As soon as she was gone, I poured myself another cup of coffee and headed upstairs.
But when I pushed the door open, the room wasn’t empty. Leah was still there, sitting on the floor with the comforter pooled around her like a half-melted cocoon. There was a notebook open on her lap, and as I watched, she flipped a page, reading its contents with the kind of concentration usually reserved for standardized tests.
I shut the door behind me, fast as I could. “What are you still doing here?”
She looked up with a start, snapping the notebook closed like it was a porn site and I was her mom. I glanced at it, suddenly curious; it was one of those marble composition books, and someone had written the words CASE FILE 6 on it, all in capital letters.
“Sorry,” she said. “I … got distracted.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she mumbled, and shoved the notebook under Heather’s dresser. There were about eight inches of space between the dresser and the carpet—and nearly all of it was taken up by papers. Notebooks, folders, loose leaf. “I heard the door. Did they leave?”
“Aunt Holly and Grandma did. My friends are still around. So keep it quiet.” As she got up and moved toward the window, my eyes wandered back to the papers under the dresser. I set my coffee down on the nightstand. “Are those Heather’s?”
“And mine,” she said, following my gaze. “We used to …”
But her mouth contorted, and she stopped speaking, and suddenly I just knew that she was right on the verge of crying.
“Hey, do you think we’re related?” The question tumbled out of my mouth before I’d even decided to ask it. Anything to stop her from crying, I guess.
Leah blinked, startled. “Huh?” she said.
I shrugged, like it’d been a perfectly normal question. “I just meant, you know, my family’s from here. And I was wondering if this is the kind of town where everyone’s related to each other.”
Leah laughed—not entirely kindly. “Are you saying we all look the same to you?”
“I’m just asking a question. It’s a small town, you know? You hear things about small towns.”
“Sure thing, newbie,” she said, putting one hand on her hip, posing a little. “Come to think of it, I do have this brother who’s also my uncle, and two of my thirteen sisters are engaged to the same guy because there aren’t enough men to go around, and—”
“Oh, shut up,” I said with a laugh.
“And I also cook meth in my secret cabin in the woods,” she continued, “because a girl’s gotta make money somehow, right, and they won’t let me work down in the coal mines with the menfolk because it’s so terribly horribly unladylike.”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” I said, laughing as I held my hands up in surrender. “Not all small towns are inbred cesspools.”
She grinned. “Nope.”
I shook my head and finished off my coffee.
“But to answer your question,” she went on, her face settling into a more serious expression, “your family’s been here since basically the dawn of time, right? So for you, probably, yeah, lots of relatives. You should ask your aunt. But my family moved here from Pennsylvania when I was five. Both my parents grew up in Europe.”
“Hmm.” So much for that theory.
“Why?”
“No reason. Just wondering.”
“Weird thing to wonder.” She cast a glance over at the window. “I guess I should probably see if my poor bike survived the night.”
Without waiting for a reply, she heaved herself to her feet, opened the window, and crawled out onto the roof, leaning over far enough that I felt the urge to reach out and pull her back in. But she knew what she was doing, so I stopped myself.
After a moment, she crawled back inside, looking distinctly relieved. “Looks like it’s fine! Thank the Great Muppet God. I should go. Maybe visit Jesse, make sure he’s as okay as he says… .”
“Ah yeah, Jesse,” I said. “How long have you two been together, anyway?”
“Together?” she echoed blankly. “Wait, me and Jesse?”
“Well, yeah,” I said. “I mean, a single phone call from the guy sent you biking over here without even bothering to put shoes on. I just figured …”
“We’re not—ha—no, he and Sadie have been together since ninth grade. He’s my best friend. That’s all. They’re both my best friends.”
But she’d suddenly lost the ability to look me in the eye. And when she said, “Hey, you want to make sure the coast is clear?” it was in this cagey way that reminded me of …
Well, actually, it reminded me of me. Of how I used to change the subject as fast as I could, whenever Brandy-and-Theo-as-a-couple came up in conversation with basically anyone ever. And why had I always wanted to change the subject?
Because I hadn’t wanted to let on that I was madly, crazy, head-over-heels in love with Brandy, that’s why.
A secret crush. Interesting.
All I said, though, was, “Sure.”
That was when the bedroom door opened. On the other side of it was Brandy.
BEFORE
I remember the first time my mother tried to talk to me about girls. My dad had taken the reins for most of my life, telling me where babies came from when I was little, giving me the Real Men Respect Women speech when I was in junior high, all that stuff. But it was Mom who came to my room one day last fall, stood in my doorway, and said, “When are you going to start dating?”
No intro. No segue. Just that.
The answer, of course, was, As soon as I work up the nerve to ask Brandy McAllister out—but obviously I couldn’t say that. Not to my mom. Not to anyone, really, but especially not to my mom.
So I paused my computer game and said, “I dunno. Why?”
“I’m just curious. Can’t a mom just be curious?” She sidled into my room, parking herself on the edge of my bed.
“In theory, sure,” I said. “But in practice? Like from experience? No.”
She gave me a small smile, taking a moment to tuck her jet-black hair behind her ears. “I was just talking with your aunt Mona about when your father and I first started dating. It got me thinking.”
My neck tensed up. The rest of my body followed. This was going to be a sex talk, wasn’t it. I wondered if I could make it to the fire escape in time.
“Thinking about what?” I said, my voice coming out a little higher than usual.
“Your father didn’t tell me right away,” Mom said slowly, her eyes going distant, her voice growing delicate. “About his … abilities.”
“Oh, the reaching thing,” I said, relieved beyond belief.
“Yes. That. He didn’t tell me until after we were engaged. We worked it out in the end, of course, but for a little while there … well, let’s just say I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone else. So I was wondering how you were planning to approach the situation, when it arises.”
“Mom. I’m not even dating anyone. The situation couldn’t be any further from arising.”
“And the longer it stays that way, the happier I’ll be,” she said. “But the question still stands.”
“I dunno!” I said. “I guess I’ll … figure it out when I get there.”
Disappointment flickered behind her eyes, just for a second. She sighed and stood up. “Well. As long as you keep in mind what I just told you. Will you?”
“Um, sure.” When she raised an eyebrow at me, I added, “Definitely.”
“Good,” she said, and finally left me alone.
Confusion crinkled Brandy’s forehead as she registered Leah, with her rumpled pajamas and sleep-wild hair. “So, um … this is when you tell me it isn’t what it looks like, right?”
“Does it look like I should have left by now except I didn’t?” asked Leah, without missing a beat. “Because that’s exactly what this is.”
Oh, for the love …
“Leah, come on, be nice,” I said. “Brandy’s cool. Plus she’s my gi
rlfriend.”
Leah rolled her eyes at me, but her voice was significantly less sarcastic when she spoke again. “Okay. Fine. No, this is definitely not what it looks like.”
Brandy stuck a hand on her hip. “You sure? Because it looks kind of like Aspen’s got a girl in his room, and he lied about it by saying he was gonna come up here and call his dad.”
I winced. When she put it like that, it did sound pretty bad.
Leah turned to me, shaking her head. “You lied to your girl about me? Dude. Come on.”
“Well, you were supposed to be gone by now!” I shot back.
“I told you, I got distracted!” she said. Then, to Brandy, “I’m sorry. This is so awkward. But I’m not screwing your boy toy, I promise.”
“She just slept over,” I cut in, before Leah could make this any worse. “On the floor. That’s all. Storm was really bad last night, and I wasn’t about to let her back out there on her own.”
“Um.” Brandy looked back and forth between us, uncertainty slowing her speech. “Sorry. It’s just. It’s not the sleeping-over thing. Not just the sleeping-over thing. I mean, I didn’t know she was coming over, is all. But why’d you lie just now?”
“He was covering for me,” said Leah, before I could come up with anything good. “I’m not exactly welcome here, see. Heather’s mom sort of—well, not sort of. She straight-up hates me. So your boy here was just being a good friend.”
“Oh,” said Brandy, trying for a smile. It looked kind of fake. “I, uh … guess I just didn’t know you guys were friends now.”
“Surprise,” said Leah drily. “And to be fair, he didn’t know I was coming over, either. Another friend of mine got hurt, and I only found out last night, and I came over because this family’s the source of every—”
“She needed a shoulder to cry on,” I said loudly. “And she knew I’d still be awake. And here we are.”
Leah shot me a look. So did Brandy. Yeah, I hadn’t exactly been subtle, interrupting her like that.
“Soooo anyway, I was just leaving,” said Leah. “Must erase all traces of my presence before Heather’s mom comes back and gets all vengeancey on me. Aspen, wanna walk me out?”
“Sure.” I touched Brandy’s shoulder as I passed her. The sleeve of her T-shirt was soft against my fingers. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
I reached into her, just for a second. Just long enough to find Brandy’s memory of what Leah had started to say, and her ensuing curiosity about what, exactly, my family was the source of.
“Mmhmm,” she said—but averted her eyes. Despite what I’d just taken from her. Okay, this was going to require a little more digging on my part. But first, I had to get rid of Leah.
When we got downstairs, I went outside first and did a full scan of the property. Aunt Holly and Grandma were still nowhere in sight, so I gave Leah the all-clear. Together, we went around to the side of the house, where her bike was sheltered by both the eaves and the thick-trunked tree that she’d climbed to get up into my room last night. She checked the bike for damage, and then, when she was satisfied, lifted one leg over and settled herself on the seat.
“Get home safe,” I said. “And see you around, I guess.”
Leah peered at me. “So your girlfriend doesn’t know.”
“Huh?”
“Your magical stuff. Your family. The Cliff. Whatever. She doesn’t know, right? That’s why you cut me off before? And lied?”
“Ah,” I said, rubbing at my neck. I really wished it would stop tensing up all the time. “Yeah, she doesn’t know. And I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t say anything, okay?”
Her eyebrows lifted a little, her head tilting to the side. “You don’t plan on telling her?”
“Um, hell no,” I replied.
“Ohhh, okay. Yeah. This’ll end well.”
“Hey, don’t do that. You don’t know her. You barely know me. So don’t judge.”
Leah shrugged. “I wasn’t judging. Just predicting. Anyway, give me a call, okay? If you wanna talk about … anything. People we have in common. Whatever.”
In other words: Heather. She wanted to talk about Heather. Maybe the shoulder-to-cry-on thing would turn out to be more truthful than I’d thought.
“Sure, if you want,” I said. “What’s your number?”
“You already have it.”
“I do?”
“I programmed it into your phone this morning.” She grinned. “You’re not the only phone thief around here, dude.”
Leah used her foot to flip up the kickstand, and I watched as she rode down the driveway, gravel flying in her wake.
Sure enough, when I checked the contacts in my phone, there was a new number. A new number from which I’d just gotten a text:
Aw thaaaaanks! You’re not bad yourself!
Confused, I opened the message. And laughed. Leah’s text was in response to a text from my number to hers:
Leah, this is Aspen. Don’t tell my pretty blond girlfriend I said so, but you are hawwwwt stuuuuuuff.
Shaking my head, I sent her a middle-finger emoji, followed by a smiley face. Yeah, my first impression, back in the bookstore, had been right. This girl was cool. Funny, too.
“Whatcha laughing about?” came Brandy’s voice from my doorway. She was smiling softly, and it didn’t look fake anymore. Not entirely, anyway.
“Stupid internet thing,” I said, and beckoned her closer. She sat beside me on the bed, and as I set my phone aside, I thumbed the button that put it on silent, just in case Leah texted back. “Hey, listen. Sorry I lied about Leah being here. I really just didn’t want the relatives knowing. That’s all. I’m not, like, cheating on you or anything.”
Brandy laughed. “Aspen. God. I didn’t think you were cheating. I just thought it was weird that you lied. Come on, you can’t tell me that isn’t a weird thing to lie about.”
“Yeah, fair enough,” I agreed.
From down the hall, there came the sound of the shower turning off. Theo.
“So what’s her deal?” asked Brandy. “You guys didn’t seem all that friendly last time you saw her. And didn’t you call her a jerkwad?”
I shrugged. “Sometimes she’s a jerkwad. Sometimes she’s not.”
“So she’s your frenemesis,” said Brandy, which made me laugh. “How long have you guys known each other?”
“Oh. Well, she used to be besties with Heather.” Truth. “Then they had some sort of huge fight, and now Heather’s mom hates her.” Truth, as far as I knew, but details not yet confirmed. “I met her at Heather’s funeral, and we’ve been keeping in touch.” Lie. “We’ve been texting each other at all kinds of hours ever since then, so I guess I just didn’t think it was that weird that she came over in the middle of the night.” Complete, total, utter lie.
Brandy squinted at me. “In a storm like that?”
I shrugged. “Leah has a lot of feelings. Sometimes they can’t wait for better weather, I guess.”
“Sounds like it.” She frowned again. The kind of frown where there was obviously something she wanted to say, but she wasn’t sure how—or maybe she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. That couldn’t mean anything good.
I touched her shoulder, like I was trying to comfort her, and reached into her sleeve again. There, right on the surface: her vivid memory of Leah standing in my room, her memory of Leah being all awesome at the bookstore, her memory of Leah kicking us out of the bookstore, her suspicion that I wasn’t telling her everything …
Well, that last one definitely had to go. I stripped the suspicion away, digging my will into its edges to make sure I got all of it. As soon as I let it go, she leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder. A kind of sideways hug. I put my arm around her and held her tight, closing my eyes until the reaching hangover faded away.
“I think it’s great that you’re being such a good friend to her,” said Brandy. “You’re a sweet guy.”
She sounded like she really meant it—which meant my w
ork was done. I didn’t have to take anything else away from her. Not today, at least.
“Well, you’re a sweet girl,” I said, and kissed her forehead. Which led to her straightening up again and giving me a real kiss. The kind with tongue. The kind that lasted.
At least, it lasted until Theo appeared in the doorway and went, “Ugh, get a room.”
“We did,” I said as Brandy broke the kiss with a laugh. “We’re in it.”
Theo rolled his eyes. He was already dressed in real clothes, and his hair was still slick from the shower. “Was gonna say let’s go to the lake. But …”
“Yes yes yes, lake lake lake,” said Brandy, getting to her feet. “Let me just shower first. Ten minutes, okay?”
As she darted into the hallway, Theo shook his head at me. “Ten minutes. That’ll be the day.”
“You should talk,” I said. “You were in there for like half an hour. And go wash the dishes, okay? It’s your turn.”
“Mmkay,” he said, and walked away, scrubbing his still-drying hair with a towel. Only when he was gone did I check my phone again. There was a new text from Leah:
OK, really, why did that counselor tell me Heather transferred to another school? The more I think about that, the weirder it is. Who covered up her death? Her mom? And WHY?
Those were good questions. But I had another question to add to the pile. Was it just Leah who’d been prevented from knowing about Heather’s death—or was it everyone in town? Now that I was thinking about it, hadn’t that girl Natalie even said I know Heather, present tense? Maybe Leah was onto something. Maybe this actually was a cover-up.
But as for the why of it … I really had no idea.
I hadn’t been up to the lake in almost two weeks. Not since before I’d started hooking up with Brandy. And I hadn’t been in a boat since well before that. But now that I knew my aversion to boats was totally fake, just a product of that weird bounceback thing, I knew I had to fight it. So when Theo decided on a paddleboat, I didn’t object, even though I desperately wanted to. I just went with it.
And it sucked.
Like, sucked to the point where Theo kept waxing poetic about the awesomeness of Corey, his summer girlfriend, and Brandy was basically the only one who said anything in return. I was too busy fixating on the rocking of the boat, imagining what would happen if—when—we tipped over and fell into the water, trying to convince myself that the lake was not, in fact, filled with eels or toxic chemicals or sewage or the remnants of other people’s barf. All because of the stupid bounceback.
Rocks Fall Everyone Dies Page 12
