honestly likes what he sees. “If you only knew.”

His touch feels even better than before. Somehow, it clears my head. I know I want this. I want him. It’s still scary, liking someone so real and messed up, someone who knows your weaknesses. But at the same time it’s intoxicating. He likes me—I like him—despite all the bad stuff. We both want it to work, and maybe that will make it happen.

I take a deep breath and squeeze his hand. “Okay. Tell me.”

He glances at the French doors, which is when I notice Miles and Brady are right there talking. “Let’s sit on the grass.”

He lets go of my hand, and we leave the deck. We sit on the cool grass under a tree, facing each other. In the dark, it feels like we’re miles from everything. All I can hear is crickets and my own breathing.

“What do you want to know first?” he asks.

“Oh, um …” I hadn’t really thought about that. For some reason I pictured knowing it all at once, like looking in a mirror and finally seeing my reflection. “I guess my hair. Is it as crazy as I think it is?”

He smiles. The moment before he speaks, my insides flip upside down. “No, it’s not crazy.” He runs a hand through my curls, and it sends tingles down my neck. “It’s wavy, some times more curly than others, but always pretty.”

“What color?”

“Dark blond.” My face involuntarily scrunches and he laughs. “Is that bad?”

“No, I just … dark blond? That’s the nice way to say dirty blond.” I feel stupid for being disappointed. I
know
my hair color for the first time in my life. I should be happy. But boring, mousy blond?

“Don’t call it that; I like it.” He takes a few strands in his fingers. By the way they tug at my scalp, it feels like they’re near my forehead. “Besides, the pieces closest to your face are golden. Sometimes they catch the light, and I swear they glitter.”

He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing in the world, which makes me feel like I am. “Well, when you put it that way.”

“What next?” He lets go, probably since he can see how nervous I am. But I want to hold his hand again. Am I allowed to just take it?

“Hmm. Skin?”

He purses his lips. “Let’s see … how do I explain that? You’re a little tanner than me, but not as dark as Bea. Maybe like caramel?”

I smile wide. “Caramel. I like that.”

“Me too. And you have these really cute freckles.”

“I do?” I might pass out. The hair color was a little let-down, but knowing I have even one freckle makes up for it. “Where?”

He looks down. “You’d have to take off your hoodie so I can point to them for you.”

“Okay.” The thought of my caramel skin having freckles shouldn’t be motivation for me to strip, but for some reason it is. I have the hoodie off in seconds.

He lets out a breath. “You never look bad, do you?”

“Shut up, I look like crap.”

“You really, really don’t.” Seth leans in closer. I can’t breathe right as he takes me in. It’s getting easier, but my heart hasn’t slowed. He touches a spot on my forearm, and the sensation radiates through me. “There’s one right here.” He moves his finger along my skin and stops on my upper arm. “One here.” Then he moves to my shoulder and points out four. There’s three on my other shoulder and four on that arm. He also points out two on my back.

I sigh, some of the nerves subsiding. At least I have freckles. The rest of me can be butt-ugly, and I wouldn’t care. Okay, maybe I’d care a little. “That’s so great.”

He smirks. “You sure have a thing for freckles.”

“I do. I really like yours.” I get daring and put my finger to his cheek. He doesn’t flinch with surprise. It’s still hard to process that.

Seth puts his hand over mine, pressing it into his cheek. I can’t help but smile as he wraps his fingers around mine and lowers our hands from his face. I like holding hands. It feels right. “I always got teased for them as a kid.”

“Well, those kids were stupid.”

“Next?” He pulls at my arm like he wants me to come closer, so I move from facing him to sitting next to him. Our arms touch, just like in the movie theater. He smells incredible, something like cinnamon but not as sweet.

“Eyes?”

“Brownish hazel, but not as dark as your brother’s.” There’s an edge to his voice when he says “brother,” so he must mean Graham.

I nod. I kind of expected brown, since all my family has brownish eyes. “What about my face?”

“You’re gorgeous.” He picks at the grass, his smile growing as he thinks. “Let’s just say everyone would be after you if they knew.”

I laugh. He has to be exaggerating, but it doesn’t matter. He’s the only judge. “You’re pretty smooth, you know that?”

“Nah. I’m just telling the truth.” He puts an arm around me, and I know we’re together without either of us having to say it. All my nerves are the good kind, the ones that tell you incredible things will happen. We stay like that for a few moments before he talks again. “It’s really your expressions that make you, though. It’s a shame people can’t see. I feel sorry for them.”

I look up at him. “What do you mean?”

He stares at the night sky contentedly. “Well, take your lips. Very nice, by the way, full and pink. But they’re just lips until you smile; that’s when they’re
your
lips. Your smile is intoxicating, and your pout is painful. I hate seeing you sad.”

I stare at him, taking in the words. They’re so simple, but they change something inside me. I’m real now. Whole. I never have to wonder again if there’s something underneath my invisibility. Someone sees me—all of me. I don’t know what to do with the happy current pulsing through me, so I lean my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I ran away. It was so stupid, because I already liked you so much. I just didn’t know what to do. I was so freaked out.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He leans his head on mine. “I totally understand. That’s why I was so scared to tell you. I knew there was a good chance I might never see you again. Why would you want to be around someone who lied to you? I wanted to say it so many times, Fiona, but then I thought about you leaving and … I couldn’t.”

A laugh escapes. “I think that was the first selfish thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Yes, you’ve turned me into a horrible person. I like being around you too much.”

“Heaven forbid you think about your own happiness.” Just one of his arms around me isn’t enough, so I climb into his lap and wrap my arms around him. He squeezes me tight, burying his head into my neck.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my life,” he whispers.

“Me either.”

Before we say anything else—or
do
anything else—a soft whistle comes from the house. Seth tenses as he looks in that direction, then his eyes go wide. “We gotta hide.”

“What?” He’s already pulled me to my feet and toward the side of the house.

“Graham’s here.”

We duck into a thick bush as I fight to restrain my panic.
Don’t scream.
Seth wraps his arms around me, and I bury my face in his chest. I can’t seem to stop gasping for breath. How did he know where to look? Why is he looking? Supposed noble intentions or not, there’s no good reason for Graham to be here.