Just Between You and Me

by Jenny B. Jones

  Connor studies me like one of his lab samples under a microscope. Seconds pass before he speaks. His hand flexes over mine. “It sure must get old.”

  I watch the flecks in his eyes, how the light plays with the color. “What?”

  “Hiding from everything like you do.”

  With the charge of a cattle prod, I’m snapped back to reality. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  There’s that lazy smile again. Makes me want to tear it off his pretty little nerd face. “You’re forgetting I was there. I walked in on your conversation with Allison.”

  I lift my chin. “Some of us stopped eavesdropping in junior high.”

  His sly charm slides from his face. Steel replaces it. “I’m not the enemy here, Maggie. I want to help your sister, but sometimes it’s hard to know where the truth ends and the lies begin.”

  “The lies begin with her.” My voice echoes in the sterile hall. “But I’m not going to stand here and try to explain myself to you. If you have information, Connor, then pass it on. If you hear from my sister, have the courtesy to let us know. But otherwise, you and I have nothing to say to one another about this topic.” I twist my hand beneath his and walk out the door.

  Chapter Eighteen

  My hands roam over the keyboard as I edit footage of a young girl from Ghana. Her story would be the perfect contrast to the boy solider who secretly let me interview him in Darfur. I scribble some notes on a legal pad and stick my pen back into the messy bun on top of my head.

  It’s two hours later when the front door shuts, and I notice the time.

  Rolling the tension out of my shoulders, I close my laptop and barely miss getting mowed down by my niece on the stairs.

  “Kinda late getting home from school. Did you stop and see the dog?”

  “Yeah.” Riley sidesteps me and walks to her bedroom with enough force to give the foundation a shake.

  I look to my dad for an explanation, but all he does is grunt and hand me a note. He and I have hardly spoken since our last big blowup. He pretends to be polite in front of Riley, but as soon as she’s out of earshot, it’s the total cold shoulder. Nothing like feeling sixteen again. And not in a low body fat, eat all you want, giggle all day, and dream of Brad Pitt sort of way.

  Opening the paper, the Ivy Elementary School letterhead greets me. As does a blow-by-blow of Riley’s escapades at school today, including throwing glue at two girls during art and “accidentally” nailing these same girls with a kickball during P.E. At the bottom is the neat and efficient signature of the principal, Danielle Chapel. With her letters perfectly spaced and evenly looped, even her signature is snotty.

  “She had a bad day today.” I fold up the note. “She’s clearly acting out after yesterday’s upsetting news.”

  “I talked to her a little bit, but you know I’m not good at that stuff.”

  “What did you say?” My voice rises as high as a Justin Timberlake solo.

  “I didn’t yell at her,” he growls. “So quit looking at me like I beat her with a switch. I never laid a hand on you girls.”

  Didn’t have to. “What did you tell Riley?”

  “Not much. I’m the grandpa. I’ve raised my kids. I’m supposed to be the one who hands her quarters for the gumball machine and gets her exactly what she wants for Christmas.”

  Since the man totally detonated all his parenting attempts, his take on being a grandpa has me sticking a finger in my ear to make sure it’s all clear, and I heard that right. “With Allison gone, you are the parent.”

  Dad pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just talk to the girl, would you? She needs a female in her life, and you’re the closest one.”

  “Your inspirational words are making me all misty-eyed.”

  Dad points a finger toward the stairs. “Go talk to your niece. I’ll fix dinner.”

  I knock on Riley’s door and find her flipping through an old JCPenney catalog. “Gonna do some shopping?”

  “It wasn’t my fault.”

  The bed sinks as I sit down beside her. “Tell me what happened.”

  “They were picking on Sarah. Again. But she won’t ever stand up for herself. And those girls have her so scared she always denies it when the teacher comes.”

  “And no one else ever sees this?”

  “They’re good.”

  I pull Riley’s hair out of her face and try to think of something motherly and wise. “At least you didn’t depants anyone.”

  She lifts her head. “What’s that?”

  “Nothing,” I say quickly. “Riley, maybe you should let Sarah take up for herself. Because all this is accomplishing is getting you in trouble. A lot.”

  “They say stuff about her.” She lowers her voice. “And her mom.”

  I know that feeling. Lived with it for years. “You can be her friend without lobbing glue and kickballs.”

  “Never mind.” She snaps the catalog shut. “Just forget it.”

  “I know you’re upset about your mom, but—”

  “Just leave me alone.”

  Deciding to let it go, I kiss her on the top of the head, whether she wants me to or not. Reaching for a stack on the floor, I pull out a first grade–level story book and set it in front of my niece. “Ready to read?”

  She sighs and dumps her chin in her hand. “Okay. But this time, I’m turning the pages.”

  “I’m not a page hog.”

  “Yeah, you pretty much are.”

  That night I dream of the lake.

  My mother calls out to me. “Maggie, get help. Please . . .won’t you get help?”

  “I’m trying!” I yell back to her, my voice broken by sobs. “Please don’t leave me.”

  Allison appears by my side, her voice cruel and taunting. “You know what happened, Maggie. You were with her when she died, and then you left home. Taking your secrets. Maybe if you went in the water yourself you’d remember.”

  “No,” I cry. “Get away from me.”

  Allison steps closer. And closer, her arms extended.

  “No!”

  But I’m powerless to fight her. She pushes me toward the lake, and I teeter on the edge of the pier, my arms flailing for balance.

  “It’s time to remember,” Allison says. And with one final shove, I hit the water. And sink straight to the bottom. The water fills my lungs, my ears, my head. I open my mouth—My own gasp wakes me up.

  I sit up, clutching the sheet, sweat bonding my T-shirt to my back. My breath coming in gasps.

  The clock on my phone reads 2:00 a.m. Four more hours ’til daylight. And I couldn’t be more awake.

  I have to get out of here. Out of this bed. This house.

  The old restlessness gnawing at me, I punch a button on my phone and wait as it rings.

  “Hello?” comes a groggy voice.

  I take a deep breath and rest a hand over my pounding heart. “Meet me at the fountain on the square in ten minutes.”

  I hear the rustle of Connor Blake’s pillow. “Are you nuts?”

  “Given my genes, it’s almost a certainty. I’m feeling a little daredevilish. Are you in? Or is the math club president too scared?”

  “This better not be illegal. I prefer doing illegal stuff when I’ve had a full night’s sleep.”

  I laugh and throw on my running capris. “See you in ten. Oh, and bring a flashlight.”

  “If this is all part of your plot to kill me, you should know I have lots of friends in this town.” Connor shuts his truck door and zips up his light jacket.

  “Probably because you pay them.” I pat his chest. “Just like high school.”

  He grabs my hand and holds on. “I had plenty of friends, thanks. Just not the fast-moving crowd you were in.”

  I take back my hand and shove it in my windbreaker pocket. “The librarian doesn’t count.”

  He yawns and regards me with open curiosity. “Yesterday you couldn’t stand me. But now I’m your two a.m. phone call?”

  “I
felt the need to do something crazy, and you said at the dance studio that you were up for a dare. I just thought I would finally deliver.”

  He rubs his hands together in the early morning chill. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Boredom.”

  From his expression I see he doesn’t buy that for a second. But I don’t care. My skin itches for adrenaline. To be reckless. To challenge God or gravity, I don’t know which. But I want the thrill of tempting it all.

  An hour later, I stand shoulder to shoulder with Connor and question my brilliant idea.

  The flashlight illuminates his face and the narrow wall around us. “So how is it this cave’s been here forever, and I’m just now finding out about it?” he asks.

  Somewhere in the distance drops of water fall on the hard ground. “Legend has it, this cave is haunted.” I shine my light on the rock. “So my friends and I never got too far inside.”

  “It doesn’t make it any more appealing that you have to scale a mountain to get to it.”

  “That’s the fun of it.”

  “Not in the black of night.”

  He’s so close, I can feel his body radiate heat. I catch myself sniffing his air and turn my head. “You did pretty well. For a nerd.”

  “Bill Gates and I are not offended by that term.”

  I shine my light over our heads and look at the dark shadows above. Probably bats and who knows what else. I should be scared. But I’m not. Kind of numb. Until his finger intertwines with my pinky. I jump at the contact.

  “Want to tell me what this is about?”

  “Want to move your hand?”

  I hear that obnoxious smile. “I’m scared. Only thing keeping me from crying.” He continues staring straight ahead, making no eye contact. “Start talking.” He squeezes my finger. “My bed’s calling my name.”

  “Just woke up and wanted to cut loose a little . . . being in Ivy brings back the wild impulses I guess.”

  His laugh is quiet. “Words that would thrill most guy’s hearts. But I’ve had enough human psychology to know something’s spinning in your head. Watched you in the last week or so enough to understand this is just another diversion for you. Another coping tactic.”

  “Stick to the cows and dogs. Don’t analyze me.”

  “Want to tell me why you couldn’t sleep tonight?”

  “Thinking of all my boyfriends back home. I know I’m going to have to pick one soon, and I do so hate breaking hearts in multiples of ten.”

  I hear the slap of skin as he swats something on his leg. “This was the dumbest dare ever.”

  “I’m sorry it didn’t involve calculators. So tell me about your fiancée.”

  “Ex-fiancée,” he corrects. “Nothing much to say. She couldn’t handle the distance between us and eventually decided she couldn’t live in Ivy.”

  Two days before the wedding, I mentally add. “I’m sure that was a difficult time for you.”

  “Taught me a lot.” His voice echoes in the hollow of the cave. “I learned high-maintenance girls are a waste of my time. I want someone with simple values. Someone who’ll care about her home, her family, puts others first. Isn’t going to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Low on drama.”

  I bite back a laugh. “Good luck with that.”

  “Sweet-tempered. A nice kindergarten teacher maybe. Someone who likes kids. Teaches Sunday school.”

  “Don’t forget likes to hunt, fish, and watch NASCAR. Connor, this woman does not exist. God didn’t make perfect people.”

  “She’ll know how to make a mean apple pie too.”

  “To smash in your chauvinistic face?”

  He gives a lopsided grin. “I’m just saying the person I’m going to settle down with will be peaceful. Calm.”

  “An android.”

  We slip into a companionable silence as the flashlights are shone all around. The cave is filled with crunchy, scratchy, drippy noises, but after a few minutes, I call it for what it is. “Sadly there are no ghosts here. Just childish folklore.”

  “I think you have all the ghosts you can handle in your own house.”

  A chill sweeps over me that has nothing to do with the temperature of the cave. My dream comes back to my mind in vivid color and stereo sound. And in the dim of the cavernous space, with a man who’s practically a stranger, my tongue loosens up. “I had this dream.” I lick my lips and start over. “I have this dream.” I wait for Connor to throw out a witty barb, but he doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. Stares straight ahead at the wall in front. “I don’t know what my sister has told you, but I was with my mother the night she drowned. And I don’t remember what happened. A fisherman dove in and pulled me back to the pier where I passed out, and when I came to, my mother was gone.” They found her body the next day.

  Water plops near me and splashes on my calf. Connor’s whole hand envelopes mine. And like Riley accepting my quick kiss tonight, I let his hand remain.

  “Allison never forgave me. She’s always thought there was some big mystery to that night, but if there is, I don’t know what it is.”

  “And your dream?” comes his quiet voice.

  I shrug at the silliness of it all. “I don’t know. Same thing every time. We’re on Ivy Lake. My mom’s there, and she’s calling out to me. But I can’t get her.” My throat thickens. “I can’t ever get to her in time.”

  “Maybe that’s how it happened.”

  “Perhaps. But I don’t think so. It doesn’t feel right. It should fit in my mind like a missing puzzle piece.”

  “So this is why you’re afraid of water?”

  “I’m not afraid of it.”

  “It’s okay. I’m afraid of some things too.”

  “Like what?”

  “For starters, whatever’s crawling up my leg right now.”

  “We should go.” I smile in the dark. “Before the vipers wake up.”

  I pull away from the wall and take a step toward the gaping entrance.

  “Maggie?”

  I stop and turn around. “Yeah?”

  “I’ve been praying for you. And your sister.”

  “Thanks.” I stare at the ground, uncertain what to do with this. “Allison told you a bunch of bad stuff about me, didn’t she?”

  “You were pretty much right up there with terrorists and mimes.”

  “And now?” The question floats off my tongue before I can edit my thoughts.

  “You’ve totally changed my mind.”

  “Oh. Well, good.”

  “Now you’re only up there with telemarketers and the bowling channel.”

  I give him the instant view of my perfectly straight spine and lead us out of the cave. We stand at the top of Piney Hill, the tallest point in Ivy. All the town is blanketed in dark as it sleeps. Like normal people do.

  “So how do we know who won this challenge?” Connor stands beside me, his arm brushing mine. “I think I do. You got me up at two, and I met the dare.”

  “You are such a whiner. No wonder you didn’t play football.” I shine my light straight down the rocky path. “Now that you know the terrain, we race. Whoever reaches the bottom first without breaking a limb wins.”

  “Is this honestly the best you could do?” His smile is tight. “I mean, seriously?”

  I throw up my hands. “It’s not like I have a lot to work with in this town.”

  Connor’s eyes find mine. “Or at two a.m.?”

  “Ready? Should I give you a head start since you and your type are not known for athletic prowess?”

  His expression turns cat-that-ate-the-canary. “See you at the bottom. Where I’ll claim the victory.”

  I return his smile. “Go.” And I shoot off down the hill, my muscles remembering some of the hidden nooks and crannies.

  I hear him behind me the whole way, his feet sending rocks flying all around the path. An eternity passes, and I see the end in sight, my flashlight trained on the uneven ground. Not much further. And I’m winning! I can sm
ell the victory.

  Out of the corner of my eyes comes a flash of movement, and Connor shoots past me. No! His long legs take two strides for my every one, and like an unwatched eBay auction, I see the prize slipping away in the final seconds. There’s only one thing a self-respecting girl can do.

  “Ow!” I drop to the ground. “Oh . . . oh no.”

  Connor jerks his body to a stop, grabbing on to a large rock for balance. “Maggie?” He’s by my side in two leaps. His hands are on my shoulders. On my legs. Then my ankle. “What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?”

  “I think I twisted my ankle. It’s okay. You go ahead.”

  His fingers are a light caress on my ankle, and I close my eyes at the touch. A single girl will take what she can get.

  He presses on one spot. “Does this hurt?”

  “Just a bit. I’m okay. Really.” I start to rise and come back down with a gasp. “Maybe you could look right here.” I touch a spot on the bone above my shoe.

  He angles his flashlight and leans in.

  And I shoot up. “See you at the finish line!” Laughing, I hustle the rest of the way, my hands outstretched for balance. Smelling the sweet scent of a win once again.

  Level ground is in sight. The grassy end looms before me. Mere steps away.

  And suddenly I’m being lifted high in the air. I give a squeal and kick out my legs. “Put me down!”

  Connor laughs and keeps running.

  “No fair!” I try to wiggle out of his arms, but he holds me with his iron grip.

  “Don’t even talk to me about fairness,” he says on a winded breath. “How can you look yourself in the mirror?”

  Just as he steps away from the end, he sets me on my feet, none-to-gently, then takes the victory jump onto level ground.

  I stand there and watch him watching me. I shine my flashlight near his face and see squinting, gloating eyes. “You rat.”

  “Do you need a moment to pull yourself together?” He tugs on his shirt. “Need my sleeve to dry your tears? Your loser tears?”

  I stomp forward and punch my fingers in his chest. “I was winning the entire time.”

  “Whatever. I stayed behind on purpose in case you fell.”