Intertwined. Gena Showalter
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Mary Ann said, dropping her focus to the iron tabletop. Her tongue suddenly felt huge and glued to the roof of her mouth. Worse, her brain seemed to have taken a vacation and she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Awkward silence bloomed between them.
Penny released a heavy sigh. “Fine. Allow me. Her name’s Mary Ann Gray, and she’s a junior at Crossroads High School. I’ll give you her phone number if you ask nicely.”
“Penny.” Mary Ann slapped her friend’s shoulder.
Penny ignored her. “What’s your name? And where do you go to school?” she asked the boy. “Wild Horse?” Disgust dripped from her tone.
“I’m Aden. Aden Stone. I just moved here. And I don’t go to public school.” Pause. “Yet. But what’s wrong with Wild Horse?”
His voice was deep and oddly shiver-inducing. She forced herself to focus on his words, though, rather than his tone. He’d said he didn’t go to public school. Did that mean he attended private school? Or that he was homeschooled?
“Hello, it’s only our biggest rival and home of the worst humans on earth.” Penny kicked out a chair. “But since you don’t go there, would you like to join us, Aden Stone?”
“Oh, I—I—if you wouldn’t mind?” The question was directed at Mary Ann.
Before she could reply—not that she’d known what to say—Penny preened and replied, “Of course she wouldn’t mind. She was just telling me she hoped you’d join us. Sit, sit. Tell us about yourself.”
Slowly Aden inched into the chair, as though he feared having it shoved out from under him. The sun stroked him lovingly, practically worshipping his beautiful face. And for a moment, only a moment, Mary Ann saw those different hues in his eyes again. Green, blue, gold and brown. Amazing. But as quickly as they appeared, they vanished, leaving that blazing onyx.
The scent of pine and newborn baby drifted from him. Why a baby? From a wet wipe, maybe? Anyway, dirty as he was, she would have expected a more unpleasant odor. Instead, the sweet smell reminded her of something … of someone. Who, she couldn’t place. She just knew she had a sudden urge to hug him.
Hug him?
From attraction to curiosity to distaste to affection? Seriously, what was wrong with her? And what would Tucker say? She’d never flirted with other boys—not that she was flirting now—so she had no idea how Tucker would react if she did. He might be a piranha on the football field, but he’d always been nice to her.
“I was wondering … I saw you outside the cemetery,” Aden said to Mary Ann. “Do you, uh … did you … notice anything that disturbed you?”
So hesitant, he was. It was kind of cute. Sweet, too. The urge to hug him increased. But she merely blinked over at him, unsure she’d heard him correctly. Had he felt that bizarre wind, too? “Like what?”
“Never mind.” Slowly he grinned, and it was a grin that not only rivaled Penny’s, but surpassed it.
Guess he hadn’t, she thought. “Were you visiting a loved one there?”
“Uh, no. I, uh, work there. Just so you know, news stations will probably be blasting stories about the desecration of several graves soon. I was … cleaning things up.”
Was her mother’s grave okay? It had better be!
“How wonderfully morbid.” Penny blew a puff of smoke in his direction. “Are you ever tempted to do a little digging and steal a little bling?”
To his credit, he didn’t cough or flinch. “Never,” he said, turning to shield his face as a pudgy man walked by their table.
Hiding? Maybe that was his boss and he wasn’t supposed to be on break.
She studied him, wondering what he—Her gaze caught on the bruise on his neck and she gasped. “Oh, ouch! What happened to you?” There were two puncture wounds, both a mix of blue and black. Teeth marks, she realized then, and blushed. He could have gotten them from a girl. Probably had. “Never mind. That’s personal. You don’t have to answer that.”
He didn’t. He covered the wounds with his hand, his own cheeks heating.
“Great, two prudes at one table.” Penny released a long- suffering sigh. “So what do you do for fun, Aden? Where do you go to school, if not public? And do you have a girlfriend? I’m assuming the answer is yes, since you’ve been nibbled on, but I’m hoping you’ll tell us it’s about to end.”
His attention returned to Mary Ann. “I’m more curious about Mary Ann. Why don’t we talk about her?”
Way to dodge the questions, she thought.
“Yes, Mary Ann.” Penny rested her elbows on the table, expression mockingly rapt. “Tell us about your exciting fifteen-year plan.”
Mary Ann knew what her friend was doing: trying to force her to voice her supposed dullness so that she’d realize she needed excitement. How many times had Mary Ann told her that admitting a problem was the first step to fixing it? Penny must have been listening because, for once, she was acting as the shrink. “Another word out of you and I’m going to take you up on your earlier offer. Your tongue will look nice above my bed.”
Palms up and out, Penny projected her innocence. “Just trying to lighten the mood, sugar.” Grinning, she dropped her cigarette to the concrete and smashed it with her foot. “Maybe the only way to do that is to leave. You two can get to know each other.”
“No,” Mary Ann rushed out when her friend stood. “Stay.”
“Nah. I’ll just cause more trouble.”
Aden watched the exchange, head zinging back and forth between them, expression bemused.
“You won’t.” Mary Ann gripped Penny’s wrist and tugged her back into the chair. “You’ll—” A thought occurred to her and she gasped. “Oh, no. What time is it?” She set her mocha on the tabletop, pulled her cell from her pocket and glanced at the clock. Just as she’d feared. “I’ve got to go.” If she didn’t hurry, she wouldn’t make it back to the Watering Pot in time.
“I’ll walk you wherever you’re going. I don’t mind.” Aden jumped up so quickly, his chair skidded behind him and knocked into a man who’d been walking past. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“I’m in a mad rush, so I … I think I should go on my own. I’m sorry.” Best this way, she told herself. Her blood was still burning in her veins, her stomach still clenching. She leaned forward and kissed Penny on the cheek before standing herself. “It was nice meeting you, though, Aden.” Kind of.
“You, too.” He sounded despondent.
She backed up a step, stopped. Backed up another step, a dark corner of her mind shouting for her to stay, despite everything.
Aden moved toward her, saying, “Can I call you? I would love to call you.”
“I—” She opened her mouth to say yes. That dark corner wanted to see him again and figure out why she felt both pain and affection in his presence. The rest of her, the rational side of her nature, listed all the reasons to stay away from him: School. Grades. Tucker. Fifteen-year plan. Yet still she had to fight to work, “No, I’m sorry,” out of her throat.
Whirling, she headed back to the Watering Pot, wondering if she’d just made a huge mistake. A mistake she would regret for the rest of her life, just as Penny had predicted.
THREE
ADEN WATCHED as Mary Ann walked away from him.
“Here’s her number. If you still want to call her, that is, considering her rudeness,” the girl named Penny said, sliding a piece of paper toward Aden. “The second number is mine. In case you decide you