Cloud Walking (A Find You in the Dark novella) Page 4

  To say lunch didn't go well was an understatement. This Clay dude was a complete freak. I just did not get what Maggie saw in him. He was anti-social and could barely hold a conversation. Plus he gave off angry vibes like crazy.

  I didn't like him.

  Not at all.

  And I could tell Rachel was worried about what was unfolding in front of us as well.

  When Clay left the lunch table abruptly, I couldn't help myself. “What the fuck was that?” I knew I sounded like a dick. And I could tell by the way Maggie's jaw clenched that I had said the wrong thing. But that guy was a weirdo. And I didn't like the way Mags seemed to be twisting herself into knots over him.

  Rachel's hand squeezed my knee under the table in silent warning. But I couldn't help but wish she'd keep her hand there. It felt nice. Even under the circumstances.

  “Maybe he's just shy.” I knew Rachel was trying to placate the situation. Her fingers squeezed into my skin, obviously trying to communicate the message that I should shut the hell up and let her handle it. I wanted to do whatever Rachel asked of me if it meant keeping her hand on my leg. Too bad I was always bad at listening.

  The problem was Mags and I were too much alike. Most of the time, it was a source of mutual respect and camaraderie. Right now, it meant we were about to have an explosion.

  “Or a whack job. He has that whole school shooter thing going on, you know?” I said trying not to flinch as Rachel pinched the side of my knee with her fingers. So much for biting my tongue. Now I would have both of the girls pissed at me.

  To say Maggie got kind of mad would be like me saying that hell is kind of hot. She went off. Really. She let me have it. And I couldn't do much more than stare at her in shock. Maggie never lost her shit with me. Even when I deserved it. Sure, she could be cutting and to the point. It's what I loved about her. But she had never gone full on postal before.

  And it made me angry. Like, really, really angry. Because this was happening now over some guy who wasn't worth the gunk on the bottom of her shoe. My protective instincts were going into overdrive and I wanted to go smack the shit out of the punk for getting my friend wound up like that.

  No one messed with my girls.

  Ever.

  But Rachel instantly jumped into her role as mediator. She succeeded in calming Maggie down. But only enough so she could go track Clay “Unabomber” Reed down.

  Rachel sat down heavily beside me after Maggie had left. “Sorry if I was out of line,” I mumbled, feeling a little crappy for my part in the drama. Rachel sighed, her shoulders sagging a bit.

  I wanted to put my arm around her. Any other time I would have. Now I wasn't sure that was a smart thing to do. “Well, you need to tell Mags, not me,” she said succinctly. Rachel was right. I did owe Maggie an apology. I hated fighting with my girls. But it seemed like that was all that happened anymore.

  Before going to find Maggie, I turned to Rachel, ignoring the stirring in my gut as I watched her tuck a curl behind her ear. “What do you think of that guy? Really,” I asked her.

  Rachel met my eyes and I knew in that instant, that for whatever our issues, we were on the same page where Clayton Reed was concerned. “I don't know, Danny. But I've never seen Mags like this. It worries me. It's not like her to obsess over some boy. And to blow off cross-country? All she talks about is Clayton Reed. When have you ever known her to talk about a guy like this? I mean, I'd be happy for her if there wasn't something else going, you know? The way Clay acted today was really weird and then Maggie jumping all over us to defend his crappy attitude. I didn't like it. Not a bit,” Rachel let out in a rush.

  Without allowing myself time to think any more about it, I reached out and took her hand. Our fingers weaved together effortlessly. Her palm, pressed against mine perfectly. “We'll take care of her. We always take care of each other. And no one will ever mess with my girls while I'm around,” I said with confidence. Because I fucking meant it.

  Rachel smiled and my heart sputtered a bit. When did I become such a damn pansy? “I guess I'd better go find her. You know, so I can grovel.” I grinned, even though I was absolutely sure groveling was in my immediate future.

  Rachel squeezed my hand before dropping it. I couldn't help but be disappointed. She threw her trash onto her tray and stood up. I followed her to my feet. “Yeah, you'd best use some of my lip gloss, because your mouth will be chaffed from all the butt kissing you're about to do.” Rachel smirked.

  There was that feisty new Rachel again. Where the hell had she been hiding the last seventeen years? I watched the way Rachel's ass moved in her tight jeans and decided it was time to go get started on my butt kissing. Because if I stayed here any longer, watching the girl in front of me, I would be kissing something else entirely.

  Chapter Six

  ~Daniel~

  “Daniel. Stephen and I are going away for the weekend. I've left money on the counter.” My mom poked her head into my room and I had to curb the wise cracks that were on the tip of my tongue.

  I was getting used to weekends alone. Not that I minded. I'd rather not be subjected to the PDA monster that came courtesy of my once upon a time fantastic mother and her skeevy boyfriend. It was freaking gross the way they pawed at each other, not caring if I was in the room or not.

  As if on cue, Stephen appeared behind Mom, his hands slithering around her like an anaconda, his hands going in places that made me want to rip his arms off. I hated that guy. I hated my mom for being with that guy. I hated the fact that I had a front row seat as they touched and did things that a kid should NOT see his parent doing.

  My mom giggled like a girl half her age and I wanted to hurl. “Stephen,” she whispered as he kissed the side of her neck. Both seemed suddenly aware that they were in fact standing in the doorway to my room. Stephen stopped trying to molest the woman who had given me life and she stopped wiggling against him as though they were going to go at it at any moment.

  “Hi son,” Stephen said awkwardly, giving me a cheesy smile that just asked to be knocked off of his face by my more than ready fist. I wasn't his goddamned son. I had a dad. A great one. You know, the guy who had caught this jackass dick deep in his wife. Yep, I was going to throw up. Maybe I could projectile vomit, Exorcist style, all over the assholes in front of me.

  I grit my teeth, crunching them together almost painfully. “Hey,” I said shortly. I should tell Stephen to never call me son again. To remind him and my bitch of a mother of the guy they had both screwed over. The one who had supported his family for years without complaint. The man who did not deserve to lose his wife and his son to a flaming ass face that wore purple shirts and too much hair product.

  But I had played the petulant teenager card one too many times already. And all I had gotten for it was a pissed off mom and my truck taken away.

  My mom could give a shit that I was miserable living in Stephen's house while they ran around like they didn't have a care in the world. What had happened to the woman who made sure all of my favorite snacks were in the cupboard and would help me with my homework every night?

  Maybe I should make up flyers and stick them around town. Missing. Mom who gives a fuck.

  But it was useless. That person was a thing of the past. Now I was stuck with a woman who wore my mom's face but had changed every other thing about herself. My mom had always been comfortable in jeans. This mom never left the house without make-up an inch thick and had started dying her hair blonde, because Stephen liked it that way.

  Whatever. Just another dose of reality that I had to deal with. Nothing changed the fact that my life sucked.

  Without another word, my mom and Stephen closed the door. I could hear her laugh as they left. God knows what Stephen started doing once my door shut. I shuddered.

  My phone started to ring in my pocket. Pulling it out, I looked down and saw that it was Kylie. Great. Some more shit to add to the pile. I hadn't talked to Kylie in a week. She had remained pissed after I turned down her offer
to “hang out” last Friday. We hadn't ended up going to the movies, even after I had dumped on Rachel which pissed me off. She had insisted we needed to take a “break.” And for the first time I didn't fight it.

  Sure Kylie was gorgeous. Most guys at school wanted in her pants. If I was honest with myself, I'd admit most probably had been at some point. And truthfully, I had always gotten off on being the guy she couldn't get enough of. Every time we broke up, it was only a matter of time until she came back for more. Call it macho pride, but there was something dick twinging about it.

  But lately, I had found myself thinking less and less about Kylie Good. For once, my cock wasn't making all of the decisions...well at least where Kylie was concerned. And I didn't want to make up and get back together. Not this time.

  But old habits were hard to break and I found myself answering the phone, when I should be pushing the ignore button.

  “Hey, baby,” Kylie's girly voice cooed from the other end. Wow. When did her voice become so annoying? Did she always talk like a five year old? Or was I only now noticing it?

  “Hey Kylie,” I replied, flicking on the television. Finding a re-run of the Simpsons, I tried not to completely zone out on the conversation. But it was hard.

  “You going to Melissa's party tonight?” she asked. Of course, I was going to Melissa's party. When did I ever miss a party? What a stupid question. Why didn't she just come out and ask me to take her, since I knew that was the point of the phone call?

  “Yeah. I'm going. Why, you need a ride or something?” I asked and even I could hear the complete lack of interest in my voice. Obviously Kylie did too because her tone become decidedly more wheedling.

  “Danny. I want us to go together. I miss you, baby. Maybe afterward, you and me can go somewhere. Just the two of us. It's been too long.” She was trying really hard to be seductive. It was almost comical. The Daniel Lowe of a week ago would have jumped at the chance to get laid tonight. But not this Daniel Lowe. I was really over the whole thing.

  “I'm supposed to hang with Jake and the boys after the party,” I told her, my focus drifting back to the television. I could practically hear her grinding her teeth.

  Then she changed tactics. “Danny. Please. I really need to be with you tonight,” she pleaded. I turned off the television and tried to give her my attention. There was still a part of me that weakened where she was concerned, even if I didn't want her to be my girlfriend again. But that part wasn't as noticeable as it used to be.

  “Why, Kylie? Logan can't take you?” I asked shortly.

  Kylie sighed and I rolled my eyes.

  “You know you're the only one I want to be with. Come on...I hate it when we fight. Please go to the party with me,” she begged and I scratched the back of my neck in agitation. It was just a ride to the party. And I did care about the girl, even if she drove me nuts.

  And maybe this is what I needed to stop thinking about a particular other girl who I shouldn't be thinking about in that way, at all.

  And that was what made up my mind for me.

  Rachel.

  Why did everything keep circling back to her lately?

  “Sure, Kylie. That's fine. I'll pick you up at eight,” I conceded.

  “Great! I can't wait to see you Danny! I meant what I said, I've really missed you.” And there it was. That little glimpse at the vulnerable side of Kylie Good that no one else got to see. And that little glimpse was enough for me to lose my hesitation. I wasn't swearing my undying love. I wasn't jumping back into our intolerable relationship. I would just spend time with her and would try not to think about the girl I really wanted to be with.

  “Yeah,” I said, not agreeing or denying her statement. After that, I ended the phone call, not sure I had made the best decision.

  And then my phone rang again making my heart stop.

  Shit, it was Rachel.

  I answered it hesitantly. It felt weird talking to her so soon after making plans with Kylie. Even though it shouldn't. It's not like Rachel was my girlfriend. For all intents and purposes, Kylie had been my girlfriend. Even though she wasn't anymore, I had to add vehemently.

  That wasn't the point.

  The point was I shouldn't feel like I was cheating on Rachel by agreeing to go to Melissa's party with Kylie. It was insane. I was insane.

  “Hiya Rach,” I said, trying to go for neutral and unaffected and swearing that I was failing miserably.

  “Hey loser. We on for Melissa's tonight?” Rachel asked in a voice that wasn't babyish or annoying. Then I realized what she had asked me. Crap. Had we made plans to go to the party together? I wracked my brain but came up blank. Fuckety-fuck-fuck!

  “Uh...well, I...well...” I was stumbling all over my words like some low functioning moron with a brain defect. Open mouth, insert foot.

  “Daniel. Are you not going to pick me up for Melissa's party? Is that what I'm to take away from your monosyllabic mumbling?” Rachel asked tersely. Time to salvage. I needed to do it before she came through the phone and strangled me.

  “Of course Rach. I can pick you up and then we can go get Kylie.” I just decided to bite the bullet. I mean, she was going to be pissed no matter what, might as well make it now rather than later. There was an immediate silence. I wondered for a moment if she had hung up. Not that I would blame her.

  “Rach?” I asked into the dead air. Why did her anger make me want to run and hide? I had never been freaked out by it before. But now, the thought of her being pissed at me had me trembling in my sneakers. So much for smooth, lady's man, Daniel Lowe. I think he'd been kicked squarely in the proverbial nut sack and wouldn't be making a reappearance until I decided to grow some damn chest hair and grow up.

  “Just forget it. You have fun with Kylie,” Rachel spit out and then it was my turn to get pissed. Who the hell was she to give me a hard time about taking my ex-girlfriend to a party? I really didn't recall making plans with her. So, this time I really wasn't blowing her off. So what gives?!

  “No need to be a bi..witch about it, Rach. It's not like we had definite plans or anything,” I snapped, though I was glad I had stopped myself from making the colossal mistake of assigning her the “b” word. That would have brought on the apocalypse for sure. I was definitely playing for Team Dumbass this evening on all fronts.

  “You're right, Daniel. We didn't have plans. I guess I just wanted to hang out is all.” Her voice sounded sad, even as she tried to cover it up.

  “I'm sorry, Rach. Seriously...” I started but she cut me off.

  “Just forget it, Danny. I'm being silly. Of course you'd want to hang out with your girlfriend. I get it. Have fun and I'll see you there,” she backpedaled. I wish she wouldn't do that. It was as though she believed her thoughts and feelings were less important than everyone else's. I started to tell her that Kylie wasn't my girlfriend anymore, because needing to clarify that seemed really important just then, but I realized Rachel had already hung up.

  It was going to be a fantastic night. I could just feel it.

  Cue the sarcasm.

  Chapter Seven

  ~Rachel~

  Happy, happy drunk. That was me. And such a light weight too. One and half beers later and I was feeling the warm, fuzzy blanket of alcohol induced euphoria. I felt good. More than good. In fact, my earlier hurt feelings and overall need to kick Daniel Lowe's butt had subsided as I got my party on.

  Maggie and I had been at Melissa's bonfire for less than twenty minutes and I was beginning to relax. No signs of Daniel or Kylie. So far so good.

  I was nodding absentmindedly while Jeremiah and Lila tried to rope me into their latest fundraising efforts. I was half listening as they droned about a clothing drive for homeless tigers in Africa or something.

  My head bobbed to the music and I finished the last of my beer. Raymond Lewis stumbled by and shoved another Solo cup in my hand. “Here ya go!” he yelled enthusiastically as he pushed his way past me. I peered into the cup and shrugged. Looked oka
y. I took a drink and cringed. Yuck, warm beer.

  Okay, I was done with the philanthropic duo. I gave Lila and Jeremiah a polite smile and excused myself, looking for Maggie. Where the heck had she gone?

  Ah, I should have known. She was with Clay. They seemed to always find each other. Like magnets or flies to garbage...whatever. I chastised myself mentally for my immediate jump to the negative. I didn't even know Clayton Reed. All I did know was my best friend was bat poo crazy about him.

  I watched the two as I slowly headed toward them. And seeing them, standing close together, Clay's eyes on Maggie's down turned face, their bodies angled toward each other as though they couldn't resist the other's pull, I could admit it was sort of beautiful.