by Jolene Perry
“I… I don’t know.” But her blush gives it away. “It’s so scary putting yourself out there like that. I have no idea what I’m doing. He just got divorced. I just—”
“You really like him.” The twinges of jealousy are back.
Her eyes meet mine, almost like looking in the mirror. “I do. I just have to keep telling myself it’s worth the risk.”
Right. In my mind, there’s no such thing as worth the risk. “Good.” I’m still not sure if I like the idea or not, but again, there’s not a whole lot I can do about it.
“Are you still mad about the move?” She looks at me with apologetic squinty eyes.
I stop and look out at the water. Even on this grey day, I love it. “I wasn’t mad—”
“You were mad. It’s okay that you were mad. I just want to know if you still are?”
“It’s nice.” I begin to walk back to the stairway. “I understand. And if I can avoid the family, it’ll be perfect.”
Mom sighs. “How are you so anti-social?”
“Must take after my dad.” I smile a little to myself as I keep walking and hear Mom jog to catch up.
“You must.” She laughs and pats me on the back. Flash of white, then black. Nothing else.
What is that?
I let her bump into me again to find out if I can see more. Something I’ve never done on purpose.
Kind eyes, warm smile. Ethan.
And for the first time seeing his face gives me some relief. No bizarre white and black. My body and brain are exhausted. I wonder if there’s any way to get a break from this.
EIGHT
Someone knocks on the front door. It almost feels weird. Like it’s not our house because anyone from the main house could come by anytime. Mom’s gone, so I wait to hear another knock before getting up.
I slowly open our front door to see Steven’s curly hair, downcast eyes, and rumpled cargo khakis. “Steven?” What’s he doing here? How am I supposed to avoid him if he knows where I live? I look him almost straight in the eyes. He’s not all that much taller than I am. Or broader, for that matter.
“I would have called, but I didn’t have your number, and I know this is kind of weird, just showing up like this. I just wanted to stop in and say hi.” It comes out in a rush. His hands are shoved into his pockets.
“How did you know where I live?” I probably just came off sounding rude again.
“I know Ethan.” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “And this is a small town.”
“Oh.” I self-consciously pull my hair back. It’s not normally down. His face is worse now, a few days later. My eyes shift from his bruise to the trees behind him.
“Sorry.” He takes a step back. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“Give me a sec, okay?” I need some time to think or something. I feel jumbled. I’m not used to people showing up at my doorstep, not ones who are looking for me. I’m losing my touch. I’ve done a terrible job of disappearing since moving here. Steven, Landon, Lacey…
I walk to the bathroom and pull my hair back into my standard messy ponytail. Steven’s still standing just outside my door. I slide on my Keds and grab my sweater off a chair. “Okay, why don’t we walk?” I don’t know what else to do. Sitting somewhere feels too personal. Having him in my house is definitely too personal. A walk feels safe.
We take slow, small steps, and I keep a two-person distance between us. Just to make sure.
“So, what’s going on?” I ask.
“I’m staying with my uncle for a while. I wanted you to know.”
There’s some relief in that. I’m not used to being able to do anything for people.
Wait. “So, you’re staying here?” I gesture with my head to the Michaels’ house as we walk down their driveway toward the street.
“No, no.” He shakes his head. “Our moms are sisters, but they don’t get along. Neither of them likes the others’ husband. But their brother lives in town.”
“And he’s letting you stay with him?” I’m surprised at how glad I am that he has somewhere to stay.
“Um… When I took Landon home the other morning. You know, after Lacey. He said he needed to go there first. I sat in the car while he went inside. My uncle came out and asked me to stay with him.” Steven shuffles his feet a few steps and kicks a rock across the street.
Wow. I take in a deep breath. There’s a long stretch of road out here that’s nothing but trees. It’s quiet, green and smells like earth and rain. A musty, wet smell that I’m starting to love. “So, what you’re saying is that Landon’s not as terrible as you make him out to be.”
“Oh no, Landon’s still a spoiled jerk.” His head turns my direction for the first time since we hit the road. “You don’t like him, do you? You’re not joining the throngs of girls who would do anything for the senator’s kid, right?”
I laugh even though I know I probably watch him as much as any girl. “I don’t even know him, Steven.” But it is nice to know the little bits of kindness and humor I’ve seen in him are genuine. “I’m glad you have somewhere to be.”
I hear a car shift down and Landon’s black mustang screeches around the corner. “Could he be more obnoxious?” Steven stares and Landon waves as he drives past us.
“He could be Josh.”
“And you think Landon isn’t as bad as Josh? Or their other friend, Cameron?” He shifts his body sideways as we walk to watch me.
“I don’t have any classes with Cameron.” I’m not even positive who he is. But Landon doesn’t hold a candle to Josh on the obnoxious scale. I know better than to say anything to Steven.
Steven stops. “I promised my uncle I’d help him set up bunk beds for his girls tonight. I should head back.” He reaches his hand out to take mine.
Even though I don’t like, like him, holding a hand would be nice. I just don’t want to touch him. “I…” I start to say something even though I have no idea what should come out next.
“I get it. You’re not at all interested.” He chuckles and shuffles his feet again before kicking another rock.
I feel bad, but I barely talk to anyone but Mom and don’t know what to tell him. We’re still walking at a snail’s pace up the road toward Landon’s driveway.
When he twists his body after sending another rock flying into the trees, his elbow brushes mine.
Panic. Anger. He sees me, another guy I can’t see through the shadows near me, and he’s running toward me. Landon runs near him. There are trees, and water, and it’s gone.
The image washes over me, leaving me weak. I lean over, resting my hands on my knees, seeing spots. No, no, no. I’m supposed to be avoiding people. Panic? Anger? What on earth would put me in a situation for Steven to feel that while I’m in the picture? Why are he and Landon running my way? My stomach tightens.
I think about how I knew my vision from Mom of me on the porch was about to happen, and I even thought about changing it, but it still happened. This is not good. I’m not sure if I want to try to see that vision again, or pretend I didn’t see it.
“Are you okay?” He reaches out for me again.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Sorry.” His arms drop, but his dark eyes don’t waver.
I hold my hand up between us as I stand up. Guess I really don’t want to see it again.
“Are you okay, Micah?” His face is full of concern.
“I don’t feel great. I think I need to get home.” All completely true.
“Need help?” He reaches out for me again, and I half jump into the roadway to avoid him.
“I’m guessing that’s a no.” He runs a hand through his curls as he lets out a breath. I’m sure he has no idea what to do with me.
I start walking on shaky legs. “That’s a no.”
“What happened? I mean, are you okay?” And then he seems almost hurt, which I probably would be too if positions were reversed.
“Just…” How on earth do I answer this? “Came on suddenly. I s
wear it’s not you.”
He walks half sideways, silent, maybe afraid to talk. I clutch my stomach, and wish beyond anything to stop seeing things, and then part of me wants to see it again. Get some detail. I glance up at Steven and remember how panicked he felt. Okay. Maybe not.
We pass Steven’s car.
“You don’t have to walk me home. I’m just going to take my time and sit outside.” Mostly I need to be alone.
“It feels like a really rude kind of—”
I attempt a dismissive gesture. “Please. Just. I’m fine. I’d rather you not stick around in case I puke in the woods, okay?”
That one works. He nods, glances between me and the Michaels’ house, and then climbs into his car.
Should I have touched him again? I’m not sure. Probably it would have been smart. Or, maybe the stupid panic/anger/Micah-might-be-in-trouble vision will haunt me all on its own.
The day has turned chilly, and I rub my arms as I watch Steven drive away. The presence of the Michaels’ house weighs on me, so I start up the driveway for home.
“Hey, Micah.”
I spin around, my heart immediately hitting the insides of my ribcage. Landon.
“What?” I don’t mean to, but I can feel my face pull into a scowl. I’m not in the mood for Landon. Or being close to him. Or having to talk to him. Or possibly having to touch him. Or maybe it’s that I might want some of those things too much.
“So, are you going out with my cousin or something?” He’s walking toward me across his driveway as he slides on his hoodie. Was he watching from inside?
“I don’t see how that’s your business.” It feels like my heart’s going to break free, pound its way out of my chest. I tighten my arms and walk faster.
“He’s just dealing with a lot right now.” Landon jogs up to catch me. His brows are pushed down, and he looks almost…concerned. His voice is softer now that we’re close.
I pause. Like an idiot who has forgotten how not to be seen. “His dad. I know.” I take a step back, turn, and continue up my driveway keeping my eyes directed ahead.
“Wait a minute.” He jogs up behind me. “How do you know that?”
I open my mouth to speak, but I’m not sure how to answer. I don’t change my movements, how fast I’m walking, where I’m looking. “The, uh… It just didn’t look like the kind of bruise you’d get from a bike accident. That’s all.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Landon walks backwards a few steps trying to catch my eyes through his shaggy blond hair. When I don’t slow, he reaches out, touching my shoulder.
My face. Warm sun. A way lot of like.
“Why the hell would it matter?” It’s snappy and borderline rude, but I wasn’t expecting to be touched. To see my fluke vision again. Maybe I should just be glad he didn’t have the same panic/anger/Micah’s in trouble feeling that Steven did.
“Sorry.” He holds his hands up in the air, but his forehead is wrinkled in worry.
“I’m…” I look up at him and start to apologize, but nothing comes out. It’s not your fault, I want to say. It’s just me. Will you really like me the way I see from you? Do I want that?
Landon stops in my driveway as I walk toward home. It feels unfinished. At least he’s a nice guy—worrying about Steven. Finding him a place to be. That should say something.
I’m just not used to dealing with people like this. Really, I should probably go into hiding for a while. Being out and talking this much is putting me on edge. I’ve never looked forward to a trip to my dad’s house as much as I am now.
***
It’s starting to get dark and the rain is pouring down, but I leave for Dad’s tomorrow, and want to go down to the dock before bed. The ocean in Maine isn’t the same as the ocean on the west coast. My perception, I’m sure. Anyway, Dad doesn’t live on the ocean like we do.
Mom gives me a puzzled look as I grab my raincoat, but I tell her I don’t plan on being gone long, and she settles back into the couch.
The sound of the water droplets in the forest makes the raindrops sound almost like bits of glass hitting the leaves and pine needles as I slowly walk down the now muddy path.
Just as I hit the place where our trail meets up with the wider walkway to Landon’s house, a huge form appears in front of me.
I let out a scream as my heart begins to speed.
“Sorry. Sorry!” His voice is deep, and I can’t make out a face underneath the hood of his blue raincoat in the dark.
I scramble back a few steps ready to run.
“I’m Senator Michaels. This is my house.” He pulls his hood back just enough that I can make out his features in the dark.
“Micah.” But my voice comes out in a squeak as my heart begins to slow. Then I just hope he doesn’t reach out to shake my hand.
His eyes are on me, but don’t seem to stay in any one place, like he’s looking at all the part of my face, and also around and behind me in the woods.
I spin to see if anything’s behind me, but it’s just the rain still beating down in the forest.
“See anything out here?” he asks.
“What?” Anything? What does that mean? Trees? But there’s an edge to his voice that makes me sure he’s trying to freak me out. Or maybe I’m freaking me out. Or maybe this whole situation is just unexpected and weird.
He lets out one of those single chuckle laughs. “I’m always seeing things in the woods here. My imagination maybe.” Only now, the way he says imagination makes me think he’s still trying to scare me.
I take another step back. This whole interchange isn’t sitting right with me. He’s someone’s dad, I tell myself, but it still doesn’t calm my nerves.
“How old are you, Micah?” he asks.
“Not quite eighteen.” I shift my weight back, almost afraid to take another step away. Like if I do, he’ll chase me or something. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being ridiculous.
“Well, night then.” And without another word or glance back at me, he continues up the wide path toward his house.
This has one of the most bizarre encounters I think I’ve ever had.
I’m no longer in the mood for the water, and just want back home. But as I start up the slippery trail, Senator Michaels’ words echo in my head.
See anything out here?
I decide running back to the house is better than the walk I had planned. If he wanted to scare the crap out of me, it worked.
NINE
I recline in my seat on the plane, and wait for everyone else or almost everyone else to file out. I’ve only been bumped by people twice. No big deal. It already feels like a break from home. There has never been a time when I’ve looked forward to seeing my dad so much—the visions from Landon, Lacey, Steven, and even Mom. It all just brings too many things to sort out right now.
I step out into the night air of Bangor, Maine. It’s dark, but Dad said he’s still driving the same ivory four-door Toyota so I’m not worried about finding him. I walk out to the curb and see the car immediately.
Dad looks older than his forty years. His hair is thinning, and he keeps it trimmed very short, not bothering to hide his bare head. He wears glasses—they’re thin and square-like, and he’s in a button-up shirt and khakis. Always. Like his uniform or something.
He stands out of the car. “Good to see you, Micah.” He hugs me without pulling us too close together, and it’s blissful blankness as usual. And like I’ve been waiting for. Needing.
“You, too.” I smile a little as he steps away.
“Climb on in. Let’s get out of this traffic.”
I take my seat in the passenger’s side, and lean back to stretch my legs in front of me. Finally some real relaxation.
“Happy eighteenth.” Dad smiles wide. “You still against the whole birthday thing?”
I chuckle. “Pretty much, yeah. It’s just a day.”
“Well, I’ll take you shopping tomorrow anyway.” He shifts around in his seat, as we start mov
ing. His hands grip the steering wheel with more than his usual relaxed way of driving.
“What’s up, Dad?”
“I…uh. I’m engaged.” I can see a smile start to form on his lips.
I sit up. So much for relaxation. “Wow. I didn’t know you were even…” I’m in total shock.
“I met her at work. She doesn’t work with me in the city planning department, but she’s in the same building.” He steals a quick look my way.
“So, is she living with you?” I realize my little vacation might not be much of a vacation if I’m tiptoeing around my dad and his fiancé.
“She is. But if it makes you uncomfortable, Micah, she can go back to her place for the few days you’re here.” He licks his lips—still nervous.
“It doesn’t bother me, Dad. It’s no big deal.” There’s no way I’m going to ask his fiancé to leave. I’ll just have to be a little more cheery and careful than I normally bother to be around Dad.
I see his shoulders, arms, and hands relax. “I think you’ll like her. She’s… Well, she’s pretty amazing.”
“Good.” I always wondered why neither of my parents had ever married. They certainly weren’t hung up on one another. Maybe it’s why I didn’t mind being alone as much as I should. They’re both loners, just maybe in different ways. Well, I guess neither are loners anymore.
Just me.
***
My dad’s house is beige and white. That’s it. Beige and white, inside and outside. He’s lived in the same house since I can remember. Dad opens the front door and holds it for me to walk in.
“We’re here!” he calls.
I don’t know now if I’m allowed to just go in like normal? Or if I should wait for Carol? My problem is solved when Carol walks around the corner. She has shoulder length caramel colored hair and a small round face with a petite nose. She’s not thin, but she’s not fat either. Just curvy.
“Carol, this is my daughter, Micah.” Dad smiles his pleasant smile. His business smile. He must be nervous again, which kind of cracks me up. Parents are just supposed to…be.
I brace myself for what I know is coming when I reach my hand out to shake hers.
