Brightest Kind of Darkness (9 page)

Chapter Nine

I sat along the edge of the stacked bleachers in the gym, listening to the principal drone on. No amount of perfume or cologne coating the press of people sitting around me could cover the strong wax floor and decades old sweat scents that permeated the room. I didn’t have a clue what Mr. Wallum was talking about. I’d totally zoned out from the boring words. Then again, I’d spent most of the day in a haze.

Many parts of my life—from losing my dreams and Lainey’s friendship, to being attacked in the woods and now my dad texting me—were being tossed and jerked around, just like my dirty clothes in the washer last night. And just like my freshly laundered clothes I’d pulled out of the dryer, I wanted my life to go back to being neat and squeaky clean. Instead, it seemed to be headed in the “wrinkled with set-in stains” direction.

Pretending to be engrossed in the principal’s less-than-fascinating speech was easier than thinking too much about Lainey not speaking to me, Ethan ditching my game, or the reason behind that stupid text message. It’s not like I hadn’t already considered other possibilities for the text I received last night; like maybe it was someone’s idea of a sick joke.

Lainey was the only person who knew my dad left us. Everyone else just assumed my parents were divorced and I never corrected the assumption. But no matter how upset Lainey was with me, I just couldn’t see her doing something so cruel. Sophia or Miranda? Probably. But Lainey would have to have told them the truth about my dad for them to know how much it’d upset me to receive any kind of message from him.

“Bored out of your mind yet?” Ethan said from his standing position next to the bleachers.

I slid over to give him room, and as he vaulted up to settle beside me, I kept my gaze on the podium in the center of the gym. “Actually, it’s pretty interesting.”

“Really? What’s he talking about?”

I glanced his way and stared blankly.

Ethan’s brows shifted downward. “What’s going on? You barely said two words in the hall.”

I picked at the splintering step underneath me. “Nothing. We won last night,” I said with as much pep as a limp noodle.

The crowd suddenly cheered and clapped as the cheerleaders walked out onto the floor. Oh yeah, I remembered now. This was a pep rally for the football game.

“I knew you could do it,” Ethan spoke in my ear over the noise. “Congrats again.”

I glommed onto his comment, sitting straighter. “Again?”

“Yeah.” He nodded to the pocket where I usually kept my cell. “I left you a message last night. You got it, right?”

“Um, no. I didn’t get it.” He must’ve called after I’d turned off my phone. I hadn’t turned it back on yet, because I didn’t want my dad to try to text me again. My face burned as I pulled out my cell.

“You’re just now turning your cell on?” 

“Yeah, it’s a shocker isn’t—” I paused when my dad’s text message from last night popped up. I’d shut off my phone without closing out of the text window.

Ethan didn’t say anything as I continued to stare. Finally, I turned the phone his way so he could read it and spoke in a low voice, “My dad sent this message from the grave last night.”

He scanned it and his brow furrowed in confusion. “If your dad’s dead, how can he send you a text?”

“He’s not dead.” I deleted the message, punching the buttons hard. “But as far as I’m concerned, he is. He walked out on us when I was five. I have no idea if that text message was real or if someone’s screwing with me.”

Propping his forearm across his knees, he eyed me. “Aren’t you curious why he tried to contact you?”

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. Holding up my finger, I clicked the button to listen to Ethan’s voice message and pushed my cell close to drown out the droning microphone in the background. I needed something good to scrub the raging resentment for my father from my brain.

As soon as I closed my phone, Ethan looked apologetic. “I’m sorry I missed your game last night. Something came up or I would’ve been there to see you rule that goal.”

Whenever we talked, he made me feel so good. “Thanks. That means a lot. And now I have your number,” I finished with a small smile.

Ethan’s attention strayed back to my phone. “Why do you think someone would try to screw with you?”

I slid my gaze to Lainey, Miranda and Sophia chatting with a couple of the football players at the top of the bleachers. “I tried to tell Lainey about something I saw between Jared and Sophia in the parking lot yesterday. Now she thinks I only wanted to make her boyfriend look like a jerk so she’d dump him and then I could have him for myself.” I shrugged. “Maybe that text message was some kind of payback.”

Ethan stilled. “Do you? Like him?”

“Of course not!” I said with a “duh” look, even as I thought,
He’s not
you.

He glanced toward the top of the bleachers. “The guy
is
a jerk.”

Nodding, I sighed. “Lainey’s not talking to me. Right now she’s eating up every lie Sophia feeds her. It’s like Sophia’s her own personal ‘happy pill’ dispenser.”

Amusement sparked briefly in his blue eyes, then he nodded toward my phone. “What if the text is real?”

Music started blaring from the speakers and the cheerleaders began to gyrate on the floor.

“Not interested.” I said a little louder over the din. “When my dad left us, it took my mom a long time to snap out of it. I won’t go there again.” I thought about my mom’s reaction in my dream and honestly wondered if she could handle another round of rejection; a reminder he didn’t want us.

The cheerleaders had started to build a pyramid.

I didn’t think that discussing something so difficult for me would provide a rare opportunity with Ethan, but I realized now was the perfect time for me to ask about him. “Why are you living with your brother? Don’t your parents miss you?”

“No. They don’t.”

Ethan stared straight ahead, but his hand clenched into a fist on top of his knee. “Do you miss them?” I asked tentatively.

His eyes flicked to me briefly. “I miss the way they used to be. I hate that they never trusted or believed me…and that they still don’t.”

Anger and resentment radiated from his thinned lips and narrowed gaze. He literally vibrated, holding his body perched on the bleacher’s edge as if he were going to vault off any moment.

I scooted closer until our thighs almost touched. He needed someone who understood. I wanted to touch him, but was afraid he’d pull away. My stomach tensed as I lightly put my hand over his fist. “I’m sorry, Ethan. Parents can be so clueless sometimes.”
Why had my mom never noticed that I just seemed to “know” things? I was different than other kids—too calm, too understanding—yet she’d never said a word.

When Ethan inhaled deeply and his fist tightened under mine, I realized this was the first time I’d reached out to him. Worried I’d crossed some kind of line, I started to lift my hand, but he quickly slipped his fingers between mine, locking our hands together. “Not yet, Nara,” he said in a harsh rasp.

Breathless, I glanced up. The look in his eyes, a mixture of angst, fierce need and hope, made my heart rate surge, battering my chest with hundreds of fist punches. I curled my fingers around his and we sat there in the stinky gym, completely oblivious to all the cheering and hollering around us.

* * *

Coach had cancelled practice, so Ethan walked me to my car after school. We passed by his car on the way and three black birds stared at us from his car’s roof.

“What’s with the black birds? You don’t have a dead body in the trunk, do ya?”
See, Lainey, I came right out and asked!

Ethan snorted. “They’re ravens, a different species, and I have no idea why my car’s their hang out spot.” Reaching into his pocket, he tossed something and a few pieces landed on his roof with light plings.

As the birds quickly gobbled the hard bits up, I raised my eyebrows. “You’re feeding them? No wonder they’re multiplying.”

“It’s just kibble.” He brushed the crumbs off his hand. “They kept pooping on my car when I shooed them away. Now, so long as I feed them, they seem content to poop elsewhere.”

I chuckled. “If you can’t beat ‘em…” We’d just reached my car when my cell phone pinged. My attention automatically strayed to the Caller ID. It was the same as before—a text from an unknown number.

“Is it your dad?” Ethan asked.

Wind blew my hair around my face in a messy mop of blonde strands. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tucked my phone away. “Probably. He hasn’t said jack since he left and now he’s texting me? I have no idea how he got my cell number.”

Ethan released a strand of hair that had snagged in the hinges of my sunglasses, his knuckles brushing my cheek. Sympathy reflected in his eyes. “Maybe you should text him back and tell him not to send you any more messages.”

I blinked hard to suppress the tears of anger and worry over my dad’s second attempt to contact me.
What if he tried to call my mom’s cell? He knows my number. It’s possible he might have hers
. Ethan’s warm fingers palmed the back of my neck and he pulled me close. I dug my fingers into his jean jacket and buried my nose against his shoulder, soaking up his warmth and inhaling his unique smell.

Rubbing his thumb along the curve of my neck, his deep voice vibrated against my temple. “He’s probably not going to stop until you respond.”

Pulling back, I knew he was probably right, but I didn’t want to face it. Not yet. “Want to go get some pizza?”

Ethan gave a wide-mouthed, gorgeous smile, the kind that made my stomach pitch and my legs shake. Taking a step back, I leaned against my car. No one had a clue how good-looking he was, because he’d never smiled like this at school.

“Wow!” I said, yanking off my glasses.

He frowned, glancing down at his jean jacket and then his t-shirt underneath. “What?”

“Um, it’s just...I had no idea you had such an awesome smile.”

Ethan went red and then coughed a couple times before shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. “Er, thanks. No one’s ever said that before.”

His sheepish smile made me snicker. “If you smiled like that more often, you’d have the girls crawling all over you. On second thought, no smiling allowed.”
I sounded jealous…and probably corny, but I didn’t care
.

Stepping close, Ethan grasped a lock of my hair. “You’re the only one who makes me smile like this, Nara.”

My breath snagged. When he leaned closer and his lips almost touched mine, my fingers curled around my shades. I wanted to start our journey. Every nerve inside me was revved to hit the road.

My cell phone began to play
Witchy Woman
by the Eagles.

Pulling back, I slid my glasses on and tried to keep my voice even-keeled as my heart danced a jig in my chest. “My aunt gets worried when I don’t pick up.”
And she now officially has the worst timing ever!

“Hey, Aunt Sage.”

“Hey, sweetie!” She sounded excited. Well, more than usual. “I think I have a solution to your dream problem.”

Glancing surreptitiously at Ethan, I pressed the phone to my ear. “Really? That’s great.”

“Can you come over for dinner tonight and we can talk about it? I’ve already started making chicken Marsala.”

My aunt only made that dish because she knew it was my favorite. Disappointment bloomed in my chest that I’d have to reschedule with Ethan. I’d asked for my aunt’s help and she’d come through. I
had
to go. “Sure. What time should I be there?”

“Why don’t you come on now? You can help me work on a new piece of jewelry before dinner. I’ve already called your mom and cleared it with her.”

“Okay, see you in a few.”

Once I hung up, Ethan asked, “
Witchy Woman
?”

I put my cell away. “The people I talk to the most get their own ring tone.”

“I was referring to the fact you chose a song from the seventies for your ring tone,” he said, looking impressed.

I flashed a cheeky grin. “Yeah, all my ring tones are older songs…well, except Lainey’s. She’d be totally offended if I used an old song.”

“What’s hers?”

“
Death of a Shopaholic
by Psychedelic Rhythm.”

Ethan laughed, then sobered. “I take it pizza’s off.”

“I’m sorry. My aunt’s helping me with…a school project. How about on Saturday?” My mom would understand if we postponed our trip to Farmville to get a new couch. I’d been complaining that our old one needed to be replaced since I was ten. What would one more weekend matter?

“I can’t. My brother’s going out of town on business, so he’s taking me to the football game on Saturday. Sunday and Monday are shot. I’m taking Monday off school, since we’re doing a big roof repair project before he leaves for a week.”

“A week?” I said, eyes wide. “My mom so wouldn’t leave me for a week.” As it was, when my mom went out of town for a couple of days, my aunt would usually call and check on me.

Ethan shrugged. “I’ve been on my own for as long as three weeks before. My brother works for the Military Intelligence Agency and has to travel sometimes.”

“Do your—” I’d started to ask him if his parents knew he’d been left on his own for almost a month, before I remembered his comments in the assembly. “Do you miss Samson when he’s gone?”

“Do you miss your mom?” he countered.

Ethan’s question made my chest ache. I’d been missing my mom since my dad left. The truth bottled up inside, like a shaken soda can, ready to explode. “Mom’s never gone for very long.”

Unaware of my inner turmoil, Ethan pulled my sunglasses off. “You have gorgeous eyes. You shouldn’t hide behind your shades, Nara.”

Blinking at the sudden brightness, I warmed at his compliment. “Thanks,” I said in a small voice. The way he looked at me, like he knew my true thoughts about my mom, made me squirm. Sometimes it felt like he could see right through me. “So,
do
you miss him when he’s gone that long?”

Handing me my glasses, he said, “My brother can be such a pain sometimes—getting all parental and bossy—so I don’t mind him going out of town once in a while. But after about a week though, I get tired of the same meal over and over.”