Wild Roses by Deb Caletti

willing drowning.
    We had already pulled away from each other when
the headlights shined up the street. Headlights, oh, shit-- Dino. Instant fear
reaction. Instant guilt at being caught, and the sudden remembrance that there
were way too many reasons not to be doing what I was just doing.
    I stepped away from Ian, and real life filled
the space between us as Dino parked his car in the drive and just sat there in
the driver's seat, watching us. This, Ian and me, it was something I couldn't
do. I just couldn't. Not only because Dino would be pissed, and he certainly
already seemed pissed, not only because our lives were fucked up enough already,
but because of what would happen to me if I let myself feel this much, this
deeply, this good. Ian was leaving, and when he did I would feel this much, this
deeply, this destroyed. I'd already seen what happened when you let your
passions have their way. There were plenty of images to choose from--take your
pick. My mother counting pills lined up along the bathroom counter, round yellow
pills like dress buttons. My Dad's
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    haunted post-divorce eyes, the chaos in my
mother's post-divorce house, bills and dishes and laundry, all the evidence of a
life out of control. My father with the Cavalli books spread out over his bed.
Broken and destroyed hearts. I was only seventeen. It was too soon to be part of
a train wreck.
    I broke away, ran into the house before Dino
got out of his car. I left Ian Waters standing alone on the lawn. I saw his
face, enough of it, anyway, to see that he was surprised and hurt, but I didn't
care. I told myself I didn't care. What mattered was avoiding the train wreck. I
ran upstairs to my room, shut the door. I shut it all out behind me. Shutting
doors was the solution of the day. I tried not to imagine Ian standing there
outside, making his way home to that house by the ferry terminal. I just said to
myself No. I held that snow globe with the bear in it, turned him upside down.
He was the more sensible one of us. Sure, he was floating aimlessly, but he
would never leave that glass dome. He would stay inside that place, even if it
snowed and snowed.
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    CHAPTER SIX
    "Cassie? I need to talk to you about
something," Mom said to me in the morning. What a surprise. After last night I
knew we would be having this conversation. She sure hadn't wasted any time--I
was in the bathroom getting ready for school. I had just brushed my teeth and
was doing a quick toothpaste survey, seeing if I'd ended up with a white
toothpaste drip. I swear, every day I end up with a spot of toothpaste in a
different location. It's like a game of Where's Waldo.
    "What?" I said. I knew what.
    "It's about Ian."
    "What about him?" Defensiveness crept up my
spine, settled somewhere in my throat.
    "Look, I don't know what the situation is. . .
." "There is no situation," I interrupted. Which was
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    mostly true. There wasn't going to be a
situation anymore.
    "Okay, fine. If that's the case, great. There
are just things you don't understand here, about this. If you were to get
involved . . . okay, Cassie, stop with the face. Let's just say you were. It's
not a simple thing. Not even for you."
    "I know that. That's why I'm making my own
decision about it. You don't have to tell me that." I was angry. I didn't feel
like I was the prime concern here. "Tell me, though, because, you know, I just
don't get it. I don't get why Dino should have such a problem with me and Ian,
anyway. Can't Ian have friends? What, he'll be contaminated like the kid who
lives in the bubble? Or does Dino just not want me to be happy?"
    "Come on, quit it. It has nothing to do with
Dino not wanting your happiness. He's got a responsibility to Ian. Ian's got to
stay focused. Dino's got to stay focused too. It complicates things
unnecessarily."
    "For Dino."
    "For Dino, for Ian. For Ian's family Ian is
coming here for training. Professional training. This is his life course