Fluorescence: The Complete Tetralogy Page 6

  He took his mother’s coat and his own and I showed him where to hang them. My neighbor—Mom’s friend, Kim—came in to greet Brian’s mom. They walked off toward the kitchen together.

  “Hi,” Brian said, not looking me in the eye.

  “Hi.” I handed him a hanger.

  “It was really nice of your mom to invite us. I’ve never been to a family dinner before.”

  “It’s no big deal.” I shuffled a foot in place. “Mom said she’d like to get to know you better.”

  “And now she has good reason,” he said with a smirk, his eyes meeting mine as he reached up to stroke his thumb across my chin.

  My knees tingled. The rapid pitter-patter of my heart made me breathless. I thought it might burst.

  The floor rumbled and something scurried past.

  A stout, bushy-haired little girl stopped in front of the coat closet doorway and lifted her arms up over her head, stomping back and forth like a sumo wrestler. “Blargh!” Two-year-old cousin Sandy pushed up the tip of her nose with a finger and stuck out her tongue at us. “You can’t catch me!” She darted off like a jack rabbit.

  “Give me a sec, Brian.”

  He shrugged.

  I crept into the living room like a sleek hunter and listened carefully. Then I heard a snicker.

  “Gotcha!” I scooped up a flailing monster-child from behind the couch. Kicking and screaming and giggling so hard she made boogery nose bubbles. I grimaced.

  “Ow!” I felt the pinch of her teeth sinking into my forearm and dropped her back onto her feet. “Why, you!” I scoffed.

  She scampered off into the next room before I could scold her.

  “I take it you like kids?” Brian came wandering into the living room, amused.

  “Not really,” I replied, scrubbing kid-spit off my arm with the hem of my shirt. “That was my cousin Sandy, by the way.”

  He glanced at the tiny crescent of indentations in my arm and his forehead wrinkled.

  “Alice!” Mom yelled from the kitchen in her “I urgently need you to grab me a can of ____ from the basement” tone.

  “I’m so sorry!” I grinned, embarrassed by all of the interruptions. “Feel free to make yourself at home. There are cookies on the table in the dining room. I’ll show you around when I get back.” I rushed off to the kitchen.

  A can of cranberry sauce, a roll of paper towels and a glass of sparkling cider later, and I’d finally been set free.

  “Sorry about that, Brian.”

  He was standing in the living room, right where I had left him.

  “Interesting,” he said, drawing out the word while staring up at a bent-up metalwork star perched on top of our tree.

  “My great grandpa made it back in the 20’s when he worked as a metal smith. It’s gotten a little beaten up over the years but it’s not Christmas without it.”

  Brian—a good six inches taller than me—reached an arm up just high enough to trace over one of the metal points. “I think it’s cool,” he said with a nod. “It adds character.”

  “Thanks.” And to think, I’d had to get onto a stepping stool to put it there.

  “Not to be rude, but when’s dinner? All of these smells are making my stomach want to eat itself.”

  “In a few hours. We’re waiting on Sam.”

  “Are her parents not coming?”

  “They can’t make it. Some sort of work function going on that they had to go to. Rub noses with the big wigs, you know?” I chuckled, nervously. “They’re going to drop off Sam soon.”

  “That kind of sucks,” he replied.

  “Yeah, but that’s the way it’s always been with them.” They never made it to any of our parties. Honestly, I was glad her parents didn’t come. Mom might feel out of place. Sam’s parents were so uptight—not the kind of people to have a good laugh over dinner with. Their personalities differed so much, you’d almost suspect Sam had been adopted.

  “She’ll text me when she’s on her way,” I added. “Should be soon. Come on, let me introduce you to my uncle. Oh, and I saw your mom in the kitchen with my Aunt Stephanie. They really seemed to be hitting it off.”

  “Well, that’s cool. Uh… where’d you say those cookies were again?”

  “I’ll show you.” I walked with him down the hallway and into the dining room. We had a long, old-fashioned wood table with eight ornate chairs and a few metal pull-out chairs propped up against the wall behind it.

  “Aw, now I wanna color.” Brian spotted the bright blue fold-out kids table covered in coloring book pages, crayons and markers.

  His comment made me laugh pretty hard.

  We always had a separate table for the kids since they preferred to doodle and do their own things. Kevin had graduated to the “big table” this year. It was only Sandy by herself now, and she seemed perfectly fine with that. I worried about her eating all of the crayons, though.

  “Here.” I turned and presented to Brian a big plate of freshly baked cookies. “Chocolate chip. Oatmeal. Double dark chocolate. And, everyone’s favorite, decorated sugar cookie stars.”

  He lifted his hand to take one and paused, letting it hover a moment as he contemplated his choice.

  “You can have seconds,” I said.

  With that, he snatched a chocolate chip cookie from the edge and thanked me.

  One bite in and he closed his eyes and sighed, a warm, content smile stretching across his lips.

  “Mmmm. Oh, God. These are delicious,” he said softly, savoring the taste.

  “Glad you like it. I helped make them.”

  “Even better.” He shoved the last piece of cookie into his mouth and raised an eyebrow. “I could eat them every day for the rest of my life.”

  Heat flushed through my cheeks.

  Chapter 11

  Big Uncle Teddy had fallen asleep on the couch, remote in hand, his hairy bare feet propped up on an ottoman, the TV tuned to a basketball game. Sandy, pretending to be a mole, had buried herself in a pile of clean blankets in the laundry room. I caught Kevin peeling back a piece of tape to peek at a Christmas present and shot him a dirty look. He scuttled back off to his puzzle after discovering a dress-up set meant for his sister.

  All of the girls were chatting in the kitchen, so I excused myself to show Brian around the rest of the house. Oddly enough, I hadn’t heard from Sam yet. She always looked forward to the Christmas party and had been raving about it since last year.

  “You need to call Sam?” Brian caught me checking my phone. Pretty obvious, I guess. I’d done it three times in the past fifteen minutes.

  “Yeah. I think I should. If you don’t mind.”

  “Go right ahead.” He sat down at the base of the carpeted staircase and folded his hands in his lap. “No rush.”

  I sent her a text.

  WHERE R U?

  Waited for a reply…

  Checked my signal.

  Five bars.

  I sent another.

  U OK?

  Another minute…

  “Anything?” Brian asked, looking at me through the handrails.

  I shook my head.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” he said. “Her parents would have called you if something had happened. Right?”

  He had a point.

  “Yeah. I guess so. It’s just weird.” I shrugged it off for the moment and took Brian upstairs to my room.

  I flipped the light switch and the shadows came to life with color. I turned my desk lamp on to make it brighter. I liked keeping it dim, though. My teenage girl version of a man cave.

  “You really like purple, don’t you?” Brian said with a tilt of his head, fixating on my purple writing desk. A matching upholstered purple chair had been pushed up to it.

  A flowery skin on my laptop’s lid. A string of purple Christmas lights permanently affixed around the perimeter of my ceiling. It occurred to me how girly my room looked.

  �
��Yeah. Apparently.” I chuckled, feeling really stupid about it all. I was fourteen, not six. He probably thought I…

  “It’s pretty,” he said with a nod. “Very… calming.”

  “You think?” I bit my lip to stifle a sigh of relief.

  “Yeah. It’s different. Creative. My mom would never let me do something like this to my room. I start adding some color or get too artistic and suddenly I’m turning gay.” He heaved a sigh and shook his head.

  “That’s terrible! What does being creative have to do with someone’s orientation anyway?” I couldn’t believe a mother would say that kind of thing. Brian was an amazing artist.

  And that kiss… definitely not gay. I nibbled my lip, reminiscing.

  “I’m sorry, Brian. Your mom really shouldn’t judge you for something like that.”

  “I know.” He pressed his lips together.

  “Oh! Before I forget.” I slid open a desk drawer, pulled out a flat, wrapped gift, and handed it to Brian.

  “What’s this?” he asked, looking unsure. “I wasn’t expecting anything. I didn’t get anything for you. I—”

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry about. It’s something little. I… hope you like it.”

  “I feel bad now.” He hesitantly took the present and then spent a moment admiring the wrapping paper and shiny silver bow I’d stuck in the upper corner.

  “Don’t feel bad.” I smiled, sitting on the edge of my desk. It seemed like he didn’t want to open it. “Please. Go ahead.”

  He turned over the present and started carefully tearing the paper along the seam.

  “Seriously?” His eyes widened.

  He unlatched the buckle and flipped open the leather journal.

  I couldn’t tell if he liked it or not.

  “This is amazing!” He fanned through the pages, closed the book and latched it shut. He took a big sniff of the cover and grinned. “Suede. Wow! Thank you, Alice. Though I kind of feel like a jerk for not thinking to get you anything.”

  “I’m not upset.” I stood up from the desk. “Besides, being able to spend today with you makes me happy. You do like it, right?”

  He set the journal down on my desk, letting his fingers drag over the cover before letting up.

  “Yeah. It’s one of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever gotten,” he said, licking his lips. “And you know, I’m really glad you’re with me, too.” A subtle reminder I had agreed to be his girlfriend. “I’ve been thinking about you ever since the day I left the hospital. Since we ‘talked’ on the porch.” He cracked a smile.

  “Me, too,” I said beneath my breath.

  He stepped closer and I stepped back.

  “Tell me you feel it, too,” he said.

  It was dead quiet besides the soft whirring from the fan on my laptop. “Feel… what?”

  He reached up to take a lock of my hair between his fingers.

  “That tightening in your gut. Anxious nerves that won’t settle. You try to fight it—tell it to go away, but it won’t.”

  I did.

  He released my hair.

  “Your pulse racing,” he continued. “What you felt when we were downstairs by the coat closet earlier.” His thumb caressed my chin again.

  Yes.

  Lightheadedness. Knots in my stomach. The same whirlwind of emotions I had felt at the dance. A restless drive to be closer…

  “Aren’t we moving a little fast?” I shuddered, bumping into the wall behind me.

  “Do you want to slow down?” he asked, his eyes glinting with anticipation.

  I should have lied, but I couldn’t. Excitement coursed through me, electric. Free.

  My conscience warned me not to let go, but…

  “I asked you a question, Alice.” His voice softened and he pinned me against the wall beside my desk. A bold move. It lit me on fire.

  “Brian?” I couldn’t hide my eager, fluttering breaths. His warm scent clouded my mind. I wanted him so much, my whole body trembled.

  One more step. His hazel eyes devouring me.

  His face lowered and I tasted his breath. A hint of chocolate.

  He brought his hands up to clasp my face and then kissed me.

  I tangled my fingers into his belt loops and tugged him closer so our bodies touched. The back of his hand dragged down the side of my neck, making my knees weaken. He lingered, teasing my lower lip with the tip of his tongue. A quiet groan escaped me. I pushed up off my heels and kissed him back, plunging my hands through waves of his soft hair. The smell of his skin. The tension. The need to keep him near. His heat against my own feverish body.

  “Alice,” he whispered, pressing his lips just behind my ear and again on the side of my neck. I shuddered. He grasped my shoulder and pressed gently. “Alice.”

  “Wh-what is it?” I opened my eyes and gasped.

  Fluorescent white-blue light tinted his left hand, glowing and spreading through his veins, skittering halfway up his arm, exactly as it had in my dream. He slid his fingers down my shoulder and watched as the green light beneath my skin chased the path of his touch, twinkling on contact and then fading away.

  “You have it, too?”

  His eyes narrowed and a wide, satisfied grin stretched across his lips.

  “You’re… you’re not afraid?” I asked, shaking.

  He slipped his other arm behind my waist. Our glows resonated in sync, two colors pulsing in harmony.

  “Why would I be afraid? What happened at the dance wasn’t the first time I’d almost died,” he said. “It probably won’t be the last. But whatever this is, it fixed my heart. You had the dream, too, you know. It’s pretty obvious we’re together for a reason, Alice.”

  He lifted my arm and pressed it back against the wall, dragging his glowing fingers up my wrist, circling my palm, and then taking my hand. The skin glimmered with soft turquoise light.

  “With you, I feel unstoppable.” He folded his fingers around mine. “As if there’s nothing to fear anymore.”

  “But, what if my mom…”

  “She won’t.” He leaned in and kissed me again.

  Chapter 12

  The doorbell rang and I pulled away from Brian. He stepped to the side so I could pass, but grasped my fingers, reluctant to let me go.

  “It’s probably Sam,” I said, clearing my throat. “Oh, geeze.” I took a deep breath and combed my fingers through my hair to smooth it down the back of my neck, trying to pull myself together quickly. My heart pounded in my chest. My palms were sweaty.

  “Can you keep her busy for a sec?” I asked Brian. “I need a minute.”

  “So do I.” He shrugged and looked away, sweeping a hand through his disheveled hair.

  Oops.

  I shook my head and left my room. I didn’t feel like spilling our new relationship status to Sam just yet. Not while my relatives were around.

  The doorbell rang again.

  Oh, Sam…

  I ran into the bathroom, brushed my hair and splashed cold water on my face. Deep pink colored my cheeks but faded fast. The green glow had disappeared. Thank God.

  By the time I’d popped back out, Sam stood in the living room, bent over, shaking one of the presents under the tree, her ear pressed to the side.

  “Sam?” I leaned on the railing.

  “Alice! Hi!” She looked up, dropped the present and jogged toward me.

  “Where were you? I was really worried, Sam.”

  “Oh yeah, about that.” She bit her lip. “Yeah. So I accidentally sorta kinda dropped my phone in the toilet.”

  “Ew!”

  “Well, it would have been fine, but the screen got cracked and water and stuff got in it.”

  “That’s gross.”

  “Yeah. Dad took me to the mall to get it replaced and then… well, you know. I had to get a new case, too. And, you know how that goes.”

  I knew very well “how that goes.” I’m pretty sure I know why
the dinosaurs went extinct. They were waiting for Sam to pick out a cell phone case.

  “Hey, Sam.” Brian came out of my room, looking as cool and collected as he had when he’d arrived. Boys had it so easy.

  “Brian?” Sam’s eyes widened and her lips pursed. “What the heck are you doing here?”

  “Well, you took soooooo long, Sam,” I joked.

  She shot me an angry glare, but then laughed it off.

  “Actually,” I went on, “Mom invited him and his mother since they are new in town.”

  “Oh. Really?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Okay then. I’ll believe that, for now.”

  Brian walked past, trying to play it cool by not looking me in the eye. I followed behind him and we met Sam in the living room.

  . . .

  Dinner couldn’t have gone better. My family really liked Brian, and that made me happy. I needed them to like him.

  Afterward, Brian joined me in the kitchen to help with the dishes. Mom didn’t appreciate guests doing dirty work, but he’d insisted—anything to spend another minute alone with me, I think.

  “Hand me the forks, please?” I gestured toward the pile of dishes on the other side of the sink. Mom always used her best dishes for this get-together, so we had to be careful.

  Brian chuckled, setting a stack of buttering knives in the sink water. “So, uh, your Uncle Teddy.” He reached for the forks. “Does he offer beer to everyone or am I just special?”

  “He’s been doing that for years.” I shook my head. “Uncle Teddy thinks we should all appreciate the wonderful nuances of beer the way he does.”

  “I thinks it tastes disgusting,” Brian said. “If that’s not weird to hear from a guy my age?”

  “No.” I hated the smell of the stuff anyway. One less thing to worry about and one more reason Mom could appreciate Brian.

  I twisted the faucet toward hot and turned it on high. At the same time, Brian passed a dessert plate in front of me and steaming water splashed off it. I yelped, dropping a coffee mug. It hit the countertop and tumbled toward the floor. I couldn’t grab it fast enough.