Under the Light - By Laura Whitcomb Page 0,30

a long time, but I was afraid to ask about her.

He shook off the idea. “Sorry, you meant what do I want to do with a partner.”

The phone rang again and the sound buzzed up my bones like a Taser. I had to clench my fists to keep myself from covering my ears. Billy watched me in the reflection as it rang a second time. He put his hand on my shoulder and I was embarrassed that I was shaking. I just didn’t want to hear my father’s voice again. Especially not with Billy there. Another ring. Had it always been so loud? Billy was holding both my shoulders now. He began slowly to rub my neck. Not like someone who knows what they’re doing—more like someone who has seen movies of people giving back rubs—but it was sweet. And then the next ring cut off and the voice machine never answered. I was relieved—whoever it was had hung up.

I don’t think Billy decided to kiss me exactly. But when I turned around we were face-to-face and for half a second our lips touched. So short, like lovers who are just saying hello in a lifetime full of kisses. It caught me by surprise—a soft, warm tease of a touch. His mouth tasted like cinnamon gum, but for some reason I thought, He should taste like rain.

“Sorry,” said Billy. “I should have asked.”

I didn’t know what to say or what to do with my hands.

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t like we had never done that before, but it was the first one I remembered.

I sat down on the bed to untie my toe shoes, not looking at him looking at me, when I heard a sound that was familiar and terrible. The kitchen door into the garage had a certain rattle and clunk to it when it opened and closed. Now I turned to him—he seemed like he hadn’t heard it. I whispered, “There’s a back door in the family room.”

One look at my face and he was out of the bedroom in a silent rush. In the hall he turned toward the back of the house and I tried to head my mother off at the dining room.

“Hi,” I said, leaning lazily on the corner of the table.

She looked exhausted as she set her purse on a chair, but the next moment her eyes were sharp and she grabbed my arm with an iron grip, hushing me with a finger to her lips. A thumping from the family room had frozen her with fear—a home invader about to break in. Of course I knew it was Billy trying to break out. I’d forgotten to tell him about the wooden dowel that my parents always kept lying in the grooves of the sliding glass door.

Her terror shifted to confusion as she glanced down at my feet. “What is going on here?” she whispered. “Who is in the family room?”

The thumping stopped.

She released my arm. “Go to your room.”

And at first I obeyed. I went into my bedroom and closed the door, staying near the crack, listening, but all I heard was my mother on her cell phone speaking quietly—I couldn’t make out the words.

And I couldn’t stand the suspense—I sneaked out and followed her down the hall. She stopped in the doorway of the family room and I looked around her shoulder to see if Billy had managed to escape or if he was hiding. But no, he was sitting on the sofa, reading our family Bible.

Billy stood up and smiled at her. “Hi.”

“Sit down,” my mother ordered, so he did. She stood over him. “Reading Scriptures?”

“Sure.”

“You came over to read the Bible with my daughter?”

“Would that be okay?” he asked.

She paused but didn’t bother answering him. “What do you think of it?”

“What?”

She took the Bible from his hands and folded her arms around it, pressing it to her chest. “What do you think of the Bible?”

He shrugged. “Best book ever written?” He just wanted to please her.

“What part were you reading just now?”

Why was she toying with him? Why didn’t she just send him home?

“What part?” said Billy.

“What book of the Bible?” she asked.

“I think it was the third.” He looked so lost. “The third part.”

“Which Testament?” she asked him.

Billy tilted his head slightly as he tried to read the Bible’s cover, half visible in her arms. “American Revised—”

“Do you know how many lies you’ve told in the last minute?” she asked. “You didn’t come here for a Bible study.”

“No,