Idle Read online

  “If you want, I’ll pay your way. You’ll win that cash, I just know it, and it can open some options for you.”

  “Why would you do that for me?” I asked him.

  “Because you’re another human being, because I think there’s something special about you, because I could see us becoming great friends.” He looked back at me. “Is that enough of a reason?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. I swallowed. “But what if I lose your money?”

  “So what if you do?”

  “I’d feel bad.”

  He leaned back, resting his elbows on the stair I sat on. He looked up at me. “I wouldn’t have offered if I couldn’t afford it.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay, then. I’ll try it.”

  He smiled at me, a genuine smile, showing just enough of his teeth to send my stomach into loops. “I know the event organizer. The deadline to enter was a few weeks back, but I think if I vouch for you, he’ll let you in.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there.”

  He shoved my knee with his elbow, sending shivers down my spine. “Good.”

  Danny took Salinger to get his Jeep and I spent most of the day with Court and her cousin’s baby at Court’s house. Her cousin didn’t come to pick up her son until three the next afternoon. I chewed her out for leaving her baby that long without anything to eat or more diapers. The girl started cussing me out, her baby shaking on her hip with every dramatic arm swing she threw my way, and I felt a pang of horror knowing what the future held for that poor baby.

  Court rolled her eyes my direction and shrugged in a silent sorry to me. I decided I’d overstayed my welcome and bailed. When I went home, I noticed Sterling’s truck was missing. All the pent-up anxiety that’d built up on the drive over alleviated at once.

  “Mom, I’m home!” I called out.

  She came out from the kitchen into the small living room. “Where have you been, child?”

  “At Court’s,” I said, not giving any further information.

  She would have pretended it didn’t happen or tried to lessen it to make herself feel better, and I didn’t feel like getting incensed over watching her do that, so I dropped it.

  “Where are the girls?” I asked.

  “In their room. Can you watch them? There’s another shift available at the plant and I volunteered for it.”

  “Sure,” I said. “How you gonna get there?”

  “Walk, I guess.”

  “Why didn’t Sterling leave you his truck?”

  “I don’t know where Sterling went. He hasn’t been home since last night.”

  She glanced at my head, but didn’t dare ask what happened. She already knew.

  “You can take my car,” I offered.

  “Thanks, baby,” she said, catching my keys when I tossed them her direction.

  This was nice, yes, but it also made things a little dangerous if Sterling came home drunk because I didn’t have a way to escape. I was betting on him not to start anything since he loved to keep up a good appearance in front of my sisters.

  That was the most hilarious part to me about Sterling. He loved his girls. I mean, he really loved them. He was walking whiplash. He could backhand me across a room one second, flip a switch, and love and kiss on his girls the next. He didn’t like to upset them, so he tried to hold back when they were home. If I was being brutally honest, it was partly why I loved to babysit them. If my mom wasn’t home and it was just me taking care of them, he would ignore us for the most part. It was a reprieve.

  When he first started dating my mom, I was around seven. He was really nice to me. He’d bring me stuff, candy, and generally was a lot of fun, but as soon as my mom got pregnant with Eloise, he slipped a ring on that finger and turned into a completely different person. It was frightening to witness someone shed a facade like that to reveal the true version of themselves.

  Eloise, Callie, and I ate some ramen, watched a little television, then I bathed them and put them to bed. I changed my bandage then went into my room, closing the door behind me. I slid my tray from underneath my bed and rolled a joint. Even the crack of the lighter as I lit the end made me calm down. I took two deep hits then laid the blunt back down.

  I felt my nerves and muscles relax. I put the tray back under my bed, left a foot on the floor and laid back against the wall my bed sat on.

  My phone indicated a text, so I picked it up.

  Caught the director. He fought me a little, but I told him I would vouch for you personally. You’re in, Salinger wrote.

  That’s amazing. Thank you so much and I can’t wait.

  Five minutes passed before my phone indicated another text.

  What are you doing? he asked.

  My heart raced.

  Just sitting here. What are you doing?

  Wanna hang?

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it.

  I’m babysitting my little sisters. Maybe tomorrow?

  Yeah. I want to take you into the city. I know of a cool park with a few marble chess tables. We can practice for Saturday.

  Sounds good. What time? I asked, feeling happier than I cared to admit.

  I don’t know. Noon?

  Sounds good. I’ll meet you at the market at noon?

  See you then

  I laid my phone down and enjoyed the butterflies Salinger gave me. He made me forget stuff. For the first time in a really long time, I looked forward to something.

  CHAPTER SIX

  If I were to guess, I’d place Salinger’s height around six foot three. He had thin hazel eyes, high cheekbones, and fair skin. His hair was pitch black, straight as an arrow, and fell just below his ears. He parted it down the middle and tucked both sides behind his ears.

  That afternoon, the afternoon we were to play chess, he wore a pair of worn jeans and a T-shirt with a cardigan over it with a pair of white Adidas. I immediately thought of how I wanted to steal his cardigan, wrap it around myself, smell it. He was so amazing.

  When I pulled into the parking lot, he came bounding up to my car and opened my door for me.

  “Thanks,” I said as he helped me down.

  “Hey,” he greeted with a smile. “How’s your noggin?” he asked, lifting my hair to inspect the damage.

  “It’s better.”

  “How do you feel?” he asked. “Up for some chess?”

  I looked up at him. I was a good foot shorter than he was. I was underweight. He was right when he guessed I didn’t eat very much, but it wasn’t from lack of trying, I assure you. Also, because of this, I had small boobs and cheekbones that stuck out a little too much, lending me a gaunt feel. I did have good hair, though. That, at least, I had. It reached my waist and was a smoky lilac color. I’d curled large waves into it before I left and used almost all of the last of the makeup I had.

  The summer before, I’d gone to the thrift store in Smithfield, the next town over, with Katie because it was a more affluent area and the stuff there was much nicer than what we could find nearby. I wore a pair of black, fitted overalls, tapered at the legs, with a split hem, that I’d bought that day. I paired it with a white T-shirt. I didn’t have any money, but I tried to make what I already owned work. I had a bunch of different necklaces I’d collected over the years and piled them on top of each other, hoping to distract from the fact they were cheap. I topped it off with a pair of black ankle boots Katie had let me borrow. I hoped it worked.

  “I’m good. I’m ready,” I told him.

  He led me over to his Jeep, placing a hand on my lower back, making my skin tingle there and butterflies crowd my stomach. He opened my door for me and helped me in. He rounded the front and got in the driver’s seat.

  It was more than an hour’s drive to the park with the marble chess tables, but it was worth it. The park was stunning with lots of fresh, bright green grass, tall, billowy trees shaded the chess area, which sat on gravel and stone. Wood folding chairs sat on a cart that read Woodcreek Recreation Center. Both of us grabbed a chair and picke
d an ideal spot, settling in.

  Salinger had his own chess pieces he’d brought with him. They were heavy, looked to be made of stone, and were stored in a leather folding pouch that tied together with bits of leather string. I reached out, running my newly manicured fingers, thanks to Katie, over the worn leather and each piece laid side by side.

  “That’s beautiful,” I told him.

  “Thank you,” he said, placing the pieces between us. “They were my great-grandpa’s.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “Yeah, he was a cool dude. Fought in Korea where he met my great-grandmother. They got hitched when they were both nineteen and he brought her back over with him.” He sat back in his chair and stared up into the trees. “They were married seventy years. When she died, he passed two weeks later.”

  “Couldn’t live without her then.”

  “Couldn’t live without her,” he confirmed.

  “That’s beautiful too,” I told him.

  He smiled in answer and it stopped my heart a little.

  We started playing one another but kept up the conversation.

  “You look really pretty, Lily,” he told me, his gaze roaming the board.

  For some inexplicable reason, that made my eyes sting. I blinked hard to work through it.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “When did you graduate?” he asked me, making a move.

  “Last year.”

  “Last year?” he asked, his voice an octave higher in what I assumed was disbelief.

  “Yeah,” I laughed.

  “How old are you?”

  “Nineteen,” I answered. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “Cool.”

  “You’re so young,” he remarked, which made me laugh.

  “Only four years younger than you.”

  He shook his head. “No, I meant you’re so young for having so much talent at this game.”

  I beamed a little. “Thank you.” I cleared my throat. “Checkmate.”

  He laughed. Like, genuinely laughed really loud. He fell back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair then down his face. “Let’s go again,” he said, sitting back up, the biggest grin on his mouth.

  We set the board back up.

  “What time is the tournament?” I asked him.

  “Ten in the a.m. Want me to pick you up?”

  I imagined Salinger pulling up to my shack of a house, getting stared at by Sterling, then my being on the receiving end of an elbow to an eye when I walked back in after the tournament.

  “Nah,” I said, trying to stay casual, “I’ll just meet you there. Text me the address.”

  “Cool,” he said, nodding his head.

  His index finger landed on a pawn but he thought better of it then wrapped his long fingers around the back of his head. He perused the board.

  “I really like playing chess with you.”

  “It’s a rush,” I said. “Way more fun than with a computer.”

  He looked at me, a crooked smile fell across his face. “What’s your last name?”

  “Hahn. Yours?”

  “Park.”

  I nodded and made a move.

  “Where are you from?” I asked.

  “I was born on an army base in Germany. My dad was in the military and we moved around a lot.”

  “Is that why you don’t like to stay in one place too long?” I asked him.

  He blew out a deep breath. “Uh, no. I hated moving around that much and I never got used to it.”

  “What?” I was confused. “Then why keep moving around now?”

  A small smile fell across his lips. “I just haven’t found a place that feels like home yet. I give them a year and then I find somewhere else.”

  “You’ve never been anywhere any time and felt as if you were home?”

  “No,” he told me without further explanation.

  I waited until his eyes met mine and when they did, my heart sped up. “Neither have I,” I confessed.

  “It’s sort of an empty feeling, isn’t it?” he asked me.

  “Yes,” I offered. “So you keep searching,” I observed.

  A gust of wind blew the treetops around us and he glanced up at them. “Always searching,” he told the trees.

  “I’ve never bothered looking,” I revealed.

  “You should change that.”

  “No money. No idea where I’d go.”

  “It’s a risk, I admit it, but risk can be adventurous.”

  It was quiet for a few minutes as we concentrated on playing.

  “How do you know Noah?” I asked.

  “I answered his ad for tutoring online. He needed help in a math class so I helped him out. We stayed friends.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “Yeah, Noah’s awesome.” He looked up from the board. “Is, uh, well… You and Ansen seem close.”

  “Yeah, we grew up together. He’s like family.”

  “Ah, I see. He takes good care of you.”

  “Yeah, when he can. I try not to rely too terribly much on him. His girlfriend Katie is a good friend of mine too, and I don’t like making her uncomfortable.”

  “I get it.”

  “Any siblings?” I asked.

  “None,” he answered. “You?”

  “Yeah, I have two little sisters. Eloise and Callie. Eight and six.”

  “Cool,” he said.

  “They’re Sterling’s daughters.”

  He looked up at me, his jaw gritted.

  “I see,” he said. “Does he, uh, does he—”

  “No, he doesn’t touch them, um, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Salinger’s whole body sat eerily still. “And your mom?”

  My face flamed white hot. “Uh, well, no,” I gulped.

  “I see,” he said. He was trying to keep his voice steady, I could tell. “So it’s just you he can’t keep from hurting then?”

  It was my turn, but my hand stilled on the king’s knight my finger rested on. I audibly swallowed. “Yes,” was all I could answer.

  “And what does your mom think about it?”

  I started to feel uncomfortable, so I shifted in my chair. “Salinger, I—”

  “Tell me,” he said, sitting back, forgetting the game, “at what point in your life do you think you’re going to do something? At what point will you say enough is enough?”

  “I’m not a project, Salinger, remember?”

  “Is that what human beings are to you? Projects?”

  He caught me off guard. “No, I just mean—”

  “And what would you do if you were me, huh?”

  “I’d mind my own business.”

  “That’s alarming,” he observed.

  “No, it’s not,” I told him. “I live with this very real reality. You shake things up and you make it worse for me.”

  “No, Lily, when I shake things up for him, he will know not to lay a single finger on you again.”

  “You can’t; you’re going to get me killed,” I whispered.

  “Sterling, or whatever the hell that asshole’s name is, he’s going to fear the ever-living hell out of me because that seems to be the only thing men like him respect. So today, when I drop you off at your car, I want you to let me follow you to your house. I wanna have a talk with him.”

  I started to hyperventilate. “He’ll kill you.”

  “No, he won’t.”

  “He’ll kill me.”

  Salinger leaned forward. “No,” he whispered with quiet intensity, “he most definitely will not.”

  “Stop,” I begged.

  “No, you stop. You think this guy won’t graduate to worse? Because he will, and one day he’ll lay you out and you won’t get back up, Lily.”

  My eyes burned. I knew he was right, but I had no where to go and no money and I knew if I’d left I’d be completely alone because I’d have to leave Bottle County just so he couldn’t find me or have the sheriff drag
me back home.

  “Drop this,” I insisted.

  “No.”

  “Drop this right now, Salinger,” I said, my face and neck growing hot.

  “Then stay the night on my couch, at least, just so we can figure out a plan for you.”

  “No,” I said, going back to the game.

  “You’re not even going to try to help yourself?” he asked me.

  “If I stay the night anywhere but home, he beats me worse the next day. I’d rather avoid it.”

  “Then don’t go back home ever. Just stay with me or whatever. I’ll actually help you.”

  “You mean help me into your bed, right?” I asked, saying exactly what I was thinking. He acted like I’d hit him. “Please, Salinger, wipe that look off your face. That’s how all men are.”

  “That’s most men,” he said, defending himself. “I’m not most men, Lily.”

  “How would I know that? I don’t know you. I just met you. You want to know how many times a boy has told me he loves me but when I refuse to sleep with him, bails? Do you know how many times a boy has promised to help me then realized I couldn’t or wouldn’t give anything to him and left? Do you know that percentage?” I asked him.

  “No,” he whispered.

  “One hundred percent. One hundred percent of them.”

  “And Ansen?” he countered.

  “He’s the exception to the rule,” I dismissed. “And even Ansen would drop me like that,” I snapped, “if Katie called on him. That’s the way it should be, though. I’m not complaining. I’m just saying even the exception to the rule isn’t infallible.”

  “But you can admit they exist, though, don’t they, exceptions to the rule?”

  “Yeah, but they’re so rare, so impossible to find he might as well be the only one.”

  “Not true,” he argued, “he’s not the only one. There are lots of good guys out there and they’re waiting, wading through life, and waiting. You’re looking in all the wrong places.”

  “I’ve looked everywhere.”

  “No, you’ve looked in this shallow pool you call Bottle County. You’ve looked nowhere else and you want to know something else?” he said, folding his arms across his chest, “those good men, they’re just waiting for you to make them even better. Men are malleable, way more malleable than you could possibly imagine. If you promise loyalty, the good ones will move mountains for you. The only thing unchanging would be their own loyalty and whatever moral compass they live by. Other than those two things, you would own them. That is how men work and that, as you said, is how it should be. God, if girls only knew the power they possessed.”