How I Found You

by Gabriella Lepore

  BLINDLY I STUMBLED THROUGH THE dense woodland. I tried to calm myself, but my heart was pounding.

  The first heavy drops of rain plummeted from the sky and splashed onto my arms, and the deeper I walked into the woodland, the more unfamiliar things became. Perhaps it was the fear of being lost, or perhaps it was a gut instinct, but I was scared. Really scared.

  To make things worse, I was plagued by that instinctual feeling that eyes were upon me. Threatening eyes. Crow-like eyes, which had previously only manifested through my nightmares, but that now appeared to be taking up roots in reality, too. I could feel them burning a hole in the back of my head.

  As the rain pattered down, indistinct sounds echoed throughout the woodland. Drops landed like footsteps all around me. I glanced over my shoulder, but could see nothing except the slight movement of leaves. Each new sound sent a fresh wave of panic coursing through my veins.

  I broke into a run. I scrambled through the trees, heading in whichever direction fate took me. Although I probably should have been looking where fate was taking me, because without warning, my foot slipped out from underneath me.

  I had tripped over a fallen branch and was tumbling face first onto the muddy ground.

  I braced myself for the impact.

  But before I hit the forest floor, a strong hand grabbed my arm and effortlessly propped me back upright.

  It took me a few seconds to register that there were vice-like fingers clasped around my elbow.

  A scream caught in my throat.

  I jerked my arm free and stumbled backwards.

  “Careful!” said a light-hearted voice.

  Oscar.

  “What are you doing here?” I cried. My voice was quite a few octaves higher than usual.

  Oscar shook the raindrops from his dark hair. “I helped you,” he said with a shrug.

  “What are you doing here?” I choked again.

  “Helping.”

  “What-are-you-doing-here?” I drew out the words breathlessly. “Why are you in Hutton Ridge? In the woods?”

  “Oh,” Oscar hesitated, mulling over his impending response. “I’m…walking. I’m taking a walk. Nice day for it.” He smirked as a raindrop dribbled over the bridge of his nose.

  “You’re taking a walk?” I stammered. “Here?”

  “Yes. This is where I come for my…” he trailed off, almost as though he’d lost his train of thought. Or simply lost interest in the sentence.

  “Walks?” I finished for him.

  “Yes, my walks.”

  “In Hutton Ridge?”

  “I said so, didn’t I?”

  “How did you get here?” I demanded. “I thought your car was broken.” For a moment I thought I’d done it. Caught him in a lie. Put him in checkmate, so to speak.

  But Oscar was distinctly unruffled. “I walked. I walk.”

  “All the way here? It’s a half-hour car journey. It would have taken you hours to walk.”

  “Okay then, I ran.”

  My mind whirled with questions. Could he really have run there? And how could he possibly have known where to find me? Surely this couldn’t be a coincidence?

  “You’re lying,” I accused.

  Oscar pushed back wet strands of hair from his brow. “No, I’m not.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  Oscar’s gaze began to flicker between me and the trees. He cleared his throat. “Shall we go?” he said at last. He extended his hand to me, but I didn’t take it.

  Instead I folded my arms. “Go?” I echoed. “With you?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What, you’d rather stay out here on your own?”

  We both looked up to the towering treetops and grey rainclouds skulking through the sky.

  Great, I thought sourly. I was torn. I didn’t want to go with him, but I didn’t want to stay out there alone, either.

  “Just point me in the right direction,” I said with a grimace.

  Oscar laughed.

  I frowned at him. “Fine then, don’t. I’ll find my own way back.”

  “Oh right! Because that’s worked out well for you so far,” he drawled.

  In fairness, he was right—I had had absolutely no idea where I was going. But I didn’t want Oscar to know that. Oh, he’d have lapped that up.

  I marched into the thick of trees.

  I could hear him muttering irritably to himself as he strode to catch up with me.

  “Not that way,” he shouted.

  I hesitated and glanced back at him. “I don’t need your help,” I scoffed. “I don’t even know you!”

  For a split second he actually looked hurt. But it might as well have been a mirage, because in the next instant his expression was stony.

  “Suit yourself,” he said coolly. “I don’t know why I bothered anyway. Die out here for all I care.”

  Our eyes met through the misted rain.

  I sighed. Okay, I did need his help, but I really didn’t want to admit that.

  “Would you just…” Oscar raked his hands through his damp hair, “just trust me?” He shifted his weight restlessly from one foot to the next. “Just for today?”

  I wiped the rainwater from my eyes. “How can I trust you? All you do is lie to me.”

  He stopped fidgeting and fixed his russet gaze on me. When he answered, he spoke slowly, earnestly. “It’s not safe for you to be out here by yourself. That’s the truth.”

  Without waiting for a response, Oscar took hold of my wrist and guided me into the trees. His grasp was light and yet unmovable at the same time.

  I dug my heels into the mud. “Let go!”

  Oscar stopped walking. “If I let you go, will you promise to walk with me?”

  Go willingly? I knew I had to make that judgement there and then. “Do you promise that you’re not taking me off to,” I lowered my voice, “kill me?”

  Oscar chuckled in amusement. “Oh, you’ve caught me,” he teased. “Listen, if I was going to kill you, girl, don’t you think I would have done it by now? I mean, it’s raining.”

  Good point. Not a practical time to linger.

  “Come on,” Oscar urged. “Let’s just go, eh?”

  “I—”

  “That’s the spirit,” he cheered. “Now, I’m going to let go of your wrist and you’re going to be a good girl and follow me.” He cautiously released his iron clasp and took a few watchful steps forward.

  As it turned out, my legs moved faster than my brain, because sure enough, I followed him. But I wasn’t entirely happy about it. In fact, I seriously doubted that we were even heading in the right direction.

  “This is the wrong way,” I told him, adamantly.

  “No, it isn’t.”

  I snorted. “Admit it, you’re lost.”

  Oscar laughed loudly. “I’m never lost. This is the way.” He cast me a sideways glance. “I am certain.”

  “How?” I shot back. “Every direction looks the same.” I waved my hand at the tall pines surrounding us.

  “Not to me.” Oscar tapped his temple with his index finger. “Intuitive,” he said, with a sanctimonious smirk.

  “Give me a break.”

  “Or perhaps I’ve laid out a trail of breadcrumbs,” he joked. “One hundred and fifty invisible breadcrumbs.”

  The rain fell more heavily now, drenching our clothes and hair. I must have shivered, because Oscar shrugged out of his black jacket and tossed it to me.

  I caught it. It was heavy and felt warm and dry on the inside. Even at arm’s length, I could smell Oscar on the material.

  “I told you to bring a coat,” he reproached.

  All of a sudden, my stomach lurched. “My jacket,” I groaned. “And my dress. I left them on the ridge!”

  “You’re not going back for them,” my surly companion rebuffed before the idea was even suggested.

  “I have to!” I thrust his jacket back into his hands. “Mary bought me that dress today. I can’t just leave it in the woods.”

 
Oscar’s eyebrows drew together. “You’re going to have to,” he snapped. He made a half-hearted attempt to shelter us both with his jacket, lifting it above our heads like an umbrella.

  Without thinking, I turned and ran away from him, retracing my steps back to the ridge.

  “Hey!” Oscar yelled. “Where do you think you’re going!” I heard the crunch of the undergrowth as he jogged after me. “If you go back to the ridge,” he shouted, “don’t expect me to follow you!”

  I broke into a sprint.

  “I mean it!” Oscar bellowed.

  But I kept running. I ran as fast as I could over bracken and debris until I burst through the trees and emerged into the clearing. The first thing I saw was my tan jacket, crumpled on the grass, soaked and muddy. To my dismay, I saw no sign of the pink shopping bag.

  “Oh no!” I panted. “Where is it?” I lifted my jacket from the grass and scanned the glade.

  Oscar stood some distance away, scowling, his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He leaned against a tree trunk, watching the rain form pools on the ground.

  Where was it? I’d definitely had it when I reached the ridge. An awful thought dawned on me. I stepped closer to the verge and peered over the edge. My heart sank. “It’s fallen over the edge,” I cried. “I can see the bag at the foot of the cliff!”

  Oscar broke into a grin.

  I glowered at him. “It’s not funny.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No!” I wailed. “I’ll never be able to get that bag. It’s too far down.”

  “Oh well.”

  “What am I going to do?” I realised that I was appealing to Oscar in utter despair, as though somehow he would be able to give me an answer.

  Oscar exhaled loudly. “I’m getting soaked,” he grumbled.

  “It’s gone,” I said quietly, turning to face him.

  Oscar opened his mouth and began catching raindrops on his tongue. “So, we’re done here?” he asked.

  I felt sick. How could I have been so careless?

  Oscar frowned at my expression. “Get over it. It’s just a dress.”

  “It was expensive. It meant so much to Mary, and I just…” Uh oh. My voice caught in my throat. I quickly pressed my fingers to my eyelids.

  Oscar marched across the glade and stood before me. He pulled my hands away from my eyes.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me?” he exclaimed. “You’re not crying, are you?”

  “No—” my voice cracked. Abort sentence!

  “Come on, crying? Crying? I didn’t sign up for this!” He clumsily patted me on the back. “There, there,” he said stiffly.

  I pursed my lips and wiped away a tear from the corner of my eye. “I can’t help it,” I mumbled. “I have overactive tear ducts.”

  He threw me a dubious look.

  “It’s a thing,” I insisted.

  “Look, let’s cut to the chase, crybaby,” Oscar moved on. “I’m no good with waterworks.” He pressed his palms together. “What’s the protocol here? You feed me the lines and I’ll say them. Don’t make me work for this.”

  “There’s nothing you can say,” I sighed softly. “The dress is gone and there’s no way I can get it back. We might as well go.”

  Oscar gave me an approving smile. “Yes. Good.”

  We began walking back into the woodland. I kept my head bowed, in my own private funeral march. I sniffled a little bit.

  “Are you still crying?” Oscar asked, unable to disguise the exasperation in his tone.

  “I’m upset.”

  He kicked the ground. “This is annoying.”

  I glared at him. “If I’m so annoying, then maybe you should do us both a favour and leave me alone.”

  “No, I didn’t mean that you’re annoying,” he rectified hastily, holding up his hands in submission. “I meant the situation. The thing is, there is one way that I can help you. But I really shouldn’t do it.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  His nose twitched. “There is a way to get the dress back,” he confessed, “but only in an extreme emergency. I really shouldn’t do it.”

  My eyes widened a fraction. “This is an extreme emergency,” I pointed out.

  Oscar stopped walking. For a long while we were silent. Then at last, he said, “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t. Forget I said anything.”

  My shoulders sagged.

  Oscar changed tack. “Is there any other way to shut you up?” He must have noticed my insulted expression, because he swiftly re-worded. “I mean, is there any other way to cheer you up?”

  I smiled in spite of myself.

  Oscar’s copper-coloured eyes softened for a moment. “You didn’t lose the dress on purpose,” he reassured me in a gentle voice. “Your aunt will understand. It was an accident.”

  “I know that. It’s just...” I gazed at the interlacing branched around us. “It meant a lot to Mary.” I paused, then added, “It meant a lot to me.”

  Oscar lowered his eyelids and exhaled tautly. “Okay,” he said through gritted teeth, “if I could get the dress back, would the crying stop?”

  I blotted my tears with the back of my hand. “Well, yes. But it’s impossible. It must be a one-hundred-foot drop, and there’s no way down. Unless you know a way down?”

  His mouth curved up at the corner. “Do you want the dress?”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Yes, please.”

  Oscar flashed me a puckish grin. “Then I know a way down.” He rubbed his hands together. “Right. I’m going to get that damn dress back, on one condition.”

  “Go on,” I urged.

  “That you walk over to those trees,” he pointed to a cluster of oaks on the other side of the clearing, “and close your eyes.”

  “What? Why?”

  Oscar held up his hands. “Those are my terms. Do you accept or not?”

  How could I not accept? I was in no position to argue. I nodded my head in concurrence.

  “Good girl.” He gave me a little shove in the direction of the oaks. “Go. And don’t open your eyes. Remember, a verbal contract is binding in the town of Hutton Ridge.” He winked.

  Confused but compliant, I walked to the shelter of the trees and reluctantly followed orders. Standing around in the rain with my eyes closed seemed well and truly absurd.

  “This had better not be some dumb practical joke,” I yelled into the breeze.

  “Are your eyes closed?” Oscar called to me.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  In the next second, I heard the pounding of feet on the muddy ground, as though Oscar were racing to the edge of the precipice.

  Of course, my eyes instinctively shot open. And it was a good thing they did, because I was just in time to see Oscar hurtle off the ridge.

  “No!” I screamed, clutching my heart. I raced across the clearing, severely dreading what I was about to see on the ground below.

  I braced myself for the sight of Oscar lying motionless, broken and bleeding. I felt as though I was a heartbeat away from seeing something that I would never recover from.

  What happened over the next few seconds, though, would forever be one of the most significant moments of my lifetime. I could honestly say that imagining Oscar dead changed my life forever. It was surreal, as though I had floated out of my body and was watching myself run to the ridge. For a brief instant, everything became clear. For the good and the bad, I couldn’t live without Oscar. It wasn’t a romantic Romeo and Juliet-esque proclamation, it was simply a cold, hard fact. I mean, it wasn’t as though I knew Oscar, or even particularly cared to get to know him for that matter. But I knew that, somehow, on some bizarre level, losing him would lose me.

  But as I peered over the edge of the ridge, I came crashing back down to reality.

  Oscar stood staunchly at the foot of the cliff, completely unaffected by the jump.

  “You absolute, brazen liar!” he shouted up at me. “You swore you wouldn’t open your eyes!”
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  “You jumped off a cliff!”

  Oscar raked his hands through his rain-soaked black hair. He cursed under his breath.

  “Are you hurt?” I yelled down to him. “And also, are you crazy?”

  “No,” he snapped. “You shouldn’t have opened your eyes. Now I’ll never trust you again.” He spat out the words with disdain.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “You’re not exactly the most trustworthy person yourself, Oscar.”

  He looked up at me with what I vaguely made out to be a sarcastic smile. “I haven’t done anything to merit untrustworthiness,” he stated. “You, however, have. You duped me, Rose.”

  I crossed my arms. “I’d hardly call it duping you,” I called down to him. “It was a shock. It’s not every day that someone leaps off a cliff.” I paused. “You did jump, didn’t you? I didn’t imagine it?”

  “Yes, you imagined it,” he replied.

  “No, I didn’t. You jumped!” My gaze travelled down the sheer rock face. He really jumped! “How are you going to get back up?”

  “I’m not coming back up.” He folded his arms stubbornly. “Not now, anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t trust you not to watch,” he sulked.

  “Well, obviously I’m going to watch. You just performed a death-defying stunt. You can’t expect me to look away while you perform the next one.”

  “Exactly. That’s why I’m staying down here.”

  “Why can’t I watch?” I pressed, frankly confused by the whole situation.

  “Because it’s none of your business.” He dug his foot into the ground, agitated.

  I sighed. “Okay. If it’s really that important to you, then I’ll close my eyes.” Maybe.

  He looked up at me, rightly suspicious. “That’s what you said last time.”

  “Well, last time you didn’t warn me that you’d be jumping off a cliff,” I reasoned.

  He puckered his lips, uncertain whether to believe me or not. “Do you swear?”

  “Okay.”

  “That’s not very convincing.”

  I sighed again. “I swear,” I said, and I think I actually meant it that time.

  After a brief mental deliberation, Oscar called back to me, “You’d better not be lying again.”

  I watched while he picked up the pink shopping bag and stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans. Then I returned to the oaks and reluctantly closed my eyes.