Castles On The Sand Part 8

"Because she claims we were seeing the same guy."

"The guy you were talking to when I showed up?"

"Yeah."

He nods. "Okay, so what happened after she kicked you?"

"I stayed home from school a couple of days and then when I went back today, JP wanted to talk so we were talking and you showed up." My heart gives a little flutter when I use his nickname. It's the first time.

"Please tell me you aren't going to be involved with him."

"Mind your own business."

"I want to, but for what it's worth, he gave a real bad impression."

"You sure you're not racist?"

"Yeah. Seriously, the guy could be fluorescent blue for all I care. It's that he mocked me for being protective of you. He should've shown some respect."

I roll my eyes.

"It's a guy thing."

"What, a territorial thing?"

"No. Like I said, it's a respect thing."

"Fine."

"And the not wanting to call you his girlfriend..."

I turn my gaze to Wilkstone Drive and the little gift shop across the way that sells postcards and knickknacks.

"How do you feel about that?" he says.

"Like I don't know. This is all new to me."

"Okay, so are you dating him right now?"

"I don't know."

He holds up his hands. "All right. Well, if you ever want to talk to me about this, please do."

I can't imagine I ever would. I've already said more than is any of his business.

"Can I have your phone number?" he says.

"I guess."

"I don't have one yet. I'll text you when I get one." He hands me a piece of paper and a pen to jot mine down, so I do.

"And... can I hug you?"

I'm not much of a cuddler. Mom's a very hands off kind of person, but I remind myself that John will leave in a few more minutes and he has waited fifteen years to see me again, so I guess it's only polite. "Okay." I step forward, put my arms around him, and pat him awkwardly on the back.

He pulls me in, rests his cheek against my forehead, and holds me for a long moment. "I've missed you so much, you have no idea."

The hug isn't as uncomfortable as I feared. In fact, it feels pretty nice. "I'm probably a lot different now."

"Sure, but you're still you. You're still my little sister."

I sense he's about to get condescending again and pull away. He lets me go without protest.

"I'm sorry I didn't email you earlier," he says. "I didn't want to just bombard you with a million questions, but I want to know everything about how you've been, what's happened as you've grown up, everything."

"I'm not that interesting."

"To me you are. And howabout you? There anything you want to know about me?"

"Um, I'm still trying to come to grips with you existing."

"That would make sense, yeah. You want me to send you pictures of our brothers and stuff like that?"

"Okay."

"And anything else, just ask."

I nod.

He presses his palms together and touches them edge on to his lips for a moment, just like he did a few days ago when he stood on my doorstep. "It really is amazing to see you again. I love you so much."

No guy has ever used the l-word with me. It sounds strange and more than a little stifling.

But he doesn't seem to need me to say it back. The MAV drives past and pulls into Jacksons.

"That's my ride," he says.

"Carson's taking you to Sacramento?"

"To the bus stop." He smiles. "Bus to Sacramento, spend the night there, fly out tomorrow."

"Well, have a good trip."

"Thanks. Bye." He says it like it's hard to say, like he's worried he'll never see me again.

Annoying as he's been, I walk with him to Jacksons, where Carson looks up at us from the gas pump and nods. "Hey, Madison."

My brother looks back and forth between us.

"Hi Carson. Bye John."

"Bye. Hey, listen. It's a miracle that I found you."

That's nice, I think.

"But then again, our G.o.d is a G.o.d of miracles."

Yeah, that's what I was afraid of, that he'd get all preachy. I give him one last hug, which he seems to truly appreciate, and then head for home before he can say anything else.

That evening Mom comes in with a preoccupied air. She washes her hands in the kitchen sink, which she never does because the clay can wreak havoc on the plumbing.

"So," I begin, "I'm sorry that I sent John to find you. He was asking all these questions and-"

Mom reaches into the cupboard and pulls out a small box, which she tosses onto the table. Condoms. "You bring boys in at night, you use those. I don't need another mouth to feed around here."

I stare down at the box, unsure what to say for a moment.

"And don't ever send your brother around to bother me again. He's dead to me. I don't need him criticizing how I live my life."

"What did he do? Preach?"

"He didn't like me buying those. Said that having overnight guests set a bad example for you. So I told him they were for you-"

"You told him you bought these for me?"

"Mhm."

"Was this during the really loud fight outside Jacksons?" My cheeks burn with embarra.s.sment.

"No. It was before that part. But you will use those and not get pregnant. We clear?"

"Mom, I am not ready for anything like that."

"I was eighteen when I had my first baby, so don't give me some silly excuse about not being ready."

"I didn't mean-"

"I'm gonna hit the hay." She walks off as if she hasn't even heard me and goes to her room.

I go back into my room and put the box of condoms in my desk drawer, then wonder if I should have one on me at all times, as random as that sounds. It's what they tell us to do in health cla.s.s. Knowing me, though, I'd pull something else out of my pocket and it'd go flying and probably hit some cute guy in the forehead. Best to just leave them where they are.

A couple of hours later, a tap on my window wakes me up. No, I think, not now. Whoever it is, I don't want to see them.

"Madison?" It isn't Kailie's voice, or Jean-Pierre's. I glance at my clock and see that it's only ten thirty.

"Who is it?" I say.

"It's Carson."

I get to my knees, pull the curtain aside, and flip the window latch. Carson stands in the rock garden, his hands in the pockets of his khakis, looking like a total preppie, which he is, I guess. Our school is well funded enough to be almost like a prep school. "How's your nose?" he asks.

"It hurts," I say.

"Yeah, I can imagine."

I touch my face, gingerly, then fold my arms.

"John told me the gist of what happened. Maybe it's time to get a new best friend?"

"You don't know the whole story."

"n.o.body deserves what you got. Did you report her to the police?"

"What? No."

"You should think about it."

"Sure. I'll think about it." There's no way I'm reporting my best friend to the police. I look past Carson to the street.

He glances over his shoulder. "Hmm?"

"Did you walk here?"

"Yeah. I thought, you know, bringing the MAV woulda been kinda excessive."

"You call it the MAV?"

"Yeah. Doesn't everyone?"

"You live clear down at the other end of town."

"My family all go to bed at eight." At my baffled stare, he adds, "Because, you know, we have Seminary in the mornings."

"Seminary?"

"Yeah, religion cla.s.s before school. That's why all of us LDS students arrive in the MAV... what, did you think we just did that to be... um..." He stares at me.

"Weird?"

"Yeah, which we are. But not in a hive mind, we go everywhere together kind of way."

"How does your family run a restaurant if you go to bed at eight?"

"Well, okay, our parents manage the restaurant and get home at about one and our grandmother watches us but she's deaf as a post." He shrugs. "So I have until one before I get caught. Anyway... what are you doing?"

I'm across the room now and turn to look at him again, a pair of jeans and a clean shirt draped over my arm. "Just let me change. I'll come out."

"You don't have to do that."