Monday, March 4, 2013

Beautiful Darkness - Chapter 9



The Lake
If it wasn't Ridley, why weren't your tires slashed?” I pushed again. What happened in the parking lot didn't make sense, and I couldn't stop thinking
about it. Or the motorcycle. Why did I recognize it?
Lena ignored me, looking out at the water. “It's probably a coincidence.” Neither of us believed in coincidences.
“Yeah?” I grabbed a handful of sand, brown and gritty. Except for Link, we had the lake to ourselves. Everyone else was probably lined up at the
BP trying to buy new tires before Ed ran out.
In another town, you might have put your shoes back on and called the sand dirt and this part of our lake a swamp, but the murky water of Lake
Moultrie was the closest thing Gatlin had to a swimming pool. Everyone hung out on the northern shore because it was on the edge of the woods
and a hike from the cars, so you never ran into anyone who wasn't in high school — especially not your parents.
I didn't know why we were here. It was weird to have the lake to ourselves, since the whole school had planned to be here today. I hadn't
believed Lena when she told me she wanted to come. But she did, and we had, and now Link was thrashing around in the water, and we were
sharing a dirty towel Link had grabbed out of the back of the Beater before we left.
Lena turned over next to me. For a minute, it seemed like everything was back to normal and she wanted to be there on my towel. But that only
lasted until the silence set in. I could see her pale skin glistening under the thin white undershirt, which was sticking to her in the suffocating heat and
humidity of a June South Carolina day. The sound of the cicadas chirping almost drowned out the awkward silence. Almost. Lena's black skirt was
riding low on her hips. I wished we had our bathing suits for the hundredth time. I'd never seen Lena in one. I tried not to think about it.
Did you forget I can hear you?
I raised an eyebrow. There she was again. Back in my mind, twice in one day, as if she'd never left. One minute she was barely speaking to me,
and the next she acted like nothing had changed between us at all. I knew we should talk about it, but I didn't want to fight anymore.
Not like there'd be anything forgettable about you in a bikini, L.
She leaned closer, pulling my faded shirt over my head. I could feel a few stray curls of her hair brushing against my shoulders. She slid her arm
around my neck and pulled me closer. Face to face, I could see the sun glinting gold in her eyes. I didn't remember them looking so gold.
She tossed my shirt in my face and took off running for the water, laughing like a little kid as she jumped into the lake, still wearing her clothes. I
hadn't seen her laugh or joke around in months. It was like I had her back for an afternoon, even if I didn't know why. I pushed it out of my mind and
chased her, running into the water and across the shallow edge of the lake.
“Stop it!” Lena splashed me, and I splashed her back. Her clothes were dripping, and my shorts were dripping, but it felt good to be out in the
sun. In the distance, Link was swimming out to the dock. We were really alone.
“L, wait up.” She smiled over her shoulder and dove under the water.
“You're not getting away that easy.” I grabbed her leg before it disappeared and yanked her toward me. She laughed and kicked, twisting until I
fell into the water next to her.
“I think I felt a fish,” she squealed.
I pulled her waist into mine. We were face to face, nothing but sun, and water, and the two of us. There was no avoiding each other now.
“I don't want you to leave. I want things to be like they were. Can't we go back, you know, to how it used to —”
Lena reached out and touched my lips with her hand. “Shh.” Warmth spread from the tip of her finger down across my shoulders and into my
body. I had almost forgotten that feeling, the heat and the electricity. She moved her hands down my arms and clenched them behind my back,
laying her head against my chest. It felt like steam was rising off my skin, prickling where she touched me. I hadn't been this close to her in weeks. I
inhaled deeply. Lemons and rosemary … and something else. Something different.
I love you, L.
I know.
Lena lifted her face to mine, and I kissed her. Within seconds, she disappeared into my arms, in a way she hadn't in months. The kiss began to
move us involuntarily, as if we were under some kind of Cast all our own. I picked her up and lifted her out of the water, her legs dangling over my
arms, the water pouring off us. I carried her back to the towel, and we were rolling in the dirty sand. Our warmth turned into fire. I knew we were out
of control, and we had to stop.
L.
Lena gasped under the weight of my body, and we rolled again. I tried to catch my breath. She threw her head back and laughed, and a chill ran
up my back. I remembered that laugh, straight out of my dream. It was Sarafine's laugh. Lena sounded exactly like her.
Lena.
Was I imagining it? Before I could make sense of it, she was on top of me and I couldn't think about anything else. I was lost in seconds, tangled
up in her. My chest tightened, and I felt my breath growing short. I knew if we didn't stop soon, I'd end up in the emergency room, or worse.
Lena!
I felt a searing pain cut through my lip. I pushed her off and rolled over, stunned. Lena slid away from me in the dirt, backing onto her heels. Her
eyes were glowing, gold and huge. Barely a trace of green. She was breathing hard. I doubled over, trying to catch my breath. Every raw nerve in
my body had been lit on fire, one match at a time. Lena raised her head, and I could hardly see her face through the wild mess of dirt and hair. Just
the strange golden glow.
“Get away from me.” She spoke slowly, as if each word was coming from a deep, untouchable place within her.
Link was out of the water, rubbing a towel on his spiky hair. He looked ridiculous in the same plastic goggles his mom made him wear when we
were little. “Did I miss somethin’?”
I touched my lip, wincing, and looked at my fingers. Blood.
Lena rose to her feet, backing away from us.
I could have killed you.
She turned and bolted into the trees.
“Lena!” I took off after her.
Running through the South Carolina woods barefoot is not something I recommend. We'd been in a drought, and the shoreline around the lake was
littered with dry cypress needles, which bit into my feet like a thousand tiny knives. But I kept running. I could hear Lena more than see her, as she
crashed through the trees in front of me.
Get away from me!
A heavy pine branch splintered and cracked without warning, smashing across the trail a few feet in front of me. I could already hear another
branch groaning ahead.
L, are you crazy?
Branches were falling around me, missing me by inches. Far enough away so they didn't hit me, but close enough to make a point.
Stop it!
Don't follow me, Ethan! Leave me alone!
As the gap between us widened, I sped up. Tree trunks and scrub brush flashed past me. Lena was swerving around the trees, not following
any distinct path. She was heading for the highway.
Another tree fell in front of me, catching horizontally on the trunks of the trees on either side of me. I was momentarily trapped. There was an
osprey nest upside down in the broken tree. Something Lena, in her right mind, would never have dreamed of hurting. I touched the twigs, checking
for broken eggs.
I heard the sound of a motorcycle, and my stomach caved in on itself. I shoved my way under the branches. My face was scratched and bloody,
but I made it out to the highway in time to see Lena climb on the back of a Harley.
What are you doing, L?
She looked back at me for a second. Then she disappeared down the highway, black hair flying behind her.
Getting away from here.
Her pale arms were clinging to the biker from the Jackson High parking lot, the tire slasher.
The motorcycle. I finally remembered. It had been in one of Lena's graveyard pictures, the one that vanished from her wall right after I asked
about it.
She wouldn't jump on the back of some random guy's bike.
Not unless she knew him.
Right then, I didn't know which was worse.

6.12

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