She hadn’t meant for it to come out so sharply. Ollie looked startled, and the space between them grew awkward. “Sorry,” he said. “I only meant—”
“I know. It’s okay.” Makani shook her head, trying to smile. She’d understood his meaning instantly; she was upset because someone might have overheard him. She attempted to mend the delicate breach. “Is that something the police are looking into?”
He nodded as her phone vibrated, rattling the top of her desk.
The noise rattled her, too. Rodrigo’s phone. Blowing up. Thankfully, it was more good news, this time from her grandmother: Still in Omaha. Doc kept me waiting for over an hour just to tell me that I’ll have to come back for more tests. I won’t be home when school gets out. Would you please ask Darby to stay with you until I get there?
Makani texted back: sure! no worries.
This time, her grin at Ollie was genuine. “Wanna come over to my place?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They left behind Ollie’s car at school and walked to her house, in case Grandma Young came home early and he needed to make a sneaky getaway. The irony was not lost on them that this behavior made them look suspicious, but the sun was shining, and the air was crisp with the magic of autumn.
Leaves pinwheeled from the sky and swirled across the sidewalk. Mums brightened the dull landscape with vibrant pops of yellow, lavender, and russet. Cheesecloth ghosts hung from invisible string on tree branches. Tombstones with joke names created temporary graveyards. And pumpkins—orange, white, tall, round, flat, and miniature—decorated every porch and door. Halloween was only three days away.
The afternoon felt like a gift. A respite from the ongoing stress.
Their plan was simple: Makani would encourage her grandmother to text updates regarding her arrival time, and, when she grew close, Ollie would duck out. Makani would say that Darby had just left, because they knew Grandma Young was around the corner, and Darby’s parents were anxious to have him home. And then Grandma Young would get mad, but it wouldn’t be anything an evening couldn’t fix.
Puddles of melted snow still rested beneath the oak-lined portion of Walnut Street. The north-south roads in Osborne’s oldest neighborhood were all named after trees: Cedar, Elm, Hickory, Oak, Pine, Spruce, Walnut, and Willow. They’d been christened in alphabetical order, so that the townspeople could always find their way home. Lately, Makani felt irrationally relieved that she didn’t live on Elm Street.
“What’d you tell your brother?” she asked.
“That I’m going into work early,” Ollie said. A moment of tension arose as they rounded the side of her house, and—
Yep. All clear.
Her grandmother’s gold Taurus wasn’t in the driveway.
They entered through the back door. The house was quiet. The only sound was its heartbeat, the hefty pendulum of the immense grandfather clock.
“It’s such an old-people house,” she whispered.
“I like it,” Ollie whispered back.
They didn’t have to lower their voices, but they did anyway. Energy crackled between them, intense and irrepressible. “I’m pretty sure the only items made in this century are the ones that moved here with me,” she said.
He laughed quietly. She led him out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
“She hasn’t finished it yet?” he asked.
Makani stopped, halfway up.
“The puzzle,” he said.
She followed his gaze over the banister and into the living room, where most of the sky pieces—the blues and whites and grays—were still scattered around the coffee table. She shook her head and smiled. “I think she’s been waiting for you.”
“Next time, I’ll visit when she’s home.”
Makani raised an eyebrow. “Sure you don’t want to work on it now?”
Ollie bit his lip. Let the ring slip back out. “Positive.”
As Makani led him into her bedroom, she sensed his eyes on the curves of her body. She felt his hunger, because it was the same hunger that she felt inside herself.
She locked the door behind them. Just in case.
It reminded her to check her phone, and a new text had arrived from Grandma Young. Accident on Route 6. Stuck in West Omaha traffic.
“Traffic sucks. We’re in luck.” Makani sing-songed it as she plugged her phone into a speaker and turned up the volume. The loud music was also just in case, but Ollie hardly seemed to register it. He seemed taken aback by his surroundings.
Uneasy, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What?”
Ollie took a moment to collect his thoughts. “It looks like the rest of the house. Not like you. This looks like . . . you’re a visitor.”
The shrewd observation stung more than expected. “I suppose I am.”
Ollie nodded, and she was surprised that the gesture contained disappointment. Her arms uncrossed as she stepped automatically toward him, but he turned away from her. The emotional barrier slammed back into place. He kneeled beside her bed.
“What are you—”
“You once told me that I’d find something under here.” At her baffled expression, he added, “A picture?”
Her eyes widened as she recalled the old swim team photo.
His smile gleamed with mischief.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Makani threw her body between him and the bed, pinning down his arms as he struggled for something just out of reach. She couldn’t let him see the picture now. Not while she was trying to seduce him. “Next time,” she said, laughing. “I promise I’ll show you next time.”
Their chests touched. They breathed heavily.
Ollie stopped wriggling to give her another tempting smile. “And what good are the promises of someone who lies to her own grandmother?”
She kissed his lips—briefly—and pulled away. “Another day. I mean it.” She kissed him again. “Just not today.”
Ollie leaned forward and kissed her. Makani squirmed to shed her coat and got tangled in its sleeves. They both laughed as he helped her out of it.
“I’m curious—”
“Why I’m wearing a heavy coat? Because it snowed, and I grew up on the beach.”
“I’m curious,” he said, “why you’re a winter Goth.”
She was about to kiss him again, but this made her stop. “What?”
“Your summer clothes are colorful, and your winter clothes are black.” He motioned at her coat and sweater to prove his point and then inclined his head for more kissing, as if he hadn’t just initiated a weird conversation.
Makani pulled back so that he couldn’t reach her mouth.
The summer clothes were her old clothes. In Hawaii, the warmest items she’d needed were jeans and a hoodie. Here, she’d had to ask her grandmother to buy her a coat, hat, scarf, gloves, and sweaters. They’d made a special trip to a mall in Omaha, and she’d selected everything in black. She couldn’t explain why except that when she wore it, she felt a bit more protected. A bit more hardened. But that sounded dumb, and she didn’t want Ollie to think she was copying him or Alex.
She teased him instead. “I like that you pay so much attention to what I’m wearing.”
“I always pay attention to you. I always see you.”