Page 17 of Run
“I was worried about you, Ethan,” she says quietly, looking me in the eyes. “I feel bad everyone always turns out to be jerks. You’re such a nice guy. You don’t deserve to have your so-called friends turn on you.”
“They didn’t turn on me. They were just messing with Ari and it pissed me off. You know she hasn’t had it easy, and the last thing she needs is some shitheads making life harder for her.”
Catherine smiles and looks down, then back up at me as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “That’s what I mean.” She looks at my lips. “You’re a good guy. It’s nice. Refreshing. It’s … hot.”
I know what she’s doing. I haven’t fooled around with a lot of girls, but I’ve been around enough to know she wants me to kiss her. And I think I want to kiss her, too.
“Ethan,” she says, but before she can continue I lean in and press my lips to hers. It’s a little pathetic, at first. I use so much force that I press her back a little, and stay there for a second. But then my brain starts functioning again. I pull back just enough to lighten the pressure, and move my lips. But she’s the one who plunges her tongue inside my mouth.
Oh!
Her hands come up and grip either side of my face, and my hands wrap around her upper arms. We keep kissing, and for just a moment I open my eyes, to see what her face looks like—tomake sure she’s into it—and a flash of red catches the corner of my eye. I pull away from Catherine and look up to see Ari at the window. Shocked.
“Shit!” I say as Ari darts away from the house.
“What?” Catherine gasps, her hands still cradling my face. “What’s wrong?”
“N— Nothing. I just …”
She tries to kiss me some more, but I can’t get the hurt look on Ari’s face out of my mind, so I pull back. “I’m sorry. Ari was at the window, and she saw …” I wave my hand back and forth between the two of us.
“OK. So, Ari saw us kissing. Big deal.”
“It’s just, I’m afraid her feelings will be hurt.” I pull back further and sit at the edge of the bed.
“Why would her feelings be hurt, Ethan? I thought you said she was your friend.”
“She is.”
“Just your friend.”
“She is. But I told her to come to my window if she ever needs me, and she doesn’t do it often so I’m worried she needs me now. I have to go check on her.” I stand and reach for my hoodie. “I’ll only be a few minutes. Just wait for me here. Like I said, I’ll drive you to Fonz’s as soon as my mom is home.”
Catherine looks offended as she smooths her hair. “Actually, I’m just gonna walk.” She reaches for her coat and slides her arms into it.
“Cat, it’s freezing out. Seriously, I’ll drive you.”
“Honestly, Ethan, I’d rather walk than sit here and wait for you to go check in on Ari and then come back here for me.”
I close my eyes as she pushes up off the bed, scoops her backpack up, and heads down the hallway.
“Catherine.” She stops but doesn’t turn around. “I’m sorry. I like you. I really do. It’s just, well, Ari needs me.”
I can see Catherine nodding her head, even from behind. “I don’t resent you, Ethan,” she says without turning around. “It’s nice to be needed.”
As soon as Catherine leaves, I step into my boots, pull my hood up, and head out the door to jog over to Ari’s house. Lena’s car is in the driveway, so she must be home, but I don’t see Axel’s car. Looking in the window, I only see Ari. She’s lying in bed, her back to the window. I tap on the glass and see her spine straighten, but she doesn’t roll over. I tap again, louder this time.
Still without a response, I tap to the tune of “Do You Know the Muffin Man” until finally she turns and glares at me. I wave her over to the window.
She shakes her head.
I smash my lips together and wave her over more aggressively, and she shakes her head more vehemently. With my pointer and middle finger, I point to my eyes, then to her, then hook my thumb over my shoulder.
She rolls her eyes and gives me one finger. The middle one.
“Ari!” I whisper-shout. “Get your ass out here or God help me I will find an open window and climb inside!”
Ari appears to let out a huff, then kicks off all her blankets, dramatically gets out of bed, and stomps across the living room. I walk over to the door and stand on my tippy toes to look inside and watch as she makes a spectacle out of putting on her boots, lacing them all the way up, sliding on her jacket, buttoning every freakin’ button, pulling a knit hat over her head—leaving her red hair spilling out underneath—and securing mittens on each hand.
