A Flicker in the Dark(49)
I glance at Aaron, and he nods knowingly. I wonder if he had a Lena, too. I imagine everyone has a Lena in their life at some point. A person who comes blazing in like a shooting star and fizzles out just as fast.
“She used me a little bit, and I knew it, but I didn’t even care,” I continue, tapping my fingers against my coffee cup. “She didn’t have the best home life, so our house was something of an escape for her. Besides, I think she had a crush on my brother.”
Aaron raises his eyebrows.
“Everyone had a crush on my brother,” I say, my lips twitching into a gentle smile, reminiscing. “He didn’t like her like that, but I think that’s the reason why she came around so much. I remember, there was this one time—”
I stop, catching myself before I go too far.
“Sorry,” I say. “You probably don’t care about that.”
“No, I do,” he says. “Go on.”
I exhale, push my fingers into my hair.
“There was this one time, that summer. Back before everything happened. Lena was at our house—she was always making excuses about why she needed to come to our house—and she convinced me to break into Cooper’s room. I didn’t really do stuff like that … you know, break the rules. But Lena had a way about her. She made you want to push the boundaries. Live your life without fear.”
I remember that afternoon so vividly—the warmth of the afternoon sun stinging my cheeks, the blades of grass pushing deep into my back, itching my neck. Lena and I lying in the backyard, making shapes out of the clouds.
“You know what would make this even better?” she had asked, her voice raspy. “Some weed.”
I rolled my head on its side so I was facing her direction. She was still staring into the clouds, her eyes focused, her teeth digging into the side of her lip. She held a lighter in one hand, absentmindedly flicking it on and off between her bitten-down fingernails, the other held above the flame, moving closer and closer until a little black circle appeared on her palm.
“I’m positive your brother has some.”
I watched an ant crawl slowly up her cheek, toward her eyebrow. I got the feeling that she knew it was there; that she could feel it, crawling closer. That she was testing it, testing herself. Waiting to see how long she could take it—just like that fire, searing her skin—how close it could get before she was forced to reach her hand up and brush it away.
“Coop?” I asked, tilting my head back. “No way. He doesn’t do drugs.”
Lena snorted, pushing herself up onto her elbow.
“Oh, Chloe. I love how naive you are. That’s the beauty of being a kid.”
“I’m not a kid,” I said, sitting up, too. “Besides, his room is locked.”
“Do you have a credit card?”
“No,” I said, embarrassed again. Did Lena have a credit card? I didn’t know any fifteen-year-olds with credit cards—Cooper definitely didn’t have one—but then again, Lena was different. “I have a library card.”
“Of course you do,” she said, pushing herself up from the grass. She held her hand out, her palms rippled with the indents from the blades, specks of soil stuck to the skin. I took it, damp with sweat, and stood up, too, watching as she picked the weeds from the backs of her thighs. “Let’s go. Honestly, I have to teach you everything.”
We walked inside, stopping by my room to grab the small purse that held my library card before crossing the hall to Cooper’s.
“See,” I said, jiggling the handle. “Locked.”
“Does he always lock his bedroom?”
“Ever since I found these gross magazines under his bed.”
“Cooper!” she said, raising her eyebrows. She looked more impressed than disgusted. “Naughty boy. Here, give me the card.”
I handed it over, watching as she stuck it through the crack.
“First, check the hinges,” she said, jostling the card. “If you can’t see them, it’s the right kind of lock. You need the slant of the latch to be facing towards you.”
“Okay,” I said, trying to fight down the panic that was rising in my throat.
“Next, insert the card at an angle. Once the corner is in, straighten it up. Like this.”
I watched, mesmerized as she pushed the card deeper and deeper into the opening, applying pressure to the door. The card started to bend, and I said a prayer that it wouldn’t break.
“How do you know how to do this?” I finally asked.
“Oh, you know,” she said, wiggling the card. “You get grounded so many times and you learn to let yourself out.”
“Your parents lock you inside your room?”
She ignored me, giving the card a few more good yanks until, finally, the door pushed open.
“Ta-da!”
She twirled around, a look of satisfaction on her face until I saw her expression slowly change. Mouth open, eyes wide. Then, a smile.
“Oh,” she said, placing her hand on a popped hip. “Hey, Coop.”
Aaron laughs now, polishing off his latte before placing the to-go cup on the ground by his feet.
“So he caught you?” he asks. “Before you even got inside?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “He was standing right behind me, watching the whole thing from the stairwell. I think he was just waiting to see if we could get in.”