Avra's God Read online

  She was over the whole Harry Potter invisibility cloak she prayed for in elementary school. You can pull it back now. Puleeese. She stomped her foot under her desk.

  The girl with purple hair at the next desk shot her a sideways glance.

  Avra shook her foot as though it had gone to sleep.

  A snippet of Sunday’s sermon flitted through her mind—love your enemies, pray for them. She rolled her eyes.

  Avra took a deep breath. Okay, she’d pray for Kallie Logan Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays when she got to calc. God knew the prayer was more about her than Kallie. So, would you work on my jealousy—maybe make me content? And for Kallie—I don’t know—whatever she needs. But she doubted a girl like Kallie needed anything.

  Avra slumped in her seat. God either would or wouldn’t take away her jealousy. It was up to Him.

  Avra wiped the flour off her hands onto her soccer shorts. “I don’t know what the big deal is about cookies. If you can read, you can bake. You could do this at your place.” Stress made her irritable. And Cisco standing in her kitchen defined stress. Why was he here anyway?

  Cisco held the cookbook in one hand and waved the other at her. “What? Are you kicking me out?” His mop of sun-bleached ringlets bounced as he moved. “First you invite me, then you uninvite me.”

  She smiled for the first time since he got there. “You invited yourself.”

  “Yeah, well ...”

  She cocked her head at him. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why did you invite yourself over?” she said.

  “Two cups brown sugar.”

  “Okay, okay.” She reached for the sugar canister. “Answer my question.”

  “Cookies.”

  “What? You don’t have an oven?”

  “Yeah, I got an oven.” He pressed his lips together. “But no can do. Idiot sisters. Kitchen trashed twenty-four seven.”

  “So, why my house?”

  “Two cups granulated sugar.” Cisco set down the cookbook and leaned against the counter. His arm brushed hers, toasting her pale skin with the Cuban brown of his. “It was kismet. Life happens. I like the family—the mom, the dad, the bros—you.” The mischief seeped out of his eyes as he held her gaze.

  She sucked in a breath. “Butter, we need butter.” She yanked open the refrigerator. Cool air spilled over her, clearing her mind. She turned Cisco’s words over in her brain. Just as she thought—Cisco was into her family, not her. She kneed shut the refrigerator door .

  Sweat trickled down the back of Kallie’s neck under the blanket of her hair. The toes of her sneakers kicked up dust clouds on the berm of the road as she wound her way toward home, part of a sparse string of students moving away from the New Smyrna Beach campus of Daytona State College. At least her Tuesday-Thursday classes were in town.

  A faded maroon Neon rolled to a stop beside her. Jesse poked his head out and motioned for her to get in.

  His ignoring her on her first day of classes still stung. Jesse had been the only person she recognized all week. She peered through his window, shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun. “Thanks, but walking places is the only exercise I get.”

  “So, what did you think of my songs the other day—before they put you to sleep?” He grabbed the back of his neck with one hand.

  If the guy didn’t have cocky written all over him, she’d think he was nervous.

  Sun glinted off the chrome of his rearview mirror as she sang, “I’m sliding down the pain. Sliding down the pain.” She eased into another tune, “Your breath’s on my lips, a memory settling there to stay, but you’ve gone away.” The notes floated in the heat.

  Jesse’s light brown eyes widened. “You nailed those lines exactly the way I wrote them. How’d you do that?”

  “My sister calls it songographic memory.”

  Jesse leaned out the window. “Cisco!” he yelled at a guy on a bike whose white-brown curls whipped in the wind as he flew toward them.

  The bike’s brakes screeched as it fishtailed sideways and came to a stop in front of Jesse’s car. “Hey.” The guy’s chest heaved a couple of times as he caught his breath. He motioned toward the bike. “Ran out of gas before payday.”

  He leaned close to her and squinted. “And you must be Kallie with the evergreen eyes.” He stood upright and smirked at Jesse.

  A smile crept across her face. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  Jesse eyed his friend. “Get lost.”

  Cisco laughed and nodded at Kallie. “Nice to meet you.” He grinned at Jesse and sped off.

  She turned a smug look on Jesse.

  Jesse coughed. “You sing, huh?”

  “A little.”

  “How much is a little?”

  She twisted her hair up in a knot and stuck a pencil through it. “Ten years of voice lessons.”

  Jesse’s lips made a silent circle. “So, what did you think about my stuff?” His elbow rested on the door, and his hand massaged the back of his neck.

  “The music rocks. Lyrics remind me of Boxer Rebellion. Voice—pure, natural talent—”

  “Yeah, baby!”

  “—A little rough, could use some training.”

  Jesse pursed his lips and studied her. “You could teach me.”

  “Join Norton Christeson’s concert choir.”

  Jesse shot her a not-in-this-decade look and rolled the Neon ahead a few feet.

  “Maybe I’d turn you into a soprano.”

  “Right.” Jesse pulled away from the curb and stopped. “How about you give me a lesson on Friday?” He shouted over his shoulder as he drove away, “Show up at six in the shed.”

  Her mind drifted to the day last week when she met Jesse Koomer. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on his personal jam session in the church shed. A dragonfly buzzed her head, and she shooed it away. Jesse would get his singing lesson.

  Avra nudged the screen door open with her hip, watching the cocoa slosh in the mugs she carried. Her brothers and Cisco had piled onto the back porch after a game of mud football in the park. The three-hour rain still dribbled off the roof.

  Lester, their pit-bull-in-a-poodle’s-body, tangled in her feet. She shoved him out of her way and heard his toenails dance across the porch. He growled at Cisco, then walked past. Even Lester had nearly warmed up to Cisco.

  She’d been right—Cisco was into her family, not her. In fact, he’d been over to hang with her brothers a half-dozen times since they made cookies.

  Cisco slouched against a post. “That’s what I’m saying. How come Drew always gets to QB?”

  Kurt leaned against the siding with his long, muddy legs sprawled across the gray-painted boards. “He’s fast and little.”

  Avra handed Kurt a mug.

  Drew poked his grimy T-shirt with a thumb and took the cocoa she held out to him. “I the man! Two TDs!” The spike had gone out of his hair, and brown dirt smeared across the freckles on his cheeks.

  She put a mug into Cisco’s dirty hand and wrinkled her nose. “You guys are gross.” She surveyed his mud-slicked jeans and T-shirt and shook her head.

  Cisco leaned toward her. “Aw, Avra, how ’bout a hug?”

  She gave him a saccharine smile and planted her feet in front of him, body language daring him to follow through with his threat—a trick she’d learned dealing with brothers. “I pass.” Avra studied the mud streaked across one cheek and into his hair as the seconds ticked by. She was so close she could trace the few proud hairs on his chin, the fullness of his lips. His eyes warmed like hot fudge, and she couldn’t look away.

  Cisco blew his breath out and sat back against the post. She’d won.

  Before she could move away, he ran a muddy finger the length of her nose. “Gotcha.” A wide, innocent smile crawled across his face.

  Avra laughed. “You’re like having another brother.” But I’m glad you’re not.

  Kurt stretched to high-five Cisco. “Hey, Bro!” Sludge smeared through his short brown hair and down h
is neck.

  “Hoo, buddy,” Drew croaked, “you better watch your back! Avra will get you when you least expect it.”

  Thanks, little brother. Smirking at Cisco, she spun and retreated to the kitchen. She swiped the mud off her nose and rubbed it between her fingers. Just how would she get Cisco back?

  Jesse lagged behind while the other students jockeyed out the door. A veil of hair blocked his view of Kallie’s face. Her long fingers snapped the clasp on her backpack, and she scooped it into her arms as she stood. Jesse grabbed the back of his neck for a fraction of a second and took a deep breath. He set a handwritten sheet of music on her desk.

  She looked up, surprised. “What’s this?”

  “A song I wrote.” He darted for the door. “Tell me what you think of it,” he flung over his shoulder. He wanted an objective opinion. Kallie knew music. She’d tell him if he was any good.

  Nausea settled in the pit of his stomach as he dodged between students. The girl could annihilate him. If he wouldn’t look like a freak, he’d run after her and take the song back.

  Jesse slammed his books down on the snack bar table, jarring Cisco. “What’s with you? You’ve got a silly grin on your face and you’re off in la-la land.”

  Cisco frowned. “Not anymore.”

  “What gives?”

  “Thinking about chocolate chip cookies.”

  He sat next to Cisco. “Having them for lunch?”

  “Naw. Just dreaming. Your mom or sister bake cookies?”

  “Yeah, snickerdoodles, oatmeal raisin, Christmas cookies—”

  Cisco gave him a wistful look. “Must be heaven.”

  “Yeah, right. My old man can suck the sweetness right out of the air.”

  Pain sliced through Cisco’s expression. “You’ve got issues with your old man, but at least the Rev didn’t ditch his family.” Cisco pulled him out of his chair in a headlock. “Come on. Let’s do lunch.”

  Billy cut in line between them. He hummed the latest Modest Mouse song, oblivious to the dirty looks from the students behind them. Cisco jumped in with the lyrics. In a heartbeat all three of them were belting it out, full voice, in the lunch line.

  Jesse grinned at Cisco and Billy, lapping up the attention like a drug. People in a fifty-foot radius turned toward them. Some sang along. Cisco drummed out the beat on Billy’s tray, bongo style. Even the sourest of the counter help smiled.

  “Hey, guys,” Jesse said a few minutes later. “It could work—our band was born in the student union at Daytona State College. It’ll be in the papers years from now.” His untouched burger and Jell-O jiggled when he hit the table with his fist. “Cisco on drums.”

  Cisco beat out a quick rhythm on the table.

  “I’ve got guitar, vocals.” Enthusiasm snowballed inside him. “Billy, how many years of piano did your ma make you take?”

  Billy looked around self-consciously. “Six.”

  “Bingo, we’ve got keyboard!”

  Billy looked unconvinced.

  Cisco jumped up. “We’re in, man!” He high-fived Jesse and the less-enthusiastic Billy.

  “Hey, Billy, didn’t you get into the snack bar grooving on our tune?” Cisco said.

  A corner of Billy’s mouth turned up. “Yeah, that was cool. The girls—”

  “Yeah, man,” Jesse said. “The girls. Hang on to that thought.”

  Kallie struggled through the chords to Jesse’s song for the fifth time, her fingers stilling on the piano keys. A cooling breeze blew in through the French doors behind her.

  Aly’s pixie, the exact shade of Kallie’s hair, popped around the corner from the hall. “What are you doing?”

  Kallie twisted her hair and held it up off her neck to catch the breeze. “Quit reading over my shoulder. You know I hate that. You can’t read music anyway.”

  “I can read the words,” Aly said with fourteen-year-old logic. “I bet a guy gave you that.”

  “Go away. Scat. Leave me alone.”

  Aly bit her lip. “You don’t have to yell at me.”

  As usual, Aly’s hint of tears triggered Kallie’s guilt. Aly would be more stable if she had a dad. They’d both have a father if Kallie hadn’t screwed it up for them.

  Kallie dropped her hair. “Okay, okay. Give me a half hour of peace and quiet, and I’ll let you use my iPod.”

  Aly gave her a weak smile. “Deal.”

  Kallie clenched her teeth and forced herself to focus on Jesse’s You’re Callin’ My Name. She mastered the chords and added the lyrics.

  Something draws me to you, girl.

  You’re callin’ my name

  And I’m hearin’ your voice deep inside.

  Kallie smoothed the song sheet with her palms. Warmth stole through her. Was she the girl in the song? She sang the next verse.

  But you’re that mysterious pond in the woods.

  Nobody knows how deep.

  Nobody knows you’re even there.

  The mood of the song lingered in the air. The day she met Jesse in the storage barn behind a church she’d taken a piece of him home without his knowing. This time, Jesse chose to give her a slice of himself.

  In her mind, she saw him standing over her desk—his lean medium frame looking taller from that angle than the five nine she estimated him to be. Flyaway brown hair, kissed with gold, poked in every direction, as if he scrubbed his fingers through wet hair on the way to the car every morning. They’d never swum in the shallows and now they were fifty feet deep. She would have to swim for her life. The guy had talent and more than a little ego. No way would she go down.

  Chapter 3

  “Avra!”

  She heard her name yelled up the stairs as she stepped out of the shower.

  “Dinnertime!”

  She slipped into sweats, her legs wobbly from a grueling soccer practice. She ran a brush through her hair and jogged down the stairs, a towel still draped around her neck. She breezed into the dining room. She stopped short. “Cisco! Who let you in?” She hated surprises.

  “I was sitting on the couch when you flew by after soccer.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. Great. Why hadn’t she looked in the mirror before coming down? Irritation and warmth blended inside her like well-shaken salad dressing. She slid into her seat. Her calf brushed against Cisco’s and she jerked away.

  Drew blew out a noisy breath. “Mom invited Cisco to stay for dinner. Is that okay with Your Royal Highness? Now, can we pray? I’m starving.” He bowed his gelled head. Eyes slid shut around the table. Cisco’s gaze darted around the room and stopped on Avra—the first time she’d ever seen him uncomfortable. He ducked his head.

  The words of her father’s grace hummed around her, usually as familiar and comforting as the flop, flop of her mother’s slippers against the kitchen floor every morning. What did Cisco feel? Tossed into a Norman Rockwell painting?

  Talk swirled around her. Being this close to Cisco made her feel she was running at ten thousand feet and couldn’t quite catch her breath. Get over it, already. He was a family friend. Lester sat behind Cisco’s chair, his curly head cocked to one side as if he waited for his master to finish eating.

  She listened to the timbre of Cisco’s voice, not paying attention to what he was saying until she heard her name.

  “Kurt goes, ‘Avra’s no fun; she’s a techno nerd.’ So, I say, ‘What kind?’ Drew says, ‘Sound tech.’ And I say, ‘Hello! My band, Beach Rats, needs a sound tech.’“ He snapped his fingers. His arm grazed Avra’s.

  She set down her water glass with a thud. Cisco glanced at her, gave her another millisecond look. “So, Avra says, ‘Stick it in your ear, dweeb boy.’ Or something like that—she meant Kurt, not me. Anyway—” He faced Avra. “—what’s it gonna be? You going to tech for us?”

  Her face heated under Cisco’s full attention. Kurt lifted a newly barbell-pierced eyebrow at her reaction.

  Cisco waited for her answer.

  Look somewhere else—anywhere else. “Whatever.”
Was there any chance Cisco wouldn’t notice she was blushing from two feet away?

  Cisco drilled her with his eyes. “Not ‘whatever.’ Are you going to do it—yes or no? I gotta tell Jesse.”

  She bent over her plate, willing everyone to look away. Fine. “Yes.”

  Avra gathered the calculus worksheets scattered across her desk into a pile and slipped them in a folder.

  “Uh, Avra ...” Kallie stood beside her desk, chewing on her bottom lip. “Did you get this stuff today?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I was hoping you might help me figure it out. That is, if you have time.” Gossamer hair spilled over Kallie’s perfect skin, making her look like Legolas’, from The Lord of the Rings, twin sister. “I’m in way over my head. I had this feeling you might tutor me.”

  Avra puckered her forehead as though she were sorry. “I’m kind of busy this weekend.”

  Kallie’s eyes flashed surprise and flitted to the whiteboard. “Maybe another time.” She rushed out of the classroom.

  Jealousy tasted like three-day-old coffee in Avra’s mouth. She knew why Kallie thought she’d help. An invisible cord stretched between them, woven by Avra’s prayers. I’m such a jerk. Forgive me. She so thought she was over the jealousy. Obviously not. She’d make it right.

  Avra’s feet moved in slow motion across campus. She spotted Kallie sitting in the Student Union in a group of girls. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich oozed onto a brown paper sack in front of her. Avra swallowed, took a deep breath.

  Kallie’s chin lifted toward her when she sensed Avra’s presence. A girl with blonde curls licked mustard off her finger, cast a curious glance at Avra, and refocused on Maddie Shoewalter, whose blood red fingernails clicked on the lunch table as she talked.