Slow Burn (45 page)

For the finale
, the adults in the back pull the kids through the hula hoops.  And cue the thunderous applause and cheers.  The lights come back on to show the beaming faces of all the kids.  Well, all except for Jameson, who’s in tears.  Why is he crying?  Oh, one of his glow sticks fell off!

Eileen comes back on the microphone, thanking everyone once more, and to my
embarrassment she singles me out.

“Everyone please give it up for my assistant, Juliet Somers!  She choreographed the
whole routine, and this day likely wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for her and her awesome friends.  So, take a bow, Juliet!”

Embarrassed, I manage a dorky little wave.  Someone—Mack, maybe—shouts my name, and there are a few whistles.  I spot a familiar red-blonde head in the back row.  Heather!  I try to catch her eye, but she’s not looking at me.  I can’t believe she came!

Eileen goes on to announce that she hopes everyone stays and enjoys the refreshments provided by me and my friends.  Uh…what?  Then I see the long tables set up in the back.  Ben and Arianna are putting out napkins and paper plates.  Where did all that food come from?  It looks like they raided a deli:  there are little sandwiches, big bowls of pasta salads, and platters of beautifully arranged fruit.  Ben sees me looking, and gives me a cocky salute.  I am too stunned to do much more than blink at him.

Oh, my god, this
is freaking incredible.  I’m going to have to bake a huge thank you cake.  Forget that—if one of them ever needs a kidney, I am so there.

I try to look for Heather afterwards, but she’s gone.  I think about calling her—but there’s someone I have to find first.

Dean is talking to a couple of guys from the JV football team.  I smile at the them as I approach.  The two guys get the hint and drift toward the food table, leaving me and Dean alone.

I am suddenly inexplicably nervous.  “Hey,” I say—just for something to say.

He looks amused.  “Hey, yourself.”

“Um…crap
, where do I start?”  I stare down at the floor for inspiration, before staring earnestly up at him.  “This—what you did…it’s so amazing.  Seriously, I don’t think you know how much this means to me—and Eileen, and the—the kids.  I don’t even know how you pulled it off, but…thank you, Dean.  Thank you a million times!  I can’t even…”

I start to choke up.  Dean looks uncomfortable, and slightly alarmed. 
“Don’t mention it, Juliet.  Really.”

“But...not just for today, but for always being there for me…” I fumble with my words.  “You’ve been such a great friend to me, and I just wanted you to know—thank you.
  For everything.” 

I lightly place my palm
on his chest—and gasp at the zing of electricity that shoots through my arm to my suddenly pounding heart. 
What the hell was that?!

Dean seems to fre
eze under my touch.  I wouldn’t even be able to tell he was breathing if I couldn’t feel his chest moving.  He stares at me with an intensity that burns me from head to toe.  My hand drops away in a dead faint. 

Um.  I don’t think he likes me touching him.  I clear my throat, and start backing away from him.

“S-sorry,” I apologize, my face flaming with mortification. 

Turning on my heel, I make my escape.  What was
that
about?  I’m so embarrassed.  Why did I have to touch him?  What if he thought I was hitting on him, or something?  Way to make things awkward, Juliet, you big dummy.

Confused, elated, and ext
remely self-conscious, I shake the incident out of my head.  Hoping for a distraction, I find Arianna and try to hug her in gratitude.  She reacts like I’ve thrown a spider in her face.  Hm, maybe I shouldn’t try to touch people anymore.  Clearly, I’m disgusting.

Never mind.  Here come a bunch of people who love it when I give hugs.  I open my arms wide for the herd of
Jubilee kids coming at me.

“Zool!”

Damn it.  They stole my shoe again.

******

Chapter 37

Dean, J
ohnny, and their parents are vacationing in Aspen over Christmas.  While they’re gone, I enlist Lorena, Mack, and Ryan’s help transporting Dean’s present to his room.  It’s a huge pain!  We have to drain most of the water out of the tank, and put the livestock in buckets—but the hardest part is moving the tank itself.  It’s huge, and takes all four of us to get it safely up the stairs.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just fill the tank up here, rather than lugging all these buckets?” Ryan grunts
, red and sweaty from trudging up and down the steps.

“It would, but then we’d have to wait four to six weeks before we could put anything in the aquarium,” I explain, out of breath myself.  “I started the tank last month.  For a saltwater aquarium, you have to
cycle the water and establish good bacteria.  You can’t just add everything at once, you have to…”

I trail off when I notice Ryan’s eyes starting to glaze over.
  He escapes back downstairs, and I go back to setting things up.  With Dean’s room being so bare, it’s easy to find the perfect spot for the aquarium, away from the windows.

“This must’ve cost you a fortune,”
Lorena says to me, watching me check the heaters.

“Actually, my dad bought the tank and most
of the equipment for me not too long ago.  He was gonna help me set it up, but we could never find the time—he lives in Hidden Cove.”  I shrug.  “I figure why let all this go to waste, right?”

“You think Dean will like it?”

“I hope so.  I mean, it’s a lot of work—you have to check the water every week.  But I could come over and do it for him until he got the hang of it.  And I know he’s leaving for college soon, but—what?”

I stop when I notice the weird smirk on her face.  When I raise my eyebrows at her, she just shakes her head, and walks away.  Okay…

It takes hours to put the aquarium back together.  Ryan, Lorena, and Mack go home after the  heavy lifting is done, but I hang around to inspect the finished product.  It looks good.  I mean, there’s only a few small wrasse fish in there right now—but I think the colorful rocks and coral more than make up for it.  I hope Dean likes it.  It can be a huge pain to maintain—we had a saltwater aquarium when Dad was living with us—but I liked doing it.  I hope Dean feels the same way.

Everything’s done, but I don’t leave yet.  I want to keep an eye on the tank for a few hours.  Also, I have a lit
tle more decorating to do.  I’ve ordered a couple of star kits online to stick on the ceiling—not the super-cheesy ones that you’d find in a kid’s bedroom.  These are self-adhesive little dots that actually give the illusion of a night sky.  At least, according to the pictures I saw on the website.  Hm, they don’t look like much now.

I have to ask
Jelena, the live-in housekeeper, for a stepladder to reach the ceiling—and it takes me over three hours to put up all the stars.  An hour into it, my arms feel ready to fall off, and I start second-guessing myself.  What if Dean hates all of it?  I could donate the tank to the rec, or something (I don’t want to think about moving that sucker again!), and the stars—what if he thinks they’re childish?  I’d have to come back here and scrape them off his ceiling.  Ugh.

I should’ve asked him before making these major changes to his bedroom.  How presumptuous of me.
  Oh, well.  I’m not stopping now.  If he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it.  And I’ll find a deep dark cave to hide in for a couple of months.

It’s dark by the time I’m done.  I pull the drapes over the windows and the sliding glass door so that the only light in the room comes from the peacefully lit tank,
and the glowing dots on the ceiling.  I lie on my back on the floor, pleased with the new ambience.  Not bad.  Really not bad.  I should get on Dean’s bed to get the whole experience, but I’ve never seen a bed that precisely made before, and I’m a little scared of it.

Jelena comes in to admire my work, and declares that Dean will love it.  As a bonus, she
tells me she used to work in an aquarium supply store, and would be more than happy to look after the tank while Dean is away.  Since she is way more knowledgeable than me on the subject, I gratefully agree.

Before I leave, I stick Johnny’s present under the huge elegantly decorated Christmas tree in
the family room.  I bought the Razorheads concert tickets months ago, and there’s no reason they should go to waste.  The Razorheads are his favorite band, and the seats are good ones.  It gives me a little pang, wondering who he’ll take to the concert in my place.  Only a little one, though, and I’m surprised to realize it doesn’t hurt.

I’m with Dad and Cerise for Christmas.  It’s Christmas Eve, and we’re staying the night at Michelle and Uncle Derek’s house.  Their little house is bursting with Christmas decorations, but I kind of think it’s compensation for the definite lack of cheer in its occupants.

I’m so happy to see Michelle again after weeks of not hearing from her.
  She tries her best to put up a good front, but the sparkle in her eyes is gone.  She looks…empty.  I feel so sad for her, and for Uncle Derek.  He looks as helpless as I feel.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but—t
hank goodness for Cerise.  She’s a one-woman cheering squad.  She is so determined that everyone have a good time, that I’m afraid not to.  Man, she’s a bouncy little thing.  I notice Uncle Derek noticing her perfect little figure as she jumps around, trying to get us to sing Christmas songs with her.  He catches me glaring at him, and looks away sheepishly.  Michelle sits on the couch like a statue, a smile pasted on her face.

The couch is ridiculously hard, and I just can’t get comfortable.  Which is why I’m awake to hear the knock on the door at about one in the morning. Burglars don’t knock first, right?

Stupidly, I’m more curious
than frightened as I tiptoe over to the door to see who it is.  I have a feeling it’s Derek’s soldier brother, back from Afghanistan as a Christmas surprise.

I open the door just wide enough to see who it is—then gasp in surprise.

“Dean!”

I blink at him in astonishment.  I must be dreaming.  Why would Dean Youngblood be
standing on my aunt’s porch—in Hidden Cove—when he’s suppose to be with his family in Aspen?

But there he is—
tall and slightly damp from the falling rain, with lost eyes and a vulnerable expression on his achingly handsome face.

“Merry Christmas, Juliet,” he says in his low rough voice.

I gape at him.  “What are you doing here?  Is everything okay?  Did something—?”

He sha
kes his head.  “Can we talk?”

“Um…sure.  Hold on a second.”

I dash back inside and grab Michelle’s sweater.  Putting it on, I slip back outside, closing the door behind me.  I start walking to the front of the house, where Dean’s truck is parked next to the streetlight, and he follows behind me.  It’s still raining, but I’d rather get a little wet than risk someone in the house waking up.

I lean against the side of his truck, hugging myself to stay warm.  “What’s going on, Dean?  Why are you here? 
How did you even know where I was?”

He stands in front of me,
he won’t look at me.  He runs a hand through his wet dark hair, and stares at the ground.  “I went by your house to drop of your Christmas present.  Your mom told me where you were.”  One side of his beautiful mouth quirks up in a smile.  “She complimented me on my flawless English.”

I feel a small jolt of alarm.  “You didn’t tell her who you re
ally are, did you?  She’d freak!  She’s the type that holds grudges, you know?”

“I didn’t tell her.  She didn’t really ask.”

“Oh.”  I squint at him, confused.  “So…
why
are you here?”

He finally lifts his head to give me a long searching look.  “I saw what you did to my room,” he says softly.

“Oh,” I say again.  I shift nervously.  “Um, did you like it?” I ask tentatively.

Crap, he didn’t.  He looks almost angry now
, staring at me.  “No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.”

“Okay,” I say after another anxious pause.  “Is that good or bad?”

He cracks a small smile.  “It’s good.”

I sigh in relief.  “Thank god.  I was hoping you’d like it.  And I can totally help you ta
ke care of the tank, if you want.  I was gonna get you more fish, but I figured I’d wait a couple of days, you know—oh, hey, why are you home so early?  I thought you guys weren’t coming back ‘til after New Years?”

“I came back alone,” Dean says.  “
Aspen wasn’t where I wanted to be.”

Something is happening here.  I’
m suddenly hyper aware of the slow-falling rain; the clean male scent of Dean—the way my heart is suddenly pounding in my chest. 

Oh, no…
 

He shifts restlessly in front of me, and for once, I can identify every emotion that crosses his features:  frustration, confus
ion, torment…the intensity of them scares me.  I have a very urgent desire to run away from him.  To stumble away from the edge before I’m pushed.