by Mia Sheridan
So why couldn't I stop thinking about her?
Stupid. Idiotic.
After a little bit, I dragged my backpack up on my bed and got my textbooks out. I had to stay on track. I only had six months until the school announced the winner of the scholarship that would get me out of this godforsaken shithole, away from the hopelessness, away from the hunger, away from the mine where my father and older brother had lost their lives in the pitch blackness miles under the earth.
**********
I spotted Tenleigh a few days later as she walked ahead of me toward the road leading to our homes. She had a book in her hands and was reading as she walked. Stupid girl—she was going to trip and break her neck. I lagged behind, watching her as she walked. I guessed I owed her a little something for what she'd done for me. I could make sure she got home safe from school. And I'd make sure she didn't see me. I'd make sure I never spoke to Tenleigh again. It was just better that way.
I startled slightly when she suddenly took a turn onto a forest path. What the hell? I stood on the road for a minute watching her disappear into the woods. That girl would deserve it when a bobcat ate her. I let out a frustrated breath and followed her.
I'd been down this trail before. I'd been down every trail on this mountain either with my brother when he'd still been alive, or on my own. But I had no idea what Tenleigh was doing because there was nothing this way except for the abrupt edge of a limestone cliff.
After five minutes or so of trudging along the narrow path, I came out through the trees. Tenleigh's back was mostly to me as she stood staring out at the setting sun, the horizon glowing orange and yellow, white rays emerging from the clouds as if heaven had broken through.
The colorful sky stretched before us—magnificent—as if it was trying to make up for the ugliness of our lives, our constant struggles. And for just the briefest, most fleeting of moments, maybe it did. If only I could grasp it and make it stay. If only I could grasp anything good and make it stay.
Tenleigh sat down on a rock and looked out at the glowing sunset. I began walking toward her and her head turned to me abruptly as she let out a little shriek, bringing her hand to her chest, her eyes wide. "Good gosh! You scared me! Again. What is it with you?"
"Sorry." I went and sat down next to her.
She rolled her eyes and leaned back, putting her hands behind her on the rock, staring out at the sky once again. She remained quiet for a minute. Finally she looked at me, raising one eyebrow. "I suppose you think if you keep showing up where I am, eventually I'll fall in love with you."
An amused laugh bubbled up my throat, but I remained serious. Tenleigh constantly surprised me. And I loved it. I nodded. "Very probable."
Or worse, I'll fall in love with you.
She laughed softly, staring back out at the horizon. "I'm sorry to tell you, it won't happen. I've sworn off men."
I made a chuffing sound in the back of my throat. "That's what they all say."
She looked at me, amusement dancing in her eyes, lighting up her face. "Hmm, so how long do you figure I have before I succumb to your mesmerizing charms?"
I pretended to consider. "One of my conquests held out for three weeks once."
"Ah. She sounds like a tough cookie." She cocked an eyebrow and looked at me out of the corner of her eye. "How will you know when I've buckled?"
"It's a look, something in the eyes. I've come to know it well." I gave her my most obnoxious smirk.
She shook her head as if in exasperation, but the small smile remained on her lips.
I cleared my throat. This flirting needed to stop. "No, but really, I'm just making sure you don't require my bobcat-fighting skills. I kinda figure I owe you that, if anything."
She let out a breath and shook her head. "You don't owe me anything. I got myself fired from my job. It wasn't your fault I did what I did."
"Yeah, but you wouldn't have had to do what you did if I hadn't been stealing sandwiches for old drunks."
"Hmm," she hummed, "so then I expect this will be a regular thing? The bobcat protection service? I mean, until I throw myself at your feet and you cast me aside like all the rest of your victims . . . er, conquests?" she finally asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly again.
I shook my head. "Regular? No, no, definitely not. This is the last time I put myself in potential bobcat harm for you." I ran my hand through my hair. "It's just that I usually study at school as late as I can. I walk home about this time every night anyway. This was just a coincidence."
She tilted her head. "Oh, I see. Why do you stay at school to study?"
"It's not so lonely." I didn't know what made the words fall from my mouth. I didn't even realize I'd said them until they were out.
Tenleigh looked at me curiously. "Don't you live with your mama?"
"My mama's not much for conversation."
Tenleigh studied me for a moment. "Hmm . . . well, this really is the last time you'll be protecting me from a possible bobcat threat then. I'm only walking home this late because I was asking about a job at Al's."
"Al's? You're too young to work in a bar."
She shrugged. "Al doesn't seem to mind. My sister works there—he said I could pick up extra shifts. So see," she smiled at me, "you don't have to feel guilty about me getting fired. I've already got a new job. On-call anyway."
I scowled, something strange moving into my chest. Al's was a shithole—and a known pick-up place. Still, it was good she'd gotten a job. Around here, that wasn't easy to do. After a minute, she turned to me. "Quite a view, huh?"
I looked out to the sky. "Best seat in the house."
A look of peace came over Tenleigh's face as she gazed at me, her lips parted, and for just a second, I almost couldn't breathe. Did I think this girl was beautiful? I was wrong. She's stunning.
Some form of panic rose in my chest.
"So, I suppose you want to know my story?" she asked after a moment.
"What?" I asked, snapping back to reality. "No, I don't want to hear your story. I told you . . ."
"Right. You don't want to carry any useless information with you when you leave, but, see, I've got a really interesting one."
I raised one brow at her suspiciously. "There are no interesting stories in these parts, just weary, never-ending tales of tragedy and woe. And toothlessness."
She laughed a short laugh and shook her head, her light green eyes shining. Her skin was aglow in the sunset, glints of gold coming off her brunette hair. When she looked away, I allowed my eyes to roam to her breasts. My dick surged to life in my jeans and I shifted uncomfortably. "Not mine. And really, I shouldn't tell you this, but well . . ." She continued looking out at the horizon and I studied her profile. "In truth, Kyland, my father is a Russian Prince." She raised her eyebrows and looked around as if checking to make sure no one was around. "There's a squabble going on regarding my father's title, and land ownership." She waved her hand through the air. "It's all very complicated and involves all sorts of Russian aristocracy laws that you wouldn't understand, but in the meantime, my father is hiding us here where he believes we're safest until his estate has been settled." She leaned toward me. "I know my trailer looks humble, but it's all a ruse. Inside, although it's small, it's wall-to-wall luxury. And," her eyes widened, "it's where the royal family jewels are hidden." She winked at me and I burst out laughing. She was being ridiculous. And I loved it. How long had it been since I'd just been . . . silly? Her eyes widened as she took in my expression and then she grinned back.
We stared at each other for a minute, something flowing in the air between us. I looked away first, unsettled again.
"Royal family jewels, huh? You so sure you can trust me with that information? I'm already a known sandwich-bandit."
She tilted her head. "Yeah," she said softly, seriously. "I've got a feeling you're mostly trustworthy."
We stared at each other for several beats again, something quickening inside me. Something that felt dangerous—something
I didn't exactly recognize, but something I wasn't sure I liked at all. I needed to break the damn spell.
"I trust you with my family jewels, too," I finally said, winking, trying to lighten the sudden, strange mood between us. "I'd like to show them to you sometime."
Tenleigh leaned her head back and laughed. I had wondered what her full-out laughter sounded like, and now I knew. And I suddenly understood that it would have been better if I didn't. So much better. Because I wanted to lose myself in the sound of that laughter. It alarmed me and that same feeling came into my chest again, only now increasing. I sat up straighter, something instinctual telling me I needed to run.
Her expression seemed to change as if she could sense my inner turmoil. Ridiculous. She stood and I squinted up at her. "Come here," she said, turning her back on me. "I want to show you something."
I stood up and followed behind her to a large rock. I watched as she went to the front of it and ducked down, disappearing somewhere. I leaned over cautiously and saw a tiny, dark cave. Anxiety swept through my body, and I stumbled backward. Tenleigh peeked out, a smile plastered across her face.
"Come in. It's big enough for the both of us. I want to show you something."
"No," I said, a bit more harshly than I meant to. The smile disappeared from her face and she "walked" out, nearly squatting as she shuffled along. She stood up and looked at me worriedly. I realized that my hands were fisted by my sides, and my body was tensed. I relaxed, shoving my hands in my pockets.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Do you not like small spaces? I—"
"It's no big deal," I said, dismissively.
She put her hand on my shoulder timidly and I jolted at the contact, squeezing my eyes shut for a second and then opening them. I pulled away.
She watched me acutely for just a moment. "There are some drawings on the wall in there," she finally said and shrugged. "Really, really faint and most likely something someone did recently, but who knows. Maybe a cave family lived in there thousands of years ago."
"Hundreds of thousands."
"What?"
"Cavemen, they lived hundreds of thousands of years ago, not thousands."
She put her hands on her hips. "Okay, professor." She arched one delicate eyebrow, and I let out a small laugh on a breath.
"Come on, Princess Tenleigh, we better get back to the road before it's pitch black." I went for a casual tone to my voice. Tenleigh had obviously noticed my strange behavior when it came to the small cave.
The sun had almost set and it was twilight, the sky a deep blue, the first stars just appearing. A few minutes later, we were back on the road and we walked along in silence. It felt comfortable again and Tenleigh smiled a small smile at me, just tilting her head slightly in my direction.
She adjusted her backpack and a book fell out of the tear on the side, the one she had closed up as much as possible with a safety pin. A fucking safety pin. That safety pin filled me with anger. "Oops." She leaned down to pick it up just as I did and we both laughed as our heads collided. She rubbed hers and laughed again. "There's that charm again. I'm a goner for sure."
I laughed. "Don't say I didn't warn you." I picked up the book and held it up. "The Weaver of Raveloe?"
Tenleigh's eyes met mine and she nodded, taking the book from me. "I read a lot," she said, stuffing the book in her backpack and looking embarrassed for some reason. "The Dennville library doesn't have much of a selection so I've read some twice . . ."
"That one?" I nodded my head toward her backpack.
We started walking again.
"Yes, I've read that one before."
"What's it about?"
She was quiet for a minute and I thought she might not answer me. Truthfully, I didn't really care to hear about the weaver of whatever. She could tell me anything. What I wanted was to hear her pretty voice cutting through the cold mountain air—and I liked the things she said. She was different. She kept surprising me with the things that came out of her mouth and I liked it. I liked it way too much.
"It's about Silas Marner who . . ."
I halted. "Silas?"
Tenleigh stopped, too, and looked at me curiously. "Yeah, what's wrong?"
I shook my head and we both started walking again. "Nothing. That was my brother's name."
Tenleigh bit her lip and looked up at me, a sympathetic look on her face. She must know my brother had been at the mine that day. "Yes, I think I remember that." She smiled. "Maybe your mama read the book and the name stuck with her."
I shook my head. "My mama didn't . . . doesn't know how to read."
"Oh." She glanced at me and then was silent for a minute. "I know it happened years ago, but . . ." She touched my arm and I jerked slightly. She pulled her hand away. "I'm really sorry about your loss, Kyland."
"Thanks, I appreciate that," I said, clearing my throat.
We walked in a sort of awkward silence for a few minutes, passing by my dark house. "So what about this Silas Marner?"
"Um . . . well, he lives in a slum in England and, ah, he's falsely accused of stealing, by his best friend. He's convicted and the woman he's engaged to marry leaves him and marries his best friend."
"Jesus, sounds like a real feel-good sort of tale. I'm glad you've found a way to escape the harshness of Dennville."
Tenleigh's sweet-sounding laughter made my heart jump in my chest and I looked over at her. Somehow making this girl laugh filled me with some sort of pride. Not good. Very, very bad.
We arrived in front of Tenleigh's trailer and she stopped, leaning back against a tree next to the road. "Well, he leaves the town and settles in a small village near Raveloe. He sort of becomes a hermit, feeling as if he's hidden—even from God." I unconsciously leaned in so I wouldn't miss a word. She tilted her head, looking off into the distance. Then she looked back at me and widened her eyes. "But one winter’s night, his whole life changes when—"
"Tenleigh!" someone called from the trailer, an older woman with long brown hair the same color as Tenleigh's. "It's cold out there. Come inside."
"Okay, Mama," Tenleigh called before looking back at me, a worried expression on her face. I didn't remember seeing Tenleigh's mama much. She must not leave the trailer very often. "I gotta go. I'll see you around, Kyland." And with that, she turned and left me where I was standing. She ran inside so quickly, her sudden absence jarred me and made me feel lost somehow. I stood staring at her trailer for several moments before I turned and headed for home, the wind cold at my back.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tenleigh
The unfortunate thing about being fired from Rusty's—other than the obvious issues of lost income, humiliation, and possible starvation—was that it was the only place to buy groceries in Dennville. Normally, I'd make the six mile walk to Evansly just on principle alone, but today it was raining cats and dogs and I just wasn't up for it. So I sucked up my pride and entered the convenience store. Rusty was a dick, but he wasn't going to turn down my money. Thankfully though, his sister Dusty was standing at the counter. Yes, Rusty's sister's name was Dusty—the gene pool in that family was clearly something special. Dusty had an In Touch magazine plastered to her face and didn't even look up when I entered. I let out a sigh of relief. I moved through the store throwing things in my basket. Rusty didn't carry any fruits or vegetables, not even the canned variety. Marlo and I had a small garden planted on the far side of our trailer—tomatoes, green beans, watermelon, and potatoes—and in the summertime we sometimes ate from it exclusively for weeks at a time. Most of the people living on the mountain had at least a small garden and sometimes we traded one homegrown item for another. It was a good way to save money . . . and a good way to avoid the scurvy you were likely to get if you ate food solely from Rusty's.
In the winter months, I'd usually make it a point to walk through the snow to Evansly at least once a week to stock up on canned fruits and veggies. When we were heating our trailer, we couldn't afford the fresh variety, so for three or f
our months we made do with canned. And then when the spring came, Marlo and I watched the ground with something close to glee as the first shoots unfurled.
You had to appreciate the small things in life when the big things made you want to curl up in the corner in the fetal position and give up.
"Hey, Dusty," I greeted her when I was ready to check out.
She didn't acknowledge me and still didn't look up, blindly grabbing at my items until she felt something, glanced at it, and typed the price into the cash register.
"So how's life?" I asked, leaning my hip on the counter.
Dusty finally looked up at me, a blank expression on her plain face. "Life sucks," she said.
I nodded to the magazine in her hand. "Not for those Kardashians."
She narrowed her eyes, smacking the gum in her mouth before glancing quickly at the magazine and then back at me. "Khloe and Kourtney are taking over the Hamptons," she offered.
I nodded slowly, running my tongue over my front teeth. "Must be nice."
"Yeah," she said. "Must be real nice." Then she grinned, showing me a mouthful of rot—commonly referred to in these parts as “Mountain Dew Mouth.” Then, as if to make my point, she picked up a half-full bottle of Mountain Dew and took a big swig. I struggled not to flinch. She finished ringing up my items, I paid, took my bags, bid her farewell, and walked to the door. As I was walking through, Dusty called my name and I turned around and looked at her questioningly.