Nightfall

by Douglas, Penelope

  I beamed inside but bit back my smile, hurriedly spinning around with my oven mitt as the timer went off. I pulled one of the pans out of the oven.

  Setting it on the cooling rack, I stuck a knife in the middle and pulled it out, making sure it was cooked all the way through.

  Micah entered, followed by Alex and Rory, and Micah’s gaze locked on the pan, climbing up on the counter like a cat and sexy crawling right for the sweets. He inhaled deep, closing his eyes. “Is that…?”

  “Brownies?” Alex finished for him, gawking at me.

  “You’re making brownies?” Rory asked.

  I shrugged, pulling out a fork and handing it to Micah, but he just loomed over the pan and dug in with his fingers, hissing at the hot confection before gobbling it.

  Rory’s mouth fell open, and I knew he didn’t want to want it, but he did. He plucked the fork out of my hand and dug in, both of them hogging down the brownies with no manners and zero control.

  I mean, geez. It wasn’t like they couldn’t make them at any time. The ingredients were all here.

  Quickly, I cut out a piece before they ate it all and slid it onto a plate just as Aydin, Will, and Taylor strolled in, the scent drawing their attention.

  I handed the plate to Aydin, feeling Will’s eyes on me as he hung back by the door.

  Aydin held my gaze, pleased, and he tried to take the plate, but I pulled it away, playing a little.

  He laughed and grabbed it, immediately digging in.

  I shot Will a look and turned around, shutting off the oven and reaching inside again.

  “You should’ve put walnuts in them,” Rory said.

  I turned around, showing him the second pan, the surface dotted with fucking walnuts.

  Micah stopped eating, staring at the other pan with chocolate covering his mouth and teeth.

  He reached for it, but I pulled it away. “I need help with the chandelier first.”

  Rory hooded his eyes, but I could see the smile there, because he knew exactly what I was doing, and I won.

  If he wanted brownies with walnuts, then…

  He sighed. “Micah? Taylor? Help me out, please?”

  Their shoulders slumped, but they went, leaving the room with Rory and heading back to the ballroom.

  I cut two slices out of the new pan.

  “Wendy and The Lost Boys,” Aydin mused.

  “And that makes you Peter Pan?” I asked.

  He chuckled as I handed one slice to Alex and pushed the other plate over to Will.

  But Will shot out, slapping the plate and the pan, sending them both flying onto the floor.

  Every muscle in my body went rigid as they crashed and broke, the dessert splattered on the floor.

  I darted my eyes to his.

  “This isn’t Neverland,” he said, coming up to the island and glowering at me. “If it were, you wouldn’t be here. Grown-ups aren’t allowed.”

  My stomach sank a little, but I didn’t blink, even though my eyes screamed to.

  Spinning around, he charged out, and Alex hesitated a moment, throwing me an apologetic glance before finally going after him.

  Aydin watched me, but I didn’t give him a chance to insert himself. Turning around, I dug the bowl back out of the sink and began mixing ingredients again, keeping my hands busy, because that was the only distraction I had.

  I got it. You don’t fit, so stop posing.

  No surprise here. It didn’t bother me.

  It felt like Aydin wanted to say something, but it was time to put his lesson to the test. Nothing happened to me. I happened to everyone else. Et cetera, et cetera...

  After he left, I put the brownies with walnuts in the oven, cleaned the dishes, and made myself a sandwich that I didn’t eat, because Micah and Rory walked back in, and I didn’t want to be around anyone.

  “Brownies are on a timer,” I told them. “Take them out and turn off the oven when it’s done.”

  They probably wondered why I’d had to make a second batch, but I was gone before they had a chance to ask.

  Just put it out of your mind.

  Him wanting me with him last night wasn’t about us. I’d let myself enjoy it and let it mean more than it did when he swept me into his arms.

  I never fit with him. I always knew it, because Thunder Bay was Neverland and the Horsemen his tribe, and I hated to play. I didn’t do fun.

  And leaving town hadn’t cured me of that.

  I drifted into the ballroom, seeing the chandelier hanging high above, its lights illuminated and casting a soft glow over the floor. They’d cleaned up the glass, turned on the breaker again, and I kicked off my shoes, turning around in the big, open space with my head tipped back.

  That was why I loved building and designing things. Making someone’s world theirs. It was a chance to fly, and all I needed was a dumb, happy thought.

  And I’d had one. Just one that I hung on to all this time.

  Spotting a record player near the fireplace, I walked over and dug inside the chest underneath it, seeing a few dozen records stacked together.

  There was everything from Mozart to Bennie Goodman to the Eagles, but nothing from this century. It had probably been that long since this place had been inhabited by a family.

  I picked one out and slipped it onto the turntable, deciding to embrace everything I hated, including this dumbass song. The stylus hit the record as it spun, and “If You Wanna Be Happy” by Jimmy Soul started playing, and I immediately smiled, remembering my mom and dad dancing to this in the kitchen when I was about seven or eight.

  My body moved, and I bobbed my shoulders, hopping around as I sang along. I spun around the room, the music filling the air around me, and for a few precious moments, the guilt and everything faded away.

  Fuck him for thinking I was supposed to have everything figured out at sixteen. Fuck him for demanding of me what I couldn’t even give myself. He and Aydin and Martin were all dictators, and I never heard my own voice.

  Ever.

  And it was my fault. I should’ve said it louder. I should’ve screamed. I hated that I had to, but it was my fault I fell quiet.

  I wasn’t a grown-up. He was wrong. I never grew. I was always this pile of dead leaves, blowing in the wind and letting the seasons, whoever they were, come in and change me and walk on me, and I never fought for anything.

  I spun and spun, the tears streaming down my face until someone swept me into his arms, and I opened my eyes to see Micah spinning me around as I wrapped my legs around his waist.

  He planted his forehead to mine, smiling gently as I started laughing, the saxophone vibrating throughout the room.

  “If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life,” we sang, “never make a pretty woman your wife…”

  And he spun and spun, and I started laughing so hard as I hugged him to me, catching sight of everyone else by the door watching us.

  They must’ve heard the music, too.

  God, I didn’t care. I punched my fist in the air, both of us shouting the lyrics like complete idiots. No one was going to tell me how to feel. Not anymore.

  No one could make me feel anything I didn’t allow. I was in control.

  And I was ready for an adventure.

  Emory

  Nine Years Ago

  My brother stopped in front of the school, pulling off to the curb and putting the car in Park.

  I hadn’t slept a wink last night, and while there was a cloud fogging my brain, so nothing was really clear yet, I didn’t feel tired.

  More like my head was floating six feet above my body, detached and delayed.

  “You look really pretty today,” Martin said.

  I tried to smile. “Thanks.”

  My skirt and shirt were ironed, my hair was combed and fixed with a headband, my tie tightened, and for once, I wore the expensive navy blue blazer he bought me last year that still fit.

  “I hope I find you at home when I get off work.”

  I nodded.
“I’m sorry about everything,” I said in a low voice.

  I felt his eyes on me, but he remained silent for a while.

  Then, his soft voice filled the car. “We have to get along, Emmy. I’m all you have.” Then he ruffled my hair, laughing. “I mean, I’m nice, right? I buy you stuff and let you have freedom. I got you into this school because I want you to have the best. I try, right?”

  I nodded again.

  “I’ll make some of that homemade caramel corn you like tonight, too,” I said.

  He groaned, smiling. “Sounds like a plan.”

  I climbed out of the car, taking my bag with me and waving goodbye before heading through the parking lot.

  It wasn’t often we patched things up with so little effort, but after I got home last night, I didn’t even try to sleep. I showered again, washing my hair and scrubbing and shaving like a new me would be some kind of armor.

  I cleaned my room, fixed up the kitchen again, and made cinnamon rolls, letting them bake as I sat at the table and completed all my homework, even the study guide for The Grapes of Wrath that wasn’t due for another week.

  I packed up my school bag, dressed, and even put on some mascara before Martin arrived home to find life perfect again.

  I wasn’t getting out of this situation. And I couldn’t kill him.

  I had to survive, and just like last night when I told Damon that there was a tear in the membrane, I realized as the hours passed that it wasn’t going away.

  Something had disconnected, and every memory of his hand across my face or his fist in my stomach over the years was like a dream happening to someone else.

  I wasn’t there.

  I wasn’t here now.

  I didn’t have the energy to care about anything.

  The morning classes came and went, and I wasn’t even sure if Will was in my first period, because the lecture seemed to end before I realized it had started.

  I stared at my desk, the wrestling room playing in my head and something swelling in my heart but ripping it to shreds at the same time.

  I was glad he had his friends. They loved him, and Will deserved to never be alone.

  But I also hated the idea of anyone else but me making him happy.

  Making Will happy was an amazing feeling.

  I wished I could be the girl I was at the Cove every day, but it was gone. The weight had crushed that spark, and I couldn’t muster the energy to even try anymore.

  “God, I’m not ready for basketball season to start,” Elle said, setting her lunch tray down next to me in line. “There are like two weeks where it overlaps with football, and we’ll be swamped.”

  “Not me,” I muttered, moving down the line. “I quit band this morning.”

  “What?”

  I took some chicken tenders and ranch, not bothering to look at her.

  “My grandmother is sick,” I explained quietly. “Or sicker, I mean. I’m needed at home now.”

  I didn’t even bother to talk to the director in person. I emailed her, pretty confident my brother would agree that concentrating on my studies and my architectural projects would be a better use of my time.

  The less I was at school—or games or on buses—the better.

  “I’m going to go sit with Gabrielle today,” she said suddenly. “We have to talk about a… a project.”

  She took her tray and walked past me, toward the cashier, and I didn’t look up or respond.

  The one friend I might’ve had…

  I didn’t care.

  I paid, walked to an empty section of a table in the corner of the room, and sat down, slipping in my earbuds and turning on some music from the iPod hidden in my pocket.

  I raised my eyes for a split second, immediately locking gazes with Damon. He sat twenty yards away at a circular table filled with his friends. Chaos went on around him, but he remained still and calm like the eye of the storm, the tears and rage from last night almost like they had never happened.

  I’d been waiting for the guilt to start eating me up, but it didn’t. The worry sat there, but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it now, and I wasn’t sure I would’ve done anything differently if I could go back to last night. He had as much to lose, and he was sloppy. There was probably evidence of him all over her.

  Somehow, I felt more in control not caring than I ever did.

  Dropping my eyes, I opened my milk and my ranch, starting to eat as “Army of Me” played in my ears, but then the air around me started vibrating, and I heard a different beat in my ears.

  Pulling out the earbuds, I looked up and saw Will on top of his lunch table.

  His friends sat or stood, looking up at him and laughing as he started dancing to some pop 80s or 90s tune, stripping off his school jacket as his shirt and tie hung on him like a god.

  He was going to look amazing in a suit someday.

  He jumped off the table, moving around the room as students hooted and howled, and he looked like…

  I laughed under my breath, a smile spreading across my face.

  He looked like Jean-Claude Van Damme in Kickboxer.

  Hang around more and maybe you’ll find out.

  The smile slowly fell, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. This was for me.

  Needles pricked my throat, watching him dance and loving the smile on his face.

  I flashed my gaze to Damon again, seeing that he wasn’t looking at me anymore. His head was turned and his eyes fixated on another table. I followed his gaze, seeing Winter Ashby and Erika Fane sitting and eating, surrounded by other kids.

  What was he doing with her last night on that motorcycle? We might’ve bonded in ways most people never did, but I wasn’t an idiot, either. Damon screwed, abused, used, and there was no one and nothing on which he didn’t prey. I didn’t know what his interest in her was, but I was pretty sure it would hurt her.

  “Get down!” someone shouted.

  I looked away from Winter and over to Will, seeing Kincaid bark at him as he stood on the table. The music over the loudspeakers died, and everyone laughed as he smiled and jumped down from another table.

  The cloud that had been sitting in my head the last twelve hours started to fade a little, and for a moment, I missed him.

  Wouldn’t he love it if I made the grand gesture next? Snuck into his room tonight? Hung out at the pool every afternoon, waiting for him to show up?

  Called him?

  Erika Fane led Winter Ashby out of the lunchroom, both of them dumping their trays before they exited and Damon watching them. I tore my eyes away from Will, putting my earbuds back in and trying to eat.

  I barely heard the music as I nibbled on my food, ignoring the eyes I felt on me and the sounds of laughter coming from his table.

  The room started to clear, students getting ready to move on to their next class, but just then, the fire alarm screeched in my ears and commotion filled the lunchroom.

  I pulled out my earbuds, the blaring cry and flashing lights from the alarms on the wall deafening. I winced, rising from my seat.

  “Single file, everyone!” a teacher called, and I looked around, seeing Will and some friends already heading out the door.

  What the hell? A fire?

  He looked back at me, meeting my eyes as he walked, but I looked away and headed around the table.

  Leaving my tray, I hurried to the line, a teacher leading us out while more trailed behind to make sure we had everyone. The hall crowded with students, everyone trying to get out of the building as teachers shouted for us to be calm and quiet.

  “Do not run!” one told us.

  While another said, “Get back here. You’re not going to the bathroom.”

  We filed outside, students drifting to the far edge of the parking lot and waiting as the siren inside continued to pierce the air over and over again.

  I looked around, seeing Will sit on the bricks lining the tree and flower bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared up at me.

&nb
sp; Victoria Radcliffe and Maisie Vos sat at each side, Tori draping an arm over his shoulder, showing off her hundred-dollar cuticles as she chatted to someone else.

  Will just sat there, and I shifted on my feet, turning my back on him as I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Where’s Damon Torrance?” I heard someone ask.

  I popped my head up, seeing the dean walk through the crowd.

  “He was just in the cafeteria. Anyone see where he went?”

  I scanned the crowd, looking for two heads of blonde hair and finally spotting Erika, alone and frantically talking to a teacher.

  “Winter Ashby’s missing, too,” I called out.

  Kincaid looked over at me, then surveyed the crowd. Pursing his lips, he charged back toward the school.

  “Why ruin the good time she’s no doubt having, Emory?”

  I looked over my shoulder, seeing Maisie wearing a smirk.

  Everyone in their little group was staring at me.

  “She’s fourteen,” I said.

  I mean, duh.

  But she just snickered. “Why don’t you just go away?”

  My gaze dropped to Will, heat spreading all over my body. He just sat there and stared at me, a self-satisfied smile in his eyes that he didn’t let out. He didn’t blink once.

  Their disdain felt like a kick, and in over two years at this school, I’d never felt so far on the outside, because while I didn’t care how I looked in their eyes, I cared how I looked in his.

  Twisting back around, I walked away, the cloud in my head thickening again until the pain of wanting him turned into an addiction to the pain of rejecting him.

  It grew and fed me every day from that point on.

  Destroying myself and everything I loved and wanted for myself became the only thing I had any control over.

  I could ignore him in class. Pass him in the halls without a look. Act like he didn’t exist.

  Pretend I was above it all and they were nothing.

  I did it all.

  Time passed, seasons changed, he left for college, and a year later, so did I.

  What I didn’t know then was that the damage we would do to each other was only just beginning.

  Will