One Small Thing(53)
Without another word, Chase bends down and picks up a huge hunk of white-painted metal and lugs it toward the metal pile.
We work quietly until closing time.
“Can I give you a ride home?” I offer as we wash up.
Chase shakes his head no, drying his hands. “The mayor is coming to pick me up.”
“Do you call him that to his face? Hey, Mayor, what’s for dinner? Nice tie, Mayor. See you later, Mayor.” I wave my hand.
Chase smirks. “Nah, I call him Brian.”
“Did someone mention me?” A trim figure steps into the back room.
I recognize Mayor Stanton’s handsome, clean-shaven face from his campaign posters, but he’s much shorter in real life.
He holds his hand out to me. “I heard my name and, like any good politician, raced to see what was being said.”
“Sir,” Chase says formally.
He calls him Brian, my ass. I shake Mayor Stanton’s hand firmly. “Only good things.”
“You’re my favorite kind of voter.” Chase’s stepdad smiles and it feels genuine—not a show he’s putting on in front of the public. “So you must be Chase’s friend Katie?”
Oh God. I shoot Chase a wild glance. I’d forgotten I’d lied to his mother about my name.
“She goes by Beth now,” Chase jumps in. “She used to go by Katie when she was younger but felt it was too cutesy, so she prefers to be called Beth.”
That sounded so dumb. Is that what my friends think when I keep insisting they stop using Lizzie?
“Well, Beth it is. Although I think Katie is a lovely name. Are you visiting any colleges these days? Chase’s mom and I have been begging him to apply to some schools in Arizona so we have somewhere warm to visit.”
“I wish, but no, my parents want me to go to Darling College.”
Mayor Stanton’s a smooth politician, but even he can’t completely hide his surprise over this. “Well, Darling has some good classes, which I’m sure will help you get a head start on whatever it is you want to do. You ready, Chase?”
“Yup. See ya later, Beth.”
“Bye.” I watch him go, noticing the way his dark blond hair shines gold under the rosy tones of the sunset. How ironic that Chase’s parents want him to get away, but he’s determined to stay here and beat himself up every day, whereas I can’t wait to escape the stranglehold of my parents.
But Chase feels like he can’t start over or, at least, doesn’t deserve to. And for me, no matter how many times I tell people I’m Beth, I’m still going to be Lizzie to them. No matter where Chase goes, he’ll always have a record. It’s a juvenile record and it’s sealed, but it’s there.
Those truths float around inside me and sink like rocks thrown into a pond. Chase’s light gait has disappeared, replaced by a heavier one, as if an invisible weight is bearing down on him. Only, it’s not invisible. It’s me. I’m the weight. I’m the flesh-and-bone manifestation of his guilt.
Even if I were okay with the past, I don’t think Chase will ever be.
21
“You’re in a good mood today,” Scarlett says as we hit our lockers before Calc class.
“Am I?” I glance at myself in the mirror. I don’t look any different than I did yesterday. I pinch my cheek. “I put some lip gloss on this morning.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m pretty sure it’s not the lip gloss. Come on, spill. Why are you all smiley?”
I turn toward her. “I signed a contract thing with my parents that says I promise to be a good girl and in exchange I get some of my privileges back,” I confess.
Scar’s eyes widen. “Holy shit. Is that why your mom invited us to lunch this weekend?”
“I think so. And they gave me back my phone, car and door.”
She snickers. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone say they’re getting their door back.”
“I know, right?”
She checks her reflection in the mirror, dabbing at the corner of her mouth to fix her lipstick. “Is it, like, a legal contract?”
I snort. “Um, doubtful. If they go back on their word, I don’t think Judge Judy is going to order them to fulfill the terms or pay some fine.”
“Imagine you took it to court,” Scar says, starting to laugh. “That would be both badass and insane.” Before I can blink, she throws her arms around my neck. “But whatever, I’m so happy for you! I’m glad they’re not being total tools anymore.”
“God, me, too.”
A commotion at the end of the hall breaks up our hug. We both turn to see Troy and his pals circling Chase.
My shoulders tense. Why can’t those assholes just leave Chase alone? He’s as tall and built as any of the football guys, but everyone knows Chase won’t fight back if they knock him around. He can’t afford to get in trouble at school, and he tries hard not to draw attention to himself.
“Want to come to the game on Friday?” Scarlett chirps, shifting her gaze away from the group of guys.
I glare at the football players. “No.” I’d rather poke my eyeballs out than cheer for those bullies.
Across the hall, Chase keeps a steady forward movement, not looking to the right or the left. How he maintains that bubble, I will never know.