Chapter 9:
At the bus stop the next morning, Meg wore nothing but a hoodie and because the weather was warm, worried Bailey would threaten to take her shopping for something more fashion-forward. A few kids tossed a ball around. Right. Baseball practice had started. She heard the buzz of a leaf blower, smelled freshly cut grass. Spring had officially reached Long Island.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, tried not to look at Chase. He was twenty feet away, laughing with some friends. She hung back, hoping he wouldn't notice her or ask her about the cell phone he'd left on her coffee table. It was a long time before she was able to sleep after he left her last night. What do you want?What do you want? His words played on an infinite loop because she never answered the question. If she were to be brutally honest with herself, it was because she couldn't answer his question.
She didn't know.
Not anymore.
A year ago, even a few months ago, it would have been easy to tell him. She wanted a degree. She wanted a good, steady job with a decent salary. She wanted — needed — to be able to take care of herself. For years, that's all she'd ever wanted. Until they'd been assigned to that stupid research project. Ever since then — ever since he'd looked at her like she was the most beautiful work of art ever sculpted, she'd wanted more and couldn't have it. His magic eyes, the words heavy with promise that he murmured to her, the way his strong hands trembled when he touched her, the scent of sugar that always clung to him but you had to be real close to notice — all of it — all of him — was a test she couldn't afford to fail. Look, don't touch. Wish, but don't hold your breath.
Because always — always — her father's words hunted down Chase's.
She'd finally told him to leave when she imagined his lips touching hers the way they had the night before their project was due. His eyes swirled green with hurt but she refused to cave in. She would not risk her future again. He shook his head once and left without a word.
She thought about calling Bailey, but didn't want to hear all the pro-Chase rhetoric she was sure Bailey would spew. Her mom got home at midnight. Meg heard her key in the door and sat up in her bed. But Pauline's steps were slow and heavy so Meg let her go straight to the small room beside hers where two minutes after the thud of shoes hitting the floor reached her ears, there wasn't a sound.
Meg hitched her backpack up and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. She looked back up the street and still saw no sign of Bailey. When she turned back, she felt Chase's gaze burning through her. She wanted to turn and run, but he held her there with nothing but his eyes. Her lips lifted in that smile, that damn smile, like he was the one who controlled them, controlled her. Maybe he did. With a last word to his friends, he strode over with a cautious grin.
"Hey."
"Hi."
"You okay? You don't look so good."
"Thanks a lot."
Chase's eyes popped. "No! I didn't mean you don't look good. You always look good. I just mean you don't look like you're having a good day—"
She shot up a hand to stop him before he back-pedaled off a cliff. "Relax. I get it. I'm not mad."
"Good. That's um, good." He looked at his feet. "I'm sorry if what I said upset you. That's not what I was trying to do."
"It's okay. Forget it." Please, dear God, please just let it drop. She looked at his shoes — at her shoes — down the street — anywhere but at him and his irresistible eyes. "Here's your phone." She shoved a hand in her pocket, pulled out the phone he'd left at her place.
"Oh. Right. Thanks."
She watched him scroll through the messages —including the one from Bailey— that she'd read and then changed back to Unread and would pretend to know nothing about. He shot her a worried look but luckily Bailey headed down the street.
"Hey, Bailey!"
Bailey stopped short, narrowed her eyes. "Um. Hi, Meg. What's up?"
"Nothing's up."
Chase gave half a laugh. "She's happy you're here to save her from big bad me. She's afraid of me. Isn't that right, Megan?"
She stiffened. "I am not afraid."
"Liar." Chase said without smiling. He turned and headed back to his friends as the bus turned the corner.
"Meg, did you guys have a fight or something?"
"Or something." When Bailey's mouth opened, Meg quickly changed the subject. "Why are you so late? You almost missed the bus."
Bailey bounced on her toes. "I was doing research."
Meg's jaw dropped.
The bus stopped with a squeal of brakes and a belch of exhaust. The group still gathered on the corner shoved their way on board. "Meg? You coming?"
She followed Bailey to a pair of empty seats, slid beside her. "You were doing 'research.' On what?" She asked with air quotes.
Bailey frowned. "On yearbooks. And what's with the quotey fingers?"
Meg let out her breath and slouched lower in her seat. She should have known. Bailey never willingly did anything resembling school work without lots of whining and eye-rolling. "Yearbooks. Is this for your game?"
"No." Bailey lowered her voice. "My dad."
"What?" Meg straightened with a snap.
"I was reading my spam last night and I got an email from that classmates site and signed up as my mom and then I found her yearbook."
Just under Meg's skin, in the middle of her gut, there was the faintest crawl of envy. "You found him."
"No, not yet. But I found her class. I'm going to find him, Meg. I'm going to find my dad."
Meg shook her head. "Bailey, don't get your hopes up."
Bailey turned to watch the houses go by. One minute, then, two. "I thought you'd be happy."
"I don't want you hurt, Bay."
She turned, blue eyes arctic. "Megan, how could it possibly hurt me to find my father?"
"There's a reason your mom doesn't talk about him, Bailey. What if finding him makes you lose her?"
Bailey returned to watching scenery. "I honestly don't think she'd mind all that much. She's got John now."
Meg sighed. "After school, come over. We'll look together."
Bailey turned, smiled for a second. "Thanks. I'm kinda scared."
"Scared." That stunned Meg. "Why? I thought you wanted this."
"I do. But I'm still scared... I mean — what if he hates me, or already has kids and doesn't want me?"
Friendship demanded Meg lie. Her personal code of ethics insisted on the truth. "Um. Okay. Look. You're smart to be scared. You don't know why Nicole kept you apart all these years. Maybe he's married with a minivan and soccer practices and golf buddies or whatever. But I do know this — it's not possible for anyone to meet you and hate you, Bay. It's just not."
Bailey's lips quivered and she laid her head against Meg's arm. A few seconds later, she took her phone from her pocket, glanced at the screen and hid a smile.
"Who's that?"
But Bailey merely shook her head, tucked the phone back in her pocket, and stood up. Meg let her by, frowning after her as they left the bus, feeling Chase's eyes burning through her back.