by Zoe Chant
With a cold chill, Ransom realized that maybe he didn’t. What had knowing things ever gotten him, other than migraines and losing his team and seeing over and over and over again that the truth always hurts? He could push her to tell him what was going on, but what was she likely to say?
His hellhound supplied some answers:
I’m worried that you’re getting too intense about me. Don’t. I’m just lonely. I’m not really into you, Ransom.
I know we’ve been flirting but it’s only for fun, so don’t get any ideas it’s anything more than that.
I don’t need you. Don’t act like I do.
His beast was right. Ransom didn’t want to know.
“I was thinking about how to pick what to do next,” Natalie said. He could hear that candy-shell brittleness in her voice, and see it in her movement as she spun around to take out her bucket list. “Close your eyes and touch it. We’ll do whatever the finger picks.”
I don’t want to know, he thought. And he closed his eyes and reached out.
“QUIZ A HIGH FOOL,” he read. “I remember that one.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s VISIT A HIGH SCHOOL. I never got to attend one, you know.”
“I did, and I wouldn’t use the phrase ‘got to.’ For me it was definitely ‘had to.’ In fact, my actual high school isn’t that far from here.” His power, helpful for once, informed him that it was 297.3 miles away. “About a five-hour drive.”
“Would you want to visit your own school, though? If it’s got a lot of bad memories…”
“It’s just a building,” Ransom said dismissively. He’d endured so much, what were a few bad memories of high school? He’d barely notice the sting. “If you want to go when it’s in session, we’ll have to do a guided tour. They won’t let in a pair of random adults. We could pretend we’re parents who want to check it out for our kid.”
She sat on the bed, frowning. “I hadn’t thought of that. I hate guided tours. Can’t we disguise ourselves as students?”
“You could. I’d never pass. It’s either an official tour, or we sneak in after hours, when everyone’s gone.”
The brittle shell fell away as an absolutely sincere delight lit up her face. “Ooh, let’s do that. That sounds much more fun. And you know the building, so you can show me around.”
“You’re on.”
Natalie took the first half of the drive, her longest so far. Though she tended to go terrifyingly fast, especially around curves, her quick reflexes made up for it. If her driving was a bit too nervewracking for Ransom to completely relax, he did love watching how much fun she was having.
The drive to his hometown wasn’t a road he’d ever taken before, but once they reached the town itself, he recognized almost everything. It was startling how little it had changed.
“There’s the library,” he said. “My home away from home. I used to catch the bus after school straight to it, and stay there until the last bus back.”
“I’m jealous. I never had enough books until I finally got my Kindle. I couldn’t check anything out of a library, because we never stayed in one town long enough for me to get a card.”
“And there’s the alley where the guys used to hang out and drink beer they’d swiped from their parents’ refrigerators.”
“Guys including you?”
Ransom couldn’t help making a face. “I didn’t want to be there, and they wouldn’t have wanted me, so it all worked out.”
The motel they checked into was a new one, he thought, though he’d never seen the inside of any hotel while he’d lived in the town. All motels were beginning to seem the same to him.
When night fell, he took the wheel and drove Natalie and the puppies to his old high school. She gave a baffled look at the football field. “Where’s the school?”
“Who cares about school? Football’s the important thing. Football and cheerleading and partying and getting drunk and throwing up in the alley.”
Dryly, she said, “Sounds like exactly your scene. I can see why you loved it so much.”
He had to chuckle. “Come on. I’ll show you the actual school.”
They parked several blocks away, then headed to the back, pretending to be innocent dog-walkers while actually checking the security cameras and alarm systems.
“There’s some gaps in the camera coverage,” he said. “I can show you where they are, but the alarm system is harder to deal with. The only access point I can see, you’d have to dangle from a tree branch by your feet to get to it. I think we’ll have to come back with some specialized equipment to deactivate it from a distance.”
“I can dangle from a tree branch by my feet,” said Natalie. “And I’ve had lots of experience turning off alarm systems.”
“Oh. Then let’s go for it.”
They let the puppies off their leashes—they’d taught them to heel by then—and he led her to the edge of the zone the cameras covered. Standing in the shadows, he pointed out the areas where the cameras didn’t quite reach.
“It’s narrow,” he warned her. “If you even let your elbows stick out too much, they’ll get in the frame.”
She smiled. “I have perfect control over my elbows.”
With that, she ran lightly to the fence, her footsteps silent in her soft-soled black ballet slippers. She was dressed all in black, as was he, with a black baseball cap jammed over her head to conceal her hair. While still several yards from the fence, she leaped into the air. Her body seemed to float in slow motion, arcing toward the fence until she caught it with both hands and her feet as well, landing so lightly that the chain links barely shook. It was an astonishing feat of athleticism, strength, and precision… and one which was also incredibly beautiful to watch.
Natalie had caught the fence in a standing position, and she climbed it with so much ease that she seemed to be walking in place. Ransom blinked once, and she was standing on top of the fence, her hands loose at her sides, as casually as if she was on the sidewalk. He didn’t even see her muscles tense before she was once again flying through the air, hands outstretched to catch the branch of a tree inside the school grounds.
She caught the branch, pulled herself up, then walked along the narrow branch until she was as close as she could get to the alarm. Natalie examined the branch, tested its strength, moved one inch over, and stuffed her baseball cap down the front of her tight black tank top. Then she dropped with a speed that made him gasp until she caught herself an instant later, dangling upside down with her ankles locked around the branch.
She could barely reach the alarm, and was forced to work entirely with the tips of her fingers. But they moved deftly and confidently. Even someone who had no idea what she was doing would have been able to tell that she was good at it. Only a few minutes later, she bent at the waist, reached upward, pulled herself back up on to the branch, left the baseball cap hanging from a stub, climbed down the tree, and walked to the fence.
The moonlight made her skin shine like a pearl, and bleached her hair to intricate streaks and strands of darkness and light. She crouched down and whistled softly. Wally vanished and reappeared beside her. Heidi cocked her head at Ransom and gave an inquisitive whine.
“Go on,” he said. “Go to Natalie.”
Heidi too vanished, reappearing beside her brother. And then Ransom ran for the fence.
Chapter 16
Ransom climbed the fence with the muscular grace of a panther. With his larger frame, it was much harder for him to squeeze himself into the narrow space where the camera’s gaze didn’t reach, but he managed it, executing the difficult turn at the fence top with ease. Seconds later, he was inside, walking up to her in his black clothes like a shadow, feet silent as paws.
She’d thought “panther,” but his other form was canine, not feline. Was a hellhound more like a dog, or more like a wolf? And what made it hellish, anyway? Its existence seemed like such a painful topic for him that she’d never asked.
“Welcome to Ellisville
High,” he said. “Home of the Cavemen.”
“What?”
He indicated the side of the building, which was graced with an absolutely hideous mural of a pack of heavy-browed, jaw-jutting, matted-haired cavemen waving clubs.
“Why?” asked Natalie.
“It’s our mascot and the name of our football team. There’s a cave nearby where supposedly William Whipple spent a night sheltering from a thunderstorm—”
“Who?”
“He signed the Declaration of Independence. Anyway, the whole cave thing never happened. It’s an urban legend. But it’s called Whipple’s Cave, and Ellisville isn’t famous for anything else, so we got to be the Cavemen. And by the way, you would not believe how seriously everyone took them.”
They had been walking around the building, but when she glanced back over her shoulder, the mural was every bit as much of a monstrosity as it had been when seen head-on.
“It’s not that I think you’re making it up,” she said. “It’s just that it’s hard to believe.”
“Yeah. I felt that way too.” Ransom stopped at a door. “How are you at picking locks? Merlin taught me, but it takes me forever.”
“The same person who taught Merlin taught me, and I’m pretty fast. Shall I take the lock, and you take the alarm?”
He stepped aside to let her at it. She took out her lockpicks out of her bra, which was where she stashed small items that she’d like to still have in the event that she got arrested, searched, and locked up. It had happened a couple times.
Natalie got to work, occasionally glancing over at Ransom as he disabled the security alarm. He had such utter concentration when he worked, with his long fingers moving as gracefully and confidently as a magician’s, but he also had an aura of alertness. She had no doubt that should anyone try to sneak up on them, he’d have them face-down on the ground and be patting them down before she’d even noticed they were there.
They finished almost at the same moment. Ransom opened the door for her, then closed it behind them. They’d brought flashlights, but dim safety lights were on, illuminating a long corridor.
Heidi and Wally stuck their noses in, then backed away, sneezing indignantly.
“Ugh!” said Natalie. “What’s that smell?”
“We called it the Ellisville Reek. It’s equal parts chlorine, sweat, hot dogs, and Axe body spray.”
“Uuuuugggggghhhh.”
“Regretting this already?”
“Not a chance.” She stepped inside. With some coaxing, the puppies followed, their nails clicking on the linoleum. “Lead on. Pretend I’m the new girl you’re showing around.”
To her amusement, he threw himself into the role. “That’s the school counselor’s office. His name’s Wayne, but we call him Wayne the Weasel. Don’t ever tell him anything. He says it’s confidential, but it isn’t. And that’s the principal’s office. At least, we think we have a principal. No one’s ever seen her. Maybe she doesn’t exist.”
“Why is Room 113 next to Room 9?”
“Oh, right. The room numbers aren’t sequential. My theory is that it’s to keep us subtly disoriented, so we’ll be less likely to revolt.”
There were Cavemen posters, football posters, and cheerleading posters everywhere. The only break from the football theme were the posters warning students not to do drugs and not to drink and drive.
In her “new girl” persona, Natalie said, “I’m really into gymnastics. Can you do that here without being a cheerleader?”
“No, sorry. Cheerleading is it here as far as gymnastics are concerned.”
“Hmm,” she said, pretending to think it over. “That might be okay. Do you know any of the cheerleaders? Date any of them?”
He smothered a snort of disbelief. “No. I’m not the kind of guy cheerleaders date. And you’re not the cheerleading type. I know in some schools the cheerleaders are athletes, but here they wave pompoms for the football players and do the occasional backflip. Also, I hear the other girls say they’re mean.”
She could see him as a teenager now: tall and lanky, hunched over to avoid attention, observing everything and drawing his cynical conclusions. She couldn’t think of anyone who’d fit in less in this setting, not even her.
“Your hair,” he added. “I hate to break it to you, but ‘unnatural colors’ aren’t allowed.”
“Well, that sucks.”
“Sorry. I think it looks great.”
“Thanks.” Natalie heaved a sigh. “Let’s see… I love to read. How’s the library?”
“Small. I’ll show you.” He led her to a door that she had thought was a closet, but when she peeked through the glassed-in rectangular insert, she saw that it was in fact a library… a library crammed into a closet. Also, it had more DVDs than books.
Forgetting her role, she burst out, “This is terrible! Ransom, I’m so sorry I dragged you here. I should have asked you first.”
“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have taken you. I know the sort of high school experience you were thinking of—prom and beach parties and making friends and putting on plays—and some people do have it. Some people even have it here, at Ellisville High. It’s just that I didn’t.”
“It sounds like I wouldn’t have either.”
“No. You like to read and do gymnastics and dye your hair unnatural colors and play with puppies and go to produce festivals. Every single one of those things was weird or uncool or childish here. And that would be that. It wouldn’t matter if you were the prettiest girl or the best athlete in the entire school—which you would have been, both of those—or the bravest or kindest or smartest. Which you also would have been. But no one would have cared.” After a moment, he added, “Except me.”
She took his hand. It was only when love surged up inside her, filling her heart and soul and body, that she remembered her determination to keep her distance. But when his fingers closed around hers, she found herself unable to let go.
“Anyway,” he said at last. “Ellisville High isn’t what you were looking for. I should’ve found a school that was, and taken you there.”
“No.” She squeezed his hand. “I wanted to know what it would’ve been like if I’d gone to high school. And now I know. I would’ve hated it.”
“But Ellisville High isn’t… I don’t want to say it’s not typical, because it’s definitely typical of a specific sort of high school experience. But you might have gone to a better one.”
She shook her head. “If I hadn’t run away and joined the circus, I would’ve stayed in the group home. And let me tell you, based on the elementary schools I went to, my high school would not have been good. It might’ve had less football, but it would’ve had more metal detectors. And I still wouldn’t have fit in. I didn’t at the group home. Did you fit in when you were ten?”
“No. I was always different.”
“Me too.” Without thought, she leaned her head against his shoulder. His arm slipped around her waist, so immediately that she knew he too had moved out of instinct and desire, not conscious intent. The Ellisville Reek was driven out by his natural scent, something woodsy and smoky and masculine.
“Didn’t you fit in at the circus?” he asked.
Natalie hoped she hadn’t actually flinched at that question. But Ransom didn’t move, so she guessed her reaction was only on the inside. She scrambled to find a response that would be honest but also change the subject. “I did. I loved the circus. It was everything before the circus that was unhappy—my teenage years were way better than yours. Do you have any happy high school memories?”
“Yes, actually. There was one high school event that was a real highlight. I’ll show you where it happened.” As he led her through the dim, smelly corridors, he said, “My junior year, there was a football game that was a big deal for… some reason I forget. They called us into an assembly, and told us that except for the football players and cheerleaders, all our PE sessions for the next month would be devoted to teaching the entire st
udent body to march in formation to spell out GO CAVEMEN and then make the shape of a caveman.”
Natalie burst out laughing. “Come on.”
“I’m serious,” he protested. “I said, ‘I refuse to participate in this idiotic exercise in ant-like conformity.’ Only no one heard me, because they were all busy cheering. Except for the guy next to me, Johnny Trevisano, who whispered, ‘I have an idea for getting out of this. Stay after the assembly.’ The only reason I even knew his name was that he was the only out gay guy in the entire school.”
“Good for him.”
Ransom nodded. “I’d always respected him for that—in our school, being different in any way took courage. So I stuck around. Once we were alone, Johnny said, ‘The cheerleaders don’t have to march because they have to cheerlead. I think we can get out of the march if we propose doing our own thing. I’ve been teaching myself to juggle, but I can’t learn any two-person techniques because I don’t have another person. Want to do a two-man juggling act with me?’
I said, ‘I don’t know how to juggle.’
‘No problem,’ he said. ‘I’ll teach you.’
I said, ‘What if I suck?’
Johnny said, ‘No one who wins medals shooting is going to suck at juggling.’”
“Wait a sec,” Natalie broke in. “You won medals shooting?”
Ransom looked mildly surprised. “Oh—I guess I never mentioned that. I was a state champion at high-power rifle. It wasn’t through school. I think Johnny must’ve known because it was in the local paper a couple times.”
“And that wasn’t considered cool?”
“Nope. At least, not when it was me doing it.”
They ducked under a drooping GO CAVEMEN banner and went out a door. To her immense relief, it was an exit. She gulped in the cool night air as they headed toward the football field, which sent up a much more pleasant scent of wet grass.
“Johnny got permission for our act, and while everyone else marched around the football field in the shape of a caveman, he and I practiced juggling in his backyard. It was a lot of fun. No one was watching us and we were a pair of teenage boys, so we got wilder and wilder. We juggled knives. We juggled flaming torches. We juggled chainsaws.”