Lucy and Meg huddled close together on the bench, trying to steal a little bit of the other’s warmth. The bus shelter shivered and groaned behind them. The cracked, warped plastic did very little to hold back the whipping, winter wind.
“If…this…bus…doesn’t…come soon,” Lucy said between chattering teeth. “We’re going to freeze.”
They were the only people at the bus stop. Most schools had canceled, not wanting to risk the treacherous roads. Rose had been the one holdout, insisting on dragging their girls through the ice and snow. Elena was at home with a strep throat, and Johanne, the sensible girl that she was, had waited in the icy rain for five minutes before giving up and walking away.
Lucy and Meg had stayed, waiting for the bus to arrive. Lucy, because she cared about school, and Meg because she had nowhere else to go.
“I’m going to murder Charlie.”
Rose had promised a timely, clean, and safe ride for their urban commuters, but their school bus was often late. On nice days, Charlie, their driver, would get distracted. The temptation to linger at the Dunkin’ Donuts counter was just too great for him to resist. On snowy days, he didn’t show up at all, blaming insufficiently plowed suburban roads and letting concern for his safety outweigh his job responsibilities.
Meg couldn’t blame him. The few cars that were on the road slid all over the ice, their tires smoking as they spun. Who would be crazy enough to drive in this?
Lucy was grumbling underneath her black knitted scarf. It was speckled with ice or frozen snot.
“Everything OK under there?” Meg asked. She’d forgotten her scarf, and talking kept the muscles in her face from freezing solid.
“No. Everything is miserable,” Lucy answered. “I broke up with Scott.”
“What? Why?”
“I always thought Scott was one of those still waters run deep sort of guys. I thought there was more than just that beautiful exterior, you know? But that’s pretty much all he is, just a gorgeous body.”
Meg found herself filling with anger. All that work, all that scheming, and Lucy was tired of Scott after a couple of weeks! Not to mention Elena’s sacrificed virginity, about which Meg still felt terrible. No one in their right mind would want their first time to be with gangly, awkward Zach. If Meg hadn’t talked her into it, Elena would never have even kissed him.
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s a beautiful body, but Scott isn’t deep water. He’s a shallow little puddle. Now, puddles can be a lot of fun to splash in, and they can look really pretty with the sunlight reflecting off them, making rainbows and shit.” Lucy smirked, and her lipstick smudged a little bit. She pulled out a tissue and dabbed at the corner of her mouth. “But puddles usually have an icky film across them, and while you’re stomping away, you realize you’re standing in a stagnant little pool of filth.”
“So. It’s over,” Meg muttered, cutting to the chase.
“It’s over,” Lucy agreed. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. But I hate being alone. I need to find someone new. Soon.”
A car pulled up to the curb, idling in the bus-only section. The car’s window was rolled down, and a blast of hot air drifted over to her. It was stuffy and smelled like exhaust, but to Meg, it was as warm as a tropical beach. She closed her eyes and imagined a golden-skinned pool boy was handing her a fruity drink with an umbrella. She could almost see the ice melting in the glass.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Ian leaning out of the open car window. He was much pastier than her imaginary pool boy, but ten times more appealing. He had a mischievous little grin on his face, and the freezing rain had dusted his hair, making him look crowned in ice.
“Wow.” He rubbed his chin with his thumb. “Those ice sculptures are remarkably lifelike.”
“Cute,” Lucy grumbled.
“Cute?” Ian straightened, smiling.
Lucy stared him down. “I don’t have the energy to insult you properly. And my uvula has frozen to back of my throat.”
“At least the frostbite hasn’t claimed your eye-rolling ability,” Ian replied, cheerful as always. “Did Flynn’s bus already leave?”
“His school canceled,” Meg told him. She smiled despite her chattering teeth. Just seeing him warmed her a little bit.
“The two of you weren’t so lucky, huh?” When Meg shook her head, he added: “Can I give you a lift?”
Meg leaped to her feet, but Lucy wasn’t moving.
“I don’t know, can you? That car looks like drunken toddlers assembled it.”
Ian reached down and patted the dented door.
“I did pay for it with goldfish crackers soaked in rum.” His smile didn’t waver. “Get in, Lucy. She’s ugly as sin, but she runs.”
“And she’s warm,” Meg whispered to Lucy.
Lucy stewed for a bit and then got up. Reluctantly. Meg didn’t move until Lucy gathered her things. Then she skipped like a little kid, sliding a bit on the ice, all the way to Ian’s car. Lucy trudged behind her. She pulled the back door handle, but it wouldn’t open until Ian reached back and pushed it open from the inside. Lucy paused, reconsidering, but Meg raised both hands and shoved her inside.
Meg moved toward the passenger door.
“Sit back here with me,” Lucy hissed. She’d pulled the scarf away from her mouth so everyone could see her scowl.
Meg wanted to curl up on the front bench seat with Ian, with the heater blasting at her face, and, hopefully, his arm around her shoulder, but she did what her friend asked.
When they were settled, Ian spun around. He pretended to pull at an invisible chauffer’s cap.
“Where to, my sniffles?”
Meg thought for a moment. “Do you know how to get to 93 from here?”
“Forget that,” Lucy interrupted. “I’m not going to school now. Take me home.” She crossed her legs and leaned back into the shabby, orange upholstery. There was a large stain above her left ear. Meg didn’t think she should mention it. “I said home, Jeeves.”
Ian shrugged at Meg and spun back around. He took his foot off the brake, and the car shot forward. Meg had never been a roller coaster, but she imagined the climb up a rickety, wooden rail must feel sort of like driving down an icy, crowded city street in a creaking steel box that was threatening to implode at any moment. She fastened her seat belt with shaky hands, but the smile she flashed to Lucy was confident.
“At least we’re warm,” she whispered, but Lucy just turned and stared out the window.
They drove along in silence, except for Lucy barking out directions every few minutes. When she saw her house, she jumped from the car and slammed the door shut. She hadn’t bothered to thank Ian or even say goodbye to Meg.
“She hates the cold,” Meg said, feeling like she ought to apologize for her friend’s rudeness.
“Sure.” Ian threw his arm over the seat and turned to look at her. “And she hates the heat. And unicorns. And rainbows.”
“You make her sound miserable!” Meg thought she should defend Lucy. It wouldn’t do if Ian hated her, too.
“Nah, it’s all an act,” Ian said. He rested his chin on his shoulder. “Are you familiar with the confectionary wonder, the three musketeers bar?”
“Intimately.”
“Hard chocolate on the outside. Gooey gunk on the inside. That’s Lucy. Inside, she’s a big softie.”
Ian drove a little while down Lucy’s street, before slamming on the brakes. Thankfully, the car hadn’t been able to crack the 20mph mark. Otherwise, Meg would have gone careening through the dashboard. The car spun on the ice, before fishtailing in the snow.
“You’re not eager to get to school, are you?”
She just looked at him, raising her eyebrows as high as they would go.
He laughed. “Didn’t think so. Blow off school. Come and have coffee with me.”
“You said the magic word. For coffee, I’ll do anything.”
He pushed open the rear door again, and Meg jumped out. As she walked to the passenger side, she winced at her pathetic flirting attempt. He hadn’t noticed or was pretending not to because when she got back in the car, his smile was the same.
“Ok then.”
Meg opened her coat a bit to let the hot air from the heater warm her frozen skin. After he navigated a particularly nasty turn, Ian threw his arm around the back of her seat, and Meg felt like she was going to burst from happiness.
At first, they drove aimlessly through the city streets, weaving up and down the one-way streets and back alleyways. They didn’t talk to each other much, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It was nice to be with someone and not have to worry about entertaining them, as she did with Lucy. When she was with Ian, she never felt like she had to perform.
They passed four Dunkin’ Donuts, two Starbucks, and a couple of Mom and Pop places before she turned to him.
“Where are we going? To Columbia? To see Juan Valdez?”
“Juan doesn’t like surprise guests. There’s a great little coffee place down the street from where I grew up.”
“Where is that?” Meg asked as they pulled onto the interstate. Ian sped up, but the barometer barely crept up to 30.
“West,” Ian answered.
They didn’t drive to New York, or California, or Texas, or any other place that Meg imagined or feared, but ended up in some picturesque little suburb about an hour outside the city.
They stopped when they reached the town square-two roads intersecting with a cluster of small shops on either side. Ian grinned at Meg as he stepped out of the car. He stretched his long arms above his head. She followed and got out of the car in time to catch a quick glimpse of his surprisingly well-muscled stomach. She had no idea that was what he was hiding underneath those ill-fitting shirts.
They ordered their coffees from a homey little café. It had a high wooden bar, two tiny tables tucked into the corners, and a line of people that stretched out the door and out onto the sidewalk. Surprisingly, most of the customers were cheerful as they waited, in the biting cold, with their arms full of brown-paper wrapped parcels. City people would be complaining about the wait time in decibels only dogs could hear.
Ian greeted the elderly barista by name, and then patted his empty pockets.
“Do you mind…?” He smiled sheepishly at Meg.
Meg pulled her wallet from her bag before he had a chance to finish the question.
“Of course not.”
He was impressed by her order, a medium black.
“Hardcore,” he said, taking a sip of his drink, a monstrous concoction of whipped cream and caramel. He got a dab of whipped cream on his nose. Meg longed to reach over and wipe it off but motioned to him instead.
Ian sat down in the middle of a bench and crossed one long leg across the other. Meg plopped down next to him, a bit out of breath. His hair looked much lighter in the daylight, and it fell sort of crookedly, to his collar. Meg longed to reach out and touch it or touch his face, but she didn’t dare. She’d want to kiss him then, and Meg needed him to make the first move. If Ian were to kiss her, Meg wanted it to be because he desperately wanted to, not because she had thrown herself at him.
“I’ve never been this far outside the city before,” Meg admitted. She sipped her coffee to give her mouth something to do. It was delicious and piping hot.
“Really? City mouse never visited her country mouse relations?”
“I don’t have any country relations. Not in this country. Ones I speak to, anyway.”
“That’s a shame. I love the city, but I’m glad I didn’t grow up there.” He poked her in the arm. “So, a city girl. You’ve never raced down a dark country road on a dirt bike? Caught frogs in a river?”
Meg made a face.
“Maybe it’s different for boys. I always felt so bad for Flynn, growing up without a backyard, even.”
Meg wanted to wrinkle her nose at that name but didn’t.
“How do you know Flynn if you grew up out here?”
“Boy scout camp.”
Meg laughed.
“I can’t picture you as a boy scout. Either of you.”
“You haven’t seen my knots! And come on, have you met Flynn? He’s classic Boy Scout. Volunteers at an animal shelter? Picks up every stray that comes his way? Believes in truth and justice and all that? He’s a repressed superman.” He leaned over to her, so close she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. “I was only in it for the s’mores,” he whispered.
She shivered and took another sip of coffee.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” she said once she had swallowed. “You’re pretty heroic. You rescued me, remember?”
“Ah yes, I saved you from an icy fate.”
“Not that,” she giggled. “Before.”
She’d wanted to confess that he’d recognized him from Jefferson. His bloody, old gray sneakers had given him away If he hadn’t been there that day, she’d never have escaped.
She owed him everything.
“Before?”
“Danny Vasquez? His friends?”
“Ah,” Ian said, after a moment. He drank from his coffee and licked the whipped cream from his upper lip. “I know those kids. They’re bad news.”
She took a breath, reached out and grasped his hand. He looked down as she squeezed it, and his smiled faded. He looked at their clasped hands like he’d never seen anyone hold hands before. His face, when he turned to her, looked even more bewildered. She cursed herself as she pulled her hand away, and shoved it deep into her pocket.
“You probably saved my life that day,” she told him. “Those kids? They had a vendetta against me. You made them go away.”
“A vendetta? Nah, that sounds too complicated for those idiots.” The jokey smile returned. “Anyway, you’re a kid who can take care of herself. Your friend Lucy? She needs a constant chaperone. Is it true she’s hooking up with Zach’s cousin?”
“They broke up.” Meg was grateful for the change of subject. Talking about Jefferson, just thinking about it, brought it all back.
“Good,” Ian said. “He’s bad news too.”
They drank their coffees in companionable silence.
“So,” Meg said, licking her dry lower lip. “You used to live around here, huh?”
“My parents live about fifteen minutes that way.” He pointed over her shoulder. “I think they still do. Haven’t talked to them in a while. If you see a red-faced guy walk by, dragging an unhappy-looking Vietnamese woman behind him, let me know. I’ll introduce you.”
He frowned then, and his lips became a thin, hard line. Meg realized she knew very little about him.
“Where do you live now?”
He raised his eyebrows and pointed to his car. Meg remembered a woolen blanket rolled up in the backseat. Lucy had kicked it out of her way when she had first settled down in the car.
“Oh.”
“It’s surprisingly comfortable,” he said. “And it’s only temporary. I stay with friends most nights. Flynn’s family has been great. They’re an entire family of superheroes.”
She looked around the cute little town. It was so homey. So perfect. Abused and neglected kids came from all sorts of places.
“You can’t go home,” she said, understanding.
“Nope,” he said. “This is as close as I ever want to get.”
She fiddled with the lid of her coffee cup and wondered if Ian had ever tried to call for help. An entire team of social workers and psychologists had been so eager to believe her half-assed story. Would they have believed his true one?
She tried to remember the comforting words of all the social workers she’d seen, long ago. “You poor little thing,” they used to say. They’d ask her permission before hugging her. She always felt like such a lout, accepting those hugs when she hadn’t done a thing to deserve them.
“If you ever need someplace to stay,” Meg began. “You could crash at my place. My mom is pretty cool, and she works most nights anyway.”
He leaned over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered for a second, hovering above her jawline, and for one thrilling and terrifying second, she thought he was going to put his hand behind her head and push her toward him, but he didn’t. He just smiled, a little sadly.
“You’re a sweet kid, Meg. I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”
“It’s just a couch.” Meg shrugged and tried to look like she didn’t care either way. “And it’s not very comfortable.”
They stayed for a few more minutes, until the cold became a bit too much. The wind picked up, and Meg shivered as they headed back to the car.
“Cold?” Ian asked. When Meg nodded, he scooted next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. She fit perfectly into the crook of his arm; it was like a puzzle piece snapping securely into place.
“Thanks,” she said. Her voice sounded very small and far away, and she didn’t trust herself to say anything more. Instead, she just looked up at him, and surprisingly, Ian was looking down at her.
This is it, she thought and held her breath, but he just put his other arm around her and pulled her into a bear hug. She froze. He was holding her so tight; she almost couldn’t breathe. After a minute, his grip loosened, and he leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
“Let’s get you to school.”