Part 64 (1/2)
I don't know. Museum stuff?
They had s.e.x, Charity.
OMG!!!.
It goes on like that for about fifteen minutes. Finally I've had enough, say bye-bye to Charity and start pacing my room. I need to make up my mind about my admissions letters. I'm either going to buckle down and go where she wants or make a stand and go where I want.
I'm starting to lean towards going my own way. I could get a job on the side to support myself while I work, and I'd come through it debt free. I'll do the same if I go Mom's way, but then I'll have surrendered and solidly become her pet or her means to live vicariously or something.
After quite a while brooding, I hear a door swing shut and, curious, poke my head out into the hallway. That's when my mother walks past my room wearing a c.o.c.ktail dress. I'd hesitate to call it s.l.u.tty, I mean it's still her, but for her it's pretty risque, with a skirt that only comes down to her knees, bare shoulders, and a tight bodice. She's gone the whole nine yards, lipstick, earrings, a string of pearls, and she did up her hair, smoothing it against her head.
She actually looks pretty good. Younger, too.
”Yes?”
”Uh, nothing,” I squeak. ”Are you going out with that guy again?”
”Yes. We're going to Philadelphia for dinner and a movie.”
”What movie?”
”The Sixth Seal. Ingmar Bergman. It's showing at- ”Euuugh,” I choke out. ”Fine, fine. Have fun.”
She tilts her chin back a little. ”What are you going to do this evening?”
”Nothing,” I shrug.
”I've heard Lucas is throwing a party.”
”Mom, you're supposed to be talking me out of going to the jock's house party. You know his parents are down the sh.o.r.e.”
She waves her hand. ”You'll be fine. Besides, Lucas wouldn't hurt you. He adores you.”
I'm pretty sure half the things Lucas pictures doing with me would hurt, actually.
”No, not interested.”
She shrugs. ”I see. Fine, then. Enjoy sitting around doing nothing.”
G.o.d, my mother can be such a teenager sometimes. She grabs a clutch purse (that I've also never seen before) and heads downstairs.
Around seven thirty, I get bored. The Honda is still in the garage. Charity will have night s.h.i.+ft tonight, until the store closes, anyway. I can go hang out with her.
Main Street is pretty dead when I park at the end, feed the meter and walk down to Hermitage's. I'm a little surprised when there is no Charity in evidence, and her uncle is manning the counter. I'm doubly surprised that the guy from yesterday is back, sipping coffee from a styrofoam cup and nodding patiently as the old man tells one of his stories.
”So then Dave pulls down her top and starts yelling, and everybody at the swimming hole turns around to look. These two wads of tissues go floating down...”
”Where's Charity?” I break in.
I'm getting a little annoyed. My world is melting around me and my best friend is missing in action.
The old man waves his hand. ”She asked for the night off. First time in three years, I figured I'd give it to her. Her and some boy were going to the party at that little s.h.i.+thead's house. What's his name, Luke or something?”
”Lucas. She's going to Lucas' party. You're sure?”
He nods. ”Reasonably so. I was just talking to this young man here about-”
”Whatever, I need to go get her.”
”Hey.” Apollo says, and sips his coffee.
My knees buckle a little. Good G.o.d he's hot. He makes jeans and a t-s.h.i.+rt look good. I mean, model good. The cotton molds to his body with impossible precision, even lining those muscle channel things that dip into his belt. Charity came up with an obscene name for those, but I think the technical term is adonis belt.
Anyway.
”Hi. I've got to run.”
”Where are you off to?”
”I need to find my friend. I can't let her go to Lucas' party.”
I have no idea why I would divulge that information to this guy.
”Why?”
”Because he's bad news. There will be drinking and drugs.”
”Sounds like fun,” he smirks.
His smirk makes something flutter in my chest, but I can't let myself be distracted.
”I'm going to go find her.”
I turn on my heels and head for the door.
”Alone?”
I stop and turn back, one eyebrow quirked up. ”Uh, yeah. Why?”
”If it's dangerous, why don't you let me go with you?”
The old man nods, as if it sounds like a profoundly good idea. Apollo shrugs, that smirk widening a little until it threatens a grin.
”Why?”
”Why not? I wanted to see a bit of the town. I just moved here with my father.”
That should ring a bell, but why doesn't it?
It doesn't matter. This is crazy. A complete stranger is offering to go rescue Charity from Lucas' den of sc.u.m and villainy, and I'm thinking about taking him up on it. I'm thinking about quite a lot of things. Like his lips. He has very kissable lips. I spend so much time thinking about schoolwork and colleges and My Future I sometimes forget that boys exist. Now I'm looking at a boy and forgetting that Charity exists. Lucas would put one of his jacka.s.s friends up to asking her out and lead her into some kind of vile prank to humiliate her or something. Or worse.