Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Nikki—

Long Beach, California

The house is nothing like I expected. Vibrant framed pictures decorate the warm colored walls, making it feel more like a home than anyplace I’ve ever lived. Yet sleep didn’t come easy last night. The first night in a new place never does. I should know, I’ve had plenty of first nights.

Forcing myself from bed earlier than I need to, I take the time to explore with Aunt Claire gone to run errands for a few hours. My first stop— the framed photos on the mantel above the fireplace. Not wanting to appear too nosey, I’ve glanced but haven’t had a chance to really take a good look.

The first photo is of two little girls, their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulder while they smile brightly for the camera. The taller girl is holding a garden hose and has a mischievous grin on her face; the younger girl is drenched from head to toe. I almost don’t recognize Mom with that easy, carefree smile. It makes me wonder if she was born broken or if something happened after that photo to make her the way she was by the time I was born.

The photo next to it was taken at Aunt Claire’s graduation from nursing school. She looks the same, only younger. The older woman beside her, my grandmother, a woman I’ve never seen, smiles proudly at her daughter dressed in an all-white uniform.

I pick up the largest of the photos, running my finger along the outline of the etched glass frame, studying the picture of the happy couple on their wedding day. Aunt Claire looks beautiful in a traditional white wedding dress, the kind you see on television with a long train and a veil that covers her face. Her husband is dressed in a simple dark suit; a huge smile lights up his face as he looks down at his new bride. They both look so happy, I get an ache in my chest thinking of how she must have felt when she lost him.

I turn, contemplating what I feel as I take in the entirety of the room…the pictures, the furniture, the bookshelves filled with books…it’s all just so…normal. A feeling I’m entirely not used to.

***

My face is buried in a book when Aunt Claire comes in carrying groceries a few hours later.

“How did you sleep?” she asks, as I follow her out to the car to help her get the rest of the bags.

I shrug. “Okay, I guess.” Why worry her that I tossed and turned half the night.

Aunt Claire smiles cautiously. “It will get easier. I promise. I always have trouble sleeping in a new place.” Together, we begin to unpack the groceries. “I was thinking…how about we go get a new outfit for your first day of school Monday?”

I look down. “What’s wrong with my clothes?” My voice comes out a bit defensively.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. It’s just…my mother always bought us a new outfit for the first day of school. It was sort of a tradition.” She smiles. “I always looked forward to it.” Her smile falters a bit, her voice dipping lower and softer. “So did your mom. I thought maybe you would too.” I find myself wondering what it would be like to go shopping with my sister. I really want to ask more questions, but it’s too soon to risk poking around and making Aunt Claire suspicious of my intentions.

I agree to go shopping, although I’m not really sure I’ll be sticking around long enough to create any traditions here.

By the end of the day, the new school outfit had exploded into three outfits, new exercise clothes, earbuds, a backpack and school supplies. At times, I actually had fun shopping with Aunt Claire.

***

Saturday morning, sporting new shorts, a tank top, and purple earbuds in my ears, I stand outside the front door and stretch my calves. I haven’t exercised in almost a month, and the burn as I pull my foot back behind me to stretch my hamstring is a pain I welcome.

“Are you sure you remember the directions I gave you?” Aunt Claire comes outside and asks for the third time. She’s worried I’ll get lost on my run.

Smiling at her nervousness, I pull one ear bud from my ear. “Straight four blocks to Main, left two blocks to Arnold Ave, right on Front Street…that takes me to the high school track.”

She looks relieved, a little bit at least. “You have your phone?”

I nod.

“Watch out for cars. Run with only one ear bud in so you can hear things around you.”

“Always do. I’ll be fine.” I start off on my run, yelling back over my shoulder with a smile, “Give me an hour before you send out the helicopter search party, okay?”

***

I’ve never been a sports kid. Running is the only physical activity that I’ve ever participated in. Ashley liked to tease me that I was into running because it’s one of the few sports where you don’t have to be on a team. She wasn’t entirely wrong. Running makes me feel in control, yet free at the same time. It clears my head, makes everything seem less complicated. Simpler.

Entering the track, I’m surprised to find it almost empty. Saturday morning is usually prime time for the jocks to get in their run. Then again, the grey clouds that were starting to roll in when I left the house twenty minutes ago are only starting to clear.

I take the first lap at a steady pace, preferring to alternate between sprinting and jogging, rather than the monotony of staying even paced for five full miles. A boy about my age is a half lap ahead of me the entire time I make my way around the cushioned track. Arriving at the point I started at again, I change gears, shifting from jogging to sprinting, quickly catching up— and passing— him.

Lap two quickly behind me, I slow my pace back to a jog as I take on lap three. The boy catches up to and passes me. I smile as he sprints by and wonder if we’re doing the same patterned running, only on opposite schedules.

We continue on, taking turns passing each other for the next few laps, neither of us saying a word, but we catch each other stealing glances as we pass. He’s cute. Really cute. Tall, muscular but lean, sandy blonde hair, a strong jaw— almost a touch too beautiful for my taste, but Ashley would definitely call him hot. I can’t imagine many girls wouldn’t.

My last lap is a sprinting lap. Only this time, as soon as I pass Hot Boy, he speeds up…and passes me, even though he’s not at the point where he is due to switch gears. Keeping a few long strides ahead of me, he maintains his lead for several seconds, until I push myself harder, taking the lead back from him, although not easily. But my position at the front doesn’t last long. Hot Boy speeds up and regains the lead. My last lap becomes two laps. Together we run neck and neck, each taking turns edging out the other slightly. Without a doubt it has to be the fastest lap time I’ve ever run.

Crossing over the finish line, Hot Boy a horse hair before me, we both collapse, struggling to catch our breath. A few minutes later, my breathing finally leveling out, a large hand extends down to help me up. I take it, finally getting a good look at my opponent as he pulls me to my feet. Sparkling blue eyes, a perfectly straight nose and full lips that twitch up on one side steal my barely recovered breath away.

A lopsided, boyish grin forms across his lips and his eyes sweep across my heaving chest. I smile back and, as fast as it came, his smile vanishes. Without a word, he raises a hand, signaling goodbye, turns and takes off, running away from the track.

The entire jog back, I wonder what made his smile disappear so fast.