the belt secure.
I try not to flinch, but shivers run up my neck, and I think of his kiss. Then he moves his arm away and shuts the door. I feel eyes on me as he walks around to the other side. Not Reese’s eyes. Someone is watching me. My mind flashes to Tanni and her soulless eyes. Her words come to me. I try to push them away, but they’re too fast.
“What?” Reese is already in the car and fastening his own belt.
I try to erase thoughts of Tanni from my mind. “What what?” I say.
“You look like you saw a ghost.”
I shake my head. I’m half-tempted to tell Reese about Tanni, but I know anything I say will sound crazy. “I guess I am a little nervous.”
Reese puts his hand on mine, and his warmth erases Tanni’s words. “And gorgeous.”
Driving on the streets of downtown Austin at night is a far different experience than taking the shuttle during the day. For starters, his car is self-powered and doesn’t have to stay on any kind of track like the shuttles. Reese turns down streets I’ve never even seen, taking us through the park and behind the theatre which is lit up like a torch despite energy restrictions. And second, it seems on Friday nights, every person who lives here is outside, walking in the streets, heading into bars. Reese swerves around pedestrians until he finally pulls onto the bridge that takes us across the river. The city thermometer reads ninety-nine, and I can understand why there are so many people outside. With as hot as the days are, relief from the sun is a gift.
Reese stops on Sixth Street in front of a valet station, which clues me in to the fact that we’re not headed to your average restaurant. We get out, and he tips someone to take the car. Given it’s such a primo opportunity, two guys argue over who gets to drive it until Reese finally points at one of them. “You.”
The argument drops. The kid Reese pointed at jumps in the driver’s seat, and the car disappears around the corner. We walk into an old hotel and take an elevator to the top floor. The air’s probably fifteen degrees cooler in here meaning they must have real A/C. Or illegal A/C. I try not to look around and stare at everything. But I notice every detail’s been precisely chosen. The black and white tiles. The golden walls. The bronze statues of Greek gods on pedestals in the middle of the walkway.
Before I know it, we’ve reached a hostess stand. The hostess tries to tell us the restaurant is full, but Reese pulls out a bill and hands it to her; she smiles at him like he’s an angel and tells us a spot just came open. The sardonic smile she gives me tells me I’m not good enough to be here with Reese. Like she should be the one on a date. But she’s not. She’s only the hostess. Still, I don’t want to blink and wake up. I want to continue to defy my mom. And even though Chloe should be here in my place, a horrible part of me loves that I’m out with Reese. That he’s chosen me.
The hostess takes us to a table in the back near a window overlooking the city where I can see the Capitol and four of the dome structures extending into the sky. I wonder how different it looked last weekend when the domes were sealed.
“Nice view,” I say. “Good thing they were able to fit us in.”
Reese sets his elbows on the table, interlacing his fingers. “Bribery works every time. Watch. They won’t even card us.”
Sure enough, a sommelier comes over with a wine menu and begins to make some suggestions, but Reese puts up his hand and orders a bottle of aged Chianti. I know the wine must cost a fortune; grapes are so rare these days. But, like everything else, this doesn’t seem to be an issue with Reese. The sommelier nods and moves away, taking the wine menu with him.
I’ve certainly had wine before with my mom. But when the sommelier comes back with the bottle, shows it to Reese, and then uncorks it, I still can’t believe we didn’t get carded. Reese samples the bottle, nods, and tips the guy. I’m starting to notice a pattern. Large tips get you treated like a god.
Reese pours a glass and pushes it my way. I pick up the tall glass by the stem and dare to sniff it. It mixes with the aroma coming from Reese, and I realize I want to relax—to quench the flurry of excitement running through me, so I take a sip and sit back.
The wine does its job. It inches its way through my body, mixing with the butterflies in my stomach until the butterflies mellow and the wine settles in. I have a hard time making eye contact with Reese or even with the waiter, but I don’t mind. Just being out and away from my mom is intoxicating by itself.
Reese keeps trying to ply me for information about my life. When I try to explain my mom’s compulsive nature, he nods. “Like my mother.”
I shake my head. “No. My mom is way worse. She never lets me do anything.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Anything?”
I smile and take a bite of my steak, licking the juice off my lips. “Nothing.” I point to the steak. “She doesn’t even eat meat.”
“So I’m your first date.”
“You’re laughing at me,” I say.
He feigns shock. “Never.” He raises his hand, calling the sommelier over, and orders another bottle of Chianti.
I ignore the stray thought that runs through my mind. That I wish I were on a date with Shayne instead. But he hadn’t asked me. Reese had. And here I am.
“I’m not allowed to date,” I say.
“Why? What is your mom afraid you’ll do?”
“Maybe have fun?”
Reese laughs. ”Because having fun is bad, right?”
I shrug. “She just doesn’t want me to be away from her. She’s kind of possessive that way.”
Reese nods. It’s a truthful if not complete answer. But I see no need to mention my father or go deeper into my dysfunctional family situation.
“There was this time when I was little,” he says. “My sister and I got into this fight.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yeah. Unfortunately. She’s been a pain in the ass since the minute she sprang into existence.”
I’d be happy to have a sister, pain in the ass or not. “What did you guys fight about?”
Reese shifts back in his seat, and I can almost see him recollecting in his eyes. “It was when she was first allowed to do things without our parents. She was always tagging along. Wanted to do every single thing I wanted to do.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Chloe had told me how she’d been the same way when she was little.
He lifts his glass and takes another sip, so I do the same. “Yeah, at first it was kind of cute. But then she stole all my friends. Turned them against me.”
“I hardly believe that.”
But he’s not smiling, and I realize he’s not kidding.
The memory seems to shift back to one of humor. “So we started this whole practical joke thing.”
Which again to me sounds like fun. “My mom’s not big on jokes. She probably hasn’t laughed in ten years.”
“Be thankful,” he says. “First my sister took every single one of my toys and melted them. She was brutal. She burned down my tree house and blamed it on lightning.”
With global warming, fire is so against the law, the smallest penalty is five years. I arch my eyebrows to encourage him to continue.
“So I shaved her head one night when she was asleep.”
The image is a bit on the severe side. “Okay, so that does go beyond normal sibling rivalry.” Chloe’s brother had never shaved her head. But then again, she’d never burned anything of his.
Reese sets his glass down, and his eyes almost tear over. If I wasn’t seeing it, I would never believe it. “I haven’t talked to her in years. Some days it feels like forever.”
“I’m sorry,” I say because I’m not sure what else I can offer. My dad springs to mind. “It’s hard being alienated from family members.”
Reese refills my glass, and if there were any tears, they freeze in his eyes. “Trust me, in this case, it was totally necessary. Our house was a war zone. And my mom freaked.”
The idea of his mom freaking makes me realize I never want my mom to come back. And I never want the
