Haunted Page 22

Rae nods.

  ***

  “What is this place?” Rae asks.

  I glance over at her as she takes in the surroundings: the pathway stretching into the trees, which seems to overhang the trail; the snow covered tops of the pines that spill crystals of white with each wayward breeze; and the frozen lake in the distance, tinged with ice, patches of brown, and canopied by a bright blue sky above. Amidst all the beauty of this place, I cannot take my eyes away from Rae’s face. She looks over at me, and my heart leaps. It’s hard to believe Rae died of an illness. She looks so vibrant and alive, her cheeks pinked by the chill of the wind. Her dark hair stands in contrast to the winter scene that surrounds us.

  “The bird sanctuary.”

  Without a second thought, I take her hand in mine and simply hold it. Her breath catches in her throat, and I hope she feels the same way I do.

  “Jeremy…”

  I know she’s ready to make all kinds of excuses, but I don’t want her to.

  Still holding her hand, I trail my other hand to her hair, tucking it behind her ear like she did the other day. The image of it burned into my mind. My fingers find their way to her cheek, almost trembling against her skin, the desire to touch her so strong. I can feel the pulse of her there. I know it’s not my imagination. It can’t be. I close my eyes and feel the heat of her, the connection. I take a deep breath into my lungs and exhale, then open my eyes. She’s still there, looking at me, her lips parted, anticipation in her eyes. I touch my thumb to her lower lip and slide it over the flesh. Her long lashes blink for a moment, then her stare returns to me, heated and wanting. I lean in, move my thumb aside, and put my mouth against hers, lingering there. She presses into me with need, and soon my tongue parts her mouth and we’re entangled in each other’s arms, her hands in my hair, my fingers coaxing moans from her as if strumming the bridge of a guitar. Our kiss become more forceful, and I don’t know how far this will go. I think to myself, does it even matter?

  Then I catch a flash of red in my peripheral vision. I pull away before she does, her lips not wanting to let go. But we stop, and I spot the summer tanager perched in the highest branches of the stripped aspen. It almost looks at me, knowingly. It emits a pi-tuck. Rae’s vision follows my own and lands on the bird stationed above us. She glances at me, mussed with the residual aftermath of our passion.

  “What does it want?”

  As if the bird hears her, it immediately takes flight against the cobalt blue sky and is soon out of sight.

  “I think it’s time to say goodbye,” I tell her.

  Hailey

  I wait inside the supermarket for the others to arrive. The doors slide open and closed as shoppers come and go. A brisk breeze sweeps the floor and rushes up the sleeves of my jacket and curls around the calves of my legs. I look out onto a cold and blustery scene. A perfect day for staying inside with a cup of tea, nestled near the fire.

  Stella decided to ride with Nate to work out their problems, so my dad dropped me off in town where we’d all drive to Purgatory from there. Frankly, I prefer to be separate from Nate for as long as possible. He still hates me. And, honestly, I don’t like him very much either.

  The green tea I hold warms my hands. I comb the parking lot for any sign of Stella’s car. I check my watch. 8:32 am. Only two minutes late, but I grow antsy with each passing minute. I’m nervous to go. I haven’t skied since I was young—too afraid of breaking some bone and messing up my entire dancing career. Anymore, it no longer matters. That was all in my past. Dr. Wheeler keeps insisting I try new things, so here I am.

  From the far reaches of the lot, I spy Eli hunched within the folds of his coat. He’s alone. As he approaches the door, he picks up his pace and jogs toward the building. Inside, he seems to shake off the cold and take in his surroundings. That’s when he sees me. “Hey,” is all he says.

  “Hey.” I look out the window in search of Stella and Nate. “Is Stella on her way?” I ask.

  “You didn’t get the message?” Eli asks, reaching into a pocket for his cell phone. “Stella and Nate aren’t coming.”

  “What?” I dig in my purse and fish out my own phone. Two missed messages. I type in my password.

  “They got in a fight.”

  We both know what that means. Over another girl. Over his cheating.

  Stella’s message confirms what Eli has told me. The second one is from Eli. I listen to the sound of his remote voice as I look into his live-and-in-person face while he waits patiently for me to finish. His message conveys the news, as well. His voice tells me we can cancel the whole thing, no hard feelings. But here he is because I didn’t hear my phone ring or even bother to check it. Because he’s nice.

  “We can still cancel,” Eli says.

  I debate. It will be awkward to be alone. All day. With Eli. This was supposed to be a group outing, not a one-on-one thing. Not a date.

  “I mean, it’s not like we bought the tickets or anything,” Eli continues, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep them from dancing around. “Let me just grab a coffee, and I can take you home.”

  I grab hold of his coat sleeve to stop him. “No,” I say, “let’s go skiing.”

  “You sure?” he asks, staring down at my hand still resting on his arm. I quickly remove it.

  “Yeah.”

  So Eli gets a coffee and has the barista top off my tea, and we head to the ski resort.

  Hailey

  “See that guy down there?” Eli points to the ski slopes below from the chairlift. “From Texas.”

  I look down. “What? How can you tell?” I ask.

  “Can’t ski. They rarely can.” We both watch him struggle on the hill. “See,” Eli continues,” he just did the splits.”

  I laugh. “Well, you’re going to think I’m from Texas when we get off this lift.”

  “No way.”

  “Oh, just wait,” I jest.

  He looks over at me. “You don’t have the accent or the ten-gallon hat.”

  “Well, he definitely skis better than I do,” I say. “I can absolutely guarantee that.”

  “I’ll help you,” Eli says tenderly, accidentally resting a gloved hand on my own. When he realizes his mistake, he pulls back. Though we had a hot and intense moment in the practice room at school, we’re both working hard to ignore it.

  When we approach the top of the mountain, my stomach twists madly with nerves. I’m afraid of falling in front of Eli and making a complete fool of myself. I mean, what if the chair biffs me in the back of the head? What if they have to stop the lift to save me? I can feel my face already start to redden.

  But when it’s our time to get off, Eli guides me off, and I awkwardly make my way to the side of the hill.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he says.

  “We haven’t even started,” I say, staring down the white and snow-packed terrain. “You don’t know what you’ve signed yourself up for by agreeing to ski with me.”

  “Oh, I have a pretty good idea,” he says with a sudden intensity. I turn my view from his face to the mountain. “Ready?” he asks.

  I simply shrug, and we’re off. He skis ahead, stopping off to the side to wait for me. For a long while, all I do is the pizza I learned back in early elementary school. I feel about six years old right now, but I manage to slide over to him.

  “Woman right there?” he says, pointing covertly with his ski pole. I look. “Texas.”

  “She seems to be skiing all right to me.”

  “Pink jacket. Pink ski pants. Definitely Texas.”

  I roll my eyes. Then the woman falls, and we both laugh.

  We continue to make our way down the mountain. The brisk breeze of winter rushes over my face and whips my braid behind me. I’m slow, but Eli doesn’t seem to mind.

  “Need a break?” he asks at our next stop.

  “No.” I feel daring. “Let’s keep going.”

  We see a group of thirty-somethings on snowboards. A few of them wipe out just down
the way from us. Eli and I glance at each other. “Texas,” we say in unison and laugh.

  It’s hard to believe, but I’m actually having a blast. I didn’t think I would. Things have been so hot and cold between us. We’ve both worked hard to tamp down the chemistry that’s so evidently there.

  Right now, I’m grateful Stella and Nate didn’t show up. Not that I want them to fight, but the synergy between Eli and I would be different, I’m sure.

  We’re midway down, and I feel more confident. My pizzas lessen, and I attempt some turns across the mountain. Eli shooshes back and forth and waits for me to catch up. He’s such a smooth skier, almost like a dancer on snow. But I shove those thoughts away. I don’t want to think about my past or dancing or Jeremy today. I’m having too nice a time to delve into sadness and memories. I put them away for another day.

  I don’t know if it’s my loss of concentration or my temporary dip into sadness, but I lose control of my speed. I rush down the hill, forgetting how to slow down. Terror overtakes me. What if I hit a tree? Or somebody? Eli is just below me, but I don’t remember how to swerve to avoid him. At the last moment, I attempt to make a pizza and carve my skis into the snow, but it’s too late. I crash right into him. He falls onto his back, and I land on top of him.

  “Eli, are you all right?” I panic. I’m afraid I’ve knocked the wind out of him or given him a concussion or something. But he opens his eyes, a bit stunned.

  “Didn’t see that coming,” he says.

  “God, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

  “Fine,” he says, studying my face, taking in my eyes. “If you wanted me on my back, all you had to do was ask.” He’s half-joking, but I can tell there’s a hint of something else there.

  I’m still on top of Eli. “I’m not sure how to…” I glance around at the trees towering around us with draperies of snow and hear the gales of wind through the pines. We’re totally alone in this vast land of trees and snow. “…get out of this.”

  “Hey, Texas?” Eli says to recapture my attention.

  “I’m not from…”

  But I can’t finish my sentence. When I look in his eyes, my heart totally races. His concentration is fully on me, and we’re completely unaware of our surroundings, the fall, and the fact that our skis are laced together in odd ways. Our attention is fully on each other.

  I start to complete my own sentence, but Eli pulls me to him. “So, Texas?” he asks. “How did Hamlet show Ophelia his love?” Eli asks.

  “Um…” is all I can say since I feel completely frazzled.

  Eli lifts my goggles up and stares into my eyes. He touches the side of my face, then his eyes shift to my mouth and he pulls me tightly to him.

  “Maybe like this?” Eli puts his mouth against mine and parts my lips with his tongue.

  I feel the catch of breath in his throat as he kisses me. I close my eyes, taking in every nuance of his mouth. The kiss is even better than I imagined, sending shivers through my entire body that have nothing to do with the cold. I want to stay this way forever, lip-locked and in Eli’s embrace. There’s urgency and passion between us that could melt snow, but Eli pulls back and really looks at me.

  “Wow,” is all he says. “Just…wow.”

  “I don’t remember that in Shakespeare,” I confess as I reel from the after-effects of the kiss.

  “Me either. I guess we’d better get up before they send mountain rescue after us,” Eli says, lifting himself up on his elbows.

  “I guess.” I feel the heat of my own blush.

  “You’re cute,” Eli says, considering me. His eyes venture to my mouth again. “And that was hot,” he says.

  “Uh huh.”

  “I’ve wanted to do that from the moment I saw you in the library.”

  “You have?” I ask, naively.

  “Yeah.” He cups my cheek in his hand. “It was worth the wait.”

  I nod because it so totally was.

  I try to wiggle my way out of our tangle. Eli helps me by straightening my skis. He lifts himself from the ground, then helps me up. “So you didn’t answer my question,” he says.

  What question? All I can think about is the kiss.

  He notices the puzzled look on my face. “Hamlet?” he says, jogging my memory.

  “Right. Um…let’s just say, I’m right and you’re wrong.” And I take off ahead of him. He sees this as a challenge. “Ah, I see you’re ready to head down. I’ll race ya!” And he takes off, completely reenergized.

  I am ready to ski down, but all I’m feeling right now is totally up.

  Eli

  I sit at the kitchen table in complete la-la land as I gaze off into the nothingness of the cabinets, replaying the hot kiss with Hailey. My hands linger on the incomplete song in front of me and the application behind it. I know there’s music to write, decisions to make, and things to do. But, in all honesty, I just want to relive the moment with her. I am totally gone over her.

  The garage door opens and I snap out of my reverie. Conner’s voice precedes him into the room. “…want to stay at Reagan’s house.”

  “You can go another time, buddy. Right now we have…hey, Eli. I didn’t see your bike outside. Didn’t know you were here,” my mom says.

  “Eli.” Conner is suddenly standing in front of me. “Mom says no more Reagan’s today.”

  “So I heard,” I respond, half out of it.

  “Everything okay?” my mom asks as she unloads a bag of groceries. Normally, I would jump up to help, but my mind isn’t in the kitchen.

  She studies me as boxes of mac and cheese, a sack of potatoes, and a pound of ground beef make their way to the counter as if by themselves.

  Conner roots around in the refrigerator for his afternoon snack.

  “Yeah,” I say, attempting to pull myself back to the present. “Fine.”

  My mom meanders over to the table and glances at the paperwork in front of me. She spies something of interest and picks up a page, reading it. Her eyes widen toward me as we both simultaneously realize what she has in her hand.

  “Berklee?” she says more than asks. “You’re applying.” Her voice has that totally stunned sound to it. “Is this why you’re so out of it?” she asks, holding the packet out to me. “I know college applications can be daunting. Want some help?”

  Conner sits down at the seat across from me and delves into the large bowl of Jell-O. My mom doesn’t even notice.

  “No, it’s okay,” I say. My tone of voice clearly does not evoke my enthusiasm.

  Her brow furls. “Okay, am I missing something here?”

  “Yeah,” I nod toward Conner who’s consuming an entire bowl of gelatin in one sitting. “Your son seems to be in ecstasy over there.”

  “Conner!” she reprimands, taking the bowl away from him and turning back to me.”

  “And my other son?”

  I’m in ecstasy, all right. Just over the wrong things.

  “A girl?” My mom’s voice teeters on the edge of disapproval.

  I promised myself I wouldn’t let another girl come between me and my music. And now…here I am.

  “Who is she, Eli?” my mom asks. But I don’t answer, so she continues. “Is she worth sacrificing a chance at Berklee?”

  “I’m not sacrificing any chances. I haven’t even applied yet.”

  She exhales. “You will apply, though?” Her expression is a question mark looking for a specific answer.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I think so.”

  “Elias,” she says, scolding. She takes in a huge breath of air and holds it.

  Conner tries to nab the Jell-O back, but my mom is unrelenting. “Just little more.”

  “Tell me it’s not Madeline.”

  “It’s not Madeline,” I say firmly.

  She lets out the breath she was holding because I’ve just confirmed her suspicions: there is a girl. And what a girl she is. A smile creeps across the corners of my mouth.

  “Oh God,” she says. “You’re sm
itten.”

  “Smitten?”

  “Like a kitten,” she smiles.

  “Jell-O, mom,” Conner pleads. Finally my mom relents. I expect she’ll do the same with me.

  “Just be sure, Eli. Be one hundred fifty percent sure. I don’t want you to get hurt again. And Berklee—your music—they’re way too important.”

  “I know.”

  I don’t know exactly what I’ll do—if there’s even any type of future for Hailey and me at all. But what I do know is I have a song to finish.

  Eli

  I spend Study Hall in the library, tucked away in a far corner. I need to crack down and get the Hamlet paper done. Despite the turn things have taken with me and Hailey, we still haven’t come together to do the on-again/off-again team project. I have Shakespeare and literary analysis books strewn around me, my head tipped into one of the pages, when suddenly I’m not alone. And the intrusion isn’t a welcome one.

  “What do you want?” I snap. I so don’t need the distraction of Madeline right now.

  “You’re one hard-to-find guy. You know that?”

  “Apparently not hard enough,” I mutter to myself.

  Madeline hears, but chooses to ignore me. She slides into the seat across the table from me. “I really need to talk to you about the baby thing,” she leans forward and whispers.

  I sigh. Deeply.

  “Listen,” she says, her hand creeping across the table toward mine. Instead of meeting her eyes, I keep a careful watch on it. “I am sorry. How can I make you believe me? What do I need to do?”

  “Why the sudden turn around, Madeline? Huh? I mean, you must know why I doubt your sincerity,” I seethe.

  She takes her hand back, lowers her eyes. I swear, it looks like she’s going to cry. I don’t handle tears well. Even from Madeline.

  “Oh god,” I say. “Don’t cry.” My voice and attitude have softened. I lean in toward her to prevent a full-on outburst in the middle of a quiet, high school library.

  “People make mistakes, Eli. I made mistakes. First, for blaming you…” She looks around at the bookshelves to fill in the blanks about the abortion. She hesitates before continuing, “Then for losing you. I mean,” she flounders, “I guess the two go hand-in-hand.”