“I think he means for us to climb up,” I said, acting before I was thinking. I grabbed the top of the chimney and hauled myself half onto it, only pausing when I realized that Mik’s hands were pretty firmly on my waist. “It’s okay. I’m not going to fall.”
I tried to wiggle free, but he held more tightly. I ran with it, ignoring an extra double thump in my pulse while I used his arms for balance. Crouching on the top of the chimney stack, I couldn’t help thinking, Jake was right here. And he probably stood up like it was nothing.
I closed my eyes briefly before standing tall. My breath vanished as I glanced around, because I swear I could see the night. Not just the darkness but the wind on every shadowy tree. I could see each light on in Athens below and the serpentine gleam of the Hocking River.
“Amazing,” I said to my brother, and I swore that he replied, “I know, right?”
It was nuts, and yet, I could sense Jake. He was here. Right on the edge of suicidal crazy, waiting for me. “Jake?” I murmured, closing my eyes and leaning forward.
“Why not?” he seemed to say back—his favorite phrase. The very words he had tattooed on his right arm the day of his eighteenth birthday. Four months before he died.
The old brick beneath my feet began to lose its mortar.
To tumble.
Why not?
Whirling black and a slam to my shoulder later, I opened my eyes and found Mik on top of me, pinning me to the roof. He gasped, and his hands were so twisted in my shirt that I could feel his knuckles against my collarbone.
Natalie’s words came back like a finger snap. Are you with Mik?
His mouth was open like he was going to say something. Or because he’d just said something.
“What?” I asked. My cheeks were hot, and I suddenly felt little beneath him—a schoolgirl with a lame crush on her big brother’s best friend. But that wasn’t even quite it. I pushed him off of me. “Thanks for the superhero save,” I mumbled.
Zach was picking his steps through the dark on the roof’s edge. “It’s unbelievable up here!” he yelled. “You can see all the lights of the city!”
“Shhh,” I said, laughing at the way he Gollumed and crept. “There’re security patrols we need to worry about.”
“What happened there?” Zach asked, pointing at the now-halved chimney. Bricks were still tottering and rolling off the roof.
“Just a dare,” I said, relishing the words. A dare from my brother. I glanced over my shoulder and found Mik coolly smoking a cigarette. He arched an eyebrow at me that was supposed to mean something, but I didn’t follow, and I wasn’t going to beat myself up to figure it out. To be quite honest, I was annoyed by the way he’d pulled me down. Maybe I was supposed to fall off that chimney. Fate has a dark sense of humor.
A few minutes later, Bishop climbed up to join us. “Natalie is in a mood,” he grumbled.
“What else is new?” Zach and I said at the same time.
He held out his fist to do one of those bumps that I always see guys doing, but when I leaned in to connect, he disappeared.
Right through the roof.
Natalie was screaming long before the dust settled and long afterward. Bishop and I looked through the hole to where Zach had landed on his back, laughing and moaning.
Natalie kicked him.
“Stop laughing,” she yelled, hysterical. “Zachary Frederick Ferris! This is it. IT. We’re done!”
Bishop started laughing at that, and I couldn’t stop myself from joining in. Honestly, it was the best breakup I’d ever seen…up until the point when the campus security patrol car pulled around out front.
“Oh shit. Get down!” Bishop whisper-yelled. “Natalie, turn your cell off. They’ll see it through the window.”
“I see you already!” the cop called up. A seriously strong flashlight beam reached all the way to our faces. “Come down slowly and carefully! The Athens PD is on their way to pick you up for breaking and entering.”
“Jaycee!” Natalie hissed through the hole in the roof. “You said that the campus cops handle this!”
“They do until they call the real cops,” I snapped. “Natalie, take Zach out back. We’ll come down through one of the windows on the far side and make a run for it through the woods.”
“You better be right about this, Jaycee. My parents will—”
“Just go!”
Mik was gone, and it took a few precious seconds to find his all-black clothes on the far roof. I slipped through a small window where two buildings were joined in an L. Natalie yelled all over again when Bishop and I came running through the hallway to meet them.
“This way,” I said.
“Mik?” Natalie asked.
“He went his own way.” As always, I refrained from adding.
I led them out through the backyard to a narrow break in the chain link. “We should split up,” I said. “Bishop, head for the woods. For the hiking trails.”
I had to peel the fence back with all my strength to get enough space for Bishop’s shoulders to squeeze through. He ran off toward the woods, and I turned to Zach. “Go to the cemetery. I’ll meet you there.” Zach wedged himself through, getting stuck. I pushed him with my foot and faced Natalie. “Follow Bishop. Stay out of sight until they leave.”
“Maybe I should turn myself in,” Natalie said in a trembling voice.
“What?” Zach and I cried out together. I shooed him away from the fence. “To the cemetery!” I snapped. “I’ll take care of her.”
I spun around, surprised to find Natalie crying. Hard.
“They’ll go easy on me if I cooperate,” she said.
“Natalie. They’ll make you tell them who you were with and get us all busted.”
“You think I’ll rat you guys out,” she said, her voice strangled. “Don’t you?”
My face was so close to hers that I knew my words would slap, but I didn’t care. Not now. Not after five years of radio silence. “I don’t think. I know.”
I tried to leave through the fence, but she took hold of my arm.
“Jayce, let me come with you.” Her hand gripped so hard that I felt the bite of her nails, and I had a flash of little kid Natalie. She was always smooth and in control until something snapped—and then she could barely breathe. “Please don’t leave me alone right now.”
“Don’t be a baby,” I said. “Lay low until they’re gone. You’ll be fine.” Something banged behind us, and I whipped around, but no one was there. “To the woods. Find Bishop.” I flung her hand off my arm and ducked through the fence.
The security cop’s flashlight was coming around the building, and I heard another patrol car pulling around front. I made myself visible to give the others a chance, running across the road before I leaped down the hill and into the endless rows of identical limestone graves. I found Zach’s blond head and flattened him to the grass just as a flashlight beam swept over us.
For a solid few minutes, we listened and waited. From some far-off place, I swear I could hear Natalie crying, but that couldn’t be true. She’d made it into the woods; I’d watched for that much. And why was she even crying? No, sobbing?
I looked at Zach. He was pressed into my personal space while my back was against a cold headstone. “Does she usually cry when she dumps you?”
“Huh?” Zach blinked. “Are you high? When did you get high without me?”
I shook him by the shirt. “Answer.”
“No, she’s usually pretty pleased with herself.”
“You have really bad breath.”
“You have really nice boobs,” he countered.
I pinched his shoulder so hard that I had to cover his ow with my hand. “What do you know about my boobs?”
“A whole lot when they’re pressed up against me.”
I pushed him away, bristling all o
ver as the two patrol cars drove toward the other side of The Ridges. “The cops’ll keep circling. We should get out of here.” Something rustled close by, and this time, Zach knocked into me, pulling me down.
“What was that?” he whispered.
I peered over the eerie white bricks, all numbered, all without names. No wonder the poor souls who died in The Ridges were never at rest. A bit of black turned around from the edge of the woods and looked at me with eyes shining like deep wells. Mik. He held his hand up in a half wave, and I knew that was the best I was going to get for a goodbye.
“See you next June, Mik,” I muttered, frustrated by the way he ghosted in and out of my life—and by the sudden daydream I was having about following him. About what might happen if I saw Mik more than once a year.
Instead, I hauled Zach to his feet by his shirt. “Let’s go. I’ll give you a ride home.”
Chapter 10
Zach
“What are you doing?” Jaycee asked.
“You got to hear this. It’ll rock your face off.” Zach plugged his phone into the auxiliary line of her car stereo. He was about two seconds from crying, and like hell was he going to let Jaycee see him cry. “I’ve only got twelve percent battery. Enough time to get ‘Vindicated.’” He cranked the volume way up.
An electric guitar slammed through the car, and Zach liked Jaycee more in that instant because she didn’t turn it down. The lyrics filled the space between them with bleeding angst, and Jaycee drove with a strange, paused expression, like she was taking in every single word.
Zach drummed on his legs and gave in to the chorus at the top of the lungs, his voice barely heard over the screeching volume. When it finished, he flipped on some Modest Mouse, that song about missing the boat, and turned the volume back to human levels.
“I had to vent a little,” he said. “Natalie gets right under my skin.”
“We have that in common,” she said. “Where do you live?”
“The Plains. Behind the elementary school.”
She turned toward the neighboring town, speeding into the turn so fast that the tires squealed. “Was that Dashboard Confessional?”
“My answer to that depends on if you’re going to tease me for listening to them.”
“I’ve never teased anyone in my life.”
“Well, then it is Dashboard. From the Spider-Man 2 soundtrack.”
“Ew.”
He looked at her full on. “You’re being for real, aren’t you? About not teasing people? You’re missing out on the fun.”
Jaycee didn’t bite. She took her hands off the wheel to tie up her hair, and the car almost went off the road. When Zach reached over to straighten them out, she hit him in the arm. “Don’t think about it. You’re drunk.”
“I was drunk. Like three hours ago.” Zach frowned. “Now I’m painfully sober.” He rubbed his face. “My back is killing me, although I have to admit, this was a pretty epic night. Up until that last part.”
“The cops?”
“The Natalie.”
Jaycee scowled as she drove. “She’ll take you back. She’s done it before. You two are rather infamous for breaking up and getting back together.”
“Oh, you know my work?”
She didn’t laugh, and holy hell, could the girl drive fast.
Zach held on to the handle above the window and pretended he was in one of the Fast and the Furious movies so that he didn’t barf. “Natalie and I have a harder time staying apart than we do being together. She’s dumped me thirty-something times in our four-year relationship. That’s like…every two months. Or something. I’m not good at math. Basically, every few weeks, I just wait for the boom.”
“Sounds like love,” Jaycee deadpanned.
“She can’t get enough of me. What can I say?”
Jaycee looked at him from the side. Twice. Then she went back to scowl-driving. “What do you know about her? What do you really know about her?”
“Enough. I know she’s scared of her own shadow and that she works hard to make sure that no one sees that side of her. I pay attention, and she does confide in me. Sometimes.”
Jaycee nodded. Whatever he’d said had pleased her in a weird, indefinable, Jaycee kind of way.
They entered The Plains, and Zach’s phone died completely, the music cutting off. He glanced at it. He really needed a new phone; the funky battery on this one would take hours to pick up a charge again. “Guess she won’t be able to text me later when she changes her mind,” he wondered aloud. “Maybe it’d be good if we had some time apart. These days, we’re either having sex or trying to tear each other down. I could use some middle ground, you know?”
Jaycee’s cheeks were cherry red, and Zach swore that he’d embarrassed her with the sex talk. He didn’t think anything could make Jaycee look like that. She turned down the street near the elementary school, and Zach directed her toward his driveway.
“Why are you confiding in me?” she asked abruptly.
“It’s just some girl talk.”
“That isn’t my forte.”
“Oh, but it’s mine,” Zach said with his most confident smile.
“I see that. It’s probably what’s encouraged Natalie to keep you as a pocket pet all these years.” Jaycee pulled to a stop, and he looped his hands behind his head instead of getting out.
“Natalie and I…we are what we are. She knows me.”
“What happens when she goes to New York?”
He glared forward. “She goes to New York.”
“You’re working hard to convince me that you and Natalie are pretty laid-back,” she pointed out. “It’s backfiring. You’re going to be messed up when she takes off.”
“You would know. You’re kind of the expert on life post–Natalie Cheng. Got any tips?”
Now Jaycee was glaring. “What happened between Natalie and me was different. Plus, I was her best friend for eight years. I’ve got double the time on you.” Jaycee began to act strange. Nervous. She ran a finger around and around the steering wheel. “Natalie didn’t look right at the end of the night. Did you notice anything?”
“Oh, she’ll be fine. She was probably just pissed because we all went up on the roof, and she didn’t have the guts. She really doesn’t like being left behind. Whatever the problem, she’ll probably just deal with it in an orderly fashion like usual.”
“I’m not so sure,” Jaycee said.
“Hey, want to come in? Hang out?” he asked, surprising even himself. She glanced at him like he’d asked her to get naked. “No funny business, I swear. I usually hang out with my little sister when Natalie goes postal, but she’s at a sleepover. I…I don’t know what to do when I’m by myself.”
“That’s the saddest of the very sad things you’ve said tonight.”
He unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car, his back tight from the fall through the roof and his chest now aching for reasons he’d rather not deal with.
“Hey.” Jaycee rolled down her window and called out to him. “When we were up in the stain room, thanks for not saying anything to Natalie about the footprint. If she knew why I go up there, she’d just call me morbid.”
“Aren’t you morbid though? That’s like your thing, right?”
“Good night, Zach.”
He couldn’t help himself. He leaned on the driver’s window, making Jaycee lean back. “So you and Mik, huh?” Zach made his pointer fingers kiss and completed the effect with smooching sounds.
“How old are you?” she said, but there was the tiniest hint of a smile. “Natalie grilled me on that too,” she admitted after a pause. “Why?”
“Because he likes you. It’s obvious.”
“How?”
Zach shrugged. “Dunno. Just is.”
“You guys are insane. He’s practically my brother,” she said
. Zach lifted an eyebrow at her, calling her bluff. “All right,” she relented. “Not a brother. More like a stranger. We spent a lot of time together as kids, but since Jake died, I’ve only hung out with him four times. Every year on Jake’s death anniversary, we meet up in The Ridges. It’s not romantic, believe me.”
“Do explain.” Zach sat down on the driveway. Jaycee opened the car door and swung her legs out. It was almost friendly. “Only four times?” he led. “You exaggerating?”
“Five if you count that first night, which I probably shouldn’t.” Jaycee’s face was misleading. It was normal. Casual even, and Zach walked right into the trap.
“Why shouldn’t you count that night?”
“We went to the hospital together. He put his trench coat over my head to help drown out my parents’ screams when they ID’d Jake’s body.”
“Jesus.” Zach rubbed his hands over his eyes. “You really do just talk about all that stuff like it’s no big deal, huh? That’s what weirds everyone out, you know.”
“You think I should change my grieving process so that I don’t weird everyone else out?” she asked.
“Well…of course not.”
“Good. That makes you smarter than Natalie.”
Zach tugged his shoes off and splayed his toes on the cement, accidentally thinking about Aquaman before he remembered what had led to this rather depressing turn in the conversation. Mik and Jaycee. Misfit love.
Zach stood up and dug his hands in his pockets. “There’s more to this story, Jaycee. I saw you guys stare at each other like star-crossed lovers in those basement tunnels. If I hadn’t said something, it would have gotten real awkward real fast.”
Jaycee’s face went cherry again, and she looked even more intriguing than usual. “Last year when I saw Mik, it was different.” She paused and shuffled her Converses on the pavement.
“Don’t get shy now.”
“After we met up in the asylum, we had fun scaring off some drunk frat boys who had broken in. They had Burger King bags with them, and it made the whole place smell like fries, and I got hungry. For some reason, Mik had all these apples in his backpack, so we ate them and walked around laughing about what had happened.”
You Were Here Page 5
