Betwixt

by Melissa Pearl

  "What kind of fun?"

  "Games, paint ball, movies... last Friday we handed out glowsticks, turned out all the lights and danced our asses off."

  I laugh. "To hymns?"

  "Okay, your misconceptions are frightening."

  He closes his locker and zips up his bag.

  "Well excuse me, but I've never been to church before."

  "Maybe you should come check it out."

  "No thank you." I frown.

  He looks a little insulted, but that half smile works its way through and pops his scar to the side.

  "You think the only way to have fun is to get drunk, buy clothes, date losers and say bitchy things about people?"

  I take a step away from him. Although they were said with light humor, I knew he meant every word.

  "Wow." I swallow. "You really don't like me, do you?"

  His eyes wash with quick regret as he hitches his bag onto his shoulder.

  "I let you keep the dog tags, didn't I?"

  I watch him walk away from me, not sure whether to be insulted or touched. Hanging out with him is the most confusing thing I've ever done. I stand there like an idiot, not sure what to feel.

  My ghostly body takes charge and runs after him before I can stop myself.

  I catch up and we walk side-by-side. He clears his throat and sniffs then glances over his right shoulder.

  "I'm on your left."

  His smile appears as he glances down at me. How can someone look so sure of themselves and so awkward at the same time?

  "I can't imagine you dancing." The words tumble out before I can stop them.

  Dale chuckles and whispers, "Believe me, if glow sticks hadn't been the only form of lighting, you couldn't have dragged me from a chair."

  I grin.

  "Did you go all Footloose on their butts?"

  "You better believe it, baby."

  Laughter rings out of me. It's such a surprising sound I actually stop walking. It is almost foreign to my ears... I haven't laughed like that since...

  I swallow and frown.

  No one can make me laugh anymore, at least not the genuine kind that's bubbling in my belly right now. How did Dale manage to do it?

  Images of him Gleeking-it-up on the dance floor bring on a fresh wave of giggles. I swallow them back and chase after him.

  Dale is standing at the school exit chatting to Adam Hutton. The guy is like Thor next to Dale. His broad frame takes up most of the doorway. I shuffle up beside them as they walk out the door. I can sense Dale listening out for me, so I give him a heads up.

  "Behind your left shoulder."

  He nods then tunes back into Adam's conversation.

  "... wants me to apply to all the big east coast colleges. Where do you think you'll go next year?"

  Dale shrugs.

  "Not sure yet. I still need to check out some course guides and figure out what I want to do. It's only September, I don't want to get caught up with the whole college thing until I absolutely have to."

  "Yeah." Adam forces out an awkward chuckle.

  What's he got to worry about? He's going to be valedictorian for sure. The guy works harder than any other student at this school, not to mention the fact he's a star athlete and on the student council. The guy's so golden he's practically a statue.

  I wonder how he came to be friends with Dale?

  "Are you okay, man? You look kinda tired." Dale slaps him on the shoulder.

  Who am I kidding? Dale is so nice to everybody, who wouldn't want to be friends with him.

  Adam runs his hand through his shaggy blond hair. "I didn't sleep well last night. I worked late on an assignment then couldn't switch off." He shrugs and shoots Dale a nervous smile. "I'm my own worst enemy."

  Dale grins and fishes in his pocket for his keys.

  "Catch you later, man." Adam gives him a wave and saunters towards the bus stop.

  "Hey, you want a ride?"

  Adam's square face brightens with a smile. "You sure? That'd be awesome, thanks."

  "What? Why?" I frown. I don't want to share the car with anyone else. I want to talk to Dale uninterrupted. "Do we really have time for this? Don't we have some pre-dark searching to do?"

  Dale shoots a stern look in my direction. "He's on the way," he whispers.

  Adam lopes over to the car and opens the passenger door.

  Dale opens his door and pretends to fluff around with his bag, giving me time to jump in the back.

  "Thanks," I whisper, still a little sulky.

  He throws his bag in the back with a wink. I can't help smiling.

  I shuffle back in the seat as Adam starts talking again.

  "My mom stole my car."

  Dale laughs. "What?!"

  "Yeah, hers is in the shop getting fixed and she took off with mine for the day. She didn't even offer to swing by and collect me after school. Man, I hate catching the bus. You saved me, bro."

  "Not a problem."

  The car revs to life and Dale swings out of the parking lot.

  I really don't like Dale's car. It's an old Toyota Corolla. A mustard yellow hunk of junk. Adam rolls down the window and we all wince at the high pitched screech.

  "Sorry, man." Dale grins. "Had to save for this baby on my own, so it's... an inbetweener."

  "Nah, it's cool."

  Adam is being very polite. He owns a gorgeous midnight blue mustang that guys drool over and girls want rides in. He got it for his 16th birthday. It was a gift from his rich uncle and apparently his Dad (Sheriff Hutton) totally flipped out. After an epic battle he was allowed to keep the car, but I think the rules are pretty strict. If he ever gets in trouble - which he never does - but if he ever did, the car would be the first thing to go.

  Adam is a really nice guy, but man, he struts like a peacock when he's walking into school each morning.

  I roll my eyes as we bump our way to the Hutton home.

  My phone chirps again and Dale reaches for it.

  He frowns.

  "You know it's really dangerous to read and drive."

  He glances in the rearview mirror and shoots me a dry look. I grin.

  Clearing his throat, Dale drops the phone in his lap and looks at Adam.

  "You voted in the Nicole Poll today?"

  "Nah, man. I'm not into that stuff." Adam looks out the window and clears his throat.

  "Do you know her very well?"

  "What are you doing?" I lean forward.

  Adam shrugs.

  "Yeah, sort of. We used to hang out a little when we were kids."

  "So, what's up with her?

  "What'd you mean?"

  "Come on." Dale smiles. "Was she always like this?"

  "Always like what?"

  "You know, outspoken, irritating..."

  I punch Dale as hard as I can. My fist goes straight through his shoulder, but at least I see him shiver.

  Adam's still looking out the window, but gives a hearty laugh. I throw him the evils.

  "No way." Adam shakes his head and turns back to face his friend. "She used to be awesome. We hung out all the time in middle school. There was this massive group of us and we used to do everything together. Nicole was always really organized and she'd come up with this whacky stuff for us to do."

  I notice Dale's head tip to the side and his eyes narrow slightly. "What happened?"

  "It's none of your business," I whisper sharply.

  "Jody."

  "Who?"

  Adam glances at Dale. "You don't know this story?"

  Dale shakes his head.

  "Jody was Nicole's little sister. She was this cute little blonde kid with a constant smile. Pure sunshine, you know?"

  My heart begins to pound so hard I think it might burst out of my chest. I push my fingers into the middle of my ribcage.

  "Nicole adored her. One day she..." Adam clears his throat.

  Don't say it. Don't tell him, Adam. I want to scream the words aloud, but I know it won't do any good.
<
br />   "She fell out of a tree, broke her neck and died."

  My ears start ringing as I slump back into my seat.

  "She was only nine," Adam ended softly.

  "Whoa." Dale's knuckles are white as they grip the wheel. "That explains a lot."

  "Nicole was the one who found her."

  Dale's head jerks to the side. The surprise on his face is unmissable, swiftly followed by sadness. I turn away from it. There's nothing I can say to stop this.

  "She's never been the same since. She went into hiding over the summer and then when she got to high school she started hanging out with..."

  "The wrong kinda people?"

  "Pretty much." Adam nods.

  The car fills with that eerie silence that follows tragic news. I keep my eyes out the window, watching the world slow to a stop as Dale pulls into Adam's driveway. Dale pulls up the parking brake as Adam opens his door.

  "Do you think she's run away?"

  Adam pauses and scratches the nape of his neck.

  "I don't know, man. Maybe." His Adam’s apple shoots down his throat and back up again before he forces a smile and gets out of the car.

  Dale waits for the slam of the door before reversing onto the road. I watch Adam walk to his door then turn and watch us leave. I swivel in the seat and look out the back window as he gazes after us.

  Part of me wants to hate him. Another part has to admit that it was going to come out eventually.

  I glance back at Dale. He keeps looking in the rearview mirror, searching for my response.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I don't say anything. I can't. Adam is soon out of view. I keep looking out the back window, unable to face Dale. He was the one person at school who didn't know.

  I hate that the status quo has changed.

  Dale clears his throat.

  "You want to sit in front with me?"

  "No, I'm fine back here," I mumble.

  The car eases to a stop. Slowly I turn around to see Dale facing me.

  "I'm sorry." His voice is soft.

  "For what?" My voice is hard.

  His eyes fill with compassion as he whispers, "I'm sorry you had to find your sister like that. I'm sorry you lost her."

  "I don't want to talk about it." I clear my throat.

  "Nic-"

  "I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!"

  Dale jolts back in his seat and accidentally hits the horn. Adjusting his position, he swivels back to face the road and gives a short, "Okay."

  Putting the car in gear, we bunny hop forward for a second until Dale finds his rhythm. I'm still clinging to my numbness - the only form of protection I've known since the accident.

  I close my eyes.

  Jody.

  I squeeze my hand into a tight fist, willing it to hurt. I used to be able to draw blood. I open my hand now and see nothing... of course. You can't cut ghosts' skin... just their hearts.

  Silence fills the car until we pass the turn off to Matt's house and start heading further into the forest.

  "Anything look familiar?"

  I lean towards the glass and shake my head.

  "Nicole?"

  "It all looks the same." I sigh. "I could have been anywhere around here."

  "Just keep looking, see if something sparks a memory."

  I do what I'm told and ask Dale to slow down about five minutes later.

  "This could be it. I mean there's a steep bank all along this road."

  "Well, let's get out and take a look."

  Dale looks hopeful as he jumps out the door and starts walking along the road.

  "If you were hit, there will probably be markings or damage to the guardrail," he calls over his shoulder. "You head up that way and I'll try down here, see if we spot anything."

  I grab the dog tags around my neck as I march up the road, looking at the guardrail. I've walked at least a 100 yards when I turn around and shout, "I don't see anything. The railing looks fine."

  "Same down here." Dale's voice wafts back to me. "Come on, let's drive a little further."

  We spend the next hour jumping in and out of the car. The guardrail is fine along the entire road and by mile fifteen, I'm totally over it.

  "I don't want to do this anymore."

  Dale glances at his watch.

  "I should probably get home anyway." He puts his foot on the gas and we head back towards Big Bear Village.

  "What a waste of time." I sigh.

  "I don't think so."

  I look over at him from the front passenger's seat.

  "I always knew you were an idiot."

  His snicker is followed by a quick smirk.

  "We can cross that stretch of road off now. It wasn't a waste of time."

  "Okay, fine." I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes.

  Sometimes I feel like Dale can see me or something. It's like he can sense what I'm doing and rather than launching into more tiring conversation, he simply leans forward and turns on the radio.

  The music washes over us as we amble back to town. I feel the beat thump inside me as the lyrics swirl in my brain. I can't help singing along.

  "You actually like this song?"

  I open my eyes and spot Dale's grin. "Everybody likes this song."

  "No, no they really don't."

  My eyebrows dip together. "Then why are you listening to it?"

  "Because I like the sound of your voice."

  Embarrassed, I sit up a little straighter. A smile tugs on my lips and I fight to iron it out.

  "So you like to sing, at home, when no one's watching?" Dale changes gear and glances over at me.

  "Maybe." I shrug.

  "Hairbrush or deodorant?"

  I grin.

  "My hairbrush makes a much better microphone."

  "Nice." Dale nods. "I was always more of a spatula kinda guy."

  "You were not." I try to playfully whack his shoulder, but my hand goes straight through.

  He scratches the spot I hit him and laughs. "I swear, I used to find every bowl and pot in the kitchen and turn it into this mega drum kit. I'd smack the hell out of those things. It drove my mother insane."

  I laugh. "Good musicians start young, I guess."

  "Yeah, well I'm hardly a talent, but I have fun."

  "So, a drummer boy then. You know, that's actually pretty cool."

  "Oh, well I'm glad you approve."

  Another song starts and I feel my insides jolt with pleasure. I love this one.

  "Can you turn it up, please?"

  Dale obliges without comment and for some reason, I launch into song. I don't know why. I'd never do it with any of my friends, but I somehow feel as though I'm allowed to in this dungy old car. Like it's safe or something.

  I finish the song with a loud flourish.

  Dale shakes his head with a grin. "You're a Gleek aren't you?"

  "No." I turn in my seat then sigh. "Maybe... okay yes, but if you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

  "Why don't you want me to tell anyone. Glee's cool."

  "Shut up. Glee is cool."

  "It is."

  Huh! Sarcastic much!

  My eyes narrow as I gaze at him.

  "I know you can't see it right now, but I'm giving you a very dry look."

  "No, I can see it."

  "You can?" My voice comes out all high and squeaky.

  "In my head," Dale admits softly. "I can picture you really clearly in my head and I know that look. You do it a lot."

  I don't know how to respond to this. He makes it sound as though he's been studying me since he arrived at our school about a year ago. I gaze at him in confused silence then glance down at my nails, suddenly awkward.

  Leaning back in his seat, Dale pulls out his iPod and searches for music while trying to keep an eye on the road. A few minutes later, he's plugging it into the stereo with a grin.

  "You know what's cooler than Glee though, right?"

  Cranking up the volume, Dale lets Granite thump th
rough the car.

  A delighted laugh escapes my lips as Dale starts belting out the tune with gusto.

  Within seconds I'm joining him.

  We sing as loudly as we can, all the way to Dale's house.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I have no reason to be nervous about going into Dale's house, but I am. I step through the door and gaze around the interior. It's actually quite nice. Very plain and simple, but classy all the same. The walls are wooden, giving it that log cabin feel, I bet there's a fireplace in the living room. I glance at the solid wooden bannister on the left side of the stairs and wonder if Dale's ever popped his legs either side of it and slid down to the bottom. It'd be tempting, that's for sure.

  Dale's mother appears around the corner.

  "Hey sweetie." She reaches up on tiptoes and gives Dale a kiss on the cheek.

  Far out I think she's actually shorter than me! I didn't think that was possible.

  Stepping back, she looks up with an adoring smile. "How was school?"

  "Yeah, good."

  His mother walks towards the kitchen.

  "An eventful day?"

  Dale looks over his shoulder with a wry smile. "You could say that."

  "But a good one?" She turns at the kitchen counter. Her eyes are dancing with sweet merriment. It's really hard not to look at them.

  Dale smiles and nods his head.

  "Yeah, mom, it was great."

  "Fantastic."

  Far out, she looks as though she's about to cry. She obviously really wants Dale to do well at school, or be happy... or something. My heart gives a little squeeze as I watch her genuine interest as Dale runs through the bland parts of his day and makes up some excuse about why he's late.

  "Dinner's in half an hour. I'll call you when it's ready."

  "Awesome, I'm starving." Dale kisses her cheek and scoots up the stairs just off the kitchen.

  I can't help gazing around the house as I follow him up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. The whole feel of the house is different to mine. It's much older - looks like it was built in the 70s or 80s. The carpet's been redone though, but with a nice rich burgandy color that gives the house a yummy warmth.

  Yummy warmth? Really?

  I shake my head. That's what it feels like. I don't know how else to describe it.