Here With You (A Laurel Heights Novel)

chapter Five



Rachel stopped by her French class after school, to ask Madame Roche a question. She could care less about conjugating the verb avoir in past perfect tense—she cared that it'd take a long time to explain because her teacher didn't know how to give a concise answer. By the time Roche was finished, the –sons of anarchy would be gone and Rachel's locker would be clear.

After ten minutes of explanation, she managed to extricate herself from her teacher's clutches. She walked down the hall, head lowered, just in case. Before she rounded the corner to her locker, she peered around the corner to check.

The coast was clear.

Her shoulders relaxed, and she headed straight to her locker. She just needed to switch one book and then she could leave. The quicker she was in and out, the better. She fumbled with the padlock, exhaling when it clicked open. She pulled the book out of her bag and looked into her locker.

Then she froze.

Dangling from the middle of the small space was a pair of yellow briefs with SpongeBob on them. A note was pinned to them: We found these and figured they were yours. You're welcome.

She tugged them down and shoved them in her bag. This had to stop. She'd show them. She'd get better underwear than the tacky stuff they wore.

There was that store across from Grounds for Thought: Romantic Notions. She'd go there and get expensive underwear that'd make them jealous. Then she'd shove the yellow briefs down their throats.

"Hey."

Slamming the door shut, she whirled around to find Aaron Hawke leaning against Madison's locker. Did he see the SpongeBob underwear? Her cheeks burned.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You have a funny look on your face."

"I'm fine." She hugged her bag closer and began walking toward the exit.

"Uh-oh." He followed her, his long legs easily keeping pace with her brisk city-girl walk. "Whenever people say they're fine, they're usually anything but."

She glanced at him. "I'm not sure why you'd care."

He smiled. "I know, but I do."

His smile did something funny to the pit of her stomach. Her tongue suddenly felt too big in her mouth, so she walked faster to cover it up.

"Where are you headed?" he asked, seemingly not bothered by the fact that she was practically running.

She shrugged, feeling her face go red again as she thought about Aaron Hawke knowing she was going to Romantic Notions. "Nowhere."

"Want to get hot chocolate?"

She stopped abruptly and goggled at him. "Like a date?"

He laughed. "Don't look so excited."

Shaking her head, she said, "I have an errand to take care of."

"Ouch." Aaron put a hand over his heart. "You know how to take a guy down a peg. Can I at least walk you wherever you're going?"

The thought of one of the hottest boys in school knowing she was going to buy underwear embarrassed her. She shook her head emphatically as she edged away from him. "That's not an excellent idea. I, um, I'll see you tomorrow."

Before he could say anything, she hurried off. She turned left on a street, walking away from the lingerie store, before doubling back on another street. As she approached Romantic Notions, she checked to make sure no one she knew was around. Seeing no one but a woman pushing a stroller, Rachel rushed in and closed the door firmly behind her.

Heart pounding, she looked around the store. There was underwear everywhere: hanging from little padded ivory hangers, covering tables in colorful piles, and spilling out of dresser drawers. She did a slow circle, amazed. This was a whole world she hadn't known existed. Where did she start?

A lady in a short skirt, sweater, tights, and boots came out from the back. "Hey there. Feel free to look around, and if you need help just give me a shout."

"Thank you," Rachel murmured, ducking her head and moving to the opposite side of the room. She stopped in front of a lacy red bra and matching underwear.

Red was grown up. Standing in front of it, she frowned at the bra. It had a hole right in the middle of it. What good was it if it wasn't going to cover anything?

She moved on to the black bra next to it. It seemed whole, and a little more protective, with thin black straps that criss-crossed all across the front. Black was way grown-up. Addison wore a lot of black.

"That's really nice on," the sales lady said, rummaging in a dresser on the other side of the store. "But if you're looking for a bra, I have one over here I think would look fabulous on you."

Rachel looked at the bra and panties that the lady brought over to her. It didn't have straps or thin frilly lace. It was black with tiny pink polka dots and a pink bow at the center. The underwear was matching, with a bow in front.

"I brought you the boy shorts, but I have matching thongs, too." The lady smiled. "I love the boy shorts, and with your long slim legs they're going to look fantastic."

"Really?" She tried to remember if Addison or Madison wore boy shorts.

"Try it," the woman encouraged her. "They'll look hot. The dressing room is back that way. My name is Nicole, if you need help."

Nodding, she dragged her feet to the curtain Nicole pointed at. She shrugged off her bag and stripped down to her underwear. Turning, she studied herself in the mirror.

As much as she hated to admit it, the –sons were right: her underwear was ugly. Wrinkling her nose, she took them off and put on the set the saleswoman had given her.

"How are you doing in there?" The curtain swept aside and Nicole popped her head in.

Rachel gasped, covering herself.

"Let me see." Like it was nothing, Nicole moved Rachel's arms and surveyed the bra. Then she twirled her finger. "Turn around. We need to adjust it a little."

Mortified, she stood silently as the woman tightened and adjusted straps. "That's the way it's supposed to fit," Nicole said with a nod. "Look now."

The quicker she humored the woman, the sooner she'd leave, so Rachel turned and glanced in the mirror. Then she did a double-take. "I have breasts."

Nicole grinned. "The power of a good bra. Do you see the back here? It should fit straight across your back. Your other bra was riding up."

She'd thought that was just the way bras were. She wondered if her mom had known that. "How did you know?"

"I could tell. It's what I do. And those boy shorts really do look amazing on you."

She looked down. They rode lower on her hips than her briefs, and they made her feel strange, but in a good way. She blushed, imagining Aaron looking at them. "I'll buy them," she said impulsively.

"Good decision." The sales lady patted her shoulder. "I'll meet you outside."

She got dressed, reluctantly putting on her old underwear. She covered it quickly with her T-shirt and sweater to hide it and tugged her jeans up.

When she walked out of the dressing room, the saleswoman was talking to a man. Rachel could only see him from the back, but she wondered why he was in San Francisco. Based on his hat and boots, he was obviously a cowboy.

He looked relaxed, the way he leaned against the counter with one boot crossed over the other. Which was kind of cool, because she was uncomfortable in the lingerie store and she was a girl. If she were a guy, she'd be doubly uncomfortable. He seemed right at home.

Was he buying underwear for his girlfriend? Was Nicole his girlfriend? She wondered what it'd be like to have a boyfriend, or to have him buy things for her, especially private things like underwear. She tried to picture Aaron in here. He'd actually be relaxed, just like the cowboy.

The sales lady looked around the guy, her hand outstretched. "I'll take that, honey."

The man turned around and smiled at her.

Rachel froze midstep, her breath catching like she'd been knocked in the chest. Griffin Chase. He was Griffin Chase.

She opened her mouth, wanting to tell him how her mom loved his music and used to listen to it all the time. That his music saved her after her mom died. She'd been so alone, but when she listened to his songs it was like had a friend who understood her. Whenever she felt really alone, she'd put his albums on repeat and she could almost feel her mom still with her. But her tongue got all mangled in her mouth again.

He turned his attention to Nicole. "I should go so you can work. See you later, Nic?"

"Do I have a choice?" But the saleswoman said it with a hint of a smile.

"You always have a choice."

The lady rolled her eyes. "Get out of here before you cause a riot."

He winked at the lady and then turned his smile on Rachel.

She gasped. He was so much better looking than on his album covers or the poster in Madison's locker. She swallowed, reaching out her hand. "Griffin Chase," she croaked.

"See?" the saleswoman said.

He leaned forward, a finger to his lips, looking right into her eyes. "Shh. Don't tell anyone."

Rachel shook her head in awe. "I won't," she managed to say this time.

With another smile, he left the store. She watched him put his sunglasses on and head down the street. Did he live in Laurel Heights?

Nicole sighed. "Another conquest."

Rachel turned. "What?"

"Never mind." She shook her head, smiling gently. "If you like this set, there's another in lime that'd look great with your skin."

"Yes, please. I'll take both." She took out the emergency credit card her dad had given her. If there was ever an emergency, it was this. "Is Griffin Chase your boyfriend?"

"No." Nicole made a face like the thought was disgusting. "We used to be best friends in high school."

"Really?" Rachel tried to think of having someone like him as her best friend. For some reason she thought of Aaron. "So you're not dating him?"

"Dating someone popular like him may seem like a great idea. He's hot and successful, and it'd be exciting. But there are downsides."

Maybe, but it seemed like the respect she'd get from dating the best musician on the planet would be worth it. "What downsides?"

"More than I could list. Like that I get roped into helping with his music when he gets stuck." Nicole's smile took the sting out of her words.

"He gets stuck?" That was what she felt like. She hadn't been able to write anything since her mom's funeral.

The saleslady shrugged. "Every creative person gets confused at some point. Sometimes you just need a friend to point you in the right direction."

Rachel nodded. She wished she could be Griffin Chase's friend. How awesome would that be? And then she could help him with his songs—not the music part, but with the lyrics. If she knew him, she'd give him the poem she'd written for her mom.

Nicole handed over the little burgundy bag. "Come back in a week. We'll have new pieces you'll like."

She nodded, taking the little bag home. Rachel stopped abruptly on the sidewalk as a thought occurred to her: if Nicole and Griffin Chase were friends, he probably hung out at Romantic Notions a lot. Meaning if she went there more often, she might run into him.

Meaning maybe she could give him her mom's poem.

Her heart beat to hard that she thought it was going to jump out of her chest. Her mom would have been beyond excited to have Griffin Chase sing a song dedicated to her.

She ran all the way home, bursting through the door and sprinting up the stairs to her room. Dumping her bag's contents onto the bed, she looked for the journal. She scrambled to open it, searching for the loose piece of paper.

Here. She smoothed it open and read it. You moved away...

Closing her eyes, she imagined Griffin Chase singing it. It'd be perfect.

It was one last thing she could do for her mom—the only way to keep her alive.

It'd be a great way to get back at the –sons of anarchy.

Rachel pictured their faces when they heard Griffin Chase used her poem for song lyrics. Especially Madison's. It'd be the best thing ever.

She flopped onto her bed, hugging the paper to her chest. She'd get him to do it. She'd get him to use it for a song, and it'd be beautiful in so many ways.