Cadence was the only one who’d been silent about the whole thing.
After dinner -- and the chili did knock my damn socks off -- Aunt Helene pulled me aside. “Saxon, lovey,” she sighed, “that girl don’t want your nonsense.”
“What do you mean?” I had a belly full of delicious beans and spice and my head was barely sitting right on my shoulders from all the pro-Saxon talk at the dinner table.
“She wants someone to see her. The real her. Not her family. Not just that pretty face. If you don’t show her that’s what you see, she’s not going to be interested. Smarten up, boy.” She tapped me on the temple with a pointy fingernail.
I kissed her on the head because she’s so fucking the real deal, it’s disgusting. And I thought about what she had to say. I actually spent a really decent amount of time thinking about what Aunt Helene said.
I did see Cadence.
I saw how she could juggle a dozen cars’ worth of orders at a time. I saw how she was stressed and wanted more and better, like college and fun nights out, but she loved her family and wouldn’t leave them high and dry. I saw that she was careful to let guys see her as pretty and a little funny and basically smart, but deep inside she was way crazier, way sharper, and sillier. She didn’t want to let that all out most of the time, but she’d done it. That infamous Chinese-food-and-nail-polish debacle showed me that she was just waiting to bust out and, hopefully, right into my waiting arms.
But things got better and worse for me way too quickly. Better because the entire Erikson clan fell for me hard and basically initiated me into their club. It was pretty much assumed that Cadence and I would get together.
Which is what made it worse.
Cadence didn’t seem to like the idea at all, pretty much because her family was so hopped up on it. When they teased her about it or mentioned it outright, she rolled her eyes or shook her head. I was getting no points at all with her, and I had no idea what to do about it.
I needed to get her in private, to tell her what I was thinking and what I noticed, but she was sly. She wriggled right out of my damn grasp every time I thought I had her cornered. Finally, I had to take it to another level.
I said goodbye to her adoring family, and felt a little pissed at the relief visible in her eyes when I headed out the door, my hands in my pockets, my head down like I was dejected. It didn’t take long for the house to settle for the night. I sat on an abandoned crate in her alley, watching the windows like a creepy stalker and wishing like crazy that I had a goddamn cigarette.
Brenna always hated my smoking, and she once told me that it was just a prop, just something cool to do. And I guess it mostly had been; but it was also a shitload of nicotine, and that’s not easy to get over. Especially when I was feeling jittery about other things. Like Cadence Erikson blowing me off.
I knew when it was cool to hop up the fire escape. I can’t say how I knew. It was just some kind of innate breaking and entering ability. There was definitely something profoundly fucked up about me and my delinquent sixth senses.
I crept up to her window like a cat burglar. She was sitting on her bed, looking down at her phone, probably texting. I rapped my knuckles on the window and she looked up fast, her eyes big and nervous. She glared, then came over to the window and slid it up.
“What?” she whispered.
“I want to talk to you.” I kept my voice low. “Do you want to get out of here? Go somewhere?”
She pulled her gorgeous lips down in a frown and, for a split second, I was pretty sure the window was going to get smashed down in my face. But then there was a tiny little hesitation. “It’s past my curfew.”
“I didn’t think we’d ask.” I leaned closer to her. “Haven’t you ever broken a rule, Cadence?”
“I’m not on your level yet, but I’m no angel,” she hissed back.
“Come on. It’s a nice night. Let’s go out. We’ll have some fun. I’ll have you home way before anyone knows. Come on.” I could see that she wanted it. “Be bad. Come on.”
She bit her lip, then nodded. She turned around and went to her dresser and put some shiny goop on her lips, ran her hand through her hair a few times, grabbed her purse and shoes and put a finger to her lips. She stepped out on the fire escape and we made our way down, stopping a few times when we were sure we woke the whole damn house. By the time we hit the ground, we were so keyed up she just grabbed my hand and ran. I didn’t even know where we were heading, and I didn’t give a fuck. I was with Cadence, and that was all that really mattered.
We finally stopped running a few blocks away and she slid down next to one of the buildings, laughing so hard she was almost crying.
“Oh shit.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m going to be in such deep trouble if my dad finds out about this.”
I sat next to her, the street pretty deserted, nothing but the distant sounds of traffic, the hot summer air, and me and this perfectly insane girl.
“Let’s make sure he doesn’t find out.” I looked at her for a minute and we inched closer, exactly the way I had every time I’d been about to kiss a girl. She wanted it. I could practically taste it from her. But she pulled away at the last minute, stood up, and yanked at my hand.
“Let’s go do something.” She smiled and her teeth looked bright white in the moonlight. She was wearing a tiny blue tank top and a white skirt and little flip-flop thingies. I couldn’t help thinking of how easy it would be to get her out of all of those tiny pieces of clothing. They were practically made to pull off.
“What do you want to do?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes off of her cleavage. I didn’t have my car there, but there was a lot we could walk to in this city.
“Let’s go to the park,” she suggested, her eyes bright. “C’mon!”
I followed her down the dark street, in between brick buildings, over a chain link fence, and into an old, almost-hidden park that time forgot. The kind with scary metal slides that get too hot in the summer and dangerous uncovered chain swings and heavy see saws that could crack skulls and tailbones. But the piece de resistance was the big, puke-inducing merry-go-round. It would have taken a good six or seven able-bodied elementary school kids to get the thing spinning, and once it started, the momentum would whip your stomach right up through your throat and out your mouth. Cadence jumped on and sat in the middle.
“Spin me,” she demanded.
“Are you sure?” I grabbed the paint-chipped metal bars. I jogged, pulling the heavy metal disc around slowly, just to remind her of how treacherous and awful it felt.
Cadence closed her eyes and dropped her head back, her long black hair picking up and blowing around her face. “Yes.” Her voice swept up into the night sky. “I’m sure. Do it, Saxon.”
She held the bars, her back arched out and her head tipped. I whipped the heavy metal around, and she grabbed on tight and screamed a little. I wouldn’t have been able to stay on it for more than a few seconds, but she was impressively able to handle the crazy spinning. It took a while before her head rolled forward and she groaned a little sickly.
“Done?” I asked, and when she nodded, I stopped the torture and helped her down. She was unsteady enough to have to lean on me. I led her to the swings and we sat.
“I used to love that when I was little,” she said, swinging back and forth gently. Her legs were long and tan, hanging out of her way-too-short white skirt. Her arms, twined around the chains of the swings, held on tight as she kicked out and swayed forwards and backwards.
“I’m not really all about the puking sensation.” My sneakers slid in the gritty sand under the swings. “What’s the appeal?”
She shrugged and swung a little higher. “I think it was just about feeling different. A little out of control.” She went even higher. Her hair swung out behind her, then billowed down and around her face. She looked like a kid, but also very much like a woman.