The door behind Aden creaked open, and he turned, spying Shannon. Shannon saw his shirt and gazed guiltily at the ground. Guess that meant he’d been involved. Aden capped his anger again and headed for the truck, meeting Dan at the door.
Dan noticed his shirt and frowned. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
There was a heavy pause. “You sure?”
He nodded.
Dan sighed, unlocked the door. Aden slid inside, scooting to the middle. By the time Dan claimed the driver’s seat and Shannon the passenger’s, he felt completely penned in. Thank God it was only an eight-minute and thirty-three second drive—not that he was keeping track or anything. When they were parked in front of the school, Dan faced them.
“Here’s your lunch,” he said. “Peanut butter and jelly. It’ll have to do for today. Tomorrow, Meg will pack you something better. Now, listen. Mess up, and you’re out.”
Great. They were about to get the same lecture they’d gotten at the supercenter.
“I’m not kidding,” Dan continued. “If you skip class, pick a fight, hell, if one of your teachers thinks you’re looking at him wrong, I will pull you from school so quickly your head will spin. Understand?”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
“Good. Shannon, you’ve got your schedule and can head to your first class. Aden, you go to the guidance office. School ends at three and it’s only a thirty-minute walk home. I’ll give you forty-five in case you’re held up by a teacher or something, but if you’re not home in time … “
You’ll be out, Aden finished for him.
Shannon filed from the truck and when Aden tried to do the same, Dan grabbed his arm. Total déjà vu. Only, Dan didn’t give him another lecture like he had at the store. He merely smiled. “Good luck, Aden. Don’t let me down in there.”
FIVE
THE DAY BEGAN like any other for Mary Ann. She crawled out of bed, showered, tugged on the clothes she’d laid out the night before, and blew dry her hair while outlining what she needed to turn in or which upcoming tests to study for. This week’s most important exam was chemistry, one of her hardest subjects. Only problem was, thoughts of Aden Stone kept interfering.
Penny had admitted to giving him Mary Ann’s number. So why hadn’t he called? An entire week had passed. Part of her had expected it and had jumped every time her phone had rung. He’d seemed so eager to talk to her. The other part of her, however, had hoped that he wouldn’t contact her. He was gorgeous, but after that first initial attraction, she’d felt only confused and friendly toward him—when she wasn’t experiencing that strange urge to run.
Did she even want to be his friend? Being near him was like being punched in the chest; her body only wanted to escape him. Her mind, though … it mourned his loss. Mourned, as if he were somehow dear to her.
Steam began to rise from her scalp, and she hurriedly switched the dryer off. She had to stop thinking of that boy. Already he was screwing with her mind, making it mush—proving that she’d been right to date Tucker and stay with him these last few months. Tucker always made her feel pretty, boosting her self-esteem, but he didn’t consume her. He gave her the space she needed.
With a sigh, she trudged downstairs. Her dad had breakfast ready: pecan waffles with blueberry syrup. She ate two while he read the paper and drank his coffee. Their usual routine.
“Want a ride to school?” he asked. He folded his paper and set it aside, peering over at her expectantly.
He always knew when she’d finished eating without being told.
“Nah. Walking will increase the amount of oxygen in my brain, which will help as I mentally pore through my notes about synthesizing iodide.” Which was also the reason she didn’t ride with Tucker, though he, too, always offered. He liked to chat and that would have distracted her. Penny was perpetually late, so she was a no-go, as well.
Her dad’s lips twitched into a smile, and he shook his head. “Always studying.”
When he smiled like that his entire face lit up and she could see why her friends crushed on him. In looks, he was her opposite. He had blond hair and blue eyes, was brawny where she was slim. The only thing they had in common was their youth (or so he was fond of saying). He was only thirty-five, which was young for a parent. (Again, words straight from his mouth.) He’d married her mom soon after high school and they’d had her right away.
Maybe that’s why they’d married. Because of her. That wasn’t why they’d stayed together, though. Oh, they’d fought a lot but they’d clearly loved each other. The way they’d stared over at each other, expressions soft, had been proof of that. But sometimes, because of the things they’d verbally hurled at each other, Mary Ann used to suspect her dad had cheated on her mom and her mother had never gotten over it.
“You wish I was her, don’t you?” her mother had liked to shout at him.
He’d always denied it.
For many years, Mary Ann had resented him for the possibility. Her sweet mother hadn’t worked, had stayed home and taken care of Mary Ann, the house and all the chores. But when she had died, his utter despondency convinced Mary Ann of his innocence. Plus, he’d been alone now for several years. He hadn’t gone on a single date. Hadn’t even glanced at another woman.
“You remind me more of your mom every day,” he said, his mind obviously taking the same path hers had. His eyes were glazed with memories, his mouth soft with a smile. “Not just in appearance, either. She loved chemistry, too.”
“Are you kidding? She hated math, and chemistry is filled with little equations that would have driven her insane.” The only homework her mom had been able to help her with was English and art. “Besides, who said I loved chemistry? I do it because it’s necessary.”
Mary Ann knew what he was doing, though. Lying to make her feel closer to her mom, as if death didn’t separate them. She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll never forget her.”
“I know,” he said softly. “I’m glad. She was an amazing woman who turned this house into a home.”
Soon after her dad opened his own practice, they’d had the money to buy this two-story estate. Her mom had been ecstatic. She and her sister, Anne, Mary Ann’s namesake who’d died before Mary Ann was born, had grown up poor and this had been her first taste of wealth. Her mom had turned the walls from stark white to inviting colors, and had hung up photos of the three of them. She’d saturated the once stifling air with the scent of her sweet perfume and had warmed the cold tile with plush, multihued rugs.
Her father cleared his throat, bringing them both back from their memories. “I have to work late tonight. You’ll be okay?”
“Absolutely. I plan to finish reading that article on ADD and OCD. It’s pretty interesting. I mean, did you know that thirty-four percent of kids with—”
“Dear God, I’ve created a monster.” He reached over and mussed her hair. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, honey, but you need to get out more. Live a little. Several of my patients see me for this very reason, not realizing the stress they’ve placed upon themselves has begun to wear them down, that time off heals just as much as laughter. Honestly, even I go on vacation. You’re sixteen. You should be reading books about wizard boys and gossipy girls.”
She frowned. She’d read the article to impress him, and now he didn’t want to hear about it? Now he wanted her head buried in fiction? “I’m expanding