From A To Z

Chapter 18

Arlo leaned back against the porch steps and propped his elbows on the deck. He stared ahead at the empty street, his eyes unfocused. I hugged my knees and toyed with my shoelaces. Something, possibly a bat, darted overhead. A snippet of a conversation living two doors down drifted over and flew away with the breeze.

The silence lingered on but I didn’t feel the need to fill the quiet. The nearness of him in the velvety dusk was more meaningful to me than anything I had to say.

I had never thought that the corny, sappy words in my mom’s magazines were true. That comfortable silence existed. That a special sense of connection sparkled in the rare moments untainted by chatter and purpose.

“How was it?” he asked finally, turning to me.
It took me a moment to catch on what he meant.
“The vigil? Scripted. Everything, from the speeches to the dress code.”

Arlo straightened up and his eyes skidded all the way down to the tips of my Converse. I felt my face heat up. Can he see I’m blushing, I wondered and the flush traveled further down my neck.

He pointed at my top.
“Is that why you’re wearing… What are you wearing actually?”
“This is a part of an old Halloween costume. Couldn’t find anything else that was yellow enough.”
“Burn it,” he blurted out and I froze. A sly grin pulled at his split lip. “Just kidding. Recycling old Halloween outfits is bold. I like it.”

We fell quiet again but now the silence we shared felt different. It was charged with electricity like the air before a storm. My eyes were alight. He had paid me a compliment. I glowed like a supernova.

Racking my brain for something flirtatious to say, I remembered with a pang of guilt that I had come to grill him about Sienna. I twisted a loose strand of hair around my finger so tightly, my fingertip turned white. Get a grip, Zoe! Fire away! Arlo knows more than he’s saying. But the questions burning on my lips were all about him.

What would it feel like to kiss him? Did he have a girlfriend back in Seattle? Did it matter that I was white?

“How did your dad take the news of your suspension?” was the best I came up with.
Arlo furrowed his brow, surprised by the question.
“He said he would have done the same. Hit back. So, I guess he took it in stride.”

“What about your mom?”
He sighed and returned to studying the street.
“She doesn’t know.”
But of course. The spartan interior, the lack of decorations. The house lacked a female touch.

“She didn’t move to Bruler with you?”
His jaw clenched.
“No, she couldn’t come.”
“But you’re in touch?”
“I wish.”

I scooted closer to him.
“When my parents split up and my dad first moved to Florida, he used to call me every weekend. He wanted to know everything. Then he started ringing every few weeks. Now it’s once in a blue moon. Last time I heard from him was on Christmas.”
“That sucks.”
“It does.”

His elbow brushed against mine. Skin on skin. I felt a jolt. Electricity crackled under my fingertips. I longed to touch him but didn’t dare to, afraid that if I did, sparks would fly.

“Any news from Sienna?” he asked casually, giving me a whiplash. 
I thought there was a connection but apparently it was all in my head. Embarrassed, I squeezed my trembling hands between my knees. 
“No news. I read that the longer it takes, the slimmer the chance she’ll wake up.”

“You really care about her.”
“She’s my best friend.” My voice quivered.
“But you’re so different.” 
“Oh yeah? How so?” 
She’s pretty, you’re plain. 
She’s special, you’re average.