Inappropriate by Vi Keeland
Chapter 7
Grant - 15 years ago
I couldn’t stop staring.
The snow was coming down pretty heavy, and the new girl stood out front with her mouth open, tongue sticking out, and no shoes on as she spun around with her eyes shut. She laughed as she caught snowflakes in her mouth.
Lily.
Lily. I needed to get some of those flowers to see what they smelled like. Not that I was dumb enough to think Lily would actually smell like a lily, but I somehow knew the smell was going to be the best smell ever.
I had a gnawing ache in my chest as I watched from the window. The logical reason for it was the grilled cheese and tomato soup Mom had made for lunch earlier. But I knew that wasn’t it. Even at fourteen, I knew what love felt like. Well, I hadn’t until an hour ago when the doorbell rang. Yet now I was absolutely certain of it.
Lily.
Lily.
Grant’s Lily.
It even sounds right, doesn’t it?
Grant and Lily.
Lily and Grant.
If we have kids, maybe they’ll be named after flowers, too—Violet, Poppy, Ivy. Wait. Ivy isn’t a flower. It’s a damn weed. I think?
Whatever.
It’s not important.
I leaned closer to the window in my father’s office, and my warm breath fogged the view. Raising a hand, I wiped it clear with the cuff of my sweatshirt. The movement caught Lily’s attention down below. She stopped spinning, cupped her hands around her eyes to shield them from the snow, and squinted up at me. I probably should’ve ducked so she didn’t see me, but I was frozen—completely and totally mesmerized by this girl.
She yelled something I couldn’t hear with the window shut. So I unlocked it and slid it open.
I had to clear my throat to get words out. “Did you say something?”
“Yeah. I said, are you some sort of a creeper or something?”
Shit. Now she thinks I’m weird.First I’d practically run out of the room when my mother introduced her to us, and now she’d caught me watching her like some sort of stalker. I needed to play it cool.
“No,” I yelled. “Just watching to see if any of your toes are going to turn black and fall off from frostbite. Didn’t you see The Day After Tomorrow?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been to a movie.”
My eyes widened. “You’ve never been to a movie?”
“Nope. My mom doesn’t believe in television or movies. She thinks TV makes us believe stupid things.”
“But if you’d watched TheDay After Tomorrow, you might have shoes on.”
She smiled, and My. Heart. Literally. Skipped. A. Beat. It felt like it had done a quick somersault the moment she flashed her pearly whites. I rubbed at the spot on my chest, though it didn’t hurt at all.
Looking down again at Lily, I yelled, “Hey, do that again.”
“Do what?”
“Smile.”
And there it was—an unmistakable skipped beat inside my chest.
Lily turned to look all around her. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Bells jingling?”
Maybe we were both imagining things.
“No. No bells.”
She shrugged. “Maybe it’s Santa Claus. I heard you rich people believe until you’re, like, thirty because you keep getting gifts every year.”
Suddenly the outside motion detector light flashed on, and I heard my mother’s voice. “Lily? What are you doing out there? Come inside before you catch a cold.”
“Yes, Mrs. Lexington. I was just checking out the snowflakes. I’ve never seen snow before in person.”
“Oh, my. Okay. Well, come inside, and let’s get you properly dressed. Kate has a snowsuit and boots that should fit you…and a hat.”
Lily looked up at me and smiled one more time.
My heart squeezed inside my chest. Again.
Damn…who knew love could be so painful?
***
The next morning I couldn’t find her anywhere. Mom usually made the new kids take the bus to school with me on their first day, and then I’d walk them to the office where she’d already be registering them and talking to the guidance counselor.
I poured cereal into a bowl and grabbed the milk out of the refrigerator, but when I went to put the container back, I heard a loud bang coming from the door that led to the garage. I scooped up a mouthful of Golden Grahams and went to see what was going on, carrying my cereal bowl.
Opening the door, I halted mid-chew.
“What are you doing?”
Lily’s brows drew tighter. She seemed legitimately confused by my question.
“Painting. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“It looks more like you painted yourself.”
Lily stood in front of an easel, her arms and legs covered in a dozen different colors of paint. She had on a long T-shirt that covered her ass, but barely. My eyes snagged on her legs, which had less paint than the top half of her, but were so long and smooth. I’d never seen a girl with such long legs before. I had the strongest urge to pick her up and see if she could cross her feet at the ankles behind my back.
I didn’t realize how long I’d been staring until she spoke again.
“You’re dripping.”
My eyes jumped up to meet hers. “Huh?”
She smiled and nodded her chin toward my cereal bowl. I’d been holding it crooked and milk was dripping onto my shoes.
“Shit.” I righted the bowl.
Lily laughed. God, this girl was beautiful. Long, black hair, naturally tanned skin in the dead of winter, and the biggest brown eyes I’d ever seen. And she was tall—only a few inches shorter than me. Ever since the summer of eighth grade, when I grew four inches in just a few months, most of the girls didn’t come up to my shoulders. But Lily did. And it felt right that she was tall—like she was meant to stand out over all the other girls.
I shook my head and snapped myself out of it. “Does my mother know you’re in here painting? The bus comes in, like, fifteen minutes.”
Her button nose wrinkled. “Bus?”
“Yeah, you know…school. It’s seven o’clock.”
“In the morning?”
Now I was as confused as her. “Yes, the morning. You thought it was still nighttime?”
“Yeah. I guess I painted all night. I must’ve lost track of time.” She shrugged. “That happens sometimes.”
I walked over and looked at the canvas. “You painted that?”
“Yeah. It’s not that good.”
My brows rose. The painting, which was some sort of abstract of a bunch of intertwined flowers, looked like it belonged in a museum, if you asked me. “Umm... If that’s not good, I hope you don’t see the crap I make in art class.”
She smiled. And again, my chest tightened.
“My mom took me to Hawaii once. The flowers there were so beautiful. It’s the only thing I like to paint.” She shrugged. “I’m sort of obsessed with doing it. I name them all. This one is called Leilani—it means heavenly flower and child of God in Hawaiian. It’s a popular name there. My grandmother was Willow. My mom is Rose, and I’m Lily. So we’re all named after flowers and plants. Maybe when I have my own little girl someday, I’ll name her Leilani.”
Wow. That’s screwed up. I’d had the same thought about naming kids after flowers. Except my thought hadn’t been about Lily’s kids, it had been about our kids.
“Leilani,” I said. “It’s a beautiful name.”
Lily closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “Lay-lah-nee. It is, isn’t it?”
“You’re beautiful, too.” I wasn’t sure where that even came from. Well, obviously, I knew where it came from—it was the truth. But I hadn’t expected it to come out of my mouth.
Lily set the brush down on her easel and wiped her hands on her T-shirt. She walked over and stood directly in front of me—right in my personal space. Every hair on my body rose, and my palms immediately started to sweat. What the hell is wrong with me? I’d made out with girls before, and yet this girl made me nervous to even be around her.
Pushing up on her toes, Lily kissed my cheek gently. “I think this might be the first foster home I like living in.”
Yeah, I think I’m going to like you living here, too.
