Home > One Small Thing(22)

One Small Thing(22)
Author: Erin Watt

I’m going for a run, I jot on a new piece of paper, just in case one of my parents comes home earlier than scheduled. Be back soon.

This probably falls outside of my list of approved activities, but I’m not in prison, am I?

17

The mayor lives on a sprawling estate in Grove Heights, Darling’s richest neighborhood. The streets here are wide and lined with majestic oaks. All the driveways are set super far back from the road, and every house is considered a mansion. Jeff’s family lives only a couple of blocks away, so I make sure to avoid their street as I slow from a run to a jog.

I’m out of breath and red faced as I trot up the long, tree-lined drive. I thought I was in better shape than this, but I started feeling out of breath thirty minutes into my run. I make a mental note to use our treadmill more often.

The house has a pillared entrance and a huge wraparound porch. I’m nervous as I ring the bell, because what if Chase’s mom or the mayor answer the door? I don’t think either of them would recognize me as Rachel Jones’s little sister, but if I introduce myself with my real name, there’s a huge chance they’ll contact my parents.

My worst fear comes true when the door swings open to reveal a woman who can only be Chase’s mom. Her hair is the same shade of blond as his, and they have the exact same eyes, a dark, vivid blue.

“Hello there.” Her words are nice enough, but there’s wariness in her voice. She takes in my running gear and the disheveled hair that’s come loose from my ponytail.

“Hi. Um. Mrs. Donnelly?”

Her gaze instantly cools. “It’s Mrs. Stanton,” she corrects.

Right. Of course she took Mayor Stanton’s name after they got married. Already I’m off to a bad start.

“I’m...Katie,” I lie. “A friend of your son’s. I’m in his Music History class at school.”

Her eyebrows soar to her forehead.

I hurry on. “I lent him some, um, notes and he forgot to give them back to me earlier. So I came by to pick them up. Is he home?”

“Charlie?” she says.

Does she have another son I don’t know about? And why is she staring at me like my nose has grown two sizes? My face heats up, because obviously she knows I’m lying about who I am and why I’m here.

“Y-yes,” I stammer.

“You’re a friend of my son’s,” she says slowly. “From school.”

It takes me a second to realize that she’s amazed, not suspicious. Those blue eyes do a careful sweep of me from head to toe. She blinks a few times. It’s like she can’t believe there’s actually someone, on her porch, who wants to see Chase.

Without another word, she pivots and calls, “Charlie! You have a visitor!”

Footsteps sound from the interior of the house, and then Chase appears. When he spots me, he does a double take.

I see his surprised mouth forming my name. “B—”

But his mother, fortunately, cuts him off. “Your friend Katie is here to pick up some notes?”

A wry glint lights his eyes. “Katie,” he says, sounding resigned. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I answer. I shift from one foot to the other. “Um, yeah... I came by for those Music History notes I gave you.”

Another nod. “Yup. Got them in my room.”

“Come in,” Mrs. Stanton urges, and her tone is far more gracious than when she first opened the front door. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you. I won’t be long. Just gotta get...those notes,” I say lamely.

“This way,” Chase mutters, gesturing for me to follow him.

“Are you sure I can’t bring you down any snacks?” his mother calls after us.

“We’re fine, Mom.”

I wince at his sharp tone. I kinda feel bad for his mom. From the way he described her in the library earlier—the excuses she made to her wedding guests about her son’s whereabouts—he made her sound a bit crappy. But she seems decent. Yes, she was cold at first, but once she realized I was a friend of Chase’s, she instantly warmed up. She was so...eager for him to have a friend.

I give Mrs. Stanton a grateful smile and wave but keep following Chase. I’m startled when he bypasses the spiral staircase in the foyer and walks right past it. I thought he said we were going to his room.

Instead, we walk down the hallway, past the kitchen and a gorgeous sunroom that overlooks a massive property in the back. We turn, pass a laundry room and then reach a door that Chase quickly opens.

“Down here,” he says.

I follow him downstairs to what I deduce is the basement. His big shoulders are set in a tight, tense line, and his steps are brisk. Is he pissed off? I’m starting to think he is, and my pulse quickens. Maybe coming here was a bad idea.

The air becomes musty when we reach the bottom of the stairs. I expected a finished basement, those awesome ones that have game rooms and soft carpeting and maybe even a fireplace.

Instead, I find cinder-block walls and scuffed laminate floors. And it’s freezing down here. I shiver in my shorts and T-shirt as I follow Chase deeper into the huge space.

His bedroom is off to the left, down another corridor. When we walk in, I’m appalled. He has a bed and a desk and that’s it. Like, that’s it.

“This is your room?” I exclaim before I can stop myself. “There’s hardly any furniture.”

He glances over. “There’s a bed. What else do I need?”

“Does your stepdad make you sleep down here?” It’s like I stumbled into a bad fairy tale.

“That’s quite the imagination.” He rolls his eyes. “I picked it out. I like this place.”

Liar. He likes the open air and lots of space. He told me that first night that he’d rather sit out in the pouring rain than be inside. I stare at the barren white walls, then the stack of books on the desk. Does he just sit in this empty, lonely room every night and read? There’s no TV, no gaming systems. He has a phone, though. Maybe he plays games on that? All I know is that I expected Chase to be living it up in the land of luxury over at Mayor Stanton’s house, and instead he’s like Cinderella, banished to the basement where he probably has to scrub the floors.

When I shift my gaze from the desk to Chase, I find him scowling at me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

I gulp. “I...”

“Seriously,” he says flatly. “Why are you here, Katie?”

I blush. “Sorry about that. I just thought it would be better if she didn’t know who I was.”

He gives a quick nod. “I agree. But that doesn’t answer the question.”

I inhale deeply, ordering myself to be brave. “I came to apologize for what I did earlier. When Scarlett found us in the library, I mean.”

Chase shrugs. “No apology necessary. I didn’t care at the time and I don’t care now.”

He’s lying. He has to be. Because I know that if I spent my entire lunch period comforting someone, and then they turned around and shunned me, I’d be devastated.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat, firmer this time.

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“Oh my God, Chase. Will you please accept my apology?” I growl. “I ran all the fucking way across fucking town to give this fucking apology.”

He bursts out laughing.

Then his mouth slams closed, and a startled silence crashes over the room. He looks like he can’t believe he laughed in my presence. Truthfully, I can’t believe he laughed in my presence.

I sink onto the edge of his bed and play with the sleeve of my T-shirt. “Why is it always so awkward between us?”

That gets me another laugh, this one more of an incredulous bark. “Why do you think?”

I sigh. “I know why, Chase. I just mean...the night we met, it wasn’t awkward at all.”

“We had sex,” he says bluntly. “That’s pretty awkward.”

“It wasn’t for us,” I argue. “But my friend Macy said her first time was the most embarrassing thing on the planet. And my other friend had weird, uncomfortable moments in bed with her boyfriend all the time.”

With me and Chase, it wasn’t like that at all, not even when he undressed me. I’d never been naked in front of a boy before. I should’ve been mortified. But I wasn’t. Yes, I was nervous. Yes, my heart was beating so fast I thought it would explode in my chest. But when Chase’s strong hands gripped my hips and his warm lips covered mine, discomfort was the last thing I was feeling.

“I don’t know why it wasn’t awkward that night, then,” he says, leaning against his desk. “But I can tell you why it is now. You shouldn’t be here, Beth.”

“Your mom didn’t seem to mind.”

“My mom is probably upstairs crying with joy that her ex-con son has a girlfriend.”

My gaze flies to his. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

“No shit. But she probably thinks you are. And perfect timing, too.” Sarcasm creeps into his tone. “At dinner last night, Mayor Brian warned me it might be tough to meet women because I’ve got a record.”

“He really said that?”

“Yeah. Mom pointed out that since I was sentenced as a minor, my record is sealed. But Brian said everyone knows who I am anyway, so it doesn’t matter if there’s an official record or not.” Chase’s eyes soften. “Mom got really upset by that. So, yeah, maybe it’s a good thing you stopped by, actually.”

I offer a dry smile. “Glad I could help.” I pause for a beat. “Your stepdad sounds like an ass.”

“He can be. Most of the time I don’t think he realizes he’s being an ass, though. He really thinks he’s being helpful.”

“Why’d your mom marry him?”

“Because he’s not an ass to her,” Chase says, and he sounds reluctant to admit it. “He treats her like a queen.” Even more reluctantly, he goes on. “Some of the nastier people in Darling think he just wanted a trophy wife, but he doesn’t treat her like one. He’s good to her.”

   
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