Running Lean (20 page)

“It’s okay. I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I love you, Stace.”

His fingertips brushed her ribs, probing higher. He gasped the same moment she did.

“No. Calvin—” The icy sensation in her veins reverted to hot, for a different reason. Was he paying any attention to what she said? Had she just become a sexy body for him to do with as he pleased? She pushed harder.

He made a strangled sound and lurched away, slumped behind the steering wheel. Some part of him thumped the driver’s door. He grunted like he’d been punched.

Stacey crab-crawled back to the passenger side. “I’m sorry. You just, kinda, forced yourself on me.”

“Force—No, I didn’t! Ouch.” He massaged his left elbow.

She finger-combed her hair. “I don’t mean forced, exactly. It was too much too fast.”

He breathed out and shifted to a normal position on the seat. “Yeah, my bad. I thought you wanted to park somewhere.”

“To talk. And make out a little. But not to have sex. Calvin, where did that come from? You’ve never been like that before.”

Calvin wrapped his arms over the steering wheel and rested his forehead against them. “I just thought … I don’t know what I was thinking. The way you’re dressed, I got carried away.”

“So it’s my fault?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You were about to.” She flipped her hair away from her face. “What happened to waiting for marriage, huh? One outfit drove all that talk out of your head?”

“Hey!” He jerked upward, shot a look at her that was probably a glare. “I stopped, didn’t I? I didn’t force you to do anything. I’m just trying to show you that, that—never mind. My mistake. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

Stacey tugged her clothes into place and peered at the cotton field. The plants looked like spindly weeds in the dark. Not a field she’d want to walk through if she had to leave the truck.

Calvin cranked the engine and yanked the gearshift lever into drive. The truck lurched forward, and Stacey bounced and fumbled with the seat belt until she got it latched. The headlights illuminated a dusty trail. They flew past trees that seemed to lean and branch out over the path.

“You can slow down, you know.”

“I have to get you home.” His voice was flat.

“So, what, you’re mad at me now?”

“No. Kind of.”

“What did I do?”

“Just … nothing. It’s a lot of stuff.”

“Which is it? A lot of stuff or nothing?”

He made a right turn on the dirt track, the truck skidding.

Stacey planted her hands against the dashboard. “Please slow down.”

“I know where I’m going.”

Sure he did. Because they were in the field his family owned. But did that mean he could get away with driving crazy? A big piece of farm equipment rose up out of the darkness, scaring Stacey. She held her breath as Calvin drove up a rise. At the road the front tires left the ground then slammed back, the shocks creaking and bouncing. Stacey’s hands flew up and her hair whipped around her face. And then the nightmare ride was over. Victory Church Road lay before them, a nice, smooth path.

Stacey pulled a strand of hair out of her mouth. “Calvin, don’t be mad at me.”

He shifted in his seat, pulled his seat belt over his lap. He just now put it on?

“I don’t get it,” he said. “Get what? I wanted to look nice for you.” He looked at her, and the dashboard lights glinted in his eyes. “You always look nice. I tell you all the time. I tell you I love you, but you keep starving yourself. So today I wanted to prove to you that you don’t need to do that. That you’re sexy enough and …”

So now he had all these noble motives for trying to put his hand up her shirt? Yeah, right.

Calvin sighed. “Stacey, I’m not sure I can keep up with you. I’m trying. Really trying. But this anorexia—”

“Calvin Greenlee, I am not anorexic.”

He snorted. Like a laugh. “Okay, look, forget everything that
happened tonight. I got carried away, okay? Blame me if you want. I don’t care. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

With one wrist draped over the steering wheel, his hand clenching then unclenching, Calvin drove past the high school. Stacey focused on the dark landscape sweeping past Calvin’s head. It felt alien somehow. Unwelcoming. Because the guilt that invaded Stacey’s mind made her feel removed, a self-conscious spirit exposed, ashamed of her flesh. Ashamed that she’d let Zoe talk her into wearing this horrible lace top that turned her nice boyfriend into a drooling fool.

“You’re right. I get confused sometimes. Zoe gave me this blouse. I knew I shouldn’t have worn it, I knew it was too skimpy and tight. I just wanted you to think I’m pretty and sexy. That’s all. I didn’t even think about, you know, going beyond kissing.”

His heavy exhale announced his frustration. He made no other answer.

Stacey collapsed in her seat and hugged herself. Tears burned in her eyes and stayed there while he navigated back toward her house. Would the day end in angry silence like this?

For the second time, he turned onto Turner Creek Road.

“I’m confused too, Stace. There’s some stuff we really need to talk about. I’ve been trying to, but it seems we never get a chance.”

Something wedged in her throat, like a giant bug had flown into the pickup and got sucked into her mouth. Or like the scratchy feeling when she rammed her nails down her throat. She knew what “stuff” he wanted to talk about.

“When do you want …?” her voice croaked.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

No. No. She had to put it out of his head tonight. “What if I don’t want to talk about it?”

Had she really said that? A shriek of agony ripped through Stacey’s brain.

The pickup jolted into her driveway so hard that the seat belt probably bruised her hips. Calvin jammed on the brakes. The only sound was the chugging of the truck engine taking a break after the crazy ride. Calvin stared forward. Stacey shivered in her seat.

“I’m just trying to help you.” His voice was a low rumble. “I love you. I want to know that you’ll be okay.”

“I love you too,” she mumbled. “Kiss good night?”

Calvin sighed and rolled toward her. His hand touched her shoulder and his lips pressed against hers for only a second. He pulled away. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She made her hand move to the door handle. Forced her shoulder to push open the creaking door. Put her feet on the hard surface of her driveway. Pushed the truck door shut, tried not to wobble when her legs carried her back a step.

Calvin backed out to the street. The pickup’s transmission groaned and clunked into gear, and she stared as the rattling vehicle moved down the street, turned a corner, and was gone.

The force of will holding Stacey up slowly released her. She sank down in the grass, weak and gasping.

H
e couldn’t sing.

Peyton pushed the open hymnal closer to Calvin, and he felt the scrutiny of her glance. He stared down at the words on the page while voices swelled around him. He opened his mouth, but the words stalled, wouldn’t even form in his brain.

He couldn’t pretend to sing praises to God when his heart felt like a football in his chest. The guilt of that, and of sitting through a sermon he’d already forgotten, added to the weighty shroud he’d worn since last night.

Calvin’s eyes burned from little sleep. He dared not close them for more than the instant it took to blink, because the dark images would return. Stacey’s face, a landscape of shadows and what he thought was desire, against the cracked vinyl upholstery of his father’s pickup truck. If she’d protested, he couldn’t remember. The argument that followed was a blur. Shock had bashed aside all other sensations and emotions and overlaid a nightmare image upon her face.

Bones.

The hymn ended and Calvin closed his mouth.

Girls were supposed to be soft. But his fingers had passed over bones so pronounced he could have counted them by touch.

How could she hide that so well? How long had this been going on and he hadn’t seen it? Her parents—why didn’t they do something about it? Stacey’s mother, constantly wanting to know what, when, and where, had to have noticed. Her father, a cop—wasn’t he trained to look for details? Why was Calvin the first person to figure out what was going on?

Mom touched his sleeve. “Excuse me, hon. I have to fetch the kids.”

Calvin’s gaze snapped to hers. Her tone might not be so sweet if she had any clue what went on in the pickup last night.

No, he couldn’t think about that. He would have stopped before he and Stacey went too far. Maybe. But it didn’t matter. It definitely wouldn’t happen again because … those bones. They just freaked him out.

A wailing built in the back of his mind, like echoes in a canyon.
How did this happen?

“Calvin?” Mom said. “Move, please.”

He found his voice and made his limbs obey. “Yeah. Sorry.”

In the aisle he bumped elbows with other people, made his way out of the sanctuary and into the lobby, and waited there while his parents went to collect his younger siblings.

Peyton stepped around to face him and leaned close. “Are you okay? You look like something’s really bothering you.”

In her pale blue eyes, he saw compassion. She wasn’t trying to get into his business. She cared. Lizzie joined them, forming a tight circle. No sympathy in her expression, though. She wanted to be in the know.

Girls. Either one of them might have something to say that would help him. But neither one was beyond taking his confessions to their parents.

Even Michael would have judged him.
A real man knows how to control his desires and respect a woman
.

Crash and burn.

Calvin tugged his hair. “Just, uh, had a fight with Stacey last night.”

Lizzie looked at the floor, or at her glittery sandals, Calvin wasn’t sure which.

Peyton clasped Calvin’s shoulder. “It’ll be all right. You’ll kiss and make up soon. If ever I saw two people meant for each other, it’s you and Stacey.”

Calvin snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious. What did y’all fight about?”

For one second his brain stalled, sending panic racing down his spine. “Um, like … college, and … stuff.”

Peyton raised one eyebrow. “College? That’s another year away.”

“Yeah, but she wants to go to fashion design school, and I don’t even know what I want to do yet. So, like, that kind of guarantees we’ll break up, doesn’t it?”

“Not necessarily,” Peyton said.

“Maybe,” Lizzie said. “But you’ve still got a year to have fun together.”

His gaze moved from one girl to the other. He couldn’t keep up this conversation, making up concerns as he went along.

Peyton rubbed his arm in a parting gesture, making it easy for him. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”

Mom came out dragging Jacob by the hand and carrying crying Emily on her hip. Dad followed with Zachary, who danced at his side, yammering about something. Lizzie led the way out of the church lobby, bounding down the stairs as if leaving school for the start of summer vacation. Calvin paused at the top step to take Jacob’s hand from his mother, easing her burden.

“I can go by myself,” Jacob protested, pulling away.

Whatever. Calvin dropped to the back of the pack and plodded along the sidewalk to the parking lot. Dad had parked the family
van in the last row, near the neighboring feed store, in almost the last available slot. Calvin shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to think about lunch. An early heat wave radiated off the asphalt and robbed his breath away. How could Stacey possibly have thought it was cold?

“Hi,” a soft voice said.

He stopped. Stacey stood beside the van. She’d pulled her hair back and wore a flowery dress that draped loosely past her knees. Cowgirl boots covered the rest of her legs. All covered up and conservative, with her hands folded in front of her and her chin tilted downward.

Calvin blinked. “Hey.”

That was how she did it! She covered everything up so it was impossible for anyone to see how skinny she was. All the thick sweaters and denim she’d worn all winter … But if she wanted to be thin, why would she hide her success?

He and Stacey stared at each other while his family loaded into the van. She smiled a little, but not enough to hide the apology or embarrassment plastered all over her face and shifting stance. Maybe he looked the same way.

He moved close enough to kiss her, but didn’t. The memories crashed back, and heat rose up the back of his neck.

Stacey sucked her lips in and lowered her head even more. “I was stupid yesterday. I’m really sorry. Forgive me?”

Something trembled in Calvin’s chest. His hand jerked toward hers but he retracted it. Not ready yet. “Yes. I’m sorry too. I acted like a jerk.”

She shook her head and sniffed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just a … slut.”

He sucked air through clenched teeth. Had anyone in his family heard that remark? He glanced past Stacey’s shoulder. Mom backed
away from the middle row of the van, where she’d strapped Emily into her car seat. Dad was already behind the wheel.

Calvin bumped his shoulder against Stacey’s, clasped her elbow, and spoke in a soft growl. “Don’t say that about yourself. Don’t
ever
say that. Is that what your uncle told you?”

Stacey pressed a finger joint to the puffy flesh beneath one of her eyes. “Please, let’s not—I feel horrible. You were so angry when you left last night.”

He sighed. “I wasn’t angry. Just really frustrated.” He glanced at the van again to see how much time he had left. Not much; Lizzie was the last person crawling in through the side door. “Look, I don’t understand everything that’s happening, but we have to find a way to fix this thing. We have to talk and be completely honest with each other.”

She stroked fingertips down his tie. “You look good, all dressed up.”

He fought down the exasperation churning again in his chest.

“Okay. You’re right,” she said. “Things are a little crazy and … maybe I haven’t been eating as much as I should. I want to do better, Calvin. I want to be healthy and—I promise you, I’m okay. I’m stressed out and trying to get over the stuff I didn’t want to tell you about.”

“Yeah, I know all about trying to get over stuff that hurts. But you’re only hurting yourself more by what you’re doing. You’re hurting
us
.”

She tossed her head and looked away. Her hair was held back in a clip, so none of the pink hair showed. Fashion model one day, school librarian the next. Weird.

“It’s not all my fault, Calvin. Please don’t. Don’t … go there.”

Calvin blew out his breath and folded his fingers around hers. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s go somewhere now and talk.”

“Don’t you have to spend the day with your family?”

“Ugh. Okay, wait here just a minute.” Leaving Stacey, he went to the driver’s side of the van and leaned against the window his father had already opened. “Dad, is it okay if Stacey gives me a ride home in a while?” His eyes flicked toward Peyton, who sat crowded between Lizzie and Emily’s car seat in the second row of the nine passenger van.

“We’re meeting Pastor at the Bentley Café today. Stacey can come with us,” Mom said. She turned to shout an order back at the two boys in the rear seat, then flopped back into her seat and exhaled loudly.

“Follow us to the café,” Dad said. “Y’all can talk in her car.”

Stacey wouldn’t go. No way. All that heavy country cooking and a room full of people going up for second and third helpings? Wouldn’t happen.

“Please?”

Peyton leaned forward to stick her head between the two front seats. “They had an argument,” she said softly. “They need some private time. Let him go.”

Thank you, Peyton!

“Mo-om! Zach won’t stop kicking me,” Jacob wailed from the back.

“He’s putting his foot on my side of the seat,” Zachary protested.

Mom groaned. “All right, let Calvin go with Stacey. Just—let’s get these kids some lunch so they’ll settle down.”

“Fine.” Dad pointed a finger at Calvin. “Don’t go in the house with her when no one else is home. Got it, sport?”

“Dad, I know the rules.” Calvin backed away from the van.

His father yanked the gearshift lever into reverse and pulled away. Calvin watched the silver van maneuver through the lot and onto the road. He could feel Stacey’s presence behind him as a
pressure, like waves of heat off the pavement. He suspected his afternoon would’ve been easier if he’d gone with his family.

Calvin pivoted slowly toward Stacey. “So … where do you want to go? I’m hungry.” It just popped out, like what any guy would say to a
normal
girlfriend at the start of a Sunday afternoon together.

Stacey twisted her fingers together in front of her stomach. “I ate be—”

“Before you came. Right. I got it.” He tugged his hair. Messing up already, letting his anger and frustration surface. “Sorry …”

She tilted her head up and blinked in the sunlight. So pale. “I can’t stay out long. I still have some homework to do. Can I just drive you home?”

That would take all of five minutes, including getting into the car and strapping on their seat belts. She was trying to dodge the issue again. Arguing about why she couldn’t give him more time meant they wouldn’t talk about what was really important. Calvin shrugged. “Sure.”

They walked to her Honda without holding hands or speaking. Stacey got in the car first then pushed a button to unlock the passenger door. Calvin plopped into his seat and buckled up.

Country pop blared from Stacey’s CD player, a crooning song with a sad message.

It don’t matter to me what all my friends say.
You’re killing me slowly, but I love you anyway
.

Is that what she’d been listening to on the way to see him at church?

Stacey snapped it off. She sniffed, and her hands flew over the car’s controls, shifting, turning, accelerating, while she stared ahead and said nothing.

It’d be up to him to start the conversation, and he didn’t have much time.

“Stace, I don’t know what to do or say anymore. Seems everything I do is wrong. It’s driving me crazy.” He waited for a reaction, but static tension filled the silence. He plunged onward. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m really worried about you. I’m afraid I’m going to lose you—like,
really
lose you.”

Her brow pinched, she glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“Like, if I don’t do everything right, you might … die.”

“What? You think I’m suicidal or something?”

“No. You’re not, are you? No, I mean, I’m trying to understand why you’re doing what you’re doing and what I can do to help you.”

Her tight grip on the steering wheel looked painful, especially her knuckles poking upward against pale skin. Sick. Not normal. Calvin forced himself to look out the side window. They drove over a narrow concrete bridge crossing Flowers Creek. That little slip of water snaked through the woods for a quarter mile before it marked the southern property line of his family’s farm. They’d reach his driveway in about a minute.

“Calvin, do you honestly think I’m so stupid that I’ll kill myself?”

No time for subtleties. He stared at her, his eyes narrowed. “You are killing yourself day by day. You’re starving yourself right before my eyes.”

She drove on without responding, but her chin quivered and the car slowed, as if she couldn’t maintain firm pressure on the gas pedal. Before the car reached his driveway, it was crawling along Victory Church Road. A tear traced down Stacey’s cheek and she sniffed.

Calvin looked away. Her tears would destroy him. “Why?” he said aloud without meaning to.

“Why what?” Her voice was thick, choked.

“Why is this happening?”

Gravel popped beneath the tires as she rolled into the driveway. Sights Calvin had known his entire life pressed in on him, no longer
safe and secure, instead telling him he had no time. If he got out of the car, she would leave—he was certain—and then he’d be alone with a hurting heart and no answers.

He took a deep breath and forced out what had to be said. “It’s got to stop, Stacey. You have to see a doctor. I’m not going to watch you starve yourself to death.”

“What are you saying? If I don’t do what you want, you’ll break up with me?”

He squeezed an answer through his tightened throat. “Yes.”

“Calvin!”

He clamped his eyes shut. “Yes. I don’t want to break up with you, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend I don’t see the truth.” One hot tear leaked onto the bridge of his nose on the wrong side, where she couldn’t see it.

“Please, no,” she whimpered. “Calvin, I know things are really weird right now, and that’s why I
need
you. My life … my life is like … spinning out of control. I don’t have control over
anything
. I need you to … to … be my hero. To be here for me when everything’s crazy.”