Nightside

by Holly Hook

  I drop my hand.

  "Let me walk you back to your window," he says, turning away. "The Stalker Troupe is gone, but they can come back at any time."

  Is he from a religion or tradition that says he can't touch the opposite sex? Maybe. Could be another family rule. But asking why he hasn't grabbed my hand would sound, well, rude, so I don't push it. Maybe he'll hold my hand on the gravel trail. Baby steps.

  We walk up the trail together, silent, but Riley, despite us both being soaked, doesn't take that step. Disappointment wells in my chest as we climb the hill to my house in silence. Once I catch sight of my window and the light shining through it, I ask, "Can we talk at school tomorrow?"

  Riley sighs with deep sadness. "That's against the rules."

  "Is everything against the rules?" Does that include hand-holding? Maybe I'll have to make the first move in that department.

  "I really enjoyed myself tonight," Riley says once we're at the window. "Hopefully I can break away and see you tomorrow night, too. But I have to go."

  The copper in his eyes looks deeper now, almost rusty, but as if sensing that I'm looking, Riley turns away and quickly walks through the trees, leaving me at my window, alone. He doesn't even say goodbye. I'm left standing there, watching him go until I don't see him anymore or hear him crunching pine needles under his feet.

  I let out the breath I've been holding.

  I've got to learn about his family and solve this mystery no matter what.

  Chapter Three

  Despite last night, Riley's vanished from the school halls the next day. I glimpse the snarling guy and the girl with streaked hair but Riley himself stays absent. It's as if he's trying extra hard to keep me a secret, and instead of being angry with him, I'm thrilled in a strange way.

  Lily brings me her notebook of conspiracy theories at lunch that day. "Hey, why do you smell like sea salt?"

  "New shampoo?" I ask. If Lily knows about my swim with Riley, she'll freak. Maybe I'll tell her once I get a feel for how she'll react.

  "Look what I brought? My favorite theory is that the Beaumonts have their own cult and that's why they all dress that way. I mean, black can only go so far."

  "Some of them wear purple, too," I joke, trying not to look at the girl with the streaked hair. They still sit at their usual table, Riley with his back to me. Its the first time I've seen him all day.

  I look through Lily's theories, and it turns out she's written about everything from crop circles to the Beaumonts themselves. Oh, and Nibiru. Oh, boy. I hope this is a product of small town boredom. "So," I say, flipping. "The Beaumonts might be preparing for the arrival of some unseen planet in our solar system?" I hope beyond hope that Riley can't hear. I like Lily, but I'm weirded out by this.

  "It's really fascinating stuff," Lily says, taking back her notebook. "If you've seen some of those videos online--"

  "Anyone can put up a video," I say, trying not to sound rude. "Yikes. No offense, but I hope none of this stuff is true."

  Am I any better when it comes to Riley? I glance over at them again, and once more, no one's eating.

  "Agreed," Lily says. "It's just interesting to collect these, is all." Is she trying to save face?

  I manage to change the subject, asking Lily about which teachers will suck. It works. I enjoy getting away from weirdness for a bit and discussing normal things. Once at home later that night, I close my curtains, thinking of those three creepy dudes who lurk out around the beach at night, and about another hour into my homework, I'm rewarded with a gentle knock.

  "Hey," Riley says once I open the window. "Want to take a walk to the pier and back?"

  I listen for Mom, but she's out watching the new cable we've got. Yeah, cable, and no Internet. But at least she's applying for jobs and has an interview on Tuesday.

  "Sure," I whisper. "You know, I've been looking forward to this. I've been dying to talk to someone normal all day."

  "I see you've been hanging out with Lily Rivera," he says with a sly smile. "Entertaining, huh?"

  "You know about Lily's...interests?" I ask, wanting to defend her.

  "Well, I've heard about her. I might be a hermit, but I do have ears.”

  Did he hear that conversation earlier? No. Crazy. Riley's been in this school system a lot longer than I have.

  “Lily just collects Nibiru stuff,” I say, undoing the screen. Maybe tonight Riley will hold my hand. He looks at me like I'm more than a friend. That sparkle in his eyes makes me tingle all over.

  “Nibiru,” he says, snorting. “What kind of theory is that? Then again...never mind.”

  “What?” Is he ready to spill? I climb out of the window and watch him replace the screen.

  “Come on,” he says, waving me not towards the beach, but down the road. “The pier's awesome at night but it's not easy to get to from the beach. You have to climb. So we'll cut through town.”

  The now-waning moon rises as we walk down the curvy road, side by side. But we walk like friends, and I keep eyeing Riley's perfect, pale hand as we draw closer to town. He bites his lip. What's he thinking?

  We make small talk, but the more I tell Riley about my teachers and about my crappy homework assignments, the more my limbs twitch. He's letting things drag out. My palm tingles, my body tingles, everything tingles from Riley's presence. How does he do it?

  At last, we cut through town and the shadow of the Ferris wheel stands against the stars.

  “The gate's closed this late,” I say, eyeing the stop sign in the center.

  “Well, summer hours are much longer than fall hours,” Riley says, surveying the gate. “They'll close for the winter soon which is a bummer. The fair's the only cool thing to do around here, but I hang out here at night a lot. You have to watch for one or two security guards, though. They can be a pain if you're not paying attention.”

  Electricity runs up my spine. I face Riley. “Are you saying we should sneak in?”

  Riley grins. “Hey. You're a city girl, right? I bet you've done stuff like this lots of times."

  I realize what he's saying with a dizzy tilt. I haven't gone around sneaking into places at night, actually, but I'm not about to tell Riley Beaumont that. “Sounds fun,” I say. “A nice change from the beach with those creepy guys.”

  “We can't guarantee they're not here,” Riley says. “Come on. All we have to do is get over the gate and then go straight to the left, because they have security cameras pointing at the stalls just inside. See them?”

  He's right. Darkened carnival games stand in a row and cameras point down at them, meant to catch people like us. I march over to the eight-foot-tall gate and start climbing over, but my shoe gets caught in the fence and I find myself grabbing onto the chain link at the top, digging my flesh. “Shit,” I mutter, seething.

  Riley hesitates for a second, then climbs the gate beside me and reaches for my hand. So this is how it's going to work. I hurt myself, he holds my hand.

  He wraps his around my wrist with a powerful, but gentle grip, and lifts with so much force that my shoe comes free of the fence. My breath escapes. Gravity seems to flee, he's so strong. I find myself almost floating over the top now, swinging my leg over.

  "There," Riley says, climbing over with me.

  He's still holding my hand.

  How did he lift me?

  His skin electrifies mine and for a second I forget I'm trespassing. Another layer of dizziness sweeps over me and a loud buzzing fills my ears. My vision snaps into strange colors as I jump down on the other side, the pressure of Riley's grasp remaining on my wrist like an energy bracelet. What is with him? My mind floats back to aliens and I shake my head. No way. Riley's just plain hot. That's all.

  He lands beside me, smiling. “You almost had it on your own. Impressive.”

  “How did you get over so easy?"

  All cool, Riley waves to the fence like it's nothing. “Practice. I've jumped it millions of times.”

  That's not my real question. B
ut before I can ask how the heck he lifted all of me, Riley lets go of my hand and nods at the rest of the carnival. “Come on. If we hug the edge for a bit, we can explore the whole place. And I'll show you how to win some of these rigged games.”

  * * * * *

  My stomach roars with hunger as I wake on Saturday.

  How long was I out last night, anyway? Riley showed me all the carnival games last night. We were out super late. He showed me how to aim the squirt guns at impossibly small targets, to avoid the basketball game because they bent the rim, and that the horizontal rope ladder was winnable with practice. I must have burned a buttload of calories last night and that's why my gut feels like it's eating itself. Yeah. Makes sense.

  What doesn't is the itch under my skin.

  I get out of bed. A bagel won't cut it. I need something else. Stomach acid lashes at my insides. Right now, I could eat a whole steak.

  The kitchen of the Derp House is empty when I enter it, but I find a note from Mom letting me know she's at a surprise job interview at another vet's office. I'm to grab whatever I want for breakfast. That alone fills me with an inner glow, but I'm still hungry. I rummage through the fridge to find not much there, unless I want to eat some cottage cheese topped with mustard. And besides, I think I need protein.

  The itch is driving me insane. I grit my teeth. The freezer might have something better, and I find a pair of steaks Mom bought on our first full day here. They're frozen, probably meant for the grill, but I pull one out and turn it over as my gut begs for sustenance once again. Meat. That sounds good. I've never cooked a steak on my own before but I'll figure it out. I can't wait.

  The smell of the meat almost overtakes me once I defrost it and it goes from a red, frozen hunk to a red slab of bloody flesh. I throw it on the biggest frying pan we have (yeah, that has to be wrong) and turn on the old gas stove. The meat sizzles as saliva fills my mouth, begging for it to be done already, and I take the metal spatula and turn it over about a minute later, browning the other side, too. The itch continues to creep over my skin. I want to hit something. Seriously, what is up?

  I can't take it anymore. My steak's barely brown and it smells amazing, like exotic spices and herbs. I cut off the gas and put the browned steak on my plate, which still oozes redness, and settle at the dining room table with a fork and knife.

  It's the most amazing steak I've ever had.

  I get lost as I eat, downing pinkish red piece after piece. Some of the awful itch over my skin eases, but not all of it, and even after I've polished off the meat, leaving just a reddish stain on my plate, the bizarre feeling remains in the background.

  What is wrong with me?

  The horror hits me like a truck. I've never eaten steaks that aren't completely well done before and now I've eaten one that was probably run through a warm room, as Mom always put it. But the stain on my plate just makes my stomach grumble again.

  I scoop up the plate and wash away the evidence.

  What?

  Why?

  I'll probably get food poisoning and die. I lean over the sink and take a breath. Pink meat has always turned my stomach, and now I've just--

  “Get out of here, Olivia,” I tell myself. “You have things to do, anyway.”

  * * * * *

  The local library has internet access. It's my first time visiting, and the building is surprisingly large inside with loads of books, some new and some old, along with two rows of computers. A single librarian sits behind a long counter and in front of a locked, heavy door labeled Private Collection. She smiles at me. At least it's welcoming here.

  As much as I want to get on and see sweet, pixelated images and text, and to email Cammie so she knows I'm not dead, info about the Beaumonts calls. Do towns keep historical records in libraries? A place like this spawned Lily, so it must have old people who like to collect old newspaper clippings and local stories. Right?

  After browsing for a while and using the electronic card catalog, I find not one but five books on Moon's Peak somewhere in the back. The Beaumonts have to be in them if they own half the town. One of the books is badly named Looking Down the Moon, so I have to open that one (and yep, it was written by an old guy who might have been perverted) and start skimming.

  Looks like Moon's Peak was founded in the gold rush days by the Beaumonts themselves, who started a logging business and hired people from all around the country. I skimmed through logging accidents and worker loss due to possible mountain lions, but the Beaumonts aren't mentioned much again, except when it came to buying out a couple of smaller logging companies back in the day and pretty much ruling the roost. Not very useful, and it's so ordinary that I slam the book shut.

  None of the other four books have any other information that's of use—just logging, logging, and occasional farming. Real boring stuff. There's nothing here the Beaumonts need to hide, unless they're ashamed of chasing their competitors out of town, so why don't they ever talk to anyone?

  “Hey, Olivia.”

  I jump out of the chair I'm sitting in.

  “Lily,” I breathe, whirling.

  She stands there, her Conspiracy Notebook pressed against her chest. I should have known she'd show up at the library on a Saturday. Then again, I don't have any room to talk.

  “Oh, I hang out here all the time,” she says, putting her notebook down on the table. “If you're looking for the Beaumonts in those books, you won't find anything. You have to look around town and really talk to people if you want to find out anything weird. Those books are all written by stuffy people."

  “And possible perverts?” I ask, motioning to the title of the first book.

  “Well, yeah. That guy was a creep but he's dead now,” Lily says. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the fair tonight. They're actually open since it's going to be a warm night and I got Morton to go, too.”

  Morton. Lily had mentioned he was cute a couple of lunch sessions ago and pointed him out in the cafeteria. He was obviously one of the logging kids, sentenced to a life of floating dead trees down rivers or hauling them via trucks. “That's great. What time do we meet?” If Riley tries to show up tonight at my house, he'll find me gone.

  But I have to get out and see the fair while it's open. There's always the chance I'll glimpse Riley there, too.

  * * * * *

  The fair's all lit this Saturday night and the air is warm and soothing, coming off the ocean. People laugh and chatter on the pier, which I can hear from far away. I approach, stomach rumbling again. At least I'm not puking my guts out from bacteria but I wonder if I'm going to get through tonight with this annoying itch all over my body.

  Lily's waiting for me at the entrance I climbed over the night before. I wave hi to her, glad to be out of the Derp House. She's alone at least, and I'll have to warn her to avoid the rigged basketball game. All around us, kids run around, some of them with crappy stuffed animals. The smell of elephant ears fills the air, but for some reason, the cinnamon just doesn't sound appetizing to me.

  “Hey,” I say. “So, what do you want to do first?”

  "Where's Morton?" Lily whirls, searching for him. "Oh, there he is! Morton! Over here!"

  The guy strides over and wraps his arm around Lily, and instantly a feeling of left out sweeps over me. Lily's face falls as she probably realizes the mistake she's made.

  "I brought a friend," Lily says, waving me closer.

  "Hey," Morton says, a stupid grin growing on his face. "Maybe I can have two girls instead of one?"

  Though I know Lily feels a bit bad about it, the two of them end up at the water gun game, backs to everyone else, while I'm trying to watch and have fun. That itch sweeps over me again along with hunger, and I look around, trying to find something that might shut up this annoying appetite. My gaze lands on a hot dog stand, though that doesn't seem like it'll do the trick. But I have to try something before I wind up prepping an extra rare steak again.

  "Well, hey."

  Riley s
weeps in front of me like a dark god, leather coat flowing around him and equally dark, lush hair hanging over one side of his face.

  "Riley," I gasp. Dizziness sweeps over me, chasing away the awful itch and the turning in my gut. "I didn't think you'd be at the fair when it's, well, open. Usually you only talk to me when there are no witnesses. Well, normal witnesses."

  He grins. "The fair's open late tonight. Come on. I want to beat that ladder game and show you how it's done."

  "The one you can actually win with practice?" My scalp and palms tingle. Riley was able to climb over the horizontal ladder last night. Of course, with the fair being closed, we won no prize.

  "You need some skills for that. I'll go and then you can try. It might hone your climbing ability."

  "Yeah, I know. Epic fail last night," I say. But at least I got to hold his hand. And Riley hanging out with me in public? That's a big step. I thought he had rules?

  Riley holds out his hand. "Everything been going okay with you?"

  "More than okay." And despite being in the middle of milling adults and running kids, I take Riley's hand. It's the first time we've done this romantically, and his skin is cool but perfectly smooth. Riley runs his fingers through mine, tickling the back of my hand. Every sweep of his fingers creates sparks that merge with my skin and run up my arm. Tonight, his touch feels a lot more normal.

  A few girls from school, one of whom is holding a pink nightmare of cotton candy, stroll past, and all three of them face us as we pass. Though it makes my back prickle, I don't care. I must be the first girl to hold hands with Riley Beaumont.

  We reach the rope ladder game. The two of us stop and watch, still holding hands, as a guy from school tries to move across the rungs on all fours, which tips and casts him into the water below. Beside me, Riley grins. His gaze floats up to the giant stuffed animals, the assorted alligators, puppy dogs, and giant cats above the carnival worker, and then to me. I know what he's thinking.