Amelia bursts out laughing. "I guess this is far enough. Make sure you're uphill. I'm not responsible for which way my piss flows." She unzips and in seconds the quiet is replaced with the sound of her peeing.
Haley and I scramble further down the path, clinging to each other. I sure as hell am not getting pissed on. I stop next to a hollowed out tree while Haley inches further down the path. A car engine revs in the distance, and headlights shine through the trees.
The ridiculously straight trees.
I never noticed how evenly spaced they are.
The headlights get brighter and my fingers twitch.
No. I close my eyes but it’s too late.
"Haley. Amelia. Hurry up."
"I'm almost done." Plants rustle as Haley tries to keep her balance. Moments later I hear her zipper, then she's standing next to me, once again clinging to my arm.
But the tingling has already started.
The car drives alongside the tree line, lighting us up as if we had a spotlight on us. I know I can't flicker this way, but I can't stop the heaviness that crashes onto me. I fight to stay on my feet.
Haley stumbles beneath my sudden weight. "Biz, what are you doing?"
"What's going on?" Amelia's at my side.
"She just collapsed."
"Biz, how much did you drink?"
I can't answer them. I can't move. They're staring at me like I've grown a third head and I wish I could explain that I'll be weightless in a second and then we can walk back to our friends like nothing happened. But right now I can't make my body respond.
And like that the heaviness lifts and I'm back on my feet. "Sorry. That beer really hit me." I slip an arm through each of theirs and take a step towards the parking lot.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Haley asks. "You practically passed out."
Amelia squeezes my arm. "She's fine. Nothing another beer won't fix, right Biz?" She knows I don't drink much and while I'm grateful she doesn't say anything more in front of Haley, I know she's going to want an explanation.
I force a laugh. "Exactly."
We burst out of the woods, all laughter and squeals. Haley doesn't realize we're faking, which means most of the guys won't either. Cameron will know something's wrong the second I sit down. That's just how he is.
The three of us split off towards our guys. I squat near Cameron. "I'm ready to go."
"What the hell took you so long?" Kirk asks.
"Yeah," Joey laughs. "We were about to send out a search party. We thought maybe you'd gotten kidnapped."
While everyone laughs, Cameron stiffens next to me.
Yes, it's definitely time to go.
"Joey!" Amelia yells as Jason punches him in the arm.
"What?"
"Cam," Haley whispers loud enough that we all hear.
Cameron's breathing's grown shallow. He's working his jaw, clenching and unclenching like he's ready to tear Joey a new one.
Joey's mouth drops open, late to the clue bus once again. "Dude, sorry. I wasn't thinking about—"
"Just drop it."
"Shit, man."
The uncomfortable silence amplifies every sound from the forest. Crickets chirping, weird hoots, and a freakishly loud branch snapping.
Suddenly Haley laughs much louder than necessary. "You guys, Biz totally passed out when Amelia was peeing!"
Cameron's head whips towards me, along with everyone else's. "You did?"
"Just for a second. It's no big deal." I search out his eyes in the darkness. The guys snicker. "Can we please just go?"
"Yeah." He pulls me to my feet. "You guys can hang on to the blanket, just make sure I get it back at school."
Trace holds out his hand and they do one of those guy handshakes that only makes sense to them. "Sure thing. Thanks."
Amelia looks up at me, uncertainty and excitement battling on her face. "Call me later."
"I will." My hand lifts in a half-hearted wave. "Bye guys. See you Monday."
"Good luck, Cam," Travis calls out. "Looks like you're gonna need it."
Chapter 12
"What an ass." I stomp towards Cameron's car, not caring if Travis can hear me. "He always has to say something to ruin my night."
Cameron unlocks the car but doesn't open the door. Instead he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close against his chest. "I wouldn't say it's ruined."
My body responds and I relax into him. "Okay, maybe ruined is too strong."
"In fact, except for a couple dumbass comments, I think this has been a pretty good night."
Our kiss at the zoo plays through my mind. "You have a point." I stand on my tiptoes and brush my lips against his throat.
He sighs softly, his breath warm on my face. "See, Travis doesn't know what he's talking about. I'm already lucky."
My shoulders tense and I pull back. "Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"
He jerks his head, confused for a moment before he realizes what I mean. "No! God, Biz, I didn't mean that." His hands slide into my hair and he cradles my head. He brushes the tip of his nose against mine. "I meant I'm already lucky because you're here with me."
If I wasn't close to melting earlier, I am now. "Oh."
Our lips meet and I pull him closer. He traces my jaw with his thumb, sliding it lower down my throat, making my pulse stutter. The kiss deepens. The taste of him fills my head and I grip the back of his shirt like it's the only thing keeping us connected.
He breaks off the kiss but his lips don't stop. His mouth travels to where his thumb had been and settles at the curve of my collarbone. The heat from his tongue sends chills down my back and a tingling sensation races through me, but without the fear I have when flickering. There's nothing scary about this.
He lifts his head and nuzzles my other ear. "We should get out of here."
I can't get in the car fast enough.
Cam drives slowly, taking extra care when turning onto the main road. He only had one beer, but we are a few years shy of legal drinking age.
Cameron's hand settles on my knee. "Where to?"
"I should probably go home." I'd love to spend the rest of the night with him, but I'm worried about Dad. My being there doesn't really do anything for him, but Mom could use the moral support. Or the help in case he has another seizure.
He moves his hand so he's gripping the inside of my knee and winks. "You sure?"
My heart races. I smile. "No. But I am worried about my dad."
His smile falls. "Right."
We ride through town in silence. I keep replaying the kiss at the zoo—the feel of Cameron's lips on mine, how safe I felt in his arms—and can't believe he's sitting right next to me. My gaze drops to his hand still caressing my leg. This all feels like a dream.
"So what happened in the woods?"
Cameron's voice startles me out of my daydream. "Oh, you know Haley. She's drunk and made a big deal that I tripped."
"It didn't sound like you tripped."
"Well I did have a couple beers."
He nods, lips tight.
"What?"
"You don't want to hear it."
"Just say it."
He rubs his hand over my thigh. "I'm worried about you."
"Oh." It's not that I don't want to hear that—of course I like that he's concerned about me—but I don't like him worrying. "What can I say to change that?"
His voice is quiet. "I don't know."
He doesn't speak again until he parks around the corner from my house. He kills the engine and shifts so he's facing me, then lifts his hand to my face. "Whatever's going on," he looks down, then back into my eyes, "you know you can trust me."
"I do trust you."
His fingers weave through my hair, settling just behind my ear. "Then tell me what's going on with you." He closes his eyes. "You already know all my secrets."
I touch my fingertips to his eyelids and he turns his face to kiss my palm. An unfamiliar emotion fills my heart, my throat, and finds its way to my head,
where it leaks out of one eye. I quickly brush away the tear before he notices.
His eyelids flutter open. His dark eyes gaze into mine and whatever I planned to say is lost. I lean closer and his lips meet mine. We cling to each other with a ferocity I've never felt before. As the kiss grows more urgent, all sense of self-control slips away and I melt into his arms.
My phone beeps, breaking the mood. "Crap," I mumble into Cameron's mouth. "I've got ten minutes to get home." Amelia came up with the idea after the third time I got grounded for missing curfew.
He starts the engine and putters around the corner, stopping in front of my house. The only light on my street comes from the streetlight on the corner and the porch light over my front door. Old Berta grinds to a halt in front of my house.
The dashboard clock reads 11:52. "Just in time."
"So, uh…" he clears his throat. "I had a really good time tonight. It's different with you since we already know each other, you know? It's kinda nice not worrying so much."
"What do you mean so much?" Relax. I take a deep breath. "I mean, what are you worried about?"
He shrugs. "Just what I said before. About ruining our friendship."
"Cameron, I can't tell you when I've ever felt like this about anyone. Part of me still can't believe this is happening, but I'm really happy it is. It feels right, you know?"
He rests his hand on my knee. "I do."
My hand moves to the door handle, but Cameron reaches over me and opens it for me. "Let me get that for—"
I lay a kiss on him before he can finish his sentence. Technically, I'm home.
His fingers twine through my hair, pulling me close, while his other hand fumbles with my seatbelt. The latch clicks and I try to climb over the seat but my leg catches on the shifter. He slides a hand beneath me and lifts me onto his lap so my feet are on the passenger seat, but rather than kissing me, he tucks my head against his chest and holds me.
I want to stay here forever. I can deal with being grounded. Just let this moment last a little longer.
After a few minutes he lifts my chin with his finger so he's looking in my eyes. He brushes a soft kiss on my lips. "I don't want you to get in trouble."
I sigh. "Thank you for tonight. I had a really good time, too." So good, in fact, that I've already made up my mind to relive tonight. I kiss him one last time then climb back to my seat and open the door. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
I'll also see you yesterday, but I won't be changing a thing.
Chapter 13
I wake up before dawn to study for my trig test. The last time I flickered on back-to-back days I ended up in the hospital, and since I'm determined to repeat last night, I better ace this test on my own.
But really? Trig? Who decided this was important information for adulthood? After half an hour I toss the book to the floor and grab my phone. I start to text Amelia, then remember it's still dark out. She'd kick my ass if I woke her up, especially after a night of drinking.
Maybe food will help.
I trudge downstairs and find Dad sitting at the kitchen table.
"You got in late." He doesn't exactly frown, but the wrinkles around his eyes are deeper than normal. He studies me over the rim of his coffee cup as he takes a sip.
"How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?"
"Don't change the subject." He sets down his cup. "I know you don't like to hear it, but I worry about you Biz." He shakes his head as I open my mouth to protest. "With your headaches… you need to take better care of yourself. Staying up late and drinking—"
How does he know I was drinking?
"—are only going to make your symptoms worse."
"I wasn't—"
He cuts me off with a look. "You forget who you're talking to. I wish you'd trust me. Drinking is only going to make it worse." The clock ticking over the stove suddenly sounds like a hammer drilling into my skull. Dad's normally watery eyes are clear, focused, and boring into mine. Like he's trying to tell me something without actually telling me.
I blink and my gaze drops to the floor.
"I don't mean to pry, I'm just—"
I look up. "Worried about me. I know. Can't we talk about something else?"
He smiles. "How's Robbie?"
Ugh, wrong topic. "We broke up last week."
His face falls. "You seem to be taking it okay…"
"Yeah, well…" I bite my lip. Telling him about Cameron will make it more real than it already is. It's not like he can take away what's happened, but telling your parents makes it… official.
He watches me, his lips twitching. There's that damn patience again.
But this time I'm not biting. It's too soon.
"How's school?"
I shrug, and he lets out an exasperated sigh.
"Biz, I'm trying here. I want to know what's going on in your life. I feel like…" he shakes his head. "I don't know. I guess sometimes I'm afraid that if I don't make the effort now it'll be too late and then I'll have missed my chance."
My heart clenches. Why do I fight his efforts to be a good dad? I have friends who'd kill for this kind of attention from their parents. I lean forward and place my hand on his. "Dad, you haven't missed anything. I just don't have anything interesting going on in my life." Besides flickering and making out with Cameron and strange men knowing too much about me.
His eyes narrow slightly and I shrink away. "Do you ever…" he stops. His head dips and he rubs the stubble on his chin with his thumb and forefinger.
That's okay. I can play the patience game, too.
He tries again. "With your headaches, how do you feel? I mean, I understand that there's pain and light makes it worse, but does anything else happen?" He's looking at his hands so doesn't see the look of pure panic that's frozen on my face.
I clear my throat. "Like what?"
"I don't know." He flexes his fingers. I can't tear my eyes away from them. "Any other side effects?" He continues stretching, pushing his arms above his head and rolling his shoulders.
Exactly like I do when I'm fighting the weight that crushes me just before I flicker.
"You mean like an aura?" I'd read that some people who get migraines have visual disturbances that distort how they see things.
"That's one thing." He straightens his fingers, then lays his palms flat on the table. It's like he wants to tell me something, but either can't or doesn't know how.
Either way, he's got me completely freaked out.
He takes a quick breath. "Do you ever have…" his fingers twitch, "a weird feeling in your hands or feet?"
I look up from his fingers to find him looking me in the eye, gauging my reaction. I snap my mouth closed.
He can't know.
He continues. "Because if you do, you can tell me." The corners of his eyes sag, followed by a frown that makes him look sad, desperate.
For a second I consider telling him everything. The lights, the tingling, the flickering. I long to have someone on my side, someone I can share this… condition… with, to not have to endure this by myself. But despite what he says, I don't know how he could understand.
My gaze flits all over the room. He'll break my resolve if I let him stare at me much longer. As much as I hate to, I push back my chair and stand up. "Thanks Dad. But really, there's nothing to tell." I turn away, but not before his face falls. I straighten my shoulders and try to push the guilt away, but it clings to my chest, crushing my lungs.
Once I'm out of view, I bend at the waist and force a breath. I need to focus right now.
I return to my room and flip open my trig book. Surely if I stare at it long enough the funny little words will start to make sense. They have to because—I check the clock on my nightstand—I'm leaving in an hour to flicker.
Fifty-eight minutes later I shrug into my jacket and leap down the stairs two at a time, nearly colliding with Mom. "Whoa, sorry. I'm just going for a drive." I peek in the living room. "Where's Dad? He was up earlier."
&nb
sp; She touches the side of her face, much the same way I do when I have a migraine. I wonder if I picked that up from her, or if she even realizes she does it. "He went back to bed. Said he wasn't feeling well."
My shoulders slump. The ache in my chest hadn't exactly left, but now it's back in full force. "Is it serious? Does he need to go back to the hospital?" I know that's not it but I can't not ask.
"It's probably just a reaction to all the drugs they gave him. He should be back to normal by tomorrow."
Normal for Dad isn't what I'd wish on anyone, but it's the best we can hope for.
"Please be home in time for dinner."
"I will." I brush my cheek against hers and step into the blinding sunlight.
*****
I'm gonna miss the zoo.
Cam had picked me up at four and I wanted to repeat every second of our date, but it's already noon. When I flicker I go back eighteen hours. I've stopped trying to figure out the significance of that number—the best I can come up with is it has something to do with my age. I'm seventeen years and eight months, which is pretty damn close to eighteen. If the time frame shifts it's too subtle for me to tell.
At least this way I'll get to eat again. I'm starving.
The car practically drives itself, turning at the end of my street and following the curve of the river. A niggle of worry works its way into my belly, but I push it aside. Yes, it's noon. Yes, the sun is practically at its highest point in the sky. But that's why the Strand is the Strand.
The trees soar high over the road, arching ever so slightly at the top. Something to do with the path of the sun and them angling to absorb the most nutrients.
Yeah, I actually paid attention in biology.
The arch is important because it means the light still passes through the trees even though it normally wouldn't in a regular row of trees. I have to drive on the east side of the road for it to work, but fortunately that's the direction I'm already heading. Yes, I liked geology, too. Anything having to do with people and our physical surroundings. Math and English, not so much.
I round the next bend in the road and the Strand winks at me. A breeze stirs the leaves near the highest point, but that won't affect me. I'm more concerned with what's holding them up.
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