7 Minutes in Heaven Page 5

We walk through the parking lot side-by-side, our heads down. Our eyes focused on the ground to make sure it’s sturdy under our feet. My mind is somewhere else. It’s on the sweet soap smell of him and the way his arm keeps bumping against mine with every step he takes. It’s in the green of his eyes that I feel dart to me every now and then, just to look at me. To check on me. He never says anything but I can feel him aware of me as much as I am of him. We pass other people heading to class. Some say hello. Eyes follow us as we walk, but Kyle either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He and his perfect confidence stride straight to the south building where his Spanish class is housed.

  He touches my back briefly to say goodbye before going inside.

  I can feel the weight of his hand on my body for the rest of the walk; burned into my nerves like a brand.

  Makena is waiting for me in Biology. She squirms at the tall, black table like a puppy who just saw their human pull up in the driveway. She’s smiling ear to ear.

  “You came to school with Kyle Rixton?” she hisses at me as I sit down across from her.

  I glance around to see if anyone else is listening. No one but the two guys who share our table heard her and they don’t care. They’re playing some co-op video game together on their cell phones.

  “Yeah, I did,” I whisper to her. “How do you know that? We just got here.”

  “Are you serious? He’s the freshest thing this town has seen in years. People are tracking his every move.” She smiles wickedly. “Especially Marcy. I heard about it from Kendra who heard it from her that she saw you guys pull up together. She was so pissed. She told Kendra it doesn’t matter, he’s not that hot anyway, but it’s such crap. She was crazy into him yesterday and now all of a sudden he’s ‘not that hot’? She’s just mad because he’s not that interested.” She wiggles excitedly in her seat, her face bright and eager. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her in months. “So, what’s the deal? Is he driving you home too?”

  I smile softly. “He is.”

  She falls against the table, reaching for me. “Oh my God!”

  I shoo her hands away. “Shhh. Stop. People are going to stare.”

  “They’re already gonna stare. I told you. Everyone is tracking him.”

  “That’s really creepy.”

  “This is a boring town, Grace. It’s the dead of winter and there’s nothing good on TV. Either we make our own fun or we start doing drugs and drinking heavily. Do you want that? Do you want to be responsible for the biggest drug problem in history hitting Jackson, Utah?”

  “No,” I answer seriously. “I do not want to be responsible for that.”

  “Then give us this. Give us you and Kyle sitting in a tree.” She grins, swaying back and forth to the song. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

  “Open your books to page thirty-seven!” Mr. Nyan commands from the door. He kills the lights, plunging us into the hazy glow of the overhead projector displaying a diagram of the human brain. It shows a clear separation between the left and right hemisphere. “The left side of the brain controls the right side of your body, and vice versa. The left side is known to be our logic center. It helps you do math and hopefully get an A in Biology, while the right side of your brain is more artistic. It’s abstract and creative. It will not help you here so shut it off for the next hour. Thank you!”

  I open my book, leaning over the table to hiss to Makena, “I’ve known Kyle a day. We’re not kissing.”

  “Not yet you’re not,” she whispers with a wink.

  chapter 7

  I have one more class with Kyle. Economics. He comes in after lunch. When he spots me, he smiles as he makes his way over to my table. It’s surrounded by four seats, two of which are open. He takes the one next to me.

  I grin as he sits. I blush, because of course I do. “How’s it going?”

  “Good. I thought I’d see you before lunch. I was going to ask if we could eat together.”

  “Oh, sorry,” I say with a frown, but inside I’m smiling. “I went with my friend Makena.”

  “The blond girl? Short? Perky? Cute?”

  “That’s her.”

  “She’s in my English class. She seems cool.”

  “She’s very cool.”

  He taps the back of my hand gently with his long finger. “On Thursday we should get lunch together before this class. All three of us.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I agree vaguely, playing it cool.

  He smiles at my reaction. He knows what I’m doing. He knows exactly how I’m feeling.

  I feel good. I feel excited about him.

  Kyle introduces himself to the other guy at the table. His name is Bryson. I’ve known him since kindergarten. He’s nice enough and really smart, but I saw him crack open a pen and taste the ink inside back in 7th Grade and I’ve never been able to forget it. He’ll forever have an alien blue tongue in my mind.

  Right before the bell rings to start class, Marcy breezes in. Normally she sits at a table with a couple of her girlfriends, but she hesitates when she spots Kyle. She looks between her friends and him, the empty seat next to him, and immediately strides over to our table.

  I groan silently inside when she parks herself right next to Kyle. “Hey! I didn’t know you had Econ with me too.”

  “Looks like it,” Kyle agrees amiably.

  “English, Econ, and P.E. We’ll have to get together to study.”

  “Yeah, that’d be good.”

  “Take my number.” She whips out her phone, swiping it to life. She smiles, motioning for Kyle to do the same. “I’ll send you a text so you have it.”

  And so she’ll have your number too, I think drolly.

  I stare at the blank blackboard as Marcy and Kyle exchange numbers. I don’t know if I can act like I don’t care, so I act like I don’t even see it. It’s the best I can manage.

  Kyle taps the back of my hand again, pulling me away from the nothing I’ve engrossed myself in. No, he doesn’t tap my hand. He touches it, his finger lingering on my skin. “Can I get your number, too?”

  “Oh. Sure.”

  I rattle off my number for him. He deftly types it into his phone before lifting it to snap a quick picture of me. “Smile!”

  I do on reflex. The flash bursts in my eyes.

  Kyle looks at the picture with a grin. “That’s a good one.”

  “Let me see.”

  He shows it to me, but instead of turning his phone to face me, he leans over the corner of the table to look at it with me. His head is close to my shoulder. His arm is brushing up against mine.

  I like the photo. I look happy and surprised, like I’m almost laughing. He’ll use it as his contact image for me and I’m relieved I don’t have bad hair and five chins.

  “Is it okay or should I take another one?” he asks quietly.

  I shake my head. “No, it’s good. Thanks.”

  Kyle sits back in his seat, stowing his phone.

  He doesn’t ask to take Marcy’s picture.

  Class is boring. It’s all numbers and stats. Left brain junk that I can’t stand. Eventually Ms. Dryer turns down the lights to take us through a slideshow with a bunch of graphs that I ignore because I already recognize them from a chapter of our textbook. I’ll learn better if I just read it instead of listening to her drone on in her high-pitched voice that always sounds like she’s baby talking to us.

  Marcy doesn’t even turn her chair to face the front. She plays on her phone the entire time. I occasionally see Kyle pull out his to quickly answer a text. Marcy watches him closely out of the corner of her eye. That’s how I know they’re from her. Kyle’s face is completely straight as he answers, but at one point Marcy frowns at his reply. He slides his phone into his back pocket, making it clear he’s not getting it out again any time soon.

  Marcy puts hers away as well. She looks away, out the window.

  I wish I knew what he said to her. Whatever it was, she didn’t love it.

  Five minutes later, Kyle scribbles quickly in the c
orner of his notebook. Without looking away from the screen, he angles it toward me so I can read it.

  Zzzzzzz

  I snicker quietly.

  He glances at me with a smirk. “Right?” he whispers.

  “Seriously. So boring.”

  “I’m glad I’m not alone.”

  “This is gonna be a fun class,” I warn him sarcastically.

  He smiles wide. “I think it might be.”

  Marcy is glaring at me. I can feel it without seeing it, but I don’t look. I smile at Kyle before turning my eyes back to the slideshow.

  Kyle writes another note on his paper. Are you in an art class?

  I slowly reach over to write in green pen under his deep blue, Ceramics M/W/F 3rd period.

  Kyle reads it carefully before pulling out a worn, folded square from his pocket. He checks his schedule quickly before writing back, Is it full?

  I don’t think so.

  Maybe I’ll see you there tomorrow?

  Without overthinking it, I write back, I’ll save you a kiln. ;)

  I regret it immediately. The smiley face, not my answer. The answer is fine. It’s fun and encouraging, letting him know I want more time with him without actually having to say it. It’s the smiley face that I’m kicking myself for. Why didn’t I just dot my ‘i’ with a heart and really look like an idiot?

  Kyle reads my note. I watch him without watching him. More like casually observing him in my peripheral. But I see enough to know when he smiles. He sits back in his seat, satisfied.

  I sigh with relief that I’m not being asked to write anymore. I don’t trust myself.

  After class, Kyle says goodbye to the entire table. He smiles at us, conspicuous as a movie star, and leaves the room effortlessly under the weight of eyes watching him. He’s the focus of every room he walks into because he’s new and he’s stupid handsome, but he doesn’t seem to care. He takes it all in his stride the way only someone used to being important can.

  Between classes, I quiz Makena on the texts between Marcy and Kyle. It’s the girliest thing I’ve done in a long time.

  “I’ll get you a full transcript of her rage by tonight,” Makena promises excitedly.

  “I don’t need every single detail.”

  She looks at me impatiently. “Are you kidding me? You’re at war now, Murray. You need every last detail. Know they self, know they enemy.”

  “Alright, take it easy Genghis.”

  “It’s Sun Tzu, Grace. Read a book for once.”

  chapter eight

  I ride to school with Kyle every day for the rest of the week. Makena and I are there at the gym to watch his basketball tryouts on Friday, and that night he rides with us out to the lake for the bonfire. I seriously wasn’t going to go, but after tryouts he asked about it and when he said we should all go together, I sort of crumbled. I broke down under the weight of his smile and the green in his eyes.

  It’s cold – big surprise. I’ve got the heat blazing in my Camry but it’s weak. It always has been, always will be. Kyle and Makena aren’t complaining, though. They’re talking like old friends, clicking in a way that makes me a little jealous. But that’s just Kyle, I think. He gets along with everyone.

  When we pull into the campground by the lake, we have to park far from the fire. The place is packed. There are at least twenty cars filling the small parking lot and over forty bodies bundled up along the shore. Someone has their windows down in their Jeep, the stereo blaring. Bass thumping. A truck parked next to it has the tailgate down. There’s a keg perched at the edge surrounded by Roosevelt students.

  It’s a cops’ dream come true; underage kids drinking and trespassing on government land. It should be broken up immediately, but it’s one of those small-town things. The police know we’re here and they know what we’re doing, but they did it when they were our age too. It’s a tradition and as long as we don’t cause any damage, we’re good. They’ll leave us alone.

  “Scott’s here,” Makena whispers to me as we make our way into the madness. “He’s by the fire.”

  “Smart guy. That’s where I’m headed.”

  “Should I go too?”

  “You should go wherever you want, Makena,” I laugh. “Who cares where he is?”

  “You wanna go with me to talk to him?” Kyle offers. He met Scott earlier today at the basketball tryouts. They bonded almost instantly.

  If you believe Kyle, Scott has a thing for Makena. I am not so sure. He asks me how she’s doing every time I see him, though he never speaks to her directly. Like, ever. The only time I’ve seen him talk to her was when he showed us the pictures of Marcy and Evan making out. He felt like crap doing it, and I think he feels kind of responsible for Makena’s heartache. He didn’t do anything wrong, but he had to stand there and see her break down in tears as he flipped through the photos that ruined her relationship. Meanwhile, Marcy never saw a tear. And she never said she was sorry.

  Makena shakes her head sharply. “No. Not yet. I’m gonna take a lap first.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” I ask.

  “No, I’m good.” She smiles at me mischievously. “You guys hang out. Have fun.”

  I watch her walk away into the shadows on the outskirts of the fire, wishing I’d gone with her. Kyle and I are in a sea of people but it feels like we’re completely and utterly alone. It’s a lot of pressure.

  “Where do your parents think you are tonight?” he asks me.

  “At the movies. With Makena.” A cold wind rushes up off the frozen lake. I shiver violently against it. “Where do yours think you are?”

  “Playing ball at the YMCA with Scott. They’ll let me stay out all night if they think I’m practicing.”

  “They’re pretty strict?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Do they need to be?”

  He grins. His face is cut in half by darkness and firelight. “You mean am I trouble?”

  “You look like it,” I say with a smile. “I’m just trying to figure out if you act like it too.”

  “Not usually.”

  “But you make exceptions.”

  “Under the right circumstances.” His eyes search mine carefully. “With the right incentive.”

  I blush, feeling foolish. “And what would—”

  “You made it!” Marcy cries happily.

  I groan inside as I watch her make her way toward us. She has a red Solo cup in hand, a brilliant smile on her face. She makes cold look cute in her pink North Face and tight jeans tucked into designer boots. Her hair is down, fluttering softly in the wind. Her cheeks are rosy from the weather and whatever is in her cup. It could be beer. It could be whiskey. You never really know with her.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she tells us excitedly, though she’s only looking at Kyle.

  “Hey, Marcy,” I mutter. I’m glad Makena isn’t around. This encounter would ruin her night before it even got started.

  Marcy blinks at me slowly. “Grace, what are you doing here? Where’s your other half?”

  “She’s around.”

  “Super fun. I’m so glad you guys came,” she tells me, like she’s hosting. Like we were invited to her party with her permission. “Tell her that I want final approval on all pictures of me that go in the yearbook. She can make that happen, right? She’s the editor and everything?”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  “Perfect.” She turns to Kyle with a sexy grin. “Let’s get you a drink. What’s your poison?”

  Kyle puts out his hand, warding her off. “No. Thanks. I don’t drink.”

  “What? Seriously?”

  “Yeah, seriously.”

  Marcy laughs like that’s the strangest thing she’s ever heard. “Well, aren’t you Captain Responsible? More for me, then.”

  Kyle smiles mildly at her. He surprises us both when he puts his hand on the small of my back, leading me away. “Enjoy it. Have a good night, Marcy.”

  “Yeah. You too,” she mumble
s.

  I don’t look back. I’m afraid of being cut down by the daggers she has to be shooting me.

  “Do you drink?” Kyle asks, his voice and body close. Warm and solid against my side. I feel the fire burning hot on my left, Kyle burning even hotter on my right, and I actually go willingly with him as he takes us past the flames and the crowd. He’s leading me toward the shore. Toward the lake, the dark, and quiet at its edge.

  “No. Not really.”

  “Does Makena?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I wanna know if I should watch out for her or not.”

  I smile at his thoughtfulness. “You’re in the clear. Neither of us is much trouble.”

  “That’ll be a nice change,” he chuckles.

  “You’re used to dealing with a lot of drama?”

  “More than you know.” He nods to the lake laying dark and flat in front of us. It goes on for miles, disappearing into the night at the edge of the bonfire’s light. “Are there people out there?”

  There are. At least six of them, from what I can see. They’re walking on the frozen surface, laughing and shoving each other across it like they’re curling.

  “It’s frozen solid,” I assure him. “You could drive a car on it if you wanted to.”

  “If I brought my truck I would.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he laughs, looking down at me. His eyes are dancing with fire and life. “Have you ever done it?”

  “Once. It was terrifying.”

  “So we can walk out there right now? It won’t break?”

  “If you want to.”

  “Do you?”

  I shrug. “Sure. Why not?”

  Kyle is like a kid as he approaches the shoreline. He’s smiling, his eyes bright with amazement, and I think he’s a bit of a daredevil. A thrill seeker like most teenaged boys are. It’s not like I’m a killjoy, but I just don’t see the appeal. I like being safe. I like being warm. I get a thrill out of a good murder mystery or a strong race down the mountain. I don’t totally understand getting my jollies from defying death, but I don’t have testicles so what do I know?

  “This is crazy,” he laughs excitedly.