Eventually we slow. The return to earth is no less exhilarating because he's wrapped an arm across my chest and is kissing the back of my neck. The swing stops. Before I can stand he turns me around, then pulls me to him and his mouth covers mine. He's still sitting on the swing so I'm taller than him, and the change in perspective gives me a heady rush. I dig my fingers into his hair as our tongues meet. His arms tighten around me and we press closer together.
This time I break away first and run my lips over his eyes, down the arch of his cheekbone until I find the hollow in his throat. I taste his skin and he moans softly into my hair.
"Let's get off this thing." His voice is hoarse, his lips full from our kiss. A sheen in his eyes catches the fading sun and my heart leaps into my throat.
I nod.
Taking my hand, he guides me to the plastic jungle gym in the middle of the playground. There are conveniently no lights in this part of field and shadows consume the inside of the structure. We walk around to the other side.
He tilts his head back, looking up the slide. "How the hell are we supposed to get up there?"
Two slides—one twisty, one straight—descend from either side, a fireman's pole drops from the center, and a web of ropes stretches over the broadest side.
I point at the rope. "I think we have to climb that." I grab my hands behind my back and make a big show of stretching. I touch the closest rung. It's gritty from the countless people before us. My foot sneaks onto the lowest rung and I quickly pull myself up. "I'll race you."
"Hey!"
I'm halfway up before he catches me. His hand covers mine, preventing me from climbing higher until he passes me. "Cheater!"
He laughs down at me from the landing. His head sticks out over the edge and he dangles his arms, there for me if I need it.
I don't, but I let him help me over the edge.
"What do I get for winning?"
"My eternal adoration."
He rolls to his back and I ease on top of him. He stares into my eyes and the lump in my throat returns. I still can't wrap my head around the fact that it's Cam lying here beneath me, holding me, making me feel more beautiful than I can ever remember feeling.
I touch the side of his face and marvel at how real he is. The other boys I've dated were nice to me and all, but they always seemed… detached. Maybe it was my fault. Robbie said I wouldn't let him get close to me, so maybe they were just protecting themselves. But Cam… he already knows everything there is to know about me.
More than anyone ever has.
He rolls so we’re lying on our sides and strokes my temple. "What are you thinking?"
My fingers brush his chest. Suddenly I'm nervous to look at him, but I force myself to meet his eyes. His warm, dark eyes that make me want to completely lose control in the middle of the playground. "I was just thinking how nice it is that you already know me. That we know each other." His fingers trail over my neck to my shoulder and down my arm. "We don't have to go through all that bullshit of getting to know each other."
"What if there are things I still want to know about you?"
I slide my hand down his side until I find the edge of his shirt. My fingers slip inside, my cold skin making him gasp. "Sorry." I move my hand further up his shirt, relishing in the smoothness of his back, running the tips of my fingers over the bumps of his spine. "So what else do you want to know about me?"
His lips part and his head dips closer to mine. "I don't remember." He moves on top of me, erasing anything else I was going to say.
Chapter 32
As much as I want to stay here forever, I do eventually need to face my parents. My body tenses just thinking about it.
Cameron notices my shift in mood. "Do you need to go?"
"Yeah." I trace his cheekbone with my fingertip, savoring in his closeness. "I don't know if I can wait five days to see you."
"How do you know it'll be five days?"
"At the very least I'll be grounded through the weekend, and since I won't be at school until Monday…" I tick off my fingers. "Five days."
"That sucks."
"And showing up hours after dinner is not going to make things any easier."
He sighs. "Well let's go."
We disentangle ourselves and I nod at the slide. "After you."
He scootches to the edge of the platform and in an instant disappears from sight. "All clear."
I stick my feet over the edge and my stomach leaps to my throat. Two seconds later I'm slamming into Cameron and we're on the ground in a pile of giggles. I should be freaking out right now, but being around him makes everything else seem less important.
He drives to the park and pulls into the spot next to my car. Streetlights illuminate the deserted parking lot. "I don't think you're going to make it for dinner." He walks me to the driver's door and pulls me into an embrace. "Good luck. Let me know how it goes."
I give him one last kiss. "I will."
The short drive doesn't give me enough time to come up with a plausible story. I was suspended for cheating because I've been flickering. What kind of plausible excuse is there?
They're both at the kitchen table when I go inside. "Biz?" Mom calls.
"Sorry I'm late. Cameron and I were taking pictures at the park." I enter the kitchen and try to ignore the disappointed look on Mom's face and the disapproving one on Dad's.
"A little dark for pictures, isn't it?"
Dad's not cutting me any slack.
"We're studying the contrast between light and dark. You need shadows to capture that."
"Mm-hmm."
Do they know I was suspended? I expected a full-on assault the minute I walked in the door, but they just seem peeved that I'm late. A thought suddenly occurs to me, and I look Dad in the eye. "Where were you earlier? No one was here when I got home."
He looks at Mom. I follow his gaze.
"Your father had some tests done this afternoon and it went a little longer than we expected."
My heart leaps to attention. "Why didn't you tell me? I would've gone to the hospital. You should have called." My mouth snaps shut when I realize what I've said. I should've called, too. So this is how they feel. "I'm sorry."
Dad touches my hand. His eyes are glassy, more watery than normal. "They just switched my medication. Nothing for you to get worked up over."
I need to get this over with. "Speaking of getting worked up, I have bad news." I force the words past the lump in my throat. “I got suspended.”
"Suspended?" Mom shouts. "What on earth for?"
I don't want to say it. Can't they just leave it at that?
"Biz." Dad's voice is about ten thousand decibels louder than it was two seconds ago. "What the hell did you do to get suspended?"
I take a deep breath. "Stride Right accused me of cheating."
They both lean back in their chairs. Finally Dad speaks. "Did you?"
"Not exactly."
Mom expels a breath she's been holding. "What do you mean, not exactly? Either you cheated or you didn't."
I hold my hands out in front of me. "I don't know how else to explain it. Sometimes things just… click for me and I remember the answers. Other times, not so much."
Dad's head cocks to the side.
What did I say?
But Mom's not done. "How long are you suspended?"
I hang my head. "Three days."
"Three days!" She's like a parrot. "Is that why you were out so late tonight?"
This is when I hate that my parents are so involved in my life. They know in a matter of seconds that I stayed out late because I knew I'd be grounded. "Maybe."
Mom sighs again. "I don't know what to say. Go to your room so your father and I can talk about you."
"Can I at least eat?" They can't deny me sustenance!
"Take it with you."
I hurry away from the table before she changes her mind.
I text Cameron to let him know they're deciding my fate. "Doesn't look good."<
br />
Ten minutes later my fears are confirmed.
Grounded for two weeks.
Chapter 33
How bad is it to sneak out on the first day of being grounded?
Yeah, I figured as much. Instead I'll try plan number two: begging Dad to accompany me to the park with me so I can take more photos.
"It's for school. It's not like I'll be socializing with anyone. They're all in class."
"A picnic is the complete opposite of what we had in mind when we grounded you."
"Then we'll eat before we go. Whatever you want." He's caving, I can tell. Grounding is more Mom's thing.
"Fine, but only for a couple hours."
I leap at Dad and give him a hug. "Thank you!"
Following Dad into the park, I can't help but think of being here with Cameron yesterday, but when Dad lays out the blanket, I banish all thoughts of Cameron from my mind. My dad and my boyfriend need to stay in very separate mental compartments.
As we eat our sandwiches, I survey the park for differences from yesterday. The sun is almost directly above us, so while the shadows aren't as vast, they're more dense than their sprawling counterparts.
A shout from the playground makes us both turn. A little boy tumbles backwards down the slide. My reflex is to take a picture, but I've had enough of real life news.
"You did that once when you were little."
"I did?"
Dad wipes his mouth on his sleeve. "Scared the crap out of your mom, but I knew you were okay. Even lying there on the ground, you had this determined look in your eyes that said you weren't going to let some silly piece of playground equipment get the best of you."
"My eyes said that?"
"Something along those lines." He smiles. "You still have that look."
"Well, I'm not gonna let some silly slide get the best of me." Memories of making out with Cameron in the jungle gym flash through my mind. I can feel my cheeks getting warm. Maybe we should change the topic. "So I didn't get hurt?"
"Just a few bruises. But that's when your mom stopped taking you to the park. Said she couldn't handle watching you get hurt."
"So that's when you took over."
"Not that I particularly enjoy seeing you suffer, but I sometimes think I have more empathy than your mother."
Interesting he said empathy and not sympathy. We studied that in English last semester. Sympathy means you feel bad for someone. Empathy means you've been in a similar situation and understand from experience what the person is going through. I somehow doubt Dad fell backwards down a slide.
"Anyway, whatever the reason, I'm glad I've been able to spend so much time with you."
"You don't miss working?"
His smile fades. "Sure, but you can only have so many seizures at work before they gently suggest you might be better off at home. My condition may prevent me from working, but it also qualifies me for disability."
Another thing I've never noticed until now: Dad never says he has epilepsy. He says he's sick or has a condition or, my favorite, he says he gets the shakes and wiggles. I lean over and give him a hug. "I hate that you're sick, but I am glad you've always been there for me. Not many of my friends can say that."
"You believe that, right?"
"What?"
"That I'm here for you. No matter what." His eyes have regained their clarity and it's like he can see right into my soul.
I turn away before he finds out something even he can't help with.
*****
After lunch I leave Dad napping on the blanket and wander the park, my camera ready. It's a lot more crowded this time of day, mostly with moms armed with strollers, diaper bags, and tottering little kids, but the occasional gray-haired couple hobble by as well. A few people look my way when I snap their picture, but I smile and wave to convince them I'm not a child molester.
I stop in front of the bench I photographed last night. Sunlight beats on the smooth surface, leaving the scratches and divots no place to hide.
Click-click-click.
Shadows hide between the wooden slats and in the groove that's carved along the length of the bench's frame. I sit down and tilt my head back until I'm staring at the branches high above. Oh! I sit upright. I was going to take pictures of the tree line.
I lift the lens to my eye and study the branches that seem to fold inside themselves. Small gaps here and there seem wide enough to allow a person to pass through, but for the most part it's like a fortress wall.
Click-click-click.
It may turn out that none of these are usable, but it can't hurt. I slowly scan the edge, clicking as I go.
"There you are!"
My finger continues to depress the shutter, even as I turn at Dad's voice. "You scared me."
"Sorry. When I woke up I didn't see you." He holds up my cell. "You left this in your bag."
I touch my back pocket. I hadn't realized it wasn't there.
Dad nods at the camera. "You getting anything good?"
I rise. "I think so. It's hard to tell on the display." I fall in step with him as he heads back to the blanket. "You ready to go?"
"Yeah, I think I've had enough sunshine for one day."
Chapter 34
I haven't technically been banished to my bedroom, but I'm hiding there anyway. Dad may be laid back about the whole suspension thing, but Mom isn't so understanding. Better I play the role of good daughter and do the homework Amelia emailed to me.
Shortly after dinner I download the photos from the park. The ones from yesterday with people in them are pretty boring, but the time lapse of the bench turned out better than I expected. The camera didn't stay as still as it would have if I had a tripod—something else to ask for on my birthday—but the slight shift gives the montage a stop-action feel, something I'll definitely try to repeat again.
The photos jump from the edge of the park at dusk to bright sunlight. The difference is startling, even on the computer screen. The sun bleached the color from everything it touched, while the shadows seem over-saturated, luring me closer.
I flip ahead, curious to see the park's edge in the brighter light.
Leaves and branches twine around each other much like I remember, but a splash of color at the edge of the frame surprises me. I don't recall seeing anyone there. I click to the next picture and an out-of-focus little girl in a red sweater stands in my picture. How did I miss her?
Then I remember. Dad startled me and I took the last few pictures without looking. I click ahead and my stomach drops. There's a man standing behind the little girl.
Don't be stupid, I scold myself. It's probably her dad.
He’s wearing some kind of blue jacket and tan pants. The photo's too blurry to see his face, but the way he holds his shoulders—hunched forward like he bends over a lot—makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I can’t tell if it’s the same man from the games but something about the way he’s standing feels familiar.
Time for a break. I push away from my desk and head downstairs to get a drink of water. The evening news drifts into the kitchen. "…last seen wearing a red sweater. Police say—"
The glass slips from my hand, shattering at my feet.
"Biz? What happened?" Mom's at my side in a matter of seconds, picking the largest shards from the floor.
"The TV." My mouth is so dry I can barely get the words out. "Is another kid missing?"
Her eyes water as she looks up at me. "Today at the park."
My head jerks in the direction of the living room.
"Dad said you two were there today. Can you imagine if you'd been there when it happened? How horrible for—"
"I… I think I saw her."
Dad twists around on the couch. "You did?"
I point at the ceiling. "I have her picture."
Mom and Dad follow me up the stairs. We crowd around my computer and stare at the picture filling the screen.
Mom covers her mouth with her hand. "You're sure you took this today?"
<
br /> I look at Dad. "This was the last one I took before we left. I wasn't looking because you surprised me, so I didn't know what I'd taken until just now."
"We have to call the police," Mom says. "This could be the first picture they've had." She rushes from the room and her footsteps fade down the stairs.
My breath is coming too quickly. My heartbeat is all over the place. I might be able to help, but I'm also freaking out to once again be involved in an actual life or death situation.
Dad rests his hand on my shoulder. "You could help stop this kidnapper."
My insides turn to liquid. It's time to stop hiding behind my fear of being different. This is about more than just me. I could actually save this little girl and I need to start by telling Dad the truth. I force a deep breath, digging deep for the courage to tell what I've never told a soul. "I think I can help her."
He tilts his head and gives me a puzzled look. "That's what we're talking about."
"No, help her…" my voice is so low I can barely hear it. "Like stop her from getting kidnapped."
Dad straightens.
And I lose my nerve.
He moves to my bed and sits down. "Can I ask you a question?"
"I think you just did."
His eyebrows raise.
"Sorry."
He looks down at his hands hanging loosely between his knees. "What happens after your fingers and toes start to tingle?" My mouth drops as he meets my gaze.
"You know? How do you know?"
His fingers stretch, as if by reflex. "It used to happen to me."
We stare at each other for what seems like hours. A thousand questions tumble over themselves in my mind, all fighting to be the first to fly off my tongue.
"Used to? You mean you can't anymore?" It never occurred to me that this might someday go away.
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