Phil cantered up on Teddy. “Are you two finished goofing around?” he asked, pretending to be stern. “Can we continue our ride now?”
“Sure, Dad.” A.J. winked at Stevie. “Hold on a sec, though, okay? All that racing made me thirsty.”
“Give me a break,” Phil said. “Crystal was the one doing all the work.”
“I know.” Reaching around to unzip the top closure of his backpack, A.J. pulled out a Thermos bottle. “It made me thirsty just watching her.”
Stevie felt a sharp, sudden stab of suspicion. The last time A.J. and Phil had hung out together, A.J. had brought along a flask of liquor and spiked his soda. Did he have something similar in mind for today? “Hey,” she said as casually as she could manage. “I don’t feel like digging out my soda. Can I have a sip of yours?”
“Sure,” A.J. said. “But it’s not soda.” He held out the Thermos.
Stevie felt her heart stop. “Um, what is it then?” she asked carefully, taking Blue’s reins in one hand as she accepted the Thermos. Beside her, she could sense that Phil, too, was tense and paying close attention, waiting for A.J.’s response.
“It’s that new fruit drink,” A.J. replied, wiping his lips with the back of one riding glove. “You know, the one that hockey player advertises on TV? It’s called Tooty Fruity.”
“Oh.” Stevie immediately felt foolish. “Right, I’ve had that before. Alex drinks it sometimes.” Still, she lifted the Thermos to her lips and took a quick drink. The flavors of apple, cherry, and kiwi, strongly laced with sugar, flooded her taste buds. It was definitely Tooty Fruity—there was no mistaking the taste.
She handed the Thermos back to A.J., carefully avoiding Phil’s gaze. If the two of them started trading meaningful glances, A.J. was sure to notice. Then they could forget about getting him to talk to them.
“Thanks,” she told A.J. “That hit the spot.”
A.J. nodded, took another long, thirsty swig, and then replaced the Thermos in his bag. “Okay,” he said. “Now let’s hit the trail!”
EIGHT
“Hi,” Alex said when Lisa opened the door. “Wow, you look amazing!”
Lisa smiled, suddenly feeling a bit shy. She glanced down self-consciously at her slim black pants and pale blue fitted sweater, which flattered her slender figure and delicate coloring. “Thanks,” she said. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“Aw, this old thang?” Alex joked, waving a hand at his usual outfit of jeans, sneakers, and a rugby shirt.
“I’m not talking about your clothes,” Lisa replied, stepping out onto the front porch and pulling the door closed behind her. “I’m talking about you.”
“Ah,” Alex said, taking one of her hands in his own and tugging her gently toward him. “I see.”
Lisa closed her eyes as he kissed her. This is what I’ve been missing, she thought. This is what I need.
When they pulled apart, though, Lisa still felt oddly unsettled, as though there were something else they should be saying or doing to mark the occasion. Doing her best to ignore that feeling, she jangled her car keys in front of him. “Ready to go?”
“Like Freddie,” he replied, stepping aside to let her walk beside him down the narrow front walk. He cast her a sidelong glance as they reached the car. “By the way …” He paused and cleared his throat. “I just want you to know—I’ve been thinking about you a lot for the past few days. More than usual, even, I mean. I hope you’re doing okay.”
Lisa knew he was thinking of Prancer. She smiled at him gratefully, reaching out to brush a loose eyelash off his cheek. “I’m trying,” she said. “Thanks. I’ll let you know if I need to talk, okay?”
He nodded, looking slightly relieved. They had reached the car, so he opened the driver’s side door for her and then went around to the passenger’s side and slid in himself.
Lisa started the car and backed out of the driveway. Turning toward town, she felt herself relax. It was crazy to feel as if she were escaping from her problems, but she couldn’t help it. At least for a few hours, she wouldn’t have to deal with her parents or sit alone and think about Prancer. She could just enjoy herself and have fun with Alex.
“Okay,” she told him, glancing over as she drove. “This is your last chance to back out—otherwise we’re headed to the museum.”
“Drive on,” Alex replied cheerfully. “I can’t wait to get to the good old Wicma.”
Lisa grinned at his use of the local nickname for the Willow Creek Museum of Art, or the WCMA. Despite its rather grand name, the museum was really just a few rooms in a Victorian mansion near the business district that housed a small permanent collection of local paintings and sculpture along with changing exhibitions of works loaned by wealthy patrons and other small regional museums.
A few minutes later Lisa pulled into a free parking space on the quiet, shady street where the museum stood. She and Alex got out of the car and strolled up the cobblestone walk arm in arm.
Lisa sighed happily when she saw the poster advertising the current special exhibition of modern sculpture. When she was younger, Lisa had taken art classes—sculpting, drawing, water-color painting, and more. The only art form she still practiced on a regular basis was photography, but all those classes had left her with a real appreciation for all the visual arts. She loved spending a free afternoon wandering around a museum, whether it was the National Gallery in nearby Washington, D.C., or just the WCMA. It didn’t even matter if she’d seen every painting in a gallery many times before. She always seemed to find something new to observe.
Unfortunately, despite her best efforts to educate him, Alex didn’t share her fascination. He had a pretty good ear for music, but the visual arts left him cold. Lisa was happy that he cared enough about her to accompany her to the museum that day, and she vowed to return the favor by not making them stay too long.
“Let’s go straight to the new exhibition, okay?” she suggested as they entered the cool, dim tiled entryway of the old mansion. Other than an elderly woman paging through a magazine behind the ticket table, the place was empty. “I don’t feel like seeing anything else today.”
Alex nodded agreeably, then stepped forward to pay their entrance fees. “Okay,” he said, rejoining Lisa a moment later. “Let’s go see us some art!”
Lisa rolled her eyes apologetically at the woman behind the ticket table, hoping she didn’t think Alex was making fun of the museum. Then she followed him into the front gallery, formerly the double parlor of the big old house. Nobody else was inside, and their footsteps echoed off the gleaming tile floor.
Several sculptors were represented in the exhibition, most of them from northern Virginia or the surrounding areas. Lisa took Alex’s hand and wandered toward the first piece, a large twisted-metal sculpture displayed on a low pedestal.
“Whoa,” Alex said, cocking his head to one side and examining it. “Looks like this one got run over by somebody’s car on its way here.”
“Very funny.” Lisa stuck out her tongue at him, then turned back toward the piece. “I like it. It has a lot of energy, don’t you think?”
“Maybe if you pushed it down a hill,” Alex joked. He dropped her hand and left her side to wander around and look at some of the other pieces.
Lisa moved around the room more slowly, gazing at each sculpture and reading the accompanying signs. When she caught up with Alex he was standing in front of a massive red clay piece. Lisa glanced at it and blinked. The sculpture seemed to portray two figures, their plump red limbs intertwined suggestively.
“Yikes,” she said with a slightly embarrassed laugh. “Is that what I think it is?”
Alex grinned and pointed to the sign, which proclaimed that the piece was titled In the Flesh. “I’m no art critic,” he said. “But I know what I like.” He leered at her playfully and slipped one arm around her shoulders. “So,” he said, squeezing her tight. “Does it give you any ideas?”
Lisa wriggled free, glancing around to make sure nobody was
watching. “Ha ha,” she told him pertly. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”
Alex laughed, then trailed after her as she continued making her way around the room. When they had checked out the entire exhibition, Lisa glanced at her watch.
“Ready to go?” she asked Alex. “We can head over to the mall and buy your shoes before dinner if you want.”
“Sounds good,” Alex agreed. “Let’s motor.”
It was a fifteen-minute drive from the museum to the Willow Creek mall on the outskirts of town. Lisa and Alex spent the first couple of minutes of the ride chatting about the art exhibition. Then Alex asked Lisa about her day at school.
Lisa shrugged. “It was fine,” she said. “The usual. Well, except that my English teacher has gone totally insane. Not only did we just turn in a paper on Frankenstein today—now she wants us to read Ethan Frome over Thanksgiving break and write a five-pager on it by the time we get back.”
She regretted the words immediately. Why did I have to bring up Thanksgiving? she wondered as she glanced over and saw Alex frown slightly. He’d always had trouble with her visits to California—partly because he hated being separated from her for any length of time, and partly because he was jealous of her friendship with Skye Ransom, an actor who lived near her father in Los Angeles.
“My teachers are assigning tons of stuff for the break, too,” Alex said carefully, keeping his gaze trained out the windshield. “Of course, it’s not really a problem for me. I’ll have plenty of time to do it, hanging around home all week.”
“Uh-huh.” Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Lisa searched for a good way to change the subject quickly. The last thing she wanted to do was turn their relaxed, pleasant date into some kind of tense standoff. “Um, so did Stevie go over to see Phil and A.J.?”
Alex nodded. “Yeah, she left just before I came over to get you,” he reported, sounding relieved at the new topic. “She seems pretty worried about A.J.”
“I don’t blame her,” Lisa said, her grip on the wheel relaxing. Obviously Alex had no more interest in fighting about her trip to California than she did. That was a good sign. “I mean, I know he had a lot to drink at the party at your house. But it wasn’t until I saw him sitting at the bar in that college restaurant that I started to wonder if there was a real problem. You know?”
“Sure. But you know Stevie. She’s determined to ride in on her white horse”—he laughed—“literally, except for the white part—and fix everything.”
“Maybe she can do it,” Lisa said optimistically. “I really think it would help A.J. a lot if he would just open up and trust somebody with what he’s feeling. And if there’s one thing your sister is good at, it’s getting people to talk to her.”
At that moment, Stevie was beginning to wonder if A.J. was ever going to shut up about his girlfriend, Julianna, and her upcoming role in some school play. They had been riding for almost an hour and were deep in the woods, following a winding trail that meandered along beside the river. At first the three of them had talked casually about school and other general subjects. But then A.J. had taken over the conversation, insisting on sharing every detail of Julianna’s victorious tryout. Stevie was starting to feel impatient—so far, the topic of A.J.’s adoption hadn’t even come up. Neither had his recent drinking spree. Maybe those things weren’t at the front of A.J.’s mind at the moment, but they were all Stevie could think about.
“Come on,” she said, interrupting a monologue about Julianna’s wonderful singing voice, “I think the horses could use a rest and a drink. Why don’t we stop and have dinner?”
“Good idea,” Phil agreed quickly. He glanced down toward the river. “There’s a spot just ahead with a nice view. We’ll have to be careful, though—the current is kind of strong along here, so we shouldn’t let the horses wade in too far.”
“Yeah, good plan,” A.J. said with a grin. “Especially since we totally forgot to bring their bathing suits, and I happen to know for a fact that there’s no skinny-dipping allowed in the state park. Hyuk hyuk hyuk!”
Stevie shot him a quick glance. A.J. had always been something of a clown, but for the past few minutes, when he wasn’t bragging about Julianna, he’d been making goofy comments that weren’t really all that funny. If the temperature hadn’t been so cool and pleasant, especially under the shade of the old-growth forest, she might have thought he was getting overheated and light-headed from exertion. “Speak for yourself,” she said, deciding he was probably just letting off steam and acting silly. And where was the harm in that? “I have Blue’s polka-dot bikini right here in my saddlebag.”
A.J. thought about that for half a second. Then he started laughing so hard that Stevie was afraid he was going to fall right out of the saddle. “Good one, Stevie!” A.J. hooted, slapping one hand on his knee so hard that Crystal flicked her ears back at the sound.
Stevie glanced over at Phil, who shrugged, looking worried. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you guys the spot I was talking about.”
He led the way off the trail, pointing out a grassy clearing where they could let the horses rest after their drink. Ten minutes later the three of them were busy setting out their own picnic dinner on a rock overlooking a small, tumbling waterfall. The long ride had made Stevie hungry, and she spent the next few minutes focusing on the sandwiches and sodas she’d brought. But when her stomach had stopped grumbling, her attention turned back to A.J. So far the ride was a total bust. It was time for her to say something about the reason they were all out here, whether he wanted to hear it or not.
Taking a deep breath, Stevie decided to plunge right in. “Listen, A.J.,” she said seriously. “Phil and I were hoping we’d get a chance to talk to you today. You know, about all the stuff that’s been going on in your life lately. We know you aren’t that psyched about discussing it with people, but we want to remind you that we’re your friends. We care about you a lot, and we hate to think you may be hurting and there’s nothing we can do to help.”
She paused to see how A.J. was taking her words. The way he’d been acting lately, there was no telling how he might respond. But to her surprise, A.J. didn’t seem to be paying attention. He was munching on potato chips, staring up at the sky blankly.
Phil noticed, too. “Yo,” he said to A.J. “Did you hear what she just said?”
“Did I hear her? What am I, deaf?” A.J. let out a high-pitched giggle and rolled his eyes. “Come on, dude—you’re her boyfriend. You know better than anyone that she’s got the biggest mouth on the planet!”
Stevie wasn’t sure quite how to take that. It certainly wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting, and judging by the perplexed expression on Phil’s face, he felt the same way. Still, she plunged on with her speech. “So anyway, we just hope you’ll come to us if you need to talk things through,” she said. “We might not be able to understand exactly what you’re going through, but we’ll certainly try to be—”
She stopped short as A.J. tipped his head back and took another long swig from his Thermos. Suspicion crept through her veins like a sudden chill on a warm day. But she had tasted the contents of that Thermos herself. The only thing in it was the overly sweet fruit drink. At least that was all she’d tasted.…
At that moment Phil suddenly leaped forward. “Excuse me,” he said grimly, snatching the Thermos before A.J. knew what was happening. “Let me see that.”
“Hey!” A.J. cried. But he didn’t seem very upset. In fact, he was grinning broadly. “If you want a sip, all you have to do is ask. You don’t need to get grabby.”
Phil ignored him. Raising the Thermos to his nose, he sniffed carefully. Then he shot A.J. an uncertain glance. “Smells like Tooty Fruity all right,” he said. “Is that all that’s in here?”
A.J. giggled again and squinched up his face—he’d never been able to manage a proper wink. “Well, now that you mention it,” he said teasingly, “there was a bottle of vodka sitting around when I filled it. I suppose it’s possible a few
drops might have fallen in, purely by accident, of course.”
Vodka! Stevie grimaced, realizing she’d been had. Vodka was flavorless—that was why she hadn’t tasted it when she’d taken a sip earlier, especially in the strongly flavored fruit drink A.J. had used as a mixer.
All this time he’s been guzzling his fruit cocktail right under our noses, she thought, watching as Phil tilted the Thermos and poured out the rest of the drink. Not much came out—A.J. had already swallowed most of it.
Stevie traded a grim look with Phil. Their plan had backfired in a big way. Not only was it useless to try to talk to A.J. now, but they were going to have to figure out a way to deal with the situation. They were on horseback, miles from civilization. Dusk would be falling before too much longer.
And A.J. was totally wasted.
NINE
Callie was focusing so intently on keeping her right leg straight in Windsor’s stirrup that it took her a while to notice Ben Marlow, who was leaning on the top rail of the main schooling ring, watching her. When she finally saw him, she couldn’t help feeling a little self-conscious. Normally she didn’t care if people watched her sessions—Max regularly stopped by to check on her progress, and Carole, Stevie, and her other friends had come to lend their support often enough. But Ben had a way of looking at people that was a little disconcerting—his dark, serious eyes beneath their heavy brows never seemed to give away what he was thinking. Besides that, Callie was still smarting over Veronica’s comments the day before in phys ed. It had never been easy for Callie to be the center of attention. She had missed inheriting that particular gene from her gregarious, spotlight-loving parents, though Scott had it in spades. The only time she was happy to have people looking at her, noticing her, praising her was after a race. That was when she knew she’d earned their attention, rather than commanding it simply by the coincidence of her birth.
It’s not like Ben is the type of guy to be impressed by money or family connections, though, she reminded herself as she nudged Windsor and sent him slowly toward the gate. So no big deal, right? Ben’s just watching you, that’s all. She wondered if her upcoming return to Valley Vista had anything to do with her sudden paranoia. She suspected that it probably did.
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