Olivia Twisted (Entangled Teen) (13 page)

Chapter Fourteen

“The dew seemed to sparkle more brightly on the green leaves; the air to rustle among them with a sweeter music; and the sky itself to look more blue and bright. Such is the influence which the condition of our own thoughts, exercise, even over the appearance of external objects.”

—Charles Dickens,
Oliver Twist

Liv

“Olivia, you don’t know boys.”

I grind my teeth. It’s the third time Derrick has said this, and I can’t take any more of this stupid lecture about how boys only want one thing, and do I know what that is, etcetera, etcetera.

“Do you have birth control?” he asks suddenly.

I almost fall out of my seat. I couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”

“Birth control,” he says in a tired voice. “To prevent pregnancy. You do know about condoms and stuff, right?”

My chin drops and I stare at him, heat rising in my face. This is definitely a first—I’ve never had a foster mother, let alone a foster father, try to explain sex to me, much less ask me if I use birth control.

“Um, Derrick, I really don’t need that—”

“If you’re going to act like a grown-up, you need to take certain precautions to make sure you don’t end up pregnant. You do know about
that
, right?”

“I… Yes, of course, but I don’t do that… I don’t…you know…” I can’t believe I’m actually sitting here having a sex talk with my foster father. Totally. Ick.

“So you’re still a virgin?” he asks skeptically.

“Look, can we please be done with this conversation?” I can feel my face burning. Can’t he see how uncomfortable I am? Doesn’t he have a clue?

“All right, then. I won’t say anything about this to Denise. She won’t be as understanding as I am.”

I practically fly to my room. Understanding? The last half hour ranks in the top ten worst moments of my life, and believe me, there have been a lot. I shut my door and fall face-first into my pillow, screaming into the foam as hard as I can.

But was it worth the kiss with Z to have to endure the painful lecture? Hell, yeah.

My body tingles when I think of his hands around my waist, his lips against mine. There are still warnings in my mind that remind me something is off about him, but it’s easier to shove them to the back of my mind. I know how he feels about me, and I simply don’t care about the other things.

The weekend drags by with nothing going on. Mr. Bronson only scheduled me for a few hours on Saturday, so I’m bummed that I can’t even work more. It’s not that great of a job, but it’s a lot better than helping Denise weed the small flower bed in the front yard and studying for tests. I manage to sneak in a few hours on my laptop, mostly listening to iTunes and scanning the Internet to find information about Z and Monroe Street. There’s nothing except the address.

True to his word, Derrick doesn’t say anything to his wife, but he also doesn’t let me go anywhere except work, even when Sam calls to invite me to a movie. He won’t let me use the phone and hovers over me like a hawk. He does ask me to watch television with him. Joyous. I might actually go crazy if I have to suffer another weekend like this.

On Monday, I get on the bus eagerly, counting the minutes until I see Z. Tyson doesn’t bother me at all anymore, just looks away when I glance at him. I’m pretty convinced the only thing he did wrong that night was to take a drink from a total stranger and deliver it to me, which wasn’t a good choice but didn’t deserve the beating he got from Z. That being said, I’m not at all disappointed at the lack of attention from him.

I hurry from the bus to my locker, then wait outside the Computer Science room for Z, feeling a little too much like a kid looking for the ice cream truck. Z soon appears, and I notice he’s wearing dark jeans and his hair isn’t plastered back. He’s wearing his black-rimmed glasses, though. He grins and walks straight over to me, getting as close as he can, eyes teasing mine.

“I like this look,” I whisper. It’s all I can do not to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him.

“You don’t want me to pretend anymore,” he says, running a finger down my arm to my trembling hand and bringing it to his lips. “So I won’t.”

He pulls me into the classroom, never letting go of my hand until we sit down.

A quick glance around the room reveals several surprised looks, including Tyson, whose mouth is hanging open at us, and Sam, whose eyebrow is raised. I take my notebook out of my backpack as Ms. Walsh starts the class. Z, of course, looks attentive as usual, answering Ms. Walsh’s questions without effort while snaking his foot around mine under the table.

Our desks in English Lit are individual and farther apart, so there’s little opportunity for covert affection. At lunch, though, he pulls me to his lap, his hands curving around my hips. I press my hands against his cheeks, loving how he closes his eyes at my touch.

“Oh, give me a break. Get a room already.” Sam’s voice cuts in, startling us.

I pull away from Z and sit back in my own chair. “Sorry, Sam,” I say sheepishly. She sinks into her chair and stares at Z.

“What?” he asks testily, even as he drapes his arm around me.

Her frown deepens. “Seriously?” she asks him. She looks pointedly at me. “So you two are a thing now?”

I can feel the blush creeping up my cheeks. I don’t answer, but Z does. “Shut up, Sam.”

“Bill called,” she says, her fingers playing with a straw on the table. Z’s arm stiffens around my shoulders. “He talked to Nancy this morning. Wants to know how we’re coming along on our project.”

“I said, shut up.”

“I told Nancy it looks like it’s going to end the same as your other projects.” She flips the straw across the table and smiles at me. “How are you doing today, Liv?”

“I’m…” Confused? Yeah, definitely that.

Z’s arm disappears from my shoulder as he leans closer to her. “We’ll talk later,” he says, his voice quiet but strained.

“No worries.” She smiles brightly at him even as she stands to leave. “I just wanted to check in with you.”

She winks at me before walking away, leaving us alone in awkward silence. Z sits back and takes a long drag from his soda, not looking at me.

I don’t know where to begin. Actually, I do. “What project are you guys working on together?”

He smiles, and it shocks me that he looks so calm after the way he responded to Sam. “Just a project for the house. It’s top secret, though.”

“Does it have to do with me?”

He laughs, but it seems too casual of a laugh for him. Forced. He takes my hand. “What makes you think that?”

He says it like the answer is no, but I don’t believe that for a second. I jerk my hand away and stare him down. “I’m not an idiot, you know.”

The laugh lines in his face smooth as he grows serious. “I know. I’m sorry. There’re some things going on right now at the house that I can’t talk about. Can you just trust me?”

It’s not like me to put trust in something I know nothing about. It’s not in him, either, so I doubt he expects it. “Why’s it such a big deal that Bill called Nancy?” I ask instead of answering his question.

He shrugs. “Bill gets a little intense about things, that’s all. None of us likes to be on his bad side, but he’s a pretty decent guy. He pulled us all out of bad situations—almost everyone in that house was either on the streets or close to heading that way when he intervened.”

I stare at my hands. I wish my mother had found someone who could’ve intervened for her. My life might’ve been so different.

“What are you thinking?”

“Just wondering when you’re going to tell me your real name, because I know it’s not Z.”

He takes my hand, kissing my fingers again. “Someday.”

“Today?”

“Someday,” he says more firmly, chuckling. “You want to go for a ride after school?”

“I’m supposed to head straight home. Derrick will be there waiting on me, I know it.”

His thumb traces a path around my palm, eyes holding mine. As usual, I melt into jelly.

“Okay,” I say simply. His mouth curves into a devilish grin. “You knew I would, anyway.”

He laughs again and kisses me lightly before standing. “I’ll see you after.”

I watch him walk away, almost glad I have the afternoon classes without him. He distracted every single one of my senses during the morning classes so I have no idea what I was supposed to learn. I don’t exactly want to fail.

After school, on my way to the footbridge, I spot him and Sam arguing heatedly but am too far away to catch what they’re saying. Sam’s gesturing wildly and yelling, but Z is standing with his arms crossed, shaking his head. Every once in a while it looks like he’s trying to say something but she cuts him off. When I get closer, Sam’s eyes slide past Z to me.

“Hey, Liv! Come join us.”

Z turns around, scowling as I walk to them, but Sam is smiling widely. The contrast in their expressions makes a pit form in my stomach.
What the hell?
Z turns back to her, saying something I can’t hear.

“Yes, it is,” Sam says to him. She turns to me. “So the company I told you about is ready to offer you a job.”

That’s the last thing I expected to hear. “Really? That’s awesome, because I really could use…” I stop as I take in Z’s stance. His hands are clenched and he’s shaking his head at Sam, who’s ignoring him. “What’s going on, guys?”

Sam raises an eyebrow, turning her attention to Z. “Well? Tell her about the job.”

He looks at me, the muscles in his face relaxing slightly as he takes my hand. “Let’s go,” he says.

“Wait a second, what job? You said you didn’t work with Sam.”

“Really?” Sam drawls. “Interesting.”

Z’s glare is murderous as he pushes past her, pulling me with him. “Come on.”

“What was that about?” I ask when we get to the parking lot. I stop and yank my hand from his. “What the hell is going on?”

He removes his glasses to rub at his eyes. “I’ll tell you. Just not here.”

I stare at him. I worry that if I give him time to think, he’ll come up with something that skirts the truth.

“Please,” he says. “I promise I’ll tell you.”

“Fine. Where?”

“The waterfall?”

The memory of kissing him at the waterfall surfaces in a way that makes my body ache, but I try to ignore it. I’d get completely distracted there, which is maybe what he’s hoping for. “No, that would make me at least an hour late, and that’s pushing it with Derrick. I think he’s probably capable of sending the cops after us if I stay out too long.”

“Gotcha. We’ll go somewhere closer.” We walk to his bike. “Liv, I promise, it’s not that big of a deal. Trust me.”
Trust
him? He tries to wrap his arms around my waist, but I grab my helmet and hold it between us.

“Do you work with Sam? Hacking? Just tell me.”

“Yes, but it’s not that simple. That’s why we need to talk.” He climbs onto the bike, looking at me expectantly.

I jam the helmet on my head and slide behind him, my heart heavy. Whenever someone says, “We need to talk,” it’s never a good thing. Never.

Z takes us out of the suburbs into another countryside, this one filled with pasture after pasture of cows, horses, and barns. He speeds up so fast that my adrenaline kicks in full-throttle as the fences and trees fly by in a blur. Slowly, I let the bundle of nerves from the conversation earlier be whipped away as the wind slashes at my skin. I close my eyes and lose myself in the sensation of flying, until a loud whirring sound breaks rudely through the rumble of the bike.

In my peripheral vision I can see a police car pulling off the road onto the highway after us. Z must hear it, but he speeds up. As the car closes in on us, I try yelling at Z to pull over, but my words get lost in the helmet and roar of the motorcycle. The police sirens scream behind us, not far back now, and I grip Z’s waist as he pushes the speedometer harder. He hasn’t gone this fast with me before. I’m not the praying sort, but I’m praying now as I hold on for dear life. What is he thinking? We’re definitely going to jail—if we don’t die first.

The car is right behind us now. As we approach a bridge, he careens off the road and down a grass ramp, completely freaking me out, then angles a sharp left under the bridge before speeding up again. The police sirens grow dim, then fade away completely. I try to catch my breath, both relieved and angry. Stronger than those emotions, however, is a strange sense of excitement, of danger and escape. An absurd feeling of exhilaration that reminds me of the way I felt after I’d been drugged in the club. I want to hit Z or kiss him—neither an option at the moment as he zips down the winding dirt road.

Z finally pulls into a weed-choked drive. The dilapidated house at the end looks deserted. He cuts the engine and removes his helmet.

I slide down from the bike and yank my helmet off to hit him. He ducks away, laughing.

“What the hell was that? You could’ve gotten us arrested. Or killed.”

“Relax, I knew we were almost outside the county. Those guys don’t try to follow when you pass over the county line.”

“Still…” I have nothing else to say. Especially because I’m mad at myself for being so excited by the whole thing.

He shifts slightly and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me to him. He pats the console of the bike and I slide to face him, lifting my legs over his. A fluttering of nerves tickles within me as his fingers run a trail up the length of one of my blue-jeaned legs to my thigh, and then the fluttering of nerves turns into an all-out war in my body.

I grab his hand, holding it firmly. Derailing me would be oh so easy to do right now, but I need answers. “What are you and Sam pulling? Obviously it involves me, and it has to do with this company that she—well, that you both work for, apparently.”

He sighs. “Sam and I work together, yeah. In a way. We’re hackers, but probably not quite what you’re thinking.”

“Okay, so what does that mean? You don’t hack security systems?”

He smiles a little. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

I remember back to when I first rode in Sam’s Camaro, when I briefly wondered whether she stole money to pay for it. I had been embarrassed of the thought at the time. I grow cold inside as the truth dawns on me. “So you’re hacking for your own profit?”