Reckless (15 page)

Without a word, Easy slid his hand behind her neck and leaned in to kiss her. His heart was thumping so wildly he thought maybe she could hear it, and he suddenly realized it
was
Jenny he wanted to See. And to kiss. Her little round shoulders looked practically edible.

“Wow,” Jenny whispered softly after they pulled apart. “What did I do to deserve that?”

Easy flopped down on her bed and stared up at her wide brown eyes that reminded him of the double-fudge brownies his mother would always make for his birthday or whenever he was sick. Jenny looked like she should be running barefoot down the beach, maybe throwing a Frisbee to Easy, a giant black Labrador retriever chasing along after them in the surf. Maybe part of the problem was that he was always having these fantasies—if he could just stay in the moment, maybe he’d be able to figure out what it was that he wanted.

“Just for being you.” Easy folded her pillow in half and placed it under his head, enjoying the orangy smell of the stuff she and Brett put in their hair.

“You’re in a good mood.” Jenny bounced down on the bed beside him.

“Yeah, well … it was kind of an adrenaline rush to sneak in like that.”
Not to mention seeing
you, Easy thought.

Her eyes widened. “You didn’t, like, parachute in or anything? Did you?”

“No.” Easy stroked Jenny’s bare arm, the tiny blond hairs almost invisible. “There are these tunnels. Under the campus.”

“Like … sewers?” Jenny asked, leaning away from him as if he smelled. Which he was pretty sure he didn’t.

“No, dummy.” Easy grabbed her arm and started planting kisses at her wrist and moving up to her elbow. “They built them in the old days, when students were too chickenshit to walk outside in the snow.” Jenny had gorgeous arms—they were tiny because she was tiny but not scrawny and malnourished like Callie’s.

“Really? Sort of like subway tunnels.” Jenny shivered a little—either from Easy’s touch or from being cold. “Did you see any rats?” Or from thinking about rats.

“No rats.” Just a
couple of jackasses,
he thought, remembering how he’d almost punched Heath. Easy was normally a complete pacifist, but Heath, with all his insinuations about Callie, had been even more obnoxious than usual.

Or maybe it was because … No, couldn’t be.

Jenny glanced down at Easy, her smile shy, her pearly white teeth peeking out from behind her ruby lips just a little. “It’s nice to have you here… . I spent like five hours finishing this annoying algebra problem set. If I have to factor one more trinomial, I might kill someone.”

Um, schoolwork. Right. Easy closed his eyes. “Yeah, well, I spent all day avoiding this fucking annoying history assignment Wilde gave me yesterday.” Friday morning, Mr. Wilde had sent him an email sharing his less-than-stellar grade on Thursday’s test. In fact, he’d flunked it, as predicted. But because Mr. Wilde was one of those stand-up kind of teachers, he’d offered Easy the chance to do a makeup writing assignment over the weekend. He was supposed to write a five-page fictional interview between a news reporter and General George Washington about why he would make an excellent first president of the new country. It was nice of Wilde to give him a second chance and all, but did he have to make it such a cheesy assignment? That was even worse than a regular old boring one.

He rubbed his hand over his eyes and thought of all the hours he had wasted with Alan playing Xbox—like, four. And he’d stayed up late last night working on a series of caricatures he was hoping to work into a big project for his portraiture class, which wasn’t actually due until the end of the semester. There were a billion other things he could have—should have—been doing.

“When’s it due?” Jenny asked sympathetically, touching one of the curls near Easy’s left ear.

“Monday.”

“Why’s he giving you so little time for it?” Jenny’s eyes widened. “Doesn’t he know you have other homework too?”

“Well …” Easy started. “It’s sort of a makeup assignment—I kind of failed this big test on Thursday.”

“Oh, no.” Jenny looked more upset than if
she
had failed the test, which was kind of sweet. “That sucks.”

“Whatever. I’ll just whip out some crap tomorrow night. I don’t really want to think about it.”

Jenny bit her lip, looking worried. “You didn’t have to sneak in tonight, you know. We could have seen each other some other time.”

Easy was a little hurt. “You didn’t want me to come?”

“No!” Jenny placed a small hand on Easy’s chest. He could almost feel its warmth through the peeling Chicago Cubs logo. He wondered if she liked going to baseball games—if she’d share a ballpark hot dog with him and not stress about how many calories were in it. “That’s not what I meant. I just … you know.” She shrugged. “You’re still on probation from the beginning of the year and everything. I don’t want you to get in any more trouble.”

Easy tried to smile, but he felt the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight. Even though Jenny wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t true or that he hadn’t already thought of, it just sounded sort of … irritating. Like his father had somehow enlisted his girlfriend to continue his good work, like he’d asked her to keep an eye out for him. Which, however well intentioned that might be, made him feel
smothered.

She didn’t want him to get into any more trouble, which was nice. But didn’t she ever take risks? What if someday Easy wanted to go, say, skydiving? It was something he had always dreamed about—flying through the air! Would Jenny try to talk him out of it or would she strap on a parachute and jump out of the plane holding his hand? He couldn’t help wondering if Callie would be up for it. She was a debutante and all and would probably worry about how her hair would look at fifteen thousand feet, but then again, she did have a wild (and some what self-destructive) streak.

“I appreciate that… .” But … how could he say this nicely? “You know, at dinner with my dad,” and Callie, he was careful
NOT
to add, “he just loved talking about all the things I do wrong. So, I sort of don’t want to think about it anymore.”

Jenny bit her lip. “He’s really that hard on you, huh?”

Easy felt himself melting. “Well, it’s not like he ever beat me or anything.” His mouth twisted into a smile. “So it could be worse. But really, let’s talk about something interesting.”

“All right.” Jenny grinned, and Easy realized he didn’t even know if she’d ever had braces. Or pets. Or imaginary friends. He wished there was a way to pause things—make everything in the world stop moving except for the two of them and just lie down together. And talk or not talk. Whatever. They just needed to get to know each other a little better. “So how did you guys get into the tunnels? If people don’t use them any-more, aren’t they, like, boarded up?”

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to reveal our secrets.” He stroked his chin like he was deeply conflicted about telling her any more. “But maybe I could be bribed.”

“Bribed?” Jenny wrinkled her nose, making the spray of little freckles dance. “I’m afraid I don’t have any money.”

“That’s not a problem.” Easy sat up and leaned on his elbow, looking up at her. “There are other ways.” As always, he was thinking too much. Maybe he was schizophrenic or something. He tried to ignore the feeling of unease in his stomach and just enjoy the moment. He was here, with Jenny, whose hair was falling into her face as she leaned in to touch her lips to his. He didn’t feel like talking anymore.

She pulled away a little quickly after the kiss, almost as if she knew something about it wasn’t right. “Why don’t I go down and get us a couple of drinks?” She stood up, tugging at the hem of her dress and sliding into a pair of red flip-flops.

“Uh, yeah.” Easy flopped back against her pillow and smiled weakly. “That sounds good.”

“Okay.” She gave him a searching look, and for a moment he wanted to pull her to him and tell her about dinner last night and let her know every single crazy thought that was running through his mind, knowing that she’d put him at ease. But he didn’t even know if he’d be able to vocalize them. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling himself; how could he talk about it? And so he just smiled, and Jenny smiled and left the room, and he closed his eyes and wondered if Callie’s pillow still smelled the same as he remembered.

Jenny started down the wide marble stairs toward Kara’s first-floor room, her red J.Crew flip-flops thwacking loudly against the bottoms of her feet. She was feeling a little dazed about what had just happened with Easy—not that she had any idea what had just happened. But for the first time since she’d met him, something just seemed to be off. Things were normal at first, but then, all of a sudden, it was like some how they weren’t speaking the same language or like every-thing she tried to say just ended up coming out all wrong. It made her nervous.

She was relieved to be out of the room. Maybe she just needed a beer. Jenny didn’t exactly like beer—did anyone?—but having one always helped her feel less awkward. And right now, she was positively craving one.

On the first floor, the music was playing at a reasonable volume, one that would not attract the attention of any teacher or other authority figure that happened to pass. Not like the notorious roof party. Apparently a responsible Owl learns from her mistakes. Sort of. She passed Brett’s closed door and heard some soft music playing. At least someone was getting some quality cuddle time!

Just as Jenny approached Kara’s doorway, a girl passed through the front hallway that Jenny knew for sure she had never seen before. Her short dark blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing a black underside—a look more at home on the sidewalks around Union Square than at Waverly Academy. She seemed older too, wearing a long dark skirt and a fitted leather jacket—uh-oh! Was she a new teacher? Some kind of grad student Marymount had hired to infiltrate the dorm? Jenny heard a flutter of activity and a rash of slammed doors—clearly others had spotted the stranger in their midstoo. Kara came rushing around the corner, eyes flashing. “Quick, in here.” She pulled Jenny into her room and slammed the door behind them.

“Who was that?” Kara asked, looking like she enjoyed the excitement. She’d changed into a white, romantic-looking silk blouse with an empire waist and a square neckline with a little trim of lace that managed to push her chest up and make her look like a Shakespearean heroine. The billowy sleeves were long and sheer, and Kara had paired them with a funky pair of tight black pants that hugged her thighs and flared out at the calves. Her scuffed Doc Martens peeked out from beneath. She still looked hot but way more comfortable than she had in the tight burnt-orange dress. This outfit was just so much more
her.

“I have no idea.” Jenny leaned against. Kara’s bookcase, which was stacked with books vertically and horizontally, the only messy part of the otherwise immaculate room. “She did look pretty young to be a teacher.”

“But why would someone just wander into a girls’ dorm?” Kara wondered as she crouched down and filled two plastic cups from the keg under her bed. “Maybe she’s just from a different dorm.”

Jenny smiled and ran her eyes over the books. It was nice to see so many—most of the girls used their bookshelves as shoe racks. It reminded her of the hours she’d spend at the Strand Bookstore in Greenwich Village, tilting her head to read the titles on the thousands of shelves of books until her neck hurt. She recognized the spines of a couple of her favorites—
Goodbye, Columbus,
by Philip Roth,
Slaughterhouse-Five,
by Kurt Vonnegut,
Pride and Prejudice,
before noticing two entire shelves of thin, colorful spines with small print. She pulled one out a little and saw that it was a vintage copy of an X-Men comic book from 1968. “Oh my God—are these all comics?”

“Yeah, I have sort of an obsession… .” Kara blushed. “I know it’s a total geek thing—I’m like the Comic Book Guy on the
Simpsons.”

“No!” Jenny protested, pulling out a copy of
Ghost World,
her all-time favorite graphic novel. She loved the seamless way art and words fit together. “I can’t believe you have this!”

There was a shuffling noise in the closet before the door suddenly burst open and Heath Ferro, a black chiffon scarf wrapped around his forehead like a sweatband, stepped out, holding an empty Waverly Owl mug and smelling like beer. His shaggy blond hair was in desperate need of a trim, and he looked a little dazed, as if he had just woken up. “Are you guys talking about comics?”

“Is that my scarf?” Kara lunged for it, but Heath darted away. He crouched down in front of her bookshelves and pulled out about twenty comics.

“Holy
shit.
You have the original X-Mens?” He glanced up at the girls, his green eyes lit up like he had just hit the mother lode. “I can’t believe you’re into comics!”

“Because I’m a
girl?”
Kara placed a hand on her hip and stuck out her chin defiantly. Jenny took a step backward. Kara could be kind of scary when she was pissed.

“Because you’re a
hot
girl!” Heath stood up and held out his right hand in an uncharacteristically polite manner. Jenny remembered that when she’d first met Heath, he’d been unable to look at anything other than her chest. Here he was, trying to be a gentleman? It was unprecedented. “We haven’t been properly introduced.”

Kara glanced at his hand as if he’d just told her he had the bird flu. “Even though you’re wearing my scarf on your head and were hiding in my closet. Funny.”

Heath was undeterred. In fact, Kara’s attitude just seemed to turn him on all the more. He draped his right arm on the top of the bookshelf as if that had been his plan all along. “I’m Heath.”

Kara’s look could have cut glass. “I know who you are.”

Heath continued to be oblivious while pretending to stretch and scratch his stomach so that he could lift up his T-shirt and show off his chiseled abs. “See, all the new girls have a way of tracking me down. I’m really one of the few guys worth knowing at Waverly, if you like real guys, that is.”