by Holly Hook
When the bell rings, Cayden zips out of the room, leaving me and Noah behind. Olivia can't even catch up with him. He hasn't spoken to her all hour, either.
On the way to next period, I check the halls for Matthew, since he's hard to miss due to his size, but I don't see him anywhere. I pass two Chess Club guys on the Sophomore benches who talk about the whole thing.
"Yeah. I heard the new guy just beat the crap out of Matthew."
"But Matthew is twice anybody's size."
"Well, have you seen him?"
"Maybe he was too ashamed and went home."
That sounds ominous. Checking the halls between second and third period also tell me that Matthew's a no-show. He's always hanging out by the senior benches, near the school seal, and not seeing him there flirting with the girls is like having a hole in the side of the building. It's the same at lunch. Matthew doesn't sit at the jock table although Ted and the other three guys are there. But they don't talk much today or give the passing girls whistles.
Meanwhile, Cayden sits with his siblings, scarfing down his lunch.
And by then, I wonder if Cayden did something to the guy. Something not just humiliating, but bad. Matthew might be a jerk, but he doesn't deserve what the rumors say. They're just that: rumors.
Cayden's sister talks to him, animated and wagging her finger as if she's irritated with him. Maybe the Lowe family isn't happy about all the rumors flying and Cayden's feeling the heat.
And this time, I stay quiet.
In case he hears.
And that's hard, since Ellie, Noah, and Sarah ask me about the events of that morning.
"Cayden just pushed Matthew, and I broke away," I say.
"That's not what I heard," Ellie says. "I heard Matthew was bleeding afterwards."
"It's a rumor." If I tell myself enough, it might come true. "I bet Matthew was just humiliated. Did anyone actually see what happened? The parking lot was almost empty by that point."
And in final period, he's gone back to ignoring me. Anger builds throughout class and I can't focus on anything else. These mixed signals are driving me insane.
There's something odd about Cayden.
It's as if he's dangling a dark secret in front of me, daring me to bite.
And when the bell rings and he rises, determined to escape, I pursue him out to the parking lot. Cayden glances back at me—I'm not bothering to be covert now—and stops as I catch up with him on the grass. We stand near the picnic tables where it all went down this morning.
"Cayden," I say. "Before you run off into the woods, I need to know what happened this morning."
His eyes widen when I say that, but then Cayden shakes his head and clears his worry. Then his shoulders hike. "Nothing. And why do you think I'll disappear into the woods?"
"Because you look like you're going that way." What if he realizes I followed him yesterday?
Cayden backpedals. "I need to get home."
"Not before I get some honesty," I say.
His neck muscles tighten and stand out as his jaw works. Have I said something wrong?
"What happened with Matthew?" I ask.
"Is that what you're asking?"
"Yes."
"Okay." Cayden breathes out a sigh. Is it of relief? He drops his shoulders. "I told him to leave you alone."
"He hasn't been in school the rest of the day."
"That guy was disgusting," Cayden says. "The way he was talking to you—I had to scare him off."
"Matthew's always like that," I say. "He thinks he can get a rise out of his friends. What did you do to him?" I think back to Matthew's words that morning. What would he have said if Cayden had let him finish? Maybe there was something to Matthew. "I heard you beat him up bad."
"I gave him one more shove into the picnic table," Cayden says. "And I told him again to stay away from you. I didn't beat him to a pulp or anything. Don't believe all the scary stories."
"I don't. That's why I wanted to hear it from you." I study Cayden's face for a lie, but there's no trace of one. There is, however, something nervous. Is it the way he keeps checking the trees from the corner of his eye?
"So you scared him off," I say.
Cayden smiles. It's devilish. "Maybe."
"Or you humiliated him." I'm speaking for myself, trying to make the case work. Cayden's a normal guy. An odd guy, but a normal one.
"That could be it, too." He forces a smile.
"Hey. Are we ever going to do the tutoring you asked for? That was another thing I wanted to talk about."
Cayden furrows his brows as if thinking. "I've thought about it," he says. Silence drags out. "Maybe...maybe it's not safe. My family, you know. They're strict."
I hold back a scream of frustration. Instead, I make myself laugh.
"What's so funny?"
"You're more terrified of Algebra tutoring than pushing guys who are more muscular than you. Get over yourself. If you need help, you need help. Meet me at the store tomorrow. We'll get started on the first lesson while I'm on my shift."
"But—"
"We're meeting," I say, turning away before he can get a rebuttal in. "After what you did, I owe you one, and we're not going back on this."
I go to turn away, but not before I catch the surprise on Cayden's face—and the hint of a grin.
I should fear this wild boy. But his mystery pulls me in, and instead of fear, there's an urge to spend more time with this hermit. Tomorrow, we meet, and I won't take any excuse other than the end of the world.
Chapter Nine
For the first time in ages, I look so forward to my shift that time slows in class, even in the ones where Cayden continues to keep to himself or focus so much on his work that no one dares to interrupt him. When the final bell rings and I gather my books, Noah meets me outside class.
"It stinks you have to work tonight," he says.
"It's not so bad," I say.
"Are you looking forward to standing in the store for the next five hours?" he asks, eyes widening.
"Well, six."
"Six! I can always tell when you have work. You slump your shoulders and your eyebrows mash together in this strange way—"
I slap him on the arm. "Hey!"
There's no way I want Noah to think there's anything up yet. Besides, Cayden and I are just going to be studying. I've spent lots of hours in the store getting that done on my own. It won't be much different from those times. I'll just have a buddy. I know how he'll react if I tell him Cayden's meeting me there. Noah's a great friend, but he likes to keep me close.
"Well, I'll see you Monday," Noah says. He opens his arms for a hug.
I let him wrap me up. It's familiar. "See you Monday."
Cayden stands at the corner of the hall, watching us. Once I separate and Noah goes on his way, I give him a small wave that no one else in the hallway will notice. He's still coming, right?
Cayden nods and juts out his chin. I'm guessing that's his way of acknowledgement.
I head out to the parking lot and get in my car. Once in, I spot Cayden's sister walking beside him as they head across the green. As I watch, she flashes me a glare.
I freeze.
And Cayden shrugs at me as if trying to apologize.
The two stop, and the big blond guy walks out of the river of people and joins them. He shakes his head in disgust at Cayden right before the three of them climb into a beat-up SUV. Cayden gives me one last apologetic glance before he climbs in.
What a weird family. I start up my clunker and take off. If he keeps his word, I'll see Cayden in no time.
* * * * *
The door doesn't chime much that late afternoon, but I watch the clock on the wall as the minute hand climbs closer to four. Cayden never set a time and my mind goes back to his unfriendly siblings. And those are just his siblings. If his parents are the same way, and one of his siblings ratted him out, then he'll have a hard time coming to the store.
Or maybe not. He tried out for the play.
I'm grateful things are slow today, but also sad. Aunt May needs all the money she can get. I think back to her lawyer meeting she's told me nothing about. A part of me wishes more people would come in.
Five minutes after checking out Mrs. Flogerty with a big bag of groceries, the door chimes and I look up from the practice book I'm studying on the off chance I get a decent part in the play. My breath catches.
It's Cayden. He's alone, and he looks magnificent with the sun coming through the door and bringing out the highlights in his hair. Then he smiles at me. Waves of heat pulse through my body. Standing there in his baggy jeans and form-fitting T-shirt, he looks perfect in every way. There's no trace of the odd growl I heard earlier. I must have imagined the sound.
"Hey," I say, struggling for words. "So, you needed help on some Algebra stuff?" How can I focus? He's just so hot and amazing and capable of pushing two hundred pound jerk guys into picnic tables.
"Sure," he says with a nod, stepping up to the counter. "Is it okay if I sit back here?"
"There's three stools back here," I say. "Leonora sits in the paisley one but she's not here. I can take that if you'd prefer the black one."
"A seat will not threaten my masculinity," Cayden says, walking behind me and sitting on the paisley stool.
He's right. After the display yesterday, there's no need to compensate for anything. That thought fills my mind as I pull out my book—Algebra, right?—and turn to the chapter we're working on. "Now, what questions did you have?"
"The Quadratic Formula," he says. "There are too many steps."
"We covered that before you arrived," I say.
"But aren't we going to do a test on it soon?" Cayden lifts one eyebrow at me. Without his siblings around, he's a different person. Liberated. It makes me wonder if he leads a double life.
The thought sends a thrilling shiver down my spine.
"Good point," I say, though I get the sense he's scrambling. "We'll go over it. It'll be on the exam."
He scoots within inches of me. Tingles explode and race over my skin. Cayden carries a faint woodsy scent that makes me dizzy.
I spend several minutes drawing out the formulas and solutions on notebook paper as Cayden watches me. He nods at last at my pencil markings. "I think I understand now," he says. "Thanks, Brie. I, um, have questions on these fraction problems, too, that Mr. Olgar went over this afternoon."
"Sure thing." I turn the pages in the volume. "Oh. Those. I'm rusty on fractions—"
"Aren't we all?" he asks with a smile.
My body weakens and I grab onto the counter to avoid falling off the stool. I feel like a swooning Victorian lady. Get it together, Brie.
"I suppose."
Cayden eyes my pendant. "Hey. What's that?"
"A family heirloom," I say, holding up my silver sword and chain. It belonged to my father before he and my mom died in a car accident."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," I say. "I was four. My Aunt May lives with me now."
"You don't sound like it's okay." Cayden's gaze goes soft.
"What else does it have to be?" I ask. It's okay is my go-to line. I've used it as a crutch and a shield for my entire life, because talking about how not alright it all is makes me sad. When I use the phrase, people nod and turn the conversation to something else, anything else, and I don't have to drown. "We run this store together. She says our pendants are our family tradition."
"So, been in Breckenridge all your life?"
That's easier. "My family's been here for generations. Well, that's what my Aunt May says."
"You don't know much about them?" His hazel eyes remain tender. This hermit is inviting me to crack my lifelong dam and release the pressure. Water spills out as the opening grows. What's wrong with me? I never let it break.
"I...I guess I don't," I blurt. Crack. "My family's stuff is up in the attic but I've never gone up there. Just thinking about them being gone, well, it sucks. It's easier to pretend I never had parents." I can remember them a little from my earliest years. Just blurry faces and vague feelings of warmth.
What am I doing? I've never even said these words to Noah or admitted them out loud to myself. Now tremors race through my body. But I breathe out and straighten. A mountain has risen off my shoulders and for once, no wall stands between me and the rest of the world. I can breathe.
"Wow," Cayden says. "I'm sorry. That has to be awful. It's no wonder you don't want to talk about it."
"It's okay," I repeat. "Telling someone this, I mean. It feels good."
"Get it out." Cayden inches a bit closer, almost like he wants to hug me from the side, but he holds back. "You know, I think we live down the road from each other."
"My aunt said there was a new family on Pine Street."
Cayden nods. He's stoic now. "I've seen you walking past my house, so I figured you must be close."
"Are you sure you're not a stalker?" Wow. I'm not the one who should ask that question.
"Last time I checked, no, I'm not." Then he looks at his paper and back. His eyes shine with nerves again.
"So, what does your family do? Time to tell me. Fair's fair."
Cayden swallows. "My parents run on online business. They work from home."
"So that's why I haven't seen them."
"Our house is tucked way back in the woods. It's the log one near the end of the road. You walk past it every day."
"I know which one you mean." There's a swing bench out front and a decorative, overturned bucket. The lawn never gets mowed and where there aren't tall weeds, pine needles cover the ground. It's the type of place a hermit would inhabit and perfect for a family like Cayden's. During Halloween, none of us kids ever wanted to walk up to the house.
I almost jump from my chair. There's something wild in his eyes again as his gaze locks on me. "I'm surprised your boyfriend doesn't walk you home."
I lift my eyebrows in confusion. "Boyfriend?"
"The guy you're always with."
"Oh. That's Noah. He's in love with that girl who's been following you around. Olivia. I don't know what he sees in her, but trust me, he's not my boyfriend."
"The two of you hug all the time."
"That's a BFF hug."
"Oh." Cayden drops his shoulders and lets out a breath. The wild look in his eyes vanishes.
Is he relieved, or is it my imagination?
Our gazes meet. Intensity grows and silence stretches. But then Cayden rises and grabs his notebook. "Thanks for the help," he says. "I have to go."
"But we only went over one formula. And I thought you needed help on those fraction problems?" I try not to let the disappointment flow into my words, but it's no use.
"I usually maintain an A in Algebra," he says, turning away. "Wanted to review just a couple of things."
"Wait. Let me walk you to the door." Will Cayden ever stop being like this? He's playing a game and I'm tiring of it.
The door chimes and Ed Hock walks in with his golden retriever, Lacy, on a leash. The old man comes in with his dog all the time. Both of them stop when they see Cayden standing there. Lacy's friendly pant stops as the dog closes her mouth and stares at Cayden. I wait for her to put her front paws on him in greeting as she does with everyone on the planet, but instead, she surveys Cayden as if he's about to hit her and backs away.
And then she growls.
"Lacy," Ed says. "What's wrong, girl?" He looks at Cayden and then me. "She's never like this."
I wait for Cayden to stand aside or, more in his fashion, walk off while saying nothing. But instead, he stares Lacy down as her hackles rise and another growl comes from deep in her throat.
"Lacy!" Ed says, pulling on her leash.
Cayden eyes the door, but she's blocking his way. He steps forward, pulls his lips back, bares his teeth, and locks his gaze with the dog. His eyes give off a wild shimmer. After a staring contest, the dog lies down on the floor as if submitting. A whimper comes from her throat.
Ed la
ughs. "She must have an off day."
My mouth falls open.
Cayden reminds me of something I've seen. There's something in his stance, in the way his shoulders rise, in the way that he stares down the harmless Golden now on the floor. And his highlights—
Are just like the wolf's.
"Cayden?" I ask.
He faces me. A flash of fear comes over his face as if he can read my thoughts.
"Bye," he says, darting out the door and bolting down the street.
Chapter Ten
"So that woman this morning wouldn't stop her two-year-old from running around, throwing fruit down on the floor of the Grocery," Aunt May says as she slips through channels. "I told her to leave, and you wouldn't believe the look she gave me. She said it's hard being a parent and that I wouldn't understand. I told her I've met lots of parents who keep their kids behaving in my store."
I'm trying to listen, but a ball of tension has formed in my gut. Shifting on the couch, I nod.
"So she left. I shook my head when she tried to ring up her order, and I told her no, that she'd need to go somewhere else. And then she abandoned all her groceries on the counter for me to put back. But at least she departed with that monster in tow."
The word monster hangs. Something about it worms its way through my chest and into my throat. "Aunt May, you remember when you used to tell me stories about not going in the woods?"
"That was years ago. And it kept you out of the woods."
I blurt it out. "Are there wolves in there?"
Aunt May pauses and then laughs as if I've asked something ridiculous. "No," she says.
"Or...or werewolves?" I put on a dramatic expression meant for the stage and rise from the couch, turning my fingers down to look like claws.
Aunt May's jaw falls open, but then she snaps it shut and laughs. She's used to my acts, but I've never gotten a reaction like this before.
"Legends, Brie. Just legends made up to keep the kids in line. Isn't that the purpose they all serve?" She leaves no room for an argument at the end of that line.
A sense of stupidity fills me as all the blood drains from my face. "Hey. I'm just practicing for Beauty and the Beast. Forgive me."
