Compulsion

by Martina Boone

  “He can handle it by himself,” Cassie said. “He’s a big boy. Or haven’t you noticed?”

  Jeannie’s face twitched into a grimace. “We’re sitting over there. Why don’t you and Eight come sit with us when you’re ready?”

  The emphasis had been very clear. Cassie looked like she’d been bitch-slapped, but pulled herself together as Jeannie walked away. She cut a look at Barrie and stalked toward the grill.

  “Drama queen,” someone muttered as she went.

  “What’s she doing here any—” someone else said, the last word cut short as if by an elbow to the ribs.

  Barrie couldn’t tell who had spoken. The faces around her all looked friendly.

  “You doing okay?” Eight dumped the cooler and chairs into a pile on the nearest stretch of empty beach. “Would you mind setting up the chairs? I’ve got one more load.”

  Barrie didn’t get the chance to tell him about Jeannie’s invitation. She would have to run after him. And he had left their things at the edge of the crowd, so now she stood by herself.

  It was her own fault for feeling out of place, she knew that, but it brought back memories of standing at the edge of the playground while the other kids played, and trying to pretend she didn’t care.

  Which would be worse, setting the chairs up where Eight had dropped them or carrying them over to where Jeannie was sitting? And what about Cassie?

  Cassie saved her the trouble of deciding. She unfolded a chair, spread a towel over it, and lowered herself to sit. “You’re looking a little green there, Cos,” she said too loudly. “You’re supposed to be sick while we’re sailing, not after you get off the boat.”

  Heads swiveled toward them. Barrie had a picture of herself once school started, going to classes with Cassie clinging to her side, Cassie driving everyone else away until it was the two of them at the edge of the crowd. Then Cassie would transform back into the shining girl Barrie had seen at Bobby Joe’s and the Resurrection. Barrie didn’t mind not being the center of attention. She didn’t want to be the center of attention. But she didn’t want Cassie to be her only friend.

  Eight would be gone, clear across the country when school started, and Mark would probably be gone then too. Barrie’s head throbbed. Tears pressed against her eyelids.

  Not here. She couldn’t start crying. She refused. But her lip was already trembling.

  Eight dropped the load of towels he was carrying. After hurrying the last few steps, he drew her toward him. “You can’t cry in front of Cassie,” he whispered, pulling up the fabric of Barrie’s tank dress. “Come on.”

  Barrie tried to hold the hem down, but he grinned and flicked the dress over her head. In one smooth motion he picked her up, turned toward the water, and carried her as if she had no weight.

  “What are you doing? Put me down. Right now. Eight! Stop it! I don’t want people looking at me. I want you to put me down.” Horror clawed at Barrie’s chest as Eight carried her into the water. “Let me go back.”

  Waist-deep in the waves, Eight launched her into the air.

  Water and panic closed around her, fast and dark. Arms flailing, Barrie opened her mouth to scream and ended up swallowing half the river. She kicked Eight in the chest before she realized it was help. Safety. He caught her and brought her up coughing and sputtering. She was mad enough that she almost kicked him again.

  “Oh, hell. I’m sorry, Bear.” He held her tight against him. “I thought it would help to loosen you up. You never said you couldn’t swim.”

  “Screw you.”

  “I’m going to fix this. Trust me. Just go with it, all right?”

  He lowered his head and kissed her before she could answer. Kissed her until she wasn’t sure if it was him or the fear of almost drowning that was making her head spin and her heart whirl.

  “There,” he said. “That’ll give everyone something else to think about.”

  “That’s why you kissed me?”

  “One reason.” His grin was quick and lethal. “Cassie wants to be accepted. She’s trying to make herself look good, and she’ll use your panic to put you down. But you aren’t weak.”

  He was right. Showing weakness was the signal for predators to pounce.

  Was that how Barrie thought of Cassie? When had her opinion changed?

  She started wading toward the beach, but Eight swept one arm under her knees and another beneath her back, and carried her out of the river to the accompaniment of whistles and applause. Bringing her head up, Barrie flashed a brilliant, carefree smile, and when Eight kicked open a chair and dropped her into it, she kept one arm wrapped around him, grabbed a towel, and threw it over his head. While his eyes were covered, she dug a handful of ice out of the cooler and pressed it to the back of his neck, wishing she were the kind of girl who would dare to put it down his shorts. Cassie would have.

  “You know I’ll have to get even now,” Eight said, laughing at her with approval.

  “Not if you can’t catch me.”

  Barrie spun away, feeling suddenly wild and unlike herself. Her footsteps pounded the sand in time with the pounding of her head. She refused to be prey.

  She grabbed the hand of a blond, bare-chested boy who stood nearby. “Dance with me,” she said, forcing a laugh. “I need protection.”

  She didn’t know where the nerve had come from, or what magic made the boy follow her to a bare stretch of sand at the water’s edge. The song had lyrics about zombies, and a heavy, monotone beat that pulsed right through her. She figured she looked half-dead anyway, so she went with it. The boy chuckled and joined in, stiff movements, arms outstretched, head bobbing and all, and before she knew it, other couples were zombie-shuffling on the sand beside them.

  Eight pulled up a chair. He gave her an encouraging nod. Then Cassie leaned over to whisper something. He shrugged, but didn’t answer.

  Barrie danced. When she was dancing, she didn’t have to talk to Cassie. She didn’t have to think. Didn’t have to feel anything except her loss-heavy body moving and the ache of the music. She could ignore that what she wanted most right then was to be back exactly where she had been earlier: with Eight at Watson’s Landing, driving under the cathedral canopy of oaks that, to her, was even better than the redwood groves. At Watson’s Landing she felt connected to Eight and to the earth and sky and trees, to Pru and the yunwi. To the Fire Carrier and the water that wrapped Watson’s Landing in a veil of magic.

  At Watson’s Landing she felt found instead of lost.

  Despite the piercing stab of the music and the sun that lanced through her eyes straight into her nerves, even through the dark sunglass lenses, she danced through lunch. She was long past the point of being tired, but she danced with the blond boy and with Eight, and with more boys than she had ever thought she would dance with in her life. She surprised herself. But all of it was killing time until she could safely ask Eight to take her home.

  Cassie tanned alone in her chair at the edge of the party. Finally she must have tired of waiting. She shimmied up beside Eight, her long limbs oiled and dangerously graceful. While her body was angled toward Eight, it was Barrie she addressed.

  “You look like you could use another swim to cool down, Cos. Or a comb. Did you remember to bring one? If not, I can loan you mine.”

  Cassie, of course, looked beautiful. All she had to do was flip that switch inside her that made her shine, and she became the center of attention.

  Then why had she been sitting alone?

  “Thanks, but I’m all right,” Barrie said.

  “Well, I hate to cut in on your fun. Are y’all about ready to go? I have to get back into my Scarlett slippers. I have another performance tonight.” Cassie turned to the group dancing around them and raised her voice to be heard above the music. “Barrie and Eight came to see my play last night.”

  The temperature chilled again, and this time Barrie knew it was Cassie and not her making everyone uncomfortable. What had happened to the Cassie she had seen at Bo
bby Joe’s and the Resurrection? The Cassie who’d seemed so comfortable. Now Cassie seemed to be trying much too hard. Was she nervous? Or was there something else going on?

  Barrie closed her eyes, disgusted with herself. Here she was, already pulling away from Cassie because that was easier than standing up for her cousin. “The play was great,” she said, speaking as loudly as Cassie had. “Have you all seen it? You should go. Cassie did a fantastic job writing and directing, not to mention acting. She ought to go to Hollywood.”

  “Oh, she’s going,” Jeannie said. “Hasn’t she told you? She’s sure told everyone else. She’s leaving the second she graduates, if not sooner, and she’s never coming back.”

  Barrie couldn’t help stiffening. She managed not to look at Cassie. Or Eight. How was it neither of them had mentioned that he and Cassie would be minutes away from each other in Los Angeles, or that they shared a desire to get away from Watson Island?

  “Maybe I won’t go after all.” Cassie’s eyes flashed with something Barrie couldn’t read. “I’m feeling more like sticking around here lately.”

  There was no mistaking the bitter note in her voice. For a moment everyone fell silent, and Barrie had a feeling she was missing something in the conversation. Then Cassie laughed and made a dismissing motion with her hand.

  “Now, what about that ride, Eight Beaufort? Are you going to take me home, or am I going to have to swim?”

  She walked off to get her things without waiting for an answer, which left Barrie and Eight with the awkward choice of following her or ignoring her. “Come on,” Barrie said. “Let’s go.” She grabbed Eight’s hand and waved to everyone. “It was great to meet you all.”

  “That’s ‘y’all,’ around here, sugar,” Jeannie said. “Or even ‘all y’all.’ But don’t worry, you’ll catch on. I’m having a cook-out at my house tomorrow night. Come on by for more lessons. Six o’clock, all right? You and Eight.” She didn’t look at Cassie, who clearly was not included in the invitation.

  “We’ll be there,” Eight said, without waiting for Barrie to agree. He snatched up the chairs and cooler and left Cassie still pulling clothes over her swimsuit. While her cousin combed out her hair, Barrie grabbed their stray towels and the bag Eight had left on the sand, and held them chest high while she waded into the surf. Eight dropped his own armful over the side, swung himself into the boat, and reached over to help her up.

  “You do know Cassie asking for a ride isn’t about her needing to get ready for the play, don’t you?” he whispered into Barrie’s ear. “She wants you to go back with her to search again.”

  “Permission to come aboard?” Cassie called from beside the boat. A second later the top of her head appeared at the ladder. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

  “And there’s my cue to cool off before I tear her apart.” Eight swooped in, gave Barrie a quick kiss, and did a cannonball off the side of the boat into frighteningly shallow water.

  Barrie held her breath until he came up shaking his head, spattering sunburst drops of water everywhere. It was the same way he’d shaken himself the first time—no, the second time—Barrie had ever seen him. That felt like a lifetime ago, and as good as he’d looked to her then, he looked a thousand times better now.

  She settled herself and pulled on her cover-up while he climbed back into the boat and went to get the anchor. Partway there, he stopped suddenly to study Cassie, making no attempt to disguise the fact that he was reading her. Then he rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. Barrie figured she might as well get it over with. She leaned back and watched as Cassie came and sat beside her.

  “This was fun, wasn’t it?” Cassie dug a tube of gloss out of her bag and offered it to Barrie, who shook her head, before shrugging and applying it to her lips. “It’s not really my crowd, but maybe next time Beth and Gilly can come.”

  Barrie exchanged a look with Eight.

  “I was thinking,” Cassie continued, twirling the gloss between her fingers, “that we could maybe go back over and have you try the Watson gift again, since we were interrupted last night. Daddy’s out with the fishing boat tonight, and he won’t be home until after nine, so the timing is kind of perfect, if you come right now. You wouldn’t run into him.” She gave a smiling, embarrassed little shrug. “I wouldn’t ask, but you saw how everyone was today. They treat me differently than they treat you and Eight. But if we could find the treasure, they would finally see us like we matter. Daddy could rebuild the old house, and we wouldn’t always have to feel like we aren’t good enough. . . . You see that, don’t you?” She leaned toward Barrie and put a hand on her arm.

  Barrie stared at the floor of the boat. The rocking motion churned her stomach as Eight got under way. She looked longingly at the seat beside him, trying to think how to answer Cassie. Because she still hadn’t decided. She stood up as Cassie dug for something else in her bag.

  “I need to think about it,” she said.

  “What’s there to think about? I swear, Daddy won’t be there. I promise.”

  “Don’t push me, all right? Now excuse me. I need to go tell Eight something.” She went and sat beside him before Cassie could say any more.

  “I take it she asked you.” Eight kept his voice soft. “What did you tell her?”

  “Nothing yet. What did she want just now, when you read her?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you, trust me. You know, this whole afternoon has been surreal. Cassie talked baseball to me the whole time you were dancing. In her own way, she really made an effort.”

  “Baseball?” Barrie wrinkled her nose, happy to talk about anything but Cassie.

  “Not a passion of yours?” Eight laughed at the expression on her face. “I can see I’m going to have to convert you before I leave for school. I can’t possibly date a nonbeliever.”

  “Baseball wasn’t a religion, last I checked. And who says we’re dating?”

  “Do you kiss many guys you aren’t dating?”

  “Not many, no.”

  “Are you intentionally trying to pick a fight?” Eight leaned in closer. “Nice try, but it doesn’t get you out of telling me what you plan to say to Cassie.”

  Barrie smoothed the fabric of her dress across her knees. “I don’t think I have a choice. You know she’s not going to stop asking until I show her what’s there. To be honest, I’m not sure I would stop asking if I were in her shoes. It shouldn’t take me long, though, and Wyatt’s out until late tonight.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Eight steadied the boat so Barrie could jump out. “I’m not going to argue with you,” he said.

  “There’s a first.” Barrie kept hold of his hand until her feet were firmly back on the Watson dock. She closed her eyes in relief, and the shadows danced around her, grabbing at her dress as if they were vying for her attention. She ignored them and glanced back at Cassie, who was still rowing downstream from the Beaufort dock back to Colesworth Place. “You didn’t have to brush her off so obviously, by the way. It would have made more sense to drop me here first.”

  “I didn’t want to be alone with her any more than you want me to be alone with her.”

  Barrie adjusted the bag on her shoulder and looked away. “Are you sure there isn’t a history between you two I need to know about? Something’s different between yesterday and today.”

  “You and I are different.” His eyebrow quirked at her in a way that was maddening and sexy all at once.

  “Okay, and what does that have to do with Cassie? Wait. Why are you looking at me like I’m as dumb as a box of rocks?”

  He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. “You are awfully cute when you’re clueless, Bear. Let me spell it out for you. The curse makes Cassie want what we want. So . . .”

  “She’s interested in you because I’m interested?” Appalled, Barrie watched Cassie climb out of the rowboat and tie it off at the dock beneath the columns. “You’re saying she doesn’t have a choice?�
��

  “I don’t know exactly how it works. I do know you need to hurry up if you’re going to be back here in half an hour. I’m not going to let you risk having Wyatt catch you over there.”

  “Let me? Hold on, buster—”

  “That didn’t come out right.” Eight held his hand up in surrender. “What I meant to say was: I’m going to call the harbor and make sure someone lets us know the second Wyatt is coming back with the boat, so we have time to avoid him. If you’ll go put on your reasonable shoes and do whatever else you need to do, I’ll be back to pick you up.”

  “Were you born this bossy, or is it something you cultivate? Because seriously, it’s not your most attractive quality.”

  “I’m going along with your crazy scheme, and you’re calling me bossy?” Eight gave her a mournful shake of his head. “You pick a mean fight, Bear. But I’m a Beaufort, remember? I know what you really want.” Tightening his arms, he bent his head and kissed her, briefly at first, but even as he started to pull away, he seemed to change his mind and deepened the kiss instead. Barrie wound her fingers in his hair as his hands moved to cup her face. His eyes were dark and dilated when he finally pulled away. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he said. “This all scares me, too.” Without looking at her again, he jumped back into the boat and grasped the rudder.

  Barrie watched the boat slip away. His words, the fact that her migraine was gone, and the relief of being back at Watson’s Landing all rolled through her with a rush and made her almost giddy. Her feet quickened to a run, and she raced the shadows toward the house. Mary was clearly afraid of them, but Barrie didn’t find them sinister. They seemed more like naughty children playing pranks. In an odd way, they were even comforting.

  Letting herself into the kitchen, Barrie nearly barreled into Mary, who was carrying a three-tiered serving dish loaded with miniature tarts, scones with butter and jam, and sliced cucumber sandwiches. A scone bounced onto the floor. Mary pushed everything else back in order.