Instinct

by Mattie Dunman

  “Nicole, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.” I hesitate, taking in her bowed shoulders and the defeated expression on her tear-stained face. “You wouldn’t try to follow her, would you? Hurt yourself?”

  She glances up at me sharply, eyes wide with shock. “What? You mean…would I kill myself?” I nod awkwardly, uncomfortable asking such a personal question, but worry outweighs my sense of propriety.

  “Never,” she whispers furiously, her voice resonant with the truth. My skin doesn’t have the slightest tremor, and I believe her. “I’ve been really upset, and I’ll admit, I was pretty down when I came to school today because of that stupid Facebook page, but I wouldn’t do that. It would destroy my parents.”

  I nod sympathetically, relief easing like a warm blanket around my shoulders. There is not a trace of doubt in her, and I know she is not in danger of following her friend to the river.

  “Besides. I’m going to nail Phillip if it’s the last thing I do. I know he did this to her, and I’m going to prove it. That’s why everybody hates me, you know. After Miranda died I freaked out and accused Phillip in front of everybody at lunch. They had to drag me away from him kicking and screaming, and I missed a week of school while I ‘calmed down.’ When I came back, all these rumors had started about Miranda and me, and it just snowballed from there. No one talks to me now.” Her voice is tinged with despair and rejection and once again I feel anger boiling in me on her behalf.

  “They’ll let it go eventually, Nicole. Especially when you start carrying on with your life.” She just nods absently. I can tell she doesn’t believe me, and given my lack of experience with people my own age, I may be wrong.

  “I can’t believe I just told you all that,” she says wonderingly, looking at me with a quizzical expression. “I mean, you’re really nice, and I’m glad we’re going to be friends, but I still can’t believe I laid all that on you. I’m sorry.” She withdraws from me slightly, and I can see the fear in her eyes that she has gone too far. I ignore the twinge of uneasiness that slices through me as I realize what she has just said. Cole’s words slither through my mind, trailing uncertainty and guilt. Before I let myself consider the possibility that my ability has something to do with her candidness, I hasten to reassure her.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you told me. It seems like you needed to talk about it anyway.” She still seems uncertain, and I rack my brain for something to say. “You’re not the only one, you know, who tells me stuff. I had a drink with Cole yesterday, and he told me more than he meant to. I guess I just have one of those faces.” I cringe at the untruth, but I can see that my confession immediately makes her feel better.

  “Cole Durant?” she asks, eyes brightening slightly.

  “I guess. He never told me his last name. Tall, dark-haired?”

  Nicole rolls her eyes. “Ridiculously hot? Yeah, that’s Cole. He’s a nice guy. How did you meet him? He was expelled last semester.”

  “Oh, uh, he works at the café across from my mom’s store. We just sort of ran into each other,” I answer awkwardly, feeling oddly resentful that Nicole knew him before me. Chiding myself for being neurotic, I smile at her. “He mentioned that you stuck up for him.”

  A blush softens Nicole’s expression and she avoids my eyes. “Yeah, well. He was one of the only people who didn’t give me a hard time about the postings. He actually stood up for me too, to my asshat cousin David.”

  “Oh, yeah, I met him. He seemed…”

  “Like an evil, soulless frat monkey? Yeah, he is. I try to avoid admitting the family connection whenever possible.” She laughs and some of the tension that had lined her face evaporates. I can see that she is feeling better, having shared her concerns with me. “Thanks, Derry. I still can’t believe I told you all that, but I’m glad someone else knows.”

  “No problem. Anytime.” We look at each other in contented silence for a moment, and hope blossoms in my chest as I realize I really am making a friend, the first I’ve ever had. For a moment, it is hard to breathe.

  We talk until the tone sounds, signaling the end of the period, and as we gather up our bags and sneak through the stark landscape of the library, happiness is burning in my throat like I’ve just downed a shot of my mom’s not so cleverly hidden whiskey. I giggle helplessly when Nicole plasters herself against the wall and pretends to peer around the corner for imaginary assailants. Her laugh comes easily now, and satisfaction shoots through me, knowing that I have helped this girl, have brought the smile back to her face. Her features are no longer pinched, but relaxed and open, giving her a wholesome, sweet look. It’s hard to reconcile this Nicole with the girl who was initially so rude to me, but there’s no doubt that our meeting has benefited both of us.

  We spend lunch together, not even venturing into the cafeteria. The thought of sitting with Phillip now is too discomfiting to contemplate. Nicole tells me more about Miranda, growing up together, and even as I laugh with her, I am struck with envy. I never got to have that; someone who finishes your sentences and has your back; someone to gossip with about boys, and raid each other’s closets. Just having someone with whom to share all the mundane and extraordinary details of your life.

  I have a feeling given time, Nicole and I might have that.

  It is with an extra bounce in my step that I enter the computer lab fourth period, relieved to see that Shockey is too busy talking to another student to pay any attention to me. Remembering what he inadvertently said yesterday, I am in no hurry to attract his notice. Shane is once again already in the room, laughing at something Megan has just said, and Cathy is sitting at her computer, a hangdog look on her long face. After hesitating for a moment, I take the seat next to her with a friendly smile. She returns it weakly.

  “Jake turned me down,” she says, voice falsely cheerful. I feel a pang of sympathy for her. Her infatuation with Jake has been blatantly obvious since the moment I saw her, so I can imagine how painful a rejection from him would be.

  “Um, I wondered if you would take a look at my story? Let me know if it fits with the Agitator’s vibe?” I ask, trying to give her some kind of ego boost to counter the despondency written all over her.

  Her smile gains some strength and she looks at me with more focus. “Oh, sure! No problem! Though Jake usually does this kind of thing,” she wavers uncertainly.

  Grimacing, I lean closer and lower my voice. “I don’t want to bother him. He’s still a little sore over Shockey giving me the community beat. It would feel like rubbing his face in it if I asked him, you know?”

  She nods her understanding and a wistful expression clouds her eyes. “Jake took it pretty hard. That’s been his beat forever. But he’ll get over it. Jake is the sweetest guy…” she trails off, eyes watering. “Sorry, I’m just…”

  “Are you okay?” I ask, knowing exactly what’s bothering her.

  “Oh it’s nothing,” she whispers, voice thick with unshed tears. She glances up at me and sighs, a wry smile twisting her mouth. “It’s stupid. I should have known it was too soon, that he couldn’t…”

  I peer over at Shane and Megan, relieved to see that they are still deep in conversation. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “No, it’s fine. I asked Jake out and he said no. We’ve been spending so much time together since Miranda…died, and I thought we had bonded or something. He was really nice about it…he just said he didn’t think of me that way.” A single tear escapes and glides unheeded down her cheek. Although I think she’s probably better off not being in a relationship with someone as conflicted and aggressive as Jake, she has obviously seen a different side of him.

  “That sucks. But you know, it’s obvious that he cares about you; even I can tell that and I’ve only been around a few days,” I assure her, uncertain of how to comfort her. This is outside my experience. I’ve never even had a crush on a guy, much less asked one out.

  “Really?” Cathy’s expression is hopeful and she gives me a hesitant smile.
>
  “Yeah,” I say, beginning to wonder about the wisdom of encouraging her. “Look, I don’t have much experience with guys…well, any experience…so I don’t know how accurate my observations are. But it does seem like he cares about you, and you two have a special relationship.”

  Cathy’s eyes mist over as her cheeks flush. “Yeah, we do. I guess I need to give him more time. It’s only been a few months after all.”

  “Right.” I frown, still puzzled over Jake’s role in Miranda’s death. “So he dated Miranda? But I thought she was with Phillip when she died,” I say, hoping that Cathy can give me some insight on the strange dynamics between the three.

  She glances around and drops her voice to a hush. “She was dating Phillip, but Jake was still all about her. He’s been so torn up about it.”

  Cathy draws in a sharp breath, as though shocked at herself and pulls away, returning to her computer, cheeks flaming. Glancing over my shoulder I see a shadow stalk ahead of Jake through the door. His cloudy-blue eyes are luminous as he surveys the room, pausing momentarily on Cathy and then settling on me. Almost instantly their color seems to deepen, a cold sky above gathering clouds, and I am struck by dual urges to curl up into a ball and hide even as I begin to lean forward, closer to him. Catching myself, I break contact and swing back around to boot up the computer, trying to ignore the way my pulse is racing and the heat creeping down my neck. I can still feel his eyes on me, even as the quiet tap of his steps leads to the opposite side of the room.

  “So you wanted me to look at your story?” Cathy asks quietly, her soft voice breaking whatever strange spell I was under. I can actually feel when Jake’s gaze shifts, as though someone has removed a needle from under my skin I hadn’t known was there.

  “Yeah, thanks.” I log on and pull up my file, opening the partially written story I had worked on yesterday. “It’s not finished, but if you could tell me if I’ve got the tone right…”

  Cathy scoots her chair over and I roll mine back, giving her room. Carefully avoiding Jake’s corner of the room, I glance around, meeting up with Megan’s frosty glare. She is watching me with hostile attentiveness, as though waiting for me to mess up or say something dumb so she can pounce. It is at moments like these I realize precisely how much I don’t understand about social dynamics. Somehow I have gotten on Megan’s bad side even though we’ve only had a few conversations, and I don’t know how to fix it, or if I should even bother.

  With a sigh, I lean back and close my eyes, tuning out the chatter around me. After a moment, I feel the heat of someone’s presence beside me. Even without looking I know it is Jake. I can feel frustration rolling from him in waves, like the stuttering engine of his truck. Hoping he wants to talk to Cathy, I keep my eyes shut and pretend I don’t know he’s there.

  He clears his throat and his voice sounds low and hesitant, suddenly too close. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  I jerk away, my eyes flying open. Jake stands close enough to me that the bottom of his dark green sweater brushes against my shoulder. He is watching me with a cautious expression, as though waiting to be refused something.

  “Sorry, what? I must have dozed off,” I say, covering my reaction.

  His eyes flash, but his answer is innocent enough. “I asked if I could talk to you for a minute.”

  I glance over at Cathy, whose back has stiffened, obviously listening in on our exchange. With an internal groan I get up and Jake moves back, but still remains closer than I’m comfortable with.

  “Uh, sure. What’s this about?”

  His eyes narrow slightly in irritation, but I am in no hurry to go anywhere with him.

  “Just come with me,” he replies quietly, but I can hear the thread of purpose under his seemingly pleasant tone. Realizing I can’t refuse without making a scene, I follow him out of the room and into the hallway. He waves at Shockey from the door as he closes it behind us. The silence of the usually exuberant hallway has an ominous quality as I walk just behind Jake, wondering where he’s taking me.

  Despite my unease, I cannot help but admire the view. Jake’s lean figure, accentuated by the tight knit of his sweater and trim cut of his jeans, is disturbingly distracting. Furious with myself for feeling even a reluctant attraction to someone who is on my list of murder suspects, I force my eyes just above his head. When we turn down yet another empty hallway, I come to a halt.

  “Where are we going?” I demand, determined not to take a step further. We’ve had ample time for a brief private discussion, and I am becoming more and more certain I don’t want to hear what he has to say.

  Jake spins around and clenches his fists at his side. Not thinking, I take a step back. He catches the movement and his face falls, hands loosening and his whole posture slumping with defeat.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Derry. I just want to talk.” His voice is quiet and non-threatening now, reminding me of the injured tone he had when I accused him of abusing Miranda. A finger of remorse claws my stomach.

  “What’s wrong with right here?” I ask, not willing to give in to irrational bouts of guilt. I have a lot of practice with that from my mother.

  Glancing around, Jake shrugs. “Nothing I guess. I just don’t want to be interrupted. Would you feel more comfortable here?”

  Startled by his sudden concern for my feelings, I just stare at him. His behavior is not tracking with what I’ve come to expect.

  “There’s a classroom that’s not being used this period just down there,” he says, pointing to the end of the hall. “But we can talk here if you’d rather.”

  I hesitate, but something in his expression tells me that he really isn’t intending to lay into me again. There is actually a trace of shame in the way he ducks his head slightly and doesn’t quite meet my eyes.

  “No, it’s fine. Lead on,” I say, biting back my reservations. We’re still at school, a public place. He won’t dare to attack me here.

  A faint smile tugs at his lips and my pulse flutters. Without a word, I follow him into the dimly lit classroom and take a seat by the window, figuring that if he does start flipping out, I can scream and get someone’s attention.

  He sits down opposite me, starting to scoot his chair closer until I give him a pointed look. Abashed, he moves back and finally looks me in the eye, his expression rueful.

  “Derry, I just wanted to apologize. I have been really rude to you since the moment we met, and I want to explain.” I nod slowly. Encouraged by my reaction, he leans his elbows on his knees and fixes me with an earnest gaze. “I’m really not like this normally, but I was pretty angry that Shockey gave you my beat, and I took it out on you. I know it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t ask for it, and I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I let my anger get out of hand, and I’m afraid I’ve made you…nervous around me.”

  I serve him a skeptical look. My skin has picked up a low-level hum, indicating that he is not telling me everything. “Yeah, you did. But that doesn’t really explain the level of your anger. Seems a little out of whack to me,” I say, reining in my own irritation and keeping my tone even.

  Jake’s eyes flash again, and I could swear that for a moment the slate-blue of his eyes is swallowed by black. “It’s not all about you, I just…projected or something,” he says, some of the contrition draining from his tone. The hum under my skin picks up to a buzz.

  “I don’t think that’s true. It certainly doesn’t explain this,” I say, jerking up my sleeve to uncover the bruises from the day before, which have darkened to a black-tinged purple now. His eyes lock on the marks and something akin to despair pulls down his features.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, unable to remove his gaze from the bruises. Uncomfortable with the intensity in his eyes, I pull the sleeve back down and rub my arm. “I don’t…I didn’t mean to do that.”

  The buzz stops, and I know he is telling the truth. I soften slightly, remembering how Cole had mentioned Jake has some kind of ability linked t
o rage. It’s possible he is not aware of how dangerous he is, but I am still wary of anyone who can snap so quickly.

  I sigh. “I believe you.” Relief widens his eyes and some of the tightness leaves his posture. “But I don’t understand what I’ve done to get you so angry. And yesterday with Cole…you were pretty scary,” I say honestly, unable to forget the blaze of fury in his eyes when Cole stepped between us.

  Jake slumps and drags a hand over his face. “I know. I just get so angry and I don’t know how to shut it off.” His voice is so weary and hopeless I have to stop myself from reaching out to take his hand. With a sigh he straightens and locks his eyes with mine. “But that’s no excuse. I should never have acted like that around you, and I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

  His words have the harmony of the truth, sinking into my mind with no resistance. Curiosity takes the place of my initial doubt and I move my chair closer to him slightly. His eyes drink in the movement and he watches me with the vigilance of a hunter approaching a wounded animal.

  “I don’t want to be scared of you either, but I still don’t understand what I’ve done to get you so angry. You don’t even know me.”

  Color rushes his cheeks and he looks away. “I don’t know,” he lies. I fix him with a critical look.

  “That’s not true, I can tell.”

  “It wasn’t you I was angry with, it was Cole,” he counters. My skin amplifies its telltale vibration, and I know he’s still not telling the whole truth.

  “Look, Jake. I’m pretty good at knowing when someone’s lying, and there’s something you’re not telling me. If you want me to be comfortable around you, you’ve got to be honest. Why are you so angry with me?”

  For a moment, his whole body tenses and I am sure he is going to either lunge at me or flee, but he remains seated and looks at me with undimmed ferocity in his eyes.

  “Fine. I’m angry because the moment I saw you I wanted you, and I hate you for it,” he growls, and this time I can clearly see his pupils expand, blackening his gaze completely.