Credence

by Penelope Douglas

  He kisses me, his mouth moving stronger and deeper as he takes hold of my face with one hand and tries to pry the pills away with another. His tongue swirls like a cyclone down to my toes, and I whimper, my muscles going weak. I lose the pills and the next second I hear them drop into the trash again.

  He wraps his arms around me, and I don’t realize he’s carrying me until he lays me on our bed upstairs.

  He always gets his way. Damn him.

  I make a mental note to go dig the pills out again before Jake burns the trash.

  Kaleb and I stare at each other as he takes a bite of chicken and feeds me the other half of the piece. I sit in his lap at the table, trying to hide my smile, but he can’t, because he’s grinning like we have a secret.

  Which we do. We’re not actually trying to get pregnant, are we? I haven’t dug the pills out yet, but leaving him is the last thing I want to do. It seems nice, the idea of building a family with him. He’s almost twenty-two. He seems ready for it all.

  I let out a breath, eating a forkful of scrambled egg and loading up the utensil again, feeding him some. Breakfast is a hodgepodge of leftovers because we climbed back in bed this morning, and I didn’t have time for anything else.

  I guess we’re technically not making a baby yet. I just started my period, and I can’t get pregnant for the next several days, anyway. I can still go back on my pill.

  “Well, that’s it,” Jake says, strolling into the kitchen and whipping off his gloves, tossing them and his keys onto the counter. “The roads are open.”

  A bike speeds off outside, and I guess that’s Noah, not wasting any time to go see his friends.

  I drop my eyes, though, my stomach sinking a little. I’d rather have more winter. I look at Kaleb, seeing him watch me, and right now, I’m half-tempted to drag him into the garage, pack up the snowmobiles, and run to the fishing cabin. The snow up there will last for another month. Another blissful month of quiet.

  “Where’s that woman sleeping tonight?” Jake asks.

  He turns to face us with his coffee in his hand.

  Oh, that’s right. We can’t escape to the cabin anyway. Now that the roads are clear, Mirai can stay here at the house tonight.

  “My room.” I climb off Kaleb and clear our empty plate. “Thank you for…welcoming her,” I tell Jake.

  He looks down at me, his eyes hooded in aggravation. “I’d rather have a few more months of winter.”

  And he leaves, disappearing into the shop.

  Yeah.

  I agree.

  Scooping out a hefty serving of Swedish Fish, I dump them in the white paper bag and close the container.

  I have Peach Rings, cinnamon bears, gourmet jellybeans, and Spencer is boxing up some chocolate-covered almond clusters for me now.

  I glance out the window, seeing Kaleb across the street, loading some lumber into the truck bed. He’s going to try to his hand at carpentry by making us a headboard, and I’m going to paint it.

  I wish he hadn’t insisted on coming to town with me. After what happened at the bar on my birthday, it’s only a matter of time before the police—or the Motocross guys—get a whiff of his presence in town.

  Some giggles go off near me, and I look over the jar of Hot Tamales to see a couple of young women by the retro-candy collection glancing at me and whispering. They round the aisle, their eyes dropping down my clothes, and then they laugh to themselves before leaving again.

  I look down at myself, puzzled. I’m not dressed weird.

  Although I am wearing Noah’s muddy old riding boots, and my jeans are a little dirty from chores this morning.

  After Jake cleared the roads, we decided to get dressed, get our individual jobs done, and get to town. Best to rip off the Band-Aid quickly and get used to being in the world again. We met up with Noah for cheeseburgers, stocked up on gas in case another storm comes in, and hit the grocery store, loading up on all the fresh produce.

  Kaleb went to the hardware store, and I detoured for candy.

  I stare at my clothes. I’m not so out of place. Maybe less manicured than I was in September, but…

  I look down at my nails, seeing the dirt underneath, and the little cuts on my hands from all the labor I’ve been up to over the winter.

  Okay, I’m not manicured at all anymore. I catch myself in the mirror on the back of a shelf, seeing the loose threads in my dark blue cable knit sweater that also has a black stain from lying too close to a fire. My hair desperately needs a trim, and I’m tan from being outside, my freckles popping like never before.

  I haven’t worn make-up or straightened my hair in months. Mirai won’t recognize me.

  I laugh and head to the register.

  “My mom told me to bring home a girl like you someday,” someone says.

  I look over, setting my bag on the counter as a young guy approaches me. Spencer weighs my bag, and I study the stranger. He looks vaguely familiar. One of Noah’s friends?

  “You’re their cousin, right,” he asks, leaning on the glass candy case. “Noah and Kaleb Van der Berg’s?”

  I nod, seeing Spencer hand me the candy again. “I’ll put it on your tab,” he says.

  I smile. My tab. Cool.

  Turning my attention back to the guy, I hold out my hand. “Tiernan, hey.”

  He shakes it. “Kenneth.” He stares at my face. “Would you like to get some pizza?”

  Oh. Uh… I open my mouth to refuse, but then someone is there, pulling my hand away out of Kenneth’s. I look up to see Kaleb glaring down at the him, the blond guy standing up straight and drawing in a breath like he knows to back off.

  Kaleb threads his fingers through mine and leads me away from the handsome young man, out the door, and across the street.

  “He’s just flirting,” I tease.

  Kaleb’s eyebrow cocks, and his lips twist to the side.

  “I know, right?” I joke. “It’s hard work, guarding a beauty like me.”

  He snorts, and I smile as we stop at the truck.

  “I gotcha some candy worms.” I dangle the bag in front of him, but he’s not the least bit interested. Taking my face in his hands, he steals a kiss instead, and I revel in his smooth chin, jaw, and cheek. I love to kiss him. Especially when he’s clean-shaven.

  “Come on. We’re going to be late,” I tell him, reaching for the door handle.

  He moves to open the door for me but stops, his eyes rising and looking over my shoulder, the color draining from his face.

  I follow his gaze.

  Cici Diggins strolls past us, her steps slowing and her eyes locked on Kaleb.

  But my stare falls to her stomach. Her pregnant stomach.

  My lungs empty. No.

  I jerk my eyes to Kaleb, seeing his jaw flex and his chest rise and fall in shallow breaths. How far along is she? We’ve been away from town for six months.

  Unless she’s carrying twins, she’s farther along than that, which would mean…

  Is it Kaleb’s?

  I can’t swallow. I can’t breathe.

  I look over my shoulder again to see her saunter up to us. “Let me guess,” she says. “You’re going through the math in your head right now?”

  She smirks, looking between us. “We’ll be in touch,” she whispers to Kaleb.

  She walks away, and I blink, trying to keep the tears away. Please. I hold my stomach because it hurts. Not this.

  “Kaleb?” I murmur.

  She was pregnant before the snow. She was pregnant well before the snow.

  But he says nothing, simply opening the truck door and ushering me inside quickly.

  He slams the door, rounds the front of the vehicle, and climbs into the driver’s side, speeding off toward home. The lumber in the bed bangs against the tailgate, and the groceries spill in the backseat.

  I hold the handlebar above the door, staring over at him. “Did you know she was pregnant?” I asked.

  His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel, an
d he won’t look at me.

  “She’s been pregnant a while. Is it yours?”

  Still, nothing. Did he know? He seemed surprised. But maybe that’s what she was upset about in the cave that day. She was pregnant, and he didn’t want her.

  Anger curdles inside me, and I breathe hard. “Did you know?” I demand. “Did you know last fall?”

  He punches the gas, taking us across the train tracks, toward the highway leading home.

  If it’s his, Cici will be in our lives forever. She’ll have his first child, not me. I’ll never have that.

  Won’t he say anything? Nod or shake his head? Why won’t he do anything? I know he can!

  “Just let me out,” I choke out, the tears threatening. “Stop the truck.”

  He keeps driving.

  “Stop the truck!” I yell.

  Finally, he looks at me, shaking his head.

  “No?” I say. “No, what? Talk. I know you know how! Is the baby yours?”

  Just communicate. Do something! But he keeps his mouth closed, and I’ve had enough.

  Sliding over, I punch the brake, stalling the truck, and he swerves the wheel as it comes to a stop. I hop out, seeing him follow.

  He stops me at the front of the car, coming in for me.

  But I back away. “No,” I tell him. No kissing. No holding. “Speak. Right now. Is it yours? Did you know?”

  He draws in quick, shallow breaths, staring at me, speechless. If he didn’t know, then he could shake his head, and I wouldn’t hate him. We could go from there.

  If he knew, maybe he kept it quiet because he knew he’d be up on the mountain all winter, and maybe he didn’t anticipate we’d fall in love. Maybe he thought he could run from this like he runs from everything.

  Just talk to me.

  His beautiful green gaze falls to the space between us, and there’s nothing he wants to say to me.

  The whir of an engine grows louder, and I know it’s Noah on his way home.

  He pulls up next to us, planting his shoes on the ground. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  I give Kaleb four more seconds, waiting for him to do or say anything.

  When he doesn’t, I climb on the bike behind Noah and wrap my arms around him.

  “Let’s go.” I bury my head in his back. “Hurry.”

  We speed off, and for the first time, Kaleb doesn’t pull me back to him.

  Tiernan

  I run up the stairs of the deck, breezing past my uncle and all the commotion in the shop as I hear the truck tires grind the gravel behind me. I pick up my pace.

  Noah made good on his threat to put me on the website and scheduled an impromptu photoshoot with the motorcycles. I won’t take good pictures today, but at least it keeps me away from Kaleb.

  I wipe the tear from my face.

  “What’s wrong?” I hear Jake ask.

  “I don’t know,” Noah tells him as I hurry for the front door. “She ran away from Kaleb.”

  “Tiernan!” my uncle shouts.

  “Let’s just do this,” I call out, swinging open the door. Where’s the photographer?

  An SUV and a Jeep sit parked in the driveway, and I know they’re setting up lighting and such in the garage, but I should take a moment to compose myself.

  I need to get in my room—my room—and lock the goddamn door for a few minutes.

  Why was he in such a hurry to toss my birth control this morning? He didn’t even think about it. He didn’t hesitate. It was like a lightbulb went on and the solution to a problem he’d been facing finally occurred to him.

  I stalk through the living room, but a hand wraps around my arm and pulls me around. I jerk out of Kaleb’s hold, glaring at him through watery eyes.

  “Kaleb, stop,” his father orders, entering the house.

  Noah follows. “What happened with you two?”

  But I just stare at Kaleb. “This is why you wanted me pregnant,” I tell him. “You wanted to trap me before I found out about her.”

  “Pregnant?” Jake repeats. He darts his eyes to Kaleb. “What did you do?”

  Kaleb’s face is flushed, sweat glistens on his neck, and his eyes look pained. He’s wrecked.

  And quiet. Always quiet, because if he doesn’t have to address any problems, then they don’t exist.

  I barely have the strength to breathe. “Even now, you won’t talk to me,” I say quietly.

  Jake inches in. “Are you pregnant?”

  “No.” I shake my head, my sadness turning to anger as I look at Kaleb. “Thank God,” I spit out.

  Kaleb steps in, hovering over me with an edge to his expression. He’s mad now.

  Noah pulls him back. “Kaleb, back off her.”

  Jake presses a hand into his chest.

  But Kaleb throws them off, growling, and I back up, tears welling again as he swoops in and picks me up, holds my face and forces his mouth on mine. I choke down a sob, the assault of his scent reminding me how happy we were just this morning.

  Before we came back to the world.

  I push him away, crying out as Noah and Jake pull him off me.

  I breathe hard, falling to my feet and backing up, farther away from him.

  “Cici Diggins is pregnant,” I tell Jake and Noah. “Very pregnant.”

  Kaleb doesn’t look at anyone but me, but I see Jake and Noah staring at me, stunned.

  “It could be anybody’s,” Noah argues.

  “Yours?”

  “No,” he retorts like I’m crazy. “God, no. I didn’t sleep with her.”

  “Did she say it was Kaleb’s?” Jake straightens, releasing his son.

  “She didn’t have to,” I tell him, but I lock eyes with Kaleb.

  If it’s his, I might learn to live with it, even though that means living with her in our lives.

  If he knew about it all along, though…

  “Say something,” I tell him. “Say something to me.”

  Anything, please.

  “Or write something, then,” I ask. “Tell me anything. Tell me you love me.”

  He just stands there, though.

  And I stop crying, my heart broken but not. Maybe it’s just not there anymore, because I draw in a deep breath, knowing someone will have his kids, but it will never be me. I can’t live in another house where someone I love won’t talk to me.

  “We’re all set,” I hear a woman say from the kitchen.

  It only takes a moment, but I blink away the tears and follow her into the shop, desperate to get away.

  “Let’s get you ready,” she chirps.

  I nod, pushing Kaleb and Cici out of my mind.

  They change me into a pair of short jean shorts and a black off-the-shoulder top that shows my belly. I sit down to have my hair styled and my make-up done, Noah having accounted for everything when bringing people up here, I guess. I feel like I’m on one of my parents’ movie sets.

  “Not too much,” the blue-haired photographer tells the make-up artist. “I want natural. I want her to look like someone the average guy can get into bed with.”

  Someone clears their throat behind us.

  “Kidding,” the lady quickly replies, and I guess Jake is standing behind me.

  Then to the artist again, she says, “You catch my drift, though, right? Pretty, not porno.”

  The man with short-cropped blond hair and tattoos on his fingers nods, blending concealer under my eyes, probably to get rid of the splotchiness from my crying.

  The stylist fluffs my waves, sprays my hair, and I open my mouth, stretching my face, because I haven’t worn make-up in so long, it’s like cake on my face.

  Noah pulls up a stool and plops down, waggling his eyebrows at me as the stylist moves to his head next.

  “Keep Kaleb away from me,” I tell him in a low voice, but it’s more a beg.

  “Sure.” He sighs. “I was in the mood to bleed today.”

  I give him a sad smile. We finish readying, and I move, as if on auto-pilot. Mirai is flying in t
onight, and whether or not she’ll recognize me is irrelevant. She’ll know things happened here, and I won’t blame her for not understanding. I don’t think I do myself anymore.

  I’m hurt, but at least I’m leaving stronger than when I came.

  “Noah?” the photographer named Juno calls.

  I straddle the dirt bike, spotting Kaleb’s black T-shirt off to my left by the shop doors, but I don’t dare look. Noah climbs on the bike behind me, jeans and bare chest, because we’re supposed to look sexy as if this image is supposed to have any basis in reality. Motocross racers will probably laugh and pick apart our lack of proper attire and equipment, but sex sells, I’m told.

  So here we go.

  He fits behind me, placing his hands on my hips. Kaleb shifts off to my left, and I think Jake steps in, stopping him.

  I lean back into Noah, the air hitting my bare stomach as I arch my back a little.

  “Not too close,” someone tells Juno. “She’s his cousin.”

  Noah snorts, his chest shaking against my back.

  I clench my teeth. “It’s not funny.”

  “It’s hilarious.”

  I roll my eyes. I guess I should laugh, too, or I’ll cry. The cousins in this house are so much closer than they realize. My hips are the least of what Noah has touched.

  Before I can stop myself, my gaze flashes to Kaleb. He leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, and his expression more pained than I’ve seen it. He stares at us—at me—like something he’s already lost, and he hasn’t the slightest clue how to get back what he wants most in the world.

  All he has to do is talk. Find a way to communicate.

  I let my eyes fall as I cock my head to the side and turn it for a candid shot, because I can’t look at the camera in case I’ve ruined my mascara.

  “I love that, Tiernan,” Juno coos. “You look amazing, honey.”

  I rest my hands on my thighs, lifting my chin a little. I guess the point of this is to feature the young faces of Van der Berg Extreme, and Noah knew this wasn’t Kaleb’s thing. I’m glad it’s Noah behind me, though. He’s who I’m safe with.

  “Look at him now,” Juno tells me.

  My throat tightens, and I’m overwhelmed. I take some deep breaths, trying to get my head back in the game.