The Watchers Page 8

  I looked over his shoulder and saw the woman watching us. “Okay.”

  He rounded the aisle, his fingers still brushing the CDs, and joined me on my side, shortening the space between us. I turned away and ogled the guitar, figuring it was the safer of the two to ogle. Not fighting the impulse, too distracted by him being so near, I reached out and strummed the strings. My heart lifted up a couple of inches at the sound it made. It was beautiful and pure, everything I had thought it would be. As the note faded, sadness replaced the warmth I felt. Something this beautiful and amazing could never be mine. It was too beautiful.

  “Do you play?” he asked.

  He moved even closer. He was so close our arms were almost touching.

  “I used to.”

  “But you don’t anymore?”

  “I haven’t played in a while, no.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s always ‘why’ with you.” This reply wasn’t good enough. He waited for me to answer, his face patient. “Fine. I just kind of lost interest. I figured, ‘what’s the point?’ you know?”

  “Does there have to be a point?” he asked.

  I shrugged and strummed the guitar again. “Purpose is good to have.”

  I turned and started to walk to the front of the store, uncomfortable with the way his body was talking to mine. We were too close. His body was too familiar. The woman at the counter had disappeared in to the back, giving us space. It was just us. That only increased the feelings coursing between us.

  He followed me to the door and reached across to open it before I could. I wanted to take a step back from his overwhelming presence, but there was no room. He hesitated as he opened the door, his body trapping me. I had nowhere to go.

  “But sometimes too much purpose blinds you to what’s really important,” he said seriously. “It makes you see the end result instead of the journey to get there.”

  “I can agree with that,” I said awkwardly.

  His face shocked, he took a step back and held the door for me to walk through.

  “What? I can’t agree with you?” I demanded, glad for the cold air and the space.

  “Of course, you can. It’s just strange for you to. From what I’ve gathered, you like to be contrary.”

  “No, I don’t…”

  “Right…Can I ask you a question?” he asked as we walked down the broad stairs.

  “Only if you answer mine.”

  “Deal. Why did you and your mom move here?”

  I laughed. Was he serious? He was looking at me, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans again as he walked. He genuinely wanted to know. His eyes told me so.

  I told him, hoping, trusting, he would keep the story to himself. “My mom is from here. This is where she grew up. She ran away, though, when she was very young. She didn’t get along with her parents very well…her mom wanted a life for Ellen that Ellen just didn’t want. Beauty pageants and conforming…it just wasn’t Ellen…Her mom wouldn’t listen, so Ellen ran away. We’ve been all over the United States for…various reasons, and she hoped that coming back here would end our, uh, moving.” I had almost said running. “Her dad died about four months ago, and he left her the house in his will. It was sort of a major shock for us, because he hadn’t talked to her since she ran away…” I trailed off thinking about the memories which were haunting her.

  I had found her last night crying over a picture of her parents. I had comforted her, and we had talked until late, but talking had only done so much. There were demons here she was facing every day. Demons I couldn’t face for her.

  “But it’s hard for her to be here?” Daniel asked.

  I nodded. “There are a lot of bad memories for her here, and more than her share of regrets.” I creased my forehead in thought, watching my feet as we walked. “But she needed to come back. It’s important to her. And if it means her dealing with things that have haunted her since she was young, then I can deal with being here. I owe her that much.”

  “Why?”

  “Ellen and I are worlds apart but she tries to understand me. She lets me be me, even if she doesn’t always get it. And,” I sighed, playing with my necklace, “she’s always there for me. She would never abandon me like my dad did.”

  My eyes widened as the last words escaped. It was too easy to talk to him. It shouldn’t be that easy. I looked at him, worried and afraid. What would Mr. All-star quarterback think of that? Was I right to think he would keep our conversation to himself?

  His answer quieted my fear. “I can understand that feeling,” he said quietly. “I feel pretty thankful my parents didn’t abandon me like my birth parents did.”

  I stopped walking. “You’re adopted?”

  “I don’t think of it like that,” he said. “They’re my parents. They’re just not biologically mine.” He kicked at the ground then looked at me. “I would appreciate you not telling anyone at school about that. I haven’t told anyone.”

  “I won’t say anything,” I said.

  “I believe you.”

  “Did you ever meet your birth parents?” I asked.

  “No,” he replied. “Never.”

  “Sorry…”

  “Your dad walked out?” he asked back.

  “I thought everyone here would know about that,” I said with a reluctant grin. How could he not know?

  “I know what everyone else has said, but I don’t actually know the truth.”

  He had turned to face me, his arms crossed. I was pleased I could quite literally stand up to him. He was taller than me, but only by a little bit.

  “How people interpret the truth and the actual truth are two different things,” I agreed. I drew in a heavy breath then told him. “My dad left before I was born. Ellen was eight months pregnant.”

  “Has he ever contacted you?”

  “No. And I don’t want him to.”

  “You don’t mean that.” He sounded sure.

  “Yes, I do. Ellen is all the family I’ve ever needed. She’s there for me in all the ways that matter, you know?”

  He gave me another funny smile. “Yes, I do know.”

  We started walking again. But the feeling between us had changed. We were confidants, sharers of each other’s secrets. We were bound together by what we had divulged. I had learned something I hadn’t expected about him, but my curiosity still wasn’t sated. There was so much more I wanted to know.

  “What are you really doing here if you aren’t stalking me?” A thought occurred. “Wait…I thought you were out of town?”

  “Now I know you were checking up on me.”

  I made a face and he laughed, filling the deserted back streets with sound.

  “Which question would you prefer me to answer? The woods one, the stalking one, or the out of town one?”

  “Can’t you answer all of them?”

  “Nope.”

  I contemplated my question of choice. “The woods one.”

  He stopped walking and crossed his arms again. His foot made a staccato beat on the concrete.

  “There’s been an animal out in the woods recently. It killed a couple of bears. A Forest Ranger friend told me.”

  “There’s something out there capable of killing bears?”

  “Yes. So, imagine how you would fare if you went wandering around.”

  “Point taken.”

  “Where are we going by the way?” he asked. He started to walk again, very obviously changing the subject.

  “I need to give your jacket back to you. I had it at school on Tuesday, but you didn’t show up.” I waited expectantly.

  He laughed. “Nope. Sorry. You’re not getting anything else.”

  “That’s not very fair.”

  “Life’s not fair.”

  I agreed with him but didn’t let it show. “Fine. Then you’re not getting anything else from me either.”

  “Fine.”

  I clamped my lips together resolutely at his words. There was no way I would speak
first. I would win this little contest of wills. Just like our tennis game, I was determined to show him I could do it better. It was silly, but irrevocably my personality.

  In absolute silence, we crossed over to Main Street, avoiding the Friday traffic, and the kids cruising around in their cars. The thoughts I should have been hearing were quiet as we walked, mimicking our last walk together. There was just a warm wall of dark of silence. I had missed that silence.

  When we got to the first small road leading towards my house Daniel caved in. I saw him glance at me, his amused smile transforming into a question. “Clare, remember when I said that you’re not getting anything else from me?” he asked seriously.

  “Of course, I remember. That was like two seconds ago.”

  “Well, I take it back.”

  “You just figured out I could be silent longer than you,” I said.

  “Maybe. Or, maybe I figure the only way I can ask you questions is if I let you ask me some in return.”

  “Well, I do have a question,” I said.

  “Just one?”

  “No... Are you lonely?” I asked before I thought about it.

  He stopped midstride, as abruptly as a person walking into a wall. From the expression on his face, I knew I had said something wrong. He didn’t give me the chance to speak.

  “You’re wondering why I want to be around you when I have a bunch of people at school I can hang out with. You think I have to be lonely to want to talk to you outside of school. You don’t have enough confidence in yourself to see that maybe you would be an interesting friend to have, and that maybe I’m not interested in hanging out with people so generic they make me ill.”

  I crossed my arms defensively. I hadn’t asked for the reasons he had given, but now that he had brought it up…

  “I have plenty of confidence in myself. I just don’t feel that same level of confidence in others. I’ve seen how judgmental people can be, I’ve seen how they view me, I’ve seen the kind of hidden agendas they carry around with them, and that makes it hard for me to think that, after meeting me twice, you would want to be my friend without wanting something from me.”

  “What about Alex?” he demanded, taking a step closer to me.

  “What about her?”

  “You’ve obviously taken to her as a friend, why should I be any different?”

  I thrust my jaw out pugnaciously, knowing the answer to that, but not able to admit it to him. It was because I could read her thoughts. I didn’t have that same advantage with him. It made me uneasy…for several reasons.

  “It’s just different!”

  “Because I’m a man?”

  “Because you’re as uniform as the rest!” I said hatefully. He had cornered me and I resented him for it.

  He looked up at me through his eyelashes, his irises turning completely black again. I swallowed hard, but kept my ground. His scary looks wouldn’t intimidate me.

  “You should try getting to know me before you make those kinds of decisions,” he warned coldly. “And you shouldn’t judge people. It’s a sign of sloppy thinking.”

  “I don’t judge people!” I exclaimed, my indignation overriding my fear and the oddness of the moment.

  “You’re doing a mighty fine impression of it!”

  We stared at each other in mutual anger, both of us unrelenting. My stubbornness didn’t last long. I thought about everything he had just said, trying to work past the burning emotion. Guilt started to rise to the surface. Deep down, I knew I was scared to trust him; scared because I was attracted to him in ways I’d never really been attracted to someone before. I could only see that leading me to pain and regret. I was scared because I was used to erecting barriers, not tearing them down. And, I was upset at how easily I saw him tearing those barriers down. My anger, a defensive reflex, had me putting blame on him. But I knew better. Surely, I wasn’t that infantile?

  “I’m sorry,” I said finally.

  He snorted in disbelief, though his eyes returned to green. I decided to be honest with him, knowing it would expose more of my soul to him. I wanted him to understand though. It felt important.

  “I am! I didn’t mean to judge you, it’s just, well, you’re right. I’m not used to people being this interested in my friendship. I’ve always been the island and the rock. I’m not used to letting other people be a rock as well. Letting them be the water that flows around me is more my thing.”

  “That was sort of poetic in a, ‘you need some help,’ way,” he said, his angry face melting into a boyish grin. He turned away and started walking, forgiving me easily. I hurried to catch up, glad he wasn’t holding a grudge. “And to answer your question, I feel totally and completely alone. Every single day is a fight against that loneliness. Even around my family…it’s there.”

  There was something familiar about his words; familiar because I felt the same way. I felt my opinion of him shift.

  “Well then, I think we should be friends,” I said.

  He started laughing. “I thought it first, remember that.”

  “Yes, but I said it first.”

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  I hadn’t realized we had made it to the front door. I blinked and looked back at my porch I didn’t remember crossing. “What are you, a vampire?” I asked dryly.

  The memory of his black eyes flashed in front of my eyes.

  “Come again?” he asked.

  “Vampires have to be invited in to your…. never mind,” I trailed off not wanting to give away mine and Ellen’s horror novel addiction.

  “I won’t come inside unless you’d like me to. A gentleman waits for an invitation.”

  I dug the key out from under the mat and opened the door, gesturing grandly for him to enter. “After you, sir.”

  “Thanks.” Daniel crossed the threshold, and, when the earth didn’t collapse, I shut the door behind us. “Can I ask you a question, then?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Did that hurt?”

  He turned pointed to my nose ring. I laughed at his randomness.

  “Not nearly as bad as the tattoos did.”

  “You have a tattoo? Wait…tattoos in the plural?” He followed me, walking right on my heels as I made my way to the kitchen. “Seriously, do you have one? Where?”

  I shrugged and didn’t answer, enjoying the fascination in his eyes as I turned around. “I’ll get your jacket. Wait here.”

  “Okay.”

  I took the stairs two at a time, almost jogged down the hall, and took the second set of stairs in three leaps. I picked the jacket off the window seat and shook it out, hoping it didn’t look like I’d used it for a blanket the whole prior week. I was about to turn away from the window, the jacket over my arm, when I noticed a slight movement in the trees. I set the jacket down, my curiosity too much, and put my knees on the cushion, so I could see more of the forest. There was another flash of color, and I realized I was witnessing something running through the trees – something black and insanely large.

  The hair on my arms and neck rose in alarm. The shape disappeared, but it left me with a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was just an animal, I told myself firmly, trying to calm my racing heart. It was just a deer. Only it was way too large to be any animal I’d ever encountered. They didn’t have polar bears in these parts did they? Big, black, randomly fast polar bears…I set my feet on the hard floor and ran down the stairs, not wanting to keep Daniel waiting. But the woods, particularly with Daniel’s warning, were starting to freak me out.

  When I got back to the kitchen, he was next to the stove casually leaning against the counter as if he had not only built the counters, but had handpicked the materials that went in to building them. He looked at me solemnly as I appeared in the doorway, his face a study in innocent detachment. I gave him a suspicious look, feeling I had just walked in on him doing something bad. The memory of the animal faded from my mind at the sight of him, though the goose bumps linger
ed.

  “What?” I asked suspiciously.

  He blinked once, his face maintaining his study in innocence. “What?”

  “You’re up to something.”

  “Me?”

  I held out the jacket for him to take. He took it slowly, and I noticed he was being careful about not touching my hand or any other part of my skin. Maybe he thought my weirdness was catching? Or was it for another reason? We stared at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence first.

  He finally relented, seeing my obtuseness. “All right, I was looking though this, which I thought you might not like.”

  He reached behind him without looking. With one long finger, he drug around the small flowery book I kept by the stove at all times. It was mostly filled with cooking ideas and recipes I wanted to try out on Ellen, but it also had song lyrics, random ideas and poorly written poems. It was the closest thing to a journal I kept. I felt the blood rush to my face. I grabbed it off the counter and cradled it to my chest protectively. “This is private!”

  “I had to run down a street naked once,” he said quickly.

  “What does that have to do with anything?!”

  “I thought you might forgive me for looking if you knew something embarrassing about me.”

  “It’s only embarrassing if you were embarrassed,” I said.

  What could he have to be embarrassed about? I looked him over again, the heat in my face intensifying.

  “I had to run past a nunnery, and the nuns just happened to be walking to the local school for a fundraiser. They saw everything God gave me, so yes, I was embarrassed. I couldn’t walk down that street for years without feeling ashamed.”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Then I forgive you.” I said.

  He grinned, and I started laughing at the expression on his face. He joined in, and our laughs somehow merged into a seamless harmony that was as beautiful as it was daunting.

  “I think I should go,” he said as our laughter trailed away.

  “Oh…Okay.”

  I didn’t want him to leave. For once, I wasn’t lost in my head worrying about a million things or being drowned by other people’s thoughts. It felt normal. I didn’t have to be alone to feel like I wasn’t a freak of nature.