What If (17 page)

I run my tongue along her lips and they part for me. The kiss is slow and careful but edged with a heat that makes my muscles tighten. I wrap my arms around her waist and start kissing with a little more need.

I’ve waited my entire life to kiss this girl, and I could never have prepared myself for it. I’m burning up on the inside. And I don’t want her to pull away. I can’t let her pull away. And when she exhales against my mouth, I come undone. I’m an inferno.

I slide my hand under the sweatshirt, running my fingers along her skin. Her back arches and she eases back, separating us. A smile creeps across her red lips. “Want to watch a movie?”

I shake my head. Before I can kiss her again, she laughs and slides off my lap. I can’t move. My body hasn’t cooled enough yet. The flames are still lapping under my skin, and if I’m going to sit on the couch with her without attacking her, I need to extinguish them.

“Where’s your broom?” Nyelle asks from behind me.

“Next to the refrigerator,” I choke out. I ease myself up off the chair and roll it back into my room, taking the biggest breath of my life. “Holy shit,” I murmur, gripping the back of it tight while staring at my desk.

“You play the guitar?”

I whip around to find Nyelle in the doorway, looking across the room at the acoustic guitar leaning against the wall.

“Sorta,” I answer, clearing my throat. She wouldn’t know this about me since I didn’t start playing until high school. “Rae usually brings her guitar when she visits, and we mess around. She’s better than I am. I just try not to suck too bad.”

Nyelle walks across the room, picks it up, and sits cross-legged on the bed. She supports it across her lap and plucks at a few strings, having no idea how to play. I lay down on my side with my head propped up, watching her. She’s concentrating like she can figure it out just by touching it. I like watching her fingers fumble through the chords, knowing she doesn’t feel she needs to hide them from me anymore.

“Can I ask you something?”

Nyelle stops and nods, looking me in the eyes intently, like she’s bracing herself.

“Last night when you were drunk… You said you didn’t go to Crenshaw—how are you living in the dorms?” I’ve tried to figure out how, or when, to ask her about this since she confessed. I don’t want to ask too much too soon. She’s just beginning to trust me, and I can’t screw that up.

“Why are you here if you don’t go to the school? Crenshaw isn’t exactly exciting.”

Her shoulders relax, and a small smile appears. “It was on the list.”

“ ‘Fake attending Crenshaw’ was on the list?” I ask in amazement. “Why? And what is this crazy list?”

“It just was.” Nyelle shrugs. “It’s a list of things I need to do. And Crenshaw was on it. I’m only here for a semester.”

I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t—this upcoming week is finals week. The last week of the semester.

Nyelle continues like she doesn’t notice the shock on my face, although I’m not doing anything to hide it.

“The day after everyone moved into the dorms, I followed some girls into the building. I hung around the lounge like I belonged there and listened. Girls like to talk. I found out who had single rooms and that Tess was one of them. I showed up, claiming to be her new roommate. Tess is too nice to question it, so she let me in. I get into the building when other girls enter and don’t go to our room unless Tess is there. She thinks I knock all the time to be polite, in case she’s with a guy. She’s always bright red when she answers the door. I mean, she’s
never
with a guy. But she’s too embarrassed to admit it.”

Nyelle laughs.

I’ve barely heard a thing she’s said. “So you’re leaving next week? After finals?”

She shifts her eyes down, running her hands along the guitar. “I have to.”

“Don’t,” I say quickly.

“What?” she asks, as surprised as I am by the desperation in my voice.

I’ve been afraid every day since I first saw her in Bean Buzz that there’d come a day I’d lose her again. Now she’s telling me it’s going to happen… and when. And I can’t let her.

“Don’t leave,” I plead.

“Cal.” She laughs. “I don’t go to school here. Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“So. Stay here. You can… move in with us,” I offer, sitting up.

She studies me for a moment, then shakes her head. “I can’t. Cal, I’m sorry.”

I swallow. My thoughts are racing. I’m trying to figure out what I have to say to convince her to stay.

“How about… just till the end of break?” I suggest, my words coming out in a rush. “Just hang out with me for a little while longer. I feel like I just met you, and… I’m not ready for you to leave.”

She smiles softly. Nyelle runs her eyes along my face thoughtfully. I’m afraid to move. I’m afraid that if I blink, she’ll disappear.

“Till the end of break,” she repeats in contemplation. “That’s… a month from now, right?”

I nod. She presses her lips together, hesitating.

“Okay.” The words come out so quietly, I’m not sure I hear her.

“Okay?” I confirm. She nods. I feel like I just won… the Super Bowl. I want to grab her, throw her down on the bed, and kiss her. But I don’t. I can’t freak her out. Just because she’s saying okay now doesn’t mean she won’t change her mind.

I’m suddenly feeling bolder than usual, because any other day of my life, these words would never come out of my mouth. “Stay here with me after finals. Eric goes home for break, so I’ll sleep in his room.”

“You’re not going home?”

I grimace. I’m
supposed to
go home. My mother will kill me if I’m not there for Christmas. She might still kill me when she finds out I’m not coming home for the entire break.

“I will for Christmas—”

“Cal, don’t stay here because of me. Your family—”

“Is going to be there. Forever. Trust me. They’re not going anywhere. You’re giving me one month. They’ll get over it.”

Nyelle’s cheeks grow pink as she studies the guitar. “That’s sweet.” Then she whips her head up at me with a scowl. “I’m not going to be one of your girls, Cal!”

“Uh,” I say, backing away with my hands raised in defense. “Of course not. That’s not… Wow. I won’t touch you. I promise.” Then I add, “Unless you want me to.”

Her frown deepens.

“Or never again.”

She smirks.

“Just don’t leave,” I request sincerely. “Not yet.”

“Not yet,” she agrees under her breath, flipping her fingers over the guitar strings.

December—Seventh Grade

“What are you staring at?” I ask, pushing my way past the people standing in the hall.

When I get closer, I see Cal bent down, holding Nicole’s hand, talking to her quietly. She’s sitting on the floor leaning against a locker, shaking her head. She doesn’t react to whatever he’s saying. She’s staring at the wall with the saddest look on her face.

“What happened?” I ask, kneeling beside her. “Nicole, what happened?”

“He’s going to be so disappointed in me,” she says, slowly facing me. In her other hand, she’s gripping a piece of paper. Her report card. There’s black ink smeared on it. It’s also on the tips of her fingers and on her skirt. “I can’t show him this.”

“Let me see,” I say, removing it from her fist. I flatten it out and examine each grade. They look fine to me. I hear whispering behind me and stand up.

“What are you looking at?” I holler, getting in the face of the closest person hovering behind us.

“Uh, nothing,” the short boy with the pimply face says. He moves on, and the rest of the crowd reluctantly breaks up too when I continue to glare at them.

I turn back to Nicole. “Okay, let’s get you off the floor.” I reach down and help Cal lift her by her elbows. She still looks like she’s in a trance, and it’s creeping me out. “What grade?”

“History,” she murmurs.

“You got an eighty-nine,” I report. “And a ninety-two last quarter, so it’s still an A average. That’s not bad.”

“He doesn’t think like that,” Nicole responds, looking at the floor. “It’s a B. It might as well be an F.” She lets out a huge sigh. “I really hate history.”

A small laugh escapes from Rae, who’s leaning against a locker. I scowl at her.

“What?” she says. “The way she said it was funny.”

I need to think. Her dad is ridiculous, and I know she has to get into Harvard or she’ll pretty much not exist to him. Which is dumb since we’re only in seventh grade. I bite my lip, thinking.

“What happened to your fingers and your dress?” I ask, looking Nicole over. I’m afraid she might pass out.

“I broke my pen when I saw the grade.”

“Okay,” I say with a heavy breath. “This is what we’re going to do. Cal, take Nicole to the shop room to use that smelly soap to wash her hands. Rae come to Mrs. Wilson’s office with me.”

“What are we going to do?” Rae asks, her eyes perked up with excitement.

“We’re going to change her grade.”

Cal’s mouth drops. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him. “Take her to get cleaned up.”

“We’re going to break into the computer?” Rae asks, practically bouncing as we head toward the main office.

“Kind of,” I say. “I’m an office aide, so I know where she keeps her passwords. She tapes them in her drawer, which is so obvious. She doesn’t give us enough credit. We’re not stupid. Whatever. She’ll never know.”

“What do you need me to do?” Rae asks.

“Be the lookout. Stop Mrs. Wilson from coming into her office until I can print a new report card.”

“I can do that,” she says confidently. I never doubted it. Cal would be an awful distraction. He’d choke on his own tongue before he could find an excuse to keep her out. Rae can talk her way out of anything. I’m not worried.

I walk behind the counter like I belong in the office. Ms. Kelly is busy announcing the buses, and everyone else is out in the parking lot, making sure no one gets run over. Ms. Kelly looks at me.

“I forgot my purse in Mrs. Wilson’s office,” I tell her. She nods and goes back to her announcements.

Within minutes, I have the program open—it helps that she never closed out of it. Nicole’s ID is typed in, and the eighty-nine has become a ninety-one. Save. Print. And out the door.

“Have a nice day, Ms. Kelly,” I say to her with Nicole’s pristine, straight-A report card hidden under my jacket. Ms. Kelly doesn’t even notice me leave.

“Did you do it?” Rae demands as soon as I step into the hall.

“Of course I did,” I gloat, heading back to Nicole’s locker, where she and Cal are waiting.

I smile and hand her the corrected report card. She throws her arms around me, and I stumble back.

“You’re not allowed to cry,” I say into her hair, feeling her whole body shake. “You can’t let him make you cry.”

She lets go. She still looks like she’s about to fall apart into a thousand pieces. I take her hand. “I have an idea.” I start down the hall, but Cal and Rae stay behind.

I turn back. “You guys coming?”

“Sure,” Rae answers for them both, and they follow us.

We walk down the hall and out the door at the back of the school. There’s no one around. I lead us to the edge of the field, still holding on to Nicole’s shaking hand.

“I think… we should scream.”

“What?” Nicole asks, completely confused. I know it sounds crazy.

“You’re still superstressed, and you need to get it out before you collapse,” I explain. “So scream. Ready?”

They’re all looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. And maybe I have. But if I had to live in Nicole’s house, with her father expecting perfection at all times, I
would
go insane. I don’t know how she hasn’t lost it yet.

I take in a deep breath and close my eyes, and I scream. I scream for her and everything she has to put up with that I can’t do anything about. And then… she’s screaming with me. The next thing I know, the four of us are screaming, the sound echoing across the field. And it’s so… freeing.

Then Rae starts laughing, and soon we all are, because we do look like lunatics.

“We missed the bus,” Rae says as we walk around the side of the school.

“That’s okay,” I tell her. “We don’t live that far. Besides, Nicole likes to walk.”

“Shit, if it was going to be that easy, we should have asked her why she was at Crenshaw from the beginning,” Rae says on the other end the phone. “Now ask her why she’s pretending to be Nyelle.”

“She was drunk when she told me about Crenshaw. And it’s not like she admitted to anything that’ll help us.”

“Yeah, like why the hell Crenshaw would be on her list. Cal, this has to do with you, don’t you think? The coincidence is too weird. No one else we know goes there.”

I’ve thought about that too, but I can’t quite bring myself to believe that she’s here because of me. Especially considering how much she avoids me.

“I can’t believe you convinced her to stay with you over break.” Then she gasps. “Omigod, you’re going to have sex with her.”

“No. Uh, not… no,” I fumble.

“You were going to say ‘not yet’ weren’t you?” Rae accuses. “Cal, you can’t screw this up by sleeping with her. She’s already unstable. Don’t make it any more complicated.”

“How’s the demo coming?” I ask, redirecting the conversation.

Rae grumbles under her breath.

“I think the band’s breaking up.” Her tone is flat and depressed.

“But you haven’t even played a show yet.”

“I know,” she says in short, angry bursts. “Girls are… complicated. And dramatic. And exhausting.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But I did meet someone, and she’s pretty awesome.” Suddenly there’s way more excitement in her voice, and I’m not sure how to react to it. Rae’s almost never excited, except when she gets a new instrument.

“Uh… that’s… great.”

“Dude, we don’t have to talk about it. I know how much you suck at relationships, so it’s all good. I have Maura to talk to.”

“My mother?”

“Yeah. She gives great dating advice. You should talk to her. Maybe you’ll date a girl longer than the length of a movie.” Then she starts laughing. Again. I already hung up on her once when she couldn’t stop laughing after hearing about my date with Jade.

“Rae,” I warn her.

“Wait. Don’t hang up,” she says, trying to regain her composure. “Where’s Nyelle now anyway?”

“Getting hot chocolate and coffee.”

“And why aren’t you with her?”

“Because I’m supposed to be studying.”

“Did you make her walk?”

“She’s using my truck.”

“Your truck?! Seriously? You let her drive your truck?” Rae exclaims in shock.

“She does it without my permission anyway. I figured, why not?” I’d probably let Nyelle get away with anything she wants. I have a hard time telling her no. Like Nyelle said, it’s one of my issues.

My phone beeps. I pull it away from my ear.

“Rae, my mother’s on the other line. Please don’t tell me you’re sitting across from her at the kitchen table and she overheard this entire conversation.” It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.

“No. I didn’t tell her about Nyelle, I swear. But you should ask her about the repercussions of getting involved with a potentially psychotic girl,” she says.

“Going now,” I say, clicking over. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey. Were you on the other line? Do you need to call me back?”

“No. It was Rae. We were done.”

“Oh. Okay. Did she tell you about Jackie?” she asks excitedly.

“I… uh… not… yeah.”

My mother laughs. “She’s cute. You’ll like her. Anyway, I got a notification that you changed your flights. What’s that all about?”

I clench my teeth. I forgot the account was attached to her name even though I paid for the changes.

“Sorry. I was going to tell you about that.”

“Tell me? And why would you need to tell
your mother
that you’re not spending the holidays with your family?” I know she’s giving me shit, but I also hear the note of disappointment in her voice.

“Mom, I’ll be there for Christmas,” I assure her. “Remember that friend I was telling you about?”

“The girl?” She says it as an accusation.

“Yeah, her. Well, she’s transferring next semester, and I want to spend some time with her before she leaves.”

This conversation is killing me. I know my mother can sense I’m holding out. She’s way too smart to not see through my evasiveness. I just hope she doesn’t ask too many questions. I
really
don’t want to lie to her… too much.

There’s silence on the other end of the phone.

“Cal.”

“Yeah?”

Silence again. I run my fingers through my… much shorter hair. Still getting used to it.

“Am I going to meet her? This girl?”

“Probably not,” I answer honestly.

She sighs. I clench my eyes shut, feeling like I’m betraying her or something.

“How’s Dad?” I ask, using her silence to change topics.

“He’s working on my office above the garage… again. Oh! I almost forgot,” she says suddenly. “It’s actually the reason I’m calling, other than to tell you how heartbroken you’ve made me. But I suppose I’ll have to get over it.”

“What is it?” I ask. She knows how to lay on the guilt, and it’s working.

“The strangest thing happened the other day. Vera Bentley stopped by to drop off flowers from her garden, which is very bizarre since she never really speaks to me anymore. But anyway, she asked about you and how you liked Crenshaw. Then she asked if you still spoke to Nicole. You don’t, do you?”

“Cal, I got—”

I turn as Nyelle appears in the doorway of my bedroom. She doesn’t continue when she sees I’m on the phone… silently hyperventilating.

“Uh, no, Mom. I haven’t spoken to her in years.” I’m staring at the lie I’m telling. Nyelle’s eyes flinch ever so slightly. Otherwise, she hasn’t moved a muscle. I think my heart’s about to pound out of my chest.

“That’s what I thought. Did I just hear a girl? Ooh. Is it
the girl
? Let me talk to her. If I’m not ever going to meet her, then I should at least be able to hear the voice of the girl who is keeping my son away from his mother.”

“Not going to happen,” I tell her. “I should go. It’s rude. See? You taught me something.”

“Very funny,” my mother whips back. “I love you. Tell this girl your mother says hello. And I’ll see you in
two weeks
instead of on Friday like I’m supposed to. Just saying that out loud breaks my heart.”

“Love you too, Mom. Bye.”

“Bye, Cal.”

I hang up the phone.

“For you,” Nyelle says calmly, handing me a cup. “Your mother?”

“She says hi,” I say without thinking. Then I want to shoot myself in the head when her eyes widen.

“You told her about me?”

“No,” I say quickly. Nyelle’s eyes narrow. “I mean, she knows you
exist
. But she doesn’t know… Fuck.”

Nyelle closes her eyes and shakes her head with a laugh. “I forgot about your whole meeting-the-parents phobia. I’m not offended that you didn’t tell your mother about me. I mean, we’re not… dating… or anything, really.”

I nod, needing to swallow all words before I make a bigger jackass of myself.

“I should go,” she says.

And now I’m panicked, afraid I just screwed this up and freaked her out. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s okay,” she assures me. “Tess should be back, and you need to study for finals. I’ll see you on Friday.”

“Friday? Why Friday?” I clamp my mouth shut. I sound like a desperate girl. The girls I avoid at all costs. “Sorry. That came out worse than… Anyway… What are you doing all week? You’re welcome to hang out here if you want.”

“No. You study. I have things to do,” she explains.

“Will you ever tell me what it is you do, now that I know you’re not in class?”

“I do go to classes,” she responds. “I sit in on different ones all the time.”

“Just for fun?” I ask in disbelief. The thought of it makes me want to pluck my eyes out.

“Yeah, just for fun,” she says with a laugh. “The reason for just about everything I do. And yes, I’ll tell you what I do when I see you on Friday. Actually, if you want, I’ll show you.”

“Really?” I ask in surprise.

“Really,” she responds with a smile. “Bye, Cal.”

“Do you need a ride?” I ask, following her into the living room.

“No. I want to walk.”

And then she’s out the door without looking back. I slump against the arm of the couch with an exhausted breath. I think I’ve screwed up every conversation I’ve had today.

“Smooth. Real smooth,” Eric says from behind me. I turn around to find him in the recliner with a textbook on his lap. “You’re never going to see her again after that.”

“Shut up, Eric,” I shoot back, heading back into my room and slamming the door behind me. I lean against the door with my fists clenched, afraid he might be right.

*     *     *

I have no idea how I got through finals. There’s a good chance I bombed every single exam. All I could think about was Friday and whether I’d see Nyelle again.

“I was thinking about coming back the first week in January,” Eric says as he’s dragging a bag of dirty laundry toward the door. “That cool with you?”

“Uh, yeah. Why?” I ask, washing the last of the dishes. I’ve spent most of the morning disinfecting the place. I know Nyelle’s been here before, but now she’s going to be living here for the next month. I don’t want her to think we’re disgusting… which we can be.

“You’re staying in my room, right?” he confirms. Then smiles. “Or you’re not.”

“I am,” I insist.

“Right. Well, Merry Christmas and all that shit. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“Merry Christmas,” I return as he walks out the door.

I place the last bowl in the cabinet and scan the apartment. Other than Eric’s room, which only I will have to deal with, it looks pretty good.

Now what? I don’t know when she’s coming, or if I’m supposed to pick her up. We never talked about it. I wish she’d turn her stupid phone on.

So, I call Tess.

“Hey, Cal!” she answers, like she’s surprised to hear from me.

“Uh, hi, Tess. How were finals?” I ask, feeling the need to attempt a conversation before asking for her roommate.

“Glad they’re over. Are you leaving today?”

“Not yet.” I pause. “Is, um, is Nyelle there?”

There’s silence. I crush my teeth together, knowing how much that just sucked.

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Hold on.” I hear her say in the distance, “Nyelle, it’s for you.”

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Cal? What’s up?”

“I thought I’d pick you up.”

“Um, okay. Pick me up at four and you can go to work with me.”

“Work? Uh, sure.”

“See ya,” she says, hanging up.

*     *     *

When I approach the entrance at four, Nyelle is outside with a backpack and one rolling suitcase by her feet. That’s it. I was expecting more. Especially for a girl.

Her eyes light up when she sees me. She runs up to me and practically knocks me over when she throws her arms around my neck. I blink in surprise.

The shock disappears quickly with the touch of her lips. The entire world disappears with that kiss.

She pulls back, smiling. “Hi.”

“What was that for?” Dumb question, I know. “I thought I’m not supposed to touch you.”

“I like kissing you. That okay?”

“I can handle that,” I reply with a grin. I can definitely handle that.

“But I’m still not one of your girls,” she says before turning back to get her bags.

“Don’t even compare,” I say under my breath, reaching for the suitcase as she slings the backpack over her shoulder and walks toward my truck.

Nyelle sits with her leg pressed against mine, straddling the stick shift, despite having the entire seat to herself. We sit with the engine running. I look up at the dorm and then back at Nyelle, who’s watching me curiously.

“Did you tell Tess you weren’t coming back?” I ask.

“I left her a note.”

I nod. Then I ask the question that’s been stuck in my head since I spoke with Rae earlier. “Why Crenshaw?”

“What?” she asks, taken off guard.

“Of all the colleges, why is Crenshaw on your list?”

She smirks. “You tell me, Cal. Why Crenshaw?”

Nyelle tightens her blue eyes, willing me to answer. And I can’t.

“I don’t know,” I mumble.

“Exactly. I don’t know.”

I shake my head and laugh to myself. That got me nowhere.

I lean over and kiss the side of her neck. “Where to?”

Nyelle smiles and lays her head on my shoulder. She continues to confuse me with every conversation we have. But this girl makes me happy. Frustrated too. But mostly happy. And so I’m going to take advantage of every second I have with her.

*     *     *

Following Nyelle’s directions, we end up in front of a two-story office building twenty minutes later.

“This is where you work?” I ask, trying to read the names of the offices on the tall sign by the road.

“Technically, Lynn is employed here. But she pays me cash to cover for her on Mondays and Fridays so she can work her second job.”

“How long are we here until?”

“Seven thirty.”

“And how do you know Lynn?” I ask, still trying to find a connection between Nyelle and Crenshaw that isn’t just me.

“I met her on campus,” she explains as I follow her up to the second floor. “I helped her study for a biology exam.”

We walk through a glass door that has something about medical services printed on it.

“But you don’t actually attend classes,” I say, baffled.

“I like biology,” she says with a grin, continuing past an empty reception desk to a row of cubicles lining the windows.

“Hi, Keith,” Nyelle says to the only other person in the office. He’s sitting in front of a computer wearing a headset and squeezing a stress ball.

“Nyelle.” He nods. He glances at me without a reaction. Then turns to face the computer again.

“He doesn’t talk much,” Nyelle explains, stepping into the next cubicle. “And that’s funny, since that’s what we’re paid to do.”

She unwraps two headsets and plugs them into a phone before logging on to the computer.

“Here, you can use the training set,” she says, handing me one of the headsets. “There’s a chair behind you.”

“What do you do exactly?” I ask, pulling up a chair behind hers in the tiny cubicle.