by Angel Lawson
“Is there anything you need me to do?” I ask.
“See that stash of brochures on the desk?” I nod at the stack of blue and green paper. “Can you take these around to all the unoccupied rooms and cottages? Put them on the counter.”
Anything to get out of the cramped quarters.
I pick up the stack and again pass that clean, summer-smelling boy and head out the door. I’m barely down the steps when I hear the door open and shut behind me again.
“Hey, wait up.”
I glance over my shoulder and see George. I don’t wait.
“So, Ms. Nye is your grandmother?”
“Yes.” I head down the path to the cottages. There are twelve in all.
“She’s awesome. Like one time I tripped and broke a window on the front porch and she didn’t even get mad.” He has his hands shoved in his hoodie pocket. “Have we met before? You look familiar.”
“I just moved here. I doubt it.”
“Weird. I swear I’ve seen your face.” I approach the first cottage that’s unoccupied and pull out the master key. “I’ve got a pretty good memory. I mean, obviously I’ve heard about you—because of Dexter, and—” I wait for him to say Jake. Instead he finishes with, “the thing with the backpacker.”
I unlock the door and hesitate. “Don’t, uh, follow me in, okay?”
He shrugs, making me notice how wide his shoulders are. “Sure.”
I place the brochure on the counter with the other welcome packet information and straighten up the pillows on the couch. Taking one last look over the room, I exit and step onto the small front deck.
George is down on the street, tossing rocks at an old metal barrel.
“You know Dex really isn’t a psycho,” he says, following me to the next house. “He’s just got a temper, but he’s also a good friend. Loyal and all that shit.”
“Yeah, sorry about calling him that. Don’t tell him, okay?” The last thing I need is for a psycho to know I called him that.
“I won’t. Promise.”
Again, my cheeks burned. Who is this guy and why is he so…friendly?
I approach one of the cottages and see that the trash can out front is turned over. Probably a wild animal. There are tons of raccoons around here—or at least that’s what Leelee told me. I bend down to pick up the trash.
“Here, let me help,” he says, following me. As his long fingers collect the trash, I notice they’re stained blue. Paint? “So anyway, what brought you to Lee Vines? Your grandmother, obviously, but why? I mean, it’s not the kind of place that gets a lot of new people. Tourists and hikers. The whole Yosemite thing. Lots of people come through on their way to Bodie, but beyond that, new residents are pretty rare.”
He moves quickly, gathering all the trash faster than I can process what he’s saying or doing.
“What’s Bodie?” I ask, going to the door. I unlock it and place the brochure inside like before. He waits obediently outside, sitting on the nearby picnic table.
“Oh, it’s this ghost town about thirty minutes away. It’s in a state park.” He looks me over, a little bit like he hasn’t fully focused on me yet. “It’s kind of cool.”
“I’ve never been to a ghost town.”
“Where are you from?”
“North Carolina.”
“Oh wow, that’s a long way. I’ve never been anywhere out of state other than Nevada. Las Vegas once, when my mom got remarried.”
I’ve got nothing to say to that. I have nothing to say to any of this. I’ve never been around someone that talks this much; rambles, even. So, I do what I do best. I’m quiet and I listen.
As we walk around the lodge property, George tells me how he likes adventure sports. Hiking, biking, skiing—water and snow. He rambles on about living in a small town and how it sucks. How it’s boring and how he can’t wait to leave when he saves some money and graduates next year. I absorb some of it, believing that if he’s following me around, he must really be bored.
“Charlie will get into college. I’ve got no doubt. He’s got some grand plan to get a scholarship for e-sports.”
“What’s an e-sport?”
“It’s playing sports online—you know, on different teams but affiliated with your school. It’s pretty cool. The best players can earn scholarship money.”
“And your brother’s good?”
“He’s kick-ass at it, which is awesome other than the fact that he’s obsessed. Like really obsessed. It’s a problem, and one of the reasons Sierra instituted outdoor time for the guys at the house.”
“What do you mean, ‘outdoor time’?”
“Oh, well, at least twice a week we have to go off the grid and do outdoorsy stuff. She says it’s good for all of us to get out there and breathe in nature and negative ions and work out our excessive energy.”
I watch him bounce on his toes. I have a feeling I know who she’s talking about with excessive energy. I do frown though and ask, “What’s a negative ion?”
“Hell if I know. I think it has something to do with water. Sierra is a huge fan of waterfalls.”
“And Supernatural.”
He glances at me. “You know SPN?”
“Uh, no, not really. Katie told me that’s what all the Wayward Sun stuff was about though, but to be honest, I’ve never seen it.”
“You’ve never watched Supernatural?” His eyes widen in shock.
“No. We didn’t have cable.”
He’s thinking hard for some reason and I use the opportunity to duck in the last room. I slip the paper on the counter and lock the door behind me.
“All done,” I say.
He stands across from me, his hand sliding through his hair, pushing it back. I wonder how soft it would feel between my fingers.
“Hey!”
We both look down by the office. Charlie’s standing on the porch with his phone out, thumbs moving quickly.
“Oh good, he’s finished.” He looks back at me and smiles. “Nice to meet you, Starlee.”
He offers me his hand and for a minute I stare at it, but then my senses come back and I shake it, limply. “Uh, you, too.”
He turns and jogs down the path to meet his brother and I realize in that moment that they’re the same age, size—twins? They speak to one another, I’m too far away to hear them but they both glance back in my direction—even Charlie, who drags his eyes away from the screen for two seconds before looking back down. Out of a distinct lack of knowing what to do, I focus on my shoes.
I don’t look back up until I’m sure they’re gone, back around the fence. I take a deep breath, feeling like I can breathe for the first time in an hour.
That night after dinner there’s a knock on the door. Leelee’s in her room and she asks me to get it. I look through the curtain and see George on the porch. My heart does a little nervous flip-flop but I open the door. Leelee hires these boys to work for her—they must be safe.
“Hi,” I say, noticing the pink square box in one hand and a something unidentifiable in the other.
“Hi.” He holds the box up. “Dexter wanted to send you the last Zasberry pie. I think it’s his way of apologizing for acting like a maniac in the street the other day.”
“Oh, well, he doesn’t need to apologize to me.”
“Take it anyway, Hollingsworth doesn’t need any more pie and I saw him eyeing this one at dinner.”
I accept the box and say, “Tell him thank you.”
I glance down at his other hand, wondering if that’s for me also. He notices and says, “Oh right. These are seasons one through five of Supernatural. I figured if you’re going to live next door to the Wayward Sun, you should get an idea of what’s going on.”
“You want me to watch all five seasons?”
He smiles. “Oh, no. That’s just the first five seasons. There are fourteen in all. You can get the rest when you’re done. Sierra is super weird about loaning them out, but I convinced her you were a safe bet. I mean, we know where
you live.”
This guy is a total goof and every word he says makes me like him a little bit more. I have zero interest in this crazy show but it’s a sweet gesture, so I take them and say, “I promise I’ll take care of them.”
“And watch them.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure. TV just isn’t one of my things. I wonder if there are any books? I’ll look later.
“Thanks for the videos and the pie.”
He grips the door with his arm and his long-sleeved, gray shirt tugs to his elbow. I see the script and the words “blood” and “family” leap out at me. Asking him about it is on the tip of my tongue but footsteps sound in the hall and I freeze. Am I going to get in trouble? Will George? I can’t imagine what my mother would do if a boy came to the door like this.
Leelee’s voice rings out.
“George? Everything okay? My alarm’s not going off again, is it?”
“No, ma’am.” He smiles down at me. There’s a deep dimple in his left cheek that I hadn’t noticed before. “Dexter sent over an apology pie.”
“Well that was sweet of him.” She takes the box from me. “Tell him thank you.”
“I will.” He winks, and I don’t know if it’s for me or my grandmother, but my whole body lights on fire and I have the distinct urge to run. Run so fast and so far. It’s stupid because he doesn’t notice, because George is a boy of constant movement. He’s already gone—jumped off the porch and headed back down the path. I close the door and notice my grandmother still standing there.
“Dexter has lived next door to me for two years. Not once has he sent me a pie.” There’s meaning behind her words and a glint in her eye. She nods at the videos in my hands. “What’s that?”
“It’s that show that Sierra likes so much. DVDs.”
“Ah, right. Well, you go put one in. I’ll get some forks.”
“I wasn’t—” I start, but she’s already headed to the kitchen. I wasn’t going to watch them but it seems like forces are conspiring against me. Or really maybe against my mother because it’s like her version of a nightmare. I think about this new and different world. Boys coming to the door. Pie and TV. A grandmother who takes it all in stride. It’s unsettling…and refreshing, just like everything else up here.
9
I do look to see if Jake is on the roof the next day.
I don’t panic when I confirm him out there.
I just zip up my hoodie and slide on my shoes and make my way around the house. I’m used to the climb up the trash can, my hands easily finding the grooves for leverage. I pull myself up, place my feet on the can and glance over, catching Jake’s eye.
Then I crash.
My foot plunges through the worn-out metal and I’m off balance, pitching backwards onto the grass, taking the extremely loud can with me.
“Starlee!” Jake whisper-yells as I lie on my back, staring at the sky.
“I’m okay,” I say, instantly feeling like it was too loud. I expect lights to come on but Leelee sleeps with a noise machine and I suspect she’s going deaf, anyway. I hear movement on the other side of the fence, an “ooof” and heavy footsteps. Two hands appear over the top of the fence and in a quick move, Jake flies over the fence and lands a few feet away. He instantly tugs at the trash can, pulling it carefully away from my leg.
“Did you actually just jump over that fence?” That seems ridiculous.
“Are you okay?” he asks, ignoring me and getting me free. Two worry lines slash across his forehead.
“Just super embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed is good. Broken is bad.”
“I don’t think I’m broken.” He offers me his hand and I stare at it for a moment before he simply grabs mine and pulls me up. His skin is warm, his palms rough. We’re eye to eye. “Well, maybe my butt. Yikes.”
“Come on,” he says, helping me off the ground. The first streaks of the sunrise appear in the sky.
I follow him, thinking I’m going to the porch, but he doesn’t let go of my hand and leads me down the path.
“Where are we going?” I ask, stopping suddenly, unlinking our hands.
“To my yard. We can still catch the sunrise.” His eyes flick to mine. “If you want.”
We’re near the edge of the yards, a small cut through between the properties. I don’t even know why I hesitate. Jake’s been nothing but kind to me. All of the boys have been. And it’s a sunrise. And he came to my rescue.
All of that is logical reasoning that make sense when I think them over clearly, when I look at his handsome, eager face, but my chest tightens and he must know because he says, “We can see it from here.”
We can, sort of, but the fact that he watches it with me and doesn’t push me to leave the yard means a lot. So much that by the time the sun creeps over the mountains, and our faces are bathed in pink light, my chest has loosened and the fears from before have completely vanished.
“See you tomorrow, Starlee,” he says, headed back to this house. I wonder if he’ll get his book and what it’s called, but his broad shoulders and halo of hair vanish before I get the nerve.
10
Leelee sends me down to June Lake for a trip to the bigger grocery store. I’ve got a list filled with everything we’ll need for the next few weeks. Grocery shopping was my job at home, too. For all her quirks, Mom did encourage me on day-to-day responsibilities. I knew how to go to the bank, get gas, drive a car. I could handle customer service and get my tires rotated. I was isolated but not incapable. It was my peers she was afraid of, not the old women at the grocery store on senior Tuesday.
This store is smaller than the one at home but still larger than the little market in Lee Vines, but it’s unfamiliar so I roll my cart through the store slowly, making sure I’m getting everything on the list.
It’s in the snack aisle that I spot them. I pause my cart and take in the four familiar guys of various height and sizes picking through the bags of chips and pretzels and tossing them in a cart. They’re all dressed in T-shirts and shorts. Tennis shoes or hiking boots.
Jake faces the opposite way, lifting a case of Gatorade over his head. I can’t help but eye his muscles.
“Red or yellow?” he asks.
“Blue,” George replies.
“That wasn’t an option.”
“Someone should make a case with all the flavors,” Charlie says, spinning around. He’s got two bags of popcorn in his hands.
“Just get one of ea—,” Dexter says, lifting his eyes from the package he’s studying. He turns and spots me lingering at the opening at the end of the aisle. I panic and push the cart forward, my heart racing. Why are these boys everywhere I go? I know the area is small, but really? This small?
I quickly turn down the next aisle, pretending I didn’t see them. That’s believable, right? I’m in a hurry. Wasn’t paying attention. When I finally focus on the products in the current aisle, I realize I’m in the pet food section. We don’t have a pet. I stop, planning on turning around, when two figures appear at the end of the row. I turn and two more figures are at the other side. I’m trapped. No faking it. No pretending.
“Hey guys,” I say, giving a little wave to George and Charlie at one end and Dexter and Jake at the other. They walk toward me and every inch of my skin prickles with apprehension.
“Hey Starlee, we thought it was you,” George says. “Well, Dexter thought it was you, and then I saw your red hair just before you walked off and I don’t know anyone with hair that color and—”
“Shopping for your grandmother?” Jake cuts him off and peers into my cart.
“Yes.”
“I wondered why she didn’t email me a list this morning,” Charlie says, pushing his glasses up his nose with one hand. His phone is clutched tight in the other.
“She emails you lists?” I ask.
“Ms. Nye doesn’t like driving down the mountain, so we usually grab her stuff for her.”
“Oh,” I say, realizing how very nic
e and, I guess neighborly, that is. “I guess that’s my job now. At least while I’m here.”
“How long are you staying for, anyway?” George asked. He’s wearing shorts with paint splatters on the hem and I notice several scars on his legs. One runs down the length of his shin, the other is deep and circular in his knee. Whatever caused them looked painful.
“Just for the summer.” Unless my mother decides otherwise.
“So, what have you seen?”
“Just the town.” I shrug and feel the heat of all their eyes on me at once. “I’m not very adventurous.”
George and Jake glance at once another. Charlie checks his phone. Dexter? I haven’t looked. I know I need to thank him directly. For helping me with Dugan and making me the pie and all the other little things from the past week, but something about him makes me even more uncomfortable than the others. I’m surprised when he speaks up and says, “Guys, leave her alone.”
“What?” I ask, not realizing they’d done anything.
Jake grins and it’s deadlier under the fluorescents than in the early morning light. “Sierra sends us out every week on a day trip. You should come. Experience the wonders of California while you’re here. We’re headed to Half Dome now.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
“Why not?” Charlie asks. I’m shocked that he’s even listening.
“I just said, I’m not very adventurous or athletic. Hiking or climbing or whatever you do seems like a bad idea.”
“It’s not all strenuous,” George says. “Even Charlie can do it.”
“Shut up,” his twin says, elbowing him hard. “Dick.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Dexter says, pushing the cart into the three guys standing there. “Go check out.”