Aven's Dream Page 11

  We stepped inside, and I looked around. The room was small as far as restaurants went, and the dark wood paneling gave the establishment a somber feeling. The dining area only contained a handful of cracked leather booths lining opposite sides of the room, making the maximum capacity a dozen people at the most. A counter stood along the far wall with the board above it serving as the menu. There were only two other patrons inside, both weathered men in faded coveralls and plaid shirts. Neither one looked up as we passed.

  Black and white pictures of the town covered the walls above the booths and seemed to be the establishment’s only décor, apart from the bare wood tables. In the background, I recognized a Frank Sinatra song, Young at Heart. I only recognized it because my dad used to play it as he swung my mom around the kitchen, causing her to crack up every time he stepped on her toes. I couldn’t imagine anyone from school coming here. It was too old school.

  When I looked at Will, I noticed that he was waiting for me to order. I scanned the menu quickly before asking the matronly woman behind the counter for a veggie sandwich, no mayonnaise, with fries on the side, and a Coke. I brought out my wallet, but stumbled when I saw that Will had already set a bill on the counter without ordering anything for himself. I shook my head.

  “Don’t you eat?” I muttered as we took off our jackets and moved toward the booth farthest away from the two men.

  I sank onto the bench and studied my non-eating lunch companion. He wasn’t emaciated by any means. Actually, now that I was looking, I could definitely see the well-defined muscles beneath his shirt. They were taut, giving the impression he was about to spring from his seat, but I wasn’t sure what he would do if he did spring from his seat. Will was unpredictable, if anything. It actually hadn’t occurred to me before just how well built he was, given how mesmerizing his face was. He wasn’t just beautiful—he was flawless. But it was his eyes that made it difficult to think properly, given they seemed to stare straight through me.

  “What was it you wanted to talk about?” Will asked, jolting me out of my assessment of his physical attributes.

  I had completely forgotten about anything else, and I looked away, feeling my cheeks burn—an embarrassingly frequent occurrence around him. Before I could answer, the woman who had taken my order appeared with my sandwich and drink. I smiled gratefully and said thank you before picking up a fry and nibbling it.

  “What did you think you were doing in class today—and the day before?” I asked.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  A faint smile curled at the edge of his lips.

  “You hauled me into class like a Kindergartener! People were staring,” I said.

  “Were they?” Will asked, his expression completely unfazed. He motioned to my plate. “You should eat something.”

  I picked up my sandwich and took a bite. It was better than I expected, with sharp cheddar cheese, fresh tomato slices, crisp lettuce, and tender avocado. I had to admit that it beat what I had packed for lunch. I swallowed.

  “Satisfied?” I asked.

  “Rarely,” Will responded dryly.

  I set my sandwich down and raised my hands over my head in frustration.

  “You’re doing it again! I swear, talking to you is like having a conversation with The White Rabbit. Every time you open your mouth, it’s some bizarre double-entendre. Ever since I met you, I’ve felt this close to crazy,” I said as I pinched my fingers together to illustrate the tiny amount of space between them.

  I snapped my mouth shut, acutely aware that I was the one acting crazy—again. What was it about him that made me nuts?

  “I never meant for that,” Will frowned.

  “What did you mean, then? Because I’m having a hard time figuring that out.”

  He was looking past me, his blue eyes suddenly a million miles away. I stopped, feeling a surge of guilt. Will had seemed so unflappable that I hadn’t imagined being able to upset him in any way. Hesitantly, I reached across the table toward him. When he pulled his hands back, out of reach, I looked down in embarrassment.

  “I should take you back to school,” Will said. “Finish your lunch, please.”

  I wasn’t hungry now, but I nibbled on my sandwich anyway until half of it was gone. I was briefly hopeful that Will would say something that would make everything make sense, but he just waited quietly while I ate. As we left, I looked back. The deli was empty again. The two men who had been having lunch were already long gone. I hadn’t even noticed them leave. With a pang, I realized it was becoming easier and easier to forget that the rest of the world existed when I was around him. The thought frightened me, and I paused before we reached the motorcycle.

  “Thank you … for lunch. It was really good,” I said quietly.

  “I told you that I wouldn’t allow you to starve.”

  The gleam had returned to his eyes, and I felt a rush of relief when he smiled a brief, crooked smile. A second later, he was on the bike, extending a gloved hand toward me. I reached out hesitantly, and Will swung me behind him. It took all my willpower not to touch his arm to determine the source of his ability to lift me like I weighed nothing. I exhaled shakily as the bike shot forward into traffic. I had no more answers than before. Only more questions.

  When we got back to campus, I was relieved to find the parking lot still half empty. Given Will’s affinity for speeding, we had managed to return to school grounds before most of the other seniors who had left for lunch. Will parked at the far end of the lot and held out his hand for me to climb down. Handing the spare helmet back to him, I thought about my dad and his reaction if he were to find out that I had been on the back of a motorcycle, not once, but twice. I decided it was better not to dwell on it. A car drove by us, and I watched uncomfortably as one of the girls in the backseat stared, open-mouthed, and pointed in our direction.

  “This is so not good,” I muttered.

  “What is so not good?” Will asked, smiling.

  I looked at him bleakly.

  “People are going to think …”

  I shook my head. No, actually people wouldn’t think we were hooking up. Despite what the movies portrayed, the quiet girl who got nauseous at the prospect of being around a lot of people never ended up with the hot stranger who showed up on a motorcycle. Just didn’t happen. Not in reality, at least.

  “What are people going to think?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.”

  I felt insanely stupid, but it still took me by surprise when I felt the sharp sting of tears. I blinked and wiped furiously at my eyes before turning away, horrified by how ridiculous I was acting. I jumped when Will took hold of my shoulders and turned me to face him. I tried to wave him off, but I couldn’t move my arms as he held my shoulders immobile.

  “I’m fine. Really. I do this all the time—break down in parking lots and cry over nothing,” I muttered.

  Get a grip, Aven! I commanded myself. I was smarter than this. I knew that my life wasn’t going to suddenly morph into a quirky teenage movie, complete with indie soundtrack and happy ending with the really hot guy. At best, Will thought of me as a potential friend; at worst, he thought I was the slightly psycho chick in his AP U.S. History class.

  Will stared down at me for an endless moment, and I stopped crying. Then my eyes widened and I stared up at him as he leaned down very slowly until his forehead was within millimeters of mine.

  “Aven,” he breathed. “I am trying very hard to be good, as good as I know how, but you are making it exceptionally difficult.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment.

  “H-how am I making it difficult?” I whispered shakily, truly confused by the conversation’s turn.

  Again, I felt a spike of fear, like I had to get away from him now. What was it about him that pulled me in at the same time that something deep inside me told me to run? I tried to step back before I did or said something crazy. But I was paralyzed. His gloved hands had rooted me into place. I tried twisting away from his
iron grip and panicked when I couldn’t.

  Suddenly Will released me, only to have to steady me just before I fell backwards into the bushes lining the parking lot. He let go of my arm again when he seemed sure I wasn’t going to trip over my own feet or pass out. The first bell rang in the distance.

  “Go to class,” he said quietly.

  I nodded and turned, still dazed, and began making my way toward school. My head was still spinning when I reached the edge of the first building, so I stopped and leaned against the cold brick face. I was sure Will had disappeared by then, but I didn’t look to make sure. I stayed where I was for several minutes, trying to catch my breath and think about something other than Will Kincaid. When the second bell rang, I hurried toward study hall, smiling weakly at the possibility that maybe Lizzie and Sean would hit it off. I hoped so, anyway. I needed a happy ending, even if it was someone else’s. When I reached class, Lizzie waved from her seat.

  “Hey!” she called.

  “So, you feel like going off campus tomorrow for lunch? I asked Sean, and he’s in,” I said as I sat down next to her.

  Lizzie’s eyes brightened, and she squeaked in excitement. When Ms. Fielding looked up from her desk, we turned forward in our seats. Pulling out my math homework, I began to review the problems. After a minute, I shifted in my seat and leaned toward Lizzie.

  “You want to meet at Sean’s locker tomorrow?” I asked quietly.

  She nodded eagerly, and for the rest of the period, I forced myself to concentrate on math, pushing away any thoughts of Will. When the bell rang, I told Lizzie where Sean’s locker was, even though I suspected she already knew.

  In Journalism, I found Sean sitting at a desk in the corner. Unlike most of my other teachers, Mr. Blake had the desks pushed together in a makeshift newsroom style, and he didn’t bother to keep track of where people sat. I took the chair next to Sean and playfully put my head on his shoulder.

  “Are you mad?”

  Sean smirked at me.

  “No, but I am starting to wonder if you’ve lost it.”

  I winced. Sean wasn’t that far from the truth.

  “So?” Sean prodded. “What’s with you and the new guy?”

  “I wish I knew,” I exhaled.

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

  The problem was that I was still trying to convince myself of that, because I knew better than to hope for things that were outside the realm of reality.

  “Are you guys hooking up or something?” Sean asked incredulously.

  He laughed at my stunned expression.

  “Far from it. We’re friends, I guess.”

  “You and me, we’re friends,” Sean said. “You and that guy? No.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  “Where were you at lunch today? I looked for you at the stairs.”

  I shrugged and tried to look casual. It didn’t work.

  “Will took me to a sandwich place in Old Town.”

  Sean stared.

  “What?” I cried. “I go to lunch with you all the time.”

  “Yeah, ’cause we’re friends. Friends,” he said, drawing the word out like I was stupid.

  “Shut up, Sean!”

  “Hey, I’ve got no problem if you’ve got a thing for him. Just be careful. I’ll have to beat him up if he hurts you.”

  Sean flexed his biceps, but the idea of him beating up anyone—especially Will—was hilarious.

  “Thanks, I think. But I can take care of myself.”

  Then an image of Scott Adams and his wrecked face flashed in my head, and I flinched.

  “What are you guys doing your paper on?” Sean asked before turning back to a cartoon he was working on for the op-ed page.

  We spent the rest of class talking about our papers and the story I was working on for Mr. Blake. At the end of class, I begged for a ride home, and I could just tell Sean was about to make another crack about Will. Something in my expression must have told him it wasn’t a good idea, because he stopped short and nodded.

  On the way to his car, Sean quizzed me about Lizzie, and I took his curiosity as a good sign. The drive to my house seemed to take forever, which I realized was a sure sign I was getting used to Will’s disregard for speed limits. Snorting as he pulled up in front of my house, Sean pointed meaningfully at my house. Wondering what was so funny, I turned, waiting for the punch line. My stomach pitched. Will was sitting on my front steps, watching us.

  “This isn’t funny, Sean,” I said, glowering at him.

  “Aven’s got a boyfriend,” Sean said in singsong.

  I turned toward the house, aghast, even though the windows were rolled up. It didn’t help my paranoia that Will was smiling like he had heard Sean.

  “More like a stalker,” I muttered under my breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the ride. You know I’ll owe you a million when I get my license—and maybe a car to go with it.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll believe it when I see it. Now get out of my car and go see what your boyfriend wants,” Sean said, gesturing dramatically.

  I growled at him before extricating myself from the passenger seat. When I looked back at him, Sean smiled a goofy smile. I was grateful when he pulled away from the curb. Walking toward where Will was sitting, I felt my eyes stinging and my cheeks burning. The last thing I needed was to make a fool of myself. Again. I concentrated on maintaining some kind of composure, as impossible as that seemed around him.

  “What do you want?” I asked, trying to maintain an indifferent tone.

  Suddenly, standing in front of him, I knew with absolute clarity that it was safer if I stayed away from Will Kincaid. I also knew that I couldn’t accomplish this simple task if I so much as looked at him. Because every time I looked into his eyes it felt like I was falling.

  As I looked at him, the answer became clear. Tomorrow I would to go to Mr. Anderson before school to ask that I be allowed to write the term paper on my own. That, and I would ask for a seat change. I couldn’t trust myself around Will for a second longer. He was the only person I had ever met who made me feel completely out of control. I didn’t know what it was about him, but it was dangerous. I looked down as I passed him wordlessly, knowing I would lose my resolve if he looked at me. I rummaged in my bag for house keys, not caring if I seemed like a bitch.

  “Can we talk?” he asked quietly from behind me.

  “No.”

  I scowled when my voice shook.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m afraid of you,” I blurted, turning to face him.

  I sucked in a breath, shocked by what had just come out of my mouth. More accurately, I was afraid of myself when I was around him. Looking up, I saw that Will was standing closer than I expected, and I was surprised to see a pained look flash in his eyes.

  “I would never intentionally hurt you.”

  I flinched at the word intentionally. Our conversation had taken a strange turn—and it only confirmed that my first instinct was the right one. I knew now that I should be afraid of Will Kincaid, even if I didn’t know why. That still didn’t explain, though, why he had helped me.

  “Why did you save me the night of the party?” I asked, not meeting his gaze.

  The how part of him saving me, I realized, was something I might never understand. Will remained silent for several seconds, seeming to consider very carefully before answering.

  “Because it was the right thing to do.”

  I nodded, unnerved by the fact that I was disappointed in his answer. What had I expected? A confession of his nefarious plan—to what? Here I was treating him like some kind of criminal, and all this guy had done is help me. I was being crazy, and that was what had me worried. It was like he overwhelmed my emotions, and I didn’t like that.

  “I have to go walk Darcy.”

  As though he had heard his name, Darcy yipped from inside the house. I started walking toward the front door.

  “What would you say
if I told you that I have been following you?” Will asked.

  The question was so unexpected that I stopped and turned around. His face betrayed a flicker of vulnerability, and suddenly I was so curious that I forgot to be afraid.

  “Why?” I gasped.

  “There are some things you should know. I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind.”

  I nodded before opening the door and walking into the house. As I put my bag on the couch, Darcy raced past me to greet Will.

  “Traitor,” I sniffed as I followed him.

  Joining Will at the steps, I hooked Darcy’s leash on his collar, and we walked in the direction of the park. The air was damp and cool, but it was only misting. Will still hadn’t spoken, so I just waited quietly for whatever he was going to say. Finally he took in a deep breath and then began to speak.

  “I never thought I would come back here, but it appears my past has come back to haunt me—and I had no choice but to return.”

  My brow furrowed.

  “Then you did live here before?”

  Will nodded carefully.

  “And what do you mean you had no choice?” I asked, feeling a chill.

  “There’s someone looking for me.”

  “Someone?” I echoed.

  “A very dangerous individual.”

  I looked at Will to see if this was some kind of joke, but his features remained perfectly serious.

  “Are you in witness protection or something?” I swallowed.

  Is that the explanation for Will’s strange behavior? I wondered.

  “Not quite.”

  We had reached the park, and I walked to the bench, setting down my jacket to keep my jeans dry. Will sat next to me with a discreet distance separating us. He glanced in my direction.