Back to You (Don't Forget Me Book 2)

by Sia Wales

  “True,” cuts in Vuk. “But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to be near you when I get the chance.”

  He looks past the hood of the car, toward the forest. There’s something wrong, but I can’t figure out what. Maybe it’s just my imagination running wild, as usual.

  “So do you mind me coming to the bar tonight?” he asks as we get to the car.

  “Of course not!” I exclaim. I try to maintain a calm tone of voice, but his nervousness after gazing in the direction of the forest has put me on edge. “But first I want to drop off some school papers at Jamie’s house. I’ll see you there.”

  As he helps me into the car, he looks at the thick stack of papers on the passenger seat. He reaches out to grab it.

  “I’ll take them to her,” he says. “And I bet I still get to the bar before you!” And that crooked grin I so love spreads across his face.

  “Ok,” I reply. He slams my door shut and heads to his pickup.

  He does get there before me; I see his car as soon as I pull into the parking lot in front of the bar.

  He’ll be performing for the second time tonight, and I hope it all goes perfectly despite it being a last minute gig. If I hadn’t begged Scott to let Vuk perform, using Jeff’s love for rock music, almost as great as his passion for sports, as leverage, he would never have let him tread the boards of The Pats again unless it was my birthday, anniversary, or some such thing. But Vuk rocks the stage, and it would be a pity not to let him show what he’s got.

  One of the best second dates in my life so far. The place is packed for the show. Noise, a big crowd engaged in overlapping conversations. I’m not talking much, and the smile plastered on my face is genuine.

  Medford’s finest poet, Mr. Keats, is there, talking on the phone to Jamie. I tell him to tell her hello for me. Ronald, Scott’s neighbor, is there too, with his family. His wife Virginia, who I vaguely remember from my childhood summers, and their son, Seth, are there with him. It still strikes me as funny that he goes to my same college, even though he’s only in his second year. He has a rugged Scottish look, alabaster skin, long eyelashes, and twinkling blue eyes. He seems shy at first, but scrape under the surface and you’re guaranteed a laugh.

  Tyler just keeps to chatting with me and Seth, who joins in the discussion enthusiastically. He throws the occasional cautious glance at Vuk on stage as I cheer him on. I had spotted the two of them talking animatedly earlier on in the evening, and it didn’t look like it was on the friendliest of terms. Maybe it was just a friendly chat, but I have somehow misinterpreted it. I hope it has nothing to do with the way Vuk was peering at the forest earlier in front of Jeff’s house.

  As soon as Jeff arrives, I notice him scanning the room to find me. When he spots me, he tries to act casually but he seems a little anxious to see Tyler by my side. As he should. I can’t expect him not to worry about me. He’s not the only one who fears the return of my foggy state of being. Two afternoons spent with Jason are certainly not enough for me to be in the clear. I try to join in the conversation between Seth and Tess, having just arrived with Amber, who is taking classes with Ronald’s son.

  “So what did you all do over the weekend?” I ask.

  “Saturday we wanted to go out to the country, but we ended up changing our minds,” Tess sighs, a slight uncertainty in her voice. But Amber chimes in with a ‘That’s a shame’ then launches into the account of her own weekend. I’m not the only one who noticed the hesitation in Tess’s voice.

  “What happened?” asks Tyler.

  “Well,” begins Tess hesitantly, “We headed west in the car, we were almost to Hamilton Falls. Driving on the fifteen mile road that takes you there. But halfway along, we saw something.”

  “What?” Tyler perks up. Even Amber seems captivated by the story.

  “I don’t know,” admits Tess. “It looked like a cougar. It’s coat was golden, but it seemed too big.” Her tone of voice goes up a sharply, which is lucky otherwise none of us would have heard her above the noise of the bar, and no one would have grasped the sense of her words.

  Suddenly, Tyler’s golden eyes become unexpectedly cautious, as if he were hiding an unmentionable secret.

  “No! Not you too?” he says. “Ronald tried that one on us too. Monday night.”

  “There aren’t any cougars on the eastern seaboard,” confirms Amber, suddenly becoming Tyler’s supporter.

  “Really,” protests Tess in a low voice, her hands open, her eyes fixed on Ronald’s son.

  “We did see it,” confirms Seth, and Amber giggles to herself.

  “Tyler?” I ask. “Have you heard anything from the rangers?” He looks surprised. For a moment everyone looks to him eagerly for an answer, in silence.

  “Of course not,” he replies after a pause. I don’t understand why he has that odd look in his eyes.

  Amber turns to Tess and strikes up a new conversation, Seth starts fiddling with his cell phone and Tyler and I sit quietly, our eyes locked.

  When he finishes on stage, Vuk joins me at the bar. His hair is drenched in sweat, sticking up in the air. He looks like he has stepped straight out of a hair gel commercial. His gorgeous face is friendly, radiant, a satisfied smile crossing it.

  Friends, fans, family. We all gather together to watch the evening rerun of the game. Tyler and Vuk are sitting a bit too close for comfort and the tension in the air is intense. Jeff takes every possible step to avoid close contact with my best friend. Everything goes smoothly until closing time when the Siberian forest rangers come in from Cape Cod to give Tyler a ride back to the coast with them. Vuk freezes and grinds his teeth. It’s Myco’s family. He even shares the same surname as Fergus––Bradford. Their golden eyes look strangely wary. As soon as they see Vuk they come to a stop in the middle of the bar and stare at him, as if to check him out. Maybe they want to understand if this is the guy that Scott had told them about. What a gossip, that Scott.

  Still seated next to me, Vuk narrows his eyes, but then breaks the tension by calmly taking his leave by a quick nod of his head to Tyler, almost too imperceptible to be a proper goodbye. Then he exits the bar with a last glance back at me.

  Now I have to make a choice. I dash to the exit and spot Vuk next to his pickup. My eyes soak in his features––the perfect arch of his forehead, broken in two by a lock of chestnut hair that his sweat has made even darker, his square jawline, sculpted cheekbones, the softer curve of his full lips, currently sporting a smile. When I reach him, he slips a hand behind my back and pulls me in for a hug, far bolder than the earlier one on my porch.

  “Thanks for dinner,” he whispers, his voice husky, yet creamy smooth.

  “Thanks for your performance.”

  He throws another grim look at the Siberians’ table on the other side of the window. Fergus is staring out at him. Behind him, it seems that Jeff is giving him an even dirtier look. Vuk clenches his teeth so hard I fear they might shatter. But when he turns to me, his face softens into a friendly but melancholic smile.

  “You’d better go now,” I whisper, still enthralled by the warmth of his arms. “Staying would only make things worse.”

  Vuk takes a deep breath to relax before replying.

  “I think they took it well enough,” he laughs sarcastically, but not too convincingly. “But I wouldn’t worry.”

  The corners of his mouth contract as he tries to stifle a smile. His look makes me think I’m missing some joke here.

  “Safe journey home, Vuk.”

  “See you tomorrow, little girl,” he whispers back.

  I watch as he pulls away, then I turn back to the bar. As far as I can tell, for the time being at least, the bar and Jeff’s house are off-limits for Vuk; there was no mistaking the expression on Jeff’s face. Scott’s as well. And the way the Siberians were looking at him … well, they could hardly hide their disdain. Weird. They didn’t even talk, and you could just sense the tension between them from a mile away.

  When I get back inside,
the scene is worse than the cheesiest romantic comedy. Fergus is cupping Dora’s face in his huge hands. Before kissing her lips, his golden eyes follow the contours of her face, his gaze so full of love that it makes me squirm. Locke grins, and Amelia groans. They must have seen this scene played out a hundred times before. I close the door and wrap my arms around my chest, the feeling of emptiness echoing throughout my body. They really are a gorgeous couple, soul mates. Luckily, Tyler’s arrival distracts me, his breathtaking smile revealing a row of perfect white teeth.

  We go behind the counter together to tidy up the workspace.

  The youngest of the Siberians, Locke, comes up to the counter; he checks me out and offers Tyler a hand to clear up, using as few words as possible to communicate. He looks around to make sure no one can hear. His family is sitting too far away to be able to hear anything being said at the counter. As I look around the bar, my eyes meet his sister Dora’s; they are firmly fixed on me. The others are watching Tyler.

  Quick as lightening, I tear my eyes from Dora and they land on Locke. He seems jollier, more talkative tonight compared to last night. Slowly but surely, I seem to gain his trust and he speaks to me with more trust. It’s as if everything he wanted to say last night, but didn’t dare to, comes gushing out tonight. I discover that he’s easygoing, fun to be with, although I don’t feel quite at home with him as I do with Tyler.

  I still take a peek at the other rangers every now and then. I can sense the innate serenity of Fergus, as well as a sense of comfort in all of them. Amelia ignores me totally, while Dora goes to the other extreme and doesn’t tear her eyes from me. But there’s no animosity in her gaze, in fact I think I can see a hint of a smile on her lips.

  When the bar is practically empty, Jeff doesn’t seem at all surprised to see me and Tyler sprawled under the stage––me with my school papers spread all around me, Tyler leaning over a forest map. We are both getting on with our own work, but keeping each other company. This makes me think that he and Scott have some kind of plan up their sleeve.

  When we finally decide that enough is enough, that our brains can’t take anymore, Jeff has long since gone home.

  “Maybe I’d better get home,” I say, as I fold up my apron and tuck it under the counter. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

  “No problem,” says Tyler, “I’ll see you to the door.”

  The surprise on my face makes him crack up laughing, but he seems content. Time and space seem to become hazy when I’m with him, I can’t keep track of them at all.

  “I had fun tonight,” I comment, and from the door I sweep my eyes across the deserted bar; his family is waiting for him in the Jeep. I think I can already hear the hum of the engine coming from the back alley.

  Scott will have to give me a ride home. I not surprised to see the lights still on when he pulls up to the driveway in front of my house. I knew Jeff would be waiting up.

  When I step inside, I hear the usual sports reporter commenting on the game while roaring crowds provide the backdrop. I close the door as softly as possible, then creep up to the parlor door to say goodnight to Jeff, who is lounging on the sofa.

  “I’ll just clear away the things in the kitchen, then I’m off to bed,” I say, faking a yawn.

  “Need a hand?” he asks.

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” I say cheerily, heading for the sink.

  I get to work, trying to put out of my mind the way that Jeff treated Vuk tonight. Without success.

  I drain the pots I had left to soak and begin scrubbing the grease away, never once glancing behind me toward the parlor.

  Jeff shows up, a dishcloth in his hand. I only realized he was there behind me, watching in silence, when I bent down to grab the dishwashing detergent.

  “I don’t like that kid, that Vud,” he grimaces.

  “His name is Vuk, Jeff, and you should be nicer to him.”

  “Well, I let him come into my home …”

  “Extending a real warm welcome!”

  “I try my best,” Jeff says. “There’s something weird about that kid, the way you’re always together. And Scott says that he always seems ready to tear to shreds anyone who comes near you, as if he were your guard dog or something.”

  I laugh. That’s one of the most absurd things I’ve ever heard, but a lot closer to the truth than I’d care to admit.

  “And, from what I hear, he’s a tough cookie,” continues Jeff. “I think you should be careful.” He keeps looking at me, waiting for me to say something.

  “Jeff … what is it?”

  “Did you have fun tonight?”

  Before providing him with an answer, I try to analyze the hidden meaning behind his words.

  “I … guess.” I just want him to spit it out. “Fun night, yeah.”

  “What were you up to this afternoon?” he asks carefully.

  “We were in the library.”

  “Look I don’t want you to go anywhere with this Vuk. I’m not happy about you seeing him.”

  I turn and see him pointing an accusing finger at me. My blood boils with rage, his tone of voice puts me on edge.

  “Do I have to remind you that I’m over eighteen, Jeff? I’m not a little kid!” I slam down the pan I’m cleaning. It slips off the counter, falling noisily into the sink, splashing soapy water all over us and the kitchen. I pick it up to rinse it again. Jeff just keeps staring at the point the sound came from, but it hardly registers, he’s too absorbed about driving home his point.

  “I know that!” he snaps, clearly upset. “But this is my house. And you have to follow my rules! I don’t want either Vuk or Jason setting foot in here!”

  “Ok, but if you want me to stay, you’re going to have to accept them.” I pull the plug out the sink. “I’m going to bed now.”

  He rolls his eyes, but I see that the storm is over for now. All his does is grunt something incomprehensible, but that in no way can be mistaken for an agreement.

  “Stella? Hold on a minute,” he finally says.

  “Come on, Jeff, please.”

  “Don’t worry, the hardest part is over,”

  I look at him, glad to see him more relaxed now, back to his normal stance.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m worried.”

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, suddenly anxious. “Can I do anything to help?”

  “It’s not about me.” Jeff shakes his head. “Scott and I are worried about you. We think your relationship with Vuk and Jason … they could hurt you again.”

  “Oh.” I sigh, gazing steadfastly at the dark kitchen window, reflecting the two of us.

  “To be honest, my main concern is Vuk.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “I know you say he’s your best friend. But things between the two of you seem far more intense that you seem to admit.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “No,” he complains, “it’s just a little strange.”

  I mentally summarize the past four days. Vuk and I have barely even hugged, let alone in front of him. Maybe he’s just trying to teach me a lesson in taking responsibility.

  “Like I said, it’s all a bit strange. The way he looks at you, he’s too protective. As if he were ready to throw himself in front of a moving bus for you. He seems to care about you too much. He never leaves your side, like a guard dog, like a shadow. As soon as you move, he does to. I watched him all night tonight, and I notice these things.”

  “Now you’re going too far, Jeff. You’re imagining things.” We’re both embarrassed, but he seems calmer now. Maybe he believes me and he’s starting to doubt what he thinks he saw.

  But his eyes stare at me again, searchingly.

  “I know what I see, Stella, and I’m your father. Just don’t lose sight of reality, ok? Monica tends to do that, and so do you. And sometimes you get carried away by your emotions.”

  “Are you trying to insinuate something about mom’s ability to act mature?” I ask, a little ir
ritated by his accusation. “You’d better hope I don’t mention that to her.”

  “No, best not to. And let’s not lose our tempers here,” he suggests pleadingly, although he’s the one who seems to lose it all the time.

  “So, anyway… I studied at the library, prepared dinner, worked at the bar, washed the dishes.” I list my day chronologically. “And now I’m going to bed.”

  He strides out the room before I get the chance to say good night. He sinks into the sofa in front of the TV, still cross. As soon as I realize I got the best of the argument, I’m plagued by a sense of guilt. But I just head for the stairs and go to my room.

  I awaken, trembling, the screams muffled by the pillow. The low hanging clouds outside the window filter the weak morning light as I try, once again, to shake off the latest nightmare. I replay the bit I remember in my mind.

  It isn’t the usual dream. First of all, I don’t feel as if I am looking for something; force of habit is not leading me on as it usually does when I find myself in there.

  The setting isn’t the same either. There is no awful labyrinth of corridors or the ancient chimney chute. The forest is not the same one I see in the recurring dreams about Vuk.

  It smells different; the light is not the same. In place of the damp woods, I sense the salty air of the ocean. The sky is invisible, but I get the feeling that the sun is setting splendidly; the leaves on the highest trees gleam with a vivid jade green.

  The half-light is that of a cloudy afternoon. And the little light that does filter through the mantle of trees makes the salt deposits on the ground glisten like diamonds. This proves that the forest is near the coast, the beach. I’m sure of it. I’m sure that if I could only get to the ocean I would see the sun setting, so I head towards the low crash of the waves in the distance.

  I know why this place looks familiar. I’ve already been here, long, long ago. A million years earlier, in a totally different lifetime. It’s the beach behind Scott’s house. Jeff used to bring me here to play, we’d come on his red motorbike.

  Half the time was spent in the forest, half on the beach, a stone’s throw from Scott’s house. There’s nothing else to see, except for Tyler’s honey-colored eyes looking at me cryptically from the porch. But they don’t soothe the feeling of loneliness, nor do they stop me from screaming when I wake up in the morning.