He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, brushing away the tears as he sat quietly, savoring the silence. Seeing her name, something tangible to remind him she had been real, soothed his frazzled nerves, and for the moment, he almost felt at peace.
After a few minutes, he stood and brushed the grass off of his pants. “I won’t stay gone so long next time. I love you.”
He walked away, heading across the cemetery to his car. The tears came to a stop, his heart growing numb on the drive back to Chicago.
By the time he crossed into the city limits, he felt cold again.
32
Haven stood in the doorway to the bedroom, quietly watching Carmine as he did his homework. He sat at his desk with his head in the palm of his left hand, staring intently at a laptop. He hadn’t sensed her presence, or if he did, he chose not to acknowledge her.
Carmine groaned. “What does the Greek alphabet have to do with math?”
She blurted out the answer. “Pi?”
He jumped at the sound of her voice and swung around. “Did you just ask if I wanted pie?”
“No, Pi is a part of the Greek alphabet, and it’s also a math, uh, thingy.”
He stared at her for a moment before what she said registered. “Well, thank Alex Trebek for that. You could probably do my damn work and save me a lot of aggravation, you know.”
She blushed. “But if I did it, how would you learn?”
“I don’t see myself ever needing to know this shit,” he said, shaking his head. “Anyway, is there something you needed?”
“I’m supposed to go to Dia’s, remember?”
She wasn’t sure how he’d forgotten, since it was his idea in the first place. “Oh, yeah, right.” He grabbed his keys off his desk. She expected him to stand so they could leave, but instead he held them out to her.
She stared at the keys. “Aren’t you going to drive me?”
“You know how to drive,” he said, jingling them. “I don’t have time to play taxi, tesoro. I have a ton of homework to get done and errands to run.”
Her brow furrowed. “How will you run errands if you don’t have your car?”
“I’m going with Dom,” he said. “You remember how to get to Dia’s, right? It’s a straight shot. I dropped you off there when you got your dress.”
“Uh, yes, but . . .”
“And stop by the store on your way home and grab some Coke for me, will you? It’s just the next street over. There should be some cash in the glove box.”
She gaped at him. “But . . . your car. I can’t drive it.”
He sighed exasperatedly. “Why not?”
“Because I’ve only ever driven Dr. DeMarco’s, and that’s when you were with me.”
“Mine drives like his does. And if it makes it easier, pretend I’m in the passenger seat. Just curse a few times. It’ll feel like I’m there.”
He turned around, subject closed.
It was the middle of May, and today was Durante High School’s prom. Three weeks before Carmine had sprung it on her, casually telling her she needed to pick out a dress. Dia offered to take her shopping a few days later, and Haven got a blue one with dark golden trim.
The past few weeks had been a confusing time for Haven. There were highs and lows, the changes sometimes so abrupt that it was impossible to brace for it. The anticipation and excitement was always there, brewing underneath the surface, but there was also fear—a fear of the unknown, a fear of the plunges.
It wasn’t always bad. Carmine lost his temper quite a bit, but there were also moments, such as that one in his bedroom, when he did something uncharacteristic of the boy she’d come to know. He was protective of his car, yet he had handed her the keys without a thought even though she didn’t have a license.
The Harper family lived in a one-story tan house in the center of town, modest but big enough for the four of them. Dia and Tess shared a bedroom, the close quarters often reason for their sisterly bickering. Haven saw proof of it as soon as she arrived, a piece of duct tape on the carpet running straight down the center of the room, cutting it in half. The left was clean and decorated with shades of pink and posters of movie stars, while the right half was in disarray, hundreds of photographs covering the wall.
“Have a seat,” Dia said, motioning toward a chair in front of a desk. Haven sat on the edge of it and glanced around at the mess, fighting off the urge to clean for her. “So, are you excited?”
“Of course I am,” Haven said, although her anxiety overshadowed her excitement.
Dia eyed Haven peculiarly as she fiddled with her hair, running her fingers through the wild locks. “Nervous, huh? Your answer sounded way too rehearsed.”
“I am excited,” she said. “I’ve just never been to a dance before.”
“Me, either,” Dia said. “The only reason I’m going to this one is because I have to cover it for the yearbook. Otherwise, I’d stay home.”
“You don’t have a date?”
She shook her head. “The administration would have an aneurysm if I brought someone.”
“Why?”
Dia looked at her with surprise. “Not everyone is accepting.”
“Why wouldn’t they accept you?”
“I’m not into boys,” Dia said, treading carefully with her words. “No one’s told you that?”
“Well, Carmine said he didn’t have the right equipment for you.” Haven turned bright red when what he’d meant sank in. “Oh, he means—”
“No dick for Dia!”
Haven glanced at the doorway as the voice interrupted. Tess strolled into the room, tossing a garment bag on her bed and unzipping it to expose a bloodred dress.
Dia rolled her eyes. “Classy.”
“I’m just speaking the truth,” Tess said, pulling off her shirt. Haven gaped at her as she stripped out of her clothes. Tess noticed her expression and laughed, standing in front of her in a bra and panties. “I’m not ashamed.”
Dia laughed. “She’s not modest, either.”
Tess shrugged, not arguing against that. She shimmied into her dress before grabbing a pair of high heels from the closet and slipping them on. Strolling over to her dresser, she gazed at her reflection in the vanity mirror and smoothed her hair before applying some red lipstick. She did it so casually, so quickly, so fluidly. Haven watched with admiration.
Dia continued to play around with her hair, yanking and tugging it every which way, but Haven had no idea what she was trying to do. The same thought ran through Tess’s mind because she turned around, groaning. “Dia, what are you doing to the poor girl’s head?”
“I’m trying to French braid it.”
“French braid? What is she, twelve?”
Tess grabbed a flat iron and bumped her sister out of the way as she plugged it in. Shrugging, Dia plopped down on the bed as Tess undid the sloppy braid. Once the flat iron was warm, she straightened Haven’s hair, smoothing the waves that had never before been so tame. Tess pulled the top half back, securing it with a clip, before unplugging the flat iron and going back to her side of the room.
Dia showed Haven to the bathroom to put on her dress. Haven slipped into it and glanced in the mirror, not recognizing the girl staring back. Her hair was bone straight and shiny under the glow of the light. The dress hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her newfound curves.
Curves. She pinched her hips with awe, wondering where they had come from and how she hadn’t noticed them before.
She headed to the bedroom, pausing near the doorway. Tess gazed in her mirror again, applying another coat of lipstick, while Dia slipped on a pair of black combat boots.
“Don’t you have to get dressed?” Haven asked Dia as she dropped a pair of gold flats in front of her.
“I am dressed.”
Haven put on the shoes as she surveyed Dia’s clothes. She had on a black skirt and a vibrant blue tank top with rainbow-striped tights. “You are?”
“She is,” Tess said. “To Dia, that’s dressed up.”
The hairs on the back of Haven’s neck stood on end the moment she stepped into the grocery store alone, the feeling of being watched overwhelming. Self-consciously, she put her head down and walked swiftly to the soda aisle. Bending down to grab a twelve-pack of Coke, her skin prickled as a presence approached.
“What do you call cheese that doesn’t belong to you?”
“I’m not sure, Nicholas.” She picked up the soda and turned to face him, stunned to see him wearing a black suit. It was the first time she had seen him without his flip-flops and baseball cap.
“Nacho cheese.” He grinned. “Get it, nacho, not yo’? Not yo’ cheese, since it isn’t yours?”
The moment it clicked, she shook her head. “That’s cheesy.”
He laughed at her attempt at humor. “Funny. My kind of girl.”
She blushed. “Thank you. I see you’re dressed up.”
“Of course I am. It’s prom.”
“You’re going to the dance? You don’t go to school here, do you?”
“Neither do you.”
“But I have someone to go with.”
He sighed dramatically. “Yeah, well, so do I. I may not be a pretty boy like Carmine, but I can still pull my fair share of ladies. Speaking of your boyfriend . . .”
“Don’t start.”
He held his hands up defensively. “Hey, I was just going to say I’m surprised he’s letting you in public by yourself.”
“Why wouldn’t he? I can go to a store alone.”
“Can you?” The seriousness to his voice sent her nerves flaring. Could she? Considering this was her first time doing it, she had a hard time answering yes.
“Sure,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest. He couldn’t know the truth. Carmine would have warned her.
“That’s nice,” he said. “You know, you have a fascinating accent.”
She was taken aback by the shift in conversation. “I have an accent? I think you do.”
He laughed. “I sound like everyone else around here, but I’ve never heard an accent like yours. Where did you grow up?”
“California.”
“What parts?”
She hesitated. “The desert.”
He nodded. “No wonder I’ve never heard it. You’re the first native Californian I’ve met. You were born there, right?”
She nodded, his line of questioning baffling her.
“Well, Haven, since I was wrong and you can go out by yourself, you should come visit me sometime.”
Her eyes narrowed at the invitation. “Why are you interested?”
“You seem like a nice girl,” he said. “There’s no harm in us being friends.”
“Do you want to be friends because you want to get to know me, or do you want to be friends because it’ll upset Carmine? Because I can’t be friends with someone who wants to hurt him.”