by Brooke Moss
No response. He just shifted in his seat.
The truth was that I didn’t really care where I went to college or if I even went. I only knew that I wanted to get away from Sandpoint, and out from underneath my parents’ thumbs, as soon as possible. Unfortunately, they nixed every school I’d suggested because of the distance it would put between us. Apparently, I needed to have someone in my family nearby to wipe my chin at all times.
“I’m still weighing my options,” Saxon announced.
My father made a hmm sound under his breath. “What will your major be?”
Saxon seemed to ponder this for a moment. “I’m not sure, exactly.”
My father’s eyebrows knit together. “Well, what are your interests?”
Saxon leaned forward in his seat. “History.” I could tell that my dad accepted this answer, as the muscles in his forehead relaxed the tiniest bit. But Saxon wasn’t done. “Mathematics. Literature. Oh, science. I like science too. And music. I love music. And art.”
My father glanced at me with a strange look, as if to say, What the hell is up with your friend?
I ignored him and closed the vanity mirror with a snap. “Saxon likes to swim.”
“Oh yeah? Are you on the swim team?” My father squinted his eyes to see through the sheets of rain.
Saxon cleared his throat. “No, sir. I do most of my swimming in the lake.”
My father’s eyes flashed to the rearview mirror. “The lake? That’s pretty dangerous.”
“I’m a strong swimmer.” Saxon’s voice dropped low.
I turned my upper body to the side so I could look back at him. “Did you hear that someone drowned in Garfield Bay last week?”
Saxon’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. I heard that.”
“Yeah, I guess some guy was hiking near the water and fell in.” I looked at my dad. “Isn’t that what you read in the paper?”
He nodded. “He lost his footing and the ground was wet. The dirt collapsed underneath him, and he rolled into the lake.”
I turned back to Saxon. “Apparently he clawed at the dirt as he fell and pulled a bunch of plants out of the ground. They found the body two days later. Totally creepy.”
Saxon’s blue eyes looked translucent in the dim light from the dashboard. “Yes, it is.”
“Who are your parents?” My father asked out of nowhere. Saxon just looked at him. “If they live on Moon’s Bay, I’ve probably met them. What are their names?”
Saxon’s gaze slowly went back to the window. “We’re new to town. You probably haven’t met them yet.”
I watched as my dad processed this in his annoyingly tempered way. Why wouldn’t Saxon answer the question? And why did my dad want to know his parents’ names anyhow? What, would he run a background check later or something? I was torn between being annoyed by my father’s curiosity and by Saxon’s evasiveness. Or maybe it was just because I always seemed to need something to be annoyed by.
We made another turn and started the curvy descent down to the small clump of houses that encircled Moon’s Bay. The trees were too thick and the sky was too black to see any of the houses, but there were lights burning in the distance that indicated where each of the homes stood. My eyes instantly found our old white farmhouse in the distance, and the memory of Saxon tromping across our land made my stomach twist.
“Which one?” My dad asked as we rolled past the first few driveways. Saxon didn’t answer, so I looked over my shoulder at him just in time to see him rubbing his forehead.
“You all right?” I asked.
Maybe my father made him more nervous than I thought. He did have a sort of quiet-slash-judgmental thing going on.
His eyes didn’t move from the rain-soaked trees outside his window. “I’m fine.”
“Saxon?” My dad pushed on the brakes and his car slowed considerably. “Which house?”
Clearing his throat, Saxon pointed ahead. “It’s, uh, just up here.”
We rolled past our own driveway, past the Rogersons, and past the next three driveways. Finally, the road came to a dead end where a wall of dripping pine trees sat. There was a dirt driveway to the left, but it was blocked by an old iron gate that had been padlocked shut with a thick, rusty chain. I remembered riding my bike down to the dead end with Evey when we were little and straining to peek through the gate to the dilapidated old house at the end of the sloped driveway. But the only thing we’d ever been able to see was a peaked roof in desperate need of new shingles.
“This is your place?” I peered through the falling rain.
Saxon unbuckled his belt and opened his door. “Um…yes.”
“You live here?” My father’s face was filled with doubt, and he put the car in gear before turning in his seat and looking back at our passenger. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir.” Saxon ducked his head politely. “Thank you for the ride, Mr. Prosser.”
My father nodded slowly. “You’re welcome.”
The corner of Saxon’s mouth tugged upward when he looked at me, and my stomach immediately began a slow simmer. Heat spread from my belly through the rest of my body, and I clenched my hands into fists in my lap where he couldn’t see.
“Have a good night, Luna.” His deep voice felt smooth and syrupy.
My voice came out in nearly a whisper, and I could practically hear my father rolling his eyes. “You too.”
We watched as Saxon climbed out of the car, shut the door, and stalked toward the gate. He reached into his jeans pocket, and it looked as though he were fumbling with some keys. When Saxon looked over his shoulder and waved at us, my father put his car in reverse, and we started to back up. Once the car turned around and we began ambling back down the road toward our own driveway, I looked in the side mirror to realize that Saxon had vanished and that the gate had been shut and locked behind him.
“Guess they take security in that place very seriously,” I joked, watching the mirror as we drove.
Our driveway came into view before he opened his mouth to speak. “I don’t want you seeing that kid again.”
My mouth dropped open, and I gaped at the side of his face as we bounced down the driveway. “Why?”
He cut the engine at the end of the wheelchair ramp. The silence between us was heavy. “Luna, nobody’s lived in that house for decades.”
Chapter Five
When I heard a knock at the door, I knew it was Saxon before I even looked through the window. My stomach started bubbling like my grandma’s old coffee percolator when I heard the soft rap-rap-rap against the glass, and my face split into a wide smile as I rolled into the kitchen.
“Looks like somebody’s got company,” Evey sang as she hunched over the table, doing her homework.
Through clenched teeth, I whispered, “Shut up. He’ll hear you.” I waved at Saxon on the other side of the glass-paned door and wove my way around the kitchen island.
Declan strolled into the room behind me, bouncing a soccer ball on his knee. “Mom said not to say shut up anymore. I’m so telling.”
“No, you're not, Dec.” Evey scooped her books off of the tabletop and pushed him toward the living room.
Declan scowled. “Oh, yeah? And why not?”
“Because I’m going to bribe you with cookies and let you watch anything you want on the TV.” Evey gestured for me to open the backdoor.
Mouthing the words thank you, I approached the door just as Declan’s mouth dropped open.
“Oh, I get it,” he giggled. “There’s a boy here. Are you gonna make out with him, Luna?”
I heard the muffled sound of Saxon chuckling on the porch and cringed. Curse this old house and its thin doors. Gesturing for Evey and Declan to get the heck out of the kitchen, I hissed, “I'll seriously give you a million dollars if you get him out of here.”
Evey shook her head. “You're broke.”
I glanced at Saxon standing underneath the eaves while a light rain drizzled behind him. Flipping the lock, I tossed my sister one la
st glance. “I’ll rob a friggin’ bank. Now, go!”
When Saxon opened the door, his presence seemed to fill the entire doorway, and it sent my head spinning. I’d only seen him a few times at school that day, but there was an undeniable connection between us, and the other kids at school had taken notice. When Saxon winked at me as I sat eating my lunch, then met me at my locker before seventh period just to say hi, the girls on the cheerleading squad looked like they were ready to stick their heads inside an oven.
I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I liked Saxon. Beside the fact that he was nice to look at, he was kind, well-mannered, and confident. Sure, my father pretty much hated him, but that just added a mystique.
His mouth curved upward. “Luna.”
I returned the smile. Couldn’t help myself. When I was with Saxon, my happy-ometer was out of control. And oddly enough, when I was around him, I felt almost normal—whatever that meant. But I didn’t want to tell him that. He already looked great and acted mysterious. He didn’t need to get a big head too.
I tried to lower my voice. If my sister thought I didn’t know she was right on the other side of the swinging door, she had another thing coming. “What are you doing here?”
He leaned against the doorjamb. “I didn’t get the chance to talk to you much today.” He was wearing his usual black T-shirt and jeans, but now had a light leather jacket with worn, cracked seams over the top. Thank goodness he finally scrounged up a coat to wear. “I wanted to see you before I had to go home.”
I rolled backward a few inches. “Do you want to come in?”
Saxon extended his hand into the kitchen above my head and moved his fingers around like he was feeling the air. He jerked his head in the direction of the drizzle. “It’s nice out. Why don't we go for a walk?”
I blinked at him a few times. “It's raining.”
“Naw, that’s not rain.” He laughed and stood upright. “Last night was rain. This is…a heavy mist.”
Unable to resist the half smile on Saxon's face, I reached back into the kitchen and snatched my beanie cap off of the nearby countertop. “Fine.” I tugged the dark purple hat over the top of my black hair and pulled on my fingerless gloves. “I’ll go for a walk. In the mist. Has anybody ever told you you’re weird, Sax?”
His ethereal eyes shone when he grinned. “Believe it or not, yes.”
I rolled past him onto the back porch. “Oh, I believe it. Hey, Ev?”
My sister’s head popped around the corner, and her cheeks flushed when Saxon waved at her.
“Is it cool if I go for a walk? I’ll just be down the trail, and I have my cell if you need me for anything.” I said this knowing two things. First, there was no way Evey would tell me not to go on a walk with Saxon. Second, though neither one of us dared say it, we both knew that when we were home alone together in the afternoons, my parents considered it to be her watching me, even though I’m older. Apparently, if she weren’t here, then there’d be no telling what I would do.
“Yep. Have a good time.” She avoided Saxon’s eye contact. “Mom and Dad will be back by six. Try to get back before they get here, otherwise Mom will call the National Guard.”
Embarrassment heated the skin on my neck. I wasn’t in a hurry to share with Saxon that my parents treated me like an infant. “Right.”
Saxon gripped the handles on the back of my chair, and he moved me so that I was facing the ramp. “Shall we go?”
“Let go.” My voice came out way snappier than I’d intended, and when I turned around in my seat, he’d pulled his hands back. His eyebrows were high on his forehead.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I was just trying to help you down the ramp.”
I took a deep breath. “I know. I'm sorry. I'm just weird about being helped.” Shuddering, I pushed my wheels. “I hate it.”
Saxon followed me as I rolled slowly down the ramp. “Why is that?”
“I don't really know. I guess…” I looked up at the overcast sky. “Before my injury I was so independent. I didn’t let my parents do anything for me. In the months right after the accident, I depended on everyone for everything. I couldn’t even get dressed by myself.” I shot Saxon a glance over my shoulder. “Which I can totally do by myself now, by the way. I’m capable of doing almost everything for myself now.”
His mouth stretched upward. “That I don’t doubt.”
When I hit the gravel of the driveway, I pointed toward the path. “Is that way all right?”
“Looks good.” Saxon followed my lead. “You seem very independent to me. I’ll bet those months after your accident were really tough for you.”
“They weren’t a jog in the park. Obviously.” I snorted. “And my parents don’t really accept that I can take care of myself now. They still think they need to watch my every move and make sure I’m safe, healthy, and happy all the time.”
Saxon looked down at me as I hit the root at the mouth of the trail with all of my strength and bounced past it. “And are you?”
“I don’t know.” I was surprised by my honesty. I preferred to appear surly and indignant to every person I encountered, but when I was with Saxon, my defenses crumbled. I could be myself, and no matter what that included—scared, happy, pissy, sad, or somewhere in between—he would still like me. Even Evey got sick of me eventually. But that was what happened when you were forced to watch over your older sister all of the time like some sort of backward nanny. “I guess I am. I don’t go to parties and drive around drunk like everyone at school, and I’m not doing drugs. So I guess I’m safe. My mother thinks I’m lazy and depressed, but—”
He frowned down at me. “Is that true?”
“Am I lazy and depressed?” I paused long enough to tilt my head at him. “No. I’m not. I couldn’t be lazy if I wanted to. I would get bed sores.”
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Be serious.”
“Fine. I’m not lazy.” I rolled to a stop. When Saxon turned to look at me, I unzipped my hoodie and pulled my arm out. Though my skin was horrifyingly pale and translucent—the curse of my Irish/Scottish bloodline—my biceps were nicely defined. I didn’t look like one of those freaky bodybuilder chicks in a fluorescent bikini, but I looked all right in a tank top. “See? I push myself all over school every day, and I hoist myself in and out of bed, the bathtub, and the car by myself. And as for depressed…ah, hell, I don’t know. Maybe I am. Sometimes. But that’s what comes with being forced to sit and watch the whole world instead participating in it. That’s what happens when you go from being popular and having something to do every day of the week to sitting at home watching your phone not ring.”
I pushed my wheels, slowly, one of my arms still exposed to the weather. “So yes, I think I can be depressed some days. But it’s not like I’m clinically depressed. I only get really down once in a while. Homecoming, summertime when my dad takes Evey and Declan hiking, ski season, prom season. Just the times of year when it is apparent how different from everyone I am. But most of the time, I’m just glad to be alive.”
He examined my arm, and I felt my skin warm under his gaze. He took a few more steps. “You’re very beautiful.”
I didn’t look up at him. Couldn’t. I didn’t want to know if Saxon was saying it out of pity. Crap, I’d heard it all before. When Ian dumped me, he’d sat next to me on my hospital bed and said, It isn’t that you’re not pretty, Luna, because you still are. It’s not that.
And when I’d looked up at him, I could see it. Pity fogged his eyes and made him throw empty compliments my way to make up for the fact that he didn’t want to date a girl who was in a wheelchair. I didn’t want Saxon to say things like that if it weren’t something he really thought.
“Shut up,” I half mumbled, half whispered.
Saxon grabbed the handle to my chair and stopped walking. Coming to an abrupt stop, I glared at him over my shoulder.
He glared back. “Why do you do that? Why don’t you accept my compliment?”
“I don't know.” I pulled at my wheels, but his grip was firm. “Come on, let’s go.”
Saxon knelt down next to my chair and placed one of his hands on my bare arm. His voice was so quiet that only the two of us could have heard. “You’re beautiful.”
My mouth was suddenly so dry I would’ve been willing to drink lake water. “Thank you.”
He lifted his hand off of my arm and reached one finger out to gently touch the thin silver bar I had in my nose. “What is this?”
My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “It’s, um, a septum ring.”
Saxon’s head tilted to the side. “I’ve never seen one before. Why do you wear it?”
“You’ve never seen a pierced nose before?” I pressed my lips together. How was it possible that he’d never seen someone with a nose ring before? In a day and age when even my oldest teacher had a tattoo, how had Saxon missed the whole body art trend?
He squinted as he examined me, as if he were concentrating very hard. But his lips were pursed. He was on the verge of smiling again. “No. I never have. It’s interesting. I like it.”
I shook my head. “Sometimes you act like you’re new around here.”
“I am new around here.” His hand rested on my shoulder, with his fingers touching the side of my neck. If he could feel my pulse underneath the skin, he’d probably call an ambulance soon.
I shook my head. “No. New to…you know, society.”
Saxon pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Why would you say that?”
“Because sometimes you act like you’ve never seen certain things. Things most people have already seen at least once.”
“Maybe I haven’t.” He stood up and gestured down the path. “Do you want to go further? There’s a little beach and the view is great. Do you want to see?”
My thrumming heart slowed. “I can't.”
He looked down at me. “Why not?”
I swallowed back my embarrassment and pointed down at the rocks. “Because once we go past my neighbor’s house, the trail gets too narrow for my chair. And then when you get to the beach, it gets too rocky. Even if we could get my chair down there, it would be impossible to get to the cliff.”