Sweet Nothing(52)

A quiet dark-haired student in the back grins. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile all year. “It’s just spearmint, Ms. Markley.”

“Gross. Never mind, then. Carry on.” When Gwen reaches the door, she turns around. “Ms. Sloane?”

“Yes, Ms. Markley?”

She lifts her planner to her lips, shielding them from the rest of the room. “Just…” She mouths the last two words. I can read them perfectly.

Be careful.





chapter twenty



Elle,



So… I’m thinking of going to visit Dad. I just can’t stand the thought of him there, in that cell. I keep picturing something out of a TV show, but deep down, I know it’s way worse. You must think I’m ridiculous, right? To want to see him after what he’s done? But even he doesn’t deserve to feel completely alone. There’s nothing worse in the world.



Love you for infinity,



A





I go for a quick run after school, then shower and change into leggings and a tank top I stole from Aria’s closet a long time ago. She’s several inches taller than me, with a dancer’s body, and I’ve always liked the way her shirts are just a little long on me. Plus, despite the fact that I’ve held the top hostage for years now, it still smells like her.

“Okay.” I fling open the refrigerator and unearth the bags of groceries I bought during my free period. I went overboard: fresh shrimp for enchiladas. Avocado, chiles, tomatoes, red onion, cilantro, and limes for homemade guacamole. Chocolate-covered macaroons for dessert.

I prep the enchiladas, shelling the shrimp and chopping peppers, onion, and garlic. Then I turn on the stove and pour myself a glass of cold white wine while the pan heats. I haven’t thought about Aria’s Email this afternoon, mostly because I don’t want to. Why the sudden desire to visit our father in prison? Because she pities him? I can’t stand the thought of Aria having to see the inside of that place. Not that I’ve ever been, or even plan on going. But the image of Aria, sweet, fragile Aria, sitting across from my father in an orange jumpsuit, or he wears, makes my heart ache.

My cell rings on the counter and I jump, sending wine over the edge of my glass. I toss a dishrag on the floor and nudge it around with my foot.

“Hello?”

“It’s so funny how we do that, isn’t it? Say hello even though we already checked the screen, and we know who’s on the other line, unless of course the call is blocked. And I don’t know about you, but I’m just not gonna answer a blocked—”

“Hello, Luke.” I cut him off with a laugh. “Yes, I knew it was you, and yes, I said hello anyway, because, well, I’m nice that way.”

“You’re nice lots of ways.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, so are you.” I slide the veggies into the pan, and they make a satisfying sizzle. “Like when you made me dinner last night. And then breakfast this morning. Did I thank you for that, by the way?”

“Probably. I just couldn’t hear it, with your tires squealing in my driveway.” He pauses. “Hey, are you okay? You sound like you’re crying.”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly. “Onions. I’m making dinner for the roommates, as an apology for going AWOL last night.”

“Partly my fault. But it was worth it.”

“Agreed.” I find a fresh cutting board and start to chop the avocado. “I didn’t see you at school today. You didn’t play hooky, did you?”

“I was there. Just stuck in my studio, working on stuff. Dr. Goodwin wants some more art for his office, so I told him I’d pull together a few things. His space is pretty bare right now.” I can hear him crunching on something. Tortilla chips, maybe. I find my own bag of blue corn chips and tear it open. “Am I invited for dinner, or am I doomed to eat leftover risotto?” He sniffs and lets out a shuddery sigh.

I turn down the heat, then add shrimp to the vegetables. “I think this should be a girls’ night. But after we finish up here, you could come over for coffee or something.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I was just kidding. I still have work to do. You guys have fun.”

“Don’t work too hard.”

“Won’t. Later, pretty girl.”

I end the call regretfully, staring at the blank screen long after we’ve both hung up. There’s a longing inside me that has only intensified with the sound of his voice. Already, I miss him. Which is ridiculous, since we were just having breakfast together a matter of hours ago. But there’s something about being around him that makes me need him even more.

I unroll flour tortillas and spoon veggies, shrimp, and cheese into them. Then I pick some of the shrimp out again, to give Gwen a vegetarian option. After I wrap the enchiladas, I sprinkle more cheese on top and slide them into the oven, all the while thinking about Luke. I know there are issues: my lies, his ex and the fact that he has a daughter. But when I’m not around him, none of that matters. Or maybe I don’t want it to matter.