The Anatomical Shape of a Heart(55)

While she ran her errand—picking up some custom-size discounted blinds to replace the ones in our house that had fallen apart from old age—I made a rash decision that had nothing to do with Minnie or my new criminal standing. Maybe it was all the leftover adrenaline from the night before rotting my brain—I don’t know. But I pulled out my phone to email the lady at the wood-carving shop in Berkeley. Yes, I actually would like to meet with the guy who carved my artist’s mannequin, I wrote her. Why not? In a week, I’d be too busy getting ready for the art contest. Besides, if my dad thought he could start up a conversation with me on his terms, he could think again. I was going to track him down.

And while I polished off half an overstuffed carne asada Super Burrito with Mom, I got a speedy response from the shop in Berkeley: Could I come by at one the following afternoon? I texted Jack, and he said he’d gladly drive me.

“Sometimes I think you’re full of secrets,” Mom said wistfully, eyeing the leftover plastic cup of salsa verde on the table like she might ask for a to-go lid.

I balled up my napkin and stuffed it inside the cup so I wouldn’t have to eat it on eggs the next morning. “None of them are all that interesting,” I assured her.

The next day, Jack picked me up at eleven thirty in the morning. My whole body went haywire when I saw him in the doorway as I peered over my mom’s shoulder. Chills. Warmth in my chest. Jackhammering heartbeat. I practically swooned. Swooned! This couldn’t be good. Everything felt … intensified. Like, overnight. Magically. I quietly prayed he couldn’t tell.

Or Mom.

If I were going to his house, and his mom had just presented him with a hundred condoms, I think I’d rather jab a screwdriver in my ear than face her. But Jack greeted Mom like they were best friends.

“Prince Vincent,” she said before I could step around her. “Where are you two going on this fine foggy morning?”

His lie was smoother than smooth. “We’re heading over to the East Bay for lunch. I wanted to check out a record store.”

I’d pretty much told her same thing an hour before; how come it sounded so much more natural coming out of his mouth than mine? And Mom smiled at him like he was charm incarnate. “Just make sure she’s back in time for work,” she told him.

“I will. Don’t worry.”

“I’m taking my uniform with me,” I added with forced casualness, patting the red bag I normally carried back and forth to the anatomy lab. “My shift starts at four.”

This definitely mollified her. Because if I was going to work, I surely didn’t have time to get into trouble or pull any “shenanigans,” as she said when it was Heath doing something behind her back. Little did she know, I could cram a lot of shenanigans into a short span of time.

She watched us jog down the stairs. “Take care of my baby,” she called out. If she knew I was headed into enemy territory, she probably wouldn’t be so cheery.

But when she went back inside the house and we were safely out of her range, Jack reached for my hand, and I said, “I’ve missed you”—as if it had been a week, not a day, since I’d last seen him. And just like that, we fell on each other like rabid dogs, kissing against the passenger door of his car until someone passing by on the sidewalk made a rude comment.

“Yeah, maybe we will,” Jack called to the pedestrian’s back after she was too far away to hear him.

I smothered a laugh into his shoulder. He pretended to bite my ear and growled against my hair, which only made me laugh harder. I hugged him tighter and sighed into his neck.

“God, I’m crazy about you,” he whispered. “If you don’t stop me, I’ll be begging to see you every day, because I can’t stand being apart from you.”

“Oh, good. I thought it was only me.”

“Not just you,” he said, kissing the side of my head.

I clung to him for a moment and then pried myself away, clearing my throat.

“Right,” he said, blowing out a long breath. “Let’s get on the road before we get arrested for public indecency.”

“I believe that’s the least of our potential charges.”

“How does it feel to have aided a wanted felon?” he murmured as he unlocked the car door.

“Exhilarating,” I whispered back.

Maybe I was better at being bad than I thought.

The drive to Berkeley took only a half hour, and we rolled down our windows when the sun chased away gray skies over the Bay Bridge. Jack had gone back to the scene of our crime and shot a one-minute video of the escalator in action. I’d already seen a couple of videos posted online, but it was so much more exciting watching it on his phone.

“A spokesperson from BART said they’ll be closing it down for cleanup in a week,” he told me as Ghost’s motor rumbled through my seat. “I think that’s the longest one of them has ever stayed up. And it’s easy to clean metal. I’m betting foot traffic will wear the paint off the tops of the steps in a couple of days.”

“Has Jillian seen it?”

“Yeah,” he said, lips curving. “I showed her the video last night. She couldn’t stop smiling. We used to go the main city library across the street from that BART station, and Jillie always headed for that looping stair sculpture on the fifth floor. You know what I’m talking about?”