The Tension of Opposites

by Kristina McBride

  Max and I stood and sidestepped into the slow-moving crowd. He threw his apple core into a nearby trash can, and when his shoulder bumped mine, I was tempted to turn my face toward him and take a deep breath. I was close enough to catch his scent without being too obvious.

  During the last month, since I no longer had to wonder about the location of Noelle, two new obsessions had taken over my life. Number one, which I spent most of my time on, was figuring out how to get to see Noelle. I was anxious to know if she had found my gift and I was trying hard not to be offended that she hadn’t called me yet. Number two, a secret that I would certainly die before sharing with anyone, ever, was how to get good whiffs of Max’s clean scent without his noticing. The effect had started to make me a little crazy.

  I gave in to temptation and was turning, ready for one sweet inhalation, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  “Check me,” a familiar voice said.

  Max chuckled, his brown eyes moving past me and settling on something just beyond my shoulder. “There’s something wrong with you, Darcy.”

  “I know,” she said, flipping her straight brown hair over her shoulder. “Check me.” When I looked at her, her lips were pulled back, revealing a mouthful of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth, with nothing stuck in the crevices.

  “You’re fine,” I said. “I’m going to get you a little mirror for your purse.”

  “Have one,” she said. “It’s not as trustworthy as a friend.”

  “So … you have a thing?” Max asked, pointing a long finger at his mouth, his parted lips, making me wonder what it would be like to kiss him. “With your teeth? A…preoccupation.”

  “Yeah.” Darcy crinkled her nose at him. “And my breath. If I’m not chewing gum, I don’t get too close to anyone.”

  “Yup.” Max nodded. “That’s a thing.”

  Darcy shrugged. “We all have things.”

  “I don’t,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Puh-lease,” Darcy said, choking a little.

  Max just laughed, his head tipping back in an easy way, those soft curls spilling and dipping into new places. I wanted to reach out and touch them. Instead, I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans.

  We made our way into the main hall and started passing a bank of senior lockers. Darcy, with one hand in her purse, was searching for an open pack of Strawberry Splash, definitely not watching where she was going.

  I’m not sure what happened, if there was something on the floor that tripped her up, or if she stubbed the pointy toe of her black boot, but Darcy stumbled into me. Hard. Which was okay, because I was pitched sideways into Max, who instinctively wrapped an arm around my waist, catching me.

  This, I realized, was the most beautiful opportunity to catch his scent, and I kind of collapsed into him, taking a deep breath. I felt a little dizzy with the thrill of being so near him. Until that thrill was knocked out of existence as we were jolted from behind. Harder than hard.

  “Watch it, loser,” a deep voice said.

  Max’s grip on my waist tightened, and we almost went down. For a split second, I kind of wished we had, so I could know what it might feel like to get all tangled up on the floor with him.

  But instead, we caught our balance as the hulking figure of Chip Knowles barreled past us. With each step, his thick shoulders swayed, and his Abercrombie jeans hugged his tight butt. As I stared beyond the 72 on the back of his football jersey, the reason he’d barged into us became clear.

  Twenty feet down the hall, Chip’s girlfriend, the Jessie Richards, stood with a guy. Her shimmery blonde hair was styled in this perfect, made-to-look-messy bun. Wisps fell around her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and sharp nose. The cheerleading uniform she wore bared her muscular arms, sculpted shoulders, and toned legs. I wondered if she went to a tanning bed every day of the week.

  I wasn’t up on all the latest gossip at Centerville High School, but everyone who had spent a few weeks in the building knew that the scene about to unfold would be gossip worthy. Even if the guy standing with Jessie was totally not her type. And trust me, this kid—with his tall, awkward body stooping forward, and the over-applied product in his perfectly combed hair—was lucky to be within speaking distance of the most popular senior in the building.

  “Who’s this?” Chip asked, using a deep, don’t-mess-with-me voice. He ran his fingers through his short golden-blond hair, tufting the front up in one swift movement.

  Jessie looked at Chip and raised her eyebrows. Her thin lips curled up slightly. The kid standing next to her said something I couldn’t hear and held a spiral notebook up in the air. I was impressed that he didn’t cower into the locker behind him but instead straightened himself, proving to be nearly Chip’s height. Chip yanked the notebook out of his hand and flipped through a few pages.

  “You got yourself a math geek?” Chip asked Jessie. “How sweet.”

  Jessie took the notebook from her boyfriend’s hand and gave it back to the kid standing next to her. She smiled and tossed her head to the side. The kid said something and then turned and hurried away.

  Max started walking. I did, too, because his arm was still wrapped around my waist.

  “Hey!” Max said.

  “Don’t.” I looked up at the curls that shadowed Max’s face.

  “But he can’t just—”

  “It’s not worth it,” I warned him. Max’s brown thermal shirt was soft against my forearm as he pulled away from me. I hated myself for wanting to melt into him. I seriously could not deal with these feelings. Not now.

  He looked at me, then turned to watch the most popular couple in school walk away. The crowd parted slightly as Chip slung an arm over Jessie’s shoulders and she tucked herself against his body. Her obscenely short cheerleading skirt swayed from one side of her firm little butt to the other, flouncing up enough to expose her matching bloomers with every few steps.

  “Hey, Darcy,” Max said a few minutes later as we dropped our things on our desks in photography class, “wanna see some pictures I took yesterday?”

  Darcy propped herself against her desk, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t like being used, Max.”

  Max’s lips parted in a mischievous smile. “Tess knows she’s welcome to join us.”

  Darcy sighed. Waved a hand in the air. “Go pull them up. I’ll be right there.”

  Max poked me in the shoulder as he passed. “I’d love to show them to you, too.”

  I sat down, shuffling through my folders like I had something important to do. “No strings?”

  “We’ve been doing this for weeks, Tess.” Max shook his head. “When you’re ready to show me your stuff, I’ll be glad to share mine.”

  He turned and walked away, leaving me there to stare after him.

  “Are you crazy?” Darcy stabbed me in the arm with her bony elbow. “He’s interested.”

  “No way.” I glanced over my shoulder and watched Max’s lean body fall into the computer chair, his sinewy arm reach for the mouse, his long fingers grip its frame. “But even if you’re right, I can’t get all twisted up over a guy right now.”

  “With Max, it wouldn’t be like that. You can just tell.” Darcy grabbed hold of my shoulder and turned me so I was facing her. “Stop. Pushing. Him. Away.”

  And then she left me sitting there, so very alone, positioning herself behind Max’s chair.

  “Ooh, that one is great,” Darcy said. I turned quickly and saw her prop one hand on her hip as she leaned over Max’s shoulder. She was wearing a dark pair of skinny jeans and had one foot slung out to her side, accentuating her long legs.

  “Nuh-uh,” she said. “How did you get that shot?” She laughed loudly and turned, looking right at me. These are good, she mouthed, pointing to Max’s back.

  I flipped my folder open and shuffled through my pictures. One of my favorites was of two girls on a wooden swing set, flying through the air, one a little higher than the other, their thin legs pumping sk
yward to get more lift. A few weeks ago, I’d hurried into my neighbor’s side yard when I heard their giggles, and crouched behind them in the cool grass to capture the moment.

  As much as I wanted to show him my pictures so I could take a look at his, my body wouldn’t move. The thought made me feel like I had to run to the nearest restroom to puke up my lunch.

  A few minutes later, Darcy and Max strode back to the desks that flanked mine.

  “Well, the two of you don’t know what you’re missing.” Darcy popped a bubble of her pink gum.

  “Don’t tell me,” Max said. “This whole hide-the-talent game is all Tess’s idea.”

  “It’s not my idea,” I said. “You say that like it’s a choice.”

  Max flashed me a crooked half smile. “Everything in life is a choice.”

  Darcy nodded. I kind of wanted to hit her. Why was she siding with him, anyway?

  “I’ve got a question.” Max ran a hand through his thick curls. I tried to ignore how hot he looked when he messed with his hair.

  “No,” I said. “You cannot see my pictures!”

  “Whoa, there.” Max reached out and placed his hand over mine. “Relax. This is a different subject entirely.”

  Darcy looked at our hands and chuckled as she reached into her purse. Scooting her phone several inches out of the opening, she hid it from Mr. Hollon, who was showing someone a new setting on a digital camera. Her fingernails were tick-tick-tick-ing against the keypad as she texted her boyfriend, something she did from photography class at least three times a day.

  “I’ve been hearing all kinds of stuff about some kidnapped girl,” Max said, removing his warm hand from mine.

  Darcy stopped texting. From the corner of my eye, I saw her turn and face me.

  “What’s up with that?” Max asked.

  Darcy opened her mouth. Started to speak. I cut her off.

  “A girl was kidnapped from a park around here a couple of years ago.” I worked to keep my voice steady. “They found her, and now she’s home.”

  Max splayed his hands in the air. “That’s it?” he asked. “I’ve gotten more information walking through the halls.”

  “Ugh, I know,” Darcy said. “It’s obnoxious. Did you hear the whole vampire thing?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t think I want to.”

  “It borders on hilarity, really. Classic tale of vampire preying on girl, girl changing, and voilà, needing the source of her violation.” Darcy pointed a finger in the air. “The story, I believe, is an infantile attempt to make sense of Noelle waiting two years to escape when she seemed to have the opportunity—”

  “No one knows what really happened,” I said. Which killed me, because I was supposed to be Noelle’s best friend.

  “Some jerk in my math class was saying that she wanted to be with the guy.” Max’s voice quieted down to a near whisper. “I saw an interview with some people from the neighborhood where she’d been staying. She was seen out in public all the time, and everyone thought he was her father.”

  “I don’t understand any of that,” I said, shaking my head, trying for the millionth time to flip the information around in my mind so it would make sense. “All I know is that no matter how free she seemed, she couldn’t have gotten away until now or she would have.”

  “Right. I’m sure.” Darcy widened her eyes at Max and nodded toward me. “Tess and Noelle, the girl who was kidnapped, they were, like, BFFs.”

  I could not think about Noelle now. Not here. I glanced at my desktop, at the words etched in the wood. Run, baby, run, it urged me.

  “I didn’t …,” Max sputtered. “I had no idea.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “I mean, it’s kind of like an accident, right? People want to know about it, see it up close. But only if it doesn’t touch their lives.”

  “Have you talked to her yet?” Darcy asked. Suddenly, the photography classroom seemed quiet. Too quiet, like everyone was waiting for my response. “It’s been three weeks, hasn’t it?”

  “Four. And no, I haven’t talked to her yet,” I said. “All I know is the same stuff you do from the news.”

  “I can’t imagine,” Max said, “how awful it must have been when she went missing.”

  “I’m just ready for people to stop talking about it.” I stabbed my notebook with my pen.

  “Um, do I need to remind you that Noelle’s kidnapping practically stopped every form of life here in Centerville two years ago?” Darcy tapped her desk with a fingernail, punctuating her words.

  “What’s that mean?” Max asked. “What was so different before?”

  “Oh, everything.” Darcy shrugged. “This used to be your typical little Midwestern town. People didn’t feel like they had to lock their doors or watch their kids when they went out to play. The kidnapping choked our entire town with sadness. And fear.”

  I crossed one leg over the other, wishing Darcy would stop talking.

  “Huh,” Max said with a nod. “I understand that the people who knew her and her family would be affected. But the whole town?”

  “Trust me. Her experience has touched everyone. People all over the country, really. My cousin from Oregon called the other day to see if I know her. And now there’s going to be some trial that’ll be covered by about a zillion reporters who’ll tromp in from all over. I’m sorry to tell you, but people are going to be on this all freaking year, Tess.” Darcy gave an exaggerated shiver. “Plus, there’s the whole creep factor. No one can imagine what it was like for her.”

  I realized that my foot was shaking back and forth in a violent manner and tucked it behind the leg of my desk.

  Max had been staring at me as Darcy spoke. “I bet you’re dying to talk to her,” he said softly.

  “Yeah. I can’t wait.” I reached into my purse and pulled out my camera. I ran my fingers along the frayed strap, pressed the chipped bottom edge into the palm of my hand, pulled the forty-year-old camera to my chest. “But the thing is, I’m kinda freaked out. I don’t know what I’m going to say. I mean, what if everything I think of is just wrong?”

  “When you see her, you’ll do fine,” Darcy said confidently. “Sorry it’s been so rough.”

  “It’ll have to die down sometime, right?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Of course it will,” Max said. “Eventually.”

  I flung the Nikon’s strap over my head and stood, needing to get away from the conversation, away from my own brain, which was screaming this warning that when I had my chance, I was bound to screw it up. “I’m gonna go take some pictures.”

  Max reached for his camera. “Want some company?”

  “Nah.” I shook my head.

  “You sure?” Darcy asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “But thanks.” I turned, walked to Mr. Hollon’s desk, and grabbed a pass.

  When I made my way into the hall, I took one last glance into the room before I closed the door behind me. The first thing I saw was the top of Max’s head as he shuffled through pictures on his desk. Then there was Darcy’s hand perched on Max’s shoulder as she bent forward to stare at what he wouldn’t share with me.

  Saturday,

  October 10

  6

  My Name Is Elle

  I sat at my computer, staring at the screen. I felt like throwing up and crying and screaming all at the same time. But the only thing I could do was blink at the words in front of me and hope they would somehow disappear.

  I’d been excited when I’d sat down, sliding a memory chip out of the digital camera I’d borrowed from Mr. Hollon and popping it into the little slot in the tower standing next to my desk. My parents had been trying to talk me into a digital camera for over a year, and maybe they were right. A digital camera would be fun to have so I could see my pictures immediately. Like the one I’d snapped of Max yesterday in class.

  But it felt like some kind of betrayal. My grandfather’s Nikon was sacred, a physical link to the man I missed so much, and I
would not let my parents talk me into putting it aside for some newer, better version. This week, I hadn’t had a choice. Mr. Hollon’s latest assignment required a digital image.

  Impatient with the length of time it was taking for the photographs to download to the folder on my desktop, I’d clicked on the Internet icon and watched as the Yahoo page popped up.

  I don’t really know what I thought I’d see, maybe news of the latest celebrity breakup. All I can say is that I wasn’t ready for what appeared.

  The first thing I noticed were the eyes. Deep and black. Lifeless. Staring right at me.

  Then the matted hair, the scruffy face, the thick chin.

  Charlie Croft.

  My computer made a plinking sound to let me know that the download was complete, and I snapped out of it long enough to catch the headline and skim the body of the article. That’s what really did it, what brought on the whole freak-out feeling that kind of fuzzed the edges of my hearing and sight. Pulling me away from reality for a few minutes and threatening to sink me into one of my panics.

  I looked away. Took a deep breath. Waited until my hearing came back, which felt like swimming to the surface after plunging far into the deep end of a pool, and then I looked again.

  The headline hadn’t changed. ONE OR MANY? it asked.

  The words that followed also remained the same:

  In a press conference held late yesterday afternoon, Cuyahoga County prosecutor Ronnie Pundt announced that Charles Croft, who has been charged with kidnapping a minor, will face an additional twenty-seven felony counts, including rape and producing child pornography.

  Sheriff Paul Shott stated that new investigations regarding Croft are under way. After searching evidence taken from Croft’s home, it is suspected that he is responsible for the disappearance of at least four other minors from the tristate area in the last sixteen years.

  On September 10, Croft pleaded not guilty on the charge of kidnapping. He is being held at the Montgomery County Jail on a $1 million cash-only bail.

  The case is still under investigation.