Heart in a Box Read online

  Heart in a Box

  Ally Sky

  Translated from Hebrew: Ayelet svatitzky

  Editor: Shannon Eversoll

  Cover design: Lev Ari studio

  ISBN: 9781973285328

  Copyright© 2017 Ayelet svatitzky

  Do not duplicate, copy, photograph, record, store in a database, transmit or merge via any electronic, optic, mechanical or other means - any part of the material from this book. Any type of commercial use of the material included in this book is absolutely forbidden without the author's explicit written permission.

  Produced by Notssa

  To Mom

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Prologue

  Colin Young was the love of my life. From the moment my eyes met his in our high school's cafeteria I knew I was doomed. Especially when his chattering groupies appeared and smeared all over him rather pathetically. Yes, Colin Young was the guy everybody wanted. Whether you were an enthusiastic fan of the football team, for which he played as captain, or you were just an average girl who spent hours at the library hoping to get into college, like myself. We all had a common dream—to meet Colin's supple lips up close and personal, the same lips that had smiled at me that Monday and smashed my heart to bits.

  I could have sworn he hadn’t noticed me, that he was smiling at someone else. I was nothing short of shocked when he later approached me in the hallway, leaned nonchalantly on my locker and asked quietly if I wouldn't mind meeting that afternoon and helping him with his math homework. I'm pretty sure he said math, though it could have been literature, or history. At that point my brain turned into mush. I nodded without saying a word. He laughed and said he would come by my house at around five. I nodded again and he turned his back on me and disappeared.

  I came back to my senses after an hour or so.

  The main question I faced was: what to wear. The cold truth is I resented myself. I'd always been scornful of the girls who lost their heads over boys and spent all their time fiddling with their wardrobe instead of hitting the books and scoring another A+.

  How on earth had I become one of them in thirty seconds?!

  I blamed my seventeen-year-old hormones (biology seemed like a logical explanation for my embarrassing situation), chose a white T-shirt and jeans (skinny fit. There was a limit to how nerdy I allowed myself to look), and swore I would not stammer when Colin appeared.

  I almost succeeded. When the doorbell rang, I leapt off the couch, tried to calm my pulse, which insisted on racing like mad, thanked God for the long hours my parents spent at work and were absent from home, opened the door with a smile—and froze. My mouth actually did open in an attempt to release a word or two. 'Hello' would have been a suitable one. Even 'Hey' and maybe 'What's up?' Instead I stood there, mute, in front of blue eyes, blond hair and the smell of a guy who had just come out of the shower (after training, if I had to guess).

  Colin laughed. Again.

  "Are you going to invite me in?" was what he chose to say. I nodded like an idiot and wondered if he regretted asking for help from the stupid girl in front of him. I led him to my room and left the door open, as if something could happen between me and . . . well, this hot guy who seated himself on my bed and stared at me.

  "So," I mumbled like a fool, "you said . . ."

  "I just want to make something clear." His intense voice caused uncontrollable constriction of all sorts in my internal organs.

  "Yes?" I muttered again and cursed myself for the thousandth time.

  "I’m not enthusiastic about this," he shifted uncomfortably. I wasn’t enthusiastic either. "So if you're thinking of going 'round telling everyone . . ."

  "Telling everyone what?" What did he think was going to happen here?

  "You know, that I . . ." He raised his hand and pulled back his damp hair. I folded my hands on my chest in the hope of stabilizing my stance. I didn't want him to see my knees shaking.

  "That you . . ."

  "Don't understand."

  At that moment I didn't quite understand myself. "What don't you understand?"

  "You know . . ."

  "No," I frowned, "I don't know."

  "All this school shit." He tried to sound casual, but I got what he was saying and I got that his indifference was completely fake.

  "So you need help."

  "I guess." He leaned back on his hands and his shirt rose just above the line of his pants, revealing a line of hair leading straight to the elastic waist of his boxers. At that point, all I could do was swallow my saliva and try to stop imagining what was hiding under the boxers.

  I had a pretty good idea, in theory. I saw pictures of guys who didn't really wear anything, and I occasionally heard other girls talk in the locker rooms after sports, but I never sat in my room with a guy who let his shirt rise like that. Okay, to be honest, I never sat in my room with any guy, period.

  "Hello?" Colin's voice brought me back rather sharply from the land of fantasies I had sailed into. "Do you hear what I'm telling you?"

  "Sure, sure, you need help." I needed help at the same time. Of a psychiatrist.

  "So what are the chances you and I will have some kind of arrangement?"

  "Arrangement?"

  "You know, you'll help me with my homework, and I'll help you with . . ." He tilted his head to one side and gave me a smile that looked utterly malicious. "What is it you need help with?"

  My thoughts blurred and my cheeks turned red in a second and a half. I felt as if my face was on fire. "Why do you think you can help me with anything?"

  "Just a wild guess." He winked. "Everyone needs help with something."

  "Not me," I replied at once, tightening my hands.

  "Really?" He smiled widely and exposed his white teeth as I struggled to breathe regularly.

  "Really," I tried not to pant out loud, "no help needed, got it all covered, thank you."

  "I can't pay you." He sat up and his shirt once again covered what he had just revealed.

  "You don't need to."

  "So I guess we're done here." He rose slowly, making me step back.

  "We're…what?" I stared at him, towering over me.

  "I was hoping we'd come to some sort of arrangement." He pulled back his hair, sounding frustrated.

  "Why do we need an arrangement?"

  "What do you mean?" He stared at me with his blue eyes.

  "You said you needed help."

  "I have nothing to give you in return." His grave gaze drilled into me.

  "I don't need anything."

  "I don't need your favors."

  "No," I sounded a little more confident than I actually was, "you need help."

  "Why on earth would you help me?"

  "Because you asked me to."

  "You'd help me just 'cause I
asked?"

  "Umm…yeah?"

  "Are you for real?" He tilted his head again, examining me as if I had grown three heads.

  "Insults are not the way to get my help," I muttered.

  "Sorry! I'm just not used to girls like you."

  "You mean girls who don't drool all over you and lose their shirt before you even ask?" I was stunned by my own words.

  "Yeah, exactly what you said." He laughed, and his laughter sounded magical. I may not lose my shirt, I thought to myself, but I certainly might drool.

  "I didn't mean to offend you."

  "You didn't, I know exactly what you're talking about." He put his hands in his pale jeans pockets. "So, you think, maybe you could . . ."

  "I could," I finished his sentence. I had already gotten the feeling he didn't enjoy pleading. "But do me one favor."

  "Sure." He shrugged his broad shoulders.

  "If I invest my time, make an effort to show up and don't bail on me. You don't have to pretend you know me when we're at school. I'm sure you're not too happy explaining how you know the 'Library Geek', but my time is valuable, please make sure it is valuable to you too." I looked at Colin with embarrassment. Where I got the courage to dictate my terms, I don't know. But I did, and Colin agreed immediately.

  "Your time is valuable," he nodded, "and you're not the ‘Library Geek.'" His lips curved into a charming smile.

  "I have no problem being the ‘Library Geek' if it gets me to college," I confessed quietly.

  "I'm sure you'll have no problem." At that I blushed.

  "On a scholarship," I emphasized the point. The only way I could get to the college I wanted was if they paid for it.

  "I understand."

  "Where do you wanna begin?"

  "Math." He pulled one hand out of his pocket and scratched his head. "The exam on Friday is going to kill me."

  Friday's exam was a walk in the park, but I shut my mouth.

  "Let's start," I motioned to the heavy desk in the corner. The thought of sitting close to Colin made my heart skip a beat.

  Shit! I forgot something.

  "I'll get another chair from the kitchen." I smiled in embarrassment.

  "Sounds like a good idea," Colin teased me and sat down on the wooden chair in my room. I went out into the hallway and took a deep breath.

  Colin Young, in my room, and I was acting like a child.

  He just wants you to help him, stupid. My inner voice brought me back to reality. I closed my eyes, but only for a moment. I really hope I didn't make a mistake. I really, really hope this isn't going to backfire on me, that this isn't some joke at my expense.

  Chapter 1

  "Vivian Heart!" My scream echoes through the tiny apartment, "We're going to be late!"

  It's Monday morning, my shift is about to start, and if I don't get there on time . . . I'll be there on time. If I could only get my four-and-a-half-year-old, who insists on changing her shoes for the third time this morning, out of the house. Okay, she changes her shoes every morning, but today we woke up late.

  "Sorry Mama." She comes panting, carrying her small backpack. Her blond hair is pulled up to a tight ponytail and her blue eyes are fixed on me. "I'm ready."

  She doesn't look like me. Objectively, I can testify that she didn't inherit my dark red hair nor my green eyes. At least I can take comfort in the fact that she has inherited her sharp mind from the right person.

  "Hurry." I open the front door and turn to lock the house before rushing the bouncing creature toward the battered, silver Toyota also known as my car. After buckling Vivian up in her seat, I jump behind the wheel, say a prayer and turn the key. Thank God.

  I swing into reverse and exit the driveway. In seven minutes I'll drop Viv at her daycare, in twelve minutes I'll start my shift and, with a little luck, no one will notice. I can't afford to lose this job.

  Although I am just a saleswoman at Blant Furniture store, it's the one place that has agreed to give me only the morning shifts, and the tight salary pays the bills. Barely. Not that I complain, I have no right to. I've made my choices. I use my family's help much more than I would like, but that's how it goes. Vivian is worth it. All the sacrifices, all the losses.

  "Mama, the light is green," Viv calls from the backseat.

  "Sorry, sweetie." I accelerate and cross the intersection. Morning traffic can be brutal. If it was up to me, we'd live in a quieter part of town, but this is all I can afford—the same small house I've been living in since I was eighteen. Not far from the city-center, it’s within driving distance of everything.

  Our town is a strange place to live in. It seems that it hasn't yet decided whether it is a small town, where everyone meddles in each other's lives, or a modern city, where people maintain a safe distance and privacy. Just an hour's drive from Dallas, it has an excellent high school, convenient public transport and parks. In recent years, tall buildings have begun rising at a rapid pace, changing the landscape beyond recognition, but I suppose it's like that everywhere. The high-tech offices and the new cultural centers are the city's way of attracting new residents.

  "You're dreaming." Vivian laughs loudly. Yes, she got his laughter too. That bastard, couldn't he leave me one thing?

  "We all dream," I answer her, smiling in the rearview mirror. "What are you dreaming of?"

  "An Elsa dress." Her answer is expected.

  "For your birthday," I reply, as usual. I don't have one cent to spare. Luckily the dress isn't that expensive.

  "And I want an Elsa cake and a trampoline for the back yard," she adds.

  "We'll see about that." I force my laughter. She would have to make do with the dress. She knows I can't buy her a trampoline for the yard.

  "We're here," my beauty calls out. I park in the designated place, unbuckle my seatbelt, get out of the car, pull Viv out of her car seat and rush inside. Mrs. Robbins greets us as she helps Vivian with her goodbye.

  "Have a wonderful day," I kiss her golden hair.

  "You too, Mama." She sends me a kiss in the air, I pretend to catch it and stick it to my cheek, then I run out the door, and into my car.

  Time to go to work.

  Sixteen minutes later I lock my Toyota in the parking lot of the shopping center, curse the traffic jams that have caused me a longer than usual delay, and hasten my steps to the shop, making an effort to ignore the sign hanging on the door.

  For Rent.

  Mr. Blunt hung it twenty-eight days ago and from that moment we all got nervous. Does this mean now I'll have to look for a new job?

  Henry, who has been working with me for two years, wasted no time opening the paper and circling every position he found fit. We both know this won't be easy. Knowing each other since middle school, Henry is pretty much the only friend I have these days. After all, we were both the “Library Geeks” who had big dreams…and never fulfilled them.

  You gave up everything for that bastard and see what you got in return?

  I open the store's door and find Henry is staring at me disapprovingly from behind the cash register. I hand him my bag and he pushes it under the dark wooden counter.

  "You know," I'm afraid he's going to start with another mathematical explanation like he likes to do, "you're late an average ten days a month. You're losing about five hundred and twenty-two dollars every year."

  "About?" The calculated accuracy makes me smile. "Couldn't you round it to five hundred?"

  "You know what I mean." He doesn't seem to like my mocking tone.

  "How many cups of coffee could I buy for that sum?" I lower my head with a grin.

  "Starbucks?" He frowns as he calculates, but I hasten to stop him.

  "It was a joke."

  "Oh." He shrugs.

  "Did you find a job?" I change the subject, to both of our relief.

  "No. You?"

  "Nah."

  "Have you even been looking?" He knows me too well.

  "Didn't have the time," I lie, knowing he won't say anything.
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  "Oh."

  "We need to expand your vocabulary, dear." I fix my red mane to a tight ponytail and push my locks behind my ears.

  "Mr. Blunt will be in at ten," Henry updates me. "Do you want to wash the floor or dust?"

  Indeed, such a difficult choice. Mr. Blunt, our boss, is in his sixties and, if it weren't for his back problems, which prevent him from cleaning the store and moving heavy furniture around, I might not have a job.

  "Dust," I reply without thinking too much about it.

  "Okay." Henry straightens his white button shirt, which rests carelessly on his body. His brown hair is as messy as it is on every other morning. Come to think of it, Henry isn't a lean, awkward guy, as you’d expect him to be given his mannerisms. He's tall, his eyes are brown, and when he smiles his eyes smile too, which makes him look good.

  Not my taste, but I'm sure he's someone's taste. "You have to get a haircut," I throw him a glance as I make my way to the storeroom.

  "In three days," he mumbles from behind me, as we get ready for another day of perfect boredom.

  How long have we got left here? Neither of us has a clue.

  "I didn't hit him back!" Vivian stands in front of me in the middle of our living room, an angry look on her face, her hands folded and tears of insult running down her cheeks. So she did inherit something from me after all. Great.

  "Mrs. Robbins said," I answer quietly.

  "She's lying!"

  "Vivian, Mrs. Robbins doesn't lie," I try not to raise my voice. It would be easiest to send her to her room—

  To our room, I remind myself instantly. The lousy house has one bedroom, in which I managed to cram a bed for my child. Colin and I rented the place, in what seems to be another life. We were only eighteen and had plans to move after I gave birth. Plans I had shelved for lack of choice. At least we have a back yard and parking, I try to cheer myself up.

  "He started it," Vivian's weeping interrupts my memories.

  "You know it doesn't matter who started it, we don't hit."

  "He deserved it." She wipes the tears with her little palm.