Casting Shadows (The Ash Grove Chronicles)

by Amanda DeWees

  His snarkiness was starting to get under her skin. “Don’t try to put this all on me,” she snapped. “You could have said no.”

  “Yeah? I’m not sure what fairy tale you’re living in, but when you’re a seventeen-year-old guy and a hot chick starts taking off her clothes and playing tonsil hockey with you, no is not a word that leaps to mind.” His adam’s apple jerked in his throat. “Besides,” he said more quietly, “I thought we were on the same page.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “So did I.”

  There didn’t seem to be anything else to say. William’s jaw was set, and he was glaring at her with a hostility she had never seen in him before. All of the guys in the band were frankly staring at them, making no attempt to hide their interest. She felt angry, and injured, and strangely bereft, as if something dear to her was slipping out of her reach.

  Subdued, she said at last, “I just want things to go back to the way they were.”

  He stared at her a moment longer. “I don’t think they can,” he said, and walked away.

  Before she could think of anything more to say, he had joined his waiting bandmates. He picked up his electric guitar and slung the strap over his head. “William, wait,” she said.

  “We’re done here,” he said, not even looking in her direction as he plugged in the guitar. “Guys, let’s get to it. I was thinking about a new arrangement of—”

  “We’re not done,” she said loudly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  That he simply ignored. Eric raised an incredulous eyebrow and muttered something to Blake, who tried to hide a smile.

  “Say, Jeremiah,” said Eric. “I was thinking we should change the band’s name to something more, you know, relatable. How about Maddie’s Man-Meat?”

  Jeremiah glanced at Maddie and said nothing. But William snickered, and Eric, encouraged, said, “Better yet: Men Maddie’s Mounted?”

  “No, I’ve got it,” said William. “How’s this: Survivors of Maddie.”

  Even Blake laughed that time.

  “Hey, Maddie, we’re looking for a new drummer,” Eric added. “Maybe you can recommend someone you’ve humped and dumped.”

  “Might better narrow it down some,” said William.

  “Dude, hardcore!” Eric gave him a high five.

  Feeling sick, Maddie turned and walked out the door. She tried not to look like she was hurrying, but the laughter of the Survivors of Maddie seemed to follow her all the way out of the building.

  Joy was waiting on the front porch when Maddie arrived at the Sumners’ house. “I’m glad you called,” she said. “I was about to go for a walk, and I would have missed you. What’s the matter?”

  After her disastrous encounter with William, Maddie had gone in search of Tasha and asked her to drop her at the Sumners’. Tasha was perplexed and clearly a little hurt that Maddie wasn’t ready to confide in her, but she did as she was asked. “At least tell me who did you wrong, so I can hate him for your sake,” she said. Maddie had just smiled weakly. Tasha would never believe the truth.

  Now, as she climbed the steps and accepted Joy’s hug, Maddie had second thoughts about confiding in her too. Lit up by pregnancy hormones, Joy looked like she’d never had a sad day in her life. You’d never guess from her face that she was pregnant by a guy that Maddie privately thought was as high-maintenance as any she herself had dated, suspended from school, with no job. Maybe she should have talked to Tasha instead.

  “Come in,” Joy urged her, sensing hesitation. “There’s Rocky Road and Moose Tracks both. I’ve got whipped cream too. And Diet Coke to cancel out the calories.”

  Maddie surrendered. “You’re going to make a great mom,” she said, and followed her obediently into the house.

  Half a pint later, Maddie felt strong enough to talk. She pushed her bowl away, and Joy put down her spoon and looked at her expectantly.

  “I screwed up,” said Maddie. “I screwed up bad. I slept with William.”

  Joy took this in with a surprising degree of calm. “Why?” she asked.

  She gave a gusty sigh. “I was feeling lonely and depressed. You were gone, Derek and I had broken up, and I was hormonal. And he was there, and we kind of started kissing, and, well, things just went on from there.”

  “Really?” Joy sounded skeptical. “That’s not what I would have expected from William.”

  “Okay, I kind of took the lead.” She saw Joy translating that, and felt ashamed for the first time. “I regretted it as soon as I was thinking straight again. I think it’s easier sleeping with someone you don’t know well. With William, we’ve been such good friends for so long, it was just weird.”

  “Weird?” Joy’s eyebrows rose.

  “Not at the time. At the time it was, well, nice. Really nice. But afterward… I just felt exposed, you know? Really self-conscious. So I kind of rushed off.”

  “How did William react?”

  Maddie winced. “I think he thought it made me his girlfriend. The next morning he was like this big puppy, he was so happy, and I totally shut him down.” She would never forget the look on William’s face, and the guilty knowledge that she was the one who had put it there. “I just never dreamed he’d assume that.”

  “So you had made it clear that this was just a…” Joy seemed to have a hard time finding a nice way to put it, and that made Maddie feel even worse.

  “A slam-and-scram?” she said bitterly. “No, I guess I didn’t. I just didn’t think he’d—well, I didn’t think, period.” After a moment she added, “And as if things weren’t craptastic enough already, when I tried to apologize, we got in a fight.”

  “With William? I didn’t know he ever fought.”

  “First time for everything, I guess.” Her laugh was hollow. “And, uh, that’s another thing. Turns out it was his first time.”

  Joy looked at her with a kind of awe. “Good lord, Maddie. This is like the Hindenburg of hookups. You honestly didn’t know?”

  “Of course I didn’t! If I had, I wouldn’t have been so—I would have been more—oh god, Joy, I’m a horrible, rotten person.” She buried her head in her hands.

  “You’re not a horrible person.” Joy patted her head, as if she were comforting a Labrador, Maddie thought. “But you need to talk to him, as soon as you can, and apologize.”

  That stung a little. “I tried already. He didn’t want to hear it. What else can I do?”

  Joy gave her a severe look. “Maddie, this is William we’re talking about. He’s a great guy, and he deserves better from you. Think about it.”

  She thought about it. About sweet familiar William, gazing at her with a dazed expression as she took off her clothes. He had looked like a cartoon character who’d been hit on the head with an anvil; she’d almost expected to see little birds circling his head.

  She knew he found her attractive; she’d caught him staring at her from time to time. He tried to be discreet about it, but she didn’t mind; in fact, every now and then, if she needed an ego boost, she’d stretch or move in a way that she knew showed off her figure, and enjoy seeing him blush. The tops of his ears always went red first. It was cute.

  She’d never felt guilty about it before, but now she did. It occurred to her that sleeping with him was like the most drastic version imaginable of trying to make him blush. She had needed to feel irresistible, so she’d made it impossible for him to resist her. Poor guy never had a chance.

  “I feel really cheap now,” she said. “I hope you’re happy.”

  “I don’t want you to feel cheap! I just want you to be able to see it from William’s side.”

  “Yeah, I get it.”

  “Are you sure? What was your first time like?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” She had stuffed the memory into a dark corner of her mind and tried not to let it out. A common enough story: she’d had a crush on the guy, he had seemed to like her, but once he’d put his clothes back on he’d never looked her way again. “Let’s just say that not ev
eryone has a gorgeous perfect first time like you,” she said, knowing she sounded sullen. Joy had skimped on the details, but she had implied enough about her blissful first night with Tanner to make Maddie envious.

  Joy waved that aside. She was still shy about discussing her own sex life. “So maybe William’s feeling like that now. You’ve got to tell him you’re sorry and that you care about him. You do, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do,” she said automatically. It was unthinkable for William not to be part of her life. He brought her back from her bitchiest impulses and helped her see things in a calmer light. He believed she was a good person, even when she doubted it herself. The thought that she had hurt him, possibly beyond healing, suddenly seemed more painful than she could bear.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I’ve got to apologize again, and do it right.”

  Joy hugged her. “It’ll be okay, hon,” she said, but she didn’t sound very sure of it. “It may take a while for him to cool off enough to listen to you, but things will work out eventually.”

  “God, I hope so.” Maddie rubbed her eyes. She had slept poorly the last few nights, thrashing restlessly in sheets that still held William’s clean soap scent. “At least you’ve got a happy sex life,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “Living with Mr. Dreamboat must be quite the boinkfest.”

  Joy sidestepped, of course. “Sharing the house with my dad kind of puts a crimp in things.”

  “Yeah, but he’s not always here, is he?”

  “He’s giving Tan and me the place to ourselves one night a week, starting Friday. But listen, are you going to be okay?”

  Maddie gave a gusty sigh. “Have I ever been?” Then a hopeful thought came to her. “Maybe if Tanner could talk to William first, you know, man to man—” At the sight of Joy’s expression she wilted. “I know. It’s something I have to do myself.”

  “You owe him that,” said Joy. And although it crossed Maddie’s mind that a pregnant unmarried teenager who’d been kicked out of school had no right to be so holier-than-thou, she managed to keep her mouth shut. Maybe today she could avoid losing both her best friends.

  Chapter 8

  Rehearsal had never really gelled the day that Maddie had come by. After she left, Eric had continued to make nasty cracks about her, and although at first William found this soothing to his injured pride, pretty soon it began to feel slimy. Blake finally complained that they were starting to sound more like The Real Housewives of Atlanta than a band. After that they’d gotten back on track.

  He was glad now that he hadn’t confided to anyone about sleeping with Maddie. If he’d had to go back and tell anyone that no, they weren’t in fact a couple, he’d just been a kind of human Snuggie for her, he didn’t think he could have done it.

  He had already stopped going to the coffee bar during break; the smaller snack bar was just as good a place to hang out between classes, and he knew he’d never run into her there. He was there one morning drinking a Coke (which he preferred to coffee anyway) and looking over his theory homework for the last time before turning it in, when he felt someone approach his table. A female someone.

  He looked up warily, and was amazed to see Sheila Hardesty.

  Sheila was, hands down, the meanest girl at Ash Grove High. She seemed to cherish a special hatred for Joy, and William remembered how upset Joy had been after some of her encounters with Sheila. He stared at her with a wariness bordering on hostility. “Can I help you?”

  She smiled nervously. “I sure hope so.” She wore her long red hair in a braid today, and she fiddled with the end as if she didn’t know what to do with her hands. “Can I sit down?”

  William jerked his head toward the seat opposite him. This was unprecedented. He wondered what her angle was. Because he knew she had to have one.

  She kept her eyes on the tabletop and traced circles on it with one forefinger. “The thing is,” she said, “I need a certain piece of music reproduced, and everyone says you’re like this music savant.” She risked a glance at him from under her lashes. Her eyes were china blue and, he had to admit, very pretty. Her eyebrows were darker than her hair and delicately arched, giving her the look of an old-time Hollywood actress from a black-and-white movie.

  But that was all beside the point. “So?” he said, not even trying to be polite. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

  She bit her lip. “I realize it’s a lot to ask, especially because I’ve been such a bitch to you and your friends.” She hesitated, then plunged on as if afraid she would change her mind: “I know you have no reason to help me, but I’d really appreciate it if you would.”

  “I’m listening,” he said, feeling like a private eye in a film noir, sizing up a fetching dame and trying to figure out if he could trust her or not. Sheila wasn’t dressed like a film noir femme fatale, but she did have a great pair of getaway sticks, he noticed. The leggings she wore showed off legs that were long and slender.

  “I sprained a ligament in my left knee about a year ago,” she said. “It wasn’t too severe, but I keep spraining it over again. If it keeps up like this I may need surgery, and it may mean I can’t continue with ballet.”

  He was astonished at how matter-of-fact she sounded. “But you’ve probably been in ballet training since you were a kid.”

  “Since I was, like, four.”

  “And you may have to give it up? When you were going to make it your career? That sucks.”

  “Yeah, it does suck.” She folded her hands on the table and gazed at him squarely. “So I’ve been looking into other forms of dance that won’t put the same kind of stress on my knee. I’m doing pretty well in flamenco, so I’m preparing a new senior project in that instead of ballet.”

  That had to have been another blow. To change specializations in her senior year, and prepare her senior project in a new form of dance, must be incredibly stressful. “And it’s music for your project that you need my help with?”

  “That’s it exactly.” She felt in her dance bag and produced a CD-R with “La Gitanita” written on it in marker. “This is the piece I want to use, but it’s ripped from a really bad source; it’s all muddy sounding, and the tempo keeps changing.”

  “Like there was something wrong with the playback.” She had piqued his curiosity. “This is the only recording you’ve been able to find?”

  “Yeah. It’s a wonderful piece, and I’ve already got some great ideas for choreography, but I won’t be able to use it unless…”

  “Unless someone transcribes it from the recording for another musician to play.” He was intrigued in spite of himself; it could be an interesting challenge. “When do you need it by?”

  Her eyes grew huge and hopeful. “You’d really do this for me?”

  “If circumstances align, yeah.”

  “Circumstances,” she repeated, diminished. “Like what exactly? I can pay you if you need, you know, compensation.”

  He was rather enjoying the novel sensation of having the upper hand over Sheila Hardesty. “There’s that,” he said, consideringly. “And if it starts cutting into my prep time for my own senior project, we may have to change the arrangement. But the main thing is you apologize to Joy and mean it. Unless she gives her okay, I’m not going to help you with a thing.”

  He could see her turn this over in her mind. “Is she, like, your girlfriend now?” she finally asked.

  “No, my best friend.” Until recently, she and Maddie had shared that honor. Now Joy was sole holder of the title. “She’s a nice kid, and she doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you’ve treated her. And she sure didn’t deserve to get suspended because of you.”

  “Look, I didn’t mean for that to happen. And I spent that whole weekend doing detention for it.”

  He stood up and swung his bookbag onto his shoulder. “That’s my condition. Prepare to grovel, or else forget the whole thing.”

  “Okay,” she said, sounding nervous as she got to her feet. “I’ll apologize. Is s
he here today, do you know?”

  “What is it, Friday? She said she’d be coming to campus tomorrow to have lunch with Tasha and… the rest of the gang. We’re meeting up in the dining hall at noon. That would be a perfect place for you to make up with her.” He grinned, a little maliciously. “Everyone will be gathered in one place.”

  He thought she looked a little stunned at that. Apologies were hard enough even when they weren’t in front of an audience.

  How hard must it have been for Maddie, then, to apologize to him in front of the guys. But he shook the thought off. He had no pity for Maddie.

  “Can I ask another favor?” asked Sheila in a small voice, bringing his mind back from where it had wandered.

  “What?”

  “Could you maybe come with me when I talk to Joy? It’s just that you’ve been so nice, and I’m kind of nervous about it.”

  Surprised and a little flattered, he agreed. The smile that lit her face then was almost dazzling. It warmed her cheeks and brought light into the pale blue eyes.

  “Thanks, William,” she said. “You’re really sweet, you know that?”

  “Yeah, no kidding,” he said, reverting to the private eye style. “But don’t let the word get out.”

  Sheila’s apology to Joy at lunch the next day was spectacularly awkward. “I know I said a lot of horrible things to you—” she began.

  “You said you wanted to push my ugly face in,” said Joy.

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “And you said I wasn’t even in the same species as my fiancé, and that he only slept with me out of pity.”

  Two patches of red were burning in her pale face now. “I know, and I’m really, truly sorry. It was hateful of me. If it makes any difference, I was really freaking out because of my injury and how worried I was that I’d have to stop dancing. I took it out on you, which wasn’t fair, but it wasn’t, like, personal.”

  William wondered if Joy was buying this. He wasn’t sure he bought it himself. But Sheila did seem genuinely penitent. He also wondered: what would Tanner think if he were here? He might be less forgiving about slights to his bride-to-be than Joy herself.