Page 62 of Run
Axel comes out from around the side of the house calling her for. But this time, she doesn’t run. She just curls herself in tighter, as if she could hide inside her puffy coat.
I stand and turn to look out the back door of the bus as we head away from her house—and mine. It’s only another minute before we stop in front of Fonz’s house and step off, along with Sean and Catherine. Fonz opens the front door and the three of them file through, eager to go inside and play video games. But I stop, gripping the strap of my backpack as it hangs from my shoulder.
“Actually, guys, I think I’m just going to head home. I forgot that I told my mom I would help her with something.”
Catherine and Sean exchange a look, while Fonz says, “Yeah, Ethan. Go check on things at home. Oh! But first, take something with you. Smells like chocolate!”
He disappears around the corner and pops back a moment later with a napkin wrapped around two chocolate brownies. “Take one for yourself, and one for … uh … later.” He tips his head in the direction of my house, because he knows exactly who I’m going to share these with.
The cold air pierces my lungs with each breath as hurried steps crunch atop the now snow-covered ground, bringing me closer to Ari’s house. She’s no longer sitting on the front step. Looking around and out at the fields, which are wide open now since it’s winter, I don’t see any blur of red or any movement at all.
Then I hear the creak of a door opening.
I spin around and see the back door of Axel’s old, broken-down Accord ajar. Glancing around to make sure he’s nowhere in sight, I jog over, slink inside the back seat and softly pull the door shut, careful not to make a sound.
“You don’t have to be quiet.”
“Gah!” The sound of Ari’s voice makes me jump. She’s sitting on the floor between the front and back seats, her back resting against the door opposite me, legs bent with a notepad resting on them. The end of a sucker sticks out of the corner of her mouth, and a little blue from the sugary treat is collecting in the corners of her lips.
“You scared the bejesus out of me,” I say, placing a hand over my rapidly beating heart.
Ari is quiet for a moment as she finishes writing something, then pulls the sucker out of her mouth with a smacking sound. “Sorry.”
“I was just expecting you to whisper. I saw Axel stalking around earlier, so I thought …”
Ari just shakes her head. “He’s asleep now.” She slips the sucker back in her mouth and starts writing again. I can hearthe hard candy banging against her teeth as she shifts it from side to side with a little slurp.
Tipping my head back against the seat and closing my eyes, it’s only a moment before I hear the “pop” of the sucker leaving Ari’s mouth, and then her voice.
“What’s that smell?”
“Hmm?”
“Something smells really good.” I hear her stomach grumble.
“Oh!” I sit up straighter and dig into my coat pocket. “How could I forget? These are from Fonz’s house.” She plucks the sucker from her mouth as I pull the little bundle out and unwrap the napkin on my lap. Dark crumbs of baked chocolate spill out the sides, but I’m quick to press my thighs together so they don’t fall onto the floor. Ari eyes the brownies in my lap, her tongue making a quick swipe of her lower lip.
“Come here,” I say.
Ari hooks the clip of the pen into the side of her notebook, then places it on the seat before hoisting herself up beside me.
“They’re still a little warm, so they’re messy.” I drag the napkin holding the brownies from my lap to hers, then turn and face her, and can’t help blurting out, “You have freckles.” How have I never noticed the freckles splattered over the bridge of her nose and running onto her cheeks and forehead?
She stares at me for a moment, then her green eyes drift down to my lip, and I know what she wants to ask. A lot of people do. “You ever heard of cleft lip?”
She shakes her head.
“Well, it’s when you’re born with a lip that’s like, split, kind of.” I rub my finger over the thin line as I explain. “That’s how I was born. When I was a baby the doctor sewed it up for me, but it left a scar.”
Ari doesn’t say anything, just looks down at her lap. “You brought these for me?” I can’t tell if she changes the subject tospare my feelings about the scar, or she truly doesn’t care that I have it.
“Yes,” I reply. “Well, no. Not both of them. One is for me.” Reaching down and plucking one brownie off the napkin, I wait for her to do the same. We bite into them at the same time, and she rolls her eyes while I groan in delight.
We devour them quickly, sitting in comfortable silence as the snowfall picks up outside, leaving fat, wet splatters on the windows. I slide my tongue around the inside of my mouth, collecting remnants of brownie and swallowing them, then crack my knuckles. “Are you writing another letter to your mom?”
Ari pops the sucker back in her mouth and talks around it. “Yeah. But I guess it’s kinda stupid. I’ll probably never find her anyway.”
“Why do you say that?”
