Calmly, Carefully, Completely(38)

“What are we shopping for?” she asks. She looks up, her green eyes meeting mine. They’re wary, though.

“Condoms,” I say, deadpan. Her mouth falls open. I lean close to her face and whisper loudly, “I’m kidding.” I hold up my wrist, the hand that’s not holding hers, and say, “I need some kind of anti-inflammatory.”

“Oh,” she says as she begins to deflate. But then she grins and shakes her head.

“Something wrong?” I ask. I already know that she’s unsure how to respond to me. But I’m hoping I can shock her into just being herself. I want her to be just her. Not the her that was created by the trauma of her assault. I just want to see her.

She shakes her head and draws her lower lip between her teeth.

“You got to stop doing that, princess,” I say. “You’re killing me here.”

She tenses up. “Doing what?”

I reach out and touch her lower lip with the pad of my thumb. I halfway expect her to jerk back. Or clock me. But she does neither. She smiles and ducks her head, her hair falling in her face. I very slowly brush it back and tuck it behind her ear. She smiles shyly and looks everywhere but at me. “What kind of pain reliever do you want?” she asks. She starts to walk toward the aisle, but I don’t let her hand go. I would follow her just about anywhere right now, so I let her lead me in the right direction.

I flex my hand. “I doubt anything is going to make a difference.” It’ll be all better by tomorrow, but she’s already perusing the shelf, looking for the right one. I step up close to her and put an arm around her waist. She looks up at me, her cheeks growing rosy. “I love that I can do that to you,” I say quietly.

She nods and bites her lower lip again. “Me, too,” she says.

I let her go for a minute and walk over to the other aisle to catch my breath. Tic Tac seriously needs some breath mints. I have to figure out that boy’s name, too, because I can’t keep calling him Tic Tac in my head. I pick up some breath mints for the kid and walk back toward where I left Reagan. Only she’s not alone when I return.





Reagan



I want to go back to the quiet, quaking silence I had with Pete, but he’s one aisle over when Chase spots me poring over the pain relievers from the end of the aisle. He calls my name and starts in my direction.

“Reagan,” Chase says, like he didn’t just see me yesterday. “I was just thinking about you.”

He’s always full of platitudes. I can’t tell if he’s sincere or not, which is one of the things I don’t like about him. “Hi, Chase,” I croak out. I look left and right and don’t see Pete. “What’s up?”

“I was just about to call you. My dad got tickets for tomorrow night to the dance at the country club. Do you want to go with me?”

“She’s busy tomorrow,” someone calls from the end of the aisle. Pete comes toward us, his gait slow and ambling. His body is loose and relaxed, yet I know it’s not. Not really.

“Who’s he?” Chase asks.

Pete holds out his hand to shake. Chase looks at it like it’s dirty. Pete pulls his hand back and reaches for mine. I pull mine back and cross my arms beneath my breasts. “Chase, this is Pete.” I lean my head toward Chase. “Pete, this is Chase.”

“Nice to meet you,” Pete says.

“Chase and I go to school together,” I rush to say.

Pete smiles. “Lucky bastard,” he says.

Chase’s eyebrows draw together. He looks at me. “So, you’re busy tomorrow night?” he asks. He ignores Pete, which pisses me off. Pete’s been nothing but nice until now.