Destiny Binds (6 page)

“You are. Why would you want to play with that little kid for anyway? You should stay here and hang out with us.”

Angel looked up at me, eyes huge. The only time she ever got to hang out with the big kids was when Talley was in a particularly generous mood. I had never seen her look so hopeful.

“Yeah, we could really use your help,” I said, wiping the last remnants of tears from her face. “Do you think you could hold the tape recorder while Alex and I argue?” Angel eagerly nodded her head in agreement before casting a glance in Alexʼs direction.

“You should know that Scout is a really good arguer. She always wins against me and Jase.”

“Is there anything your sister isnʼt really good at?” I was surprised that Angel had to actually think about it. “She sounds like a dying cat when she sings,” she finally concluded. “And she always sets off the smoke alarm when she tries to cook.”

Alex tried to look serious, but his dimples got in the way. “Well, Iʼll have to remember not to ever let her sing lead on Rock Band or make me dinner.” By the time we left, Alex had managed to wrap my little sister around his finger. She was defenseless against his charm and infectious laughter. I was horrified to realize that I wasnʼt as immune as I had hoped.

“I have a new friend,” Angel announced at dinner that night. I was carefully trying to extract all the bell peppers from my spaghetti sauce, and therefore not paying much attention to the conversation. “Heʼs really nice and funny and cute.”

Dad reached over to peel a noodle from the side of Angelʼs face. “Is he in your class?”

“Nope. Heʼs Scoutʼs friend. He let me help him and Scout work on their homework because I am so manure.”

“I think you mean
mature
, Sweetie,” Mom corrected.

Crap. I hadnʼt had a chance to tell Jase about the newspaper assignment yet. And by
hadnʼt had a chance to tell him yet I meant hoped that he would never find out.
I had to distract the Munchkin before she said anything else. “Hey, Angel, could you hand me the cheese?” Of course, like any good little sister, she never did what I wanted her to do. “Is Alex going to be at the library again tomorrow?”

There was a loud clanking noise as Jase dropped his fork onto his plate. “You were at the library with Alex Cole?”

“It was no big deal...”

“Donʼt tell me it was no big deal! I told you to stay the hell away from him.”

“Jase Stewart Donovan,” Dad said in a voice that can only be achieved by someone that has been both a father and a teacher. Normally hearing any of our full names spoken in that tone would have all three of us cowering under the nearest piece of furniture. Jase was unmoved.

“I asked you to do one thing.
One thing
, Scout. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Sweetheart --” Mom began, but Dad cut her off. “Do not yell at your sister.” Jaseʼs volume dropped a few decibels, but the emotion of the yell was still there. “Heʼs not what you think he is.”

“It was a school assignment,” I said, emphasizing every word so they would sink into his hard skull.

“Sure it was.”

I was gripping my fork so tightly the edges were biting into my skin. “Just because Liam is a

—”

“Liam!?!?” Jase was turning an impressive shade of reddish purple. “Youʼre on a first name basis with that one now, too?”

Dad slammed his hand down on the table, causing water to fly out of my glass. “That is enough. I want to know what is going on right now
.”

“Itʼs none of your business,” Jase snapped.

Everyone at the table completely froze. Iʼm not sure I was even breathing.

“What did you just say?”

Jase didnʼt reply. He just sat there trying to make my head explode with the power of his stare.

It may have been working.

“I think maybe you need to go to your room and cool off, son.” Jase stood up and thrust his chair back under the table. “Iʼll go,” he said as he walked out of the dining room, “but Iʼm not your son.”

My mouth literally hung open in shock. Jase and Dad had their fair share of disagreements over the years, but he had never said anything that cruel before. No, my dad wasnʼt Jaseʼs biological father, but since Jason Hagan died in a hunting accident before his son was born, Dad was the only father Jase ever knew.

“Iʼm sorry. I didnʼt mean to do anything bad. ” Angelʼs voice was small and timid. I found my heartstrings being tugged by her sad little face for a second time that day.

“You didnʼt do anything wrong.”

“Did you?”

Had I? I knew Liam was dangerous, and I fully intended on keeping my distance from him, but why should that automatically extend to Alex?

“Nobody did anything wrong.”

“Then why is Jase so mad?”

Three pairs of eyes were focused on me, eager for the answer. “Jase doesnʼt like Alex. He doesnʼt trust him or something.”

“Is Alex a bad person?”

Why was she asking me all of these impossibly hard questions? Had I not been the ideal big sister all day?

“Honestly, Angel, I donʼt know what kind of person he is.”

“That doesnʼt sound like Jase,” Mom said. “He wouldnʼt just dislike someone without having a good reason.”

I seriously considered telling them everything - about our creeptastic encounter with Liam, about Jaseʼs odd reaction, about my suspicions.

“Maybe he does have a good reason, but heʼs not sharing it with me.”

“This Alex kid, he hasnʼt been inappropriate towards you, has he?” Good grief. “No, Dad. I barely know the guy.”

“You know, honey, if you are feeling threatened physically, emotionally, or
sexually
...” Oh dear God. “You know what, I think I should go talk to Jase now,” I said, getting up from the table and away from the horribly awkward place this conversation was heading.

“Scout, if you find out whatʼs really bothering him, you will tell us, right?” Mom asked.

I leaned over to kiss the top of her head as I walked by. She looked so worried that I had to try and make her feel better. “Sure. Donʼt worry, Mom. Itʼs probably just some weird boy thing.” Of course, I didnʼt stop at Jaseʼs room. I knew better than to try to deal with him when he was upset. Instead, I slinked off to my room to distract myself with homework. I was in the middle of trying to figure out exactly what an antiderivative was when my phone rang. My heart leapt when I read the caller ID.

“Chuck! How goes the college life?” True to my prediction, communications from Charlie had been growing more and more infrequent as the semester progressed.

“This school stuff is hard work. You would love it - tons of books to read, long papers to write, impossibly hard tests to pass. I wish you were here.” And I desperately wished I was wherever he was. “Sounds like heaven.”

“How are things back home? Writing anything good for the paper?” Leave it to Charlie to be subtle. Jase must have called him to tattle.

“Not really.” I hoped he could hear the flatness in my voice through the phone.

“Funny, your brother said that you were working on an article with Alex Cole.”

“I am, but itʼs on socialized medicine. That is pretty much the opposite of interesting.” The rush of air from Charlieʼs sigh sounded like static on the phone. “Scout, I thought we talked about this. I thought you understood.”

“I never understood. I agreed to not be friends with him, which Iʼm not, but you never explained why.” I was starting to get annoyed again.

“I told you, itʼs complicated.”

“And I told you that I am smart enough to keep up.”

There was a long pause. “I canʼt tell you. Iʼm sorry, I just canʼt.” His voice got quieter, and I knew that I was not imaging the added emotion there. “I couldnʼt stand it if you got hurt. You know that, right?”

“I know.” I also knew that my insides felt like Jell-O. “Itʼs just an assignment. Iʼll keep it purely professional.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

It turns out that some promises cannot be kept, no matter how hard you try. I had every intention of keeping Alex at a distance because Charlie, who couldnʼt bear to see me hurt, asked me to. Really, I did.

What I had not considered when making that promise was Alex himself. Mrs. Sole loved the article so much she decided to make it a weekly feature. That meant Alex and I were spending more and more time together. At first, it was just the after school library sessions to work on the articles, but it didnʼt take long for the gulf that existed between us at school to close up. Soon, Alex was chatting with me before Calc and sitting with Talley and me in Shakespeare. Some days we would even find him milling around the library at lunch.

It was a rainy November afternoon when were at the library working on our homework for Mr. Beckʼs class. The topic of that weekʼs article had been changing the legal drinking age to eighteen. Just for fun, I took pro and Alex argued the con. We had enough material on tape in five minutes.

“So, I have a Calculus related question,” Alex announced.

I stopped beating my forehead with the eraser of my pencil and looked at him to indicate that he should proceed.

“Have you ever noticed that John Davis smells funny?” Well, I supposed that since he sat between us in that class it was somewhat Calculus related. “The aroma du Play-Doh that he emits is overwhelming. You would have to be missing a nose not to notice.”

“Play-Doh!” It was as if a cartoon light bulb went off over his head. “I knew that it was a familiar smell, but I just couldnʼt place it.” Alex stared off into space and started clicking his pen. “But why does he smell like Play-Doh?”

“I donʼt know,” I said, leaning towards him as though we were discussing something horribly important, like global warming or brown sugar cinnamon Pop-Tarts superiority over the iced strawberry variety. “I have sat behind him for thirteen years and he has always smelled like Play-Doh. Do you think he rubs it behind his ears like cologne?”

“Maybe he eats it,” Alex speculated. “There was this kid I went to Kindergarten with that was always eating random things -- crayons, glue, pocket lint.”

“That is so gross.”

“Hey, I was five. I didnʼt know any better.”

“I thought we were talking about some kid you went to Kindergarten with.” Alex shifted awkwardly in his seat and ran his fingers through his hair. I was momentarily distracted by the sight of his tongue on his lips. “I meant to say that
he
was only five and that
he
didnʼt know any better. Not me.
I
wasnʼt some crazy lint eater.”

“So, what does pocket lint taste like?”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Scout, Iʼve got lots of homework to get done. I wish you would quit distracting me.”

I made a big display of zipping my lips and punching some numbers into my calculator. He did the same, but our quiet time didnʼt last long. I found that studying with Alex was almost impossible since the more I talked to him, the more I wanted to talk to him. Mrs. Sole was right, we played really well off of one another. It was as if the cadences of our personalities were as similar as our writing styles. I lied to myself, saying that I was just enjoying his friendship, until one day in Shakespeare I had to admit how bad my little crush had become.

We were prepping for a run through of
The Taming of the Shrew.
I had been assigned the role of Katherina and Alex was playing Petruchio. I was channelling my inner Julia Stiles when Ashley slid up between Alex and me.

“Hey, Alex,” she said with her pink, glossy bottom lip gutting out like a pouting child. “You havenʼt called me lately. Where have you been?”

Alex smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Iʼve been really busy with work and school and stuff.” I felt as though something rather large and misshapen, like a professional wrestler, had taken up residence in my stomach. A quick fantasy flashed through my mind of delivering a right hook to Ashleyʼs stupid, goat-like face.

“Well, if you get a free night sometime soon, we should make plans.” She leaned her whole body against him to whisper in his ear. Judging by the blush that crept up his neck and onto his face, it had something to do with exactly what those plans would entail.

Alex coughed nervously. “O-o-okay. So, Iʼll...ummm...talk to you later.”

“I look forward to it,” she cooed. She was practically caressing him with her breasts. I couldnʼt decide if I would rather puke or beat her to death with my shoe.

Alex stepped back and almost tripped over a wooden sword. “Yeah. Okay...so, yeah. Later.”

“Well, Iʼll let you guys get back to practicing then.” She turned her attention to me, her expression condescending. “Scout as the Shrew. I guess Ms. Ryder is a big fan of typecasting.”

I was glad I was wearing a pair of tennis shoes. She would die much too quickly and not suffer nearly enough if I were to beat her with my boots.

“Her boobs are fake, you know,” I said after she was gone. “She also wet the bed until the seventh grade and wore a robe to school every day for three weeks when we were ten because she thought middle school would be just like Hogwarts.” Alex just stood there and stared at me as if I had grown a second head.

“Sorry,” I said. “I know you guys are dating or whatever. I was being rude.” For some reason, Alex was smiling. He was probably laughing at my idiotic behavior. I would be if I were him.

“Iʼm not dating Ashley Johnson.”

“Youʼre not?” What was he talking about? Of course he was dating Ashley. Or maybe they didnʼt do “dating” in Montana.

“Nope. Sheʼs not my type.” He was in full-on dimple mode. His eyes were even doing that sparkly dancing thing.

“But you took her to Homecoming.”

“I just did that to try and make someone else jealous.” He liked someone else. Great. My mind started going through the possibilities. Molly Eastwick is pretty, and I had seen Alex talking to her a couple of times in the hallway. Jase recently broke up with Nikki Anderson, who looks like an MTV backup dancer. Every male in a five county radius was trying to be the rebound guy. I shuddered at the thought of how Alex dating Jaseʼs ex would play out.

“Did it work?” What I was really asking was if he was dating someone else already, because nothing feels quite so good as pouring salt in an open wound.