“There’s gotta be somewhere you can go, Lola. Someone you can stay with.” He paused. “I wish…I wish it was me. I wish I could help you.”
Lola touched his arm. “You do, Jack. You have no idea how much just being with you helps me.”
“I think I do, actually,” he quietly replied.
She looked away from the intensity of his gaze, frightened by the depth of emotion she’d glimpsed in his eyes.
They didn’t speak for a long time as they walked.
Jack finally glanced at her. “I want you to meet someone.”
Curious, Lola asked, “Who?”
“What’s your favorite color?”
She opened her mouth, paused, and answered, “Orange. Yours? Let me guess. Black? Who am I meeting?”
“Blue. Like your eyes. The same exact shade, actually. Periwinkle blue. And I’m not telling.”
Lola stopped walking. Her chest squeezed. No one had ever paid such attention to the color of her eyes before.
Jack kept his steady pace and she had no choice but to catch up. A smile kept fighting to the surface, and eventually, Lola let it.
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”
Lola tilted her head. “Australia.”
“Really? G-day, mate, and all that?”
“Why not? I like the way Aussies talk. What about you?”
Jack kicked at a loose rock with his boot. “I’d go to Mississippi.”
“Talk about adventurous. What’s so great about Mississippi?”
“My mom was born there. I have distant relatives there.”
Something in his voice was off. Lola reached over and grabbed his hand. “Where is your mom?” she asked quietly.
Jack’s profile was grim. “Dead.”
His pace picked up and Lola knew he wouldn’t be sharing anymore with her on that subject. Her heart ached. One more thing they had in common.
“My dad died when I was four.”
Jack didn’t respond, but she felt the light squeeze of her fingers. She tightened her grip on his hand. They continued in silence.
A mile down the road there was an old farmhouse set in a rambling lawn of trees. In the dark Lola could see the peeling white paint, the shingles rising up, and the overgrown lawn. Jack walked up two cement steps and looked over his shoulder at her.
“I know it’s not a palace, but…” Jack shrugged.
When Lola didn’t move, he motioned to her. Jack went inside, the door banging shut behind him.
The lingering smells of garlic were strong in the kitchen. The room had white walls, old appliances, and a battered table with three mismatched chairs. But it was clean. There was not a speck of dirt in the room, not a cobweb on a wall. The refrigerator hummed and she heard a television from another room in the house.
Lola left the kitchen and found herself in the living room. ‘The Golden Girls’ was on the TV. The room was long and narrow. Shelves that held knickknacks took up one wall. Pictures hung from another. There was a potted plant under a window.
The walls were paneled. A burgundy couch took up a wall; a brown recliner was in one corner, and a tan one in another. A girl slept on the tan recliner, a purple blanket wrapped around her.
She was beautiful. Long blond curls, thick eyelashes, bow-shaped mouth. She was a softer, more innocent version of her brother. Isabelle. She was the person Jack wanted to protect most in the world; she was the one he forfeited himself for.
There was a closed door to her left. The sound of running water could be heard through the thin door. Lola noted the staircase to the right. That must be where the bedrooms were.
The water shut off. Lola’s heartbeat irrationally picked up as she waited for the door to open.
Jack stepped out, jacket gone. He wore a red shirt that read ‘Stone Temple Pilots’. It was tight and she could see his well-defined chest through it. His jeans were low on his waist. Lola felt something deep in her belly and looked away.
“She fell asleep waiting up for me. She does every night. I tell her not to, but…” Jack looked down at his sister, tenderness softening his features. At that moment he was the most handsome boy she’d ever seen.
Jack leaned down and gently shook his sister. “Isabelle. Wake up.”
Isabelle mumbled something and swatted at her brother.
“Isabelle. Come on. There’s someone here to meet you.”
It was like a switch was flipped. Isabelle jerked upright, blinking her sleepy eyes. She looked at Jack and turned her head to face Lola. Her pretty face was wary, suspicious.
“Hi,” Lola said, hands clasped in front of her.
“Hi.”
Lola felt awkward and unsure of what to say. Isabelle didn’t seem particularly happy to meet her. She wondered why. What did she know about her, or think she knew about her? Lola knew she hadn’t been a snob last year, even though Jack insinuated such. Had she unknowingly snubbed the younger girl at some point?