Rush (26 page)

“Go get your drums, Wolf,” Brad said. “We’ll
have some fun and then eat.”

Wolf jumped up and made for the door. He
seemed friendly enough, even if he was testing me. Selene, though...the way she
kept looking at me and Max made me tense and wary. She kept glancing at him,
making me wonder if they’d ever been together. She was quite beautiful with her
long, black hair and dark eyes, her slender figure, the funky clothing that
reminded me vaguely of something Medieval. Leggings, tunic, ankle-high flat
boots, a scarf draped in an artistic cowl around her neck and shoulders.
Pentacle earrings dangled from her ears. Maybe she was one of the witches.

I snuggled more deeply against Max’s
side. Selene’s gaze faltered and slipped away to study something else. Wolf
came back in carrying several Native American-style drums and a sack slung on
his back. He set down his burdens, opening the sack and withdrawing a couple of
tambourines.

“I’ve got a doumbek, if anyone wants it,”
he said.

“What’s a doumbek?” I said.

“A Middle-Eastern drum shaped like an
hourglass.” He reached into the sack again and pulled out another drum. The
body looked like it was made of metal, with intricate designs chased into the
surface.

“I’ll play it if no-one else wants to,”
Wolf said.

“No-one else can do it as impressively
as you,” Max remarked.

“Very true.” Wolf grinned at me. “What
do you want to play?”

“Uh...I have no idea. I’ve never done
this before.”

He tossed me a tambourine. “These are
pretty easy.”

I’d never been that close to one before.
It was like a small, shallow drum. It had a skin head and little cymbal-like
things set in the rim. I shook it experimentally and it gave a satisfying
rattle.

“Cool,” I said.

Max took one of the drums. Everyone else
grabbed an instrument and Wolf sat down cross-legged on the floor. He set his
doumbek on his lap so the head faced forward and the bottom of the drum faced
outward behind him. Weird. I’d never seen a drum played that way before, but
then what did I know about percussion? Nothing, really.

He immediately launched into a complex
rhythm, which the others picked up after a few bars. My hands were still
sweating. I tapped carefully on the head of the tambourine, trying to follow
along without making too much noise in case I screwed up. I didn’t want to ruin
it for the others.

The truth was that I didn’t really
understand the point of all this. I mean, they weren’t in a band, were they?
Not that there’s anything wrong with friends getting together and playing music,
but there was no melody. Just the beat, which went on and on and on, seemingly
forever.

Sometimes it slowed down for awhile and
sometimes it sped up. People offered variations that acted as percussive grace
notes, for lack of a better term, but the rhythm itself just kept on. And on.
And on.

I found myself relaxing into it, my
tapping on the tambourine growing more confident. I even swayed a little to the
beat. Max glanced at me and smiled. Apparently, I was doing all right. I smiled
back.

After a while, it began to seem like the
rhythm was all there was in the world. Very strange, I know, but it was like a
kind of trance came over me and I just flowed with the sound. I can’t explain
it any other way. I could feel waves of energy moving around the room. Sound
energy, sure, but there was something else, too, that I didn’t know how to
name.

Maybe that energy was the point?

Eventually, the drumming slowed, growing
quieter, and finally stopped.

Wolf grinned at me. “You did well.”

“I hardly did anything.”

“Not true,” Max said. “You participated.
That’s more than a lot of people would have done.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah,” Selene said. “We’ve had
girls go running out of here screaming their heads off.”

I studied her, wondering if she was
kidding. She didn’t seem to be, but there was a hint of sarcasm in her voice so
I wasn’t sure.

“Some people are afraid to try,” Marie
said. “And you tried. That speaks well of you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I
didn’t say anything.

Brad set his drum down on the floor. “I’m
starving. Let’s eat.”

I leaned into Max. “What just happened?”
I whispered.

“What do you mean?” he whispered back.

“What was the drumming about?”

“I’ll explain later. For now, just think
of it as a way to relax.”

“Hmm. Okay.” It had been relaxing, so I
guess it worked. 

Dinner was spaghetti with meatballs. The
food was good and the company was...okay. They were friendlier now that I’d
participated in the drumming, but I felt awkward and out of place. They talked
about things I couldn’t relate to and sometimes didn’t even understand. I’d
have to ask Max for a translation later. Would I ever fit in with his friends?

***

Trent’s fraternity house looked oddly
sad in the rain. The garden surrounding it was in bad shape, something I hadn’t
really noticed before. The shrubs were all massively overgrown and the lawn was
full of weeds. The siding on the house needed painting. None of it had anything
to do with me, though, so why was I standing on the sidewalk studying it like I
was responsible for fixing it up?

Boy, I really did not want to carry
through on the reason I’d come here. I hadn’t been back since the night of that
awful party, and it was pretty much the last place on earth I wanted to be.
Plus, I was by myself.

I couldn’t tell Max I was coming here.
He’d pitch a fit. Okay, probably not; he was reasonable to a fault. But it
would hurt his feelings, even if he knew why I’d come.

I marched up the concrete walk to the
front door, stomach churning, and rang the bell. There was no portico or other
shelter from the rain, so while I waited, water dripped continually on my head.
Inside, male voices shouted with laughter. They were apparently not studying at
the moment.

Greg Talbot opened the door. He blinked
at me and then broke out in a huge grin. “Caroline.”

“Hi, Greg. I need to see Trent.”

Greg glanced over his shoulder with a
nervous jerk of his head. “Ah. Um, he’s sort of busy at the moment.”

“Well, I have something of his to
return. Can he take a minute to talk to me?”

“Um...I can find out for you.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Greg turned away from the door.

“Greg? I’d like to come inside. It’s
raining out here.”

“Oh, yeah.” He turned red as he opened
the door enough for me to enter. “Sorry about that.”

I could have asked him what was wrong,
but I wasn’t real eager to find out, considering he’d groped me the last time I’d
seen him. Instead, I came into the foyer and stood near the door with my hands
clasped, dripping. This was as far as I wanted to go. They had a visitor’s
room, and I wasn’t setting foot in it.

Greg stuck his head into the living
room. “Chambers!” he bellowed. “You’re wanted downstairs.”

“Busy,” yelled a deep, familiar voice
from upstairs.

“You have a visitor. Get your ass down
here.” Greg turned to me with an apologetic shrug. “He’s been real busy lately.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” With Tiffani, no
doubt.

The thundering sound of a six-foot male
tearing down the stairs preceded Trent skidding around the corner in stocking
feet. He wore no shirt. He slid across the smooth wooden floor of the hall and
came to a halt with a surprised stare at me.

“Caroline.”

“I have something to give you,” I said,
and held out the paper bag I carried. Inside were the garnet and pearl earrings
he’d given me.

He accepted the bag with a puzzled
frown. “I don’t remember leaving anything at your place.”

“Yeah. There’s only this one thing.”

He opened the bag and peered inside.
Then he looked at me with a scowl. “You don’t have to give these back to me.
They’re for you.”

“I can’t keep them. They’re too
expensive.”

“Well, I don’t want them.” He tried to
give them back to me.

I refused to take the bag. “I’m with
someone else now. I can’t wear your earrings. Just—I don’t care what you do
with them. Give them to your mom. Whatever. But I’m not keeping them.”

I turned to walk out the door.

“What’s taking so long, babe?” said a
sugary female voice. Tiffani. “Oh. It’s her.” The voice had a distinctly acid
note to it now.

I suppressed a smile as I walked out the
door. I’d divested myself of the earrings, my last physical tie to him, and it
made me feel much lighter. Knowing they were together, possibly doing something
sexual right before I’d arrived, hadn’t bothered me at all. As far as I was
concerned, Trent and Tiffani deserved each other.

Chapter 20

Caroline

Finals Week was over. Fall term was
over, and we were all off to our various families for the break. That meant I
was in Portland and Max was still in Avery’s Crossing. I hated it. I’d never
missed a guy this way before, with a gut-wrenching sense of loss. Even three
months away from Trent hadn’t bothered me as much.

Today I was putting ornaments on the
tree, not with any enthusiasm, but it had to be done and it was my traditional
job. I’m not sure how I came to be the family tree-trimmer, just that by the
age of twelve or so it was established as my special chore. The best thing
about it was I could control the lights. There were no strings of single colors
on my tree, except for white. Everything else was multi-color, because that’s
the way I like it.

The doorbell rang.

“Lily, can you get that?” I called. “I’m
all tangled up in Christmas lights.”

I heard my sister’s little footsteps
thundering into the foyer and smiled. She never walked anywhere if she could
run instead. A few seconds later, she came pounding into the living room.

“There’s someone at the door for you,”
she said breathlessly.

“Who?”

“Some guy named Mac.”

My belly began fluttering wildly. “You
mean Max?”

“Mac, Max, whatever,” she said, and
thundered out of the room.

I disentangled myself from the lights
and went to the door. He was leaning against the doorjamb, hands in his
pockets, looking as nonchalant as usual, a lock of his thick black hair sliding
into his eyes. Then he saw me and smiled and there was nothing nonchalant about
that at all.

“Hi,” I said, sounding more breathless
than Lily. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

“I couldn’t wait.” He took my hands and
stood looking down at me.

Awkwardness stole my words and made it
impossible for me to meet his gaze. We’d spent such an intense time together,
and then been parted for days. Seeing him again, especially here, was almost
like having a dream figure come to life. I’d missed him so much, and now he was
here I didn’t know what to say to him or how to behave.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmured.

I tilted my face up. “Yes.”

He cupped my jaw in his warm palm and
bent his head to mine. God, his kiss, so warm and wet and tasting so exactly
like Max. It melted every bit of awkwardness. I put my arms around his
shoulders and kissed him back with a little moan of excitement.

“Ew,” said a ten year old voice behind
us.

Max released me slowly. I turned to see
Lily watching us, her nose wrinkled up as tightly as it would go.

“This is my sister, Lily,” I said. “Lily,
this is my boyfriend, Max.”

She just stared at him with her nose
still wrinkled. “I thought Trent was your boyfriend.”

“He was. I broke up with him.”

“Oh. That’s okay. I didn’t like him
anyway.” She spun on her heel and dashed out of the room.

Max and I smiled at each other.

“Have you had lunch?” I said. “We could
go somewhere.”

“That would be good. What were you doing
before I got here?”

“Putting up the Christmas tree. I was
all tied up in the lights.”

He leered at me. “Sounds like a kinky
Christmas tree.”

I slapped his arm and he laughed.

“We don’t talk like that around here.”

“Sorry.” His face went sober so quickly
and in such an exaggerated way that I laughed, too.

“Let me get my things,” I said.

I turned to let my mom know where I was
going. Max stayed at the door. I paused and looked over my shoulder at him. He
seemed tense, his attitude of nonchalance gone, his hands tight at his sides.

When I realized he wasn’t coming with
me, I stopped and held out my hand. “Come in. Meet my mom.”

“Are you sure you want that?” he said,
looking doubtful.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I do.” I
grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come on.”

He let me pull him through the living
room with its strong scent of fir tree and into the kitchen, where my mom was
deep into a batch of sugar cookies. She looked up from her work at the island;
her eyes opened wider as she noticed Max and her hands stilled on her rolling
pin.

“Mom, this is Max. We’re going out to
lunch together.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Winters,”
Max said in a completely conventional, respectful tone. Until then, I hadn’t
known he could do conventional.

“Yes, um, it’s good to meet you, too,”
Mom said. “Caroline has told us all about you.”

“Has she?” His dark eyes twinkled with
amusement.

“Yes. She—” Mom’s gaze slid to mine,
then back to Max. “She said you were Trent’s stepbrother.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Max said. He looked
like he wanted to add something else, but wisely kept it to himself.

“Where are you going?” Mom said.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Probably
Twenty-third Avenue or something like that. Maybe the Pearl District.” I wanted
to show Max one of Portland’s funky shopping areas. I looked up at him. “Want
Chinese food? There are some good places in our little Chinatown. Plus we can
see the Chinese Garden.”

“Sure. Sounds good,” he said easily.

“Well, you kids have fun,” Mom said,
eyeing him. “Drive carefully. You know how crazy Portland drivers are.”

I’d always heard Portland driving was
excessively polite for a mid-sized city, but what did I know?

“I’m used to Seattle, Mrs. Winters, so I
can probably handle Portland,” Max said.

“Oh. Right. Well, like I said, have fun.”

I could tell she wasn’t especially happy
about Max showing up. A few months ago, that would have stopped me. I would
have made some excuse to Max and called the whole thing off. Now, I was sorry
my mom didn’t immediately like him, but I wasn’t going to let that interfere
with our relationship.

I linked my arm through his. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t think your mom likes me,” he
said as we got into his car.

“She’ll get over it. She doesn’t even
know you yet, and once she does, she’ll like you.”

He gave me a doubtful look. “I wouldn’t
be so sure about that.”

“Well, even if she doesn’t, it won’t
make a difference to me.” I leaned across the gear shift and kissed him. “I
like you.”

His face slowly warmed into a smile. “I
like you too.”

For a moment, we just stared at each
other, goofy smiles on our faces. Then Max straightened and turned the
ignition.

“We can take your car if it would make
you more comfortable,” he said. “I don’t mind being the passenger.”

“That’s very twenty-first century of you,
but I’m fine with you driving.”

Max pulled out of our driveway. “You
know, that’s the first time I’ve met the parents. Or one of them, anyway.”

I stared at him, startled. “You’ve never
met any of your girlfriends’ parents?”

“No. I never had a real girlfriend
before. Not like you.” He sent me a smile and a sidelong glance. “You’re
different.”

“Wow.” I settled back against the seat
and tried to collect my thoughts.

What did it mean that I was the first
girl who’d ever taken him to meet the parents?

“I didn’t have any girls in high school,”
he said.

“Oh? Why not? You’re so hot; I’d think
all the girls would be crawling over each other to get to you.”

He snorted a disbelieving laugh. “Not
exactly. Besides, Trent and his friends saw to it no girl would get close to
me.”

“What a jackass.” Why had I dated that
guy?

Max shrugged. “I got really good at
dealing with bullies because of him.”

“What about Brad and Marie? Didn’t you
take any girls home to them? Or go to the girls’ homes?”

“I never really dated in the usual
sense,” he said. “And the one girl I was with for more than a couple of weeks
was someone they already knew.”

“What about her family?”

“They live back east.” He slanted
another glance at me. “I really don’t want to talk about them, anyway. They’re
in the past. You’re here with me now.”

He picked up my hand and lifted it to
his lips. The sweetness of the gesture made my heart clench. When I’d met him,
all I’d seen was the rebel. A hot rebel, sure, but still all bad-boy attitude.
That was a part of him and probably always would be, but now I could see a
gentle, sweet side that I loved.

Loved?

That word stopped me cold. I stared out
the window at the rain, our hands still clasped, and wondered if I’d fallen in
love with him. For a while, I’d thought I was in love with Trent, yet the way I’d
felt about him was like the flame on a birthday candle compared to the bonfire
that was my feeling for Max.

How would he react if I said I loved
him? It was probably too soon. I didn’t want to scare him away or make him
think I expected anything from him. Like a ring, for example.

“What are you thinking about?” he said.

“Nothing. Just letting my mind wander.”