Robin Constantine - The Promise of Amazing

Four weeks ago I couldn’t have imagined having this kind of relationship. But that’s how love happens, isn’t it? You’re just minding your own business, tossing hot dogs in your mouth, and bam—you cross paths with a beautiful girl you can’t stop thinking about. I felt high. Everything was different.

School became less hellish; the prospect of connecting with Wren afterward made the day fly by. I even participated in class, surprising my teachers who didn’t know what to make of the guy who usually slouched so far into his desk, he became one with the seat.

It was a Wednesday, and the object of my affection had a yearbook meeting. We were getting together at the library after dinner, so I could go over arbitrary angles with her. At least that’s what we were calling it. It was hard to concentrate when her perfect mouth, ripe for a kiss was only inches from mine.

Naturally good old Sir Isaac and his pesky gravitational law F = mg would have to go and screw it up, since what goes up must come down. I was pretty damn high as I pulled the Chrysler into the parking spot in front of my house, only to come crashing to earth with a thud when I saw Luke sitting on my top step, waiting.

Reality was such a harsh drag force.

I took my time grabbing my backpack, closing the door, and wrestling my house key out of my pocket. I’d called him after the Allegra thing, but it had gone straight to his voice mail. I knew that sooner or later he’d want to talk to me about it. I’d only hoped it was later . . . or never.

“Ah, amor vincit omnia,” he said, standing as I got to the top of the stairs. He was holding some sort of flowered dish and smirking, black Ray-Bans covering his eyes.

Love conquers all. “Really, why do you say that?”

“My sources tell me you’ve been picking up a Sacred Heart chick after school, name rhymes with hen. Must be serious. You seem . . . happy.”

“‘Name rhymes with hen’? Why can’t you just act normal about this?”

He pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. “Normal? Really? Grayson, I’m standing here freezing my nuts off with my stepmom’s vegan lasagna for your father, and you’re as whipped as a housebroken puppy over some girl who saved you from choking. I feel like I’m living in a parallel universe. It’s gonna take some getting used to this new you.”

I decided to cut him some slack.

“Whipped by choice, my friend,” I said, putting my key in the door. “Not so bad; you should try it.”

“Ha, I’d rather try this vegan lasagna with a soy-milk chaser,” he said, holding up the dish. I stood between the front and storm doors, poised to go in, wondering when he was going to bring up Allegra and what happened on Saturday.

“Are you gonna ask me in?”

“You look like you have somewhere to go,” I answered.

“Nope, thought I’d swing by, drop this off before heading to Andy’s. I can hang for bit. Remember, like we used to do?”

“Fine, sure, come in.”

He followed me. I set my backpack down in the foyer and wandered into the kitchen. Luke opened the fridge, placed the lasagna on the top shelf, and grabbed two Cokes. He tossed one to me one and popped his open, taking a long gulp. I leaned against the counter.

“So what’s up?” I asked.

“Not much. Coach is still scouting for a new middie, but no one’s got your speed or reflexes, so we’re pretty much screwed without the Raptor,” he said, throwing in Coach’s nickname for me. It stung to hear, something I hadn’t thought about in a while. “It’s a shame Bergen Point doesn’t have a team. That must suck for you.”

“Yeah, it sucks,” I answered, cracking open my soda.

“What are you going to do with your gear?”

“I don’t know. I thought I’d pile it in the yard and host a bonfire,” I said, wanting to wipe the smirk off his face. “Just ask me what you want to ask me already, Luke.”

He swallowed another sip of soda before answering. “Seeing as how you’re not into our little arrangement anymore, I thought you could use some cash. Maybe sell your gear. But since you seem to think I’m here for another reason, well, okay . . . What happened on Saturday?”

“Allegra blew me off. I went in, talked to her a little bit, but she wasn’t interested, so I left, called you,” I said. He fiddled with the flip-top tab on his can.

“Christ, Grayson, you’ve really lost your edge. You can’t lie for shit.”

I stiffened.

“I’m not lying.”

“Really? Allegra said it was the other way around.”

“When . . . how—”

“What? Just protecting our investment. Had to go in and see for myself. Asked her a few questions, that’s all. Made it totally casual. I think you’re out of your mind to give up tapping that again, but whatever. That house was out of our scope anyway. What I don’t get is why you had to lie. It’s just me.”

Keys jangled, echoing through the hallway as Tiffany and Pop came in.

“Luke! It’s so good to see you,” Tiffany said, dropping her gym bag near my backpack and kicking off her sneakers. She padded over to us. Pop followed behind.

“Hi, Mr. Barrett, Mrs. Barrett,” Luke said, giving Pop a brisk handshake and Tiff a quick peck on the cheek.

Luke seemed unruffled by our whole exchange. If he had gone to see Allegra himself—why did I have to be involved in the first place? I stewed while Luke, Pop, and Tiff bantered back and forth about the vegan lasagna, Luke not being here in a while, and if his stepmom, Isabelle, was ready for Christmas or not.

“Luke, stay for dinner; have some lasagna,” Pop said, widening his eyes at me. I knew vegan anything sounded as appetizing to him as chewing on the bottom of his boot.

“Thanks, but I’m a carnivore, Mr. B,” Luke said, patting his stomach. “Have to get going anyway. I’m trying to get Grayson to come to Andy’s with me.”

“Go, Gray. Don’t worry about us,” Tiff said.

“I’ve got something to do later, want to get some homework done first,” I answered, glaring at Luke. “Let me walk you out.”

“Don’t be a stranger, Luke,” Pop said, grabbing Tiff’s coat and carrying it to the closet while I walked Luke back outside.

“Something to do later or someone?” he asked, once we were outside. I closed the door behind me.

“Why are you hassling me if you don’t care about the Allegra thing anymore?”

“’Cause I think you should come hang out. It’s not the same without you, Grayson. But you’re not really the same, are you? I think you’re too punch-drunk from steady poontang. How is she, by the way? Quiet in the sack too?”

My fists clenched. Being physical with Wren was so new and . . . private. It took all my self-control not to deck him.

“Hmm, not sharing. You are in love. You’ll get bored with her, you know,” he warned. “And then you’ll come looking for us, and we’ll be in Amsterdam.”

“I won’t get bored.”

“Yeah, okay.” He flipped his shades back on. “Gotta run. Maybe I’ll see you ’round. Tell Wren I said hey.”

He trotted down the stairs and strode toward his car, a nondescript, black hatchback that Luke’s father told him would build his character. Tell Wren I said hey. He honked the horn as the car rode down the street. Maybe he was just being friendly. Maybe he would come around to the new me. I went back inside, trying to ignore the overwhelming feeling that this was only the beginning of some sort of trouble.

Something was up.

He’d dropped the subject of Allegra too easily.

Luke was a raptor too.

SIX DAYS, EIGHT HOURS, TWENTY-THREE MINutes, give or take a couple of seconds from the moment Grayson Barrett said those three little words. Common sense told me things were progressing way, way too fast, but my heart was enjoying the ride too much. In over my head? More like drowning and loving it.

Which was probably why heading to St. Lucy’s to spread holiday cheer felt like a fun, festive thing to participate in, even if I’d been backed into doing it. Afterward I was supposed to go with Grayson to his mother’s in Connecticut. I need you there, he’d said. There was no question in my mind that I would go. Thankfully the parental units approved, but it didn’t stop Mom from grilling me on the car ride to Sacred Heart.

“Where in Connecticut does Grayson’s mother live again?” Mom asked.

“I don’t know, something with a D . . . Darien, maybe?”

“Something with a D, Darien maybe,” she repeated. “I’m letting you go out of state with a strange boy, and you don’t even know where you’re going?”

“He’s not a strange boy,” I said, texting him my mother’s question. “He’s your employee, my friend, and I saved his life. We have a history.”

“A history? Wren, it’s barely been a month. Aren’t things progressing a little fast? You’re meeting his mother?”

“She’s having a tree-trimming party, Mom. It’s not like a special dinner just to meet me. And yes, it’s Darien,” I answered, reading Grayson’s text but quickly shutting down the window. The rest of the message was not something I wanted to share, but it made me grin so wide, my mother raised her eyebrows in response. How could he make me blush with a text? Seeing him couldn’t come fast enough.

“Remember to call me when you get to his mother’s house!”

“Yes, Mom. Thanks for the ride,” I said, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek. I slid out, closed the door, and headed for the parking lot, where I could already see a group huddled around Ava. She was wearing a sparkly Santa-hat headband, which looked totally adorable on her flat-ironed style, and she knew it.

“It’s about time,” she said, handing me a bag. I pulled out a hat shaped like a Christmas tree. To further the tackiness, one push of a button, and it danced on your head.

“You’re not suggesting I wear this?”

“C’mon, it’s a holiday party.”

“Are you trying to get someone to wear that asinine hat again?”

Luke Dobson stood behind Ava. Maybe it was the overcast gray-lit morning, or maybe it was my viewing the world through Grayson-colored shades, but he seemed less imposing than he had at Andy’s house. I met his gaze.

“Perfect word,” I said.

Ava huffed and handed me a jingle-bell necklace instead. “At least wear this, and hand out some of them to the guys on the bus.”

“Great,” I said, accepting the handful of necklaces. She took one and dangled it in front of Luke.

“Not happening.”

“Luke, c’mon,” Ava pleaded.

“I’m wearing red,” he said, unzipping his ski jacket. “That’s festive enough.”

I laughed.

“See, Wren agrees.”

“Fine,” she conceded.

“Okay, people, let’s move it, on the bus,” Mrs. Fiore said, clapping her hands to call us to attention. A large man in a Santa hat poked out his head from the bus doorway and waved us on.

I waited as the others piled onto the bus, then walked to the back and handed out the necklaces. A few of the St. Gabe’s boys made snarky remarks, mostly about jingle balls. I pretended not to hear and kept moving down the rows of seats. The engine sputtered to life. I held on to the seats on either side of me as the bus lurched forward.

There weren’t many seats available. To the left of me, Luke was sprawled out, head against the window. He caught my eye and motioned next to him, adjusting his position so there was more room for me. I wondered where Ava was, then spotted her up front, sitting next to Mrs. Fiore and pointing to something on her clipboard. I plunked down next to Luke, knocking into him pretty forcefully as the bus exited the parking lot.

“Sorry,” I said, sliding away from him. He didn’t say anything, just locked eyes with me, his lips upturned slightly. I caught myself staring. That mouth. He really knows what to do with it. I mock-coughed into my fist and peered out the window as the bus ambled along the boulevard. Someone began a holiday sing-along. Luke muttered, “Hell, no” and hunkered down into his seat.

“So how did you like Andy’s house?” he asked.

“It was cool,” I lied.

“You skipped out pretty early, no?”

The fact that he’d noticed was unsettling. “Yes.”

“Why?”

I shrugged.

“Let me guess, you’re more of a one-on-one kind of chick.”

“Not really.”

“Too bad for Grayson then.”

My body clenched in response.

“Did you get a chance to meet Gray’s other friends?” he asked.

“A few, I guess. Why?”