Slow Burn (35 page)

Um, I don’t get the feeling that he’s joking, and that has me a lil’ concerned.
  “Great,” I sigh.  “So, there’s probably another person out there who wants to kill me.”

Ben leans forward to pat me on the head.  “
Don’t worry, kid.  We’ll find  him—or her.  Hell, Johnny spent all of homecoming interrogating—oh, everyone.  Liddell was pissed.  She’s trying to pass the whole thing off as a harmless prank gone bad.  Our parents will get letters in the mail with the standard official bullshit...‘There’s no cause for panic, your little angels are safe with us.  Don’t mind the crazy asshole starting fires everywhere and blowing shit up.’  Blah, blah, blah.”

“You think the arsonist is the one who set the smoke bombs?”  I shiver in my blazer.  “But why target me?  The fires started happening before I even came to Leclare.”

“I actually don’t think it’s the same person.  The fires are small time shit—cries for attention, you know?  It could be any of us trust fund assholes with abandonment issues.”  He flicks his cigarette into the bushes, then thoughtfully runs a hand through his short blonde hair.  “Whoever did the bombs has something against you.  Or Johnny.”

I gasp, sitting up straighter.  “I never
even thought of it like that.  I was so focused on the idea that someone wanted to hurt me that I didn’t consider—who would know the combination to Johnny’s locker?  Kara, I bet.”

Ben just grins.  “You know Jo
hnny keeps it unlatched, right?  ‘Cause who would be crazy enough to mess with his shit.  Anyone could’ve snatched his phone, then sneaked it back.”

My shoulders slump again.  “And no one would have noticed because of the pep rally, and the confusion after.”

“Hey, don’t worry.  We’ve got our list of suspects.”

“Really?”  I arch my eyebrows in surprise.  “Who’s on it?”

“Some of Leclare’s notorious delinquents, a couple of guys with a grudge against Johnny.  Do you know a Bobo Frederico?  He’s on the top of the list.”

“I know Bobo!  Why is he on the list?”

“The dude’s weird.  He’s got future terrorist written all over him.”  Ben shrugs, reaching behind his neck to tug on the collar of his shirt.  He’s in some shit band, and some of the lyrics are gruesome—there’s this one song where he talks about blowing up God.  And,” he adds, pointing an unlit cigarette at me, “he’s got a giant hate-on for Johnny.”

“Why?”

“Johnny hooked up with Frederico’s cousin, or sister—and broke her heart.  This was before you, of course.”

“Of course.”  I frown, considering. 
“He asked me out,” I confess.

Ben’s gaze suddenly sharpens.  “What?  When?”

I tell him about Saturday night, shamefacedly explaining why Bobo now has my number, and my agreement to go on a date with him.  I should have left some parts out for dignity’s sake. I don’t know why I feel I can tell Ben anything—especially after he starts laughing at me.

He sprawls back on the steps, chuckling. 
“Juliet, Parker’s balls-up obsessed with you—seriously, how can you not know that by now?  That shit with Dani was just self-sabotage, ‘cause the dumbass doesn’t think he deserves to be happy.”

I’m hit with a massive wave of guilt.  Looking down, I mutter, “Wow, Ben, did you get that psychology de
gree online, or did it come in a box of cereal?”

“You’re cute.  A
ctually, my therapist told me that.”

That brings my head up.  “You told your therapist about us?!”

Ben just gives a little shrug, like it’s no big deal.  He pops the cigarette in his mouth, and mumbles around it.  “It tell Ajit what I have for breakfast every morning.  When I go to Yale, I’m buying him a condo so he can visit me every weekend.  You think I’m kidding.”

Sadly, no.  I’m curious
, despite myself.  “So…what did he have to say?  About me and Johnny?”

“
Uhhh.  I believe the term ‘future murder/suicide’ was used.  Damn, where’d I put my lighter?”

I deflate.  “Oh…okay, then.”

Ben triumphantly brandishes a silver Zippo that looks suspiciously like Dean’s.  “Speaking of shrinks—I hear you have a date with Rigby sometime soon.  You’re gonna love him—tell you why after you meet him.”

“I’m not going,”
I scoff.  “Aunt J—Liddell.  Principal Liddell—she can’t make me.  It’s not like I’m traumatized, or anything.”

“Hey, I know you’re a tough chick.  But I think you should go.  You might find the experience…illuminating.”

“Hm, intriguingly cryptic—but I’ll pass.”  I climb to my feet after checking the time on my phone.  “Bell’s about to ring.  You going in?”

He leans back on his elbows, unconcerned.  “I’m meeting Arianna in a few minutes.  She’
s gonna help me formulate an equation to demonstrate the autonomous convergence theorem.”

I
just stare at him, unblinking.

“I’m gonna try to convince her to squeeze in a quickie before class.”

“Oh, well, good luck.”  I pick my bag from the step.  “See you in Lit.”

Ben lifts his hand in a lazy wave.  “I’ll be there, hopefully with a smile on my face.”

Ew, just got a mental image. 

And my day goes downhill from there.  For some strange reason, Britney, the mayor’s daughter, appoints herself my PR rep.  she glues herself to my side all morning, and answers any questions thrown my way.  After she gives me a gift box full of Sephora’s fall lip gloss colors, I stop protesting.  Hell, yes, I can be bought.

Besides, I’m putting all my energy into dodging Johnny.  By the third time I blow him off, he knows something’s up.  I can tell by the dark intense look on his face as he watches me pretend to be in deep conversation with Aunt Jo when I s
ee him coming.  So, not only do I not fool him, I think I just agreed to head a safety committee for Leclare.

Government with Nick is horrible.  We can’t even look at each other.  Worse, Sara and I pair up for an assignment on which amendments we feel are the most important to us.
  It’s then that she chooses to finally confess her secret crush on Nick.  She begs me to hook them up—and what can I say except, “damn, your timing sucks!”

I don’t really say that, but come on!  And what if they do get together, and end up boyfriend and girlfriend?  Sara and I could never hang out—I would feel too guilty.  I’m seriously pissed at myself. 
If these were medieval times, I’d place myself in the stocks, and shamefully accept being pelted with rotten fruit.

I’m hovering just outside the cafeteria doors, debating whether I sh
ould go in or not, when Johnny catches me. 

“Teeny,
we need to talk,” he says grimly, holding an arm out to bar my entrance.  Maybe it’s a trick of light, but his eyes seem to have darkened to a stormy gray, instead of their usual pure blue.

I freeze, briefly contemplating making a break for it.  Super immature, I know—but I guess I am.  Immature, that is.

I squash the urge to run, and look up at Johnny with a forced smile.  “You’re right.  How about tonight after wor—?”

“No.  Now.”

“But—”

While I’m protesting, he’s dragging me
away—carefully, so he doesn’t hurt me, even though I go limp in defense.  He practically carries me out to the parking lot, and to his truck.  He opens the passenger door, deposits me into the seat, and goes around to the driver’s side.

We sit there silently.  Johnny rests his forearms on the steering wheel and stares straight ahead, jaw tensed.
  I can’t seem to get any words past the giant lump in my throat.  I need to tell him—

“
I talked to Kara.  I know you know,” he says finally, interrupting my thoughts.  He turns to face me.  “That thing with Dani…I should have told you, and I’m sorry I didn’t.  I guess I—I don’t know.  I knew you’d be that much more pissed if you knew we had hooked up before.”

I take a deep breath.
  “Why did you do it, Johnny?” I blurt out.  “Really.  And don’t give me those lame excuses.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” he admits to the steering wheel.  “You don’t know how many nights I’ve lain awake, asking myself why was I such a dick that night.
  I knew you didn’t cheat on me.  Deep down I knew.”

“Then why?”  I lift both hands up, then let them drop heavily into my lap
.  “Did you secretly want to break up with me?  You don’t do what you did, and say what you said unless you wanted to hurt me. You subconsciously hate me, maybe?”

“No!  No, I could never hate you. 
I guess…I think it’s because I realized something that night.”

He cuts intensely blue eyes to me.  “The game against Crawville.
  I was just going through the motions, my head wasn’t in the game at all.  I kept thinking about you, wondering what you were doing, and wishing I could be with you instead of running in the mud with a bunch of sweaty guys.  It hit me then.”  He shakes his head, slightly incredulous.  “I would give it all up for you.”

“What, you mean football?”  I gape at him.  “Johnny, that’s insane!”

“I know.”  His broad shoulders hunch angrily.  “You don’t think I know that?  Why do you think I freaked out?  I guess I was looking for a reason to push you away, hurt you.  Something’s wrong with me when it comes to you.”

I
’m shocked speechless.  So, what, I’m like a sickness?  What the hell am I suppose to say to that?!  Fortunately, my anxiety causes the hiccups.  Because nothing dispels those awkward silences like my baby dinosaur squeaks.

“So what you’re saying is that I’m not good for you,” I say between hiccups. 
Even though I’ve pretty much said the same thing myself, but it hurts to hear it coming from him.

“We’re not good for each other,” Johnny admits
.

Damn it!  What girl wants to hear that?  I’m supposed to be the magical
one
that saves the self-destructive bad boy from himself—not the toxic ex!  Even my hiccups sound hostile as I glare at him.  What a hideously truthful thing to say.  I should have drunken sex with his best friend to get back at him!

Wow, just listen to my thoughts.  I
am
toxic.

But still.  Whatever happened to not knowing how to give up on us?
 

He’s gone back to staring at the steering wheel, so he fortunately misses my initial reaction. 
I dig my fingernails into the skin on my knees, and try to summon my best grown up voice.

“You’re right,” I say eventually, fighting to keep a smile on my face. 
Like he’s not kicking my heart around with his words.  “I guess it’s time we both realize it.”

Johnny nods once, then glances up at me.  “
It’s all my fault.  But I can change.  I know what’s wrong with me, and I can fix it.  I can be the kind of boyfriend you deserve.”

Wait—what?

“Johnny—”

“No.”  His expression hardens
, and his jaw clenches stubbornly.  “I know one of the reasons you won’t take me back is ‘cause of the stupid shit I do.  How possessive I am.  I can work on that.”  He lowers his head.  “My mom has this therapist she sees.  He’s helped her a lot, I guess.  He wants to meet with me, too.  I can…I want to talk to him.”

Oh, man.  I peer into his electric blue eyes and the cautious hope
I see in them kills me.  My body aches to fall against his, but I just
can’t
.  He put the crack in us, and I shattered it beyond repair.

Tears stream uncontrollably down my cheeks.  I quickly angle my face away from him.  “We can’t get back together,”
I say brokenly, forcing the words past the huge lump in my throat.

I can feel him shifting in his seat so he’s
facing me.  He cups my chin, trying to get me to look at him.  “I promise you I can fix this.  Just—please, Teeny—give me another chance.  Be patient with me.  I swear to god you won’t regret it.”

Johnny
’s pleading with me, but I pull away, shaking and crying and hiccupping.  “No—no, it’s too late.”

His warmth, the comfort of his strong arms
, is too temptingly close.  He closes the distance between us, moving so he’s braced over me.  “It’s not.  We can start over.  Look at me, Juliet.  I’m willing to see someone about my shit—do you realize how huge that is for me?”

“No, I know, but—
hic!—
you said it yourself.  We’re not good for each other.”  I try to push him back, get some breathing space.  “The way how you feel about me…it’s not healthy—”

“No, it’s not,” he admits
, briefly resting his forehead against mine.  “I wanna breathe you.  I think about you all day, and you’re in my bed with me every night.  I know—I know that freaks you out how much I need you, but I can—”

“
I slept with somebody! 
Hic!
”

Oh,
shit
.  Did I just blurt that out?  I did not mean to tell him like that.

Johnny’s entire body seems to freeze against mine.  Time
, my heart, stops.  I’ve shocked my  hiccups away—I can barely breathe.  I wish words were like an ugly blouse I could go back to the store and exchange for something that fit better, and was less completely horrible.