“Here.” Ashley bursts back into my room, not even sparing Matt a glance. “Vinegar and baking soda.” She shoves the white bottle and orange box into my hands. “Go scrub one more time. I just can’t stand it and Ben will notice.” Matt rolls his eyes and slips out of the room. He doesn’t see Ashley watching him leave.
I stumble over the pile of towels littering the bathroom floor, a sea of green-and-yellow cotton, and crank the shower knob. Ashley’s right, I do still stink. I can smell my hair every time I take a breath.
It smells like Bee.
A skunk would have been worse, but not by much.
Ashley is sitting in my desk chair when I walk into the bedroom, staring out the window with a distant frown. I twist the towel around my hair one more time before yanking it out. “I think I got it this time. If you don’t mind the faint vinegar smell.”
She continues to stare out the window.
“Ash? Earth to Ashley? Don’t you want to smell my hair, since all of this is your idea?”
“Shh!” she hisses, waving at me to come closer.
My stomach drops, cold drifting over my damp skin as I edge closer. What am I going to see when I look out the window? Better yet, what am I going to have to explain for damage control? “What is it?”
“I see something. Out there.” She points to the trees, near the stump.
“What, like an animal? It could be Old Man Watson.”
“No, he’s by his barn, working on that ancient tractor. This is something else.” She leans forward, her nose nearly touching the glass.
“A deer?”
“Maybe,” she says doubtfully. “But it looked bigger. It just won’t come out of the shadows long enough for me to get a good look.” Ashley sits back in the chair. “You know, I can’t look at the forest without . . .” She stops, and I know where she’s going with that sentence. The forbidden zone.
“I don’t know why it got to me this time. Kelsey and them, on the track. I mean, it’s not the first time someone has accidently, or even purposely, brought it up, but I . . . I don’t know. It just bothered me. Reed and Sam would be graduating this year with Matt, and sometimes I can’t believe they’re not here. I still look for my dad to be sitting in his rocking chair when I wake up in the morning, sipping coffee and watching the news.”
I stare out the window, seeing nothing but memories.
“You really can’t talk about it, can you?”
“If I don’t talk about it, I don’t have to deal with it.”
“You’d think I’d be the one like that, wouldn’t you? But I don’t have anyone to fill the gaps like you. You still have a brother and father. I guess that’s why I think about it so much.” She taps her fingernails on my desk absently. “Does Matt ever talk about it? I mean, he lost his twin brother . . . I don’t know, it just seems so unreal sometimes.”
“It’s real enough to me. You held my hand through three funerals. Have you forgotten that?”
“I haven’t forgotten anything. But don’t you ever get tired of being a Roberts like I get tired of being a Hutton? This town will never forget us. I just want to be anyone else but Ashley Hutton. I want to go somewhere no one knows my name or face.”
“The way this house is, it might as well have been yesterday.”
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I know. All the more reason for us to leave next year. Haven’t you been looking at colleges? We could go together, you know. Can you imagine us as roommates? Think of all the awesome clothes you’ll have!” Ashley spins around in the chair, her arms thrown up in excitement. “Seriously, though, think about it, Leah. We could go anywhere. Just pick a place. I can get a marketing degree anywhere.”
“Marketing? That’s what you’ve decided on?”
“Yep, it’s the one thing I could think of that won’t do me any good if I live in this town. Therefore, I must move on to bigger things.”
“I think nearly anywhere is bigger than Zavalla.”
“True, so it shouldn’t be too hard.” Ashley peers at me. “You are leaving, right? And I don’t just mean driving down the road to the junior college. I mean leaving, as in only-coming-back-on-important-holidays kind of leaving.”
“Of course,” I say. “There’s nothing here worth staying for.” The words feel like ash on my tongue, and if I could unspeak them, I would. It doesn’t matter that it’s a lie. It feels like a betrayal. Because I know now, no matter what happens, I’ll never leave this place. My future is now entwined with his, for better or worse. I may leave this house, but it won’t be by car, to a dorm room, or even another home.
It will be by my own two feet, on a well-worn path through the forest, to live beneath the stars in a world that is completely my own.
chapter twenty
Sam is ten minutes older than Matt. It doesn’t matter to me, since they’re both older than I am, but they argue about it endlessly. “I’m older, so I go first.” Sam pushes Matt out of the way, stumbling past him in tall cowboy boots.
“No, I’m taller, so the biggest person goes first,” Matt argues.
“Well, Reed is older and taller than both of you, so he should go first,” I say, pulling on their shirts as we hike through the trees.
“Yeah, Reed, you go up there.” Ashley pushes her brother to the front of the line. “That way the ghosts can get you first.”
Matt and Sam stop cold, and I run into them. “There aren’t ghosts,” Sam says. “That’s kid stuff.” But he’s no longer trying to get in front of Matt either.
“Well, I’m sure something’s living in Aldridge. It’s still got buildings, so something probably lives there.”
“Could be Bigfoot,” Dad calls out as he and Mr. Hutton follow in our wake. “Or maybe vampires.”
“Vampires aren’t real either,” Matt says, pushing ahead. “Come on, Reed. I’ll race you there.”
Matt and Reed take off, tearing up the trail toward the town. “Hey, wait for me!” Sam yells, in the middle of dumping a rock from his boot. By the time he chases after them, they’re already gone around the bend ahead.
“They’re totally going to get lost,” Ashley says, reaching back to grab her dad’s hand and letting him swing her forward and into a twirl, like a dancer.
“Let them run,” Dad says. “They need to burn energy and I’d like to be asleep before midnight.”
“Did we bring the marshmallows?” I ask.
“Sure did.” Dad ruffles my hair. “I wouldn’t forget my favorite pumpkin’s favorite treat.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
By the time we reach the town, Matt and Reed are already inside one of the buildings, yelling and laughing. But Sam is standing just outside, arms crossed, eyes wide.
“Hey, buddy, did you catch them?” Dad asks.
Sam shakes his head.
“You okay? Did you get hurt?” Dad walks over and grabs his shoulders.
Sam shakes his head and mumbles, “No,” then walks into the ruins where the boys are.
“Hey, guys, I brought the spray paint,” Mr. Hutton says, tossing his backpack onto the ground. While the boys rush to get their cans, I walk into the building. Vines trail up the walls like an indoor garden, reaching for the sunlight that pours down through the caved-in roof. The only solid wall has been covered in spray-painted names, the vines ripped away to reveal gray stones that are now a rainbow of colors. Matt and Reed rush to it, while Sam trails behind. It’s so out of character for him that I ask him what’s wrong.
He glances around, and then shrugs. “Nothing.”
“Then why are you acting like something’s wrong?”
Sam waits until Ashley walks by, then continues. “I just . . . I thought I saw something.”
“What? Where?”
“In the woods. When I was chasing Matt, I got another rock in my boot. I stopped to get it out, and when I looked up, something was watching me.”
“Like an animal?”
“I don’t know,” Sam whispers.
; “Well, what did it look like?”
“Like . . . a person covered with fur. Taller than Dad.”
“Are you sure? That sounds a little weird. I saw a tree back there that looked like a person reaching up into the sky. It was probably something like that. Shadows, maybe.”
“Maybe.”
“Are you going to tell Dad?”
“No, it’s stupid.” He shakes the bottle of spray paint. “Just forget it.”
Ashley’s stomach growls as the smell of pizza wafts into the room. “Is that pizza?”
“Matt’s probably having a snack.” I dust my cheeks with Ashley’s blush, barely enough to notice.
“You think he’d share?”
“You know we’re going to dinner in two hours, right?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be nervous. I don’t like eating on dates.”
“Since when?” I gape at her.
“Since now.”
“Oh.” Right. Because it’s with my brother. “Well, let’s go make him share.”
Matt’s sitting at the kitchen table when we walk downstairs, while Mom stares at the oven, mitt on her hand and a blank look on her face.
“That’s the best thing I’ve smelled all day,” Ashley says, giving me a wicked smile. I glare at her but smile anyway. It seems like the paste for my hair finally worked.
“Hello, girls. Would you like some pizza?” Mom says absently.
“Yes, thanks for letting me come crash this weekend, Mrs. Roberts.”
“Nora, sweetheart, always Nora to you.” Mom comes out of her fog long enough to smile. “Pizza is almost ready, and I’ve already got cookies made. If you need anything else, I’m sure you can find it.”
“Are you going somewhere?” I ask.
“Yes, actually,” Dad says suddenly, appearing from his office with a stack of file folders in hand. Mom glances at him, her level stare meeting his. I’d swear something passes between them. “Your mother and I will be in late tonight. The Becker family invited us over for dinner.” Dad glances down at his watch. “Nora, you should probably get ready.”
“Oh, you’re right,” Mom says as she glances at the clock on the wall. She pulls the pizza out and places it on the stovetop, steam rising up into the vent. “Leah, cut this for me. I completely forgot the time.” Mom lays the pizza cutter on the counter and tosses the oven mitt beside it.
“Sure, got it,” I say, watching her carefully. She’s hurrying, but in a good way, like she’s excited about this. The last time I checked, she wasn’t too crazy about having to have dinner at other peoples’ homes. “Have a good time.”
Ten minutes later they pull out of the driveway.
“Ben’s on his way over,” Matt says, eyeing my wet hair.
“What?” I choke down my bite of pizza. “He’s not supposed to be here for another hour.”
“He wanted to come over early.”
“Okay, we’ve got work to do.” Ashley grabs her drink, holds one slice with her teeth, and grabs a handful of cookies.
“You want a plate?” I ask.
“Nommgud,” she mumbles, taking the stairs two at a time. A few seconds later her voice calls back clearly, “Get up here, Leah!”
“Kill me now.” I drag myself out of my chair, grabbing one of Mom’s homemade chocolate-chip cookies. “Okay, wish me luck.”
“You’re going to run out, eventually.”
The look he gives me tells me he’s not talking about Ashley.
“This dance is kind of lame,” Ashley says, sitting next to me at one of the tables that line the cafeteria. Matt and Ben are at the buffet table, loading up plates of snacks to bring back to us. My feet are aching in these shoes, and I dread getting up again to dance, mainly because I almost can’t look Ben in the eye without this overwhelming guilt.
“Well, it’s a homecoming dance in the cafeteria. What do you expect?”
“More. Of everything.”
“You’ve been dancing with Matt, though. Isn’t that good?” Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?
“It’s fun, I guess. He’s not really into it, though. He got kinda pissed when Kelsey walked in with that new guy.”
“If he wanted to be with Kelsey, he would. He wouldn’t even care if we weren’t at a dance where she could show off her new date so soon.”
“But that’s just it. He doesn’t seem to care. About anyone.”
“Come on, Ash. You know Matt. That’s just how he is.”
“But why? Maybe he’s more messed up than either of us, and we just never realized it.”
I’m still thinking about what Ashley said when the boys arrive at our table.
“Okay, we’ve got a destination.” Ben points to a group of boys standing near the spiked punch. “Charlie Becker said his parents are out of town tonight.”
“Wait. Are we leaving?” I ask.
Ben smiles, glancing at my feet. “Do you want to dance again?”
“Please, no. But . . . the Beckers’. That’s where Mom and Dad are. Didn’t they say they were having dinner at the Beckers’ house?”
“Well, Charlie said they’re gone. His mom is visiting her mother and his dad is going hog hunting with friends. It’s just him and his sister.”
“Are you sure they said Becker?” Matt asks me.
“Of course, I mean, I think. You didn’t hear him say that?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, does it? They won’t be back until later, either way.”
chapter twenty-one
It’s past midnight when we get home, and Mom and Dad still aren’t back yet. Matt parks the car, and Ashley and I head for the door. “We smell like a bonfire.” I glance over my shoulder, expecting Mom and Dad to come driving up any minute.
“Well, who knew the wind would be so bad? It’s about to rain, anyway.”
“We’re going to have to wash our hair again. I don’t want them asking questions in the morning.”
“Fine, you go first,” Ashley says. “That way I don’t have to hurry.”
Ten minutes later, I switch places with Ashley. Just as she turns on the water in the shower, I hear tapping on my window when I walk in from the bathroom. I freeze, wet hair dripping into a puddle on the wooden floor, the dropped towel lying in a useless pile alongside it.
Thank God I put on my pajamas in the bathroom. I will never not do that again.
The boy’s silhouette is framed by the curtains, and after closing the door, I rush to the window. “It’s late,” I whisper nervously. “Were you waiting for me?”
“Yes.”
“I . . . went out with some friends.” I jump when lightning splits the sky in the distance, but it doesn’t faze him. His faint smile and green eyes flood me with a rush of memories from the night before. It must show on my face, because his smile widens. So when thunder drums around us and fat drops of rain start to fall, showering with relentless ferocity, I do the most stupid thing I can think of. “Come in?”
I stumble away from the window after nearly slipping on the puddle of water beneath it. The boy slides into the room with sinuous grace, and for a moment I seriously question my sanity. He takes up way more space than I anticipated. My room has suddenly shrunk now that he’s standing in it. While he looked lean in the woods, now he looks broad and agile, like a living piece of the forest standing here in stark contrast to my colorful, girlie room. When he shields his eyes, I immediately turn off the overhead lights, leaving only the bedside lamp on.
Panic sets in, and my heart feels like it’s going to race right out of my body. He doesn’t move, or at least his body doesn’t, but his eyes are zipping over everything in my room, taking it all in faster than the lightning strikes in the distance. I try to look at everything from his point of view, and suddenly feel childish. There are at least twenty stuffed animals on the bed and around the room, posters of favorite childhood movies and TV shows plastered on the walls, and even a few toys that remain on shelves, untouched for years but too sentimental to
trash.
And there’s also my pile of dirty laundry in the corner that smells like Bee, along with my clean laundry from yesterday piled on my desk to fold. Most noticeable is the bright yellow bra lying on top. If I can’t move my cement legs to hide it, I’m going to pretend it doesn’t exist.
“I definitely need to redecorate,” I mumble to myself. “Serves me right for not doing laundry today.” He glances at me in his perusal of the room, and I swear he smirks.
What must he think of all this?
What do I think of all this?
I think I just let a wild boy from the forest into my bedroom on a Sunday and I’m probably going to hell for it.
Or maybe that’s just my father talking in my head.
Curiosity satisfied, he turns to me, eyes drifting down. The corner of his mouth ticks again, and something flickers in his eyes.
I glance down, and my mortification is complete.
Oh. Of course I had to put on these pajamas. I cross my arms and fight the urge to swear. I’m throwing them away. I absolutely don’t care that my deceased great-aunt gave them to me three years ago for my birthday. Nope. Don’t care.
Sparkling pink unicorns.
Something about this situation is on the verge of hysterical, and the desire to laugh is overwhelming. The window is still open, and rain is starting to trickle in, the widening puddle creeping across the floor to merge with the one from my wet hair. I pick up the towel and toss it toward the window, hoping it will land in the right spot and catch most of the rain. I’m afraid he’ll feel trapped if I close it. The last thing I want is for him to leave.
He moves toward me without warning, and well within my range of personal space. I can feel his breath on my face as he reaches out to touch my hair, and the damp strands leave his fingers shining. “I missed you.” His whispered voice drifts across my skin.
“I missed you too.”
With a smile he presses his forehead to mine, our fingers finding each other and twisting together.
“How long have you been waiting?”
“Forever.”
I swear my heart is going to burst right out of my chest. The sound encompasses me, as if it’s echoing around the room. He looks at the door, and I realize the dull thrumming isn’t coming from me.
The Shadows We Know by Heart Page 15
