by Hamel, B. B.
“What’s up?” I asked him.
“Gotta do something real fast. You wait here.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Craving a Slim Jim?”
“I don’t think they even make those anymore,” he said, laughing.
“This is Ridgewood. This is the place time forgot.”
He nodded, smiling. “That’s the truth.” The car stopped in a spot and he put it in park. “Be back in a second.”
Before I could say anything, he jumped out and ran into the store. I watched him through the front windows, but he quickly disappeared behind a display. For a second, I wanted to follow him in, but I didn’t feel like getting soaked. I was finally beginning to dry off after all.
A few minutes later, he came back out of the store and climbed into the car. He put it in reverse, pulled out of the spot, and then headed back into traffic.
“Changed your mind?” I asked him.
“What?”
“You didn’t get anything.”
He looked at me for a second and then nodded. “Oh, yeah. They didn’t have it after all.”
I gave him a weird look but decided not to press. Reid could be mysterious when he wanted to be, after all.
I had learned not to bother trying to puzzle him out. If he wanted to open up, he would.
We moved back through town in a strained silence. I hated it, hated that he wasn’t teasing me mercilessly for being a science geek or something equally stupid and immature. Anything would have been better than the silence.
“What’s your plan for the summer?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.
“Not sure. Thought I’d look a few people up.”
“Like who?”
“Lindsey, for starters.”
He snorted. “She’s the waitress at the Blue, right?”
Blue was the Blue Light Diner. Most people just called it “Blue” for short.
“Last I heard, yeah.”
“I forgot you two were close.”
“Why, what’s that mean?”
“Nothing. She’s just different than she was in high school, that’s all.”
“Different how?”
He shrugged again. “People change. You sure did.”
“Oh good, this again.”
He laughed. “Don’t get all angry, college girl. Or should I say science geek? Since you’re not in college anymore.”
“If I’m a geek, you’re a meathead.”
“That’s not a bad tradeoff. I’ll take it.”
“What about you? Got any competitions coming up?”
He had a far-off look on his face for a second and then nodded. “Yeah. Got some stuff lined up.”
“How’s it going?”
“Good. Been training hard.”
My eyes roamed down his body. I had to admit, he was looking even more muscular and fit than usual, which was saying something. He glanced at me and smirked.
“Quit staring, Becca.”
I blushed and looked out the window. “I wasn’t staring.”
“You were practically eye-fucking me.”
“I was not. Don’t be a perv.”
“It’s fine, sis. I get it. Hard to control yourself around me.”
I sighed and shook my head. Maybe the silence really was better.
Soon we turned off the road and headed up a thin dirt path, hardly enough room for two cars to squeeze by each other. Each wind and curve and bend was utterly familiar to me since I had gone up and down them hundreds of times. Up ahead, a wood and glass building materialized into view, smoke rising lazily up through its chimney.
“Got the fire on for us,” Reid commented.
I smiled big. I was coming home.
Chapter Two: Reid
I hated being the new kid in town. Even years later, I still felt like I wasn’t exactly a local. Sure, I knew the woods around Ridgewood better than anyone, and I was the golden boy of climbing, but if you weren’t born in the town then you were always a bit of an outsider.
She never made me feel that way. Rebecca was a lifer, as I liked to call them, and when I first moved to Ridgewood as a kid she was nice to me. It was hard at first trying to get into the swing of small-town living, and kids weren’t exactly welcoming.
But Rebecca was different. She probably didn’t even remember, because we weren’t exactly friends back then, but she was nice to me anyway. Any sign of kindness was important in those first months, and she was one of the few kids that actually smiled and said hello to me.
Life got better though. I hit my growth spurt, got into climbing, and made some friends. For a long time, I felt lost, like there was nothing in the world for me. People were outgoing and happy and seemed to actually enjoy life, but it wasn’t like that with me. Sometimes it was a struggle getting out of bed.
That changed when I started rock climbing. It was small stuff at first, just little faces and some indoor walls. But it exploded from there.
I could still remember the day everything changed. I was fifteen and out climbing with a friend, some guy I could barely even remember anymore. But we climbed together up the cliff face, and he was teaching me how to properly use the ropes and pulleys when I leaned back and looked out across the landscape.
We were barely above the trees, but I could see all the way to the horizon. Everything was spread out in front of me, and I couldn’t hear what my friend was saying anymore. There was only me and the sun and the sky and the wind moving through my hair. I was free and it felt right.
Everything clicked together that day. I understood what everyone else was doing. The world just made sense when I was climbing.
And quickly that extended to hiking through the thick woods surrounding Ridgewood. I loved being out alone in the deep forest between our town and Canada with nobody else for miles. I could walk all day long out there doing nothing but climbing trees and identifying plants.
High school was fine after that. I guess girls liked me, because I never had trouble finding a new girlfriend. They probably liked the rock climbing or some shit like that, thought I was rugged. But I was never interested in fame. All I wanted was to climb and to climb fast.
Throughout all that, Becca was always around. I kept seeing her in the halls and in class, and I always wondered what she was like. Even though I was getting popular, I still felt intimidated around her. Everyone knew she was the smartest person in school, hands down, and although most people just thought she was some dorky loser girl, I saw a lot more in her.
I noticed the way she twirled her hair when she was nervous. I noticed how she chewed on the ends of her glasses when she was concentrating. She liked orange juice in the morning, and sometimes brought a little plastic bottle of it to school.
But I was intimidated by her in some weird way. I was no genius, but there she was, intelligent and serious and sexy as fuck. I had plenty of other girls to keep me busy, but Becca was always floating on the edge of my awareness, flickering in and out of my sight.
My career took off when I was seventeen. I won a local competition and realized that I could be pretty good if I wanted to be. I trained almost every day, climbing as often as I could, and something just shifted in me. Suddenly, the local competitions were too easy, so I started entering the regionals. I broke a few records, won a bunch of money, and my star took off.
That’s the funny thing about small towns, though. No matter how famous you get, you’re still only small-town famous. And all it takes is one thing to shift, one thing to change everything.
For me, it was two things.
The first thing was Becca. I never saw her coming, not really. Even though I had a thing for her, some little crush, I never understood what it was or what it meant until it was too late. Two days after the night I finally figured it out, our parents announced that they had eloped over the weekend.
Rebecca Foster, the girl from that night, that one sweaty night, was my fucking stepsister.
It was like a crime. The second I had something, it was snatched awa
y, just like that.
The second thing that changed my life was my mom’s cancer. That was worse than wanting to fuck my stepsister. Becca went to college and was gone for most of it, so she didn’t see the struggle we went through. She didn’t see how her dad looked at me when I started bringing home money to help with the medical bills. She didn’t see what I put myself through to get that money, the shit I waded into and got stuck down deep in.
She didn’t see my mom hanging on to life by a thread. She didn’t see my mom eventually beat it, and come through the other side stronger.
She didn’t see the piles of debt we were barely living under. She didn’t see the darkness that I had let take over everything around me.
And after all that, after her short but agonizing visits, she came home. My stepsister, Becca Foster.
The genius girl I couldn’t get out of my damn head.
––––––––
I watched as Becca climbed up the front steps, lugging her suitcase behind her. I sighed and smiled to myself. It was typical of her to refuse my help. At least she let me get it the first time.
The house was situated on an acre and a half of land, surrounded by dense forests. My stepdad, Jack, had bought it cheap back in the day, and when he married my mom, they moved in together. He had expanded the place big time over the years, adding on a large front porch, two additions, and a dormered second floor. It was a stylized log cabin, and because I barely remembered the houses I grew up in before it, I thought of it as home.
We weren’t wealthy. Far from it, because of the cancer treatments. But Jack worked hard and I helped as much as I could. I didn’t love living at home, but when my mom got sick, all of my plans went out the window. I couldn’t leave, not when she was suffering.
I helped as much as I possibly could. I sacrificed everything for my mother, and I’d do it all over again if I could. But nobody could know about what I did. Nobody could know about the things I did to help cover our bills.
I couldn’t even imagine where we would be if I hadn’t met Thom all those years ago.
“You just going to stand there?” Becca said, looking down at me.
I shrugged. “Rain feels good.”
“Okay, weirdo. Come on.” She pulled off her boots, leaving them by the front door, and went inside.
I stood watching her for a second. Becca, back in my life for a few months. Even after that afternoon in the van, I was still excited to see her. I loved to stare at her ass as she went ahead of me. I couldn’t help myself. The girl drove me fucking crazy.
With a sigh I followed. I stripped off my wet clothes, tossing them over a chair on the porch, and went inside after her.
It was warm, but comfortable. The rain had made the temperature drop, and my mom had lit a fire to heat the house instead of turning on the furnace. I watched as Becca disappeared upstairs, probably going to change into dry clothes and unpack. I walked into the kitchen.
“Everything go okay?” Mom asked me.
“Yeah, fine. She’s upstairs unpacking.”
She nodded and smiled. “I’m so happy you’re both back under one roof again, at least for a while.”
I shrugged. “Sure, it’ll be fine.”
She frowned. My mom had always been a perceptive person, but for whatever reason it was out of control when it came to me. She could practically read my moods like a book.
It annoyed the hell out of me most of the time, but every once in a while it felt good not to have to explain myself.
“Why are you in a bad mood?” she asked playfully.
“I’m not,” I grunted.
Unfortunately, this was not one of those times.
“Come on, out with it.”
“Just tired. Long drive into town.”
She shook her head. “We both know that’s not it.”
“Haven’t climbed in a few days too.”
“Okay. If you want to tell me, feel free.”
I shook my head. What was I supposed to say to her? Mom, I want to fuck Becca so bad it hurts. My dick is practically hard right now from looking at her ass. My heart goes insane when she’s around. I don’t give a shit if she’s my stepsister.
I doubted she would have liked that.
“When’s Jack get home?”
Mom sighed. “Soon, hopefully.”
Just as I was about to respond, Becca appeared in the doorway. “Cora,” she said, smiling.
“There you are!”
They hugged hard and long. I smiled and opened the refrigerator, grabbing a beer and cracking it open. I had to admit, I liked that they had a good relationship.
It didn’t bother me that Jack and I didn’t get along. He could be a fucking prick most of the time, but it was easy to ignore. Still, it would have been nice not to have to deal with a sullen adult all the fucking time.
“You look incredible,” Becca said.
“Thanks, dear. I feel perfect.”
“Seriously, are you in better shape now than you were before the cancer?”
Mom laughed. She’d never admit it, but she loved the compliments. “No, not even close. But I appreciate that.”
“Don’t be modest, Mom. Aren’t you running a 5k in two weeks?”
She nodded. “Sure am. But any asshole could do that.”
Becca laughed. “Still, you’re amazing.”
I sipped my beer and smiled to myself. What an adorable fucking reunion.
“I’m going out,” I said suddenly.
Mom looked at me. “In this?”
“It’s letting up. Just going for a short walk.”
She paused. “Take Becca with you,” she commanded.
Becca put her hands up. “No, really, that’s okay. I don’t feel like getting wet again.”
“Nonsense. You just got home, you should get out there again. Get to know how things have changed.”
That attitude was typical of people in our town. Everyone thought the forest was magical somehow. You just needed to go out into the forest if you weren’t feeling good, get some fresh air.
“Mom, if she doesn’t want to come, she doesn’t have to,” I said.
Becca looked at me for a second and I thought I saw something in her eyes. “Actually, I’ll come. Just a short walk?”
I nodded. “Just around the property.”
“Let’s go.”
I gave my mom a look and shrugged, heading back out the front door. I slipped my wet boots back on but grabbed a dry parka from the front closet. Becca laced up her boots and threw the hood up on her sweatshirt.
The rain had slowed down to barely a drizzle as we moved back out onto the property. There was a path that wound its way between the trees and circled the woods, skirting the thin metal fence Jack had put up years ago to discourage bears from wandering into our backyard.
“Looks the same,” Becca said.
I downed my beer, crushed the can, and slipped it into my pocket. “Yeah. Not much changes around here.”
“I’ve only been gone a year this time.”
I nodded. “How was school?”
She shrugged. “Fine.”
“Ace all your exams? Actually, what am I saying, of course you did.”
“I did fine,” she said, giving me a look.
I grinned at her. “Come on, college girl, we all know you’re a little genius.”
“Starting that already?”
“Can’t help myself. You’re too damn easy to rile up.”
She sighed and looked ahead. I watched as the rain damped down her hair slightly, and I loved the way she reached up to stroke it back out of her face.
All at once, the memory in the van came rushing back. It was one year ago almost exactly, but it felt completely fresh, like it had happened a day ago.
She swiped the wet hair from her eyes and laughed. We were cramped together in the back of my van, and she was looking around like it was the most amazing thing she had ever seen.
“This is crazy. I can’t belie
ve you put this together.”
“Took a while. But you know how it is out here. There’s lots of time.”
“Lots of time for people that don’t work.”
I laughed. “You know I work. My job just isn’t a nine to five.”
“How is the climbing, anyway?”
I shrugged. I hated lying to her, hated lying to everyone, but I had to keep my story straight. “Got a competition coming up over near Seattle.”
“Far away,” she commented absently, looking at the books.
I shifted myself, moving closer to her. There was enough room for two people to lay comfortably with space to spare, but the damp air had brought a chill and it felt better to sit closer.
“I go where the money is.”
“Decent books.” She took one out and looked at the spine.
“Surprised that I can read?”
She shook her head. “Surprised that you like to read Jonathan Franzen.”
I snatched my copy of Freedom from her hands and tossed it across the car. “He’s fine. The self-sufficiency thing works for me.”
She laughed. “You’re basically a wild man.”
“That’s what the ladies tell me.”
“Good one.”
I moved closer to her. “You’re actually the first person I’ve showed this to.”
“Why? I mean, why me?”
“You know why. We’ve been doing this for way too long.”
“Reid.” Her lips parted slightly as I reached up and took her chin in my hand.
“You know what I want.”
“I’m afraid.”
“I’m not.”
I pressed my lips against hers. She kissed me back, and for a few seconds the world was right.
Until she pulled away. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t do this.” Avoiding eye contact, she pushed her way out of the van.
“Becca, wait,” I called out.
I ran to catch up with her. I didn’t want her to get lost on the way back.
We didn’t talk the whole way home.
That hadn’t been our first kiss. But it was the most recent, and it was the one that made it clear what she wanted.
“Woodpecker,” she said.
I followed her gaze, back in the present. “Oh yeah. Big one, too.”
“Your mom really does look awesome, by the way.”