by Jolene Perry
Another chill runs through me as I sit in the empty house. I need the ocean.
I follow our path through the woods, and my feet slip and slide on the wet roots and mud. The sand from the beach will be sticky in this weather, but I can still sit on the dock for a while.
A whisper of something through the giant ferms leaves them swaying, and I squint, seeing nothing that could have been the cause. But still they sway as if someone just moved through them.
Nothing. There’s nothing.
But my heart pounds louder as I step off the trail into the woods. Because as much as I want to believe it was nothing, I’m sure I saw something. The woods are full of things that move. Smaller ferns hide my feet, and the wide, tall trees stretch above me for what feels like miles. I scan the trees. Okay. This is ridiculous. It was probably a bird, or a deer, or… Well, there are a lot of choices. Only now all I can think about is that stupid project we’re working on in world history. Curse Landon and his stupid love of the Bahamas. Shadows. Seriously.
I pull in a breath as I realize that my brain’s just playing tricks on me, and continue toward the water. If only I could get my heart to slow down as soon as I figured the movement was all in my head.
I get three steps onto the wide dock when I hear laughter. Someone must be behind the wooden boathouse—I can’t see them since it’s almost as large as the house I live in.
A girl, and then a boy’s voice. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but I’m not the first person here. Are they in the boat house? Behind it? I’m not sure, and it doesn’t seem worth the risk. I turn back and start up the path back home.
“Michael.” A girl laughs behind me. “Is that right?”
“It’s Micah,” I say. I turn to see Brigitte underneath Landon’s arm. She knows my name.
Her arms are wrapped around his waist. her hair is tousled by the rain, and whatever they were up to before I arrived. Landon stumbles as he walks next to her.
“Whatever.” She laughs. “Like it matters.”
“No, no.” Landon shakes his head. “Be nice. Micah’s nice.” His speech slurs, and his smile wobbles on his face.
Brigitte sputters out a laugh. They’ve both been drinking. The smell burns my nose. How could he? After Lacey? How could she?
I can’t walk away. I just stand in place, watching them walk toward me. I need to turn and go. Go! But I can’t make myself do it.
I step off the sidewalk as they move by me. Landon’s arm brushes my hand and my face is all I can see. From Landon. AGAIN.
My blond hair is down. The sun’s shining. My eyes are closed. He likes me. I feel the pull in his chest. My face looks soft and peaceful, and there’s a small smile on my lips.
There are so many things wrong with what I’m seeing that I suddenly don’t know anything. I gasp for air.
Landon stops with a giggling Brigitte underneath his arm. “You okay?” His eyebrows pull together and his face is suddenly all seriousness. Brigitte pulls him toward the house but he doesn’t move. His hazel eyes stare into mine.
I gotta go. Gotta run.
His hand reaches for my arm.
Anger. Frustration. He’s running toward me. Steven’s to his right. I’m in the woods next to someone dark that I can’t see.
Not this one again. First from Steven, and now from Landon. Maybe I prefer the one where he likes me.
I’m finally able to move my feet. Relief. I turn and run.
When I get near the house I pull out my cell and dial Dad’s number with shaky fingers. I have never. Never. Called my dad for advice before, ever. But things between us are different now. And why did I have to see myself? Why does Landon like me? Why is he running toward me?
“Micah?” Dad answers.
“Yeah.” I’m suddenly not sure what to say. I’m out of breath from my sprint up the hill.
“This is a surprise. What can I do for you?” he asks.
“I...”
There’s concern in his voice. “What is it? You’re breathing hard. Are you okay?”
“I saw myself.” One is a really nice vision that actually scares me more than the one I saw from Steven and then Landon as they ran toward me.
“You mean you touched yourself and saw something or…?”
“No, I touched someone else, on accident, and I saw myself.”
“Who was it?”
“A…” I can’t make myself say it.
“A, uh, boy?” He clears his throat. His uncomfortable reaction makes this situation feel more normal. It helps.
“Um, yeah.” I suddenly wish I could talk to Mom. At least he can’t see my cheeks, which are sure to be a shade of flaming red. And I don’t even know which vision to ask him about. Which one I should think about. Or worry about.
But then I remember that Dad’s trying to save Carol. He doesn’t need to worry about me, too. “He likes me.” That seems safer.
“What are you going to do?”
“What?” I ask. “I don’t know! You’re the parent. What do I do?”
He laughs a little. “I don’t know why you think I know anything, Micah. If you like him move toward it. I don’t know.”
“But that’s it, Dad. We’re not even, like, friends. He’s the senator’s son. We don’t exactly hang with the same crowd.” Also—how would he even ever be in the position to be running toward me?
“Well, if you’re anything like your dad, you don’t hang with a crowd at all.”
Good point. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Then pretend you didn’t see it.”
But I can’t do that, not if I think I’m going to be in some kind of danger.
“But that’s not what you did with Carol. You said you saw yourself when you touched her, and it made you move forward.”
“Then, do what I did, and move forward.”
“But what if what I saw is wrong?” How is he not sensing the desperation of this kind of situation? Well, aside from me giving him no specifics to go on.
“I’m feeling like you’re looking for something from me that that I’m not going to be able to give you.” I hear nothing but his breathing for a moment. “I’m sorry, Micah. You can act on it or you can pretend you didn’t see it.”
I let out a long deep breath.
“I’m sorry. I feel like I’m letting you down here.”
“No, Dad. You’re right, I just… Sometimes it would be easier if someone made my decisions for me.”
“Well, some decisions are made for you, especially at your age. Enjoy the freedom that comes from making some on your own,” he adds brightly.
“Yeah, real helpful, Dad.”
“I’m sorry, again. It’s a tough thing to know, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Because what on earth do I do with this kind of information?
“Oh, and Micah. From your little tip, I know the hospital and if you have a heart on your wrist it means you’re in the cardiac wing. Carol thinks I’ve gone crazy, but she has aspirin in her purse, and I’m eating healthier. We’re going for walks. We got our cholesterol checked. I’m doing what I can, so thank you.”
“I’m glad I helped a little.” It only eases some of my tension.
“Love you, Micah.” His voice is full of the softness that’s always been missing. Maybe it has to do with me, maybe with Carol opening up a part of him. I don’t care. It’s nice to hear.
“Love you too, Dad.” I’m about to hang up but I know he’s still there. “Thanks for letting me talk.”
“Anytime.” His end clicks.
I stuff my phone in my pocket no closer to making a decision or even knowing how to formulate a question than I was a few moments ago. But I feel better.
***
“You’re dressed nice today,” Mom comments as I walk out of the bathroom.
I am dressed nicer than normal—my favorite sweater, nice jeans and flats. Even my hair’s cooperating today, allowing the straightener to actually work. I spent more time on my
make-up. What’s wrong with me? My subconscious is trying to push me toward Landon, I’m sure of it. I spin around to my bedroom.
“What on earth are you doing?” Mom calls from the living room.
“I need to change.”
“We’re late, Micah. I need to go.”
“Well, crap.” I step out of my room and nearly slam the door behind me.
***
“You look pretty today.” Josh wags his eyebrows as I sit behind Brigitte.
“Uh.” I look down. “Thanks.” I still can’t look at Brigitte after seeing her with Landon in front of his house.
Jessica glares at me from the seat behind Josh. I look away. My eyes catch Landon’s as he walks in the room. Brigitte waves as he walks in, bouncing in her seat, as if they haven’t seen each other in a week. I force myself not to roll my eyes.
Landon smiles at his girlfriend and sits down in his seat. His eyes meet mine. Crap. I’m still staring.
“Where have you been?” he asks.
“I saw you yesterday.” My jaw is set. Yesterday, when you were walking drunk with your girlfriend.
Brigitte giggles, reaches out and touches him. He doesn’t seem to see her.
“But you were gone for almost a week.” He’s persistent.
“I’m amazed you noticed.”
“You do live in my yard.” He smirks.
I look away. It feels like an insult. I’m not into it. “Whatever.” I cross my arms and shift my body to face away from him.
“Sorry. That came out wrong.” He sits back in his chair, letting himself slide down into a position that makes him look he’s trying way too hard to be comfortable. He’s still watching me, waiting for an answer.
I feel bad. Why do I feel bad? “I visit my dad a few times a year.” I stare ahead.
Our teacher stands up to start class, and all I hope is that we’re ignoring our group project today. I don’t want that creepy feeling I get over Landon’s stupid myth, people with talents, and the shadows. Especially since my house is surrounded by trees where something always seems to be moving. I shake off that weird feeling I got when I nearly ran into Landon’s dad.
See anything out here?
I also don’t know how to act around Landon or Brigitte. I also don’t want to think about Lacey’s empty chair.
Brigitte leans slightly toward Landon and whispers. “So, we’re all having a party on Friday. Cameron’s parents are out of town. You can make it, right? Your senator Dad doesn’t have anything fancy going on or anything?”
“He’s out of town.” I can feel Landon’s eyes still focused on me for a moment before his head turns to Brigitte.
She whips her head around and gives me her best glare of death. I smile. Her round little face in a scowl is hysterical.
“Excuse, me. Brigitte?” Mr. Chint asks. “May we begin?” he adds.
“Go right ahead.”
I can tell from behind her what kind of sickeningly sweet smile she’s working right now. Part of me wants to grab a strand of her hair and pull, just to see if she can hold it together. But I don’t.
ELEVEN
Light from the sun hits my eyes as I wake, and I lie in bed just to enjoy the warmth coming through my window. As much as I miss the porch from our old apartment, it’s so quiet out here. I roll out of bed and trade my pajama pants for jeans. Better. I pick a hoodie off the back of the chair in my room, but don’t feel like actually, really getting dressed. I keep on the tank top I slept in, not bothering with a bra.
I grab a banana and head outside. It’s not as warm as it could be, but it’s still morning. Maybe it’ll warm up later on. The forest around our small house feels quieter today. No birds, no breeze. I start down the path. Something moves out of the corner of my eye, and I stop to stare. Landon?
It seemed like it was a person, I mean. I’m sure it was someone, but now that I’m looking, nothing’s there. Sometimes deer wander through, but I don’t hear anything. I squint into the deep green and don’t see anything else. No forms, no movement, just shadows from the tall trees. But if it’s just shadows, why is my heart beating so hard? Again?
I’m pathetic and need to stop letting my school project creep its way into my brain like this.
But I have a gift. A talent.
Stop, Micah. It’s not a gift or a talent. It’s a glitch. A really crappy glitch.
My eyes are adjusting to the dim light. I step off the path, but still don’t see anything else. Okay. I’m crazy. And maybe I really am just a pathetic wimp when it comes to the trees. I pull in a deep breath and move back toward the trail.
Again my eyes catch movement. Who is out here? My heart sprints, reacting to something that I may or may not have seen. “Hello?” Well, that was stupid.
I squint into the trees again and see nothing, but if I start thinking this forest has eyes, I’ll be afraid to leave the house. That’s enough to get me back on the path.
My heart slows as the warm sun hits my shoulders. I walk past the boathouse and out to the end of the dock to throw my banana peel in the water. The Michaels’ boat sits to my right, in all its enormous, white glory. But I didn’t come down here to think about them. The salty air fills my lungs and cleans me out. The ocean is calm and looks silky soft underneath the blue sky.
Okay. The forest is behind me. My imagination is running wild. And today is going to be a fabulous day.
I take the small path that leads to the strip of sand by the water.
“Hey, Micah.” Landon’s in a large hoodie and a pair of green cargo shorts. He’s wearing flip-flops, and his legs are stretched in front of him on the sand.
My heart stops. Then takes off. I should have known that on such a beautiful day there was no chance of being here alone. And here I am. No bra. Nice.
“So, are we talking now?” I ask. All I can see is how he saw my face. And then I remember the picture of him running toward me. Too bad I’m so far away in that vision, and can’t see myself better. I wish I could turn off the picture, just for now. Just so there’s a chance of acting normal around him. We’re apparently going to be friends so that should make it all easier, right? Maybe this is my shove into making friends.
I stand still, unsure if I want to continue forward or run back to the house. What kind of a freak will he think I am if I keep running away?
“I didn’t realize there ever was a time when we weren’t talking.” His face is unreadable.
I’m waiting for him to say something really assholish and disappear, or send me away—one of the two. I’m still half-tempted to just turn around. But the idea that maybe he’s almost done, and I can have some time alone is enough for me to not move. Or maybe I want the shove into friendship territory. Maybe I’m doing what Dad did, and moving forward.
“Landon, you’ve got to be kidding me. It’s not that we’re giving one another the silent treatment, it’s that we don’t talk. We just don’t.” I’m actually proud of myself for getting that all out. That means I can talk around Landon and the earth won’t end, or split apart or anything. This is okay. I think. For now.
“Maybe we should.” He shrugs. “I think you’re making a big deal out of something that isn’t.”
“Maybe.” I narrow my eyes, still watching him.
“Look, I’m bored. Just come sit with me for a sec, okay? My friends can be pricks, and I know Brigitte is bitchy sometimes, but they’re that way with everyone.”
Sit with him?
“I won’t bite. Look at you, you’re like afraid of me or something?” The way he’s looking at me makes me feel stupid. Like the idea of not wanting to sit next to someone is crazy.
Which it is. And I might be.
“No.” I step toward him and sit down, but not too close. “I’m not afraid of you.” I try to make a face that says, ‘you’re crazy for saying that’ but I am a little afraid. I’m afraid of my face and what it means from him. I’m afraid of him and Steven running toward me in the dark. I’m afraid of him mentio
ning Lacey.
“But you’re way over there, and I’m way over here.” He gestures to the obvious distance between us.
“What. Do you want me on your lap? Because it seems to me that you have an endless supply of girls to sit there.” Oh, that might be a little mean. I just don’t know how to talk to someone I might like—especially when I shouldn’t.
He laughs. “Well, now I know what you think of me.” He shifts his legs so his knees are up in front of him and rests his arms there. “Guess I’m not surprised. Spending time with Brigitte isn’t really good for me. She drinks too much.”
“Then why do you?” Especially after Lacey.
That same shadow of sadness or guilt passes over his face. I probably don’t want to know.
He ignores my question. “Relax a little, Micah. It’s like you don’t even try to get along with people. I mean, that’s fine, but don’t get all defensive just because I feel like being nice.”
I pull my legs up like him and rest my chin on my knees, hopefully showing him that I’m not going anywhere. And maybe also that I don’t mean to be defensive.
“So, you visited your dad, right?” He has a nice voice, kind eyes. Why do I notice?
“Yeah,” I answer.
“How did that go?”
“Jumping right in, aren’t you?” I scowl. It seems like a pretty personal question from someone I barely know.
“I’m trying to make friendly conversation and you’re making it impossible.” His voice is soft and even. He doesn’t seem bothered. “You’re quiet, but I get this feeling your thoughts are loud. So maybe it’s just that I want in on some of those loud thoughts.”
We stare at one another only I get the distinct impression that Landon’s a lot more relaxed about this than I am.
Fine. “My dad is easy to be around. So yeah, it was nice.” That’s safe enough.
“See? That wasn’t so hard and now here we are, having this nice conversation.” He smiles. I’m staring.
