“Not yet. I’m at Spencer’s. How far out are you? Why don’t you call Summer, see if she’s there?”
“It’s okay. I’ll be there in just a few minutes. This wind is pushing me along, making me go faster. It’s kind of cool.”
I hear a man’s voice in the background asking if he’s talking to his girlfriend, followed by a dozen kissing sounds.
“What are you, twelve? She’s not my girlfriend. Get your label fetished mind out of here, and get back to work.”
I know King’s words would hurt me regardless, but they seem to compound Charleigh’s previous accusations, causing them to burn even deeper.
“Sorry, Spencer’s a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that. Alright, well it’s kind of hard to hear you, so I’m going to let you go.”
“Are you upset?”
“No, why would I be upset?”
“You sound upset.”
“It’s just the storm. I’m fine. I’ll see you later.” I hang up before he has the opportunity to reply. Saturday night I was disappointed my dress required Allie’s assistance to remove. If it hadn’t, I have few doubts I would have ended up sleeping with King again. Now, I’m so relieved I could kiss her.
I beat Mercedes home. Knowing her carpool is set to arrive at any minute, I set a pot of milk on the stove to boil for cocoa, confident the marshmallow cream I just found in the pantry will at least make my stomach feel better.
Mercedes arrives with her carpool friends unloading from the minivan, and a yelled promise that they won’t play too late as they head toward the shop. The mother of one of the girls shares a cup of hot chocolate with me, making things awkward when she starts asking too many questions about Kash.
When the weather worsens, the mom compiles the girls, and Mercedes and I spend the afternoon watching shows made for young teenagers that I am ashamed to admit I’ve grown quite fond of, even anticipating watching them with her to see what’s going to happen next. I’m pretty sure this is another sign that I need a best friend, one who was at least born in the same decade as me.
“I’m going to put a load of laundry in really fast,” I say, standing from the couch as Mercedes delays the next show so she can text someone on her phone with no opposition.
“Lo!” Mercedes screams as I push start on the washer.
I take the stairs two at a time to the main level and find her at the top, waiting for me, her arms crossed over her chest and face pale.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you hear that?”
The house lights up, quickly followed by a loud crash of thunder that has Mercedes jumping.
“It’s okay. It’s just the storm.” My voice is too quiet and unsteady to assure either of us, but she doesn’t object.
I reach out and lock the front door as we pass it, and lead her back into the living room, turning on more lights. The rain seems to be actively trying to find a way inside as it pounds against the windows and roof. Rather than wait for Mercedes to consider what we should do, I sit her back on the couch and reach for the remote, flipping through the DVR to the lightest, most comedic and usually obnoxious show that I can find.
Four episodes later, the storm still seems at full force, the thunder and lightning dancing to a terrifying melody that the rain makes every attempt to interrupt.
“Do you think my dad and King are okay?” I hate that she’s bringing to light the same question I’ve been working to avoid all night.
“Yeah, I’m sure they’re on their way now.”
“You won’t leave, right?”
“No. Of course not! Storm or no storm, I won’t leave you if they’re not home. Ever.”
Mercedes jumps as another loud clap of thunder sends a slight vibration through the house. “It’s getting worse.” Impossibly, it is.
With all of the cleaning I’ve done in this house, I can’t recall having ever seen storm supplies. I try to hide my concerns and take a deep breath. “Do you guys have flashlights, Mercedes?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just in case the power goes out.”
Her chin juts back as though my words have slapped her. “No.” Her glare is set between anger and refusal. “The power can’t go out! I don’t want to be alone in the dark without my dad.”
“It’s okay. It probably won’t. We’re just going to be ready.”
“Being ready sucks,” she mumbles. Her movements look reluctant as she drags her feet slowly across the wood floor in the direction of the office.
“They’re all in here somewhere,” she says, opening a drawer of the desk.
My lips draw down in a frown. It’s King’s desk of all places we’re going to be digging through. Another roar of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning that illuminates the yard, quickly buries my indecision, and I step beside Mercedes and start rifling through a drawer.
We find two large flashlights and a much smaller one with a keychain that I consider leaving before I flip it on and notice the beam hits halfway down the hall. I pocket it and push the button on each of the larger flashlights to find that both are thankfully working.
“Let’s go make some dinner, and then we’ll play a game or something.”
“You totally think the power is going out, don’t you?” Mercedes doesn’t even look to me for a response. We both seem to realize this storm is going nowhere anytime soon.
“I don’t know.” My shoulders bunch and my eyebrows rise to reflect how unsure I am. “I just think that if it does, it’s probably a better idea that we get some food cooked. Unless you want to test out that magical wand I found.”
“Funny, Lo. Very funny.” Mercedes’ mouth is pulled down in a frown and her eyes shut before she shakes her head. A few months ago I would have found this reaction to be rude and annoying. Now it makes me laugh and reach forward to tickle her.
“I’ll show you funny.”
“No, Lo! Don’t! I’m sorry!” she squeals, grasping my arms with both of her hands. “I’m sorry!” A soft laugh follows her words and has me staring at her features, seeing both Kash and King in her high cheekbones. I have only seen a few pictures of her mom, but I know that her green eyes and lashes that seem impossible with how long they reach, are from her. Mercedes’ smile spreads wide and then she falls against my side, wrapping both her arms around my waist and hugging me tightly.
I’m the youngest in my family of non-expressive lovers. Hugs were rarer than the occasional ‘I love you’s,’ yet holding her to me like she’s mine to shelter and care for is natural and even feels good.
“What should we make?” I ask.
“What will you not burn?”
“Hey!” I protest, snaking my hand to her armpit. “I haven’t burned anything in a few weeks! Give me some credit!”
She giggles as my fingers find their target and wiggles to get free.
“How about that pasta you made last week with the weird green stuff?”
“The pesto and sundried tomato stuff?”
“Yeah.”
I don’t make any attempt to hide my smirk as she looks at me and then nods. “Yeah, we can make the weird green stuff again.”
Mercedes makes herself comfortable in the living room as I scour the fridge, pulling out the ingredients I used last time and some new ones that I think may be a good contribution.
I’m adding the cheese to the sauce when the door shuts with a cough of complaints and the rustling of fabric. Without thought, my hands release the grater and cheese, my feet migrating to the quickest path to the door where Mercedes meets me.
“King!” She throws herself against his chest, though he’s visibly wet. “Where’s my dad?” She pulls her head back, desperate for assurance.
His eyes scan over her, a hand settling in the middle of her shoulders. “He’s at Summer’s. Roads are closing. He’ll be back in the morning.” King scans the room as he finishes assuring her, settling on me. He’s staring at me, searching for something
“He’s not answering his phone,” Mercedes objects without wasting a moment.